And when the lightning's flash athwart the gloom
Shot vivid, all was black; thy path it showed
Was lost, but showed no more. Now thick from
heaven
The chilling rain, and blast, descended sharp
Upon the tender victim: Helpless, save
The fading flower blown o'er the heath, unfit
For such a soil, the gardener's darling! Oh
Had but thy father found thee yet! Again
Tis calm; the flooded waters roar beneath,
And, overhead, the lightnings dart across
The dismal canopy. But, when the fen,
With vapours filled, sent forth its frightful flame,
In kindled air, its meteor from the marsh,
Its horrid gleam contrasted with the gloom;
Unable to withstand the shock, at length,
Back to its warm and feeling heart the blood
Retreated cold. She frantic runs ! Again
It glares! Her tender trembling limbs, alas!
Exhausted, and fatigued, can do no more,
And, sinking, yield!-Loud now the winds may blow,
At peace; the nipping blast can pinch no more!
The sighing reeds protect thy beauteous form,
Though bleaching lifeless; and thy floating shade
Attentive listens to the plaintive notes
Insensible of cold; itself composed
But, soon, this view so dull,
Beyond the Steel, and height of Symon's House,
Westward, below its site, presents itself,
Up from the HARBOUR CRAIG upon the left,
Winding in hasty turnings out of sight,
A deep, and narrow Glen, with rugged banks,
From yonder side of which, direct in view,
Sudden, 'midst broken fragments, bursting bright,
And tumbling from the bowels of the earth,
A pure, and rapid current briskly flows;
His entrance far above. Now, liberty
Regained, gay, sparkling, with a cheerful noise,
He runs to meet his dark and silent friend,
That, from the eastward, down the valley glides.
In union close, the coxcomb, and the sot,
Each to the other frankly yields a part,
And that they may be for each other fit,
They jointly steer a middle course between
The two extremes. Meandering through the vale
At last they join the past'ral Esk; and down
Its glen with wooded banks inclosed, about
The Steel, and Symon's House above't, stray on,
Amongst the glades and rocks, till round the Lake
They turn, and disappear. Ere this, beyond
The Steel descending to the north, and Esk,
From t'other side a stream, as bright as glass,
Falls spouting o'er a rock, within a dell
That opening branches off, then onward plays,
Till down again it pours, collected by
A circling cave that almost closes round
The bowl beneath, thence leaving only room,"
For passage strait, between its craggs, and woods,
To let it slily outward steal, when down
Another break it springs, and, round the stones,
And fragments darting, gains the Esk. Close by,
A rural Onstead stands, a shepherd's home,
And erst supposed the seat of honest Glaud.
'Tis here the haugh, or glade, commences, once
The plain on which a part of Cromwell's troops
By Monk commanded lay encamped, and hence
Monk's Haugh 'tis named to where it circles round
The Lake. No wonder, thus, that Cromwell, Monk,
And brave Montrose, the shepherds' future thoughts
Employed, when Symon, to his neighbour, first
Announced King Charles restored, (not dreaming,
then,
Of future persecutions,) and their Knight's
Return. Amidst the Pentland heights this dell,
That meets the haugh, begins, where, high upon
The rounded summit of a grassy hill,
A bloody skirmish with Monk's soldiers rose
In which the leader fell, o'er whom a stone
Was placed that still remains, and from
The chief commander's name, that sent the force,
Though absent also there, Monk's Rig 'tis called *.
All to the north, and west, in varied hues,
* The popular accounts of these names, adopted by Ramsay
And shapes, the high and fleecy Pentlands rise,
And terminate the view. Here, blithsome bard,
You laid your rural scenes, so fitly chose.
Here, Ramsay, did thy Gentle Shepherd feed
His gentler flock, and, with his bashful friend,
Lie basking in the sun, and light, and gay,
Laugh o'er his amorous tale: whilst playful, fresh,
And blooming as the rose, his lovely maid,
Upon the "flowery howm," with Jenny shy,
Sweetly convers'd, oft, by the "burnie clear,"
"Trotting and wimpling" thro' the verdant grass;
Or farther up the glen, at "HABBIE'S HOW,"
That still retains its form, and rustic name,
Beauteous as from the hand of Nature pure,
Unknown to him, timid and watchful, bath'd
Her charming limbs in the encircling pool.
Cheerful, and artless, is thy native strain!
Hence oft, delighted, may the rustic swain,
"Beneath the south side of a Craigy Bield,"
Read o'er thy pleasing scenes, and reading learn
To follow out the simple, honest life,
THE ONLY SOURCE OF GENUINE HAPPINESS.
poem is copied from the ob jects around the perforated rock, or hermitage, and mineral well, between the " Howm," or Washing Green behind New-Hall House, and the Squirrel's Haugh on the Esk, above it.-See the Map, and Descriptions of the Views.
"About two leagues from Fribourg, we went to see a hermitage; it lies in the prettiest solitude imaginable, among woods, and rocks."
"And may, at last, my weary age
"Find out the peaceful hermitage,
"The hairy gown, and mossy cell,
"Where I may sit, and rightly spell
"Of every star the sky doth shew,
"And every herb that sips the dew."
IN days of yore, when common sense retired,
And only superstition grossly reigned,
In penance often men withdrew from sight,
Trusting that pleasure would come after pain.
By poverty, and stripes, and watchings long,
By checks increased, severities renewed,
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