Make patriot-breasts with ardour glow,

And warrior pant to meet the foe ;

And long by Nith the maidens young

Shall chaunt the strains their minstrel sung;

At ewe-bught, or at evening fold,
When resting on the daisied wold,
Combing their locks of waving gold,
Oft the fair group enrapt, shall name
Their lost, their darling Cunninghame;
His was a song beloved in youth,-
A tale of weir-a tale of truth.

Dumlanrig.

THE SIXTEENTH BARD'S SONG.

Who's he stands at Dumlanrig's gate?
Who raps so loud, and raps so late?
Nor warder's threat, nor porter's growl,
Question, nor watch-dog's angry howl,
He once regards, but rap and call,
Thundering alternate, shake the wall.

The captive, stretched in dungeon deep,
Waked from his painful visioned sleep;
His meagre form from pavement raised,
And listened to the sounds amazed:

Both bayle and keep rang with the din,
And Douglas heard the noise within.

"Ho! rise, Dumlanrig! all's at stake!
Ho! rise, Dumlanrig! Douglas, wake !—
Blow, warder-blow thy warning shrill,
Light up the beacon on the hill,

For round thee reaves thy ruthless foe.--
Arise, Dumlanrig! Douglas, ho!"

His fur-cloak round him Douglas threw,

And to the crennel eager flew.

"What news? what news? thou stalwart groom,

Who thus, in midnight's deepest gloom,

Bring'st to my gate the loud alarm

Of foray wide and country harm?

What are thy dangers? what thy fears?

Say out thy message, Douglas hears.”

"Haste, Douglas! Douglas, arm with speed,

And mount thy fleetest battle steed;

For Lennox, with the southern host,

Whom thou hast baulked and curbed the most,

Like locusts from the Solway blown,

Are spread upon thy mountains brown ;
Broke from their camp in search of prey,

They drive thy flocks and herds away;
Roused by revenge, and hunger keen,
They've swept the hills of fair Dalveen;
Nor left thee bullock, goat, or steer,

On all the holms of Durisdeer.

"One troop came to my father's hall; They burnt our tower,-they took our all.

My dear, my only sister May,

By force the ruffians bore away;

Nor kid, nor lamb, bleats in the glen,

Around all lonely Locherben!

"My twenty men, I have no moe,

Eager to cross the roaming foe,

Well arm'd with hauberk and broad sword,
Keep ward at Cample's rugged ford.
Before they bear their prey across,

Some Southrons shall their helmets lose,
If not the heads those helmets shield,—
O, haste thee, Douglas, to the field!"-

With that his horse around he drew,

And down the path like lightning flew.

"Arm," cried the Douglas, "one and all !"

And vanished from the echoing wall.
"Arm!" was the word; along it ran
Through manor, bayle, and barbican ;
And clank and clatter burst at once
From every loop of hall and sconce.

What are thy dangers? what thy fears?

Say out thy message, Douglas hears."

"Haste, Douglas! Douglas, arm with speed,

And mount thy fleetest battle steed;

For Lennox, with the southern host,

Whom thou hast baulked and curbed the most,

Like locusts from the Solway blown,

Are spread upon thy mountains brown ;
Broke from their camp in search of prey,

They drive thy flocks and herds away;
Roused by revenge, and hunger keen,
They've swept the hills of fair Dalveen;
Nor left thee bullock, goat, or steer,

On all the holms of Durisdeer.

"One troop came to my father's hall; They burnt our tower,-they took our all.

My dear, my only sister May,

By force the ruffians bore away;