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XVII.
But, fwain forsworn, who'er thou art;

This hallow'd ground forbear!
Remember COLIN's dreadful fate,

And fear to meet him there.

AN

IMITATION

OF THE

PROPHECY OF NEREUS.

From HORACE, Book III. Ode XXV.

Dicam infigne, recens, adhuc

Indictum ore alio. Non fecus in jugis
Exfomnis ftupet Evias,

Hebrum profpiciens, & nive candidam
Thracen, ac pede barbaro

Luftratam Rhodopen, Hor.

By the Same.

A

S Mar his round one morning took,

(Whom some call earl, and some call duke) And his new brethren of the blade, Shiv'ring with fear and frost, survey'd,

On

On Perth's bleak hills he chanc'd to fpy
An aged wizard fix foot high,
With briftled hair and visage blighted,
Wall-ey'd, bare-haunch'd, and fecond-fighted.

The grizly fage in thought profound
Beheld the chief with back so round,
Then rolld his eyeballs to and fro
O'er his paternal hills of snow,
And into these tremendous speeches
Brake forth the prophet without breeches.

Into what ills betray'd by thee;
This ancient kingdom do I fee!
Her realms unpeopled and forlorn !
Wae's me! that ever thou wert born!
Proud English loons (our clans o'ercome)
On Scottish pads shall amble home;
I see them dress’d in bonnets blue,
(The spoils of thy rebellious crew)
I see the target caft away,
And chequer'd plad become their prey,
The chequer'd plad to make a gown
For many a lass in London town.

In vain the hungry mountaineers
Come forth in all their warlike

geers,
The shield, the pistol, durk, and dagger,
In which they daily wont to swagger ;
And oft have fally'd out to pillage
The hen-roofts of fome peaceful village,

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Or, while their neighbours were asleep;
Have carry'd off a low-land sheep.

What boots thy high-born host of beggars;
Mac-leans, Mac-kenzies, and Mac-gregors,
With popish cut-throats, perjur'd ruffians,
And Forster's troops of raggamuffins ?

In vain thy lads around thee bandy,
Inflam'd with bagpipe and with brandy:
Doth not bold Sutherland the trusty,
With heart fo true, and voice so rusty,
(A loyal foul) thy troops affright,
While hoarsely he demands the fight?
Do't thou not gen'rous Ilay dread,
The bravest hand, the wiseft head ?
Undaunted do'st thou hear th' alarms
Of hoary Athol sheath'd in arms?

Douglas, who draws his lineage down
From thanes and peers of high renown,
Fiery and young, and uncontrol'd,
With knights and squires, and barons bold,
(His noble houshold-band) advances,
And on his milk-white courser prances.
Thee Forfar to the combat dares,
Grown swarthy in Iberian wars :
And Monroe kindled into rage
Sowrly defies thee to engage }
He'll rout thy foot, though ne'er so many,
And horse to boot if thou hadt any.

But

But fee Argyle with watchful eyes,
Lodg'd ir his deep intrenchments lies!
Couch'd like a lion in thy way,
He waits to spring upon his prey ;
While like a herd of tim'rous deer
Thy army shakes and pants with fear;
Led by their doughty gen’ral's skill;
From frith to frith, from hill to hill.

Is thus thy haughty promise pay'd
That to the Chevalier was made,
When thou didst oaths and duty barter
For.dukcdom, gen'ralfhip, and garter ?
Three moons thy Jemmy shall command;
With highland sceptre in his hand,
Too good for his pretended birth

Then down shall fall the king of Perth. 'Tis so decreed : for George shall reign, And traitors.be forfworn in vain. Heav'n fhall for ever on him smile, And bless him ftill with an Argyle. While thou, pursu'd by vengeful foes, Condemn'd to barren rocks and snows; And hinder'd paffing Inverlocky, Shalt burn thy clan, and curse poor Jocky:

Vol. I,

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T ,

In vain thy with gives all thy rural hours
To the fair villa, and well-order'd bowers ;
To court thy pencil early at thy gates,
Ambition knocks, and fleeting Beauty waits ;
The boafful Muse, of others fame fo fure,
Implores thy aid to make her own secure ;
The great, the fair, and (if ought nobler be,
Ought more belov’d) the Arts solicit thee.

How can'ft thou hope to fly the world, in vain
From Europe fever'd by the circling main :
Sought by the kings of every diftant land,
And every heroe worthy of thy hand.
Haft thou forgot that mighty Bourbon fear'd
He still was mortal, till thy draught appeard ;
That Cosmo chose thy glowing form to place
Amidst her matters of the Lombard race ?

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