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WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE HIGHLAND SOCIETY IN LONDON, WHEN MET TO COMMEMORATE THE 21ST OF MARCH, THE DAY OF VICTORY IN EGYPT.

PLEDGE to the much lov'd land that gave us birth!

Invincible romantic Scotia's shore!

Pledge to the memory of her parted worth!

And first, amidst the brave, remember Moore!

And be it deem'd not wrong that name to give,

In festive hours, which prompts the patriots' sigh! Who would not envy such as Moore to live?

And died he not as heroes wish to die?

Yes, tho' too soon attaining glory's goal,
To us his bright career too short was giv'n;
Yet in a mighty cause his phoenix soul

Rose on the flames of victory to Heav'n!

How oft (if beats in subjugated Spain
One patriot heart) in secret shall it mourn
For him!-How oft on far Corunna's plain

Shall British exiles weep upon his urn!

Peace to the mighty dead!—our bosom-thanks In sprightlier strains the living may inspire! Joy to the chiefs that lead old Scotia's ranks, Of Roman garb and more than Roman fire!

Triumphant be the thistle still unfurl'd,

Dear symbol wild! on freedom's hills it grows, Where Fingal stemm'd the tyrants of the world, And Roman eagles found unconquer'd foes.

Joy to the band' this day on Egypt's coast Whose valour tam'd proud France's tricolor, And wrench'd the banner from her bravest host,

Baptiz'd Invincible in Austria's gore!

The 42d Regiment.

Joy for the day on red Vimeira's strand,

When bayonet to bayonet oppos'd,

First of Britannia's hosts her Highland band

Gave but the death-shot once, and foremost clos'd!

Is there a son of generous England here

Or fervid Erin?-he with us shall join,

To pray that in eternal union dear,

The rose, the shamrock, and the thistle twine!

Types of a race who shall th' invader scorn,

As rocks resist the billows round their shore, Types of a race who shall to time unborn

Their country leave unconquer'd as of yore!

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WRITTEN ON VISITING A SCENE IN ARGYLESHIRE.

Ar the silence of twilight's contemplative hour,

I have mused in a sorrowful mood,

On the wind-shaken weeds that embosom the bower, Where the home of my forefathers stood.

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