The sheep, the oxen, to him yield;
Likewise the wild beasts of the field:
The feathery tribes all own him lord,
And all the fish the seas afford.
Lord, our Lord, to the world's_ends
Thy name in majesty extends!

OLD ROBERT GRAY.

OLD Robert Gray,

At the close of the day,

Enter'd his clean little house;

In simple air,

When set down in his chair,

Thus he addressed his spouse:

Now we are old,

But our love is not cold;

'Bove sorrow's stream it has borne:

You are so kind,

You are balm to my mind,

Though I am crazy and worn.

"In wedded life,

You have still been a wife

Who ceaseless sought for my ease;

When rack'd by grief,

You aye brought sweet relief

Art is ever yours to please.

"Youth now is gone,

And old age is come on,

For all my heart loves

My shaking frame

you

dear;

Feels a glow at your name,

No sound so sweet to my ear.

"While we are here,

We will live in God's fear,

As we have done time before;
Should Death us part,

Hopes will cheer the lone heart,
To meet on a blissful shore."

THE AUTHOR'S LAST MORNING

WALK IN METHLIC.

THE sun has risen in the east,

His beams, like gold, dye Tangland Ford;
The canopy of mist withdraws,

And morning owns her ancient lord.

The sable rook croaks his hoarse notes
'Mongst Kelly's † high and hoary trees;
The cuckoo gives his hackney'd tale,
Without a change the ear to please.

Wing'd high in air, the lav'rock sings
His sweetly artless, varied strains;
The mavis whistles in the grove,
The hare in pastime skims the plains.

*

A Ford in the Ythan, about two and a half miles below the village. of Methlic.

† An Estate situated on the banks of the Ythan, whereon stands Haddo House, the seat of the Earl of Aberdeen.

That day when he was laid in earth,
Her spirit spread its wings and fled,
And left me here, bereaved of all
Who had my life a pleasure made.

But yet, amid this mournful gloom
By which my mind is thick o'ercast,
With me one solace still remains-
The direst woes of time are past.

Then roll, ye hours!-fly, fly with speed,
Until I reach that wish'd-for shore,
Where I shall join my friends again,
And no rude blasts divide us more.