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Fancies, and loose conjectures. Other trace
Survives, for worthy mention, of a pair
Who, from the pressure of their several fates,
Meeting as strangers, in a petty town
Whose blue roofs ornament a distant reach
Of this far-winding vale, remained as friends
True to their choice; and gave their bones in trust
To this loved cemetery, here to lodge
With unescutcheoned privacy interred
Far from the family vault.-A Chieftain one
By right of birth ; within whose spotless breast
The fire of ancient Caledonia burned :
He, with the foremost whose impatience hailed
The Stuart, landing to resume, by force
Of

arms, the crown which bigotry had lost,
Aroused his clan; and, fighting at their head,
With his brave sword endeavoured to prevent
Culloden's fatal overthrow. Escaped
From that disastrous rout, to foreign shores
He fled; and when the lenient hand of time
Those troubles had appeased, he sought and gained,
For his obscured condition, an obscure
Retreat, within this nook of English ground.

The other, born in Britain's southern tract, Had fixed his milder loyalty, and placed His gentler sentiments of love and hate, There, where they placed them who in conscience prized The new succession, as a line of kings

Whose oath had virtue to protect the land
Against the dire assaults of papacy
And arbitrary rule. But launch thy bark
On the distempered food of public life,
And cause for most rare triumph will be thine
If, spite of keenest eye and steadiest hand,
The stream, that bears thee forward, prove not, soon
Or late, a perilous master. He—who oft,
Beneath the battlements and stately trees
That round his mansion cast a sober gloom,
Had moralised on this, and other truths
Of kindred import, pleased and satisfied
Was forced to vent his wisdom with a sigh
Heaved from the heart in fortune's bitterness,
When he had crushed a plentiful estate
By ruinous contest, to obtain a seat
In Britain's senate. Fruitless was the attempt :
And while the uproar of that desperate strife
Continued yet to vibrate on his ear,
The vanquished Whig, under a borrowed name,
(For the mere sound and echo of his own
Haunted him with sensations of disgust
That he was glad to lose) slunk from the world
To the deep shade of those untravelled Wilds;
In which the Scottish Laird had long possessed
An undisturbed abode. Here, then, they met,
Two doughty champions ; flaming Jacobite
And sullen Hanoverian! You might think
That losses and vexations, less severe

Than those which they had severally sustained,
Would have inclined each to abate his zeal
For his ungrateful cause ; no, I have heard
My reverend Father tell that, ʼmid the calm
Of that small town encountering thus, they filled,
Daily, its bowling-green with harmless strife ;
Plagued with uncharitable thoughts the church;
And vexed the market-place. But in the breasts
Of these opponents gradually was wrought,
With little change of general sentiment,
Such change towards each other, that their days
By choice were spent in constant fellowship;
And if, at times, they fretted with the yoke,
Those

very bickerings made them love it more.

A favourite boundary to their lengthened walks This Church-yard was. And, whether they had come Treading their path in sympathy and linked In social converse, or by some short space Discreetly parted to preserve the peace, One spirit seldom failed to extend its sway Over both minds, when they awhile had marked The visible quiet of this holy ground, And breathed its soothing air ;—the spirit of hope And saintly magnanimity; that-spurning The field of selfish difference and dispute, And every care which transitory things, Earth and the kingdoms of the earth, createDoth, by a rapture of forgetfulness,

Preclude forgiveness, from the praise debarred, Which else the Christian virtue might have claimed.

en

There live who yet remember here to have
Their courtly figures, seated on the stump
Of an old yew, their favourite resting place.
But as the remnant of the long-lived tree
Was disappearing by a swift decay,
They, with joint care, determined to erect,
Upon its site, a dial, that might stand
For public use preserved, and thus survive
As their own private monument: for this
Was the particular spot, in which they wished
(And Heaven was pleased to accomplish the desire)
That, undivided, their remains should lie.
So, where the mouldered tree had stood, was raised
Yon structure, framing, with the ascent of steps
That to the decorated pillar lead,
A work of art more sumptuous than might seem
To suit this place; yet built in no proud scorn
Of rustic homeliness; they only aimed
To ensure for it respectful guardianship.
Around the margin of the plate, whereon
The shadow falls to note the stealthy hours,
Winds an inscriptive legend."-At these words
Thither we turned ; and gathered, as we read,
The appropriate sense, in Latin numbers couched :

Time flies; it is his melancholy task
To bring, and bear away, delusive hopes,

And re-produce the troubles he destroys.
But, while his blindness thus is occupied,
Discerning Mortal! do thou serve the will
Of Time's eternal Master, and that peace
Which the world wants, shall be for thee confirmed !'

“ Smooth verse, inspired by no unlettered Muse,” Exclaimed the Sceptic, “and the strain of thought Accords with nature's language ; the soft voice Of yon white torrent falling down the rocks Speaks, less distinctly, to the same effect. If, then, their blended influence be not lost Upon our hearts, not wholly lost, I grant, Even upon mine, the more are we required To feel for those among our fellow-men, Who, offering no obeisance to the world, Are yet made desperate by 'too quick a sense Of constant infelicity,' cut off From peace

like exiles on some barren rock, Their life's appointed prison; not more free Than sentinels, between two armies, set, With nothing better, in the chill night air, Than their own thoughts to comfort them. Say why That ancient story of Prometheus chained ? The vulture, the inexhaustible repast Drawn from his vitals ? Say what meant the woes By Tantalus entailed upon

his

race, And the dark sorrows of the line of Thebes ? Fictions in form, but in their substance truths,

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