And now, ye youngsters every where, Take heed in time, nor fondly hope, For happiness below; What you may fancy pleasure here, And girls, and friends, and books, and so, Then be advis'd and warning take I'm neither Pope nor Cardinal Nor one of high degree; You'll meet displeasure every where; Then do as I have done, Even tune your pipe, and please yourselves, XXII. MARY OF BUTTERMERE.* In Buttermere's woods and wilds among, *This song refers to the unfortunate Mary Robinson, better known by the name of Mary of Buttermere. It sweetly smil'd in its native bower, O! sweet was the hour, that like morning clear, For there was a charm, and a witching spell, Her kiss was soft and sweet, That kiss has poison'd peace, Now lonely's every haunt And dull and dear the sacred grove Where we were wont to toy. The rose can please nae mair, The lily seems to fade, And waefu' seems the blackbird's sang That used to cheer the glade. This bosom once was gay, Yet none shall hear the sigh That struggles to be free, No tear shall trace this sallow cheek, No murmur burst from me. Tho' silent be my woe, She minds na o' the vows That seal'd our youthful love, XXIV. DIRGE OF A HIGHLAND CHIEF,* Who was executed after the Rebellion. Son of the mighty and the free, Oh! hadst thou slumbered with the slain We then had mourn'd thee not. But darkly clos'd thy morn of fame, Yet oh! if gallant spirit's power, Then glory mark'd thy parting hour, Last of a mighty line. * This feeling and pathetic dirge was composed by a young gentleman or reading, immediately after its first appearance, the well-known work entitled Waverley. It was then forwarded to the supposed author, requesting, if he should approve, and, under his correction, that it might be inserted in the future editions of that celebrated novel. The individual, however, to whom it was addressed, being wholly unconnected with the work referred to, and having no influence to obtain a place for it there, it was judged proper, |