66 WHERE Bortha hoarse, that loads the meads with Rolls her red tide to Teviot's western strand, [sand, Through slaty hills, whose sides are shagg'd with thorn, Where springs, in scatter'd tufts, the dark-green A hardy race, who never shrunk from war, Here fixed his mountain-home; a wide domain, The waning harvest-moon shone cold and bright; The warder's horn was heard at dead of night; And as the massy portals wide were flung, With stamping hoofs the rocky pavement rung. What fair, half veil'd, leans from her latticed hall, Where red the wavering gleams of torchlight fall? 'Tis Yarrow's fairest flower, who, through the gloom, Looks, wistful, for her lover's dancing plume. Amid the piles of spoil that strew'd the ground, Her ear, all anxious, caught a wailing sound; With trembling haste the youthful matron flew, And from the hurried heaps an infant drew. Scared at the light, his little hands he flung Around her neck, and to her bosom clung; While beauteous Mary sooth'd, in accents mild, His fluttering soul, and clasp'd her foster child. Of milder mood the gentle captive grew, Nor loved the scenes that scared his infant view; In vales remote, from camps and castles far, He shunn'd the fearful, shuddering joy of war; Content the loves of simple swains to sing, His are the strains, whose wandering echoes thrill JAMES MONTGOMERY. 1772. COLUMBUS. LONG lay the ocean-paths from man conceal'd: Through calm and tempest, with unsetting ray; Then man no longer plied with timid oar While free, as clouds the liquid ether sweep, [deep, From clime to clime the wanderer loved to roam, The waves his heritage, the world his home. Then first Columbus, with the mighty hand Of grasping genius, weigh'd the sea and land; The floods o'erbalanced: where the tide of light, Day after day, roll'd down the gulf of night, There seem'd one waste of waters: long in vain His spirit brooded o'er the Atlantic main; When sudden, as creation burst from naught, Sprang a new world, through his stupendous thought, Light, order, beauty! While his mind explored The unveiling mystery, his heart adored; Where'er sublime imagination trod, He heard the voice, he saw the face of God. Far from the western cliffs he cast his eye "Ah! on this sea of glory might I sail, Thoughtful he wander'd on the beach alone; Mild o'er the deep the vesper planet shone, The eye of evening, brightening through the west Till the sweet moment when it shut to rest: "Whither, oh golden Venus! art thou fled? Not in the ocean-chambers lies thy bed; Round the dim world thy glittering chariot drawn, Pursues the twilight or precedes the dawn; Thy beauty noon and midnight never see, The morn and eve divide the year with thee." Soft fell the shades, till Cynthia's slender bow Crested the farthest wave, then sunk below: "Tell me, resplendent guardian of the night, Now earth and ocean vanish'd, all serene Through the slow, silent hours, he watch'd the host [cried, Danced on the mountains: "Lights of heaven!" he HOME. THERE is a land, of every land the pride, Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ; Where brighter suns dispense serener light, And milder moons emparadise the night; A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth, Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth; The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, Views not a realm so beautiful and fair, Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air; In every clime the magnet of his soul, Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole; For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace, The heritage of Nature's noblest race, There is a spot of earth supremely bless'd, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, THE GRAVE. THERE is a calm for those who weep, Low in the ground. The storm that wrecks the winter sky That shuts the rose. I long to lay this painful head For Misery stole me at my birth, Take home thy child. On thy dear lap these limbs reclined, |