Clyde :: :: University of Virginia Library

Clyde

Wilson, John (1720-1789)

[dedication]

II.

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CLYDE;

A POEM.

I. PART I.

ANALYSIS OF PART I.

Invocation—Inscription of the poem to Lady Hyndford —Rise of Clyde—Address to Tweed and Annan —Lead-mines—Flocks—Morning—Shepherd life, in these districts, compared with that of Arcadia— Bagbie, Lamington, Lockhart-hall, with allusions to family history—Appearance of the different kinds of grain—Clyde compared to Britannia's king surrounded by his vassals—The Sower—Dangers to which the seed is exposed—Generation of Insects—Mowers—Reapers —Tinto.—Douglas Castle—Legend concerning it— Origin of the Clan Douglas—Origin of Somerville— Falls of the Clyde—Lanark—Peaceful regulations of Kenneth—Death of the wife of Wallace by Hazelrig —Allusion to the battle of Agricola and Galgacus —Lockhart—Stonebyres—Origin of the family of Vere—Appearances of forest and fruit trees—Music of birds—Noon—Thunder-storm—Craignethan—Dalserf —Dalziel—Avondale—Chattelherault—Hamilton— Account of the family of Hamilton—Fox-hunting— Stag-hunting—Spawning of salmon—Scotish bison— Bothwell, the ancient seat of the Murrays—Allusion to the battle of Bothwell-bridge—Calder—Woodhall, the seat of Campbell of Isla.

Thy arching groves, O Clyde, thy fertile plains,
Thy towns and villas, claim my filial strains.

Ye Powers! who o'er these winding dales preside,
Who shake the woods, who roll the river's tide;
Who wake the sylvan song, whose pencils pour
The forms of beauty o'er each painted flower;
Inspire the numbers, let the verse display
The charms that grace the imitative lay.
When gently flows the stream, then let the song
In softest, easiest numbers glide along:
When swell'd with rains, o'er rocks it rages fierce,
Swell, rage, and roar, and thunder in my verse.

And thou! to whom indulgent Heaven consigned
The power to bless, the fair angelic mind;

Formed thy soft breast to melt at human woe,
Generous to cherish worth, and wise to know;
Each finer passion of the breast to move,
To awe with virtue, and inspire with love;
With native goodness all mankind to charm;
With love thy noble Hyndford's soul to warm;
This tribute of a humble muse regard,
Who scorns to flatter, or to court reward;
Who, proud to mark with partial eye the fair,
Still makes their virtue, and their charms her care;
But chiefly joys to pour her peaceful strains
On Clyde's delightful banks and fruitful plains.

From one vast mountain bursting on the day,
Tweed, Clyde, and Annan urge their separate way.
To Anglia's shores bright Tweed and Annan run,
That seeks the rising, this the setting sun;
Where raged the Border war, and either flood
Now blushed with Scotish, now with English blood;
Both lands by turns their heroes lost deplore:
But blest Britannia knows these woes no more.

Clyde far from scenes of strife and horror fled,
And through more peaceful fields his waters led:
But ere he issued from their deep abodes,
He sagely thus addressed his brother floods:

“Full well you know the imperial mandate given,
His salutary law who rules in heaven!
That, hasting hence, our waters seek the day,
And from a thousand fountains force their way,
Pour on the plain, and genial moisture yield
To verdant pasture, and to golden field;
Nurse the fair flowers which on our margins rise,
And forests proud which sweep the lofty skies;
See populous cities on our banks extend,
And through their crowded gates their thousands send;
Feel mighty fleets on our fair bosoms ride,
Loading with war or wealth our labouring tide;
Round spacious islands stretch our silver arms,
And in our caverns feed the scaly swarms.
Then in the ocean poured, our journey run,
Forced by rude winds, or courted by the sun,
Our waters, from the brine, disdainful rise,
Through air aspire, and sail along the skies;
On deluged plain, or parched pasture pour
In sounding tempest, or in silent shower;
Adorn the fields, mature the golden grain,
And blot from fields of death the sanguine stain;
Or load with lowring mists the mountain's brow,
Sink through the soil, and feed the springs below;

Or, darkly from the bottom of the deep,
Along the beds of sand in silence creep;
Through earth's dark veins work out their winding way,
And fresh to light from countless fountains play.
Heaven's generous purpose let us glad assist,
For general good. To yield is to be blest.”
The river said; and with impetuous force
Rent the huge hills, and rushed along his course.

Along his infant stream, on either side
The lofty hills, in clouds, their summits hide;
In whose vast bowels, treasured dark and deep,
Exhaustless mines of lead in secret sleep.
But man, audacious man! whose stubborn pride
Free gifts disdains, and longs for all denied,
Mid central earth, bids hardy hands combine
To drag the metal from its parent mine;
Which, forc'd to light, forms the destructive ball,
At whose dire touch, fleets sink, and armies fall;
Seas blush with blood, while floats the crimson field;
Walls sink to dust, to rapine cities yield.
Nor death alone to fated realms it brings;
It to the cistern guides the distant springs;
The lofty palace, or the temples crowns,
Or, raised on high, a sage or hero frowns.

Yet, mortals, fear the first of crimes, be wise;
Prize what Heaven gives, forbear what Heaven denies;
Who numerous flocks o'er every mountain pours,
And makes the fleece and harmless bearer yours;
Burdened with milk, o'er all the hills they bleat,
Or, clad with wool, they crop the pasture sweet.

His glossy silks let the soft Indian show,
Or boast his cotton white as flickering snow;
Boast we the fleece, as downy cotton fair,
Outshining every dye his silk can wear.

When Lucifer, unrivall'd, marks his way
Through fainting stars, to usher in the day;
And soft-awakening morn, serenely bright,
Pours from her opening eyes the silver light;
Less huge the hills, the steeps less dreadful seem,
O'er dewy valleys shoots a silver gleam;
Brighter and wider dart the reddening rays,
Till the pale stars expire amidst the blaze,
And all the east, the veil of clouds unroll'd,
Flames bright in purple and celestial gold.

Then glorious as a hero drest for war,
Forth issues Phœbus in his radiant car;
Inflames the heavens, and rushing on his way,
O'erflows the world with blazing boundless day.

Each blushing flower, ting'd cloud, and gilded field,
In various lustres grateful tributes yield.
Glad swarm the insects forth, the fishes play,
The cattle wanton, mankind bless his ray.
Healthful and gay, the shepherd leaves his rest,
As early morn first streaks the ruddy east;
His dogs attending, bounds the mountains o'er;
Explores, collects, and counts his fleecy store;
Then tunes his pipe, and with a cheerful lay
Joins the grand hymn, to welcome rising day.
The towering lark ascends on pinions strong,
And as she mounts, improves the varying song,
Sweeter and sweeter modulates the sound,
Till song and songster are in either drowned.
Her numbers clear the shepherd's mind employ,
Who sucks the soul of harmony and joy:
His harmless flock and tender lambs conspire,
To feed humanity's refining fire.
Smooth glide his days in innocence and ease;
The half of earth, and more of heaven he sees;
As on the airy hill he lies reclined,
Each prospect swells his self-illumined mind.

At dawn, the sprightly milk-maid band appears,
Whose distant laugh strikes his delighted ears,

All fresh as morn, as early summer gay,
And sweetly fragrant as the breath of May:
Health decks their comely cheeks with rosy grace,
And innocence plays cheerful o'er their face:
Love lends his pinions, swift the shepherd springs,
And to the fold the milky mothers brings.
Then frolic nymphs and swains with sportful glee;
Pure are their hearts, and their behaviour free:
The foaming pails, which snowy floods o'erflow,
Raised on their heads, they singing homeward go.

Such scenes adorn bright Dara's silver course,
Who amorous yields to Clyde's inferior force;
Who girds Leadhills, for wealthy mines renowned,
And Crawford's spacious downs, where flocks abound;
Where Elvin fierce, with dark Dunneeten flows,
And where his ore-stained stream Glengonnar shows.

Let Grecian poets sing in deathless strains,
Arcadia's mountains green, and flowery plains;
Let them with tuneful gods and shepherds throng,
And lovely nymphs, that native land of song:
Yet not famed Mænalus, great Pan's abode,
Nor fair Cyllene, by sage Hermes trod,
Prouder than Douglas' hills or Crawford's rise,
Or lift their haughty heads so near the skies:

Nor on her hills or dales Arcadia views
More graceful swains, or dearer to the muse:
What pastoral bard with Ramsay can compare,
Ramsay the favourite of the British fair;
And here the poet breathed his earliest strains,
And learned to warble love's delightful pains.

Now Bagbie rises graceful o'er the flood,
And Lammington, of ancient heroes proud.
These fair possessions fate to beauties gave,
Just, to reward the sage, the learned, and brave.
To godlike Wallace, one resigned her charms,
When Biggar's field confest the chieftain's arms.
For as an eagle pounces from the sky,
Where in their fold devoted lambkins lie,
From Tinto, darting on the tented plain,
He heap'd the sanguine field with hills of slain.
Their generous offspring blest with her embrace,
A high-born youth of Baliol's royal race.

A knight of Hyndford's noble lineage led,
Another graceful heiress to his bed;
And sage Dundas, who skilfully presides
O'er judges, and the course of justice guides,
Espous'd her daughter, who supremely shone
In every charm that graceful females own.

From these descends a fair, who scorned her charms
To yield, save to a mighty hero's arms;
Accomplished Lockhart! in whose soul conspire
The court's politeness with the hero's fire;
Whose stately bark, unconquered on the main,
Oft dyed with Gallic gore the watery plain;
Swift as the hawk, that sees, athirst for blood,
Steal near her nest the magpie's chattering brood,
And from her lofty stand like lightning darts,
Pierces their panting sides, and rends their trembling hearts.
Fair Lockhart-hall, whose view, disdaining bound,
Commands the charms of all the country round,
This hero bred: his sires from Douglas spring,
Who bare the heart of Bruce, his valiant king,
Locked in a golden vase, a sacred trust,
To lodge it deep in Salem's holy dust.
His sacred charge fulfilled, when fate decreed
The chief beneath a Moorish spear should bleed,
Locked with like care, his heart this friend brought home,
And sad consigned to his paternal tomb.
The term deriving from his pious care,
The name of Lockhart hence his offspring bare;
An honoured race, in camp or council skilled;
Fam'd at the bar, or glorious in the field:

On Clyde's delightful banks their mansions rise,
And o'er the stream behold the southern skies.

Where the fair Maidens glide with silent force,
And, close embracing, end their gentle course;
Unbounded plenty overflows the plain,
Each bending stalk presents a load of grain;
And every kind a different lustre yields,
With varied beauty to adorn the fields.
See that broad plain which deepest verdure wears;
Like scattered rubies first the bloom appears;
Still sparkling thronger as the stalks arise,
Till one bright purple glow the ridges dyes.
In silver hue the awny barley shines,
And waving oats extend their golden lines:
Soft zephyrs waft o'er every spacious field,
The fragrant odours beans in blossom yield;
And stately wheat, which winter's rage defied,
Still lifts its head erect with hardy pride.

Around imperial Clyde, in regal state,
The various powers of rural plenty wait;
Whether through fields of vegetable gold,
He shoots direct, or wreathes each humid fold.
To grace Britannia's king, on days of joy,
Thus all his court their various cares employ:

The royal race in purple robes are seen;
In bright brocades the fair attend their queen;
And martial chiefs, who burn the foe to face,
In scarlet stand erect with martial grace.
Here flames the gold, and there the silver shines,
And all the gems that blaze from Indian mines;
Blest as a god, the monarch moves along,
And scatters joy profusely through the throng:
So rolls majestic Clyde his silver way,
While subject-streams confess his sovereign sway.

The labouring steeds, and steers, and sturdy swains,
Imprint the long deep furrows on the plains;
A stately maiden on her graceful head,
By taper neck supported, bears the seed;
Which wide the sower strews with lavish hand;
While the harsh harrow following smooths the land.
What support nature craves, their labour yields,
And kings and queens are nourished by the fields.

The tender seed what various dangers threat!
Chilled by the cold, or sweltered by the heat;
By floods o'erwhelmed, by torrents swept away;
The tempest's sport, or crawling reptile's prey.
Dire caterpillars, with voracious haste,
Devour the verdure, and lay summer waste;

Till, gorged at last, the gluttons loath the day,
And, self-entombed, their surfeit sleep away:
Their dull gross natures thus by death refine;
Thence burst to life, in brighter hues to shine;
At large through all the fields of ether scour,
On odours feast, or banquet on the flower.

But here, behold a wondrous scene displayed!
A mighty pomp of little creatures made!
For when the winds are hushed, serene the day,
On filmy wings the swarming insects play;
Some first in pools scarce moving, mud appear,
And after flutter through the fields of air;
And some in verdant leaves their eggs conceal,
Where tumours from the wound around them swell.
Of these, the gnats with speckled wings we find,
And crests adorned, a small but angry kind!
In living columns from the flood they rise,
With turbid motion, trembling to the skies;
With stings infixed, they plague the toiling swain,
Disturb his labours, and augment his pain.

See how their arms these sturdy mowers wield!
How smooth behind them shines the ravished field!
Swinging their formidable scythes around,
Each sweep lays bare a mighty length of ground.

Their work behind the active rakers ply,
The fragrant herbs around them lightly fly:
The panting steeds drag slow the groaning wain,
And deep the wheels imprint the yielding plain:
The maids pile up the stack, while from below
The hay into their arms their lovers throw.

The reapers next appear, a merry band;
A sharp-toothed sickle shines in every hand;
Subdued before them falls the yielding grain,
Behind, long lines of sheaves load thick the plain.
Band strives with band, and harmless dispute breeds;
The rustic jest, the noisy laugh succeeds.
As they advance, their lord with lessening fear,
Sees crowned the hopes and labours of the year;
And in his barn-yard lodged, a treasure shines,
More precious than the wealth of Indian mines.
His weary nymphs and swains, behold him call
To dear-earned banquet in his rustic hall.
With ale and music their plain hearts they cheer,
Dance, and forget the labours of the year.

Such copious plenty crowns Carnwath's domains,
And the fair fields where noble Hyndford reigns:
For where vast Tinto heaves his bulk on high,
His shoulders bear the clouds, his head the sky;

Mists for a robe o'er his large limbs extend,
And gushing fountains from his skirts descend,
O'er the bleak mountain poured: The traveller sees
The yellow corn studded with verdant trees:
He doubts the place; who wrought the change inquires,
And hearing Hyndford's name, no more admires.
For what is hard for that extensive mind,
Which Naples charmed, luxuriant and refined?
Revered on hardy Russia's stormy coast,
By spirits tempered in eternal frost;
Esteemed alike by Austria's haughty dame,
And Prussia's prince, the loudest boast of fame;
Whose pictured forms adorn his stately halls,
Frown dread, or smile enchantment, from the walls.
His sires to warlike Douglas' race allied,
Proud of their clan, were faithful to his side.
Their honourable crest shall ever tell,
By whom the dread of France, great Clarence, fell.

Mark the dark stream that bears the Douglas name,
Proud of his ancient chieftain's martial fame;
Who on his brink still views his castle tower,
O'er time triumphant, and o'er hostile power.
For, true as strange! whene'er the fabric falls,
Stronger and fairer mount the lofty walls.

Thus the sure fates to good Sir James declared,
Of his unrivalled worth the high reward,
When with strong arm he razed his native owers,
In scorn of Edward and his southern powers.
For this they lengthened out the mansion's date,
Till the supporting earth should yield to fate:
Or if it fell, propitiously decreed,
A nobler fabric always should succeed.
In vain may time, may foes their rage renew,
No earthly power shall Douglas e'er subdue.

As Scotia's sons, in every clime, excelled
In hardy feats, on every dangerous field,
Among the Scots supreme in martial grace,
Bright shone the valiant chiefs of Sholto's race.
When Scotia's king, oppressed with speechless woe,
Viewed his spent squadrons yielding to the foe;
Before the van he saw the hero dart,
Scorn on his brow, and vengeance in his heart;
Fresh to the charge the fainting troops he led;
By his wide-wasting sword the foemen bled;
His single arm restored the doubtful day,
And tore from foes the laurel and the prey.
The battle won, when Scotia's Prince inquired
What arm performed the deed by all admired;

Sholto Du Glas! an ancient chieftain cried;
Sholto Du Glas! the wondering prince replied,
As black with dust, and all-besmeared with blood,
He marked the sable hero where he stood.

When every peer with Edward's power complies,
Douglas alone his baffled rage defies;
By flattery, fraud, and force unmoved remains,
And, firm to liberty, expires in chains.
Thrice twenty times victorious for the right,
His son returned illustrious from the fight;
But most, when hasting to redeem from fate
His friend, surrounded in the hard debate;
As faints the foe his generous aid he stays,
And yields him unimpaired the victor's praise.

Dread Hotspur yielded to a Douglas' might,
Who bare his spear triumphant from the fight.
When bleeding in the field the hero lies,
His name, though dead, brought victory from the skies.

When England's lord ignoble dread confest,
Exposing subjects in the royal vest,
A prey so tempting whets the Douglas' ire,
And seeming kings on seeming kings expire;
So had the true; but rescued from the fight,
By France-subduing Henry's matchless might;

Checked in her conquests, England feels their wound,
And rescued Gauls the Douglas' triumph sound.

Scarce Europe could their dreadful deeds contain,
From Russia's frozen coast to sultry Spain.
Nor time has yet subdued the mighty line;
Still bright their vigour, and their honours shine.
These, generous Morton, thy famed line support;
Hence sprightly March attends his Sovereign's court;
Queensberry, who latest of his race resigned
To fate, the lustre of a princely mind.

Ah! let me yet the mournful theme pursue,
The mansion of a generous friend in view;
From which no more his graceful form is seen
To mount the hill, or tread the flowery green.
No more his smiles the clouded brow shall clear,
Nor my sad heart his friendly converse cheer:
For his kind speech the fiercest griefs beguiled,
And all were cheerful round when William smiled.
His words were true, his smiles were void of art;
The kindest friend, with the sincerest heart.
As mild his manners as his soul was brave;
He never frowned but when he marked a knave.
No more he bids the swains' contentions cease,
Restrains their rage, or smiles them into peace.

Nor he alone reposes in the dust,
But Aristides too, the good, the just,
Whose worth by all that knew him was confest,
And still they prized him most who knew him best.
Good men him loved, and men of sense revered;
The wretched blest him, and the villain feared.
For virtue's self he followed virtue's ways,
And valued not if crowds should blame or praise.

From that Hungarian chief his line descends,
Who led with Edgar his Sarmatian bands;
Who, when the conquering Norman's lawless might
Drove the young sovereign from his royal right,
A faithful friend, aspired his fate to share:
But when great Malcolm raised his virtuous heir
To Scotia's throne, and bade the warrior reign
The princely lord of many a vast domain,
For Somervilles were daily heifers slain,
Which grazed Carnwath's luxuriant level plain.

Where ancient Corehouse hangs above the stream,
And far beneath the tumbling surges gleam,
Engulphed in crags, the fretting river raves,
Chaffed into foam, resound his tortured waves;
With giddy heads we view the dreadful deep,
And cattle snort, and tremble at the steep,

Where down at once the foaming waters pour,
And tottering rocks repel the deafening roar:
Viewed from below, it seems from heaven they fell!
Seen from above, they seem to sink to hell!
But when the deluge pours from every hill,
And Clyde's wide bed ten thousand torrents fill,
His rage the murmuring mountain streams augment:
Redoubled rage, in rocks so closely pent:
Then shattered woods, with ragged roots uptorn,
And herds and harvests down the wave are borne;
Huge stones heaved upward through the boiling deep,
And rocks enormous thundering down the steep,
In swift descent, fixed rocks encountering, roar,
Crash as from slings discharged, and shake the shore.

From that drear grot which bears thy sacred name,
Heroic Wallace! ever dear to fame,
Did I the terrors of the scene behold;
I saw the liquid snowy mountains rolled
Prone down the awful steep; I heard the din
That shook the hill, from caves that boiled within:
Then wept the rocks and trees, with dropping hair,
Thick mists ascending loaded all the air,
Blotted the sun, obscured the shining day,
And washed the blazing noon at once away.

The wreck below, in wild confusion tost,
Convolved in eddies, or in whirlpools lost,
Is swept along, or dashed upon the coast,
Where Lanark's ancient towers assert her claim
To eldest rank, and give a province name.

Old Lanark's origin, which search transcends,
In ancient venerable darkness ends.
Here Kenneth oft retired, whose skilful hand
Swayed Scotia's sceptre of supreme command;
The stain of feudal combats to efface,
Through Clyde's fair forest he pursued the chace;
Revolving godlike projects in his breast,
By peaceful arts to make his people blest.
But discontented pride his chiefs inflame;
Their fiery souls, athirst for martial fame,
Disdain a peaceful monarch to obey,
And secret plot against his sovereign sway.
Bewrayed, the monarch bids his heralds call
A solemn council; guards surround the hall;
When thus the king: “From war heaven bids us cease,
And cultivate the beauteous works of peace;
So plenty shall o'erflow these happy plains,
And love and joy shall crown the nymphs and swains.
But such as place in war their horrid joy,
And count it glorious only to destroy,

May pour their fury on an open foe,
Nor weave in secret plots their country's woe.
Yet those of miscreant soul, who grace refuse,
Despise our counsel, and our love abuse,
Shall know what justice and our trust demand;
Nor shall the vengeance loiter in our hand.
But ah! why should his much-loved sons conspire
Against the life of their indulgent sire?
If griefs oppress, my children may demand,
Assured relief from their dear father's hand.
Then freely ask; and let my people know,
For them my wealth, for them my blood shall flow.”

The father of his people thus exprest
The generous dictates of his noble breast.
Remorse and reverence every bosom tamed;
The just revered, the guilty stood ashamed;
Duteous obedience discontent succeeds:
Such reverence still consummate virtue breeds!

Here Hazelrig the spouse of Wallace slew;
His sword for vengeance here the hero drew.
Wretch! bid thy slighted son redress demand,
As suits a warrior, from his rival's hand:
On me exhaust thy coward rage, nor dare
To wreck thy wrath on the defenceless fair.

On barren hearts the tears of beauty fall;
But soon red flames involve the tyrant's hall.

Here their broad wings Rome's ravening eagles spread,
When great Agricola her legions led:
Not Grampian mountains could his speed restrain;
And brave Galgacus fought, but fought in vain.
Then freedom, loth to leave her native seat,
Mid northern snow-hills sought her sad retreat;
Bade hardly Graham her ancient bounds restore,
And Romans sink beneath the red claymore.

Clyde, foaming o'er his falls, tremendous roars,
And Mouse through rugged rocks his waters pours,
Where Cleghorn, beauteous by a Lockhart's care,
Bares to the distant view her bosom fair;
And Lee's recess; whence many a chief of name,
Heroes and sages, moved in quest of fame.

Bosomed in woods, and rising o'er the plain,
See fair Stonebyres, generous Vere's domain.
From Oxford's lofty race their lineage springs;
Famed Oxford, sprung from emperors and kings.
How bright the Veri Antonini shone!
When virtue's self possest the imperial throne.
The world admired Aurelius' godlike sway,
And blest his power, delighted to obey.

But when the fierce prætorian cohorts sold
The earth's broad empire for alluring gold,
The generous Veri left imperial Rome,
And fixed in warlike Normandy their home.
And when before the Normans' furious might,
The conquered Saxon sunk in fatal fight,
Above the bravest shone the valiant Vere,
And far-famed Oxford fell the hero's share.
But, led by friendship, from their native soil,
They shared the noble Hamilton's exile.
On either side they stretch their wide domain
Where turbid Nethan rends the indented plain.

Where ample fields could scarce one sheep sustain,
The plains of Kennedy wave white with grain;
Where scarce the heath the lark's low nest could shade,
Now lofty trees ascending, heaven invade.

Now Clyde propitious opes his fair retreats,
Sage wisdom's haunts, the muses' pleasant seats.
Recesses soft, where rocks around them rolled,
Rebuke the tempest, and defy the cold:
On whose high brows tall woods majestic sweep
The skies, their roots swell antic o'er the steep;
Where trickling springs from earth's dark caverns broke,
Weep through the chinks, and tinkle down the rock;

Whose rugged face the mantling ivy hides:
Around the base a murmuring rivulet glides;
On his green brink each fragrant wild-flower meets,
And wantons in a wilderness of sweets.

First, pale primroses drink the early dew;
Then modest violets show their heavenly blue;
The verdant fields, where red-crowned daisies blow,
Seem spotted with a gentle shower of snow:
These, flowered with scarlet, brilliant hues unfold;
Embroidered those with nature's richest gold.
Twining the brake, the fragrant woodbine pours
Her odorous twigs, and sweetly breathing flowers:
While pale wild-roses scatter perfumes round,
And fragrance floats along the vernal ground;
And sparkling thyme, when bruised by rustic feet,
Darts on the nostril scents more piercing sweet.

Here let me walk abroad when tempests fly,
And careless hear them rage along the sky;
Where forest trees with daring grandeur rise,
Disdain the earth, and bold invade the skies.
How wide his arms the stately ash extends;
The plane's thick head mid burning day suspends
Impenetrable shade; bees humming pour
O'er the broad balmy leaves, and suck the flower:

Green shoots the fir his spiry point on high;
And fluttering leaves on trembling aspens sigh:
With haughtier air, see the strong oak ascend,
Too proud before an angry heaven to bend:
His leaves unshaken, winter's rage defy;
He shades a field, and heaves a wood on high;
Glories in stubborn strength, when tempests roar,
And scorns to yield, save to the thunder's power.

But May with softer charms the shrub adorns;
She spreads her snowy mantle o'er the thorns;
Decks the rough furze with flaming orange bloom,
And loads with vegetable gold the broom;
Pure nature's beauteous work. But culture joins,
Where yon bright glow from neighbouring orchards shines.
Their snowy pride the plumb-trees first display;
Then shakes the pear's tall head with silver gray;
The apple bids her painted blossoms rise;
Each gem soft-swelling, with the ruby vies;
With thin expanded petals smiles around,
While trees appear with damask roses crowned.

With various notes, sweet, solemn, loud, and deep,
The tuneful thrush awakes the band from sleep:
The blackbird whistles in a merrier note;
Sweet sings the goldsinch in her gawdy coat;

Familiar redbreast warbles softly clear;
The wren's shrill chattering charms the distant ear;
While doves in deeper notes express their loves,
And with their amorous cooing fill the murmuring groves.
Love wakes the melody, their voices tunes,
Swells every note, each brightening pinion prunes.
Through all the dancing air the music floats;
The wanton breezes waft the lingering notes,
Which softly sport along the listening floods,
And waft the fragrance from the vocal woods:
Our sympathising breasts dissolve in love,
And all the force of vernal transports prove.

When Phœbus flaming bright in cloudless skies,
Pours all his splendours on my labouring eyes,
In these sweet groves let me at ease recline,
While o'er my head the trembling branches twine,
Which wanton breezes shake in sportive play,
While shades and sunshine shift in chequered day;
Or when their heads, with tempests struggling, nod,
And cast the dancing shadows far abroad.
As languid on the banks I lie reclined,
Half-formed ideas melting in my mind;
The maddening cattle hurry to the wood,
Or, stung with swarming insects, seek the flood.

No pearly dews refresh the labouring ground;
Dry are the leaves, and parched the herbs around;
The tender flowers soft languish or expire,
And crackling stalks reproach the scorching fire;
The tuneful birds suppress the cheerful lay,
And to hoarse grashoppers resign the day;
While at each opening pore, the panting earth,
Labouring with heat, breathes steaming vapours forth.

Heaven's beauteous face a dismal darkness shrouds,
And black descends a solid arch of clouds.
The flocks forsake the fields in flowery pride,
The silent birds in leafy coverts hide;
The whispering winds are hushed, and dumb the flood,
While nature faints before the frown of God.
Terrific broods the gloom o'er boding earth,
And swift the red-winged lightnings issue forth:
Hoarse thunders far through heaven's wide regions roll,
And crashing fragors burst from pole to pole:
Heaven opening, glares at once: A boundless glow
Of forked lightning floods the world below.
It opes; it shuts; 'tis night and day by turns;
Still thunders deepen; ether redder burns;
Till all the struggling storms their prisons rend,
And all at once the rushing clouds descend;

The rattling leaves through all the forests sound,
The corn, opprest, lies prostrate on the ground:
Red rush the roaring torrents down the hills,
And Clyde's wide bed a foaming deluge fills;
The mound he bursts, and down the rampart bears,
Sweeps the broad village, ancient woods uptears;
And proudly lifts on high the ravaged spoil
Of the improver's art and labourer's toil;
With ruin marking all his wasteful way,
He spreads his conquest with resistless sway.
Wild desolation far and wide prevails,
And ruin floats triumphant o'er the dales.
All nature mourns, till Phœbus cheerful ray
Dispels the darkness, and restores the day.

Then nature smiles; wide flow from every grove
The fragrant gales of health, and songs of love.
Earth wears a livelier green: Cerulean skies
Smile soft; the wood-flowers glow with brighter dies.
Their silver smoothness Clyde's fair floods resume,
And groves and fields with fresher lustre bloom.

On shaggy rocks exalted, wildly sweet,
Ascends Craignethan's gay romantic seat;
And Milntown, bending o'er his subject woods,
His image views in the surrounding floods.

Here Roy was born, who led the sanguine way
To crimson conquest on dread Minden's day.
Low Mauldslie lies, by lofty banks embraced,
By art adorned, but more by nature graced.

As some coy virgin shuns the public view,
So fair Dalserf amidst her scenes withdrew;
But peeps along the stream with aspect sly,
Where groves and fields in fair confusion lie;
Sees spacious Wishaw boast her generous lord,
And Cultness joy to view her chief restored;
Sees that sweet vale where Cambusnethan gay,
Receives with open arms the noontide ray;
While woody banks, with wavy verdure crowned,
Embrace the plain, and clasp the mansion round.

But proudly eminent, Dalziel ascends,
And far his spacious avenues extends.
His winding walks along the flowery stream,
Inspire at once the song, and give the theme:
Where stately trees aloft their branches spread,
A verdant arch extending over head;
Between their trunks refreshing breezes play,
And fluttering leaves admit the dubious ray.
But when in wrath majestic Clyde o'erflows,
Amidst the flood green shake their trembling rows.

Here Avon pours, who his long current leads
Through old Strathaven, famed for generous steeds:
Through pastures, fields, and towns he rolls along;
The soil is fruitful, and the swains are strong.
But on yon eminence, exalted high,
Proud Chattelherault's tall turrets strike the sky,
Mid artificial lawns extending, green,
While gay parterres enamelled spread between;
Fenced with broad waving woods of varied hue;
A sweet retreat, with all the world in view.
So Paradise, with faultless beauty crowned,
On mountains rose, which shook with woods around.
Here, deep-ingulphed in rocks, fair Avon flows,
While lines of crystal wander down their brows;
Where sportive nature all the forms has shown
Of vegetation in a growing stone;
Nor by the sages can it be defined,
Or plant, or stone, where both so well are joined.

In billowy surges waves the rising grain,
Where graceful Hamilton adorns the plain.
In ancient pomp, above the subject lands,
The palaced hall her winged courts expands;
The lofty walls with polished marble vie,
And stately columns heave the roof on high;

The figured arras lines each spacious hall,
And forms for ancient chiefs a gorgeous pall.
So gleamed the splendid halls in lambent flame,
When to his court bright Phœbus' offspring came.
Lost and confounded in a storm of light,
Each radiant view o'erpowered his darkened sight.
With gold and silver bright pyropus strove,
And glittering ivory crowned the roofs above.
But fairer here the roofs than ivory show,
Smoother than glass, more white than falling snow.
The polished marble owns each latent grace,
And shaded canvas shows the living face:
Dread heroes frown in all their ancient ire,
And softer eyes still dart the heavenly fire.
The mansion's lords, whose lofty lineage springs
From the long line of Caledonian kings,
Hold, with their consorts bright, the foremost place,
The dames, the chiefs of that illustrious race.

But who could hope Eliza's form to paint!
To blend in one the angel and the saint!
In whom her beauty is her lowest praise,
Though that the brightest that the sun surveys.
To heaven and nature just, their darling care
Repaid their bounty to each orphan-fair:

For, lest dull want and anxious penury
Should damp the dawning lustre of their eye;
Wither the roses which begin to blow,
Or tinge with sallow hue their native snow;
She reared her orphan charge with tender art,
And, like a parent, soothed each lonely heart.

As by the moisture nurst which Clyde supplies,
The mighty oak springs to gigantic size;
Proudly erects his wide spread head on high,
While his long arms invest the distant sky;
So eminent this princely stock is found,
Extending prosperous branches wide around.
From Leicester's race descends the lofty line,
A generous breed, in battle doomed to shine;
The chief that spurned a minion's rank abuse,
And joined the fortunes of the warrior Bruce:
Faithful to Scotish kings the race has stood,
While circles in their veins their sovereign's blood.
Hence bold Bargenny and Belhaven rose;
Hence, Haddington, thy noble lineage flows;
Hence sprung rich Abercorn, a mighty peer,
And Selkirk, ever to the muses dear.

Yet most the name adorns their native Clyde,
Where frequent shine their domes on every side;

Whence, moving graceful, all the active race
Rush with their sprightly chief to urge the chase;
Where slily lurking mid his caverned rocks,
By Clyde's fair banks, slow creeps the crafty fox:
Sagacious hounds his tainted track pursue,
He doubles, winds, and shuns the open view.
Their chiming sounds his frighted ears invade;
In vain his wiles he summons to his aid;
He, listening, hears in every blast of wind,
The deep-mouthed hound and thundering horse behind:
He shoots the steep, and tracks the sightless road,
And winding mazes to his dark abode.
With aspect mean, a formidable foe,
The terrier drives him from his haunt below.
His guilt glares hideous, when in open day,
The villain stands revealed, with dumb dismay,
When guileful rapine's hoarded spoils are viewed,
And guilty caverns stained with guiltless blood.
None grieve, when low the trembling felon lies,
Who, unlamented, unlamenting dies.
His limbs the hungry brood of ravens feed;
Abhorred alive, more loathsome still when dead.

Not so the stately stag, of harmless force;
In motion graceful, rapid in his course.

Nature in vain his lofty head adorns
With formidable groves of pointed horns.
Soon as the hound's fierce clamour strikes his ear,
He throws his arms behind, and owns his fear;
Sweeps o'er the unprinted grass, the wind outflies;—
Hounds, horses, hunters, horns, still sound along the skies;
Fierce as a storm they pour along the plain;
Their lively chief still foremost of the train;
With unremitting ardour leads the chace;—
He, trembling, safety seeks in every place;
Drives through the thicket, scales the lofty steep;
Bounds o'er the hills, or darts through valleys deep;
Plunges amid the river's cooling tides,
While strong and quick he heaves his panting sides.
He from afar his loved companions sees,
Whom the loud hoop that hurtles on the breeze
Into a crowded phalanx firm had cast;
Their armed heads all outward round them placed:
Some desperate band, surrounded, thus appears,
Hedged with protended bayonets and spears:
To these he flies, and begs to be allowed
To share the danger with the kindred crowd;
But must, by general voice excluded, know
How loathed the sad society of woe.

The cruel hounds pour round on every hand;
Desperate, he turns to make a feeble stand:
Big tears on tears roll down his harmless face;
He falls, and sues in vain, alas! for grace.
Pitied and prized he dies. The ponderous prey
The jolly troop in triumph bear away.

Nor men infest alone the open field;
Even Clyde's deep floods can no protection yield.
Man, formed by heaven to bless each living kind,
Their bounteous lord and guardian god designed,
Degenerate now, pursues relentless strife,
And robs for sport his subjects' harmless life.
By purifying frosts, when streams run clear,
The amorous salmons to the fords repair;
Unerring instinct moves their longing mind,
By wondrous ways to propagate their kind.
Not the red firebrand blazing o'er their head,
Can force the lovers from their watery bed;
So fierce love rages in their gelid blood,
The unheeded trident gores them in the flood.
Deep, deep they bury in a sandy bed
Their countless ova and prolific seed;
Which unobserved, long lurk beneath the tide,
Till Sol arrays the year in vernal pride;

Then all the sand, (a true, though wondrous thing!)
Begins to move as in a bubbling spring.
Swarming with life, the weltering bottom heaves,
And glittering swarms crowd the encumbered waves:
Broad shoals, on shoals in youthful prime, are rolled;
Their azure armour shines with studs of gold;
Bedropt with purple hues, and scarlet bright,
They shoot amidst the floods, a glorious sight.

Where these high walls round wide-inclosures run,
Forbid the winter, and invite the sun,
Wild strays the race of bisons, white as snow,
Hills, dales and woods re-echo when they low.
No houses lodge them, and no milk they yield,
Save to their calves; nor turn the furrowed field:
At pleasure through the spacious pastures stray;
No keeper know, nor any guide obey;
Nor round the dairy with swelled udders stand,
Or, lowing, court the milkmaid's rosy hand.
But, mightiest of his race, the bull is bred;
High o'er the rest he rears his armed head,
The monarch of the drove, his sullen roar,
Shakes Clyde with all his rocks from shore to shore.
The murdered sounds in billowy surges come,
Deep, dismal as the death-denouncing drum,

When some dark traitor, mid an armed throng,
His bier the sable sledge, is dragged along.
Not prouder looked the Thunderer when he bore
The fair Europa from the Tyrian shore:
The beauteous females that his nod obey,
Match the famed heifers of the god of day.

Where Bothwell's bridge connects the margins steep,
And Clyde below runs silent, strong, and deep;
The hardy peasant, by oppression driven
To battle, deemed his cause the cause of Heaven:
Unskilled in arms, with useless courage stood,
While gentle Monmouth grieved to shed his blood.
But fierce Dundee, inflamed with deadly hate,
In vengeance for the great Montrose's fate,
Let loose the sword, and to the hero's shade,
A barbarous hecatomb of victims paid.
Clyde's shining silver with their blood was stained;
His paradise with corpses red profaned;
Which, when from Bothwell's lofty banks we view,
Shines with the leaves of spring, and blossoms new.

On every side, along the winding stream,
The eye meets one continued roseate gleam,
From orchards flaming with a lovely glow;
Scarce Eden could present a fairer show.

When Phœbus in the east, ascending bright,
Unlocks the treasuries of celestial light,
The vales and plains a golden deluge fills,
Which brightens all the stream, and gilds the hills.
Clear shine the fields, in flowing splendours drowned;
The waving radiance boundless rolls around;
A shining sea, from Tinto's cloudy brow
To northern mountains of perennial snow.
How instantaneous flies the rapid sight
Through all the wide, the boundless fields of light!
This glance just strikes the verdant turf we tread;
The next flies o'er the distant mountain's head.
Remote in space the twinkling star is seen,
Though twice ten thousand systems intervene.
The tufted grass lines Bothwell's ancient hall;
The fox peeps cautious from the creviced wall;
Where once proud Murray, Clydesdale's ancient lord,
A mimic sovereign, held the festal board;
But dark oblivion has erased the name
Of many a hero from the lists of fame.
When ebbed their noble blood, a damsel fair
Consigned their power to Douglas the austere;
Who bade the Gothic temple rise sublime,
Still fresh and youthful from the wrecks of time.

And here thy noble dust, loved Forfar! lies,
Whose graceful figure charmed admiring eyes:
But rushing to the field, too early brave!
To crush rebellion, and the land to save,
Fell, mourned by all. His monument here shows
His pious mother's unremitting woes.

On the high bank, where verdant groves arise,
And wave their leafy honours near the skies,
Descends a torrent of his heroes proud,
With courage bold, and conduct sage endued:
Maxwell, of military art approved,
By Ferdinand, the dread of France, beloved.
From German plains, crowned with immortal fame,
The graceful warrior in his glory came:
And Stewart his victorious laurels bore
From Louisburgh and Cuba's sultry shore:
For, when the Moro tumbled on the plain,
And strong Havannah saw her champion slain,
The form of Stewart ruddy Victory took,
And trembling Spain to her foundation shook.
Each his descent from ancient heroes brings;
From Lennox one; one from Carlaverock springs.
As Calder rolls his melancholy flood,
Deep sunk between his banks, and dim with mud;

“Learn, learn,” he cries, “ye honoured, rich, and great,
How vain youth, beauty, honour, or estate,
Since all combined in vain, alas! to save
Lovely Hamilla from an early grave.
Could all a mother's tenderness or grief,
Or virtue's power, have brought the fair relief,
Long had she lived, and blest the human kind,
With beauty, wisdom, goodness, all combined.
Now lonely, midst her wide improven plains,
And far-stretched groves, her fair Rosehall complains.”

Forbear, replies the majesty of Clyde,
Still does not sweet Woodhall adorn thy side?
Whose noble architecture charms the eye,
And with my proudest palaces may vie;
Where Campbell rules, chief of a warlike horde,
While Ila's clans revere their giant lord.

II. PART II.

ANALYSIS OF PART II.

Comparison of the windings of Clyde to the Links of Forth—Allusion to Hamilton the poet—Rutherglen —Horse-racing—Villas in the vicinity of Glasgow— Bathing—Military exercises—Bleaching—Glasgow— Variety of studies in the University—Assemblies— A wedding—A funeral—St. Mungo—Comparison of Glasgow to London as a commercial mart—Kelvin, and its founderies—Canal between Forth and Clyde compared to the ancient Roman wall—Allusion to the battles of Falkirk and Bannockburn—The Grahams —Scotstown and Renfield compared to two rival beauties viewing themselves in the same glass—Ancient families of Renfrewshire—Paisley—Crookstone—Allusion to Mary Queen of Scots—Battle of Langside— Finlayston—Origin of the Cuninghams—Dumbarton, or Alclutha—Buchanan—Allusion to Ossian's fall of Balclutha—Leven—Floating isle in Lochlomond— Origin of the Campbells—Lowdon—Ardencaple— Roseneath—Greenock—Bute—Allusion to the battle of Largs—Arran—Cunningham—Kyle—Kintyre— Ailsa—Allusion to the sea-fight between Elliot and Thurot—Address of Clyde to his tributary streams— Sun-set.

Boast not, great Forth, thy broad majestic tide,
Beyond the graceful modesty of Clyde;
Though famed Mæander, in the poet's dream,
Ne'er led through fairer fields, his wandering stream.
Bright wind thy mazy Links on Stirling's plain,
Which oft departing, still return again;
And wheeling round and round, in sportive mood,
The nether stream turns back to meet the upper flood.
Now sunk in shades, now bright in open day,
Bright Clyde, in simple beauty, winds his way.
In wanderings serpentine, his wanton train
Wreaths round the bank, or through the flowery plain;
While fair peninsules, by the flood embraced,
Exult in beauties lavished out to waste:

Where late gay Hamilton's facetious lay,
In rustic numbers hailed returning May;
And bade the brakes of Ardrie long resound
The plaintive dirge, that graced his favourite hound.

Old Rutherglen his designation brings
From Reuther, famed among our earliest kings:
Where numerous miners dwell, who fly the day,
Through central darkness urge their downward way;
Where, slumbering in their secret beds, retire
The sable stores which nurse the rage of fire.

To try the vigour of the generous horse,
The level lawn expands the racer's course;
Where, on the days to festal games assigned,
The sprightly horsemen crowd from every wind;
While gazing crowds admire the courser's speed,
The graceful rider, and the governed steed.
More skilful horsemen Græcia ne'er could grace
With wreathing laurel, in Olympia's race;
Nor fleeter coursers swept the Pythian plain,
Renowned in daring Pindar's deathless strain.
See, how they shift, and paw, with trembling heart,
And lose a thousand steps before they start.

When, robed in emerald vest, awakening spring
Invites the flowers to spread, and birds to sing,

Fair Glasgow pours her wealthy merchants round,
Whose numerous villas crowd the fertile ground.
So once imperial Rome indignant saw
Her chiefs, who held the subject-world in awe,
Retiring to Campania's fair retreats,
To Baian plains, or old Tarentum's seats.
Yet softer Clyde's, where subterranean ire
Ne'er darts the bursts of dark sulphureous fire;
Which deep entomb the swarthy peasant's toil,
And parch to ashes all the burning soil.

Yet summer's heat drives frequent to the pool
The active youth, their glowing limbs to cool.
They dive, and distant far emerge again,
Or easy float along the liquid plain;
While curling waves around their bodies twine,
Through which their limbs like polished marble shine.
Now with strong arms they strive against the tide;
Now, oaring swiftly, with the current glide.
So the bold Roman, ere he slept, would cross
The Tiber thrice, nor feared his rapid force;
Then, vigorous from the flood, would, striving, strain
His well-braced nerves on Mavors' sacred plain;
Or choose the chief which should the world command,
Or for red conquest train the youthful band.

So, where Clyde's silver currents smoothly glide,
And ample lawns extend on every side,
The Clydesdale heroes, bright in arms, are seen
To rival Rome's, in force and awful mien.
While, robed in red, fierce flame the lengthened lines,
From their bright arms a dreadful splendor shines;
While tubes that, distant, drive the death unseen,
Or gleaming swords flash terror o'er the Green;
As if their leader sent through all his soul,
Just to his motion moves the obedient whole;
Thousands at once, a thousand different ways,
Yet none confused, or, straggling, vaguely strays:
Forth, at one glance, the levelled tubes are thurst;
At once, from all, the volleyed thunders burst:
At once the riders from their steeds descend;
The obedient steeds their motions still attend.

Here barefoot beauties lightly trip along;
Their snowy labours all the verdure throng:
The linen some with rosy fingers rub,
And the white foam o'erflows the smoking tub:
Her snowy feet another nimbly plies,
Whence other charms in fair proportion rise.
Hence, ye profane! and tremble to descry
The graceful nymphs with loose unhallowed eye:

Their bright approach impurity refines;
At every touch the linen brighter shines,
Whether they bathe it in the crystal wave,
Or from the stream the whitening surges lave,
Or from the painted cann the fountain pour,
Softly descending in a shining shower;
Till, as it lies, its fair transparent hue
Shows like a lily dipt in morning dew.

As shines the moon among the lesser fires,
Unrivalled Glasgow lifts her stately spires:
For Commerce, glorious with her golden crown,
Has marked fair Glasgow for her favourite town:
She makes her stately edifices thrive,
And merchants rich, in princely splendor live;
Extends her spacious streets on every side,
And bids her poor in palaces reside.

Where royal Nassau rides aloft, and round
His daring brows a wreath of laurels bound,
As in a common centre, meet combined
Four spacious streets, which stretch to every wind:
The distant buildings vanish from the view,
Nor can the weary eye their length pursue.

Lofty and large the stately temples rise,
Fit for His worship who spread out the skies.

This charms with beauty regular and chaste,
And elegance correct of Grecian taste.
The comely parts exact proportion show,
And to one whole by fit connections grow.
Corinthian columns the fair walls adorn;
Light seems the lofty frame, and easy borne.
That labours with the vast and cumbrous load
Of various ornaments, profuse bestowed:
Huge pillars heave to a stupendous height,
Their Gothic grandeur's vast unwieldy weight:
The pile the rich unpolished genius shows
Of that wild daring age in which it rose.

Round these fair courts, where stately structures rise,
And that ascending spire salutes the skies;
Fair truth displays, in all her native light,
Resistless charms, celestially bright!
And gently leads the willing mind along,
As charmed with sweetness of angelic song:
The atheist learns his Maker to adore;
Ashamed, the wicked wish to sin no more.

Here dwell the muses: In their sacred halls,
Soft as descending dew their doctrine falls.
Rome's ancient heroes, marshalled for the sight,
Tremendous rise in pure historic light;

Or shine in daring Lucan's manly strain,
Who sung of freedom in a tyrant's reign.

Still in Greek annals live their mighty dead:
The whole we see—and feel whate'er we read.
But if great Homer's martial trumpet sound,
Then troops expire, and heroes bite the ground;
Steeds neigh, swords gleam, darts hiss, and helmets nod,
And hills of carnage dam the streams of blood.

A muse more sacred, next the roll expands,
Which shook tall Sinai, and his heaving sands:
From tented hosts on Edom's sultry plain,
O'er Egypt's warriors wakes the exulting strain:
Impetuous chieftains Judah's God defy,
As fierce Rabsaces lifts his voice on high:
“March on, ye hosts, by great Sennacherib led,
And tread each river from its marshy bed.
Hark how the cedars of the mountain fall;
The lofty mound o'ertops proud Salem's wall;
While, as the clouds of arrows blot the day,
Like mildewed grass, the Hebrew tribes decay.”

And here the sage, by reason's power refined,
Anatomizes all the tribes of mind;
Her various powers and faculties explores;
How she collects, how treasures wisdom's stores.—

Or shows how, launched, the wandering comet runs,
Through different systems, circling different suns;
How countless suns are sown through boundless space,
And worlds around them roll with rapid race.

Blest they who nature's secret wonders scan,
Which unprofaned she hides from vulgar man;
Whose raptured minds, with piercing skill, can trace
The circling fluids through their mazy race;
See through what channels, nature upward heaves
The nourishment of flowers, of fruits, and leaves;
What strainers separate each; what wondrous art
May due consistencies, and forms impart;
The curious texture of the tubes survey,
And from the pores see subtle odours play:
How the firm bones their strength and grandeur lend,
And vitals soft from injury defend;
How principles, by nature prone to strife,
Kindly conspire to the support of life:
Impelled through all the complicated frame,
How rapid fluids feed the vital flame:
Whence on the face the glowing beauties rise,
And all the soul beams genuine from the eyes.

That curious chemist mark! whose keen desire
Examines nature by tormenting fire;

And not content her form divine to view,
Dares search her inmost soul by torture too.
In vain the artful goddess would escape,
By changing colour, and by shifting shape,
Discovered still, through all her mazes chased,
Her deepest secrets are disclosed at last.

Ye sacred Muses! who my soul inspire
With true devotion, and with fame's desire;
From earliest youth, though stern and adverse fate
Has chained me distant from your sacred seat;
Yet on that seat may every power divine
Propitious smile, and bid your glory shine
O'er all the earth, and, as from Athens, rise
Till your immortal splendors fill the skies.

But while sage learning claims the student's care,
More gay assemblies call the gay and fair.
At once the shining street moves all alive;
Chair urges chair, and chaises chaises drive;
Where aukward fops the glittering beaux envy;
Olivia sickens at Belinda's eye;
Artful coquets alluring glances wield,
And rakes expect the coyest prudes to yield.

If churches are not sanctuaries found,
But beaux will sigh, and beauty's glances wound;

What thrilling tremors must the soul invade,
When dancing fires, and melting airs persuade;
When every potent charm of shape and face,
From dress and motion draws resistless grace!
But happier they who temperate mirth approve,
Who joy with reason, and with virtue love;
Who unelated taste of bliss below,
And firmly bear inevitable woe:
For still when pleasure gilds the smiling scene,
The sabler hues of woe will intervene.

Mark where the wedding-guests in order move,
Arrayed in white, and breathing joy and love:
The bride her timid wishes seems to speak,
By the faint blush that trembles on her cheek;
The music leads, the maidens haste away,
With dance and banquet to conclude the day.

The mournful funeral, slow, proceeds behind,
Arrayed in black, the heavy head declined:
Wide yawns the grave; dull tolls the solemn bell;
Dark lie the dead; and long the last farewell:
There music sounds, and dancers shake the hall;
But here the silent tears incessant fall.
Ere mirth can well her comedy begin,
The tragic demon oft comes thundering in,

Confounds the actors, damps the merry show,
And turns the loudest laugh to deepest woe.

But hush, my muse! thy moral sisters frown,
Wear thy wild flowers, nor hope a nobler crown:
Enough for thee thy rural haunts to prize,
Where scenes so mournful seldom wound our eyes;
Where soft and calm the happy moments flow,
And distant far are heard the sounds of woe.
But ah! the wounds so seldom felt sink deep,
And ears unharassed long the sound will keep.
Who heeds distress, or hears the mourner's sigh,
Where bustling crowds bid sage reflection fly?
Justled and pressing through the crowded street,
Where cart stops cart, and burdens burdens meet,
Where hammered anvil, carriage, frame, and loom,
Far-sounding bell, loud mill, and thundering drum,
Rudely at once the tortured ear invade,
In deafening sounds, tumultuously conveyed:
Where shining shops display their tempting doors;
Where trade presents to sight her precious stores;
Where on the 'Change the gay-drest merchant shines,
The wretch unheeded in the dungeon pines.

Lo! as each ancient edifice retires,
Taller and taller shoot the stately spires:

So far the domes which modern riches raise
Transcend the cells of good St. Mungo's days!
Prophetic seer, whose visionary eye
Saw Glasgow's glory in the future lie;
The venerable sage, whom long of yore
To Scotia's heir a Pictish princess bore,
But, nursed in secret in a hermit's cell,
To heaven resigned, he bade the world farewell,
Save when he called the scaly brood, to bring,
From the dark stream, his mother's plighted ring.

Let Glasgow flourish! still in grandeur rise,
Still rear her stately fabrics to the skies;
In trade and riches rise, by swift degrees,
To rival London, empress of the seas:
Still may her ships to distant regions run,
Beyond the rising or the setting sun,
Till Clyde's broad bosom can no longer greet
The rolling tide that wafts the passing fleet.

Kelvin, a stream that slept inglorious long,
Shall rise to fame, and shine in future song;
Where sable artists match the ancient fame
Of Lemnos, or of Ætna's mightier name;
Who bend the stubborn steel in smouldering fire,
Rend it to rods, or wring to ductile wire:

Enormous tubes, like roaring tempests, sound;
Loud ring the anvils as the blows go round:
Scarce Ætna saw a more tremendous sight,
Her red cells glowing with infernal light;
Where, drenched with sweat, with smoking sulphur dun,
Toiled her vast brood, who never saw the sun:
Nor e'er were forged in Ætna's dreary caves,
Where the red lava rolls his burning waves,
More awful weapons of destructive might,
Than those dire tubes that thin the ranks of fight.

Through Carron's channel, now with Kelvin joined,
The wondering barks a ready passage find:
The ships, on swelling billows wont to rise,
On solid mountains climb to scale the skies;
Old ocean sees the fleets forsake his floods,
Sail the firm land, the mountains and the woods;
And safely thus conveyed, they dread no more
Rough northern seas which round the Orkneys roar.

Not thus the wave of Forth was joined to Clyde,
When Rome's broad rampart stretched from tide to tide,
With bulwarks strong, with towers sublimely crowned,
While winding tubes conveyed each martial sound.
To guard the legions from their painted foes,
By vast unwearied toil the rampire rose;

When, fierce in arms, the Scot, by Carron's shore,
Resigned, for war, the chace and mountain boar;
As the chaffed lion, on his homeward way,
Returns for vengeance, and forgets the prey.
By Camelon's towers, with Pictish splendor crowned,
And ancient grandeur, stretched the mighty mound;
Swept with broad trench o'er Falkirk's fatal plain,
Still red with gore of Scotian heroes slain;
Where dauntless Bute, with his brave Brandons, stood,
Till the wide plain was slippery with their blood;
Where gallant Graham, devoted, scorned to fly;
And Wallace saw his fairest laurels die.

But Carron's bank a fairer fame may crave,
Than from a chieftain's death, or hero's grave.
For Eastern wealth shall here with Western meet,
And both the Indies load the bending fleet;
The English tar shall, frowning, turn his eye,
From fields of battle where his fathers lie;
Dread Bannockburn, to Scots the dearest boast,
Of fields most fatal to an English host;
Where Bruce claimed freedom, or a glorious grave;
Nor victory could desert a band so brave;
And Norman Edward saw his standards fall,
Like Rome's proud trophies, on the Roman wall;

When elder Graham led on his mountain band,
And razed the rampart broad from strand to strand.

From Graham a fruitful race of heroes springs,
Dreadful in war! and true to Scotia's kings;
But great Montrose stands foremost of the line,
A chief with ancient heroes doomed to shine;
Fate in his arm, his very name an host,
His conquering standards flew from coast to coast.

Where Scotstown shines afar with snowy light,
And beauteous Renfield captivates the sight,
His ample mirror Clyde to both displays,
Where each her image with delight surveys:
So at one glass two rival beauties stand,
Their charms admiring, one on either hand:
Now self-approved, each looks with lofty scorn;
Now sinks each bosom, with black envy torn:
Now triumph flashes from each lovely eye;
Now pride, desponding, heaves the unwilling sigh.

Where the proud bridge on stately arches rides,
And from his height surveys the slumbering tides,
No motion dares his amorous sloth molest,
Or ruffle Renfield's image on the breast
Of tranquil Cart, who holds his silent way
Where Cathcart's race maintain their ancient sway.

Of all the clans that grace fair Renfrew's soil,
The first in power appears the potent Lyle,
Whose blood with graceful Eglinton's still blends,
In Pollock's veins and Houston's still descends.
The Dennistons, of ancient wealth and fame;
The Crawfords brave, an old illustrious name!
Lindsay's high blood with ancient Barclay's joins,
And first of Scotish Earls in glory shines.
Here Wallace shone, a race of matchless might,
Gentle in peace, but terrible in fight!
The fame of Wallace never can expire,
While Scotish breasts heroic deeds admire.
And friendship hither Ross from England drew,
The royal Bruce's fortunes to pursue:
And hence the faithful race of Erskine springs,
Marr's lords, the guardians of our youthful kings;
To whom an ancient nation dared intrust
Their future hopes, and ever found them just.
But high o'er all, the chiefs of Banquo's race,
Illustrious Stewarts dignified the place.

Here, raised upon a verdant mount sublime,
To heaven complaining of the wrongs of time,
And ruthless force of sacrilegious hands,
Crookstone, their ancient seat, in ruins stands;

Nor Clyde's whole course an ampler prospect yields,
Of spacious plains, and well improven fields;
Which, here, the gently rising hills surround,
And, there, the cloud-supporting mountains bound;
Now fields with stately dwellings thronger charged,
And populous cities, by their trade enlarged.
Here youthful Shaws, by vigorous industry,
Aspires in fame with ancient towns to vie;
Fair Paisley imitates, who justly boasts
Her manufactures, famed on foreign coasts:
For fine invention o'er the work presides,
And neat dexterity the shuttle guides.

By Crookstone Castle waves the still-green yew,
The first that met the royal Mary's view,
When, bright in charms, the youthful princess led
The graceful Darnley to her throne and bed:
Embossed in silver, now, its branches green
Transcend the myrtle of the Paphian queen.

But dark Langside, from Crookstone viewed afar,
Still seems to range in pomp the rebel war.
Here, when the moon rides dimly through the sky,
The peasant sees broad dancing standards fly,
And one bright female form, with sword and crown,
Still grieves to view her banners beaten down.

But Finlayston demands the choicest lays;
A generous muse's theme in former days,
When soft Montgomery poured the rural lay;
Whether he sung the vermeil dawn of day,
Or, in the mystic wreath, to soothe his woe,
Twined the red cherry with the sable sloe;
Each charming sound resistless love inspired;
Soft love, resistless, every bosom fired;
Of love the waters murmured in their fall;
And echo sounds of love returned to all:
Trembling with love, the beauteous scene imprest
Its amorous image on the Firth's fair breast;
The scene, ennobled by the lofty dome,
Where great Glencairn has fixed his splendid home;
Whose breast the firm integrity inspires,
And scorn of slavery, that adorned his fires.

When daring Becket, with rebellious pride,
The English Henry's majesty defied,
The power of Rome against his sovereign led,
Aiming her thunders at his sacred head;
Then, near the throne, to guard the monarch, stood
A youth of Scotish Morville's lofty blood:
From his bold hand the felon found his doom;
And when the monarch meanly bent to Rome,

His brave avenger sought his native plain,
Where dauntless freedom holds eternal reign:
From him the faithful Cunninghams descend;
Still first their country's freedom to defend.

See, old Alclutha to the sight displays
Her rock, impregnable in ancient days;
Frowns like old Ilium, mid her waters placed,
Its base by Clyde and Leven's tide embraced:
From the broad stream its whitening summits rise,
Like famed Parnassus, towering to the skies.

And here, remote, the Latian muses came,
When Italy had lost her former fame.
As on this new Parnassus they repose,
Their sacred spring between its summits rose;
They bade the rock that far-famed thistle yield,
Which glorious shines in Scotia's warlike shield;
And on the margin of Levina's flood,
Their temple, famed for ancient learning, stood.

Buchanan sweeps the sweet Horatian lyre,
With Latian softness, and with Grecian fire;
Or, while historic themes his soul engage,
Shines forth the Livy of each modern age.
In later days, here dauntless Smollett rose,
Who sung with filial ardour Scotia's woes;

100

Who, like Buchanan in the historic page,
Fearless pourtrayed the crimes of every age.

Here Cambria's monarchs held their mighty reign,
Till Rome's proud eagles seized their fair domain.
When Fingal, first of men, his warriors led
From Morven's hills to Carron's sedgy bed,
With him was Oscar swift, Diarmed strong,
And Ossian, master of the tuneful song:
With dark disdain, the mountain heroes eyed
The troops of Cambria on the tyrant's side:
They bade the blast howl round the ruined walls,
And beasts obscene frequent the lonely halls:
From shattered spires the screaming owls were heard;
Howling through windows waste the wolf appeared;
Till Leven's stream, that scorns by slow degrees
To rise, but from its source a river sees,
Rushed on resistless, with ungoverned force,
And swept the ancient bulwarks in its course;
From their firm seats their deep foundations tore,
And sunk the ruins, to be seen no more.

How wide the lake in limpid beauty smiles,
Round the green yews that shade the Lomond isles;
While proud Benlomond rises huge and vast,
To bar eternally the northern blast.

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That charming isle! the distant sight deceives,
Which floats, like Delos, on the ambient waves:
There Delos' god, deceived, first pours his beams,
The dome so like his ancient temple seems.

Clyde, now a sea, affects a wide command,
And far his mighty arms invade the land;
Far pour his lakes, and pierce the solid ground!
Scarce their wide sway the heathy mountains bound;
Where Campbells, sprung of old O'Dubin's race,
Old as their hills, still rule their native place.
No ancient chief could, like O'Dubin, wield
The weighty war, or range the embattled field;
Unmoving bear the shock of charging foes,
Pierce thronged battalions, or their ranks inclose.
Hence the admiring Gaul, preserved in fight
From furious Normans by the hero's might,
Him Campbell called; and no heroic name
Is farther heard, or better known to fame.

Descended from the same illustrious line,
See noble Loudon, first of heroes, shine:
Far distant realms his matchless prowess own,
Who propped the tottering Lusitanian throne.
Mark Ardencaple, noble Frederick's seat;
A chief politely wise, humanely great:

102

But fairer Roseneath's towers, where, spreading wide,
Rolls on the mighty majesty of Clyde,
From Lennox hills, which, towering, prop the sky,
To where his fleets in spacious harbours lie;
Where, crowned with wood, fair hills embrace the bay,
Where Newport smiles in youthful lustre gay;

Where the broad marsh, a shuddering surface, lies,
Fair Greenock's spires in new-born beauty rise;
And many an infant city rises round,
Emerging swiftly from the teeming ground;
So poets tell, that by prolific Nile,
Whole nations issued from the marshy soil;
And if the muse can future fates divine,
They all at last in one vast port shall join;
While groves of masts aloft in ether rise,
And cordage warping wide obscures the skies.
As in the film-winged bee's industrious hive,
Some stretch their wings for flight, and some arrive,
Some treasure in their cells the golden store,
And some, adventurous, sail in quest of more;
So fleets arriving here with every gale,
Within the port shall drop the flying sail;
While some departing shall their wings display,
To greet the rising, or the falling day;

103

While foreign wealth by busy hands is stored,
Or British manufactures borne aboard:
Arabia far shall send her rich perfumes;
Persia the shining product of her looms;
With spices kindled in hot Ceylon's air,
And China's painted vases for the fair.

But let the sailors shun the faithless shore
Behind the Cumbrays, where white surges roar;
Bend to the east, where Clyde runs dark and deep,
His borders edged with precipices steep;
Where in a sweet recess, by hills embraced,
Ardgowan's chieftain has his mansion placed;
Its view extending o'er the western main,
Where isles unnumbered deck the liquid plain.

Where Bute's green bosom spreads to meet the day,
Round Rothsay's towers the morning sun-beams play,
That, like her chief, superior and serene,
Smiles o'er the murmurs of the curling main:
Mid groves with undiminished verdure gay,
She mocks the waves, and laughs the storms away;
And bids her Brandons, mid the ranks of fame,
Aspiring rise, and claim a nation's name;
A Cambrian race, whose arms durst long deride
The Scotish laurels, and the Norman pride.

104

Opposed to Bute, upon the eastern shore,
Broad Largs expands, red with Norwegian gore;
Where, stern in arms, his forehead trenched with scars,
Stout Acho led the last of Lochlin's wars:
His peopled keels, the serpents of the main,
To stormy Norway never steered again:
In vain on Scotia's coast his legions poured,
Whelmed by the wave, or slaughtered by the sword;
Where with his peers, to guard his ancient throne,
Clad in bright steel, great Alexander shone.

Now Arran's hills their rocky summits show,
Crowned with dense mists, that shine like winter's snow.
Deep in the base a spacious cave is found,
By Fingal's proud immortal name renowned;
Where gallant Bruce and Douglas lurked concealed,
Till called by victory to the crimson field.
Far look thy mountains, Arran, o'er the main,
And far o'er Cunningham's extensive plain;
From Loudon hill, and Irvine's silver source,
Through all her links, they trace the river's course;
View many a town, in history's page enrolled;
Decayed Kilwinning, and Ardrossan old;
Kilmarnock low, that mid her plains retires,
And youthful Irvine that to fame aspires.

105

In neighbouring Kyle, our earliest annals boast,
Great Coilus fell, with all his British host:
His antique form, with silver shining bright,
In pleasant Caprington delights the sight.

From Carrick's coast, and Gallovidia's shores,
Clyde's ample sea in waves tremendous roars,
To where Kintyre, beneath the evening skies
Stretching a mighty length, among the billows lies.

See towering Ailsa o'er the waters rise;
Beneath the seas his deep foundation lies:
Hoarse round his rugged roots the ocean roars,
And high above the clouds his summit soars:
White wreaths of mist o'er his huge shoulders hang;
Round his strong sides unnumbered sea-fowls clang;
The royal falcon, and the bird of Jove,
Dare only scale the steep, and spread their wings above.

There late, sublime, the powers of ocean sate,
Spectators of the gallant Thurot's fate;
Whose generous soul beheld, with brave disdain,
His country's laurels blasted on the main.
Hark! as the sea-shrieks in confusion rise,
Through all his shores majestic Clyde replies;
Till, sinking slow, the mimic thunders fall,
And Elliot's genius triumphs o'er the Gaul.

106

Dear parent stream! may still thy happy plains
Rejoice in peace, and plenty bless thy swains;
May still thy daughters charm with every grace
Of mind, of manners, figure, air and face;
Still may thy fleets, by hardy seamen manned,
Extend fair Albion's sway from land to land;
As lately Phœbus, in his spacious round,
Saw, in each clime, our hosts with conquest crowned.
In vain proud Gallia poured her legions forth,
To match the iron warriors of the North:
The German plains were fattened with her blood,
Her commerce ruined, and her fleets subdued.
Her heroes slain, she trembles as she boasts,
While British thunders roar around her coasts.
And veteran Spain, who still the pride displays,
Without the vigour, of her happier days,
Beheld, with terror and amazement filled,
Manilla stormed, and strong Havannah yield:
Shrunk in dismay, where'er her flag unfurled,
Till Britain rose the umpire of the world.

At that bright era, as the festive sound
Of peace, loud echoed earth and ocean round,
Rose from his stream the majesty of Clyde,
His beauteous consort, Dara, by his side;

107

And round them every tributary flood;
Each leaning on his urn, attentive stood:
Glengonnar's dangerous stream was stained with lead;
Fillets of wool bound dark Dunneeten's head:
With corn-ears crowned, the sister Maidens rose,
And Mouse, whose mining stream in coverts flows;
Black Douglas, drunk by heroes far renowned,
And turbid Nethan's front, with alders bound;
Calder, with oak around his temples twined,
And Kelvin, Glasgow's boundary flood designed;
Cart's sombre stream, which deep and silent moves,
Where kings and queens of old indulged their loves;
Leven, which growth and infancy disdains,
Rushing in strength mature upon the plains.

To whom the parent flood: “My children dear,
The festive sounds of peace salute mine ear.
Henceforth our peaceful ports, from insult free,
Anchored secure, their loaded fleets shall see;
And, to my honour, happy worlds shall know,
They to a son of mine their safety owe;
Great Bute, who, warm with patriot zeal, arose,
To still wild war, and give the world repose:
And having done the good his heart desired,
Scorning reward, to shades obscure retired:

108

For all he valued was already given,
Approven of his soul, his prince, and heaven;
He calmly smiled. Eclipsed ambition raved
To see a world by worth superior saved.

Advance, ye Fates! bid future times display
Fair eras bright with many a glorious day;
When time shall ripen what the past began,
And freedom execute her mighty plan.
The savage tribes, with long benighted eyes,
Shall gaze on opening heaven with glad surprise:
Virtue and truth shall flourish unconfined,
And knowledge, nursed by freedom of the mind;
Till every race, in mutual love, conspire
To live as children of one common sire;
And grateful earth shall own these blessings given
By the kind care of Britain, and of Heaven;
The general anthem shall to Heaven ascend;
The world her stores to Britain's ports shall send;
From every sea, arriving fleets shall ride,
Proud of their wealth, and my broad bosom hide.”

The river said; and from the top ascends,
Sublime in air, and all his court attends,
To meet the sun's descent in western skies,
And mark the airy landscapes as they rise:

109

White mountain clouds, whose tops as bright appear
As Zembla's glittering frost-rocks hung in air:
Low sink well imitated vales between,
And shaggy cliffs o'er black abysses lean;
Woods shake on high the swift dissolving shade,
While towns, with spires and turrets fair, pourtrayed,
And magic castles lofty heaven invade.
Now, lively painted with the setting ray,
The shining clouds adorn departing day.
As Phœbus sinks serene in splendor bright,
Behind him flows a sea of golden light,
To tinge the skirts of clouds with purple glow,
And all the hues which gild the watery bow;
The various shades of light it ceaseless tries,
And, sunk at last in deepest sable, dies;
When, mild and soft, the evening dew descends,
As lovers' sighs, or words of parting friends.

But as he from the amber plains retires,
Brighter and stronger flame the heavenly fires;
And Phebe from the east, advancing bright,
Majestic moves along, the queen of night:
Benighted travellers bless her friendly rays;
From trembling streams a silver radiance plays:
To needful rest retire the nymphs and swains,
And solemn silence reigns o'er all the plains.

FINIS.