"Mark maiden innocence, a prey Regardless of the tears, and unavailing prayers! 66 "O ye! who, sunk in beds of down, Feel not a want but what yourselves create, The wretch already crushed low By cruel fortune's undeserved blow! I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer And hail'd the morning with a cheer, But deep this truth impress'd my mind Thro' all his works abroad, The heart, benevolent and kind, The most resembles GOD. WINTER. A DIRGE. I. THE wintry west extends his blast, Or, the stormy north sends driving forth While tumbling brown, the burn comes down. And bird and beast in covert rest, And pass the heartless day. II. "The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast," The joyless winter day, Let others fear, to me more dear Than all the pride of May! The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul, The leafless trees my fancy please, Their fate resembles mine! III. Thou Pow'r Supreme, whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil, Here, firm, I rest—they must be best, Because they are thy will! * Dr. Young. Then all I want, (O, do thou grant DESPONDENCY. AN ODE. I. OPPRESS'D with grief, oppress'd with care, A burden more than I can bear, A long, a rough, a weary road, Dim, backward as I cast my view, Too justly I may fear! Still caring, despairing, Must be my bitter doom; My woes here shall close ne'er, But with the closing tomb! 11. Happy, ye sons of busy life, Who, equal to the bustling strife, Ev'n when the wished end's denied, Whilst I, a hope-abandon'd wight, Meet ev'ry sad returning night, III. How blest the Solitary's lot, The cavern wild with tangling roots, While praising, and raising His thoughts to Heav'n on high, As wand'ring, meand'ring, He views the solemn sky. IV. Then I, no lonely hermit plac'd And just to stop, and just to move, With self-respecting art: But ah! those pleasures, loves, and joys, Which I too keenly taste, The Solitary can despise, Can want, and yet be blest! V. Oh! enviable, early days, When dancing, thoughtless pleasure's maze, Ye tiny elves that guiltless sport, TO RUIN. 1. ALL hail! inexorable lord! At whose destruction-breathing word The mightiest empires fall! A sullen welcome, all! |