The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden with Memoirs of his Life, by the Rev. James Morton |
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TO MR. JAMES PURVIS. |
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 | The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden |  |
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TO MR. JAMES PURVIS.
Purvis, when on this eastern strand
With glad surprise I grasp thy hand,
And memory's, fancy's, powers employ
In the form'd man to trace the boy;
How many dear illusions rise,
And scenes long faded from my eyes,
Since first our bounding steps were seen
Active and light on Denholm's level green!
With glad surprise I grasp thy hand,
And memory's, fancy's, powers employ
In the form'd man to trace the boy;
How many dear illusions rise,
And scenes long faded from my eyes,
Since first our bounding steps were seen
Active and light on Denholm's level green!
Playmate of boyhood's ardent prime!
Rememberest thou, in former time
How oft we bade, in fickle freak,
Adieu to Latin terms and Greek,
To trace the banks where blackbirds sung,
And ripe brown nuts in clusters hung,
Where tangled hazels twined a screen
Of shadowy boughs in Denholm's mazy Dean?
Rememberest thou, in former time
How oft we bade, in fickle freak,
Adieu to Latin terms and Greek,
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And ripe brown nuts in clusters hung,
Where tangled hazels twined a screen
Of shadowy boughs in Denholm's mazy Dean?
Rememberest thou, in youthful might
Who foremost dared the mimic fight,
And, proud to feel his sinews strung,
Aloft the knotted cudgel swung;
Or fist to fist, with gore embrued,
The combat's wrathful strife pursued,
With eager heart, and fury keen,
Amid the ring on Denholm's bustling green?
Who foremost dared the mimic fight,
And, proud to feel his sinews strung,
Aloft the knotted cudgel swung;
Or fist to fist, with gore embrued,
The combat's wrathful strife pursued,
With eager heart, and fury keen,
Amid the ring on Denholm's bustling green?
Yes, it was sweet, till fourteen years
Had circled with the rolling spheres.
Then round our heads the tempest sleet
Of fretful cares began to beat;
As to our several paths we drew,
The cold wind of the stranger blew
Cold on each face—and hills between
Our step uptower'd and Denholm's lovely green.
Had circled with the rolling spheres.
Then round our heads the tempest sleet
Of fretful cares began to beat;
As to our several paths we drew,
The cold wind of the stranger blew
Cold on each face—and hills between
Our step uptower'd and Denholm's lovely green.
When the gay shroud and swelling sail
Bade each bold bosom court the gale;
The first that tried the eastern sea
Was Gavin, gentle youth, was he!
His yellow locks fann'd by the breeze,
Gleam'd golden on the orient seas:
But never shall his steps be seen
Bounding again on Denholm's pleasant green.
Bade each bold bosom court the gale;
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Was Gavin, gentle youth, was he!
His yellow locks fann'd by the breeze,
Gleam'd golden on the orient seas:
But never shall his steps be seen
Bounding again on Denholm's pleasant green.
We both have seen the ruddy tide
Of battle surging fierce and wide;
And mark'd with firm unconquer'd soul
The blackest storms of ocean roll;
While many a sun-ray, tipt with death,
Has fall'n like lightning on our path;
Yet, if a bard presage aright, I ween,
We both shall live to dance once more on Denholm's green.
Of battle surging fierce and wide;
And mark'd with firm unconquer'd soul
The blackest storms of ocean roll;
While many a sun-ray, tipt with death,
Has fall'n like lightning on our path;
Yet, if a bard presage aright, I ween,
We both shall live to dance once more on Denholm's green.
| The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden | |