 | Tales, in verse and miscellaneous poems |  |
Miscellaneous Pieces.
178
COMPLIMENTARY VERSES TO THE AUTHOR OF THE THISTLE,
A SONG ON THE FATE OF THE STEWARTS.
Peace rest in thy dwelling, thou true Son of Song,
That sing'st by the banks of the Cree;
Thou strik'st the bold numbers, thy grey rocks among,
And sweet sound thy harp-strings to me.
That sing'st by the banks of the Cree;
Thou strik'st the bold numbers, thy grey rocks among,
And sweet sound thy harp-strings to me.
Thus lofty and lonely still let thy notes rise,
And tell of the times that are past;
They soothe the lone bosom in secret that sighs,
Like the wild-passing sound of the blast.
And tell of the times that are past;
They soothe the lone bosom in secret that sighs,
Like the wild-passing sound of the blast.
I see Caledonia descend in her car,
Thy brows to encircle with bays;
Tho' low lies her crest, like yon dim-setting star,
Her “Thistle” shall live in thy lays.
Thy brows to encircle with bays;
Tho' low lies her crest, like yon dim-setting star,
Her “Thistle” shall live in thy lays.
| Tales, in verse and miscellaneous poems | |