LXV. DUNCAN'S WARNING. -AIKIN. As o'er the heath, amid his steel-clad thanes, Where full to view, high topp'd with glittering vanes, side: In dusky mantle wrapp'd, a grisly form Rush'd with a giant's stride across his way; And thus, while howl'd around the rising storm, Stop, O king, thy destined course, Furl thy standard, turn thy horse, Death besets the onward track, Come no further!-quickly back. Hear'st thou not the raven's croak? See'st thou not the blasted oak? Feel'st thou not the loaded sky? Read thy danger, king, and fly.— Lo! yon castle banners glare Murder, like an eagle, waits, Perch'd above the gloomy gates, Just in act to pounce his prey; Come not near; -away! away! Let not plighted faith beguile, Honour's semblance, Beauty's smile; Fierce Ambition's venom'd dart Rankles in the festering heart. Treason, arm'd against thy life, Points his dagger, whets his knife, Drugs his stupifying bowl, Steels his unrelenting soul. Now, ’tis time !–ere guilty night Close around thee, speed thy flight; If the threshold once be crost, Duncan! thou'rt for ever lost. Hastes to fill his mortal date: Cease ye warnings, vain, though true; Murder'd king! adieu, adieu! LXVI. THE BABES IN THE WOOD. JERNINGHAM. LET others praise the martial song, Which rushes as a flood; And round the harp attentive throng, Let me the humble bard revere, Who snatch'd the tale, to pity dear, Say, little Mary, prattling maid, Beneath what holy yew tree's shade VOL. I. Ah! not on Westminster's proud ground, The vain enquiry waste; Go where the meek of heart are found In unambitious rest. Where Walton's limpid streamlet flows A gently rising hillock shews The hamlet's straw-roofed fane. Hard by is seen a marble stone,. Within this low, obscure abode, Oft have I left the beaten road, To greet the poet's shade. |