ADVERTISEMENT. T HERE is fomething Romantic in the Story of the following POEM; but the Author has his Reasons for believing that there is something likewise, Authentic. On the fimple Circumftances of the ancient Narrative, from which He firft borrowed his Idea, thofe Reafons are principally founded, and they are supported by others, with which, in a Work of this Kind, to trouble his Readers would be fuperfluous. OWEN OF CARRON. OWEN Ο N CARRON's fide the primrose pale, Ye maidens fair of Marlivale, Why ftream your eyes with pity's dew? 'Tis all with gentle OWEN's blood That purple grows the primrose pale; That pity pours the tender flood From each fair eye in Marlivale. The evening ftar fate in his eye, Beneath no high, hiftoric ftone, There many a flowery race hath sprung, Yet ftill, when May with fragrant feet That Dirge I hear fo fimply fweet |