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There, distant shone Art's lofty boast,
The lordly dome.

Here, Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd flood There, well-fed Irwine stately thuds:"

Auld hermit Ayr staw thro' his woods,

On to the shore

And many a lesser torrent scuds,

With seeming roar.

Low, in a sandy valley spread,
An ancient borough rear'd her head;
Still, as in Scottish story read,

She boasts a race,

To ev'ry nobler virtue bred,

And polish'd gracę.

By stately tow'r or palace fair,

Or ruins pendent in the air,

Bold stems of heroes, here and there,'

I could discern;

Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,
With feature stern.

My heart did glowing transport feel,

To see a race* heroic wheel,

And brandish round the deep-dy'd steel
In sturdy blows;

While back-recoiling seem'd to reel

Their suthron foes.

The Wallaces.

His COUNTRY's Saviour, mack* fine well. Bold Richardton's heroic swell;

The chief on Sarkt who glorious fell,

In high command;

And he whom ruthless fates expel

His native land.

There, where a sceptr'd Pictish shades
Stalk'd round his ashes lowly laid,
I mark'd a martial race, portray'd

In colours strong;

Bold, soldier-featur'd, undismay'd
They strode along.

Thro' many a wild romantic grove, ||
Near many a hermit-fancy'd cove,
(Fit haunts for friendship or for love)
In musing mood,

* William Wallace.

† Adam Wallace, of Richardton, cousin to the immortal pres server of Scottish independence.

Wallace, Laird of Craigie, who was second in command, under Douglas, Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle on the banks of Sark, fought anno 1448. That glorious victory was principally owing to the judicious conduct and intrepid valour of the gallant Laird of Craigie, who died of his wounds after

the action.

§ Coilus, king of the Picts, from whom the district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as tradition says, near the family-seat of the Montgomeries of Coils-field, where his burial place is still shown.

Barskimming, the seat of the late Lord Justice Clerk.

An aged Judge, I saw him rove,zuo
Dispensing good

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With deep-struck reverential awe
The learned sire and son I saw, or du
To Nature's God and Nature's law

They gave their lore,

This all its source and end to draw,
That, to adore.

Brydone's brave wardt I well could spy, Beneath old Scotia's smiling eye;

Who call'd on Fame, low standing by,

To hand him on,

Where many a patriot-name on high,

And hero shone.

DUAN SECOND.

WITH musing-deep, astonish'd stare,
I view'd the heav'nly-seeming fair;
A whisp'ring throb did witness bear,
Of kindred sweet,
When with an elder sister's air

She did me greet..

All hail! my own inspired bard!

In me thy native muse regard!

Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard,

Thus poorly low !

* Catrine, the seat of the late Doctor, and present Professer Stewart.

+Colonel Fullarton,

"I come to give thee such reward "As we bestow.

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'Know, the great genius of this land Has many a light, aërial band,

Who, all beneath his high command; •Harmoniously,

As arts or arms they understand,

• Their labours ply.

'They Scotia's race among them share; 'Some fire the soldier on to dare;

'Some rouse the patriot up to bare

Corruption's heart:

"Some teach the bard, a darling care, The tuneful art.

'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, They, ardent, kindling spirits pour; 'Or, 'mid the venal senate's roar,

They, sightless, stand,

To mend the honest patriot-lore,

And grace the hand.

' And when the bard, or hoary sage Charm or instruct the future age, "They bind the wild poetic rage

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young;

Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue;

• Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung

His "Minstrel lays;"

• Or tore, with noble ardour stung,

The sceptic's bays.

To lower orders are assign'd
The humbler ranks of Human-kind,
• The rustic Bard, the lab'ring Hind,
The Artisan;

All chuse, as various they're inclin'd
The various man.

"When yellow waves the heavy grain, • The threat'ning storm some strongly rein; Some teach to meliorate the plain, • With tillage-skill;

And some instruct the shepherd-train,

• Blithe o'er the hill.

Some hint the lover's harmless wile; "Some grace the maiden's artless smile i. • Some sooth the lab'rer's weary toil, For humble gains,

And make his cottage-scenes beguile

His cares and pains.

Some, bounded to a district-space, Explore at large man's infant race, To mark the embryotic trace

Of rustic Bard;

• And careful note each op'ning grace,

A guide and guard.

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