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AS the following Poem contains intrinsic evidence of having been written in an easy familiar manner, with haste too great for accuracy, merely to amuse a few partial Friends, it would be no compliment to the Reader's discernment, to endeavour to convince him of a truth so obvious. It will be more difficult to ascertain the propriety of submitting to the Public eye a careless effusion, so very local, that its interest might seem confined to the Dramatis Personæ who appear on the scene. It so happened, however, that some Friends who were pleased with the Poem, breaking through all injunctions to the contrary, not only took, but gave copies, to the great discredit of the performance itself, in which errors and absurdities were multiplied. This must be the Author's apology for including it in the present Volume.

A

JOURNAL

FROM

GLASGOW TO LAGGAN:

ADDRESSED TO MRS FURZER.

Then let me go, and hinder not my course.

I'll make a pastime of each weary step, « Till the last step have brought me to my home; And then, I'll rest, as after much turmoil « A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

SHAKESPEARE.

Dear NANCY, well

you

know my way,
I always do whate'er I say;
Of moral obligation fond,
I count my promise as my bond.

K.

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That you, who rhyme and rhymsters spurn all,
In verse should bid me write my journal,
At first excited speculation,
Till after solemn cogitation,
And much conjecture spent in vain,
The cause appear’d distinct and plain.
Your friend, and may I boast her mine,
LOUISA decks the Muses' shrine :
Late on their altars I survey'd
A bright but harmless weapon laid ;
The gift, inscrib'd with Nancy's praise,
Innoxious gleam'd thro’ twining bays,
And shew'd how kind and true that heart
Where Nancy claims so great a part
You, fondly partial, wish to cheer
With music wild, Lovisa's ear;
And vainly think my trembling hand
Can still that rustic lyre command,
Which once, when youth and fancy bloom'd,
Through Inchnacardoch’s caves presum'd
To call sweet echo to my aid,
And every wood-nymph of the shade,
And every Naiad of the waves,
Where Ness romantic mountains laves;

*

* Allusive to a few elegant lines sent by the one lady to the other, with the present of a fruit-knife.

To tell what joys my soul possesst,
When you and Nature fir'd my breast :
When in the Penseroso grot *,
The world and all its cares forgot,
We trac'd the tuneful page sublime,
Beyond the limits fix'd to time :-
But cease !—no more,-this retrospection
Will end, though soothing, in dejection.
To common life you now must turn ye,
And view it in my lonely journey :
To
go

alone I will not choose,
And therefore must invoke the Muse :
Nor fear the tuneful invocation
Should interrupt the wise narration;
Though NANCY owns that long possession
Confirms my right to dear digression.

Come Muse, “ As in the elder time,
“ Warm, energic, chaste, sublime,”
Now, when my Joseph green is ont,
And I just hastening to be gone,
Oh stray not by Illyssus' stream,
Nor in the shades of Tempe dream;
Nor, lingering near proud Ida's rocks,
With laurels deck thy graceful locks :

* See note No. 1. + In Scotland a lady's travelling great.coat is sometimes called a Joseph.

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