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And never. since she first began to hop
Up Iltav'n's blue causeway, of her beams

profuse, Shone there a dawn so glorious and so pay, As shines the merry dawn of Anster Marketday.

Round through the vast circumference of sky One speck of small cloud cannot eye behold, Save in the East some fleeces bright of die, That stripe the hem of henv'n with woolly

gold, Whereon are happy angels wont to lie Lulling, in amaranthine flow'rs enroll'd, That they may spy the precious light of God Flung from the hlessed East o'er the fair

Earth abroad.

The fair Earth laughs through all her hound

less range, Heaving her green hills high to greet the

beam; City and village, steeple, cot and grange, Gilt as with nature's purest leaf-gold seem; The heaths and upland muirs, and fallows,

change Their barren brown into a ruddy gleam, And, on ten thousand dew-bent leaves and

sprays. Twinkle ten thousand suns and fling their

petty rays.

Up from their nests and fields of tender corn Might merrily the little sky-larks spring, And on their dew-bedabbled pinions borne, Mount to the heav'n's blue key-stone

flickering; They turn their plume-soft bosoms to the

morn, And hail the genial light and eheerly sing; Echo the gladsome hills and valleys round. As half the hells of Fife ring loud and

swell the sound.

For, when the first up-sloping ray was flung
On Anster steeple's swallow-harh'ring top.
It's bell and all the bells around were rung
Sonorous, jangling loud withdut a stop,
For toiling ly each bitter beadle swung,
Ev'n till he smok'd with sweat, his greasy

rope, And almost broke his bell-wheel, ush'ring in The morn of Anstek K vin with tinkle-tankling din.

And, from our steeple's pinnacle nut-spread.
The town's long colours flare and flap on high.
Whose anchor, blazon'd fair in green and red,
Curls pliant to each breeze that whistles by;
Whilst, on the boltsprit, stern, and topmast-
Of brig and sloop that in the harbour He,
Streams the red gaudery of flags in air,
All to salute and grnee the morn of Anster-


And soon the pipers, shouldering abac Thro' the close mob their aquees'd s>

■way. Stood at the hillock's font, an eager tare Each asking license from the Ling to fr For with a tempest, turbulent audi am Labonr'd their bags impatient of dean Heaving their bloated globes outrage*. As if in pangs to give their contents U tk»«.

And every bag, thus full and tempest Beneath its arm lay ready to be pmt And, on the holes of each fair-polish's' v Each- piper's fingers long and white v

plac'd; Fiercely they burn'd in jealous rivals*Each madding piper scofPd at all the m And fleer'd and toss'd rnnli niptuaaalj a

head. As if his skill alone deserv'd fair Mi«;


Nor could they wait, so piping-mad d

were. Till James gave each man orders U l«i But in a moment they displode their u In one tumultuous and unlicens'd din. Out-flies, in storm of simultaneous bJirThe whizzing wind comprest their to

within, And, whiffling through the woodea W

so small, Growls gladness to be freed from such esse

ing thrall

Then rose, in burst of hideons symphtiOf nihrorhs and of tunes one mingled rsv Discordantly the pipes squeal'd sharp «

high, The drones alone in solemn concord mFive hundred fingers, twinkling funoi < Play twiddling up and down on hole ant' ►».' Now passage to the shrilly wind drayat And now a little rais'd to let it out a-sjjr!u»:

Then rung the rocks and raves of Billyp-s
Reverberating back that concert's aoonrf
And half the lurking Eehoes that psora
The glens and hollows of the Fifaa graaat
Their shadowy voices strain'd into rxrra
Of out-cry, loud huzzaing round and r*s»
To all the Dryads of Pitkirie wood.
That now they round their trees should to
in frisky mood

As when the sportsman with report of c*
Alarms the sea-fowl of the isle of Maj.
Ten thousand mews and gulls that •».•

the sun Come flapping down in terrible dismay And with a wild and barb'roti* concert stun I lis can, and scream, and shriek, and wheel

away; Scarce can the boatman hearhis plashing oar; Yell caves and eyries nil, and rings each

Maian shore:

Just so around the knoll did pipe nnd drone
Whistle and hum a discord strange to hear,
Tort'ring with violence of shriek and groan
Kingly, and courtly, and plebeian car;
And still I lie men had humm'dand whistled on,
Ev'n till each bag had burst its bloated

sphere, Had not the king, uprising, wuv'd his hand, And check'd the boist'rous din of such 1111

manner'd band.

On one side of his face a langh was seen.
On t' other side a hnlf-fornTd frown lay hid;
He frown'd, because they petulantly keen,
Set up their piping forward nnd unbid;
He langh'd, for who could have controul'd

his mien
Hearing such crash of pibroch* as he did?
He bade them orderly the strife begin,
And play each man the tune wherewith the

fair he'd win.




Tiikrr was a poet, whose untimely tomb No human hands with pious reverence reared, I!ut the charmed eddies of autumnal winds Huilt o'er his mouldering bones a pyramid Of mouldering leaves in the waste wilderness: A lovely youth, —- no mourning maiden

decked With weeping flowers, or white cypresswreath. The lone couch of his everlasting sleep: — Gentle, nnd brave, and generous,— no lorn

bard Breathed o'er his dark fate one melodious

sigh: Me lived, he died, he sang, in solitude. Strangers have wept to hear his passionate'

notes. And virgins, as unknown he past, have pined And wasted for fond love of his wild eyes. The fire of those orbs has censed to burn, And silence, too enamoured of that voice, Locks its mate music in her rugged cell.

My solemn vision and bright silver dream His infancy was nurtured. Every sight And Bound from the vast earth and ambient

air, Sent to his heart its choicest impulses. The fountains of divine philosophy Fled not liis thirsting lips, nnd all of great, Or good, or lovely, which the sacred past In truth or fable consecrates, he felt And knew. When early youth had past,he left His cold fireside and alienated home To seek strange truths in undiscovered lands. Many a vide waste nnd tangled wilderness Has lured his fearful steps; and he ha*'

bought With his sweet voice and eyes, from savage

men, His rest and food. Nature's most secret steps He like her shadow has pursued, where'er The red volcano over-canopies Its fields of snow and pinnacles of ice With burning smoke, or where bitumen-lakes On black bare pointed islets ever beat With sluggish surge, or where the secret

raves. Rugged and dark, winding among the springs Of fire and poison, inaccessible To avarice or pride, their starry domes Of diamond nnd of gold expnnd above Numberless and immeasurable hulls. Frequent with crystal column, and clear

shrines Of pearl, and thrones radiant with chrysolite. Nor had that scene of ampler majesty Than gems or gold, the varying of heaven And the green earth lost in his heart its claims To love and wonder; he would linger long In lonesome vnles, making the wild his home, Until the doves and squirrels would partake From his innocuous hnnd his bloodless food, Lured by the gentle meaning of his looks; And the wild antelope, that starts whene'er The dry leaf rustles in the brake, suspend Her timid steps to gaze upon a form More graceful than her own. His wandering

step, Obedient to high thoughts, bus visited The awful ruins of the days of old: Athens, and Tyre, and lialber, nnd the waste Where stood Jerusalem, the fallen towers Of Babylon, the eternal pyramids, Memphis and Thebes, and whatsoe'er of

strange Sculptured on alabaster obelisk. Or jasper tomb, or mutilated- sphynx, Dark Aethiopia in her desert hills Conceals. Among the ruined temples there. Stupendous columns, and wild images Of more than man, where marble daemons

watch The Zodiac's brazen mystery, and dead men Hang their mute thoughts on the mute

walls around, He lingered, poring in memorials Of the world's youth; through the long

burning day

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Sow has descended n serencr hour,

kml with inconstant fortune friends retnrn;

Though suffering leaves the knowledge and

the power, iVIiich says:—let seorn he not repaid with

scorn, knd from thy side two gentle Italics are born To fill our home with smiles, and thus are we llost fortunate beneath life's beaming morn; knd these delights, and thou, have been to me I'lii' parents of the song I consecrate to thee.

s it that now my inexperienced fingers iut strike the prelude to a loftier strain? )r must the lyre on which my spirit lingers toon pause in silence ne'er to sound again, Though it might shake the anarch Custom's

reign, Vml charm the minds of men to Truth's own

sway, rlolier than was Amphion's? it would fain teply in hope—but 1 am worn away, knil death and love are yet contending for

their prey.

knd what art thou? I know, hut dare not

speak: Time may interpret to his silent years. i t-t in the paleness of thy thoughtful cheek, knd in the light thine ample forehead wears, knd in thy sweetest smiles, and in thy tears, knd in thy gentle speech, a prophecy s whispered to subdue my fondest fears: knd, through thine eyes,even in thy soul I sec k lamp of vestal fire burning internally.

They say that thou wert lovely from thy

birth, )f glorious parents, thou aspiring child.

wonder not—for one then left this earth Whose life was like a setting planet mild, Which clothed thee in the radiance undcfilcd )f its departing glory; still her fame Shines on thee, through the tempests dark

and wild Which shake these latter days, and thou

canst claim The shelter from thy sire, of an immortal


)ne voice came forth from many a mighty

spirit, Which was the echo of three thousand years; knd the tumultuous world stood mute te

hear it, ks some lone man, who in a desart hears The music of his home:—unwonted fears "ell on the pnlc oppressors of our race, knd faith and custom and low-thoughted cares .ike thunder-stricken dragons, for n space jeft the torn human heart, their food and


Truth's deathless voice pauses among

mankind! If there must be no response to my cry— If men must rise and stamp with fury blind On his pure name who loves them,—thou

and I, Sweet friend! can look from our tranquillity Like lamps into the world's tempestuous

night,— Two tranquil stars, while clouds are passing

Which wrap them from the foundering seaman's sight,

That burn from year to year with unextinguished light.



Sun-girt City, thou hast been

Ocean's child, and then his queen;

Now is come a dnrker day,

And thou soon must be his prey,

If the power that raised thee here

Hallow so thy watery bier.

A less drear ruin then than now,

With thy conquest-branded brow

Stooping to the slave of slaves

From thy throne, among the waves

Wilt thou be, when the sea-mew

Flies, as once before it flew,

O'er thine isles depopulate,

And all is in its nntirnt state.

Save where many a palace-gate

With green sea-flowers overgrown

Like a rock of ocenn's own.

Topples o'er the abandoned sea

As the tides change sullenly.

The fisher on his watery way.

Wandering at the close of day,

Will spread his sail and seize his oar

Till he pass the gloomy shore.

Lest thy dead should, from their sleep'

Bursting o'er the starlight deep,

Lead a rapid masque of death

O'er the waters of his path.

Those who alone thy towers behold
Quivering through aerial gold,
As I now behold them here,
Would imagine not they were
Sepulchres, where human forms,
Like pollution-nourished worms,
To the corpse of grentneas cling,
Murdered, and now mouldering:
But if Freedom should awake
In her omnipotence, and shako
From the Celtic Anarch's hold
All the keys of dungeons cold,
Where a hundred cities lie
Chained like thee, ingloriously,

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