WHEN Heaven, benignant, rears around
An arch of azure o'er the scene;

And Nature, grateful, robes the ground
In many a mode of mantling green;

COME, Fancy! guide me, glad, to climb
The lofty LOMOND's1 flowery sides,
Where, 'mid the wind-wing'd clouds sublime,
Thy fairy dome its summit hides;

AND, there, let Recollection trace
The joys of times now fled afar.
Sweet, sportive Youth! thy jocund face
No care-plough'd furrows ever mar.

YE loved retreats of past delight!
For ever to remembrance dear,

How thrills my heart, when, on the sight,

These haunts of happy days appear!

WHERE health, and bliss beguiled the hours, And rural charms conjoin'd to please, While thro' the boughs of woodbine bowers, In balmy breathings, sigh'd the lily breeze.

O YE! Whom Scotia's glories fire
To emulate her heroes' name,

With me, from Lomond's brow, admire
The fields of their immortal fame.

YE men of peace! that, lonely, rove
Where heathy mounts to mountains swell,
And seek some grot, or greenwood grove,
Where truth, and faith, and freedom dwell;

SEE, from the Queen of midland hills,
Gay grace with silvan sweets combined,
Whose charming intermixture fills,

With mild surprise, the pleasured mind.

FAIR on the roundly roaming eyes,
The beauties of a blithsome land,
Luxuriantly romantic, rise,

Along the circumambient strand :

AND far, in forms of blue, extend
Th' atlantean pillars of the clouds,
Whose spiry summits, high, ascend,
Majestic, 'mid their misty shrouds:

WHILE greenly grows, grotesque, around
A vast, and various landscape wide,
The sky-associate hills imbound

The azure view on every side.

THERE, splendid mansions rear their heads,
And hamlet scenes that weal inclose,
And fanes, girt with the narrow beds,

Where mouldering mortals, lone, repose:

AND, there, are wrecks of hoary Time,
And many a fawn-frequented grove,

And many a stream, and steep sublime,
Where dryads, naiads, oreads rove.

THERE, Summer wields her roseate wand,
Imperial, o'er each lovely plain,

And Beauty leads, with silken hand,
Around the vales her fascinating train.

I. AH! sweet it is, when birds of song
Their carols warble on the sprays,

And gay aurora's charming throng,
On dew-wet wing, their matins raise,

WHEN blue bells burst, and blows the heath, And health, and peace, and summer reign,

Yon hill to haunt, and, far beneath,

Survey the lake-laved, fair champaign.

SEE isle-strewn LEVEN 2 'mid the vale
Expand its welkin-pictured wave,

And many a down, and many a dale,
Its tributary streamlets lave.

By breezy Lomond, broad and deep,
To meet the orient blush of day,
Its waveless waters3, winding, creep,
Relucent, o'er a pebbly way.

AND, through rich fields with fragrant sides, Its stream, embower'd in greenwood, flows, Then to keel-cleft BODOTRIA glides,

4

Where SELKIRK's 5 humble home arose.

No longer, LEVEN! redly runs

Thy fluent through the purpled plain; No Latian mothers mourn their sons

By painted patriots yonder slain.