.362 of the poem opens with the state of Spaiu previous to the unparallered treachery of Bounaparte; gives a sketch of the usurpation attempted upon that unsuspicious and friendly kingdom, and terminates with the arrival of the British succours. It may be farther proper to mention, that the object of the poem is less to commemorate or detail particular incidents, than to exhibit a general and impre sive picture of the several periods brought upon the stage. I am too sensible of the respect due to the Public, especially by one who has already experienced more than ordinary indulgence, to offer any apology for the inferiority of the poetry to the subject it is chiefly designed to comme morate. Yet I think it proper to mention, that, while I was hastily executing a work, written for a temporary purpose, and on passing events, the task was most cruelly interr pted by the successive deaths of Lord President Blair, and Lord Viscount Melville. In those distinguished characters, I had not only to regret persons whose lives were most important to Scotland, but also whose notice and patronage honoured my entrance upon active life; and I may add, with melancholy pride who permitted my more advanced age to claim no common share in their friendship. Under such interruptions, the following verses, which my best and happiest efforts must have left far unworthy of their theme, have, I am myself sensible, an appearance of negligence and coherence, which, in other circumstances, I might have been able to remove. EDINBURGH, June 24th, 1811. THE VISION OF DON RODERICK, Quid dignum memorare tuis,Hispania, terris, LIVES there a strain, whose sounds of mounting fire, Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar, II. Yes! such a strain,, with all-o'erpowering measure, The thundering cry of hosts with conquest crown'd, . The shout of captives from their chains unbound, III: But we weak minstrels of a laggard day, The debt thou claim'st in this exhausted age? A theme; a theme for Milton's mighty handHow much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band. IV. Ye mountains stern! within whose rugged breast, Say, have ye lost each wild majestic close, What time their hymn of victory arose, And Cattraeth's glens with voice of triumph rung, And mystic Merlin harp'd, and grey-hair'd Llywarch surg ས. O! if your wilds suck minstrelsy retain, As sure your changeful gales seem oft to say, When sweeping wild and sinking soft again, Like trumpet-jubilee, or harp's wild sway; If ye can echo such triumphant lay, Then lend the note to him has loved you long Who pious gather'd each tradition grey, That floats your solitary wastes along, And with affection vain gave them new voice in song VI. For not till now, how. oft soe'er the task Careless he gave his numbers to the air, They came unsought for, if applauses came; Nor for himself prefers he now the prayer; Let but his verse befit a hero's fame, Immortal be the verse, forgot the poet's name. Hark, from yon misty cairn their answer toss'd: Since our grey cliffs the din of conflict knew, VIIL "Decay'd our old traditionary lore, Save where the lingering fays renew their ring, By milk-maid scen beneath the hawthorn hoar, Or round the marge of Minchmore's haunted springs. And rugged deeds recount in rugged line, IX. "No! search romantic lands, where the ncer sun Her eye of diamond, and her locks of jet; "Explore those regions, where the flinty crest Or where the banners of more ruthless foes Than the fierce Moor, float o'er. Toledo's fane, From whose tall towers even now the patriot throws An anxious glance, to spy upon the plain The blended ranks of England, Portugal, and Spain. XL "There, of Numantian fire a swarthy spark Beam not, as once, thy nobles' dearest pride, Iberia! oft thy crestless peasantry Have seen the plumed Hidalgo quit their side; Have seen, yet dauntless stood-gainst fortune fought and died. XIL "And cherish'd still by that unchanging race, Go, seek such theme!"-the Mountain Spirit said: With filial awe I heard-I heard, and I obey'd Rearing their crests amid the cloudless skies, As from a trembling lake of silver white; II. All save the rushing swell of Teio's tide, Or, distant hear, a courser's neigh or tramp; |