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«« Poitiers, by the way, is always spelled with How He, the chief of judgment deem'd profound, an 8, and I know no reason why orthography should For luckless love was crazed upon a timegive place to rhyme.'"

"" There is a great deal of it,' said she, glancing “ Raise my faint head, my squires,” he said, along the paper, and interrupting the sweetest “ And let the casement be display'd, sounds which mortal ears can drink in; those of a That I may see once more

youthful poet's verses, namely, read by the lipe The splendor of the setting sun

which are dearest to them." Gleam on thy mirror'd wave, Garonne,

Chap. xvi And Blaye's empurpled shore."

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“A cloud of flame is something new-Goodmorrow, my masters all, and a merry Christmas to you kWhy, the bellman writes better lines !'”

Chap. ii.



(3.)-CHAP. XXII.
Look round thee, young Astolpho : Here's the

Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in,-
Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease.
Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench,
Doth Hope's fair torch expire; and at the snuff,
Ere yet ’tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and wayward,
The desperate revelries of wild despair,
Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds
That the poor captive would have died ere prae

Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition.

The Prison, Scene üi. Act.i.


“Miss VERNON proceeded to read the first stanza, which was nearly to the following purpose :"

LADIES, and knights, and arms, and love's fair flame,

Deeds of emprize and courtesy, I sing ;
What time the Moors from sultry Africk came,

Led on by Agramant, their youthful king-
He whom revenge and hasty ire did bring

O'er the broad wave, in France to waste and war; Such ills from old Trojano's death did spring,

Which to avenge he came from realms afar, And menaced Christian Charles, the Roman Em


Far as the eye could reach no tree was seen,
Earth, clad in russet, scorn'd the lively green;
No birds, except as birds of passage, flew;
No bee was heard to hum, no dove to coo;
No streams, as amber smooth, as amber clear,
Were seen to glide, or heard to warble here.

Prophecy of Famine.

Of dauntless Roland, too, my strain shall sound,

In import never known in prose or rhyme,

(5.)-CHAP. XXXI. “Woe to the vanquish’d!” was stern Brenno's word, When sunk proud Rome beneath the Gallic sword

Woe to the vanquish'd!” when his massive blade With the tempestuous question, Up or down ?: Bore down the scale against her ransom weigh’d, "Twixt Seylla and Charybdis thus stand we, And on the field of foughten battle still,

Law's final end, and law's uncertainty. Who knows no limit save the victor's will.

But, soft! who lives at Rome the Pope must flatter, The Gaulliad. And jails and lawsuits are no jesting matter.

Then-just farewell! We wait with serious awe (6.)-CHAP. XXXII.

Till your applause or censure gives the law. And be he safe restored ere evening set, Trusting our humble efforts may assure ye, Or, if there's vengeance in an injured heart, We hold you Court and Counsel, Judge and Jury. And power to wreak it in an arm'd hand, Your land shall ache for't.

Old Play.

Mackrim mon's Lament.* (7.)—CHAP. XXXVI. Farewell to the land where the clouds love to rest,

1818. Like the shroud of the dead on the mountain's

cold breast; To the cataract's roar where the eagles reply,

AIR—"Cha till mi tuille.''s And the lake her lone bosom expands to the sky. Mackrimmon, hereditary piper to the Laird of

Macleod, is said to have composed this Lament when the Clan was about to depart upon a distant and dangerous expedition. The Minstrel was

impressed with a belief, which the event verified, Epilogue to the appeal.

that he was to be slain in the approaching feud; SPOKEN BY MRS. HENRY SIDDONS,

and hence the Gaelic words, “ Cha till mi tuille; FEB. 16, 1818.

ged thillis Macleod, cha till Mackrimmon," 1

shall never return; although Macleod returns, A cat of yore (or else old Æsop lied)

yet Mackrimmon shall never return!" The piece Was changed into a fair and blooming bride, is but too well known, from its being the strain But spied a mouse upon her marriage day,

with which the emigrants from the West HighForgot her spouse, and seized


her prey ; lands and Isles usually take leave of their native Even thus my bridegroom lawyer, as you saw, shore. Threw off poor me, and pounced upon papa. His neck from Hymen's mystic knot made loose, He twisted round my sire's the literal noose. MACLEOD's wizard flag from the gray castle sallies, Such are the fruits of our dramatic labor

The rowers are seated, unmoor'd are the galleys; Since the New Jail became our next-door neighbor. Gleam war-axe and broadsword, clang target and

quiver, Yes, times are changed; for, in your fathers' age, As Mackrimmon sings, "Farewell to Dunvegan The lawyers were the patrons of the stage;

for ever! However high advanced by future fate,

Farewell to each cliff, on which breakers are There stands the bench (points to the Pit) that first

foaming; received their weight.

Farewell, each dark glen, in which red-deer are The future legal sage, 'twas ours to see,

roaming; Doom though unwigg'd, and plead without a fee. Farewell, lonely Skye, to lake, mountain, and river;

Macleod may return, but Mackrimmon shall never ! But now, astounding each poor mimic elf, Instead of lawyers comes the law herself; “ Farewell the bright clouds that on Quillan are Tremendous neighbor, on our right she dwells,

sleeping; Builds her high towers and excavates her cells; Farewell the bright eyes in the Dun that are While on the left she agitates the town,


1 “The Appeal,” a Tragedy, by John Galt, the celebrated author of the “ Annals of the Parish,” and other Novels, was played for four nights at this time in Edinburgh.

. It is necessary to mention, that the allusions in this piece are all local, and addressed only to the Edinburgh audience. The new prisons of the city, on the Calton Hill, are not far from the theatre.

3 At this time the public of Edinburgh was much agitated by a lawsuit betwixt the Magistrates and many of the Inhabitants of the City, concerning a range of new buildings on the western side of the North Bridge; which the latter insisted should be removed as a deformity.

4 Written for Albyn's Anthology.
5 " We return no more."

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From the Heart of Mid-Lothian.

And merry whips, ding-dong,

And prayer and fasting plenty.


My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard

Sae far ayont the sea, (1.)-MADGE WILDFIRE'S SONGS.

And it is but my blithsome ghaist

That's speaking now to thee.
When the gledd's in the blue cloud,
The lavrock lies still;

I'm Madge of the country, I'm Madge of the town,
When the hound's in the green-wood, And I'm Madge of the lad I am blithest to own-
The hind keeps the hill.

The Lady of Beever in diamonds may shine,

But has not a heart half so lightsome as mine. O sleep ye sound, Sir James, she said, When ye suld rise and ride?

I am Queen of the Wake, and I'm Lady of May, There's twenty men, wi' bow and blade, And I lead the blithe ring round the May-pole toAre seeking where ye hide.


The wild-fire that flashes so far and so free
Hey for cavaliers, ho for cavaliers,

Was never so bright, or so bonnie as me.
Dub a dub, dub a dub;
Have at old Beelzebub -

He that is down need fear no fall,
Oliver's running for fear.-

He that is low no pride;

He that is humble ever shall
I glance like the wildfire through country and

Have God to be his guide.
I'm seen on the causeway-I'm seen on the down; Fulness to such a burthen is
The lightning that flashes so bright and so free,

That go on pilgrimage;
Is scarcely so blithe or so bonny as me.

Here little, and hereafter bliss,

Is best from age to age. What did ye wi' the bridal ring-bridal ringbridal ring?

" As Jeanie entered, she heard first the air, and What did ye wi' your wedding ring, ye little cutty then a part of the chorus and words of what had

been, perhaps, the song of a jolly harvest-home.” I gied it till a sodger, a sodger, a sodger, I gied it till a sodger, an auld true love o'mine, O. Our work is over-over now,

The goodman wipes his weary brow, Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee;

The last long wain wends slow away, I prithee, dear moon, now show to me

And we are free to sport and play. The form and the features, the speech and degree,

The night comes on when sets the sun, Of the man that true lover of mine shall be.

And labor ends when day is done.

When Autumn's gone, and Winter's come,
It is the bonny butcher lad,

We hold our jovial harvest-home.
That wears the sleeves of blue,
He sells the flesh on Saturday,

“The attendant on the hospital arranged her in On Friday that he slew.

her bed as she desired, with her face to the wall,

and her back to the light. So soon as she was There's a bloodhound ranging Tinwald Wood, quiet in this new position, she began again to sing There's harness glancing sheen;

in the same low and modulated strains, as if she There's a maiden sits on Tinwald brae,

was recovering the state of abstraction which the And she sings loud between.

interruption of her visitants had disturbed. The

strain, however, was different, and rather resemUp in the air,

bled the music of the methodist hymns, though On my bonnie gray mare,

the measure of the song was similar to that of the And I see, and I see, and I see her yet. former:"

quean, 01

In the bonnie cells of Bedlam,

Ere I was ane and twenty,
I had hempen bracelets strong,

When the fight of grace is fought,-
When the marriage vest is wrought,-
When Faith has chased cold Doubt away,

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(1.)-LUCY ASHTON'S SONG. “The silver tones of Lucy Ashton's voice min. gled with the accompaniment in an ancient air, to which some one had adapted the following words:

“ The glow-worm o'er grave and stone

Shall light thee steady.
The owl from the steeple sing,

*Welcome, proud lady.'” "Her voice died away with the last notes, and she fell into a slumber, from which the experienced attendant assured them, that she would never awake at all, or only in the death-agony.

“Her first prophecy was true. The poor maniac parted with existence, without again uttering a sound of any kind.”

Chaps. XV.-xxxvii. passim.

Look not thou on beauty's charming,
Sit thou still when kings are arming: -
Taste not when the wine-cup glistens, –
Speak not when the people listens,-
Stop thine ear against the singer,-
From the red gold keep thy finger,-
Vacant heart, and hand, and eye,
Easy live and quiet die.

Chap. ij.


(1.)-CHAP. XIX. To man, in this his trial state,

The privilege is given,


“And humming his rustic roundelay, the yeoman went on his road, the sound of his rough

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