CONCLUSION. FRIEND of the bard! peace to thy heart, Long hast thou acted generous part, Long hast thou courteously in pain Attended to a feeble strain, While oft abashed has sunk thine eye, Thy task is done, the Wake is bye. I saw thy fear, I knew it just; No sour disdain, nor manner cold, "Tis said that thirty bards appeared, That thirty names were registered, With whom were titled chiefs combined, But some are lost, and some declined. Woe's me, that all my mountain lore Has been unfit to rescue more! And that my guideless rustic skill The prize harp still hung on the wall; The bards were warned to leave the hall, Till courtiers gave the judgment true, To whom the splendid prize was due. What curious wight will pass with me, The anxious motley group to see; List their remarks of right and wrong, And drink one glass the bards among? There sit the men-behold them there, What do they seem? behold them well. Each spoke of others fame and skill With high applause, but jealous will. And all had faults except his own: Y |