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MINSTRELSY

OF THE

SCOTTISH BORDER.

PART SECOND.

Romantic Ballads.

SCOTTISH MUSIC.

AN ODE.

BY J. LEYDEN.

TO IANTHE.

AGAIN, Sweet syren! breathe again
That deep, pathetic, powerful strain,
Whose melting tones, of tender woe,
Fall soft as evening's summer dew,
That bathes the pinks and harebells blue,
Which in the vales of Tiviot blow.

Such was the song that soothed to rest, Far in the green isle of the west,

The Celtic warrior's parted shade; Such are the lonely sounds that sweep O'er the blue bosom of the deep,

Where ship-wreck'd mariners are laid.

Ah! sure, as Hindú legends tell,
When music's tones the bosom swell,

The scenes of former life return;
Ere, sunk beneath the morning star,
We left our parent climes afar,
Immured in mortal forms to mourn.

Or if, as ancient sages ween,
Departed spirits, half unseen,

Can mingle with the mortal throng;
"Tis when from heart to heart we roll
The deep-toned music of the soul,
That warbles in our Scottish song.

I hear, I hear, with awful dread,
The plaintive music of the dead !

They leave the amber fields of day:
Soft as the cadence of the wave,

That murmurs round the mermaid's grave, They mingle in the magic lay.

Sweet syren, breathe the powerful strain !
Lochroyan's Damsel* sails the main ;

The crystal tower enchanted see! "Now break," she cries, "ye fairy charms !" As round she sails with fond alarms, "Now break, and set my true love free!"

* The Lass of Lochroyan-In this volume.

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