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VIII.

STEPPING WESTWARD. [Composed between 1803-1805.-Published 1807.] While my Fellow-traveller and I were walking by the side of Loch Ketterine, one fine evening after sunset, in our road to a Hut where, in the course of our Tour, we had been hospitably entertained some weeks before, we met, in one of the loneliest parts of that solitary region, two well-dressed Women, one of whom said to us, by way of greeting, "What, you are stepping westward?"

"WHAT, you are stepping westward?"

"Yea."

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Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:

A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?-
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:

Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

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X.

ADDRESS TO KILCHURN CASTLE,
UPON LOCH AWE.

[Composed II. 1-3, 1803; finished "long after."-
Published 1827.]

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All that he holds in common with the stars,
To the memorial majesty of Time
Impersonated in thy calm decay!
Take, then, thy seat, Vicegerent unre-
proved!

Now, while a farewell gleam of evening
light

Is fondly lingering on thy shattered front, Do thou, in turn, be paramount; and rule 26 Over the pomp and beauty of a scene Whose mountains, torrents, lake, and woods, unite

"From the top of the hill a most impressive scene opened upon our view,—a ruined Castle on an Island (for an Island the flood had made it) at some distance from the shore, backed by a Cove of the Mountain Cruachan, down which came a foaming stream. The Castle occupied every foot of the Island that was visible to us, To pay thee homage; and with these are appearing to rise out of the water,-mists rested upon the mountain side, with spots of sunshine; there was a mild desolation in the low grounds, a solemn grandeur in the mountains, and the Castle was wild, yet stately-not dismantled of turrets-nor the walls broken down, though obviously a ruin."-Extract from the Journal of my Companion.

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joined,

In willing admiration and respect,
Two Hearts, which in thy presence might
be called

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Youthful as Spring.-Shade of departed
Power,

Skeleton of unfleshed humanity,
The chronicle were welcome that should
call

Into the compass of distinct regard
The toils and struggles of thy infant
years!

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Yon foaming flood seems motionless as ice;
Its dizzy turbulence eludes the eye,
Frozen by distance; so, majestic Pile,
To the perception of this Age, appear
Thy fierce beginnings, softened and sub-
dued

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And quieted in character-the strife,
The pride, the fury uncontrollable,
Lost on the aerial heights of the Cru-
sades !1

XI.

ROB ROY'S GRAVE.

[Composed between September, 1803-April, 1805. -Published 1807.]

The history of Rob Roy is sufficiently known;
his grave is near the head of Loch Ketterine,
in one of those small pinfold-like Burial-
grounds, of neglected and desolate appearance,
which the traveller meets with in the High-
lands of Scotland.

A FAMOUS man is Robin Hood,
The English ballad-singer's joy!

1 The tradition is, that the Castle was built by a Lady during the absence of her Lord in Palestine.

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"All freakishness of mind is checked; 45 He tamed, who foolishly aspires;

While to the measure of his might

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Each fashions his desires.

'All kinds, and creatures, stand and fall By strength of prowess or of wit: 50 'Tis God's appointment who must sway, And who is to submit.

"Since, then, the rule of right is plain, And longest life is but a day;

To have my ends, maintain my rights, 55 I'll take the shortest way."

And thus among these rocks he lived, Through summer heat and winter snow: The Eagle, he was lord above,

And Rob was lord below.

So was it would, at least, have been
But through untowardness of fate;
For Polity was then too strong-
He came an age too late;

Or shall we say an age too soon?
For, were the bold Man living now,
How might he flourish in his pride,
With buds on every bough!

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That they should take, who have the Becoming that mankind should learn

power,

And they should keep who can.

"A lesson that is quickly learned,
A signal this which all can see!
Thus nothing here provokes the strong
To wanton cruelty.

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That we are not to be surpassed
In fatherly concern.

"Of old things all are over old,

Of good things none are good enough:We'll show that we can help to frame

A world of other stuff.

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YARROW UNVISITED.

[Composed 1803.-Published 1807.]

See the various Poems the scene of which is laid
upon the banks of the Yarrow; in particular,
the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton beginning-
"Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride,
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome Marrow!"
FROM Stirling castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;

Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travelled;
And when we came to Clovenford,
Then said my "winsome Marrow,"
"Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside,
And see the Braes of Yarrow."
"Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town,
Who have been buying, selling,
Go back to Yarrow, 'tis their own;
Each maiden to her dwelling!

On Yarrow's banks let herons feed,
Hares couch, and rabbits burrow!

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But we will downward with the Tweed, 15 Nor turn aside to Yarrow.

"There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs, Both lying right before us;

And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed

The lintwhites sing in chorus;

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Enough if in our hearts we know

There's such a place as Yarrow.

"Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown!

It must, or we shall rue it:

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We have a vision of our own;

Ah! why should we undo it?

The treasured dreams of times long past,
We'll keep them, winsome Marrow!
For when we're there, although 'tis fair,
Twill be another Yarrow!

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"If Care with freezing years should come,
And wandering seem but folly,—
Should we be loth to stir from home,
And yet be melancholy;

Should life be dull, and spirits low,
"Twill soothe us in our sorrow,
That earth hath something yet to show,
The bonny holms of Yarrow!"

1 See Hamilton's Ballad as above.

XV.

THE MATRON OF JEDBOROUGH
AND HER HUSBAND.

[Composed between 1803-1805.-Published 1807.]
At Jedborough, my companion and I went into
private lodgings for a few days; and the fol-
lowing Verses were called forth by the charac-
ter and domestic situation of our Hostess.
AGE! twine thy brows with fresh spring
flowers,

And call a train of laughing Hours;
And bid them dance, and bid them sing;
And thou, too, mingle in the ring!
Take to thy heart a new delight;

60 If not, make merry in despite

That there is One who scorns thy power:-
But dance! for under Jedborough Tower
A Matron dwells who, though she bears
The weight of more than seventy years, 10
Lives in the light of youthful glee,
And she will dance and sing with thee.

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