University of Virginia Library

INVOCATION.

Genius of Celtic Song! who, high enthroned
Amid Iona's hallowed sepulchres,
Hath dread communings with a buried world!
Thou, who disowning all Ausonia yields
To fix poetic gaze—on contrasts strong
Of ruined grandeur and luxurious life,
Art's noblest forms decaying—tantalized
By ever blooming Nature, (where the rose
Flaunts through the chasms of Antonius' wall,
And balmy breezes sport, and laughing suns
Shine, as in mockery, o'er the fallen domes
Where once the Cæsars swayed!) from these hast turned
With Spartan scorn thy tread, to rear a seat
Far in the lone Ebudæ; where, for voice
Of man or note of bird, no sound is heard
But the contending ocean's ceaseless roar
'Gainst the bold rock that dares oppose his force,
And breast, with craggy front, his onward way.
Genius of Celtic Song! if haunts like these
Have power to win thee from the southern muse—
If, wedded to thy country still, thy soul
Prefer that bride, unportioned though she be,
With cliffs and deserts only for her dower,
To Tuscan vineyards or Hindostan groves—
If Scotia's native ruggedness of clime
From all refinements of a richer soil
Still hold thy constant heart—take then this lay,
To Scotia consecrate! And should its tones
But wake one note accordant with the sounds
That oft have called thy mountain echoes forth
To speak the glories of thy native sons,
O, grant thine inspiration to the theme,
And give the muse that aid which can perform
Those miracles of chronicles and song—
Roll back the tide of far receded time,
Restore the Douglas days—awake the dead!