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A hapless child of grief to hail,

The Hermit on the Inks of Cree!

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These moorlands thou hast never left

To wander long and far unknown; Nor hast thou been of friends bereft,

And left to sigh for them alone; Nor has Affliction's cruel smart

With racking pain e'er tortured thee, Such as the lonely Hermit's heart

Will break upon the Inks of Cree.

The rock-rose waves on every height,

The summer sun is beaming strong; Thy fleecy mantle now is light,

And thou mayst freely skip along. But Summer can't dispel the gloom

Of the dark low’ring destiny, That hurries to the silent tomb

The Hermit on the Inks of Cree.

To Death the statesman yields his power,

The rich have likewise Death to fear;

And dismal is the dying hour

To mortals who are happy here: But come the King of Terrors may,

A wish'd for moment it will be, That lifeless lays into the clay

The Hermit on the Inks of Cree.

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Wandering shepherds, cease your toil,
Leave these moorland heights awhile,

And lightly skip along,
Until amid yon fairy ring
You hear the lonely Hermit sing

A Baronet's bridal song.

In olden time,

The poet's rhyme
Mark'd his patron's nuptial day ;

Gods and Graces,

In their places,
Then took up the rapturous lay.
Or on the south side of a sunny brae,

Until the woodlands round did echo ring,
The cheerful rustic oft at parting day

Would the epithalamium sing.
Like them, the Hermit on the Inks of Cree,

Although unskill'd in any Pagan lore,
His Benefactor's bridal song, with glee

Sings, where his voice was never heard before, And where again, perhaps, it will be heard no more.

By Kirouchtree's * shaws so green,
Was the bard not lately seen,

Sadly press'd with care ;
But gone from him is the bosom sigh,
The joy-tear sparkles in his eye,
While “ Pledge with me," is his constant cry,

" To Sir David Hunter Blair."

* The seat of Sir J. H. Maxwell.

O wonder not at this mighty change,
Nor call the poet's actions strange,

· But list till ye hear him say,
When that he thoughtless was and young,
And down amid the lowly throng,
The Knight first patronized his song,

That calls forth this grateful lay.

*

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