Yet it could not be love, for I knew not the name;
What passion can dwell in the heart of a child?
But still I perceived an emotion the same

As I felt, when a boy, on the crag-cover'd wild :
One image alone on my bosom impress'd-

I lov'd my bleak regions, nor panted for new:
And few were my wants, for my wishes were bless'd ;
And pure were my thoughts, for my soul was with you
I arose with the dawn, with my dog as my guide,

From mountain to mountain I bounded along;
I breasted the billows of Dee's† rushing tide,
And heard at a distance the Highlander's song.
At eve, on my heath-cover'd couch of repose,

No dreams, save of Mary, were spread to my view;
And warm to the skies my devotions arose,

For the first of my prayers was a blessing on you.

I left my bleak home, and my visions are gone ;
The mountains are vanish'd, my youth is no more:
As the last of iny race I must wither alone,

And delight but in days I have witnessed before.
Ah! splendour has raised, but imbitter'd, my lot!
More dear were the scenes which my infancy knew.
Though my hopes may have fail'd, yet they are not forgot,
Though cold is my heart, still it lingers with you.
When I see some dark hill point its crest to the sky,
I think of the rocks that o'ershadow Colbleen;
When I see the soft blue of a love-speaking eye,
I think of those eyes that endear'd the rude scene:
When, haply, some light-waving locks I behold,
That faintly resemble my Mary's in hue,
I think on the long flowing ringlets of gold-
The locks that were sacred to beauty and you.

Breasting the lofty mountain.'-SHAKSPEARE.

The Dee is a beautiful river, which rises near Mar Lodge and falls into the sea at New Aberdeen.

Colbleen is a mountain near the verge of the Highlands, not far from the ruins

of Dee Castle.

Yet the day may arrive when the mountains once more
Shall rise to my sight in their mantles of snow:
But, while these soar above me, unchanged as before,
Will Mary be there to receive me? Ah, no!
Adieu, then, ye hills, where my childhood was bred!
Thou sweet-flowing Dee, to thy waters adieu!
No home in the forest shall shelter my head;

Ah! Mary, what home could be mine but with you??

ΤΟ

Oh! yes, I will own, we were dear to each other;
The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true;
The love which you felt was the love of a brother,
Nor less the affection I cherish'd for you.

But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion-
The attachment of years in a moment expires;
Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion,
But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires.
Full oft have we wander'd through Ida together,

And bless'd were the scenes of our youth, I allow:
In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather!
But winter's rude tempests are gathering now.

No more with affection shall memory blending.
The wonted delights of our childhood retrace:
When pride steels the bosom, the heart is unbending,
And what would be justice appears a disgrace.

However, dear S——, (for I still must esteem you—
The few whom I love I can never upbraid)
The chance which has lost may in future redeem
Repentance will cancel the vow you have made.

yor

I will not complain; and, though chill'd is affection,
With me no corroding resentment shall live:

My bosom is calm'd by the simple reflection

That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive.

You knew that my soul, that my heart, my existence,
If danger demanded, were wholly your own;
You knew me unalter'd by years or by distance,

Devoted to love and to friendship alone.

You knew,——but away with the vain retrospection.
The bond of affection no longer endures:
Too late you may droop o'er the fond recollection,
And sigh for the friend who was formerly yours.

For the present we part

—I will hope not for ever, For time and regret will restore you at last; To forget our dissensions we both should endeavourI ask no atonement but days like the past.

TO MARY,

ON RECEIVING HER PICTURE.

This faint resemblance of thy charms,
Though strong as mortal art could give,
My constant heart of fear disarms,
Revives my hopes, and bids me live.
Here I can trace the locks of gold

Which round thy snowy forehead wave;
The cheeks which sprung from Beauty's mould,
The lips which made me Beauty's slave.

Here I can trace-ab, no! that eye,
Whose azure floats in liquid fire,

Must all the painter's art defy,

And bid him from the task retire.

Here I behold its beauteous hue;

But where's the beam, so sweetly straying,

Which gave a lustre to its blue,

Like Luna o'er the ocean playing?

Sweet copy! far more dear to me,

Lifeless, unfeeling, as thou art,
Than all the living forms could be,

Save her who placed thee next my heart.

She placed it, sad, with needless fear,

Lest time might shake my wavering s ul,
Unconscious that her image there

Held every sense in fast control.

Through hours, through years, through time, 'twill cheer

My hope in gloomy moments raise:

In life's last conflict 'twill appear,
And meet my fond expiring gaze.'

DAMÆTAS.

In law an infant,* and in years a boy;

In mind a slave to every vicious joy;

From every sense of shame and virtue wean'd;

In lies an adept, in deceit a fiend;

Versed in hypocrisy while yet a child;

Fickle as wind, of inclinations wild;

Woman his dupe, his heedless friend a tool;

Old in the world, though scarcely broke from schoo.;-
Damætas ran through all the maze of sin,

And found the goal when others just begin!
Even still conflicting passions shake his soul,
And bid him drain the dregs of Pleasure's bowl;
But, pall'd with vice, he breaks his former chain,
And what was once his bliss appears his bane.

TO MARION.

Marion! why that pensive brow
What disgust to life hast thou?
Change that discontented air;
Frowns become not one so fair.
'Tis not love disturbs thy rest;
Love's a stranger to thy breast:
He in dimpling smiles appears,
Or mourns in sweetly timid tears;
Or bends the languid eyelid down,
But shuns the cold forbidding frown.
Then resume thy former fire!

Some will love, and all admire :

• In law, every person is an infant who has not attained the age of twenty-one

While that icy aspect chills us,
Nought but cool indifference thrills us.
Wouldst thou wandering hearts begnile,
Smile, at least, or seem to smile:
Eyes like thine were never meant
To hide their orbs in dark restraint;
Spite of all thou fain wouldst say,
Still in truant beams they play.
Thy lips but here my modest Muse
Her impulse chaste must needs refuse :

She blushes, courtesies, frowns-in short she
Dreads lest the subject should transport me;
And, flying off in search of Reason,
Brings Prudence back in proper season.
All I shall therefore say (whate'er

I think is neither here nor there)
Is that such lips, of looks endearing,
Were form'd for better things than sneering.
Of soothing compliments divested,
Advice at least's disinterested;
Such is my artless song to thee,
From all the flow of flattery free:
Counsel like mine is as a brother's-
My heart is given to some others;
That is to say, unskill'd to cozen,
It shares itself among a dozen.

Marion, adieu !-Oh! pr'ythee slight not
This warning, though it may delight not;
And, lest my precepts be displeasing
To those who think remonstrance teasing,
At once I'll tell thee our opinion
Concerning woman's soft dominion:-
Howe'er we gaze with admiration