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In evil hour he left the tranquil shade
Yet while for him, belov'd, admir'd in vain,
Thus Vandals, Goths, and Huns, exulting come,
who honour Genius-sacred beam !
“ Thy liberal heart, and judging eye
VALLESIA *, whose illustrious blood,
Deriy'd from chiefs of mighty name, Who long their country's barrier stood,
Still glows with honour's purest flame:
Oh, long may life's declining ray
On thee with mildest radiance shine, And selfish prayers protract the day
That bears thee hence to joys divine !
* This Lady is representative of that Family, from which Sir William WALLACE derived his origin.
For thee, awakes each tuneful lyre,
Each guardian virtue hovers round, The “ voice of Coila" leads the choir,
And Coila's hills return the sound !
Sweet voice, that first awak'd thy ear,
When languor spread its thickest gloom, Sweet hills, whose echoes lov'd to bear
His wood notes to VALLESIA's dome.
Though cold the hand that wak’d the lyre,
And mute the voice that tun'd the lay; That spark of pure celestial fire,
That warm’d the strain, shall ne'er decay.
While Wealth and Power, with cold regard,
Beheld the Muse's darling Son! He wak'd that lay :-his best reward,
The smile of Nature—and thy own.
'Twas thine, in fortune's lowest vale
The crush’d, neglected flower to spy,
Nor only to the poet's lay,
Hast deign'd, with kind regard to bend, But through life's short and stormy day,
Consold him with the name of Friend :
That name, his best and dearest boast,
Whene'er his erring steps would stray, Rever'd, belov'd, and honour'd most,
Recall'd him back to wisdom's way.
And when the wounds of Anguish bled,
Thy kindness dropt the healing balm ; And when the storm of Passion fled,
Thy counsel breath'd the sacred calm.
. And when Misfortune's tempest lowr'd,
Thy kind assisting hand was near ; And when Remorse its sorrows pour'd,
'Twas thine to wipe the bitter tear.
Thou knew'st, well read in wisdom's lore,
What failings with our virtues blend; Than truth and honour sought no more,
Nor vainly hop'd a faultless friend.