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SONNET XI. SCOTCH QUADRILLES.
Perish the coxcomb who united firstTo these vain whimsies, hatch'd beyond the seas,
Old Caledonia's touching melodies;
Wedding the follies of that land accurst,
To strains whose high and soothing music nursed
Heroic hearts, or gave crush'd spirits ease,
Awakening the bright Past's remembrances
While grief's fierce tempest o'er the Present burst.
Oh! ye sweet notes, ye were not meant to lead
The measured steps of fashion: ye should tell
Of Highland glen, wild rock, and pastoral dell,
And scenes like those of which the world doth read
In that bright page, which many a wondrous deed
Of Scottish story hath embalm'd so well.
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