But, how much curs'd by ev'ry lover, How prompt are striplings to believe her; << Woman! thy vows are trac'd in sand (1). » TO M. S. G. I. WHEN I dream that you love me, you'll surely forgive, Extend not your anger to sleep; For, in visions alone, your affection can live, I rise, and it leaves me to weep. 2. Then, Morpheus! envelop my faculties fast, Shed o'er me your languor benign; Should the dream of to-night but resemble the last, What rapture celestial is mine! (1) The last line is almost a literal translation from a Spanish proverb. IV. 3. They tell us that Slumber, the sister of Death, To fate how I long to resign my frail breath, If this be a foretaste of Heaven. 4. Ah! frown not, sweet Lady, unbend your soft brow, Nor deem me too happy in this ; If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now, 5. Tho' in visions, sweet Lady, perhaps, you may smile, Oh! think not my penance deficient; When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile, To awake will be torture sufficient. SONG. I. WHEN Irov'd, a young Highlander, o'er the dark heath, And climb'd thy steep summit, oh! Morven of Snow (1), To gaze on the torrent, that thunder'd beneath, Or the mist of the tempest that gather'd below (2); (1) Morven, a lofty Mountain in Aberdeenshire : «< Gormal of Snow,» is an expression frequently to be found in Ossian. (2) This will not appear extraordinary to those who have been accustomed to the mountains; it is by no means uncommon on attaining the top of Ben e vis, Ben y bourd, etc., to perceive, between the summit and the valley, clouds pouring down rain, and, occasionally, accompanied by lightning, while the spectator literally looks down on the storm, perfectly secure from its effects. Untutor❜d by science, a stranger to fear, And rude as the rocks, where my infancy grew, No feeling, save one, to my bosom was dear, Need I say, my sweet Mary, 'twas centred in you? 2. Yet, it could not be love, for I knew not the name, As I felt, when a boy, on the crag-cover'd wild : I lov'd my bleak regions, nor panted for new, And few were my wants, for my wishes were blest, And pure were my thoughts, for my soul was with you. 3. I arose with the dawn, with my dog as my guide, At eve, on my No dreams, save of Mary, were spread to my view, And warm to the skies my devotions arose, For the first of my prayers was a blessing on you. 4. I left my bleak home, and my visions are gone, The mountains are vanish'd, my youth is no more; As the last of my race, I must wither alone, (1) « Breasting the lofty surge. (2) The Dee is a beautiful river, which rises near Mar Lodge, and falls into the sea, at New Aberdeen. And delight but in days I have witness'd before; Ah! splendour has rais'd, but embitter'd my lot, More dear were the scenes which my infancy knew; Though my hopes may have fail'd, yet they are not forgot, Tho' cold is my heart, still it lingers with you. 5. When I see some dark hill point its crest to the sky, I think of those eyes that endear'd the rude scene; 6. Yet, the day may arrive, when the mountains, once more, Adieu! then, ye hills, where my childhood was bred, No home in the forest shall shelter my head, ΤΟ I. OH! yes, I will own we were dear to each other, (1) Colbleen is a mountain near the verge of the Highlands, not far from the ruins of Dee Castle. The love which you felt, was the love of a brother, 2. But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion, 3. Full oft have we wander'd through Ida together, And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow; In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather! But winter's rude tempests are gathering now. 4. No more with affection shall memory blending 5. However, dear S- —, for I still must esteem you, The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid, The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you, Repentance will cancel the vow you have made. 6. I will not complain, and tho' chill'd is affection, That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive. |