"Farewell, my father's ancient tower! A long farewell," said be:

"The scene of pleasure, pomp, or power Thou never more shalt be.

"To Learmont's name no foot of earth
Shall here again belong,

And, on thy hospitable hearth,
The hare shall leave her young.

"Adieu! adieu!" again he cried,
All as he turned him roun'—
"Farewell to Leader's silver tide!
Farewell to Ercildoune!"

The hart and hind approach'd the place,
As lingering yet he stood;
And there, before Lord Douglas' face,
With them he cross'd the flood.

Lord Douglas leap'd on his berry-brown steed,
And spurr'd him the Leader o'er;

But, though he rode with lightning speed,
He never saw them more.

Some said to hill, and some to glen,

Their wondrous course had been;

But ne'er in haunts of living men
Again was Thomas seen.

GLENFINLAS;

OR,

LORD RONALD'S CORONACH.'

THE simple tradition, upon which the following stanzas are founded, runs thus: While two Highland hunters were passing the night in the solitary bothy, (a hut, built for the purpose of hunting,) and making merry over their venison and whisky, one of them expressed a wish that they had pretty lasses to complete their party. The words were scarcely uttered, when two beautiful young women, habited in green, entered the hut, dancing and singing. One of the hunters was seduced by the siren who attached herself particularly to him, to leave the hut: the other remained, and, suspicious of the fair seducers, continued to play upon a trump, or Jew's-harp, some strain, consecrated to the Virgin Mary. Day at length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching in the forest, he found the bones of his unfortunate friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured by the fiend into whose toils he had fallen. The place was from thence called the Glen of the Green Women.

Glenfinlas is a tract of forest-ground, lying in the Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender, in Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now belongs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well as the adjacent district of Balquidder, was, in times of yore, chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west of the Forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch Katrine, and its romantic avenue, called the Troshachs. Benledi, Benmore, and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same district, and at no great distance from Glenfinlas. The river Teith passes Callender and the Castle of Doune, and joins the Forth near Stirling. The Pass of Lenny is immediately above Callender, and is the principal access

1 Coronach is the lamentation for a deceased warrior, sung by the aged of the clun.

to the Highlands, from that town. Glenartney is a forest, near Benvoirlich. The whole forms a sublime tract of Alpine scenery. This ballad first appeared in the Tales of Wonder.1

GLENFIN LAS.

"For them the viewless forms of air obey,
Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair;
They know what spirit brews the stormful day,
And heartless oft, like moody madness stare,

To see the phantom-train their secret work prepare."

COLLINS

"O HONE a rie'! O hone a rie'!'

The pride of Albin's line is o'er,

And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!"—

O, sprung from great Macgillianore,

The chief that never fear'd a foe,
How matchless was thy broad claymore,
How deadly thine unerring bow!

Well can the Saxon widows tell,

How, on the Teith's resounding shore,
The boldest Lowland warriors fell,
As down from Lenny's pass you bore.

But o'er his hills, in festal day,

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane-tree,*
While youths and maids the light strathspey
So nimbly danced with Highland glee!

[The scenery of this, the author's first serious attempt in poetry, re-ap pears in the Lady of the Lake, in Waverley, and in Rob Roy.-ED.]

* Ohone a rie' signifies-" Alas for the prince or chief."

3 The term Sassenach, or Saxon, is applied by the Highlanders to their Low-Country neighbours.

* The fires lighted by the Highlanders on the first of May, in compliance

Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell,
E'en age forgot his tresses hoar;
But now the loud lament we swell,
O ne'er to see Lord Ronald more!

From distant isles a chieftain came,

The joys of Ronald's halls to find,
And chase with him the dark-brown game,
That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind.
'T was Moy; whom in Columba's isle
The seer's prophetic spirit found,'
As, with a minstrel's fire the while,
He waked his harp's harmonious sound.
Full many a spell to him was known,
Which wandering spirits shrink to hear;
And many a lay of potent tone,

Was never meant for mortal ear.

For there 't is said, in mystic mood,
High converse with the dead they hold,
And oft espy the fated shroud,

That shall the future corpse enfold.

O so it fell, that on a day,

To rouse the red deer from their den,
The Chiefs have ta'en their distant way,
And scour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen.
No vassals wait their sports to aid,

To watch their safety, deck their board;
Their simple dress, the Highland plaid,

Their trusty guard, the Highland sword.

with a custom derived from the Pagan times, are termed The Beltane-tree. It is a festival celebrated with various superstitious rites, both in the north of Scotland and in Wales.

'I can only describe the second sight, by adopting Dr. Johnson's definition, who calls it "An impression, either by the mind upon the eye, or by the eye upon the mind, by which things distant and future are perceived and seen as if they were present." To which I would only add, that the spectral appearances, thus presented, usually presage misfortune; that the faculty is painful to those who suppose they possess it; and that they usually acquire it while themselves under the pressure of melancholy. kkk

Three summer days, through brake and dell,
Their whistling shafts successful flew ;
And still, when dewy evening fell,
The quarry to their hut they drew.

In grey Glenfinlas' deepest nook
The solitary cabin stood,

Fast by Moneira's sullen brook,

Which murmurs through that lonely wood. Soft fell the night, the sky was calm, When three successive days had flown; And summer mist in dewy balm

Steep'd heathy bank, and mossy stone.

The moon, half-hid in silvery flakes,
Afar her dubious radiance shed,
Quivering on Katrine's distant lakes,
And resting on Benledi's head.
Now in their hut, in social guise,

Their sylvan fare the Chiefs enjoy,
And pleasure laughs in Ronald's eyes,

As many a pledge he quaffs to Moy.

"What lack we here to crown our bliss,
While thus the pulse of joy beats high?
What, but fair woman's yielding kiss,
Her panting breath and melting eye?
"To chase the deer of yonder shades,
This morning left their father's pile
The fairest of our mountain maids,
The daughters of the proud Glengyle.

"Long have I sought sweet Mary's heart, And dropp'd the tear, and heaved the sigh: But vain the lover's wily art,

Beneath a sister's watchful eye.

"But thou mayst teach that guardian fair,
While far with Mary I am flown,

Of other hearts to cease her care,
And find it hard to guard her own.