"And can I seek a sheltering roof, "Or social comfort taste,

While he a lonely alien shrinks,

"Hid in the dreary waste?"

"Blow higher winds, blaze fiercer flames,

"Rise o'er thy limits Spey;

"No stronger pang my heart can feel "At Nature's last decay."

"Successive summer suns beheld

66

My lady's withering prime;

But on her lord no sun e'er shone

"In gloomy caves he past the day,

"And by the taper's light "Consum'd the lonely studious hours, "And hop'd the coming night :

"Then, when the world in slumber lay, "Through midnight darkness stole,

"And in my lady's faithful breast

"Repos'd his sorrowing soul;

"Or, fondly gazing while he slept,

66

Hung o'er his infant son;

"And lingering, blest th' unconscious babe "Till glimmering dawn begun :

"Or, when the live-long winter night
"Had lull'd the spies of pow'r,
"'Midst faithful friends a gleam of joy
"Shone on the social hour.

"With eager search the watchful bands "His secret haunts explor'd,

"And many a faithful vassal knew

"The caves that hid their lord *.

"At last, with sad reluctant sighs,
"He left the British strand:
"And sore my lady wept to leave
"Her darling son on land.

"Upon the sea-beat coast of France
"We dwelt in mournful guise;
"And saw afar, like hovering clouds,
"Our native land arise.

See note No. 4.

"Not long upon that alien shore

66

My banish'd master pin'd; "With silent grief we saw his corpse

"To common earth consign'd.

"No pibroch led the loud lament, "No funeral train appear'd;

"No bards, with songs of mighty deeds, "The hopeless mourners cheer'd *.

"When midnight wore her sable robe, "We dug his humble grave; "Where fair Narcissus droops its head, "And darkest poppies wave.

"We strew'd the tomb with rosemary, "We water'd it with tears;

"And bade the Scottish thistle round "Erect his warlike spears.

"And soon we left the fatal spot,

"And sought our native shore;

"And soon my lady blest her son, "And clasp'd him o'er and o'er."

*See note No. 5.

"On thee, my son, (she fondly cried)

66

May happier planets shine;

"And may'st thou never live to brook

"A fate so hard as mine:

"And may'st thou heir thy father's worth, "But not his hapless doom;

"To honour and thy country true,

"And when my weary eyes shall close,
"By death's long slumber blest,
"Beside my dear-lov'd, long-lost home,
"Forever let me rest *.

"She spoke, and died-in yonder grave "Her dear remains are laid:

"Let never impious murmur rise

"To grieve her hovering shade!"

* The lady was buried very near the dwelling of her happier years.

NOTES

ON A

BALLAD,

FOUNDED ON FACT.

No. 1.

The amiable and unfortunate lady, the subject of this poem, was the daughter of a nobleman who suffered death in consequence of having secretly abetted the rebellion of 1745. Her consequent afflictions are here recited with no exaggeration, no alteration of fact, and very little poetical decoration; the narrative is given just as the Author received it, at such a place, at such a time, in such a manner, and from such a person, as is here faithfully delineated.

No. 2.

Retir'd at close of day.-P. 146.

Workmen being now employed in demolishing the ruin, in order to erect a new fabric in the same place, suggested the idea of endeavouring to "Snatch a portion of those acts from fate."