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Song-I danced with Harriet at the fair Leftly. 258
Song-Sweet is the balmy evening Miss Mitford. 259
Song-I like not beauty's roseate Miss Mitford. 260
Song-No, not the eye of tender blue. Thelwall. 260
Song-Oh, frown not on my daring vows Hodgson. 261
ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS
HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND:
CONSIDERED AS THE SUBJECT OF POETRY.
Inscribed to Mr. John Home.
HOME! thou return'st from Thames, whose naiads
Have seen thee lingering with a fond delay, Mid those soft friends whose hearts, some fu
Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song.
Whom, long endear'd, thou leavest by Lavant's
Together let us wish him lasting truth
[side; And joy untainted, with his destined bride.
A gentleman of the name of Barrow, who introduced Home to Collins.
Go! nor regardless, while these numbers boast
Thou need'st but take thy pencil to thy hand, And paint what all believe who own thy genial, land.
There must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill;
To the swart tribes their creamy bowls allots; By night they sip it round the cottage door,
While airy minstrels warble jocund notes. There every herd, by sad experience, knows
How, wing'd with Fate, their elf-shot arrows fly, When the sick ewe her summer food foregoes, Or, stretch'd on earth, the heart-smit heifers lie. Such airy beings awe the' untutor'd swain:
Nor thou, though learn'd, his homelier thoughts neglect ;
Let thy sweet Muse the rural faith sustain; These are the themes of simple sure effect, That add new conquests to her boundless reign, And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding
E'en yet preserved, how often mayst thou hear, Where to the pole the Boreal mountains run, Taught by the father, to his listening son, [ear. Strange lays, whose power had charm'd a Spenser's
At every pause, before thy mind possess'd,
Their matted hair with boughs fantastic crown'd: Whether thou bidd'st the well taught hind repeat The choral dirge that mourns some chieftain brave,
When every shrieking maid her bosom beat,
Or whether, sitting in the shepherd's shiel*, Thou hear'st some sounding tale of war's alarms; When at the bugle's call, with fire and steel, The sturdy clans pour'd forth their brawny swarms, [arms. And hostile brothers met, to prove each other's
'Tis thine to sing how, framing hideous spells,
With their own visions oft astonish'd droop,
* A summer hut, built in the high part of the mountains, to tend their flocks in the warm season, when the pasture is fine.