THE VISION. DUAN FIRST.+ THE sun had clos'd the winter day, To kail-yards green, While faithless snaws ilk step betray Whare she has been. The thresher's weary flingin-tree Far i' the west, Ben i' the spence, right pensivelie, 1 gaed to rest. There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek, The auld clay biggin ; An' heard the restless rattons squeak About the riggin. All in this mottie misty clime, I backward mus'd on wasted time, How 1 had spent my youthfu' prime, An' done nae-thing, But stringin blethers up in rhyme, For fools to sing. Had I to guid advice but harkit, My cash-account: While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarkit, I started, muttering, blockhead! coof! + Duan is a term in Ossian for the different divisions of a di gressive poem. See his Bath-Loda, vol. ii. of McPherson's trans lation. To swear by a' yon starry roof, Or some rash aith, When click! the string the snick did draw; An' by my ingle-lowe I saw, Now bleezin bright, A tight outlandish hizzie, braw, Come full in sight. Ye need na doubt, I held my whisht; In some wild glen; When sweet, like modest worth, she blusht, Green, slender, leaf-clad holly-boughs By that same token; An' come to stop those reckless vows, Wou'd soon been broken, Ahair-brain'd sentimental trace' Shone full upon her; Her eye, ev'n turn'd on empty space, Beam'd keen with honour. Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen, And such a leg; my bonnie Jean Could only peer it; Sae straught, sae taper, tight, and clean, Nane else came near it. Her mantle large, of greenish hue, My gazing wonder chiefly drew; Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling, threv A lustre grand; And seem'd, to my astonish'd view, A well-known land. Here, rivers in the sea were lost; There, distant shone art's lofty boast, The lordly dome. Here, Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods; On to the shore ; And many a lesser torrent scuds, With seeming roar. Low in a sandy valley spread, She boasts a race, To every nobler virtue bred, And polish'd grace. By stately tow'r or palace fair, Or ruins pendant in the air, Bold stems of heroes, here and there, I could discern: Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare, With feature stern. My heart did glowing transports feel, And brandish round the deep-dy'd steel While back recoiling seem'd to reel Their suthron foes. His Country's Saviour,+ mark him well! And he whom ruthless fates expel The Wallaces. In high command; His native land. + William Wallace. Adam Wallace, of Richardton, cousin to the immortal preserver of Scotish independence. Wallace, Laird of Craigie, who was second in command un There, where a sceptred Pictish shade* In colours strong; Bold, soldier-featur'd, undismay'd They strode along. Thro' many a wild romantic grove,+ In musing mood) An aged Judge, I saw him rove, Dispensing good. With deep-struck reverential awet, They gave their lore, This, all its source and end to draw, That, to adore. Brydone's brave ward§ I well could spy, To hand him on, Where many a patriot's name on high And hero shone. DUAN SECOND. With musing-deep astonish'd stare, Of kindred sweet, When with an elder sister's air She did me greet: der Douglas, Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle on the banks of Sark. fought anno 1448. That glorious victory was principally owing to the judicious conduct and intrepid valour of the gal. lant Laird of Craigie, who died of his wounds after the action. Coilus, King of the Picts, from whom the district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as tradition says, near the family seat of the Montgomeries of Coil's-field, where his burial place is still shown. + Barskimming, the seat of the Lord Justice Clerk. Catrine, the seat of the late Doctor, and present Professor Stewart. Colonel Fullarton. 'All-hail! my own-inspired bard! Thus poorly low! I come to give thee such reward As we bestow. Know the great genius of this land Has many a light aërial band, Who, all beneath his high command, Harmoniously, As arts or arms they understand, Their labours ply. They Scovia's race among them share; Some fire the soldier on to dare; Some rouse the patriot up to bare Corruption's heart : Some teach the bard, a darling care, The tuneful art. ''Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, They, sightless, stand, To mend the honest patriot lore, And grace the land. And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild poetic rage In energy, Or point the inconclusive page Full on the eye. Hence Fullarton, the brave and young; Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue; Hence, sweet harmonious Beattie sung His Minstrel-lays; Or tore, with noble ardour stung, The sceptic's bays. To lower orders are assign'd The humbler ranks of human kind, |