III.

Then maids and youths fhall linger here,
And, while its founds at distance swell,
Shall fadly feem in Pity's ear

To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell.
IV.

Remembrance oft fhall haunt the shore
When Thames in fummer wreaths is dreft,
And oft fufpend the dashing oar

To bid his gentle spirit rest!

V.

And oft as Eafe and Health retire

To breezy lawn, or forest deep,

The friend shall view yon whitening * spire,
And 'mid the varied landscape weep.

VI.

But thou, who own'fl that earthly bed,
Ah! what will every dirge avail?
Or tears, which Love and Pity shed
That mourn beneath the gliding fail!

VII.

Yet lives there one, whofe heedless eye
Shall fcorn thy pale fhrine glimmering near?
With him, fweet bard, may Fancy die,
And Joy defert the blooming year.
VIII.

But thou, lorn ftream, whofe fullen tide
No fedge-crown'd fifters now attend,

• Mr. Thomson was buried in Richmond church.

Now

Now waft me from the

green

hill's fide

Whofe cold turf hides the buried friend!

IX.

And fee, the fairy vallies fade,

Dun Night has veil'd the folemn view!
Yet once again, dear parted shade,
Meek nature's child, again adieu !

X.

The genial meads * affign'd to bless
Thy life, shall mourn thy early doom!
Their hinds and fhepherd girls shall dress
With fimple hands thy rural tomb.

XI.

Long, long, thy stone, and pointed clay
Shall melt the mufing Briton's eyes,
O vales, and wild woods, fhall he say,
In yonder grave your Druid lies !.

VERSES

Written on a Paper, which contained a Piece of Bride-Cake..

E curious hands, that, hid from vulgar eyes,

YE

By search profane fhall find this hallow'd cake,

With virtue's awe forbear the facred prize,

Nor dare a theft for love and pity's fake!

* Mr. Thomson refided in the neighbourhood of Richmond fome time before his death.

This precious relick, form'd by magic power,
Beneath the fhepherd's haunted pillow laid,
Was meant by love to charm the filent hour,
The fecret prefent of a matchless maid.
The Cyprian queen, at Hymen's fond requeft,

Each nice ingredient chofe with happieft art;
Fears, fighs, and wishes of th' enamour'd breaft,
And pains that please are mixt in every part.
With rofy hand the spicy fruit fhe brought,

From Paphian hills, and fair Cytherea's isle ;
And temper'd sweet with these the melting thought,
The kifs ambrofial, and the yielding smile.
Ambiguous looks, that fcorn and yet relent,
Denials mild, and firm unalter'd truth,
Reluctant pride, and amorous faint confent,

And meeting ardours, and exulting youth.
Sleep, wayward God! hath fworn, while these remain,
With flattering dreams to dry his nightly tear,
And chearful hope, fo oft invok'd in vain,
With fairy fongs fhall footh his penfive ear.
If, bound by vows to friendship's gentle fide,
And fond of foul, thou hop'ft an equal grace,
If youth or maid thy joys and griefs divide,

O, much intreated leave this fatal place.
Sweet Peace, who long hath fhunn'd my plaintive day,
Confents at length to bring me fhort delight,

Thy careless steps may scare her doves away,
And Grief with raven note ufurp the night.

AN

AN

O DE

ON THE

POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS

OF THE

HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND;

CONSIDERED AS THE

SUBJECT OF POETRY..

INSCRIBED TO Mr. JOHN HOME..

I..

HOME, thou retumn't from Thames, whofe Naiads

long

Have feen thee lingering with a fond delay,

Mid thofe foft friends, whose hearts fome future day, Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic fong*.

Go, not unmindful of that cordial youth †

Whom, long endear'd, thou leav'ft by Lavant's fide; Together let us wish him lafting truth,

And joy untainted with his destin'd bride.
Go! nor regardless, while these numbers boast
My fhort-liv'd blifs, forget my social name;
But think, far off, how, on the Southern coaft,
I met thy friendship with an equal flame!

How truly did Collins predict Home's tragic powers! + A Gentleman of the name of Barrow, who introduced Home to Collins

E4

Fresh

Fresh to that foil thou turn'ft, where every vale

Shall prompt the poet, and his fong demand:
To thee thy copious fubjects ne'er shall fail;
Thou need'ft but take thy pencil to thy hand,
And paint what all believe, who own thy genial land.
II.

There, must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill;
'Tis Fancy's land to which thou fett'ft thy feet;
Where ftill, 'tis faid, the Fairy people meet,
Beneath each birken shade, on mead or hill.
There, each trim lafs, that fkims the milky ftore
'To the fwart tribes, their creamy bowls alots;
By night they fip it round the cottage-door,
While airy minstrels warble jocund notes.
There, every herd, by fad experience, knows
How, wing'd with Fate, their elf-fhot arrows fly,
When the fick ewe her fummer food foregoes,

Or, ftretch'd on earth, the heart-fmit heifers lie. Such airy beings awe th' untutor'd swain:

Nor thou, tho' learn'd, his homelier thoughts negle&t; Let thy fweet Mufe the rural faith sustain;

These are the themes of fimple, fure effect,

That add new conquests to her boundless reign,

And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding

ftrain.

III.

Ev'n yet preferv'd, how often may'ft thou hear,
Where to the pole the Boreal mountains run,
Taught by the father, to his listening son;
Strange lays, whofe power had charm'd a Spenfer's ear.

At