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If Colin 's weel, and weel content,

With the ghosts of the Waas will I wail, I hae nae mair to crave

In Warblaws woods join the sad throng, And gin I live to keep him sae,

To Hallow E’en's blast tell iny tale,
I'm blest aboon the lave.

As the spectres, ungrav'd, glide along.
And shall I see his face again,
And shall I bear him speak?

Still the Ewes rolls her paly blue stream,

Old Esk still his crystal tide pours,
I'm downright dizzy wi the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet.

Still golden the Wauchope waves gleam,
For there 's nae, &c.

And still green, oh Broomholm, are thy bowers!
No: blasted they seem to my view,

The rivers in red floods combine!

The turtles their widow'd notes coo,

And mix their sad ditties with mine!

Discolour'd in sorrow's dim shade,

AU nature seems with me to mourn, --
By the banks of the crystal-stream'd Esk,

Straight the village-bells merrily play'd,
Where the Wauchope her yellow wave joins, And announc'd her dear Jamie's return.
Where the lambkins on sunny braes bask,
And wild woodbine the shepherd's bower twines. The woodlands all May-blown appear,

The silver streams murmur new charms,
Maria, disconsolate maid,

As, smiling, her Jamie drew near, Oft sigh'd the still noon-tide away,

And all eager sprung into her arms.
Or by moonlight all desolate stray'd,

While woeful she tun'd her love-lay:
Ah! no more from the banks of the Ewes

My shepherd comes cheerly along,
Broomholm ? and the Deansbanks refuse

Tell me gentle Echo, tell,
To echo the plaints of his song:

Where and how my lover fell?

On the cold grass did he lie, No more from the echoes of Ewes,

Crown'd with laurels did he die? His dog fondly barking I hear;

Echo twice gave swift reply,

(did die.” No more tbe tir'd lark he pursues,

“ Crown's with laurels, crown'd with laurels, he And tells me his master draws near.

His snow-white breast was stain'd with gore,

A cruel sword his bosom tore. Ah! woe to the wars and the pride,

Say, with his parting vital flame, Thy heroes, O Esk, could display,

Did be sigh Ophelia's name? When with laurels they planted thy side,

Was he constant, still the same? From France and from Spain borne away.

Echo sigh'd “ Ophelia's name.”

When in honour's bed he lay, Oh! why did their honours decoy

And breath'd his gallant soul away, My poor shepherd lad from the shore ?,

Ye gentler spirits of the air, Ambition bewitch'd the vain boy,

Why was not Ophelia there? And oceans between us now roar.

Echo answer'd her despair,

“ Why was not Ophelia there?" Ah ! methinks his pale corse floating by,

While the full Moon's paly ray I behold on the rude billows toss'd;

Sleeping on the hill-side lay, Unbury'd his scatter'd bones lie,

Thus to Echo through the glade Lie bleaching on some desert coast !

The lovely maniac talk'd and stray'd :

Straight on fancy's wild wing borne,
By this stream and the May-blossom'd thorn,

By the glimpse of op'ning morn
That first heard his love-tale and his yows, She saw-or thought she saw, her love
My pale ghost shall wander forlorn,

Lie bleeding.......
And the willow shall weep o'er my brows.

· The scene is laid on the banks where the two Come, gentle peace, on ev'ry breathing gale, rivers of the Wauchope and Ewes join the Esk; O come, and guard the slumbers of the vale; on the banks of the former was anciently a castle Awake, gay mirth and glee, with playful wile, belonging to the knights templars, on the ruins of Wake with the morn, and o'er the landscape smile! which was built the house at which Mr. Mickle's father resided, and where the poet was born. It was composed at the request of Mr. Ballantyne, “ UPBRAID me not, nor thankless fly and was to have been set to music by Mr. com The grace I would bestow;" missioner Balmaine, of the Scotch excise, bad not (Sir Cadwal sat in window high, death prevented him. Both these gentlemen were King Edward stood below.) born in this district.

The seat of John Maxwell, esq. author of the 3 The skirts of this very picturesque mountain celebrated Essay on Tune; Deansbanks, so called form a bank for the Esk and the Waucope, and from the dean of the knights templars.

are covered with a beautiful and romantic wood.

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" But friendly to thyself receive

Yes, friendship cannot quit her darling field, The bounties I intend ;

Still bids each hope display its fairest bloom, A knight among my knights to live,

Then sick’n ng sees each promis'd joy withheld, And be my table friend."

And sink with Cassio to the dreary tomb.
“ Yestreen, at midnight's solemn hour,

When deep the darkness lay,
I rose my orisons to pour
Before the op'ning day:

When borrid yells my ears astound,
And screams of dismal cry

Echo'd from ev'ry hill far round,

Howl on the winds and die.
And wake again :-And far and wide,

With yellow glimm'ring light,
The scatter'd flames on ev'ry side

Though no subjects are more proper for poetry
Strike horrour on the sight.

than those which are founded upon historical Ah! what a scene the Sun survey'd,

retrospect, the author of such a poem lies under When o'er yon lake he rose !

very particular disadvantages: every one can upOur villages in ashes laid,

derstand and relish a work merely fictitious, deAnd prone in dust our brows;

scriptive, or sentimental: but a previous acOur manly brows, form’d to command,

quaintance, and even intimacy, with the history Low bend beneath thy rage:

and characters upon which the other poem is Insult me not-from thy dire hand

founded, is absolutely necessary to do just ce to its No off”ring can assuage !"

author. Without such previous knowledge, the ideas “ Unbar, proud Cadwal," Edward cried,

which he would convey pass unobserved, as in an Unbar thy gates of steel

unknown tongue; and the happiest allusion, if he

is fortunate enough to attain any thing worthy Black rose the smoke with dust inflate,

of that name, is unfelt and unseen. Under these And red sparks darted through ;

disadvantages, the following epistle is pri-sented to With brain benumb'd, and faltering gait,

the public, whose indulgence and candour the auKing Edward slow withdrew.

thor has already amply exper.enced. The gilded roofs and towers of stone

In the twelfth century, Lisbon, and great part of Now instant all around,

Poringal and Spain, were in possession of the With sudden crash and dreadful groan

Moors. Alphonso, the first king of Portugal, har. Rush thund'ring to the ground.

ing gained several victories over that people, was Sir Cadwal's harp his hand obey'd,

laying siege to Lisbon, when Robert, duke of He felt a prophet's fire;

Gloucester, on his way to the Holy Land, appeared And mid the flames, all undismay'd,

upon the coast of that kingdom. As the cause He struck the sacred lyre.

was the same, Robert was easily persuaded to make his first crusade in Portugal. He demanded that the storming of the castle of Lisbon, situated on a considerable hill, and whose ruins sbow it to have been of great strength, should be allotted to him,

while Alphonso was to assail the walls and the ON HIS BROTHER'S DEATH.

city. Both leaders were successful; and Alphon

so, among the rewards which he bestowed upon HENCE, ye vain nymphs, that in th' Aonian shade the English, granted to those who were wounded,

Boast to inspire the fancy's raptur'd dream, or unable to proceed to Palestine, the castle of
Far other powers my wounded soul invade,

Almada, and the adjoining lands.
And lead me by the banks of other stream. The river Tagus, below and opposite to Lisbon,
Ye, that beheld when Salem's bard divine

is edged by steep grotesque rocks, particularly on Ou Chebar's willows hung his silent lyre, the south side. Those on the south are generally While Judah's yoke, and Zion's ruin'd shrine, higher and much more magnificent and pituresque

Did ev'ry thought with bleeding woe inspire, than the cliffs of Dover. Upon one of the higbest
From Siloe's banks or Carmel's lonely dells, of these, and directly opposite to Lisbon, remain

O come, ye angels of the melting heart; the stately ruins of the castle of Almada.
O come, with ev'ry gen'rous pang that dwells In December, 1779, as the author was wander-

In friendship's bitterest tender bleeding smart! ing among these ruins, he was struck with the idea,
Still to my eyes the dear lov'd form appears and formed the plan of the following poem; an

But ah! how chang'd; the prey of fell disease! idea which, it may be allowed, was natural to the Cold gleains the eye, the cheek pale languor wears, translator of the Lusiad; and the plan may, in And weakness trembles in the wasted knees.

some degree, be called a supplement to that work. Ah! what dear plans with future action fraught, The following poem, except the corrections and

With beauteous prospect rose in friendship's eye: a few lines, was written in Portugal. The descripAnd must, oh Heaven, can nature bear the thought ? tive parts are strictly local. The finest prospect

Must these dear views like morning shadows fly? of Lisbon and the Tagus (which is there about four Yes, nature weeps, and virtue joins her flame, miles broad) is from Almada, which also commands

And; mourning o'er the woes herself inspird, the adjacent country from the rock of Cintra to Repeats the friend's, the brother's, sacred name, the castle and city of Palmela, an extent of about

Aud fondly views each scene herself desir'd. fifty miles. This magnificent view is completed be

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the extensive opening at the mouth of the Tagus, While Lisboa, aw'd with horrour, saw him spread
about ten miles below, which discovers the Atlan- | The daring sails that first to India led ;
tio ocean.

And oft Almada's castled steep inspires
The pensive Muse's visionary fires;

Almada Hill to English mem'ry dear,
While you, my friend, from low'ring wintry plains, While shades of English heroes wander here.
Now pale with snows, now black with drizzling rains, To ancient English valour sacred still
From leafless woodlands, and dishonour'd bowers Remains, and ever shall, Almada Hill;
Mantled by gloomy mists, or lash'd by showers The hill and lawnş to English valour given,
Of hollow moan, while not a struggling beam What time the Arab Moors from Spain were driven,
Steals froin the Sun to play on Isis' stream;

Before the banners of the cross subdu'd, While from these scenes by England's winter spread, When Lisboa's towers were bathed in Moorish blood Swift to the cheerful bearth your steps are led, By Glo'ster's lance. - Romantic days that yield Pleas'd from the threat'ning tempest to retire, Of gallant deeds a wide luxuriant field, And join the circle round the social fire;

Dear to the Muse that loves the fairy plains, In other climes through sun-bask d scenes I stray, Where ancient honour wild and ardent reigns. As the fair landscape leads my thoughtful way, Where high o'er Tago's flood Almada lowers, As upland path, oft winding, bids me rove

Amid the solemn pomp of mouldering towers Where orange bowers invite, or olive grove, Supinely seated, wide and far around No sullen phantoms brooding o'er my breast, My eye delighted wanders. Here the bound The genial influence of the clime I taste;

Of fair Europa o'er the ocean rears Yet still regardful of my native sbore,

Its western edge; where dimly disappears In ev'ry scene my roaming eyes explore,

The Atlantic wave, the slow descending day Whate'er its aspect, still, by mem'ry brought, Mild beaming pours serene the gentle ray My fading country rushes on my thought.

Of Lusitania's winter, silvering v'er Wbile now perhaps the classic page you turn, The tower-like summils of the mountain shore; And warm'd with honest indignation burn,

Dappling the lofty cliffs, that coldly throw Till hopeless, sicklied by the climate's gloom, Their sable horrours o'er the vales below. Your gen'rous fears call forth Britannia's doom, Far round the stately-shoulder'd river bends What hostile spears her sacred lawns invade, Its giant arms, and sea-like wide extends By friends deserted, by her chiefs betray'd, Its midland bays, with fertile islands crown'd, Low fall'n and vanquish'd !-, with mind serene And lawns for English valour still renown'd; As Lisboa's sky, yet pensive as the scene

Given to Cornwallia's gallant sons of yore, Around, and peosive seems the scene to me, Cornwallia's name the smiling pastures bore; From other ills my country's fate foresee.

And still their lorıl his English lineage boasts Not froin the hands that wield Iberia's spear, From Rolland, famous in the croisade hosts. Not from the hands that Gaul's proud thunders bear, Where sea-ward narrower rolls the shining tide Nor those that turn on Albion's breast the sword, Through hills by hilis embosom'd on each side, Beat down of late by Albion, when it gord

Monastic walls in ev'ry gleu arise Their own, who impious doom their parent's fall In coldest wbite fair glist'ning to the skies Beneath the wor d's great foe, th’insidious Gaul; Amid the brown-brow'd rocks; and, far as sight, Yes, not from these the immedicable wound Proud domes and villages array'd in white ? Of Albion-other is the bane profound

Climb o'er the steeps, and through the dusky green Destin'd alone to touch her mortal part;

Of olive groves, and orange bowers between, Herself is sick and poison'd at the heart.

Speckled with glowing red, unnumber'd gleamO'er Tago's banks where'er I roll inine eyes, And Lisboa, tow'ring o'er the lordly stream, The gallant deeds of ancient days arise ;

Her marble palaces and temples spreads The scenes the Lusian Muses fond display'd Wildly magnifico'er the loaded heads Before me oft, as oft at eve I stray'd;

Of bending bills, along whose high-pil'd base By Isis' hallow'd stream. Oft now the strand The port capacious, in a moon'd embrace, Where Gama march'd his death-devoted' band, Throws her mast-forest, waving on the gale

The vanes of ev'ry shore that hoists the sail.

Here, while the Sun froin Europe's breast retires, " The expedition of Vasco de Gama, the disco. Let fancy, roaming as the scene inspires, verer of the East Indies, was extremely unpopular, Pursue the present and the past restore, as it was esteemed impracticable. His embarka- And Nature's purpose in her steps explore. tion is strongly marked by Osorius the historian. Nor you, my friend, admiring Rome, disdain Gama, before he went on board, spent the night Th’ Iberiau fields and Lusitanian Spain. along with the crews of his squadron, in the chapel While Italy, obscur'd in tawdry blaze, of our Lady at Belem, on the spot where the noble A motley modern character displays, Gothic church now stands, adjoining the convent And languid trims her long exhaused store, of St. Jerome.

Iberia's fields, with rich and genuine ore In the chapel they bound themselves to obedience to Gama, and devoted themselves to death. ed up invocations to Heaven. Every one bebeld « On the next day, when the adventurers marched the adventurers as brave innocent men going to a to their ships, the shore of Belem presented one dreadful execution, as rushing upon certain death." of the most solemn and affecting scenes perhaps Introrluction to the Lusiad. recorded in history. The beach was covered with 2 The houses in Portugal are generally whitened the inhabitants of Lisbon. A numerous procession on the outside, wbite being esteemed as repulsive of priests, in their robes, sung anthems, and offer of the rays of the Sun.

Of ancient manners woo the traveller's eye; As forest boars entangled in a chain,
And scenes untrac'd in ev'ry landscape lie. Dragg'd on, as stings each leader's rage or pain;
Here ev'ry various dale with lessons fraught And each the furious leader in h s turn,
Calls to the wanderer's visionary thought

Till low they lie, a ghastly wreck forlorn.
What mighty deeds the lofty hills of Spain

And say, ye tramplers on your country's inourds, Of old have witness’d-From the ev'ning main Say, who shall fix the swelling torrent's bounds ? Her mountain tops the Tyrian pilots saw

Or who shall sail the pilot of the flood ? In lightnings wrapp'd, and thrill'd with sacred awe, Alas, full oft, some worthless trunk of wood Through Greece the tales of gorgons, hydras spread, Is whirl'd into the pert, blind fortune's boast, And Geryon dreadful with the triple head; While noblest vessels, founder'd, strew the coast ! The stream of Lethe 3, and the dread abodes

If wars of fairer fame and old applause, Of forms gigantic, and infernal gods.

That bear the title of our country's cause But soon, by fearless lust of gold impellid,

To humanise barbarians, and to raise They min'd the mountain, and explor'd the field; Our country's prowess, their asserted praise; Till Rome and Carthage, fierce for empire, strove, If these delight, Hispania's dales display As for their prey two famish'd birds of Jove. The various arts and toils of Roman sway. The rapid Durius then and Boetis' flood

Here jealous Cato laid the cities waste, Were dy'd with Roman and with Punic blood, And Julius here in fairer pride rep'ac'd, While oft the length’ning plains and mountain sides Till ages saw the labours of the plough Seem'd moving on, slow rolling tides on tides, By ev'ry river, and the barren bough When from Pyrene's summits Afric pour'd

Of laurel shaded by the olive's bloom, Her armjes, and o'er Rome destruction lower'd. And grateful Spain the strength of lordly Rome;

Here while the youth revolves some hero's fame, Her's mighty bards 7, and her's the sacred earth If patriot zeal his British breast inflame,

That gave the world a friend in Trajan's birth. Here let him trace the fields to freedom dear, When Rome's wide empire, a luxurious prey, Where low in dust lay Rome's invading spear ; Debas'd in false refinement nerveless lay, Where Viriatus + proudly trampled o'er

The northern hordes on Europe's various climes Fasces and Roman eagles steep'd in gore;

Planted their roling virtues and their crimes. Or where he fell, with honest laurels crown'd, Cloister'd by Tyber's stream the slothful stay'd, The awful victim of a treacherous wound;

To Seine and Loire the gay and friv'lons stray'd, A wound still bath'd in honour's gen'rous tear, A sordid group the Belgian marshes pleas’d, While freedom's wounds the brave and good revere; And Saxony's wild forests freedom seiz'd, Still pouring fresh th' inexpiable staju

There beld her jur es, pois'd the legal scales :O'er Rome's patrician honour, false and vain ! And Spain's romantic bills and lonely dales

Or should the pride of bold revolt inspire, The pensive lover sought; and Spain became And touch lis bosom with unhallow'd fire;

The land of gallantry and am'rous flame. If merit spurn'd demand stern sacrifice,

Hail favourd cime? whose lone retreats inspire O'er Ev'ra's s fields let dread Sertorius rise, The softest dreams of languishing desire, Dy'd in his country's blood, in all the pride Affections treinbling with a glow all holy, Of wrongs reveng'd, illustrious let bim ride Wildly sublime, and sweetly melancholy; Eoshrin'd, o'er Spain, in victory's dazzling rays, Till rapt devotion to the fair, refine Till Rorne looks pale beneath the mounting blaze. And bend each passion low at honour's shrine. But let the British wand'rer through the dales So felt the iron Goth wben here he brougbt Of Ev'ra stray, while midnight tempest wails: His worship of the fair with valour fraught. There, as the hoary villagers relate,

Soon as Iberia's mountains fix'd his home Sertorius, Sylla, Marius, weep their fate,

He rose a character unknown to Rome; 'Their spectres gliding on the lightning blue, His manners wildly colour'd as the flowers Oft doom'd their ancient stations to renew;

And flaunting plumage of Brazilian bowers: Sertorius bleeding on Perpenna's knife,

New to the world as these, yet polish'd more And Marius sinking in ambition's strife:

Than e'er the pupil of the attic lore
Might proudly boast. On man's bold arm robust

The tender fair reclines with fondest trust: 3 The river of Lima, in the north of Portugal, | With Nature's finest touch exulting glows said to be the Lethe of the ancients, is thus men The manly breast which that fond aid bestows: tioned by Cellarius in his Geographia Antiqua. That first of gen'rous joys on man bestow'd, “ Fabulosus Oblivionus Auvius Limia, ultra Lusi In Gothic Spain in all its fervour glow'd. taniam in septentrione.” It runs through a most Then high burn'd honour; and the dread alarms romantic and beautiful district; from which cir- | Of danger then assum'd the dearest charms. cumaga.ce it probably received the name of the | What for the fair was dar'd or suffer'd, bore river of Oblivion, the first strangers who visited it A saint-like merit, and was envy'd more; forgetting their native country, and being willing till led by love-sick fancy's dazzled flight, to continue on its banks. The same reason of for- From court tocourt forth roam'd adventure's knight; getfulness is ascribed to the Lotos by Homer, And tilts and tournaments, in mimic rars, Odys. ix. There is another Lethe of the ancients Supply the triumphs and the honour'd scars in Africa.

Of arduous battles for their country fought, 4 This great man is called by Florus, the Romu- Till the kean relish of the marv'llous wrought Jus of Spain. What is here said of him is agreeable to history.

o According to history, this different policy is 5 Ebora, now Evora, was the principal residence strikingly characteristic of those celebrated names. of Sertorius.

Lucan, Martial, Seneca.

All wild and fever'd ; and each peaceful shade, Then let his mind to fair tonia turn,-
With batter'd armour deck'd, its knight display'd, Alas! how waste Ionia's landscapes mourn;
In soothing transport list'ning to the strain

And thine, O beauteous Greece, amid the towers Of dwarfs and giants, and of monsters slain; Where dreadful still the l'urk, sh banver lowers; Of spells all horreur, and enchanters dire,

Beneath whose gluom, unconscious of the stain And the sweet banquet of the am'rous fire, That dims his soul, the peasant hugs his chain. When knights and ladies chaste, reliev'd from thrall, And whence these woes debasing human kind? Hold love's high holiday in bower and hall. Eunuchs in heart, in polish'd sloth reclin'd,

’T was thus, all pleasing to the languid thought, Thy soas, degenerate Greece, ignobly bled, With magic power the tales of magic wrought; And fair Byzantium bow'd th' imperiai head; Till by the Muses arm'd, in all the iré

While Tago's irou race, in dange- steeld,
Of wit, resistless as electric tire,

All ardour, dar'd the horroirs of the field.
Forth rode La Mancha's knight; and sudden fled The towers of Venice tremblid o'er her flood,
Goblips and beauteous nymphs, and pagans dread, And Paris' gates aghast and open stood;
As the delirious dream of sickness flies,

Low lay her peers on fontarabia's, plains;
When health returning smiles from vernal skies. And Lisboa groan'd beneath stern Man met’s chains:

But turn we now from chivalry deceas'd, vain was the hope the north might rest unspoil'd; To chivalry when honour's wreath she seiz'd When stern Iberia's spirit fierce recoil d. From wisdom's hand. From Taurus' rugged steep, As from the to is the wounded lion bounds, And Caucasus, far round with headlong sweep,

And tears the hunters and the sated hounds; As wolves wild bowling from their famish'd den, So smarting with his wounds th' Iberian tore, Rush'd the devouring bands of Saracen:

And to his sun-scorch'd regions drove the Moor: Their savage genius, giant-like and blind,

T'he vengeful Moors, as mastiffs on their prey, Trampling with sullen joy on human kind;

Return'd; as heavy clouds the r deep array Assyria lay its own uncover'd grave,

Blacken'd o'er Tago's banks. As Sagrez iu braves And Gallja trembled to the Atlantic wave:

And stems the furious ragt of Afric's waves, In awful waste the fairest cities inoan'd,

So brav'd, so stood the Lu-itanian bauds, And human liberty expiring groan'd

The southern bulwark of Europa's lands. When chivalry arose:-her ardent eye

Such were the foes by chivalry repellid, Sublime, that fondly mingl’d with the sky,

And such the honours that adorn'd her shield. Where patience watchd, and stedfast purpose And ask what Christian Europe owes the high frown'd,

And ardent soul of gallant cbırairy,
Mix'd with devotion's fire, she darted round, Ask, and let Turk sh Europe's groans reply.!
Stern and indignant; on her glitt'ring shield

As through the pictur'd abbey window gleams The cross she bore, and proudly to the field The evening Sun with bold though fading beams, High plum'd she rush’d, by honour's dazzling fir’d, So through the reverend shade of ancient days Conscious of Heaven's own cause, and all inspir'd

Gleam these bold deeds with dim yet golden rays. By holy vows, as on the frowning tower

But let not glowing fancy as it warms The lightning vollies, on the crested power

('er these, h gh honour s youthful pride in arms, Of Saracen she wing'd her javelin's way,

forget the stern ambition and the worth And the wide-wasting giant prostrate lay.

Ot minds mature, by patriot kings call'd forth; Let supercilious wisdom's smiling pride

That worth which rous'd the nation to explore The passion wild of these bold days deride ; Uld Ocean's wildest waves and furthest shore. But let the humbler sage with reverence own

By human eye untempted, unexplor'd, That something sacred glows, of name unknown, An awful solitude, old Ocean roard: Glows in the deeds that Heav'n delights to crown;

As to the fearful dove's impatient eye Something that boasts an impuise uncontrollid Appears the height untry'd of upper sky; By school-taught prudence, and its maxims cold. So seem'd the ast dim wave, in boundless space Fir'd at the thought, methinks on sacred ground Involv'd and lost, when Tago's gallant race, I tread, where'er I cast mine eyes around,

As eagles fixing on the Sun their eyes, Palmela's hill and Cintra's summits tell

Through gulfs unknown explor'd the morning skies, How the grim Saracen's dread legions fell;

And taught the wond'ring world the grand design Turbans and scimitars in carnage rollid,

Of parent Heav'n, that shore to shore should join And their moon'd ensigns torn from every hold: In bands of mutual aid, from sky to sky, Yes, let the youth whose gen'rous search explores And ocean's wildest waves the chain supply. The various lessons of Iber a's shores,

And here, my friend, bow many a trophy woos Let him as wand'ring at the Muse's hour

The Briton's earnest eye, and British Muse! Of eve or morn, where low the Moorish tower, Fallen from its rocky height and tyrant sway, Lies scatter'd o'er the dale iu fragments grey, 9 The irruption of the Mohammedans into EuLet him with joy behold the hills around,

rope gave rise to that species of poetry called ro-
With olive forests and with vineyards crown'd, mance. The Orlando Furioso is founded upon the
All grateful pouring on the hands that rear invasion of France,
Their fruit, the fruitage of the bounteous year.

When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell
By Poutarabia-

Milton. 8 Palmela's hill and Cintra's summits are both 10 The promontory of Sagrez, where Henry, seen from A mada, and were principal forts of the duke of Visco, resided and established his naral Moors. They were stormed by Alphonso I. about school, is on the southern part of Portugal, oppothe time of the conquest of Lisbon.

site to Africa.

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