THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
->*> V 
 
C^l-/(^ 
 
 './/^/^^ 
 
 ^/-^f . /^ 
 
TRIFLES 
 
 IN 
 
 VERSE. 
 
Printed by George Ramsay & Co. 
 
TRIFLES 
 
 IN 
 
 VERSE: 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 SOME EXPERIMENTS IN LATIN RHYME. 
 
 BY 
 
 LIONEL THOMAS BERGUER, Esq. 
 
 I lovt tlie license all loo well. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PRINTED FOR JOHN ANDERSON AND COMPANY, 
 
 AND FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 I8I7. 
 
-J i^'ii : 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 For any illustrative, or explanatory remarks, 
 as connected with the following trifles, I refer 
 my readers to the notes. The Tentamina Me- 
 trica at the end of this little volume, are only 
 the beginning of attempts undertaken on a 
 much larger scale, in two of the modern lan- 
 guages, as well as in Latin. I do not apologize 
 for English idiom, which, in these pieces, could 
 not have been avoided, nor for English metre, 
 which I did not mean to avoid. As, in the 
 French, I have only preserved the Boat Song, I 
 have incorporated it into the Latin division, ra- 
 ther than mix it with poems to which it had no 
 reference. The Latin language is far the most 
 unfit for monosyllabic rhyme, the Italian alone 
 excepted ; which, from its still greater paucity 
 pf monosyllables, even than the Latin, I found. 
 
 HI'? 
 
VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 in some of my Experiments, to be quite unma- 
 nageable. The Carmen Aquaticum is, on this 
 account, to my ear, at least, often ludicrous; the 
 reader being obliged, in the alternate rhymes, 
 to shorten long syllables, and lengthen short 
 ones : as will be perceived by the marks, I 
 have thought it necessary to substitute, as guides 
 to the ear. It would, however, be heard to ad- 
 vantage, operatically performed. The French 
 can be moulded to any thing. I translated 
 the second canto of the Rape of the Lock, but 
 much too carelessly to give to the public, seve- 
 ral years ago, easily preserving throughout the 
 English heroic measure. The Latin, also, and 
 even the Italian, is well adapted for dissyllabic 
 rhyme, and always very tractable, where no mo- 
 nosyllables are required. 
 
 Edinburgh, \ 
 March 3, 1817.]" 
 
TO 
 
 FREDERICK VERNON WENTV\ ORTH, Eso, 
 
 OF 
 
 WENTWORTH CASTLE, 
 IN YORKSHIRE, 
 
 THIS IIANDTUL OF WILD FLOWERS 
 
 IS OFFERED 
 BY HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 To Frederick Vernon Wentworth, Esq 3 
 
 Stanzas, inscribed to Walter Scott, Esq 10 
 
 To a Young Lady, in answer to a complimentary 
 
 Copy of Verses, 27 
 
 Song, Flora Mocdonald, 27 
 
 To a Young Lady. From Horace, 32 
 
 To Miss Elizabeth Bencraft, S3 
 
 Seng, 38 
 
 Verses, on seeing the picture of a young Highland 
 
 Lady, 40 
 
 Song. The Thistle, 43 
 
 To Edmund Kean, Esq 46 
 
 Song, 52 
 
 Why I dislike Waltzing, 55 
 
 Helen. A real Incident, 57 
 
 Song Written for the first Anniversary of the 
 Battle of Waterloo, by my friend, Lieutenant Skin- 
 ner, of the Ninety-Second Regiment, and sung at 
 
 the ^^ess, t)0 
 
 Song. Doina de Clyde, G3 
 
 To Orea, QO 
 
 b 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 The Faiewcl. To Miss , by a most Intimate 
 
 Friend, 69 
 
 To tlie Nightingale. Written at the age of Fourteen, 
 
 by a very dear Friend, 71 
 
 Song. Translated from the French, 73 
 
 To Bransby Blake Cooper, Esq 75 
 
 To a Lady weeping, 79 
 
 To my Mother Abroad, 80 
 
 Notes, 82 
 
 Ode Alcaica. Napolconi, Russiam ferro et igne 
 
 vastanti, Bardus, 9I 
 
 Ode Sapphica. Virgo Saragossae, 96 
 
 Ad Gratiolara Epigramma, 98 
 
 Tentamina Metrica, 99 
 
 Carmen Aquaticmn, - 101 
 
 Chant Aquatique, 104 
 
 Lallus Fitz-Jacobi, 107 
 
 Lanientum Allan-Bani, 110 
 
 EpithalamimTi Editha;. Fragmentum, 112 
 
 Feriscelis, 114 
 
TRIFLES 
 
 IN 
 
 VERSE. 
 
TO 
 
 FREDERICK VERNON WENTWORTH, Es^. 
 
 Tecum vivere amem. 
 
 HOR. 
 
 I. 
 
 My Frederick, I could ever stray 
 
 Your beechen groves among, 
 Listing the linnet's morning lay, 
 And blackbird's mellow tongue. 
 There, piping to some wood-nymph gay, 
 Like Pan, I'd spend the summer day ; 
 And, when the shades fell on the vale. 
 Hark to the whistling nightingale. 
 What love-dreams o'er my fancy float, 
 Whene'er I hear his wilding note j 
 While Ivor's swelling groves around 
 The Terean melodies resound. 
 
4 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 II. 
 
 But I must throw that harp aside, 
 In hours of idlesse gaily tried, 
 And soon shall sleep, in stillness mute, 
 The keys of my Arcadian flute. 
 Yet, ere 'tis hushed, that homely song, 
 And sink, in silence lone and long, 
 Mixed in one wreath let friendship twine 
 Your name for ever blent with mine. 
 Oh ! more to me than all beside, 
 Wentworth, my ornament and pride. 
 Forgive the fond, officious vow, 
 And hang this garland on your brow. 
 It will be sweet, in after time. 
 When my lulled harp forgets its chime, 
 To ponder o'er the song it wove. 
 And feed my vanity of love. 
 
 III. 
 
 Peace to it, then, o'er dale and dell ! 
 Hygeia bids the strain give o'er * 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Peace ! though its echoes never fell 
 
 So sweetly on mine ear before. 
 Is it, because my footsteps tread 
 
 The soil so famed in early story ? 
 Where matchless Wallace fought and bled, 
 
 And Bruce attained undying glory ! 
 Be what it may, against my will, 
 I smack of the enthusiast still. 
 
 In poetry's expiring trance 
 Still fondly clinging to romance. 
 
 And many a struggle must be mine 
 Those finer feelings to forego, 
 
 Ere from my heart I disentwine 
 That zest of joy, that balm of woe. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Oh ! rude reahties of life, 
 
 For ever with my soul at strife, 
 Whence are these visions that I see. 
 Of something which may never be ? 
 
" TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Why were the musings of my youth 
 Still fairer than the fairest truth, 
 If no bright heaven, beyond the grave. 
 Shall realize the dreams it gave ? 
 Unsolid pageantries, begone ! 
 Why do ye tempt me to dream on ? 
 Too fastly speed life's winged years 
 For unsubstantial smiles and tears. 
 
 V. 
 
 For us, my Wentworth, here below, 
 Enough of unideal woe, 
 Sinking in pleasure's cup, like lead, 
 Its weight of alloy, dull and dead. 
 Then, wherefore grieve because mankind 
 Is ever gross and unrefined ? 
 When I have wept such sight to see, 
 The world ne'er sympathiz'd with me. 
 
 Oh ! I have felt, while in mine ear 
 Their sordid sensual language rang. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 And apathy stood, brute-like, near, 
 Unconscious that it gave a pang ! 
 
 Felt ! 'till I thought it were as well 
 To search for sympathy in hell, 
 Or look for attributes divine 
 Among a senseless herd of swine. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now, from my air-built castles hurl'd, 
 
 At juster rate I prize the world : 
 
 The fault was more in me than them, 
 
 I raked a dunghill for a gem. 
 
 Wiser and happier he who flings 
 
 A philosophic glance on things ; 
 
 And, knowing that they might be worse, 
 
 Feels imperfection less a curse. 
 
 Grateful, if here and there he find 
 
 A spark of the Eternal Mind, 
 
 He mingles in the flow of soul, 
 
 And lets the vulgar current roll. 
 
^ TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 VII. 
 
 For me ! I've less romance, I own, 
 Since first my pity shocked the town ; 
 And faintlier comes, for other's woe. 
 Philanthropy's enthusiast glow. 
 When public clamour's deafening gong 
 Drums out its victim from the throng ; 
 No matter, whether truth or lies, 
 We must not dare to sympathize. 
 Oh ! horrid libel on mankind 
 Suspicion, jaundicing the mind. 
 Can hiss his bosom-friend, and shun him, 
 As if the Centaur's shirt were on him; 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Then, turn to what account you may, 
 The good and evil of the day ; 
 And, in this game of hit or miss. 
 Take the world, calmly, as it is. 
 And oh ! if, in some peevish hour. 
 When faithless friends shall turn me sour. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 " Or sickening pang of hope" delayed, 
 Or truth to interest betrayed ; 
 Tired of the chequered scenes of life. 
 Tired of its struggles and its strife, 
 From man, in fretfulness of heart. 
 But yet, no misanthrope I part- 
 Give me that lone and sweet alcove. 
 That skirts the brink of Rockley grove. 
 
 IX. 
 
 There, with light step, at early day, 
 Blithely I'd brush the dews away, 
 And thread, with heart of care devoid. 
 The tangled alleys of Brooraroyd j 
 Stealing athwart the wood-girt mead, 
 To watch the grouping hares at feed, 
 Or startling, at his grassy cheer, 
 In forest-walk, the dappled deer. 
 But, far from me the cynic spite 
 Of stern and selfish anchorite. 
 
10 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Who lets no human foot intrude 
 Upon his savage solitude. 
 I could not bear, though Eden smiled, 
 To live so unbeloved, and wild. 
 
 X. 
 
 But George should come, at friendship's call, 
 And Margaret leave her stately hall, 
 And Pigot, from her green retreat, 
 Oft in our social circle meet. 
 
 Then would I seize my harp, and try 
 Old themes of minstrel melody, 
 Till bower and cottage, copse and lake. 
 Should with the widening music wake. 
 And back the swelling strain should bring 
 The pleasures of life's bygone spring. 
 
 Oh I false of taste ; Oh ! foolish blunder 
 My Wentworth, did you never wonder, 
 How restless man the world can roam, 
 And leave the dearest world at home ! 
 
STANZAS, 
 
 OCCASIONED BY A VISIT TO EDINBURGH IN 
 1815, INSCRIBED TO WALTER SCOTT, ESQ. 
 
 lUe per extentnm funem mihi posse videtur 
 
 Ire poeta, menm qui pectus inaniler angit, 
 
 Iiritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet, 
 
 Ut magus, et mod6 me Tliebis, modo ponit Alhenis. 
 
 HoR. Epist. 1. Lib. ii. 
 
 2-j, "^.Korogy ? ffxorog u, aXXa (pCug 1-/.orir/\ 
 
 Epigr. in Buohan. 
 
 I. 
 
 Oh ! wonder not, thou master of the lyre. 
 Blest Caledonian minstrel, wonder not 
 That bard, ungifted with thy muse of fire, 
 With praise obscure, and soon to be forgot, 
 
12 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 In echoes wakes thy name through glen and grot ! 
 Forgive that, not unmoved, through Rosslyn's 
 
 bowers 
 He roved, nor Hawthornden's sequestered spot ; 
 That not unmoved he looked on Edin's towers, 
 Where that famed minstrel dwells, who charmed 
 
 his tedious hours. 
 
 II. 
 
 Yet little reck'st thou of such lowly praise, 
 In the high zenith of thy well-earned fame j 
 Aye rightly deeming that no vulgar lays. 
 Glancing from harp inelegant and tame. 
 Can lessen or increase thy glorious name. 
 Still, spare the muse who, all unskilled in song, 
 Dares 'mid the chords to lay her fingers lame ; 
 Who, though her tune be harsh, her cadence 
 
 wrong, 
 Yet strays, for love of thee, her harp's rude maze 
 
 along. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 13 
 
 III. 
 
 Forgive her, that she wakes this lay to thee, 
 Nor from her descant turn thine ear in scorn : 
 No mountain daughter of Harmonia she ; 
 Yet fond to hear, on distant echoes borne. 
 Thy kingly hunter wind his bugle-horn. 
 Oh ! fond to hear the martial pibrochs ringing 
 Float up Loch-Katrine's sides at early morn j 
 While, at each stroke the plaided boatman sing- 
 ing, 
 On Alpine's bannered flag his glance of pride is 
 flinging. 
 
 IV, 
 
 Once, gentler melodies she deemed to yield, 
 
 And on her harp-strings tune a sweeter lay : 
 
 But her, Hygeia from the lyric field 
 
 Woos with Apollo's other crown away. 
 
 His bright brows twined with her immortal bay. 
 
 She points where Gregory fills her mighty chair, 
 
14 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Beckoning the bard from Pindus' flowery way, 
 " Go ! spread like him," she cries, ** thy name 
 
 afar, 
 And mount to highest fame, beneath Hygeia's star." 
 
 V. 
 
 But Oh ! how oft reverting fancy flies 
 To the loved regions of romance again : 
 To her fond ken what fairy phantoms rise. 
 More exquisitely felt in every vein. 
 Than thrills of truest joy, and certain pain ! 
 How oft the scenes where boyhood loved to range, 
 Scenes of ideal bliss, resume their reign j 
 The willing mind from soberer truths estrange, 
 Aye prone for brighter dreams the cares of life to 
 change ! 
 
 VI. 
 Lovely Northesk, by thy romantic side, 
 Those brighter dreams, those dear deceits were 
 mine : 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 15 
 
 I kenned what poet on thy banks of pride 
 Erst came the tributary wreath to twine. 
 That graceful hangs on Rosslyn's mouldered shrine. 
 I kenned, and, as I flung my gaze around. 
 All sense absorpt in reverie divine. 
 Like one transported into fairy ground, 
 Listening, I seemed to catch that harp's bewitch- 
 ing sound. 
 
 VIL 
 
 For oft its magic minstrelsy had been 
 IMy sick soul's solace in her moody hour ; 
 When withering spite, or disappointment keen, 
 High hope reversing from her airy tower. 
 With dusky clouds made life's horizon lower. 
 O'er all the heart prevailed thy wizard song. 
 The drooping spirits felt its cheering power, 
 And turned from scenes of injury and wrong 
 To visionary bliss, unfound mankind among. 
 
16 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Thrice-envied Gr^me, such bliss was thine to feel. 
 With Ellen Douglas too supremely blest : 
 Fancy may frame, but never fate reveal 
 Raptures refined as those that filled thy breast, 
 With such a matchless paragon possest. 
 Fairest Loch- Katrine, beauty's charmed retreat, 
 Her chosen refuge, and her bower of rest, 
 The wild-flower on thy banks that kissed her feet 
 Lives in eternal song, and blooms for ever sweet. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Yes ! while the heart its pristine nature keeps, 
 And man one heavenly sympathy retains ; 
 While the struck virgin in her chamber weeps, 
 And tries to doubt the tumult in her veins, 
 But seems to wander through Elysian plains ; 
 While valour loves to dare for beauty's sake. 
 But sighs impatient in her gentle chains j 
 1 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 17 
 
 While all the passions poesy can wake. 
 So long thy charms shall last, sweet Lady of the 
 Lake. 
 
 X. 
 
 Lord of the best emotions of the soul, 
 Nature improves to hear thy lovely lyre : 
 From coarsest bosoms at that sweet controul 
 I see the uncultivated mind retire, 
 And softer sympathies the crowd inspired 
 Charmed while they listen to thy magic rhymes, 
 Plpbeian spirits burn with heavenly fire, 
 By fancy rapt to those congenial chmes 
 "Where honour fires the soul, and virtuous love 
 sublimes. 
 
 XL 
 
 By night, by day, where'er my footsteps rove, 
 Still o'er my breast thy genial muses reign j 
 Gild the soft scenery of the summer grove, 
 
 u 
 
18 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Frown in the mountain, laugh upon the plain. 
 Or coast the storied islands of the main. 
 Ellen in every lovely form anew, 
 Ellen in every beauty smiles again, 
 Ellen's in every graceful foot I view, 
 That from the uninjured flower dashed off the 
 morning dew. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Poet of Nature, bliss to thee I owe, 
 That soothes my sorrows, and my joy enhances : 
 When pity's sigh, or pleasure's mantling glow. 
 Heaves in my breast, or to my cheek advances. 
 More sweet that sigh, and mirth more gaily dances. 
 Such was thy power 'mid Gorki's festal scene. 
 Lending new charms to love's triumphant glances j 
 Where thronging youths in motly groupes were 
 
 seen. 
 And ladies light of heart, in beauty's dazzling sheen. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 1 
 
 XIII. 
 Such was thy power, 'when first to view confest, 
 Broke from afar Dun-Edin's battled mound : 
 Like summer bride, fantastically drest, 
 The Northern Queen upshoots her from the ground, 
 And peers to heaven, like Vesta, castle-crowned. 
 High towers the Calton on her eastern side. 
 Flinging broad survey on the plains around ; 
 The conscious sailor kens his pillar'd pride 
 Far up the dark blue Forth, and thinks how Nel- 
 son died. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Fair is Dun-Edin to my longing sight, 
 I love the dim grey towers of Holyrood ; 
 At shutting day, by Autumn's evening light, 
 'Tis sweet to wuniler by in pensive mood, 
 And see the moon play in those arches rude. 
 Then to remember what their ancient state. 
 And what alternate scenes of peace and leud ; 
 
20 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Contrast their grandeur with their present fate, 
 And scan what artless tale those ruined piles re- 
 late. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Oh ! Queen, too lovely, to perdition fair, 
 Most injured, most accomplished of thy time. 
 Oh ! victim Stuart, yet shall pity dare 
 (Maugre stern censure, in this fleeting rhyme) 
 To weep thy sorrows, and forget thy crime. 
 E'en when their last farewel thy maidens took, 
 And envy felt no mercy for thy prime. 
 As with sick soul the shuddering headsman strook. 
 On martyred beauty's pangs he might not dare to 
 look. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 So deemed the Bard, while on fair Holyrood 
 He mused, not thoughtless of her former days : 
 So deemed the Bard, where, in the distance viewed. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. ^1 
 
 Their frowning keep Craigmillar's turrets raise 
 
 Stern o'er the land, and quell the startled gaze. 
 
 For there was heard the solitary moan 
 
 Of beauty, pining in her bloom of days : 
 
 So the sweet goldfinch, into durance thrown, 
 
 Sings its lorn prison-song, and weeps its woes alone. 
 
 1. 
 
 Like a clan-circled chief on the hill is Dun-Edin, 
 
 Begirt wi' Mount Arthur an' Salisbury steep : 
 But I fly frae her streets in this hour o' my needin', 
 
 My hame's in my ken, yet a' lanely I weep. 
 Yet, dear to me still is mine ain bonnie town. 
 
 That looks up the valley, sae blithesome an' bra' ; 
 Though, fashed wi' my beauty, an' tired o' my 
 crown, 
 
 When a' laughs around me, I wither awa'. 
 
22 TRIFLKS IN VERSE. 
 
 2. 
 
 Freshly comes blawin' the dewy-mouthed mornin*. 
 An' bears frae yon rampart the clangour o' 
 mail: 
 Wi' the lass that he loos the young sodger is scorn- 
 in', 
 An' his voice, 'tween the drum-beats, is heard 
 on the gale. 
 By the burnside the sang o' the milkmaid is ringin', 
 As her leghlin she takes frae the stile in the wa'j 
 But, sad is the sang that her mistresss is singin', 
 When a' laughs around me, I wither awa.* 
 
 S. 
 
 Wet, wet are my cheeks wi' the tears o' complainin'', 
 As I gaze upon joys that my heart canna feel ; 
 
 Yet, a moment's short respite my sair grief is gain- 
 in', 
 Like IxiON, wha rested an* wept on his wheel. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 23 
 
 Oh ! what is my crown, but a bauble a plaything 
 In spite o' whase splendours the vulture will 
 gnaw ! 
 An' the pride o' my beauty it 'vaileth me nae- 
 thing 
 When a' laughs around me, I wither awa'. 
 
 XVII. 
 Fair is Dun-Edin to the minstrel's view, 
 I love the tartans of the sturdy Gael ; 
 So dressed his giant limbs brave Roderick Dhu, 
 When, bent the Saxon's castles to assail, 
 In plaided pride he strode o'er hill and vale. 
 So marched through driving snows his clans be- 
 side 
 Undaunted Charles, the plaid his better mail ; 
 Comrade and prince, in Scotland's peril tried. 
 Whom to her dearest hopes Culloden's day de- 
 nied. 
 
24 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Eclipsed in blood then sunk thy Stuart's star, 
 Oh ! Bard of Caledon, no more to rise ! 
 "Yet sighs thy country, though the time be far ; 
 And clansmen scarce can brook with tearless eyes 
 To trace that princely ruin through the skies. 
 Yet, Scotland, yet one grateful wreath entwine, 
 Where, dear to fame, thy patriot virgin lies. 
 Who snatched from death the last of Stuart's 
 
 line. 
 And watched with weeping eyes the Wanderer 
 
 cross the brine. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Land of sweet scenery, land of sweeter song, 
 In every spot thy classic charms abound ! 
 The Lowland stranger does fair Scotland wrong, 
 Whose view unblest her mountains never found. 
 Nor footstep trod her loch-enamelled ground. 
 Dull were the soul her beauties failed to move, 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 25 
 
 Dull were the eye could glance uncharmed around ; 
 Thrice dull, who through her grots and glens 
 
 could rove, 
 Nor think on Campbell's lyre, nor thy last lay of 
 
 love. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Is this the glorious soil of Bannockburn ? 
 Is this the air that Bruce and Wallace drew .'' 
 Where sleeps the Southern spoiler in his urn. 
 Methought again red Falkirk rushed to view, 
 And Stirling's bugle to my fancy blew ! 
 Is Cambuskenneth to oblivion gone ? 
 Uosslyn forgot, and thine own Flodden, too .' 
 Where Chester charged, and Stanley galloped 
 
 on. 
 But all too late for thee, intrepid Marmion. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Bard of the North, farcwel : I dare not more 
 With breast all uninspired, and feeble hand: 
 A tribute, mightier far, has gone belbrc ; 
 
S6 
 
 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 And on thy shelf, fit gift of rival grand, 
 The cup of Hafiz shall for ever stand. 
 Enough for me, if no vain hopes betray, 
 Thou wilt not spurn my homely laurel-band ; 
 Nor undistinguished let this votive lay, 
 'Mid hum of chattering crowds, in silence die 
 away. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Nor hath it died in silence ! thanks to thee, 
 Superior to low prejudice, whose ear. 
 Still closed against the tale of calumny. 
 Not all the tongues of mischief, babbling near, 
 Could steel against the song it loved to hear 
 Obscure, but honest ! No it hath not died 
 That lay, which only boasts to be sincere ! 
 But, stemming first, then carried down the tide, 
 Mixed with thy fame, the verse goes floating far 
 and wide. * 
 
TO A YOUNG LADY, 
 
 IN ANSWER TO A COMPLIMENTARY COPY OF VERSES. 
 
 Non nietus, officio nee te cerlasse priorem 
 Paeniteat. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 Oh ! early skilled to storm the heart, 
 Young adept in the minstrel art, 
 Where did you learn, on Sapphic shell 
 To play so sweetly, and so well ? 
 Your fingers run along the lyre 
 With such a swelling sweep of fire. 
 Their touch might well be deemed the rage 
 Of more than twice your tender age. 
 
28 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 My spirit owns your kindred sway, 
 And loves the unexperienced lay, 
 Still ringing wild, in grief or glee, 
 With Nature's highest minstrelsy. 
 It comes across this vale of crime. 
 With such a soft and holy chime. 
 As music falls in desart lone, 
 Or trumpet, by an angel blown. 
 
 " Unschooled in worldly thoughts and feelings ?" 
 No we have had too many dealings. 
 The world and I, worse hap for me ! 
 That I can still unworldly be. 
 And you, sweet eulogist, ere long. 
 Life's eddying turmoils thrown among, 
 Shall weep your disenchanted spell, 
 And learn the danger to excel. 
 
SONG. 
 
 FLORA MACDONALD. 
 
 Quae te tam laeta tulerunt 
 Secula ? qui tanli talem genuere parentes ? 
 In t'reta dum fluvii current, dnm Diontibus umbrae 
 Lustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pastcet, 
 Semper honos, nomenque tnum, laudesqtie manebunt. 
 Quae me cuiique vocant terrze. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 I. 
 
 Hae ye no heard, when dear Charlie was roamin* 
 
 An exile his ain happy islands amang, 
 Wha crossed the braw laddie's gate in the gloamin,' 
 
 Wha sped him safe frae the Cumberlan* gang ? 
 Hae ye no heard o' the Maid o' CJanronald, 
 
 Wha mounted at eenin' her gray dappled steed ? 
 Hae ye no heard o' that angel, Macdonald, 
 
 How linkin* she rade, when her prince was in 
 need ? 
 
30 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 II. 
 
 She cast round her shoulders the true tartan 
 plaiddie, 
 
 And swith snatched the maiden her bonnet o' blue : 
 Oh ! vveel may ye fancy it moved the braw laddie, 
 
 When she knelt down before him, sae lovely to 
 view ! 
 In their ain liquid orbits her bright een were lavin', 
 
 Like twa dewy stars in an ocean of air ; 
 And down till her middle, in ebon pride wavin', 
 
 Fell the dark ringlets o' lang raven hair. 
 
 III. 
 
 I kenna, cried Charlie, why wander ye hither, 
 
 Why kneel ye, dear lassie ? ye owe me nae lee : 
 I fly to far countries, I scarcely ken whither, 
 
 Then kneel na, dear lassie, Oh ! kneel na to me. 
 He raised her, he kist her, and baith wept thegither. 
 
 Entranced in a sacred, saft silence o' wae : 
 And think ye, my prince, I wad kneel to anither. 
 
 Oh ! think ye Macdonald her faith can betray ? 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 31 
 
 IV. 
 
 No ! I ken thy true heart in thine ee's gentle beam- 
 in' 
 Nae traitress art thou, but my guardian and 
 guide : 
 Lead, lead where thou wilt by yon pale planet's 
 gleamin', 
 I'll follow thy footsteps, whate'er may betide 1 
 She's brought him her maiden's attire to disguise 
 him. 
 Gown, kerchief, and bonnet he donn'd ilka ane: 
 Gude Kingsburgh wi' shelter and shipping supplies 
 him. 
 And far o'er the waters prince Charlie is gane* 
 
TO A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 Vitas hiniiuleo me siinilis, Cliloe. 
 
 HOR. 
 
 You shun me, like a kid, my love, 
 
 Seeking its dam in lone recesses ; 
 Quelled, if a gust disturb the grove, 
 
 And rustle in its leafy tresses. 
 Scared at the waving of a rush. 
 
 Or slightest motion life resembling, 
 A lizard, stirring in the bush, 
 
 Will set its heart and limbs a-trembling. 
 
 Yet no pursuer, fierce and fast. 
 Like tiger, I to spoil and ruin : 
 
 Then, leave your mother's side at last. 
 For yours is the right age to woo in. 
 
TO 
 
 Miss ELIZABETH BENCRAFT. 
 
 FROM WENTWORTH CASTLE, IN THE 
 SUMMER OF 18 IG. 
 
 Olim i.ieminisse juvabit. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 I. 
 
 Nay, tell the truth downright, my dear, 
 I must have no dissembling here, 
 Have you not said deny it not 
 That Berguer had his iViends forf^ot ? 
 That northward, with himself from you 
 He carried all allection, too ; 
 Repaying friendship's dearest right 
 With cold neglect, and truant slight ? 
 
34 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 II. 
 
 And sooth, to half the world beside, 
 Such judgment were not misapplied: 
 But me, who deviate from the rules 
 That govern coxcombs, lords, and fools, 
 By heart and not appearance scan, 
 Too plain to be a fashionsman. 
 Nor deem my memory so ingrate, 
 Although the laggard tongue be late, 
 
 O DO o ' 
 
 To turn with undelighted eye 
 On pleasures flown too quickly by. 
 
 III. 
 
 Though here I lounge with sauntering pace. 
 
 And find no end to park and chase, 
 
 The woodbined cottage haunts me still, 
 
 And rustic bowers of Balham Hill. 
 
 Oh ! dearly fancy loves to trace 
 
 Each absent form, each well-known place: 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE, 35 
 
 To Clapham now she turns her eyes, 
 And now to Tooting Common flies, 
 Where oft we wandered, two and two, 
 With Stephen, Lucy I, with you. 
 Triumphant fancy, airy ranger. 
 Still to the present scene a stranger, 
 Through time and distance journeying fast. 
 Restores, and re- enjoys the past ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 But you, my friend, in what retreat 
 
 Will these poetic trifles meet ! 
 
 In green Saint Leonard's, making merry 
 
 With my gay hostess, charming Bury ? 
 
 Bright as the Dardan's goddess-dam, 
 
 Smiling, to cheer dejected Sam. 
 
 Or, strolling through Anne's arbourcd walk 
 
 With her, in desultory talk ? 
 
 Now, studying what this dress shall be. 
 
 Now, arguing on the ' Rhymes of Shce." 
 
OO TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Or, Still immured like convent maid, 
 Gliding through Down's sequestered shade ? 
 Learning with Sophy, in a grove. 
 How Piatonism wars with love 1 
 For love despite each foreign theme- 
 Is all unwedded beauty's dream. 
 
 V. 
 
 Avoid, avoid the dangerous power, 
 He reigns in contemplation's hour : 
 You do not know how reason reels. 
 When on the heart that softness steals. 
 Let Wandsworth's laurelled maids inspire 
 With emulation's noble fire ; 
 And round your brow, in wreath divine, 
 The triumphs of the pencil twine. 
 
 VL 
 
 For me I loiter, all too long, 
 
 My Wentworth's woody dales among j 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 3? 
 
 Cheating the hours, to physic due. 
 For converse with the muse, and you. 
 Vainly, as yet, Edina calls 
 Her absent votary to her halls : 
 Far off he strikes the random string. 
 And Stainborough's beechen valleys ring. 
 
SONG. 
 
 XaiPOiTi Xoi'-ov Tiiiiv. 
 
 Anacr. 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear sex, whose fond endeavour 
 Is still to charm our lives, 
 
 Our guardian angels ever. 
 As sisters, mothers, wives ! 
 
 With every pleasure teeming 
 That tempts a lover's sly kiss 
 
 Xa/^o/7s /xo/, riNAIKES ! 
 
TRIFLES TN VERSE. '^9 
 
 II. 
 
 With strong affections gifted, 
 
 Too oft your virtue's ban ; 
 By love's pure thoughts uplifted 
 
 Above jjross, sordid man ! 
 With eye all rapture-beaming, 
 
 With face, that goddess-like is 
 Xa;io/7= /jjitc/ ri/j^iv ! 
 
 Xaiioili /Ml, rXNAIKES! 
 
 III. 
 
 When toils and grief importune 
 
 Our refuge from despair: 
 Our pride in happy fortune 
 
 And can I leave the fair ? 
 No ! never 'till, pale-gleaming, 
 
 Death's lightning hurled to strike is 
 
 Xa/;0(7s ,aw, FTNAIKE::: ! 
 
VERSES, 
 
 ON SEEING THE PICTURE OF A YOUNG HIGH- 
 LAND LADY, AT MR Y *S EXHf- 
 
 BITION. 
 
 Ut vidi, ut peril, ut me mains abstulit error ! 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 Miidiouvli 6-jv ofjjiiari (paid^a idiffdai. 
 
 MOSCH. 
 
 Oh ! for that Highland harper's lays, 
 
 So eloquent in maidens' praise, 
 
 Who framed Loch Katrine's green alcove. 
 
 And sang so lovelily of love : 
 
 Or, were that harper's chance, like mine. 
 
 To stand before this bGauteous shrine ! 
 
 For he would say, whate'er thou art, 
 
 Love never formed thy counterpart. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 41 
 
 And, from that brow half hid, half seen, 
 'Mid glossy curls of ebon sheen, 
 And from the soul, that glances high 
 In flashes from thy dark blue eye, 
 And that free step, and faultless mould, 
 (More than from Ellen's broach of gold,) 
 Thy Caledon's own bard had said, 
 *' A chieftain's daughter seems the maid !" 
 
 And princelier maid than thou, I guess, 
 
 Yet never donned the tartan dress. 
 
 If e'er spoke out in face divine 
 
 The stamp of high and lordly line. 
 
 The plaid, that graces all beside, 
 
 Flows round thy feet with conscious pride, 
 
 As I'i tJiiiie arm might best uprear 
 
 The mantle to the Stuarts dear. 
 
 Hope of thy clan, whose nameless name 
 I would but dare not give to fame. 
 
42 TRIFLES IX VERSE. 
 
 I could gaze on thee, and forget 
 The star of Caledon had set ! 
 Or, dream thee that enthusiast maid, 
 On whom its dying glories played ; 
 Who fearless faced the crashing levin, 
 And caught the falling fire from heaven ! 
 
SONG. 
 
 THE THISTLE. 
 
 Nemo me impune lacessit. 
 
 Motto of the Thistle. 
 
 I. 
 
 Away with your mawkishly redolent posies, 
 That pall on your stomachs, but pamper your noses : 
 The jasmine for Jane, and the foxglove for Fan, 
 But, the thistle for me, that's distinguished by Ann ! 
 
 With its prickles and stickles 
 
 My fancy it tickles. 
 Oh ! the thistle for me, that's distinguished by Ann ! 
 
44 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 II. 
 
 The rose of the garden, and pink of the glade, 
 Are emblems, that suit with a languishing maid : 
 But, a tartar to deal with deny it who can 
 The thistle's a much better symbol of Ann ! 
 
 With its " nemo lacessit," 
 
 And prickles, God bless it, 
 The thistle's a much better symbol of Ann ! 
 
 III. 
 
 The snow is less white than the down on its cheek, 
 And the silkiest ermine v/as never so sleek : 
 Oh ! what, in the region of plants, will you scan, 
 To match with the thistle, distinguished by Ann ! 
 
 Like snow and like erniinc. 
 
 What plant may determine 
 To rival the thistle, distinguished by Ann ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 Unscathed in its beauty, unbent m Its form, 
 Superior it stands in the season of storm : 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 45 
 
 The blue-bell will fade, and the cowslip look wan, 
 But the thistle survives, that's distinguished by Ann ! 
 
 Though the hollow wind v/histles 
 
 Around its green bristles. 
 The tliistle survives, that's distinguished by Ann ! 
 
EDMUND KEAN, Esq. 
 
 Non ego le nicis 
 Chartis iuornatum silebo. 
 
 HOR. 
 
 SAPpir. 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear Kean, you admirable wit, 
 Worthy in Garrick's chair to sit, 
 (All flattery and fulsome guile hence ) 
 I cannot know you thus in silence ! 
 And, though ray verse may ill proclaim 
 Your merit, equal to your fame, 
 At least, 'twill serve me to make known 
 A friendship I am proud to own. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 47 
 
 Though, trust me, did my fancy view 
 None, but old Drury's scenes, in you, 
 'Thad left for better bards to tell 
 How in the drama you excel. 
 But, thoughts of long- remembered joy 
 Come mingling with your name, my boy. 
 
 II. 
 
 I think, 'tis fifteen years, or more 
 
 Long ere your crest displayed *' the Boar," 
 
 Our classic forms I took my seat on 
 
 With you, a stripling boy, at Eton. 
 
 Nor dreamt I, 'mid the stormy feuds 
 
 Of life, and its vicissitudes, 
 
 That e'er *' we two should meet again," 
 
 To broach Macculloch's best champaigne. 
 
 Still less, in this far northern clime. 
 
 To see your genius break, sublime, 
 
 Like a full stream of boreal light, 
 
 Flashed on the drama's wintry night. 
 
48 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 III. 
 
 Yet, nigh had managerial malice 
 Dairhed from your lips the glittering chalice, 
 When up your soaring spirit rose, 
 Triumphant o'er a thousand foes. 
 Vanished the fiendish league afar 
 Before that bright, ascending star, 
 And jealousy, that mai'ked its road, 
 Burst with her spleen, like ^sop's toad. 
 So, when the snakes, with hisses dread, 
 \^^oke young Alcjdes in his bed, 
 The infant laughed at Juno's errors. 
 And strangled both the scaly terrors. 
 
 IV. 
 
 What, though the impish, reptile crew, 
 Where genius shines, will still pursue ; 
 Buzzing its fulgent paths about, 
 Like hornets, with their stings cut out ? 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 49 
 
 The man it views with envious eye 
 The railing herd will still decry ; 
 With lynx's glance his faults detect, 
 And magnify his least defect. 
 Let it rail on, the headstrong brute, 
 'Till choked with its own lies-~'tis mute: 
 In spite of all the slanderous ill. 
 Dear Kean, you can be ilichard, still. 
 
 V. 
 Fickle and false, the vulgar mind 
 Veers like a vane with every wind j 
 To-morrow, ready to gainsay 
 The breath of praise it gave to day. 
 But, can such truantry employ 
 One serious thought of pain, or joy ? 
 Trust me a rush, a straw, a feather 
 I rank their praise and blame together. 
 
 B 
 
50 TRIFLES IN VERSE, 
 
 VI. 
 
 The tribute, that your talent earns 
 From breasts, where kindred genius burns. 
 And tears, from Byron's manly eyes, 
 Beyond a thousand plaudits, prize. 
 But, laugh to scorn the critic sneer 
 Of weekly print, or pamphleteer : 
 While with four horses post you travel. 
 Let the mad Caledonian * cavil. 
 
 VII. 
 
 With wealth, and wit, and genius rare, 
 Of Nature's boundless stores the heir, 
 Whose buskin, since George Cooke withdrew, 
 None dares to buckle on, but you 
 With power, the wretched to relieve 
 A heart, to feel a hand, to give 
 With soul, heaven-gifted formed to prove 
 Our public wonder, private love 
 
 A Scotdi newspaper. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 51 
 
 Your friend, too can he more require ? 
 Blest with the Muse's partial fire, 
 Each in his own peculiar way, 
 What reck we, though the chatterers say, 
 I fled to town, all prudence scorning, 
 And YOU drink brandy in a morning I 
 
[52] 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Absent, present, de pres, de loin, 
 Je t'aime est le mot que je tronve : 
 
 Seule avec toi, devanl temoia, 
 Ou je le pense, ou je I'^piouve ! 
 
 Fabre d'Eglantine. 
 
 I. 
 
 I WISH I hadna met you. 
 My bonnie, bonnie May j 
 
 Since I maun sair regret you, 
 In the north hills far away. 
 
 11. 
 
 Wi' sic a face an' een, you 
 Will bear the grie frae a' : 
 
 Yet, wae that I ha'e seen you. 
 In the lang, lang tartan shaw* ! 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 53 
 
 III 
 
 For Saxon lads you care na, 
 
 Why was na I a Gael ? 
 Then I'd gang though now I dare na 
 
 To my lassie'b Highland vale. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I boast na me a clansman, 
 
 Wi' Southron slaughter dyed : 
 Yet, I'd be the Stuart's brandsman, 
 
 Gin his chance ance mair he tried. 
 
 V. 
 
 Oh ! a' for the love o' you, lass, 
 
 I'd don tile bonnie plaid ; 
 An', a' for your eon sao blue, lass, 
 
 I'd become a Highland lad ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 I'm no a mountaineer born, 
 
 Yet, I loo the mountaineer : 
 An,' I weel may blaw the deer-horn. 
 
 Though I never chu- od your deer- 
 
54 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 VII. 
 I'm no wi' Albyn blended. 
 
 Yet I spring frae tribes o' war : 
 By my auld grandsire descended 
 
 Frae Alpine clans afar : 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Whar' saved the state ane bowman, 
 W^i' a twang o' his bow-string : 
 
 An' quelled the foreign foeman. 
 Whiles Altorff' bells did ring. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Yet I wadna be that stalwart, 
 Wha took his aim sae well, 
 
 Nor lose my Scottish girl for't, 
 To be great V^^illiam Tell. 
 
 X. 
 
 But, a' for the love o' you, lass, 
 
 I'd don the bonnie plaid ; 
 An,' a' for your een sae blue, lass, 
 
 I'd become a Highland lad ! 
 
[55] 
 
 WHY I DISLIKE WALTZING. 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF TWO YOUNG 
 LADIES. 
 
 Motus doceri gaudet lonicos 
 Matara virgo, et fingitiir artubns 
 Jam nunc, el incestos amorcs 
 De teaero meditatiir ungiii. 
 
 Hon. 
 
 L'^clat du licit, le tuinulte, la danse, 
 L'art du d^isir, la voix de la liceuce, 
 L'impuDitfe du masque officieux. 
 Tout y fait naitre uu feu s^ditienx. 
 
 Gentil Bernabd. 
 
 Because, I worship that refined 
 And chaste virginity of mind, 
 That, from the loose and vulgar stare, 
 Still hides its treasures rich and rare : 
 
56 TRIFLES IN VKRSK. 
 
 That, unobtrusive, sweet, and shy 
 With a world's ianction in its eye. 
 Yet flies from the promiscuous touch, 
 And^ like Mimo&a, shrinks as much. 
 
 Because, Since Nature's self is frail, 
 The purest modesty may fail ; 
 And quench, i pj6ie's thrilling gaze. 
 Its beautiful and frosty blaze. 
 
 Because, The maid, who sees no danger 
 In mixing hands with every stranger. 
 Nor shuns to blend, with him or him. 
 Her floating shape and twirling limb> 
 May all too easily forget 
 What laws restrain what snares beset. 
 
 Because, The web oi chastest woof 
 
 Is not CONTAMINATION-PROOF : 
 
 And spite of all the world besides 
 
 I'd have maids, vestals 'till they're brides. 
 
[57] 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 A REAL INCIDENT. 
 
 Adero : dabis, improbe, paenas. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 False guardian of a charge too good ! 
 
 POPB. 
 
 I. 
 
 O'er moor, marsh, and mountain, o'er wild high- 
 land fells. 
 Where the robber retreats, and the ravisher dwells: 
 In haunts, where the plunderer lodges his prey, 
 And deeds are committed, that tremble at day ; 
 In the loneliest cave in the farthermost isle 
 Come ! look for lost Helen, the victim of guile. 
 
5S TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 II. 
 
 Her locks are bright auburn, her eyes are of blue, 
 Like evening's soft summer-sky, loaded with dew : 
 Her height is like Dian's, and Hebe's own glow 
 Shines warm in her cheek if not faded with woe. 
 But, her guardian has fled with the beautiful heir, 
 And kidnapped the gem, that was left in his care. 
 
 III. 
 
 She is torn from her friend from the friend of 
 
 her choice 
 In the halls of her kindred no more to rejoice: 
 Far distant she weeps, by her tyrant controlled, 
 A spoil for the spoiler, who covets her gold ! 
 But, the tracks of the Tarquin are still on the 
 
 plain. 
 And Helen shall yet see her kindred again. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 5 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then, seek for lost Helen, oh ! seek her, and save, 
 Ere the bridals of force make her bride of the grave. 
 No ! thou never shalt wed with that monster of 
 
 hate 
 Heaven yet will descend to thy rescue, though late : 
 Through the hills of the north, like a blood-hound 
 
 I'll range, 
 Nor rest 'till I find thee, and bring thee revenge. 
 
[ 60] 
 
 SONG. 
 
 WRITTEN FOR THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OP 
 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, BY MY FRIEND, 
 LIEUTENANT SKINNER, OF THE NINETY- 
 SECOND REGIMENT, AND SUNG AT THE 
 
 MESS. 
 
 Dicite io Paean, et io bis dicite Paean! 
 
 Ovid. 
 Yet, though they oft made hostile squadrons yield, 
 Tlie heroes never viewed a brighter field. 
 
 Mrs Grant. 
 
 Revolving time has brought the day 
 That beams with glory's brightest ray, 
 In hist'ry's page, or poet's lay, 
 
 The day of W^aterloo ! 
 Each British heart with ardour burns. 
 As this resplendent day returns. 
 While humbled France in secret mourns 
 
 1 he day of Waterloo ! 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 6\ 
 
 Then lift the brimful goblet high, 
 While rapture beams in every eye ; 
 Let shouts of triumph rend the sky, 
 
 The toast be Waterloo ! 
 To all who can the honour claim, 
 From Wellington's inimortal name, 
 To the humblest son of martial fame 
 
 Who fought at Waterloo ! 
 
 Fill, fill the wine-cup yet again ! 
 But alter'd be the joyous strain ; 
 To those the cup, now, silent drain, 
 
 Who fell at Waterloo ! 
 Soft sigh, ye breezes, o'er the grave 
 Where rest the relics of the brave, 
 And sweetest flow'rets o'er them wave. 
 
 Who sleep on Waterloo ! 
 
62 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 From their ensanguin'd, honour'd bed. 
 The oUve rears its peaceful head, 
 Nurs'd by the sacred blood they shed 
 
 At glorious Waterloo ! 
 In freedom's sacred cause to die. 
 In victory's embrace to lie, 
 Who would not breathe his latest sigh 
 
 Like those at, Waterloo ! 
 
[63] 
 
 SONG. 
 DOINA DE CLYDE. 
 
 QuJE sublegi tacifus libi carmina luipcr. 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear to my soul are the hills of the Highlands, 
 
 There, the Clrai-Alpine lived outlawed and lone; 
 Dear to my soul the Hebridean islands, 
 
 Bruce at thy bridals, there, Editha, shone. 
 Yet, not so much for yon chief of the mountain. 
 
 Pathless Benledi, I joy in thy pride : 
 Dearer to mc are thy rude rock and fountain, 
 
 Since they are sacred to Doina de Clyde. 
 
64 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 II. 
 Oft, in the trance of ray fancy, I've wandered 
 
 O'er the high summits of bald Benvenue j 
 Oft, on the banks of Loch- Katrine I've pondered, 
 
 Dreaming the barge of its Lady to view. 
 Haunts of romantic and wild meditation. 
 
 Mightier charms to your scenes are allied ; 
 Now, that your objects, in sweet combination, 
 
 Back to my fancy bring Doina de Clyde, 
 
 in. 
 
 Victress at Bannock, but vanquished at Floden, 
 
 Caledon triumphed alternate in war ; 
 'Till, with her tartans blood-drenched at Culloden, 
 
 Down from her orbit she dropped, like a star. 
 Ruined and lost, from the conquering foemen 
 
 Far fled the Stuart, her glory and pride ; 
 Say, did he 'scape from the Cumberland yeomen ? 
 
 Yes ! in the halls of my Doina de Clyde. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 65 
 
 ly. 
 
 DoiNA DE Clyde ! yet thy clansmen shall glory, 
 
 When their brave chiei'tain's descendant they 
 view : 
 Oft shall they think of that Highlander's story. 
 
 True to his prince, when 'twas death to be true. 
 When to my thoughts red CuUoden arises, 
 
 Thou, and the Stuart, my breast shall divide : 
 Woe to the wretch, who the tartans despises. 
 
 Since they are dear to sweet Doina de Clyde. 
 
 V. 
 
 Oh ! had I lived in the tempest of battle, 
 
 When the war-feuds on the borders were hiffh 
 Dear to me, then, were the musketry's rattle, 
 
 Daring each danger for Doina's bright eye. 
 Blest were 1 then, with her white arm around me. 
 
 Slinging my father's claymore at my side : 
 Blest weie I, then, when each night-fall had found 
 me 
 
 Locked in the arms of my Doina de Clyde, 
 e 
 
[66] 
 
 TO OREA. 
 
 Credimus ? an qui amant, ipsi sibi somDia fingunt ? 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 La plus rebelle est souvent la phis tendre. 
 
 Gentil Bernard. 
 
 I. 
 
 Oh ! what would I give, to divine 
 
 The state of thy bosom, that minute, 
 When last thy dark eye fell on mine. 
 
 As if destiny's frown had been in it I 
 Yet, surely, for me, such a frown 
 
 Was never intended, Ore a : 
 It was but a blind, to keep down 
 
 The clue to some tender idea ! 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 6? 
 
 II. 
 
 Like a cloud it came o'er thee, to hide 
 
 Thy bosom's internal commotion, 
 Which heaved, in its fulness and pride. 
 
 Like the up-and-down wave of the ocean. 
 And many a feeling was there, 
 
 Which a stranger might never discover ; 
 And thoughts, in which none had a share, 
 
 But the conscience-fraught breast of thy lover. 
 
 in. 
 
 And thy laughter was vacant and void, 
 
 And I saw, by the change that came o'er thee, 
 Both thy heart and thy mind were employed 
 
 On him who was sitting before thee. 
 And, in spite of thy patriot pride. 
 
 And fondness for national story, 
 Unheard on thy passive car died 
 
 The airs of thine ancestors' glory. 
 
8 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But, seldom thy glance fell on one, 
 
 Whose soul, ever anxiously silent, 
 To the looks, that he seemed most to shun, 
 
 A keen and a vigilant eye lent. 
 A space, in thy features' full light. 
 
 He sat watching their moody vagaries j 
 And joyed in each mark of thy slight, 
 
 Interpreting all by contraries. 
 
 V. 
 
 Thou art lofty and wayward to view. 
 
 But I see through thy caprice, believe me 
 Thy plaid-mantled bosom is true, 
 
 And Orea could never deceive me. 
 So boys, long accustomed to spy 
 
 The roundabout arts of the plover, 
 Mark most, as she wheels through the sky, 
 
 The spot, that she fails to fly over !^ 
 
[69] 
 
 THE FAREWEL. 
 
 TO MISS -, 
 
 BY A MOST INTIMATE FRIEND. 
 
 Longiira, Formosa, vale ! vale! 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 E tu chi sa, se mai 
 Ti soverrai di me? 
 
 Metastasio. 
 
 Farewel for me those locks of jet, 
 Whose lustre pains, but pleases yet ! 
 Farewel for me that ebon eye, 
 That wantons still in cruelty ! 
 Farewel for me the alternate swells 
 Of bosom, smooth as wave- worn shell ! 
 
70 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Farewel, that lip's vermilion hue 
 And thrice, oh ! thrice farewel to you ! 
 
 Grey be those locks of raven dye, 
 Dim be that laughter-loving eye, 
 The heaving of that breast be stayed, 
 That lip's inviting purple fade : 
 There's bliss in this in any ban- 
 To all I've felt, for love of Ann, 
 
[ 71 ] 
 
 TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF FOURTEEN, BY A 
 VERY DEAR FRIEND. 
 
 Pollio et ipse facit uova carmina. 
 
 VlRG. 
 
 Fies nobilium tu quoque fontiiim. 
 
 HoR. 
 
 Enchantress of the groves, why scorn the day, 
 And sing, when night puts on her sable grey ? 
 Soft in the woods your mellow note is heard, 
 Mixed with the scream of Pallas's own bird. 
 
 When all in silent gloominess is still, 
 Save the wild sound of yonder fountain's rill, 
 
72 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 Re-echoing through the forest's wide extent, 
 From tree to tree your soothing song is sent. 
 
 What ten-stringed lute, what instrument can be 
 Compared with your enrapturing melody ? 
 Potent the sleepy Morpheus to awake, 
 And with sweet sounds his dreamy slumbers break. 
 
 When morning dawns, you take your rapid flight 
 To the lone shades, to hide yourself 'till night : 
 Again, oh ! melancholy bird, I say. 
 Why scorn the beauties of the new-born day ? 
 
[73] 
 
 SONG. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROiM THE FRENCH. 
 
 C'est ia verdure. 
 
 Segvr. 
 
 I. 
 
 'Tis the verdure, 
 Which announces Nature, daily, 
 Waking sweetly, waking gaily : 
 Pleasure's throne she seems to hail ye 
 
 From the verdure ! 
 
 II. 
 
 In the verdure. 
 Zephyr sits, his brows inwreathing : 
 But his fresh and balmy breathing 
 Sets love's fiery cauldron seething, 
 
 In the verdure ! 
 
74 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 III. 
 
 Without verdure, 
 Myrtle- sprig, nor branch of laurel : 
 How the victor's brows apparel 
 In Love's camp, or Mars's quarrel, 
 
 Without verdure ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 On the verdure, 
 Innocence, with coy step straying. 
 Culls bright flowers for her arraying : 
 Which anon she loses, playing 
 
 On the verdure ! 
 
 V. 
 
 On the verdure, 
 Love obtained his wished-for treasure- 
 Since that bliss, exceeding measure, 
 Hope in the gay tints takes pleasure 
 
 Of the verdure ! 
 
[ 75 ] 
 
 TO 
 
 BRANSBY BLAKE COOPER, Esq. 
 
 ON HIS APPROACHING DEPARTURE FROM 
 EDINBURGH. 
 
 PoMPEi, nieomm prime sodaliuin! 
 Cum quo morautem saepe diem nieio 
 Fregi. 
 
 HoR, 
 
 I. 
 
 Yes ! oft, my boy, in many a weather, 
 We've crowned the sparkling cup together, 
 And more than once the morning skies 
 Have dawned upon our revelries. 
 Yes ! oft but ne'er too oft our souls 
 Have flowed commingling o'er the bowls, 
 In concert i^wect your's, Maw's, and mine ! 
 And friendship gave a zest to wine. 
 
76 TRIFLES IN VERSE. 
 
 We formed so close a trio then, 
 And all distinct from other men, 
 That every fourth was deemed, at best, 
 An interloper and a pest. 
 
 II. 
 
 Yet burnt we ne'er the midnight torch 
 
 In boisterous and sheer debauch ; 
 
 But still, in gaiety discreet, 
 
 We mixed the useful and the sweet- 
 
 You know how, inch by inch approaching, 
 
 Our foreheads oft would be encroaching, 
 
 'Till gaining all the space betwixt 
 
 O'er Gregory's classic page they mixt ! 
 
 And now, our changing theme would be 
 
 The wonders of anatomy: 
 
 The blood, diffused through every part 
 
 The refluent veins, tliat seek the heart 
 
 Where, Ganges-like, the arched aorta 
 
 Pours its broad wave of blushing water. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 77 
 
 III. 
 
 But yet, such scientific book, 
 
 For minstrel tale, I soon forsook j 
 
 O'er other page too fond to glow, 
 
 Than Fyfe, and Haller, and Monro. 
 
 " The Stag at eve," and " Branksome Tower," 
 
 Have charmed us many a winter hour : 
 
 And still I read and still you hung, 
 
 Like lover on his mistress' tongue 
 
 And swore, no song was ever heard 
 
 So sweet as his of Abbotsford. 
 
 Soft Campbell's harp of heavenly tone, 
 
 His lay of Hope was all our own : 
 
 And Byron, ever blazing fierce, 
 
 A meteor in the skies of verse. 
 
 IV. 
 
 He had not joined us, who alone 
 For Hymen's fraud might well atone : 
 
78 TRIFLES IN VERSK. 
 
 And all too soon 'till Ferriar came, 
 Yon lit, for me, the nuptial flame. 
 Bright may it burn, and pure, and long ! 
 Could envy mix my thoughts among, 
 The sight of worth by woman blest 
 Might wake that feeling in my breast. 
 
 Dear Cooper ! friendship, such as ours, 
 Will gild our retrospective hours: 
 And oft, while memory's pictures glow, 
 I love to hope to feel to knowy 
 As roll time's various changes on. 
 You'll think of me, when you are gone. 
 
[79] 
 
 TO A LADY WEEPING. 
 
 Lc plaisir, la peine, la volupt^, le d<ipit ont leurs larmes, et 
 Tamour les fait toutes couler. 
 
 DiCTrONNAIRE u'AmoUR. 
 
 Oh ! let me kiss those tears away, 
 
 That, on thy dear, dark lashes trembling. 
 
 Flash far their bright and briny spray. 
 The gems of weeping morn resembling ! 
 
 I cannot bear such sight to see, 
 
 I cannot look, with heart unbroken: 
 Those tears are bitterer stabs to me, 
 
 I'han all the cruel words you've spoken ! 
 
[80] 
 
 TO MY MOTHER ABROAD. 
 
 When I forget thee, may my right haud forget its cunning. 
 
 Holy Bible. 
 
 I. 
 
 Form of my mother ! though far, far away, 
 
 Thine image appears omnipresent to me : 
 It obtrudes in the busiest scenes of the day, 
 
 And returns to my pillow, when fancy is free. 
 In the joys of my soul, in my spirit's vexation, 
 
 When I smile, when I weep, when I hope, when 
 I fear 
 Like a part of myself, in my every sensation 
 
 Thy form is commingled, and seems to be near. 
 
TRIFLES IN VERSE. 81 
 
 II. 
 
 Form of my mother ! in Switzerland's vailies 
 
 I've sought thee, with Harriett, from life's 
 busy jar } 
 As oft, through her deep dells and wildering alleys, 
 By the blue lake of Lausanne you wandered afar. 
 At Morges, at Geneva, by lone wood or hill, 
 In the arbours of Berne, where you lingered 
 awhile. 
 My soul, ever present, attended you still. 
 
 And flew through the Simplon's romantic defile. 
 
 III. 
 
 Form of my mother ! though Caledon holds me. 
 
 And decks with unmerited honours my name ; 
 In the warm clime of Italy fancy enfolds me, 
 
 And bears me to Pisa, forgetful of fame. 
 Oh ! twined round my heart in the strength of af- 
 fection 
 
 Does the sigh never rise, for thy Frederick * 
 and me ? 
 Wide apart from us both yet, in fond recollectioji, 
 
 He dwells with delight on my sister and thee ! 
 
 My brolliei in ImliH. 
 
[82] 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Oh ! 'wonder noty thou master of the lyre. 
 
 Stanza i. page 1 1 . 
 
 I wish to say one word, about this reprint of the Stan- 
 zas to Mr Scott ; which, indeed, I could willingly have 
 omitted, on the ground of their utter unworthiness, as a 
 tribute to that most accomplished poet. But although, 
 in spite of several alterations, no limoE labor has put me in 
 good humour with them, and they are, moreover, objec- 
 tionably desultory and incomplete ; still, on the other 
 hand, I am averse to destroy a monument which my 
 fondness has raised to him, and whose downfal, sufficient- 
 ly ensured by its own perishable materials, I can be nei- 
 ther anxious to hasten, nor anticipate. 
 
 Not that I am apologizing, here, for their publication : 
 We often meet, in complimentary poems, with much 
 more eulogistic trash than will be found in mine. 
 
 But, my feelings of admiration for Mr Scott, cannot 
 rest satisfied with such an imperfect record ; and, it is not 
 
NOTES. 83 
 
 to recommend that, but to do justice to these, that I can- 
 not refuse to myself an accompanying expression of my 
 sentiments in plain prose. It is not possible for me to de- 
 scribe my delight in his works. They have presented to 
 me a series of intellectual banquets, from which I have 
 never risen without moral improvement, and a sensible 
 advance in the scale of perfection. He takes the feelings 
 and the passions by storm : he hurries along the imagi- 
 nation, till the world vanishes around us, and we be- 
 come incorporated into his own scenes, and glow with his 
 own enthusiasm. 
 
 As -with sick soul the shuddering headsman strook, 
 On martyred beauty s pangs he might not dare to look. 
 
 Stanza xv. page 20. 
 This passage was very different, in the quarto edition, 
 published in 1815. I have been led to alter it, from the 
 accidental sight of a critique much too flattering with 
 which that effusion was honoured on its first appearance, 
 by a lady, here, of the highest literary celebrity. It ap- 
 peared to her, as it then stood, (I think, to use her own 
 phrase ) " a laboured affectation of originality." I am 
 particularly happy, in this opportunity to express the de- 
 ference which I bear to that lady's opinions, on all sub- 
 jects ; and, I shall always feel proud to be directed by 
 so much taste and judgment. Nay, I will go farther yet, 
 and say, that, on most occasions in life, " Mallcm cum 
 Illa errare, quara cum reliquis hominibus sapere." 
 
84 NOTES. 
 
 Where dear to fame thy patriot virgin lies. 
 
 Stanza xviii. p. 24n 
 
 Flora Macdonald. See note to the song. 
 
 And Stirling's bugle to my fancy blew. 
 
 Stanza xx. page 25. 
 The battle of Bannockburn was fought in sight of Stir- 
 ling Castle, at that time garrisoned by Edward, and to 
 which the brother of Bruce was laying siege. 
 
 Rosslynforgotf and thine own Flodden, too ? 
 
 Stanza xx. page 25. 
 
 No connection is here intended between the two ; the 
 battles of Rosslyn took place long before Flodden Field, 
 during the struggle of Wallace. 
 
 And on thy shelf, ft gift of rival grand, 
 The cup of Hafz shall for ever stand. 
 
 Stanza xxi. page 16. 
 From all that I read in the newspapers, and heard in 
 society, at the time, I always understood, that Lord Byron 
 had presented Mr Scott with a silver cup, or goblet ; and 
 such, I know, has been the very general impression. I 
 have, however, seen this interesting gift. 
 
 It is a massive, cylindrical urn, not much unlike a sar- 
 cophagus, which, in fact, it might be called standing on 
 a solid, square pedestal, as I should guess, from four to 
 six inches in thickness : the urn and the pedestal being 
 one entire piece. On removing the lid, a very ueat dark 
 
NOTES. 85 
 
 blue bag is discovered, in appearance resembling a young 
 lady's satchel, but not in its contents. It is mounted on 
 a most magnificent stand, by Bullock. On the three pre- 
 senting sides of the base, are the following inscriptions. 
 
 First side. 
 
 THE BONES CONTAINED IN THIS URN 
 
 WERE FOUND IN SOME ANCIENT 
 
 SEPULCHRES WITHIN THE LONG WALL 
 
 OF ATHENS IN THE MONTH OF 
 
 FEBRUARY 1811. 
 
 Second side. 
 
 GIVEN 
 TO 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 April 
 
 1815. 
 
 Third side. 
 
 EXPENDE QUOT LIBRAS IN DUCE 
 
 SUMMO INVENIES ! 
 
 MORS SOLA 
 FATETUR QUANTULA 
 SINT HOMINUM 
 CORPUSCULA. JUV. 10. 
 
 Fourth side. 
 This is next the wall, and plain. 
 
86 NOTES. 
 
 I forbear any remarks on a present so characteristic 
 of the noble donor. That both the giver and receiver 
 may long ornament their country, must be the wish of 
 all. 
 
 Nor hath it died in silence. 
 
 Stanza xxii. page 26. 
 This is additional ; but it needs no elucidation. 
 
 Hae ye no heard d that angel, Macdonald, 
 
 How linkin she rade when her prince was in need f 
 Song. Flora Macdonald. 
 
 lis rencontrerent au point du jour, une demoiselle h che- 
 val, suivie d'un jeune domestique. lis hazardferent de lui 
 parler. Cette demoiselle etait de la maison de Makdonall, 
 attachee aux Stuarts. Le prince, qui I'avait vue dans le 
 temps de ses succes, la reconnut, et s'en fit reconnaitre. 
 Elle se jetta a ses pieds. Le prince, ses amis, et elje, 
 fondaient en larmes ; et les pleurs, que Mademoiselle de 
 Makdonall versait dans cette entrevue si singuliere el si 
 touchante, rcdoublaieiit par le danger od elle voyait le 
 prince. On ne pouvait faire un pas, sans risquer d'etre 
 pris. Elle conseilla au prince de se cacher dans une ca- 
 verne qu'elle lui indiqua au pied d'une montagne, pres 
 de la cabane d'un montagnard, connu d'elle, et affide ; et 
 elle promit le venir le prendre dans cette retraite, ou de 
 lui envoyer quelque personne sfire, qui se chargerait de 
 le conduire. (Euvres de Voltaire, Tome XII. chapit. 25, 
 Siecle de Louis Quinze. 
 
NOTES. 87 
 
 She's brought him her maiden's attire to disguise him, 
 Gown^ kerchief f and bonnet he domied ilka one. 
 Song. Flora MAcroxALD. 
 Onel (O'Neil, a friend of the prince) enfin va h la de- 
 couverle. II rencontra Mademoiselle Makdonall dans une 
 chaumiere. EUe lui dit qu'elle pouvait sauver le prince, 
 en lui donnant des habits do servante, qu'elle avait ap- 
 portes avec elle ; mais, qu'elle ne pouvait sauver que lui, 
 qu'une seule personne de plus serait suspecte. Ces deux 
 hpmmes n'hesiterent pas d preferer son salut au leur. lis 
 se s6par^rent en pleurant. Charles Edouard prit des ha- 
 bits de servante, et suivit, sous le nora de Betti, Made- 
 moiselle Makdonall, Les dangers ne cesscrent pas, malgre 
 ce deguisement. Cette demoiselle, et le prince deguise, 
 se refugi^rent d'abord dans I'lsle de Skie, a I'occident de 
 I'Ecosse. Memo Chapitre. 
 
 Xtti^oils Xoirrov jj/a/v ! 
 
 Xai^oili [101, rXNAIKES ! 
 
 Song. Page 38. 
 Chairoite loipon heniin, 
 Chairoite raoi, gunaikes I 
 
 I will follow Lord .Byron's example, and translate it 
 fearlessly for my fair readers. 
 
 Farewel, henceforth, for me, 
 Farewel for mc, ye women ! 
 
88 NOTES. 
 
 The jasmine for Jane, and the foxgloxie for Fan, 
 But, the thistle for me, that's distinguished by Ann ! 
 Song of the Thistle. 
 
 A young lady, who was on a visit with me at Went- 
 worth Castle, in the summer of 1816, one night caused a 
 thistle to be put into my bed. When I discovered it 
 which was not before I felt it ! I relighted my candle at 
 the dressing-room fire, and wrote the song, which I gave 
 her the next morning, at breakfast. 
 
 I think, 'tis fifteen years, or more 
 
 Long ere your crest displayed ^^ the Boar." 
 
 Letter to Mr Kean, page 46. 
 
 When Mr Kean, on his first appearance, carried the 
 whole town, as it were, by a coup de main, in his per- 
 formance of Richard the Third, Lord Byron is said to 
 have sent him a very handsome seal, with a Boar for the 
 device the crest of King Richard which he thence as- 
 sumed. I am sorry that I did not think, till it was too 
 late for this note, to ascertain it of Mr Kean himself. 
 
 But her guardian has fed with the beautiful heir. 
 And kidnapped the gem that was left in his care. 
 
 Helen, page 57- 
 This is a real incident, but I must not be too particular 
 here. " The letters from the young lady, in my posses- 
 sion, are evidently the production of a superior mind. 
 She is now nearly twenty-one fair complexion, blue 
 eyes, has some colour, and is rather tall : her whole ap- 
 
NOTES. 89 
 
 pearance, very lady-like and prepossessing." Letter to the 
 Author, 25th Janvary I8I7. 
 
 Say did he 'scape from the Cumberland yeomen f 
 Yes ! in the halls of my Doina de Clyde. 
 
 Song. Doina de Clyde, page 64. 
 An ancestor of the young lady in question, at the immi- 
 nent risk of his life, entertained the Chevalier, after his 
 defeat at Culloden. 
 
 At the end of these notes, I have to apologize for three 
 poems in this little volume, which are not mine. The 
 first of them, however, is out-borne by its own subject ; 
 and, in the insertion of the other two, I have yielded to 
 the dictates of private friendship. 
 
 The first of the following Latin odes was written at 
 Wentworth Castle, about the middle of December 1812, 
 during the ravages of the French army in Russia; at a 
 period, when the restoration of the Bourbons was not on- 
 ly not contemplated, but the very mention of such a pos- 
 sibility absolutely laughed at, by all pretenders to the 
 least political sagacity. The almost romantic enthusiasm 
 which mixes in all my speculations, and which was pre- 
 eminently identified with my feelings on this subject, ap- 
 pears to me, at this distance of time, to have risen al- 
 most intf) the spirit of a prophecy. I had already cor- 
 responded, more than once, on business of another nature, 
 with the Duke of Damas one of the oldest followers of 
 the fortunes of Louis the Eighteenth at that time attach- 
 
90 NOTES. 
 
 ed lo the little household, at HartwcU : and, so rooted in 
 my mind was the conviction, that, at least with regard to 
 the King, my prophecy would be accomplished, that I 
 could not resist the impulse which I felt to enclose it to 
 the Duke, and beg that he would present it, from me, to 
 his Majesty. The answer of the Duke, then Comte 
 Etienne, was as follows. 
 
 *' Monsieur, J'espere que vous ne doutez pas de I'em- 
 pressement que j'ai mis a faire connoitre a Monseigneur le 
 Due d'Angouleme le morceau de poesie Latine que vous 
 m'avez fait I'honneur de m'adresserle 17 du mois dernier. 
 Son altesse royale s'est fait un-plaisir de la presenter elle- 
 meme au Roi, son oncle, Sa Majeste vient d'etre incom- 
 modee d'un asscz gros rheurae, accompagne de goute au 
 pied, et ce n'est qu'aujourdhui que j'en ai regu I'ordre de 
 vous temoigner, Monsieur, que votre hommage lui a ete 
 agreable, et qu'EUe est particuliereraent sensible aux sen- 
 timents dont voire ouvrage est la preuve. Puissent vos 
 voeux, qui sont ceux de toute ame honnetc et loyale, se 
 realiser promptement ! le repos du monde est attache c4 
 leur succes. 
 
 " J'ai I'honneur d'etre, avec toute I'estime et la consi- 
 deration qui vous sont diaes, 
 
 INIonsicur, 
 Votre tres humble et tres obeissant serviteur, 
 Le Comte Etienne de Damas. 
 
 * Hartwell, le 12 Janvier 1813." 
 
 I am aware that these odes are very imperfect, but I 
 hope their blemishes will be less dwelt on, than their sub- 
 jects. 
 
[91 ] 
 
 ODE ALCATCA. 
 
 NAPOLEONI, RUSSIAM FERRO ET IGNE VASTANTI, 
 BARTDUS. 
 
 Thy empire shall pass into other hands. Tliou shalt be driven 
 from the company of men, and shall live in exile, until tlioii 
 shalt know that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, 
 and givcth it to whomsoever lie will. 
 
 Holy Bible. 
 
 Quo tendis ultra sanguineos gradus ? 
 Periculosum mitte, furens, opus : 
 Quid, maenium vastator, instas, 
 Plura tibi renegante Parca ? 
 
 Fractas phalanges excubiffi necant, 
 Actaeque noctes sub Jove frigido, 
 Telisque confectus, fameque, 
 Dcstituit miser arma miles. 
 
92 NAPOLEONI BARDUS. 
 
 En ! caede quanta, et quo fremitu fero, 
 Urget fugatas Russa acies manus ; 
 Diraeque tempestas procellae 
 It comes exitialis illi. 
 
 Tandem relictis parce cohortibus, 
 Lusosque serva, Saeve, satellites ; 
 Lethale decurrens Olympo 
 Praecipiti ut ruit axe sidus [ 
 
 Sat improbarmn crimina gentium 
 Punivit atrox ambitio tua ; 
 Sat filios flevere matres ; 
 Sat, juvenes viduae, maritos. 
 
 Cui favit dim, exosa tyrannidem 
 Fortuna pellex, pone movet rotam j 
 Caeloque desertus, priora 
 Marte malo temerabis arma. 
 
NAPOLEONI BARDtJS. 93 
 
 Quo te maniplis vana fides tuis 
 Superbientem pertulit ! irrita 
 Marcent in aeternum trophaea, 
 Et veteris monimenta belli. 
 
 Audire laetas jam videor tubas 
 Intercinentes funereum melos 
 
 lo, TRIUMPHATUS QUIESCIT, 
 
 Cessat, io, spoliator audax ! 
 
 Insurgit alto carmine Iberia, 
 Miscetque voces altera gens Tagi; 
 Prolesque libertatis, una 
 Helvetius simul atque tutor. 
 
 " Io," sereni Spiritus Hofferi, 
 Et non inultus concrepat Enghien : 
 
 *' Io" cruentatus tribunal 
 Mallachius, nece juniore ! 
 
 Le brave General Mallet. Tout le monde sait comme U 
 a 6t6 fusilfe i Paris, en 18I2. 
 
94 NAPOLEONI BAROUS. 
 
 Nunc expediti vincula rumpite, 
 Galli, propinquat Borbonius redux ! 
 Paeana plectris personate ; 
 Dicite BoRBONio salutem. 
 
 lo, Marengi gloria deperit ! 
 lo, superbse laurus ovans Jenje I 
 Nee fronte nutantem coronam 
 Tantus hymen stabilire quivit ! 
 
 En ! quo catenas, impatiens jugi, 
 Et vincla, coUo deripit Austria: 
 Uxorque non ultro, parent! 
 Redditur imperiosa princeps. 
 
 Ergo, virorum pernicies jacet ! 
 Ergo, cruentus Napoleon silet ! 
 Tantoque de raptore restat 
 
 Nil, nisi nominis umbra sacri ? 
 
 7 
 
NAPOLKONI BARDUS. 95 
 
 Caica CoRONAM sub pede Ferream ! 
 Galea, ominatum temporibus decus ! 
 Mundique bello, ter vocata, 
 Pax, laceris ades, alma, rebus. 
 
[96] 
 
 ODE SAPPHICA. 
 VIRGO SARAGOSS^. 
 
 Tiie Spanish maid, aroused, 
 Hangs on the willow her unstrung guitar ; 
 And, all unsexed, the anlace hatli espoused, 
 Sung the loud song, and dared the deed of war. 
 
 Lord Byron. 
 
 DuLcis horarum, Chely, die, magistra, 
 Semper antiquae studiosa Romas, 
 Die mihi dignum Saragossian^ 
 Virgine carmen. 
 
 Quae trucidatura ante oculos amorem 
 Audet nlcisci, furiosa conjux ! 
 Et maritandum femur insolent! 
 Praebuit ensi. 
 
VIRGO SARAGOSSiS. 97 
 
 Balteo pectus tenerum coercens, 
 Et renidentes galeata crines, 
 Voce turbatas iterura cbegit 
 
 Nympha phalanges. 
 
 Hei mihi, quanta comitante caede 
 Instat, ultrici metuenda dextra ! 
 Quanta parcarum anguitenens Enyo 
 Fila fatigat ! 
 
 Militi Hispano redit ira, postquam 
 Viderat nullo trepidam pavore ! 
 Hanc, ^upinorum pede proterentem 
 Pectora Galium. 
 
 Qualis e magno Jove nata Pallas, 
 Martis in cunctum facinus parata 
 Constitit, fulgens pletate ct armis, 
 Clara virago. 
 
 G 
 
98 VIRGO SARAGOSSiE. 
 
 Robur, et virtus animosa cingunt : 
 Sed, puellari micat ilia vultu 
 Frseditai et salva speciosa mamma, A- 
 mazone major. 
 
 AD GRATIOLAM. 
 EPIGRAMMA. 
 
 PuLCHRA es, Gratiola, et docta modestaque prodis, 
 Pulchra, ut te nequeat pulchrior ire Venus : 
 
 Docta, ut te nequeat doctissinia vincere Pallas, 
 Tamque modesta, ut iion Delia diva magis. 
 
 Ter fortunatus, cui tu sponsaberis uxor, 
 Nam simul huic dabitur tres tetigisse Deas. 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. 
 
SODALIBUS 
 Perouam CARIS, 
 
 GEORGIO MAW ET GULIELMO FERRIAR, 
 
 Armigeris, 
 
 IN OMNI GENERE LITTERARUM 
 
 NON IMBUTIS SOLUM, 
 
 SED 
 
 POiNE PERFECTIS, 
 
 HJECCE TENTAMINA METRICA 
 
 VOVET 
 
 AUCTOR. 
 
[101) 
 
 CARMEN AQUATICUM. 
 
 The chorus first couUl Allan know, 
 Roderigh Vich-Alpine, ho, iro ! 
 And near, and nearer as Ihcy rowed 
 Distinct, the martial ditty flowed. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 L 
 
 Salus victricem coronam gerenti, 
 
 Dent PiNUM beatam virescere Di I 
 Arbor in ejus vexillo trementi 
 Propria longum nos protcgat vi ! 
 Coeli dent rorcs, 
 Et tellus humores, 
 
102 TENTAMINA METRICA. 
 
 Ut pulchra et patula stet in agro ; 
 
 Dum Echo per fracta 
 
 Remugiat saxa, 
 Niger Alpibus orte, Rodrighe, io ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Non frutex fortuitus noster ad fontem, 
 Florens sestate, marcescens bruma : 
 Cum foliis turbo nudaverit montem, 
 Plus, plus exultabit Alpinus umbra ! 
 
 Immotus, ut ilex, 
 
 Quam roborat silex, 
 Ridet, quo durius flat aquil5 : 
 
 Clamantque Bredaanus 
 
 Et Mentethaanus, 
 Niger Alpibus orte, Rodrighe, io ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Sonuimus tubam per valles Fruinoe, 
 Et martia Bannochas terruit vox ! 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. 105 
 
 Lussae, Rossaeque, traduntur ruinae, 
 t Locholomondias possidet nox ! 
 
 Diu querentur, vae ! 
 
 Virgines, vidueey 
 Pucis ad nomen, pallente labr5 : 
 
 Lenox et Len-specus 
 
 Trepidant baud secus, 
 Niger Alpibus orte, Rodrighe, io I 
 
 IV. 
 
 Heus, o Satellites, heus, remigate ! 
 Intendite remis, pro Pinu vestra I 
 
 Hanc ditans oduribus insulam late, 
 Ut Illius halct in sinu Rosa I 
 Stemmate surculus 
 Ut quis tenellulus 
 
 Crescat, insignis, augentc ramo : 
 Daremus majore 
 Triumpho, clamore, 
 
 Niger Alpibus orte, Rodrighe, io ! 
 
[ 104 ] 
 
 CHANT AQUATIQUE, 
 
 Each boatman, bending to his oar. 
 With measured sweep the burthen bore, 
 In such wild cadence, as tlie breeze 
 Makes through December's leafless trees. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 I. 
 
 Salut au Chef dans le triomphe s'avangant, 
 Gloire soit au Pin, qui a jamais verdoye ! 
 Que I'arbre longtems, dans ses drapeaux s'elangant, 
 Son abri et grace sur nos maisons deploye ! 
 Que les rosees des airs, 
 Et les sues de la terre. 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. }05 
 
 La fassent bien bourgeonner, et tendre en haut ; 
 
 Chaque montagnard antre 
 
 Eclatant du centre, 
 Fils de I'Alpin, brim Roderic, ho, iero ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Point de plant, qui se trouve sur le lac, ou a I'oree, 
 
 Pour fletrir en hiver, ct fleurir en Mai ! 
 Quand le vent de ses feuilles aura pillc la foret, 
 Clan-Alpin le plus dans son ombre s'cgaie ! 
 
 A I'epreuve du fracas 
 
 II ecoute Jeur tracas, 
 Et brave de son rocher les vents et Ics eaux j 
 
 Et Bredalbain, et Menteis 
 
 En eclats retentissent, 
 Fils de I'Alpin, brun Rodgric, ho, icro I 
 
 III. 
 
 Le chant de nos clairons a trouble Val-Fruine, 
 Et Bannoc rcpondit en dcuil a nos cors ! 
 
106 TENTAMINA METRICA. 
 
 Glen-Lusse et Ross-dliu sont des mongeaux de 
 ruines, 
 Et les chefs de Lochlomonde ont jonche ses bords! 
 Mere, pucelle, et veuve 
 Ont pleure a fleuve, 
 Le nom de Clan-Alpin leur blanchit la peau : 
 Tu fais Lenox tressaillir, 
 Et le Leven defaillir, 
 Fils de r Alpin, brun Roderic, ho, iero ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ramez, Serfs, ramez, redoublez vos essais, 
 
 A vos rames, pour le Pin qui a jamais verdoye ! 
 Oh ! si la Rose de ces isles serait tressee 
 
 Autour de ses crins, dans un fleuron de joie ! 
 
 Si quelque rejeton, digne 
 
 D'une si glorieuse ligne, 
 Sous leur ombre s*accroissoit, bien-aimc et beau : 
 
 Que nos choeurs de leurs centres 
 
 Feroient sonner les antres, 
 Fils de TAlpin, brun Roderic, ho, iero ! 
 
[ 107] 
 
 LALLUS FITZ-JACOBI. 
 
 She Bung, and still a harp, unseen, 
 nUed up the 8jmj)hony between. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 I. 
 
 Carpe requiem, bellator, 
 
 Requiem continuatam : 
 Hie non, belli somniator, 
 
 Cernes pugnam galeatara ! 
 Lara magico, fideles 
 
 Inaspectae famulantur : 
 Barbitos, et maga chelys 
 
 Somnum tibi modulantur. 
 Carpe requiem, bellator, 
 Hie non, belli somniator, 
 Sub eadivos lucis rores 
 Excitaberc ad labores- 
 
103 TENTAMINA METRICA. 
 
 II. 
 
 Non armorum sentietur 
 
 Clangor, bijugusve frendens: 
 Nee ad buxos audietur 
 
 Miles graviter descendens. 
 Sed alaudae, pipiantes 
 
 Matutinum modulamen, 
 Ardeaeque clamitantes 
 
 Sonent pastorale flamen ! 
 Absunt soni graviores, 
 Hie non custos servat fores ; 
 Absunt bijuges lupati, 
 Ac frendentes gladiati. 
 
 III. 
 
 Requlescito, venator, 
 
 Sub lethea cantione ; 
 Non turbandus somniator 
 
 Crastina venatione. 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. 109 
 
 Dormi ! cervus est in strato, 
 
 Dormi ! juxta cubant canes : 
 Dormi ! sed ne somniato 
 
 Ut petivit equus manes ! 
 RequiescitOi venator. 
 Sole novo nee turbator : 
 Hie, clangentes aeris flatus 
 Nunquam cient ad venatus. 
 
[110] 
 
 LAMENTUM ALLAN-BANI. 
 
 Old Allan-Bane looked on aghast, 
 As grim and still his spirit past ; 
 But, when he saw that life was fled, 
 He poured his wailing o'er the dead. 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 I. 
 
 Ergo ad Taenarium sterneris ostium, 
 Clanni dux opifer, sed metus hostium, 
 Vis Bredalbanium maxima postiura ! 
 Infletusque feri regna petes Dei, 
 O robur valid um Bothveliae rei, 
 Et pulsae e foribus praesidium spei ? 
 At qua, Magne, jaces non sine gloria, 
 Mcerens, projiciam munera florea, 
 Heu, heu decidua Pinus adorea ! 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. Ill 
 
 II. 
 
 Quantum frugifera valle ululabitur, 
 Quanto cum gemitu mons agitabitur, 
 Dum gutta ex oculis fervida labitur ; 
 Extinctumque manus Te lachrymant pias, 
 Raptasque exuvias, dum medio die 
 ^qualis rapidae Sol inerat viae ! 
 Tu cordi sociis vix fueras secus, 
 Ut pro te peterent Taenarium specus, 
 Heu, PiNi ante diem deciduum decus ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Tristis vita tibi, sorsque precaria : 
 Mirantur morulas captse aviaria j 
 Morti vulturio sunt laquearia. 
 At ne, jJagne, precor, ne modulamina> 
 Aut parvae Chelyos despice stamina j 
 Ad cujus miserans proxima flamina, 
 Olim avcrsa tuis virgo caloribus 
 Turbabit tepidis lumina roribus, 
 IIcu, hcu deciduis Pinus honoribus ! 
 
[ 11^ 
 
 EPITHALAMIUM EDITHiE. 
 FRAGMENTUM. 
 
 Lulled were the waves on Inninniore, 
 And green Loch-Alline's woodland shore ; 
 As if wild woods and waves had pleasure 
 In listing to tiie lovely measure ! 
 
 Walter Scott. 
 
 Virgo Lornias, experge ! 
 Lorn IAS, exclamant surge 
 Ad concentum cithararum, 
 Somnum nolumus pulchrarum ! 
 Terra, pontus, aer prodit 
 Nil, quod modularaen odit. 
 
 Dama Lettamoris, miris 
 Amat barbiton audire ; 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. 113 
 
 Phoca gaudet per Heiskari 
 Fluctus musicen sectari ; 
 Audit leporis oblitus 
 Ales Callachi tinnitus. 
 
 Ut ne dedignetur, ergo, 
 Fidibus vocarl virgo : 
 Dum cantamus, tenict orna, 
 Et prodi, Editha de Lorna ! 
 
[114] 
 
 PERISCELIS. 
 
 Honi soit, qui mal y pense ! 
 
 Motto of the Garteb. 
 
 I. 
 
 Ut Neream certus, olim, 
 Vidit soporatam jure ; 
 
 Traxit nominare nolim- 
 Periscelidem de crure ! 
 
 At experrecta, flevit se 
 
 Orbatam Pebiscelide. 
 
 II. 
 
 Coma scinditur decora, 
 Palmis pectora caeduntur; 
 
 Et per genas, et per ora 
 Lachryma2 oboriuntur : 
 
TENTAMINA METRICA. 115 
 
 Et heU) et hoi, et hei, et has. 
 Pro rapta Periscelide ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Ah ! quid instas ungue faedo ? 
 
 Parce vultui, Nerea ; 
 Habeat, servetque praedo. 
 
 Quae sic abstulit, trophaea : 
 Nam dabit, quod rependet te 
 Pro rapta Periscelide ! 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Printed by (ieorgc Ramsay & Co. 
 

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