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WITH A SPRIG OF CRIMSON HEATH WHICH GREW
ON THE SUMMIT OF A MOUNTAIN.
“ Those looks demure that deeply touch the soul, " Where, with the light of thoughtful Reason join'd, 66 Shine lively Fancy, and the feeling heart.”
Muse that lov’st the lonely mountain,
Cliff abrupt, and rocky glen,
Free from strife and far from men :
Muse that lov'st to worship Nature
In her haunts sublimely wild,
Speaks her Nature's darling child.
Nurs’d on Inspiration's bosom,
Drest by meek Simplicity,
Truth and Nature loves like thee.
Deck'd with chaste and artless graces,
While her form adorns the stage, Fancy pleas'd recals the traces
Of a former, better age;
When the virgin's sweet suffusion,
Timid look, and modest air, Gentle fears, and soft confusion,
Shrunk before the public stare.
'Tis not that thy tragic sister
Wraps her in her crimson stole, Or that comic powers assist her, ,
While she fascinates the soul.
'Tis not that applausive thunder
Shakes the scene when she appears, That she draws the
of wonder, And unlocks the spring of tears :
'Tis not that capricious fashion
Hails her idol of the day; But that general adulation
O'er her breast obtains no sway,
That the charities and duties
Which domestic life endear, Add new lustre to her beauties,
Even in wisdom's view severe.
Lovely WALLIS, these are grace
That awake the Muse's flame; And to these sequester'd places
Have convey'd thy honour'd name
Pattern bright of filial duty,
Kindest sister, truest friend, On thy innocence and beauty
Still may guardian sylphs attend !
Keep and wear this crimson blossom,
Place it near thy generous heart, 'Tis a charm that from thy bosom
Can repel detraction's dart.
mountain's summit ærial,
Fed by bright celestial dew.
No voluptuous scents exhaling,
Deck'd with no luxurious dye,
Blooming 'midst the wintry sky.
Type of virtue's wreaths victorious,
Flowering on the craggy height, Those who mount with ardour glorious
Pay their labour with delight.
ON READING ONE UPON THE SAME SUBJECT BY
PROFESSOR RICHARDSON OF GLASGOW.
Say, where just Heav'n was thy avenging brand!”
What voice awakes the soul-afflicting theme ?
That oft with anguish fill’d my youthful breast, When by the Mohawk's * wild sequester'd stream
Indignant grief my labouring heart opprest.
* The Author's childhood was passed at a small distance from the Mohawk river, and one part of it on the banks of lake Ontario ; from whence resulted an early and strong attachment to those generous nations who have always been beloved by persons any time resident among