1*47 / /o^x^y AND OTHER POEMS, BY CHARLES KIRKPATRICK SHARPE, Esa. ',' " ' ' OXFORD, SOLD BY J. PARKER J AND BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, LONDON. 1807. . Collingwood, Printer, OxfordT TO MISS CAMPBELL, OF MONZIE, THE FOLLOWING POEMS BY HER AFFECTIONATE COUSIN AND HUMBLE SERVANT, C. KIRKPATRICK SHARPE. HODDAM CASTLE, AW. 4, 1807. THE Quante mormoro mai profane note Teflala Maga con la bocca immonda : Cio, chc arreftar pud le celefti rote, E 1'ombre trar della prigion profonda, Sapea ben tutto ; e pur oprar non ,puote, Che almen 1'inferno al fuo parlar rifponda. TASSO, Canto 16. Y E Guefts, who grace this lofty hall In helmet (been, or broider'd caul, Quaffing the generous wine From cups of gold and filver bright, That fparkle in the taper's light, Oh, lift this lay of mine ! Ye Dames, who braid your amber hair With (hrewd device, the heart to fnare, Oh, lend an ear to me ! ' Ceafe for a time to fmile or fpeak, And on each white hand lean your cheek j I ling of witchery. And (hould, as difmal drains arife, Soft forrow dim thofe vivid eyes, That 'maze the aching view ; And fweet tears mingle with the wine, Thefe youths fhall tafte a ftronger brine, Than Circe e'er could brew. Ye Knights, in ftately manhood's pride, True as the fteel that decks your fide, To woo awhile forbear ! I chaunt a Lord of fame and might, Who well as any here could fight, Albeit of prowefs rare. But lift for now begins the tale. Down in a dark and dreary dale A Lady once did dwell Full of bad years but proud and rich, Bold in her deeds a wicked witch, Who dealt with fprites of hell. The Lady Glammis j yea, ancient Joan, The Baron of Northberwick's crone, To her were witches white : One only daughter, fweet of face, Yet void of every inward grace, Compos'd her prime delight. This little maid, as foon as born, Had all her filky trefies fhorn, And buried 'neath a tree, The afpen light from whence refin'd Her trembling notes could lull the mind To fainting ecftafy. B 2, 4 The witch with fpells forbad the fun To fix his dufky kifles on Her fpotlefs brow or chin : Forbad with potent charms the air, When fporting with her raven hair, To parch her fnowy fkin. But ftill, though lovelier than the light, Sometimes a dark unufual night Would long her beauties hide : When anger (hook the furious maid, Her cheek and lips were quick decay 'd, For all her rofes died. Her brow ferene would knit and fcowl, Her voice in harftmefs ape the owl, That haunts the midnight air ; Till, paffion's temped overblown, Again th* ^Eolian harp's foft tone Would figh "The weather's fair." 5 Oft at the hour of darknefs dread, When ftars a feeble radiance fhed, The Dame forfook her towers, And taught the virgin's hands to cull Rank herbs of magic virtue full, With fair but fatal flowers. Early her coral lips could move To call the cloud fprites from above, The demons from below. Too foon, alone her voice could fwell The wild note of the witches fpell, With defcant ftrange and flow. Oft lurking nigh the fluggifli ftream She watch'd to hear the Kelpie fcream, And wil'd him from the wave : Oft danc'd (he with the Fairy queen In fome thick grove, or meadow green, Or cool fequefter'd cave. B 3 6 Swift-footed as the fwallow's flight, She'd chafe the fiend that glimmers bright To work the traveller woe And catch him while amid the race Her large eyes fparkling in her face Like (hooting ftars would glow. *Twas night the damfel took her (land, All fearlefs, on the level fand That ftretch'd along the (hore : There Rhunic characters (he trac'd, There circles interfering pac'd In time to ocean's roar. And hufhing foftly to her will, The wild waves (lumber'd, murm'ring (till O'er many a twifted (hell, While chaunting low the powerful rhyme, She charg'd the tardy fiends to climb The deep afcent of hell. 7 " They come not- all my efforts fail " Sure mountain a(h trees fcent the gale- " But no the charm is true " A figure from the hill defcends, Ah, how unlike the form of fiends Full foon the damfel knew. Of fattin white his veft is made, With twifted filver overlaid, And fcarlet are his hofe ; White his (hort boots his fpurs of gold Around his bonnet, towering bold, The fwarthy plumage flows. His locks in fair luxuriance grow Of high command his ample brow With polifli'd marble vies ; And waving veins appear to guide, Meand'ring pure, an azure tide To fparkle in his eyes. B4 8 Thofe eyes of blue, that foftly roll, Soon mov'd the witching maiden's foul With joy till then unknown : He fpoke fhort grew her panting breath- He fmil'd Ah, hide thofe pearly teeth ; The damfel's heart is gone. (e While feafting in a diftant tower " I heeded not the fleeting hour, " That bad the guefts depart ; " And in the windings of the coaft, " Fair maid, my lonely way is loft" Thought (lie " 'Tis like my heart." t( Sure thou'rt no daughter of the wave, " But form'd the wanderer's life to fave," He faid, and feiz'd her hands : " Can ft thou forfake the breezy tide, " Canft thou my erring footfteps guide " To where my Caftle ftands ? 9 " Earl William, damfel, is my name " My fires have won immortal fame, " Where warlike banners fly : " And late my father's honoured fprite " Took from this earthy round its flight, " To triumph in the Iky." Then well the fair Enchantrefs knows, At whofe warm touch her foft palm glows, Of magic power beguil'd : Who gazes on her downcaft face, Where, (haded by the jetty trefs, Move eyes of radiance wild. Much did the wond'ring Earl admire Her beauty, grac'd with rich attire, A gown of fattin red ; A mantle fmall of ermine white, And diamonds, fcatt'ring varied light, Around her neck and head. 10 Long mute fhe flood but fweet and clear At length her voice pervades his ear She woos him to her tower ; Hard by, fhe faith, her mother dwells His path is dreary 'crofs the fells, And rifing ftorm- clouds low'r. Ah ! fore the heav'ns did frown on thee, Young Earl, when near the moon -gilt fea Thou met'ft this fmiling ruin : Ah ! few words did fhe need, I trow, To lure thee, led by love, to go With her to thy undoing. The woods were thick, the brake obfcure, The damfel's footing infecure, The youth muft help provide ; Oft on his foot fhe gently trod, Or chid the roughnefs of the road, Then leant againft his fide. 11 And clofely to his arm fhe clung, . And whifper'd foft or wildly fung A foul-diflblving lay : She felt his heart tumultuous beat, She knew her conqueft all complete Ere ending of their way. In lofty hall of fretted ftone They found the matron witch alone, A folio in her hand, With golden clafps, and pi&ures rare Of every fprite that flies in air, Or glides upon the land.. She clos'd the parchment book in hade, And quick the marble pavement pac'd The ftranger Earl to greet ; Her fable velvet fwept behind, While all around the flowers of Inde Exhal'd their odours fweet. 12 " Welcome," fhe cried ; " thy mien proclaims " A bloflbm from the nobleft ftems, tc Thrice welcome, youth, to me \ " Sure in thofe features plain I trace " The beauties boafted by a race " Of worth and high degree." Then did the crafty maid recite The paft adventures of the night, With feeming artlefs truth ; How in the moonfhine wand'ring on, Led by the murm'ring wave, alone She met the noble youth. Oft in the progrefs of the tale Her mother's cheek was flufh'd and pale, From mingling joy and dread ; For much fhe hop'd the Earl to fnare, But knew his troth was plight elfewhere, His heart another's meed. 13 Meantime fix pages, light and gay As finches fmall in month of May, All clad in filken fuits, Serv'd up on gold the fumptuous feaft ; Rare fowls, with coftly fauces dreft, And renovating roots. The dame, refolv'd to venture all, Sits penfive in the lofty hall ; Not fo her lively gueft : The wine in fparkling plenty flows, And aids the genial ftream that glows Within his generous breaft. And dill from curtain'd gallery rung Harps by immortal fingers ftrung Then breath'd the mellow flute ; Which ceas'd a voice beyond compare Outwarbled thoufand larks in air, With blending of the lute. 14 That firft, in trembling prelude fleet, Seem'd in the clouds to make retreat, Until the voice arofe, Which, fwifter far, with mazy flight, SwelPd to the fummit of delight, Then funk with fighing clofe. And ftill the burden of the fong Was, " Merry Spring ne'er lafteth long, " Blythe Summer fpeeds away ! Of prefent blifs, O, take thy fill, The falfe dame fudden illnefs pled, And from the hall withdrew The Earl and virgin left alone > Ah, bitterly what then was done ' ' $! They both had caufe to rue. 15 The rifing fun had fcarcely (hed O'er hill and tow'r a blufliing red, Tinting the damfePs cheek With modefty's unwonted dye, When from the hall the Earl muft hye, His own abode to feek. Much did the ladies prefs his ftay With foothing prayer he would away ; Their blandimments are vain : And weak the wicked charms they tried To raife his lemman to his bride ; He ne'er return'd again. He ne'er return'd for fpells have power To wake the paffion of an hour, Which flames to lawlefs end ; But ah ! no hellifh arts infpire Thofe fparks refin'd of heav'nly fire, That to God's altar bend. 16 A purer maid's unconfcious fmile Had early wove the filken toil, Which fix'd the willing prey : The guardians too had giv'n confent, But ftill five twelvemonths muft be fpent Before the bridal day. How pafs the youthful pair their time ? In fweet joys fwelling to the prime, In hope undafh'd by fears : While in the witch's lonely hall Grief and defpair for vengeance call, 'Mid ceafelefs fighs and tears. The matron, fkill'd to wreak her fpleen, Roll'd cakes of wax her hands between, Before a charmed fire, And fought her daughter's aid to frame The well known fhape, and give the name Of her young baby's fire. 17 For in her arms reclin'd a boy, That fweetly fmil'd with recklefs joy, His littJe hand difplaying Now to the bright gem in her ear, Now to the folitary tear, That o'er her cheek was ftraying. Him oft, with many a fond carefs, His mother to her bread would prefs, Then hide him from her view j For foft his little eye-balls gleam'd, And all fo like his fire he feem'd, She'd hate and love him too. No holy man of wholefome pray'r Thefe dames had calPd in pious care, The infant to baptize ; Though God's bleft dew ne'er touch'd his face, This loft flow'r bloom'd with lovely grace, Till fcorch'd in cruel guife. 18 " Come, daughter, vengeance fpurns delay, " Soon (hall thy falfe one end his day, " Firfl doom'd, like us, to pine ; Sf Behold the wax I've done my part, " Come, thruft a pin through that bafe heart, " Which planted thorns in thine !" The babe on fwelling cufhions laid ; With trembling hand diftreft difmay'd The damfel 'gan to ply The yielding mafs and to the flame She held it clofe ; then William's name Was whifper'd in a figh. A golden bodkin from her hair She fnatch'd, when o'er her fhoulders bare Her ftreaming ringlets fell Deep, deep the image did fhe pierce, While the old forc'refs grinning fierce Sent forth a joyous yell. 19 Still heaping up the crackling fire, To which with flow gradation nigher The fatal (hape (he turn'd ; Till yielding to the pow'rful heat The clammy wax began to fweat On brands that neareft burn'd. " Now cold drops bathe Lord William's face, " Now aches that heart fo hard and bafe, " He faints by flow degrees ; " No bridal veils thofe damps remove, " No preflures foft from palms of love " Afford that bofom eafe." The witch this vaunting fcarce began, When from the flame her vifage wan The damfel turn'd away, Mov'd or by pity, or the blaze, But lo her melancholy gaze Fix'd where the infant lay. C 2 20 Who, ftartled by the huge fire's found, Lurk'd 'mid green cufhions fwelling round, Half pleas' d and half afraid j Fair as the valley's timid flower, Or violet, that loves to cower Beneath its leafy (hade. f< Ah me, fair child thofe eyes thofe eyes. " Perhaps e'en now thy father dies " She fcream'd with furious hafte The bodkin from the bofom drew, Then on the floor the image threw, And all its form defac'd. Away five tedious twelvemonths glide, And William waits his lovely bride ; She that from yonder ifle Muft o'er the faithlefs ocean fail : " Breathe gently frefli, thou weftern gale, " Ye dimpling billows, fmile !" 21 Thus fpoke the Earl forgetful quite Of one who forrow'd day and night, Mingling with tears her food ; Who proftrate on the pavement lay, Curfing aloud the nuptial day, And man's ingratitude. When hufh the folding door expands, And near her drooping daughter ftands The dame and by her fide A ftranger, of majeftic air, Whofe huge black beaver, flouch'd with care. Doth all his vifage hide. Saving his chin deform'd with fears, And bridling dread with matted hairs, As black as fun'ral pall His mantle long was fombre grey, And at his breath died quick away The flow'rs that deck'd the hall. 22 For cold it fteam'd, with frequent figh, Chill as the damps that linger nigh The dead pool's weedy brink : The damfel's ringlets wavelefs hung, Whence dropping, to her robe it clung With ftains like blacked ink. " Cheer up, cheer up," the matron cries, " From off the marble pavement rife, " Behold a comfort here ! " One I have long and clofely known, " Who only to his friends is ftiown " When griefs are moft fevere. " To morrow eve thy rival fails " Far from her native hills and vales, " To meet her falfe bridegroom : " Yet by this ftranger's potent aid, " In Ocean's arms the wifliing maid " Shall find a colder doom. 23 " His are the blafts with howling fweep, " That fwell the bofom of the deep, " To whelm the veflel finking : " But what he wills to do for thee " Muft mark me well rewarded be " Beyond thy pow'rs of thinking." She darted up " O ftranger, fay, " Can aught thy precious aid repay, " If this great work be done ?" He anfwer'd, with a ghoftly found, Like echo from a cave profound, " Thy unbaptized fon." Cold fliiv'rings feiz'd the damfel's frame, Sick, lick her flutt'ring heart became In fudden hope's decay : Again (he on the pavement fell, But faw the dreadful foot of hell Beneath the mantle grey. 04 24 Keen malice with maternal love Long in her panting bofom ftrove ; " O fpare my little treafure, " And aught befide thou canft demand, " Shall be, ftern pow'r, at thy command " Paid with mod grateful pleafure !" " E'en my own corpfe, the fpirit gone, " Shall, limbs and body flefh and bone " Thy hungry demons feed." Again the voice with hideous hum Mutter'd " Vain woman, or be dumb, " Or grant my only meed." Long does the antient witch advife, And paflion loud for vengeance cries. At laft 'mid flooding tears " Thine he (hall be, my rival dead" She faid and nodding thrice his head The demon difappears. 25 The fea breeze with the white foam fporting, The waves the veflel's gay fide courting, And round the pebbles playing The filken fail in ruftling pride, All feem'd to whifper to the bride, " Come, come, no more delaying !" Her damfels walking quick before, At eve (he fought the fandy more, Where long the barge had waited ; And, mantled in her milk-white veil, Bad all the boatmen crowd the fail, Left me mould be belated. Full merrily they cut the foam But now, the dread hour almoft come, The witch began to quail : She drew her baby to her heart, And oft would turn her head, and ftart, As moan'd the fighing gale. 26 The fea- birds now forfake the fhore, The lurid fky threats more and more, And hollow found the waves, Ridging fo green with fnow-white fpray, As if all fafhion'd to pourtray Sad flirowds and fwelling graves. " Sweet mother, to the turret hye, " And o'er the bleak fands bend thine eye ! (( Methinks the ftorm's begun : 11 To pay thofe bitter drops of mine " Soon {hall my rival drink the brine ; " But ah my fon, my fon ! " What fee' ft thou there, dear mother, fay ?" " A veflel gaily make its way " In hafte, as if it flew j . " And in it I can well difcern " A lady, feated at the ftern, " As fair as white fea mew." 27 " Perifh that fatal fair," fhe cried, When higher rofe the boift'rous tide, And louder louder grew The bellowing wind and frequent came, With forked flafh, fulphureous flame Of ghaftly pallid blue. While fea and air refounded wild, Still clofer did (he clafp her child, In paffion's fierce extremes ; Oft view'd his face with eager look, Then with convulfive laughter (hook, That funk in tearful fcreams. And " babe/' fhe faid, " my rival's loft " But dearly doth my triumph coft, " Ah, loud the billows roar " Good mother, what doft now defcry ?"- " The veflel on its broadfide lie " It finks the coil is o'er." 28 a Joy, joy," the damfel wildly raves, " She ftruggles 'mid the raging waves, " And William cannot aid. " But darling child ah, cruel meed ! " Yet may'ft thou ftill from hell be freed, " The wicked one betray'd. " For baptifm, though from hands profane, " May heav'n's prevailing help obtain " Be water brought with fpeed ! " Ye blefied faints, my efforts crown " Ye holy angels, look ad own " On this unwonted deed ! " What fiend of night dare fnatch away " A vaflal of the God of day, " That may to heav'n afpire ? " No, thou fhalt bloom in Eden's bowers, " And thou fhalt tafte immortal fhowers, " In place of with'ring fire." 29 Then did the tardy mother bring A portion of the cryftal fpring Within a golden bowl ; Ah ! fcarce the damfel's hand attain'd The brim, when water none remain'd, 'Twas blood, all clotted foul. An earthquake (hook the yawning ground Again (he clafp'd her baby round, And tried in vain to pray For aid when through the portal came, 'Mid pois'nous fmoke and glimm'ring flame, The Fiend with mantle grey. With gefture fierce, and fearful voice, " Give me my due," he thunder'd thrice, Then wrapp'd his garment dire Around the boy and growling fled j Leaving a trace of bloody red, With marks of curfed fire. 30 Now night and all its tempefts o'er ; A lady lies on yonder fhore, Stiff, ftiff in each foft limb The wind hath ftol'n her wedding veil, And oh, her cold fwoln cheek is pale, Her ftarting eye -balls dim ! The fcreaming crows at diftance fly ; No hungry wolf approaches nigh, To fnuff his dread repaft For two gaunt maftiffs feize the prey, Tearing the tender flefh away, And eat with furious hafte. Thofe are the witching ladies fell, Transform'd by ointments wrought in hell, To wreck their malice vile Farewel farewel thy pains are o'er Peace to thy foul for evermore, Pale beauty of the ifle U ! NOTES THE FIEND WITH MANTLE GREY. Page 3. line 7. The Lady Glammis ; jrea, ancient Joati, J. HE Lady Glammis's witchcrafts are recorded in hiftory, and were fo atrocious, (though her family had never much reafon to re- nounce the arm of flefh for the metaphyfical affiftance of fpirits,) that fhe was burnt to afhes on the Caftle-hill of Edinburgh. Dam Joan's pranks are not of equal notoriety ; but although fhe has coft me, when young, many a night's reft, I fhall let her bones re- pofe in peace in the Kirk of Northberwick. Lucky is it for Joan, that no fupplement to Satan's Invifible Word is likely foon to ap- pear, the race of good Mr. George Sinclare being no more tern- fora mutantur our Scotch Profeflbrs are not now fo credulous as formerly. Page 3. line 13. This little maid, as foon as born, &c, &c. In fome parts of Scotland this charm is full prevalent, though now and then not very fuccefsful. The quivering properties of the tree afford Shakefpeare a beautiful limile in Titus Andronicus : O had the monfter feen thofe lily hands Tremble, like a/pen leaves, upon a lute, 32 And make the filken firings delight to kifs them,- He would not then have touch'd them for his life. Page 5. line 14. Kelpie] The water Demon. Page 18. line it. Then tViUlam's name toas mhijper'd in ajigh. It was cuftomary for the witches, while reading their viftims, to pronounce their names. Thus in the confeffions of the women tried at Paifley, Feb. 15, 1678. for bewitching Sir George Maxwell, (who was a hypochondriac fool,) Annabel Stuart declares, that " She was prefent in her mother's houfe when the effigies of war " was made, and that it was made to reprefent Sir George Max- " well: that the black man," (i. e. the devil,) " Janet Mathie, the " declarant's mother, whofe fpirit's name was Land lady ; Beffie " Weir, whofe fpirit's name is Sopha ; Margaret Craige, whofe " fpirit's name is Rigerum ; and Margaret Jackfon, whofe fpirit's " name is Locas, were all prefent at the making of the faid effi- " gies ; and that they bound it on a fpU, and turned it before the " fire; and that it was turned by Beffie Weir, faying as they turned " it, Sir George Maxwell, Sir George Maxwell ; and that this was " expreffed by all of them, and by the declarant." It is worthy of remark, that on thefe occafions the Scotch witches were much more elegant in their expreffions than their fillers of England, whofe imprecations of evil, if Mr. Glanvill is to be trufted, were exceed- ingly coarfe and indelicate nay, Ann Bifhop, the devil's favourite Sultana, was not a whit more refined than her neighbours ; as ap- pears by the confeffion of Alice Duke, taken A. D. 1664, before Robert Hunt, Efq. Indeed the faid Alice feems to have been jealous of Ann's fuperiority, remembering the very drefs that fhe wore at their meetings, and which I mall here fet down for the benefit of the fair fex a green apron, a French waiftcoat, and a red petti- coat. N. B. Ann Bifhop ufually fat next the devil at his feftt- vals. 33 Page 23. line 10. He anfwer'J, -with a ghoftly found, Like echo from a cave profound. The devil feldorn fpeaks loud in Scotland ; his voice is generally " hough and gouftie" hollow and ghoftly and he is cold in the extreme : a witch confeffed, that when fhe had renounced her baptifm, the foul thief performed the ceremony anew after his own fafhion ; " with ane waff of his hand, like the dewing." Page 23. line 17. But fa-w the dreadful foot of hell Beneath the mantle grey. It is to be remembered, that Satan, however he may conceal his other attributes of tail and horn, can by no means contrive to hide his cloven hoof; which is a great inconvenience to him, as people are thereby too foon put upon their guard againft his infidious ad- drefies. LORD CLIFFORD'S SONG FAIR JULIAN. " The fatd Roger (Lord Clifford) was fummoned to Parliament, arm. 13 and 14 Edw. II. and died unmarried, but left behind him fome illegitimate children, which he had by a mean woman, called Julian of the Bower, for whom he built a fmall houfe near Whinfield, (in Kendal divifion in Weftmoreland,) calling it after her name, Julian Bower." COLLINS, Vol. VI. p. 430. I. I'LL doff my arms, I'll feize the lute, For Love dire&s the hour Nor ftrields, nor fwords, nor harnefs fuit Soft Julian of the Bower. II. In yon lone glen, far, far from ken, Her humble dwelling ftands ; 35 More dear that lee and bower to me, Than Broom a and all its lands. III. Tho' Skipton's painted roofs are high, With many a gorgeous tower ; Give me the eve, the ftarry fky, And Julian of the Bower ! IV. 'Twas bathing firft (he bleft mine eyes ; The moon did mildly beam A face above the wave did rife Like lily of the ftream* V. I faw her wring her trefles long, And bind them round her brow j I heard her ting her vefper fong, And breathe her vefper vow. a Brougham (pronounced Broom) Caftle, together with Skipton, Appleby, &c. &c. was long in the poffeffion of the Clifford family. 36 VI. Her wild notes fwelling on the air Were fweeter, void of art : And when fhe bound her ringlets fair, She bound for aye my heart. VII. What tho* no robes that lure the fight Affift her beauty's power j The ruflet fhows like purple bright On Julian of the Bower. VIII. Tho' fprung from (hepherd's humble race, Nor gilt with golden dower ; No princefs hath a fairer face Than Julian of the Bower. IX. High dames will tofs the haughty head, Or look afkaunce and four Smiles ftain thy lips with frefher red, My Julian of the Bower. 37 X. When war-blood rains on Scottifh plains, Amid the battle ftoure, The thought of thee my ftrength fuftains, Sweet Julian of the Bower. XI. When at the tilt the Knights combine Their ladies' hearts to move, The well fought garland ftill is mine, For thee, my fecret love. XII. Safe blooms beneath the prickly thorn The primrofe gentle flower ! Ah, ne'er from me (halt thou be torn, Fair Julian of the Bower. XIII. While funs illume the fummer flcy, While clouds in winter low'r, For thee I'll fight, for thee I'll die, Dear Julian of the Bower. D 3 SIR HUGH. (1803.) Ea lapfa repente ruinam Cum fonitu trahit. JNEID. lit. ii. I. OlR Hugh rode forth one fummer eve To fmell the thorns in flower j And lo ! a dame he did perceive Sit by a ruin'd tower. II. Of beauty rare, her raven hair Did down her pale cheek flow ; And her eye fhone clear, as the fun will appear When he rifes o'er hills of fnow. 39 III. She wore a kell of black velvette, And a robe of velvette green j With a coftly veil of filver net, A fairer hath never been. IV. She touch'd a lute of ivory fmall, And fung with witching power, " The grafs grows in my father's hall, tf The thiftle in my mother's bower." V. A ftone of the wall was all her feat, The ivy hung round ^her head Sir Hugh drew in his courfer fleet, And thus to the lady he faid : VI. O Lady fair, why fit you there, Alone by the ruin'd wall ? The evening ftar fhines bright afar, And chill the damp dews fall. 04 40 VII. O, well I love this twilight hour, When all the world is mute ; And Echo from the lonely tower Sings fweetly to my lute. VIII. Alight, alight, thou gentle Knight, And let thy courfer rove, While I thine eager ears delight With lays of melting love. IX. For many a ditty do I know Of love that charm of youth, That pleating fource of weal and woe, Of falfehood and of truth. X. O Lady gay, I muft not ftay, Tho' thou'rt fo wondrous fair ; For much I fear thefe ruins drear, Where mournful ghofts repair. 41 XI. My fire that caftle overthrew, Deftroy'd the owner's name : His wife and daughter perinVd too Unpitied in the flame. XII. Sad fperes oft with difmal groans Glide ghaftly o'er the green j And through the crevice of the flones Pale rays of light are feen. XIII. And ftill, at midnight hour I've heard, Again the caftle burns j Tho' not one ivy leaf is fear'd When cheerful morn returns. XIV. Alight, alight, faint-hearted Knight, No ghoft thou need'ft to fear ; For I can quell the fiends of hell With carols loud and clear. 42 XV. O dame fans peer, I reft not here ; The daify drinks the dew ; E'en now the bat, to fpe&res dear, From yon dark turret flew. XVI. But hark the thru(h, in wild rofe bufh, Expe&ing home his mate O ftranger flay why this delay, When ladies bid you wait ? XVII. He fpurr'd his fteed fhe ftruck the lute, And fung fo loud and (brill, That Echo join'd in fweet purfuit From ev'ry tower and hill. XVIII. The dulcet founds, in evil hour, Arreft the warrior's way Ah ! who can conquer Mufic's pow'r When Beauty chaunts the lay ? 43 XIX. With lucklefs fpeed he left his fteed, And fat the Lady by ; The nightmade fhook in the Gothic nook, And the owl was heard to cry. XX. The nightfhade (hook in the Gothic nook At her chords of magic power With fatal weight, on the haplefs Knight Rufh'd down the craftring tower. XXI. Ere dawn of day, his courfer true Returned home again : And long they fought him, young Sir Hugh, But ftill they fought in vain. XXII. Where yonder mafs of ruin fpreads Its ftones of mighty fize, And wall-flowers wave their golden heads, The flumb'ring warrior lies : 44 XXIII. Ah, ne'er again on courfer fleet To wind his hunter's horn ; Ah, ne'er to fmell the breezes fweet Breathe through the flowering thorn. XXIV. And ftill they tell, at that lone place The female form is feen, With filver veil, and lovely face, And robe of velvette green. XXV. She ftrikes a lute of ivory fmall, And lings with Syren power ; " The grafs grows in my father's hall, " The thiflle in my mother's bower." STANZAS ADAPTED TO AN ANCIENT SCOTTISH AIR. I. man, condemn 'd to dye, allace, Whye doe you proudly vaunte The bloflbmes of a youthful face, And drearye wrinkles taunte ? Whye prize foe much that vifage faire, That brightlye beaming eye, Thofe waving locks of crifped haire, Oh man, condemn'd to dye ? II. Whye boafte thofe lion finews ftronge, That greyhound's graceful fpeed/ 46 Thofe fportes that fhine the fair amonge, And graver arts exceed ? Whye vaunte the fweetnefs of thy voice, Tho' forrow's lullabye, Or courtly phrafe's happy choice, Oh man, condemn'd to dye ? III. Whye glorye that in tuneful drains The ancient Bards you foil, Or vanquifti with triumphaunt pains The bookman's ceafelefs toil ; Roam through the wonders of the earth, The ocean, and the fky, Where thoufand prodigies have birth, Oh man, condemn'd to dye ? IV. The chillye Winter cometh faft, When colde fucceedeth heat, And cruel frofts will quicklye blaft That face foe pafling fweet ; 47 Thofe orbs that roll in liquid light Will freeze full dim and drye : Thofe curls untwin'd wex grey and white, Oh man, condemn'd to dye. V. Thofe members of gigantic molde Will quake like afpen pale ; And ah ! when feeble growne, and olde, What then doe fportes avail ? Thofe notes of heaven that witch'd the ear Pine to the cricket's crye ; And who can toothlefs talkers beare, Oh man, condemn'd to dye ? VI. Time plucks the quills from fancie's wing, And tames the poet's laye : Tho' flatterers ftill their tribute bring, Wee heede not what they faye ; The laud of learning lofes zeft, No longer rivals vie, 48 When mould'ring in a narrow cheft, Oh man, condemn'd to dye. VII. But Nature's works, through which in youthe With curious eye we range, Should teache the foul-appalling truth, That all at laft muft change The joy of Beauty, Genius, Lore In age muft ever flye, Allace ! how foon the charm is o'er, Since men are doom'd to dye ! FALSE LORD CARLEIL, AND THE FAIR LADY ALICE. " O degli huomini inferma, e inftabil mente ; " Come fiam prefti a varier di fegno. ARIOSTO. " Allace for luf, how mony themfelf do fpill. The Ei/hop of DunMd. I. J- HE lonely fir in yonder glen, Where never thrufli is heard to fing ; That plat, untrod by foot of men, Unmark'd by fairies' bly thefome ring ; Thofe wither'd leaves, from greenwood blown, That ruftle in the evening gale, And clufter round the mofs-clad ftone, Record a fad and dreary tale. 50 There long agone would blackbirds chaunt Their clear notes at the clofe of day ; And there the crimfon woodbine flaunt With rathe perfume and bright array $ And there the violet blue would fpread, With primrofe pale, the meadow's pride. But birds are mute, and flowers decay'd, Since all untimely Alice died. II. She died yet when by moonlight ftrays Near that black fir the fearful hind, A lady lingers there, he fays, With ringlets waving in the wind. Mild feem her looks, tho' much diftreft, While foft flie'll figh, but never fpeak One lily hand o'erftiades her breaft ; And (till the tear is on her cheek. III. That lady's fire at Flodden plain, Beholding danger's frown with fcoru, 51 'Mid all the flower of Scotland (lain, Left his fair dame and babe forlorn. His widow, defolate and poor, Dwelt in yon tower which yews furround ; 'Twas there her wounded heart a cure Of forrows paft in Alice found. For Alice at her mother's feet Would fit and fing the plaintive lay, With infant voice fo foft and fweet, " Our foreft flowers are wed away." And Alice oft would weep to fee Her parent's breaft with anguifh fwell ; And ftint the fong, and climb her knee, To catch the tear that trickling fell. Yea, bathed in tears this flow'ret fprung : Perchance more lovelinefs they gave; As Beauty, by the poets fung, Emerg'd from ocean's briny wave. E 2 52 IV. But now had fummers full fixteen In frefh robes deck'd the forefts gay, When Alice, in her mantle green, Was twice as fair and frefh as they. Her charms no gorgeous coifings aid, Wild rofes for her hair (he'd plait, Brief gems, that on the forehead fade, An emblem of the wearer's fate. The nobleft youths of Annandale For Alice broke the tilting fpear, Yet dill to love's unwelcome tale The lady lent a carelefs ear. Till falfe Sir Michael reach'd his prime : Tall as the mountain larch he grew, And fragrant as the dewy thyme That roving bees at dawn purfue. Well could he fpeak with winning grace, And fmooth exprefs the amorous thought, 53 Gilding with feigned fhame his face, That blufh'd the apple all to nought. Ah me, that e'er the poifonous worm Should coil below the heathbell fweet ; Ah me, that oft the faireft form Deceives the hope of virtues meet ! Full deadly is the dimpled cheek, The beamy eye, the flowing hair, The rofy lip, and forehead fleck, If falfehood's viper lurketh there. V. In yonder ruin'd chapel's bound He plighted everlafting truth ; In yonder lonely dell he found How credulous are love and youth. VI. But autumn winds began to blow, That change the green leaves all to brown ; No longer doth his falfe heart glow, He pleads a wrathful father's frown : 54 As if the fcowl of age could chill Thofe charming fires by youth careft, Freeze in the veins the boiling rill, Or chain the tumults of the breaft. No more he feeks the ivied tower, And Lady Alice 'gan to weep, To weep, and roam at midnight hour By moonlight near the rolling deep. Oft would (lie gaze the ftream upon, Reflecting clear the turrets grey, And count and envy every ftone That peaceful at the bottom lay ; Reclining ftill the penfive head, While dropt the chaplet from her brow ; For mirth and play, her fpirits fled, Were grief and pain to Alice now. But yet her lute at clofe of day She'd touch with woe-bewilder'd mien, And warbling greet pale Luna's ray With broken chords, and fighs between. 55 VII. Her parent, with a mother's grief, Full foon the fecret dire divin'd : But where finds poverty relief? What balm can flighted paffion find ? " Oh, Alice, write once more," fhe cried, " We'll try to melt this heart of done ; " To roufe his fears, alarm his pride j " Tho' few thy friends, tho' father none. " Woo him to meet thee in the dell " Where waving firs obftruft the view j " And there, for grief ftill pleadeth well, " Sir Michael yet his deeds may rue." Averfe, her mother's rafh command In evil moment Alice fair Obey'd, and fram'd with trembling hand Some lines of fondnefs and defpair. VIII. Morn's breezes with the ivy play Torthorald's lofty towers around, E4 56 When falfe Sir Michael took his way To hunter's joys with hawk and hound. He flood upon the moat's green edge, His dark hair curling in the gale j But foon appear'd the lady's page, And quick the hunter's cheek grew pale : Grew pale, tho' haughty fmiles he wore, And laugh'd, the feal's fond motto read ; But fcarce the fcanty lines glanc'd o'er, When e'en the mirth of fcorn was fled. Stern, fierce, and dreadful chang'd his look, While his fair brow in wrinkles frown'd j The tercell from his hand he fhook, And fpurn'd to earth the fawning hound. Yet fmooth'd his fpeeches to betray, " Boy, bid thy lady dear believe, " That I the fummons glad obey, " To meet her late to-morrow eve, " Where hanging woodbines thickly grow, " Around the mols-embroider'd ftone, 57 " And blufhing daifies fpring below ; " But (he muft meet me there alone." IX. Dim fet the fun behind the fell, And fighing winds foretold the mower ; Dark, dark, and difmal (how'd the dell, When Alice left the ivied tower. Long on the thremold did (he ftand, And weep of boding tears a ftream, Still clinging to her mother's hand, Till Hefper (hed a feeble beam. Then in her filken mantle green She crofs'd with hafty ftep the glade, While far her lovely locks were feen Long waving through the dreary made. X. With many a figh, and whifper'd prayer, Her mother fits in lonely tower, All penfive, by the oak- fire's glare, Till midnight's melancholy hour. 58 Then broke the moon through tempeft's cloud, And pierc'd the painted cafement bright, When mifts, as with a fun'ral fhroud, Cloath'd the blue hills in mournful white. " I hear her gentle footfteps fall, " I fee her floating ringlets gleam <( Alas, that ruftling ivied wall ! " Alas, that moon-be-filver'd ftream !" XL At length unclos'd the heavy door, On creaking hinges hoarfe and flow, And Alice glided 'crofs the floor, Pallid and cold as Criflel's fnow. The rain had drench'd her vifage fair, Her mantle green, and flowing veft j One lily hand retain'd her hair Collected o'er her lovely breaft ; The other wip'd her tearful eye, Fix'd fadly on her mother's face 59 " Oh, mild is death to them that figli, " Oh, pleafant now my refting-place f *' Heard' ft thou not (hrieks at twilight grey, " Faint rifing from the lonely dell ? " The birds fled trembling all away, " But thy beloved fongftrefs fell. " Pierc'd by the cruel lover's fteel " I lie beneath a weight of clay : " Yet none can guefs what murd'rers feel, " Though mountains on their bofoms lay. " The grafs is dyed of crimfon hue, " And black drops fpot the mofiy ftone ; " But morning fun and evening dew " Shall f'mile and weep till all be gone. " Nor fummer-beams that brighteft glow, " Nor dews that fall like April rain, " Can funfhine on his bofom throw, " Or cleanfe his blacken'd foul again. " When in Torthorald's lofty hall " He revels 'mid the barons brave, 6o " His mind fliall ftray, in fpite of all, " To glens where lonely fir-trees wave. " Whene'er he views a blooming maid, " In youth and beauty's wonders dreft, " To him her cheek (hall feem to fade, t( And life-blood tinge her fwelling breaft. " Tho' to his page he fhout amain, < Fill, fill the bowl till ftreaming o'er' " His quiv'ring lip rejects the ftain " Of aught refembling human gore. (f For Confcience to the murd'rer fpeaks " Tn all around, the wrath divine ; " In ladies' foftly-blufhing cheeks ; " In golden goblets crown'd with wine; w In mufic's tones, whole mighty power " Can almoft ftay the fleeting breath, " And cheer affliction's faddeft hour " To him the fighs and fl>r>eks of death. "The rack and wheel, with horrid rows " Of fpikes, that wound each aching bone, 6i 3 Page 51. line 10. Our foreft flowers are toed avaay, Vide the beautiful ballad called " The Flowers of the Foreft" in the Border Minftrelfy. Page 58. line 12. Pallid and cold as Crtffet 's fntna . Criffel is a lofty mountain in Dumfriesfhire. AN EPISTLE FROM THE SHADE OF THE COUNTESS OF ROXBURGH TO THE HON. MISS DRUMMOND, OF PERTH. Jean, daughter of Patrick Lord Drummond by Elizabeth, daugh- ter of Sir David Lindfay of Edzeil, afterwards Earl of Crawford, married Robert Earl of Roxburgh : fhe had the care of the chil- dren of King Charles I. and went with Princefs Marie into Hol- land, at the time of her marriage. Her picture was till lately in the garret at Drummond Caftle ; but is now, with fundry other valua- ble portraits of the fame ftamp, relieved from durance vile. MADAM, I. J- HO' poets ling, and fages fay, That every dog muft have his day, I held it but a joke : 65 For who that's wealthy, young, and fair, And buildeth caftles in the air, Can think thefe caftles fmoke ? II. Snow form'd rny fkin, fond lovers fwore, My cheek, the rofe from China's fhore, A planet bright, mine eye. It never came into my head That fnow will melt, and rofes fade, And mifts obfcure the fky. III. I caught an Earl, and held him faft, But, ah ! our pleal'ures never laft ; Some furrows 'gan to wrinkle Around my mouth, which wider grew, Around mine eyes of heav'nly blue, That did lefs clearly twinkle. IV. I ftill was little pad my prime, So, catching by the pig-tail Time, That caus'd thefe dire alarms, F 66 I to a famous limner went, Who might on canvafs reprefent My fweet, but fleeting charms. V. The pi&ure fairly hung on high, Each day, each hour, with gloating eye, I at its beauties gaz'd ; Thinking, " when great grand-nieces fee " This moft enchanting map of me, " They will be fo amaz'd ! VI. " When (looping fhoulders, poking chins, " Red frowzy hands, and freckled fkins, " Make careful mothers fcold, " They'll cry, ' Look up to yonder wall, ' Where Lady Jean fo ftraight and tall Her head doth ftately hold ! VII. ' Will clownifli, fun-burnt, flouching girls * E'er (bine like her, or marry Earls, ' Or live on canvafs ? No 67 ' She walk'd ere, with portly grace, ( Had not one freckle on her face, ' And hands like drifted fnow. VIII. ' On conqueft bent, fhe flew her man, ' Whene'er fhe wav'd that feather fan, f Or wore that plaited ruffle : ' The magic circle of her hoop ' Made half the Scottifli nobles ftoop, 1 To kifs her lac'd pantoufle." IX. Ah, hope how vain ! this portrait rare, Far from a model for the fair, When bent on peers efpoufing, Degraded from its ancient place, Serves in a garret dire difgrace ! To fcare the cats from moufing. X. Say, would it not thine anger move, (Though but fuccefslefs Lawrence ftrove, F 2 68 With pencil over-rafli,) To have thy picture, by thine heirs, Hoifted up fifty pair of flairs, 'Mid trunks and other trafh ? XI. Nor Job, the ancient Hebrew wonder, Nor (he, who never fpoke in thunder, Sweet Grizzle's felf, could bear it : Nay, worrying curs and bruins rough Have " ample verge, and room enough a ," While I am in the garret ! XII. But, fweet, beware ! You've heard it faid, That wrongs can roufe the peaceful dead ; And nurfes hold for certain, That ghofts in fhrouds of difmal hue, Bedeck'd with poifon- dropping yew, Can draw the midnight curtain : a Alluding to a hunting-piece in the dining room at Drummond Caftle. 69 XTII. While bridles up the wretch's hair, With faucer eyes they wildly flare, And grunt in hollow groan j Yea, as the rum-light glimmers blue, Speak fearful words, that pierce quite through A very heart of ftone. XIV. Now let this gentle hint fuffice, A word's fufficient to the wife I've made my meaning plain ; Nor fable priefts, nor the red fea, Nor Latin falfe fhall frighten me, And fo I your's remain, JEAN ROXBURGH. F 3 LINES SUGGESTED BY A PASSAGE IN OSBORNE'S LETTERS, P. 125. Edit. 1673. WHEN I am gone, no ftately vault (hall hold, With difmal vanity, my poor remains, To taint the healthful air ; nor fcutcheons bold Scare from my place of reft the linnet's ftrains. Oh no ! 'mid lowly flumb'rers of the plains, Let my green tomb with willow twigs be dreft, Where, peering frelh to April's fparkling rains, The primrofe fweet may fpring upon my breaft ; And thence fome lovely rural maid's adorn, Who crops, like lambkin mild, the flow'ret new, And dries with heart unchill'd its pearly dew, Within the houfe of prayer, on Sabbath's holy morn. TRANSLATION OP A FRENCH POEM, COMPOSED ON THE MURDER OF HENRI, DUKE OF GUISE. The originals of thefe verfes appeared to poflefs fome merit, be- ing " affez paffables pour le temps paffe," according to De Roflet, fo that I have effayed to put them into Englifh, omitting, however, feveral ftanzas which favour of tautology. They are printed in a very amufing book, written by the faid Frangois De Roffet, which he calls " Hiftoires Tragiques de noftre temps," full of marvellous adventures, producing ftill more marvellous commentaries. He has adapted a ftory of his own to thefe lines, which, he faith, " Je in- " fere ici, parce qu'il eft a propos, pour apprendre a beaucoup qur " les approprient a feu Monfieur de Guife,' qu'ils fe trompent " grandement." Henri le Balafre, Duke of Guife, was (lain by or- der of the King, A.D. 1588, with all the previous circamftances of treachery common in that abominable age. N. B. The Lady to whom his fpeclre appears cannot be the fair Marmoutier, for fhe was in the Caftle of Blois at the time of his murder ; but this gal- lant Duke had many Floras in Paris. 72 I. JL WAS when the night with all her ftarry ftrain Before the ruddy ftreaks of morn had fled, While balmy deep diftilFd Lethean rain, The dew of poppies on the wretch's head ; II. Around my couch a mournful wailing flows, How like the tones of him I dearly lov'd ! And hands more deadly chill than Alpine mows My (lumbers with a fond carefs remov'd. III. A youth, deform 'd with wounds, and bath'd in gore, Sunk at my feet then died my foul away ; My heart in painful throbbings beat no more, And cold, and mute, and motionlefs I lay. IV.