15.

Not so the methodistic crew,
Who plans of reformation lay;
In humble attitude they sue,
And for the sins of others pray:

16.

Forgetting that their pride of spirit,
Their exultation in their trial,
Detracts most largely from the merit
Of all their boasted self-denial.

17.

-'Tis morn: from these I turn my sight.
What scene is this which meets the eye?
A numerous crowd, array'd in white*,
Across the green in numbers fly.

18.

Loud rings in air the chapel bell;

"Tis hush'd:-what sounds are these I hear?

The organ's soft celestial swell

Rolls deeply on the list'ning ear.

19.

To this is join'd the sacred song,

The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain; Though he who hears the music long Will never wish to hear again.

* On a saint's day, the students wear surplices in chapel.

20.

Our choir would scarcely be excused,
Even as a band of raw beginners;
All mercy now must be refused

To such a set of croaking sinners.

21.

If David, when his toils were ended,

Had heard these blockheads sing before him,
To us his Psalms had ne'er descended,-
In furious mood he would have tore 'em.

22.

The luckless Israelites, when taken
By some inhuman tyrant's order,
Were asked to sing, by joy forsaken,
On Babylonian river's border.

23.

Oh! had they sung in notes like these,
Inspired by stratagem or fear,

They might have set their hearts at ease,
The devil a soul had stay'd to hear.

24.

But if I scribble longer* now,

The deuce a soul will stay to read: My pen is blunt, my ink is low;

'Tis almost time to stop, indeed.

*If I scribble longer. In the private volume, If I write much longer.-ED.

25.

Therefore, farewell, old GRANTA's spires!
No more like Cleofas I fly;

No more thy theme my muse inspires:
The reader's tired, and so am I.

1806.

LACHIN Y. GAIR *.

Lachin y. Gair, or, as it is pronounced in the Erse, Loch na Garr, towers proudly pre-eminent in the Northern Highlands, near Invercauld. One of our modern tourists mentions it as the highest mountain, perhaps, in Great Britain. Be this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sublime and picturesque amongst our "Caledonian Alps." Its appearance is of a dusky hue, but the summit is the seat of eternal snows. Near Lachin y. Gair I spent some of the early part of my life, the recollection of which has given birth to the following stanzas.

1.

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses!

In you let the minions of luxury rove;

Restore me the rocks where the snow-1

w-flake reposes,

Though still they are sacred to freedom and love: Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains,

Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,

I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr.

VOL. V.

* First published in Hours of Idleness.-ED.

L

2.

Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid*; On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd, As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade: I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,

Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.

3.

"Shades of the dead! have I not heard your voices Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?"

Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,

And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale.

Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers, Winter presides in his cold icy car:

Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers;

They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr.

4.

"Ill starr'dt, though brave, did no visions foreboding Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?"

This word is erroneously pronounced plad: the proper pronunciation (according to the Scotch) is known by the orthography.

† I allude here to my maternal ancestors, "the Gordons," many of whom fought for the unfortunate Prince Charles, better known by the name of the Pretender. This branch was nearly allied by blood, as well as attachment, to the Stuarts. George, the second Earl of Huntley, married the Princess Annabella Stuart, daughter of James

Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden*,
Victory crown'd not your fall with applause:
Still were you happy in death's earthy slumber,
You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar†;
The pibroch resounds, to the piper's loud number,
Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr.

5.

Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you,
Years must elapse ere I tread you again:
Nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you,
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.
England! thy beauties are tame and domestic

To one who has roved on the mountains afar.
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic!
The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr!

the First of Scotland.

By her he left four sons: the third, Sir William Gordon, I have the honour to claim as one of my progenitors. • Whether any perished in the battle of Culloden, I am not certain; but, as many fell in the insurrection, I have used the name of the principal action, "pars pro toto."

A tract of the Highlands so called. There is also a Castle of Braemar.

The bagpipe.