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Yet tho' dark Ruin's raven sway

Hath swept thy hour of pomp away,
Tho' Superstition's bleak and cowering wing

Thy shadowy throne with gloomy pride o'erspread,
We yet may ask, if chance our footsteps bring,
To mourn thy triumphs lost, thy glories fled,

Where Tully's lips thy senates mov'd,

Where Horace tun'd the lyre he lov’d, Or Mantua's Swan, in Cæsar's happier day, Swell's with unruffled plume its pasțral lay,

Where Julius fell, and chaste Lucretia pour'd Her agonizing sout on Honour's beamy sword!


But lo! from Asia's hills afar

Descends a long continued train,
Is it the bickering march of war,

That throngs with troops the tented plain?
No thurders rive the withering air,
Nor helm, nor panoply is there,
With pensive pace, a pilgrim baud,

To fair Medina's distant strand,
And Mecca's hallow'd fanes devout they poor,
From Carmel's cliff, from Tartan Caspia's shore

Tyre's golden gates, Sabaea's balmy bloom,
And kiss with holy joy the dark Usurper's tombe

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Lift high the swelling strain,
And loftier notes prepare,
For see, where Albion quits the westering tide :

So leaves the lord of beasts his lair,
So shakes the terrours of his golden mane :
Queen of the Isles ! fair Honour's bloomy bride
I know thee now-I know each craggy seat,
Faith's firmest throne, and Freedom's best retreat;
I know the heroes of thy patriot line,
I know each raptur'd bard, each sage divine :

Whether thy Shakespeare's thunders roll,
Or Otway charms the subject soul,
Or Newton kens the milky way,

Or Milton drinks the gales of day.
What tho' around thy native mound

The frowns of Danger widely spread,
Tho' billows scowl, and tempests howl,

And hover o'er thy fearless head :
Still may'st thou urge thine empire o'er the main,
Nor hurl thy vollied fires, nor lift the lance in vain !


By showering wealth and titles splendid

On thee! the basest of the bad !
It seems that Fortune sure intended

To drive insulted Virtue mad,

R. A. D.

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My soul praise the Lord, speak good of his name,
His mercies record, his bounties proclaim:
To God, their Creator, let all creatures raise
The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise !

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Though hid from man's sight, God reigns on his throne,
Yet here by his works their great Author is known;
The world shines a mirror its Maker to show,
And Heaven views its image reflected below,
Those agents of pow'r, fire, water, earth, sky,
Attest the dread might of God the most High:
Who ides on the whirlwind, when clouds veil his form,
Who.smiles in the sun-beam, or frowns in the storm,

By knowledge supreme, by wisdom divine,
God governs this earth with gracious design:
O'er beast, bird, and insect, his providence reigns,
Whose will first created, whose love still sustains.

And man, his last work, with reason endued,
Who falling through sin, by grace was renew'd :
To God, his Creator, let man ever raise
The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise !






These classic margins of the silver Tay
First saw the prowess of the godlike Hay*;
Here with his gallant stripling sons he stood,
While flow'd around him streams of Danish blood.

* The battle of Luncarty was fought in the tenth century be. tween the Scots and Danes, soon after the latter invaded Scotland, in the reign of Kenneth the third King of Scotland. The Scots waited for the Danes after their landing, on the plains of Luncaity four miles above Perth, when a bloody battle ensued, at which the Scots were giving way on all sides. Hay, a peasant, accompanied by two of his sons, saw what was likely to be the issue of the day, and, armed with only such weapons as his occupation furnished him with, by the force of his valeur, courage, and heroic behaviour, he was not only instrumental in stemming the tide of the battle, but his prowess so animated the retiring troops of the Scots, that they rallied, repulsed, and effectually obliged the Danes to retire in great disorder to their ships, which lay at anchor at the mouth of the Tay. As soon as Kenneth heard of the gallant atchievement of the heroic peasant, be created hím Earl of Frroll, and gave him as much land as a Falcon fler over before he alighted. The flight of the bird happened to, be over the rich plain of Gowrie, commonly called the garden of Scotland.---From an origin so truly noble are descended the fami. lies of the Earls of Erroll and Kinnoul and the Marquis of Twee. Hale ; and if true benevolence, exalted dignity, and personal beauty, any way distinguish the human character, the descend. ants of so noble a progenitor prove themselves not only ennobied by the King of Scotland but by the King of Kings.

Hail land beloved! thy plains produced a man,
Who“ march’d in freedom's cause, and led the van;"
Whose arm uplifted broke th’invading band,
While Independence blessed his native land ;
Oh I could kneel and kiss the sacred soil,
Which grew prolific from the Ileroe's toil;
Which nerv’d the sinewy giant arm, that broke,
The wretched bondage of a foreign yoke,
And sav'd his country when around her pour’d

savage legions of a race abhorr'd.
And as amid thiese wrecks of time I'tracc,
With pilgrim footsteps, this respected place,
Which saw the splendid actions of your sire,
Actions succeeding ages still admire ;
By airy beings spoke methinks I hear,
These sounds celestial, warble in my ear:
“ Oh may the noble lineage thus begun,
“ Increase in splendor by each virtuous son;
• And may each beauteous daughter still'unite,
“ An Angel's goodness, with the Hero's might;
“ And as old Time advances, may the name
“ Still bloom immortal, in the fields of Fame !"

R. C

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