BELIEVE ME, SHE IS TRUE INDEED.

BELIEVE me, she is true indeed,

Whatever you surmise;
Impartial be, and you may read
Her faith in her bright eyes.

Beaming with candour, every look
Gives evidence of Love;

Oh do not then of Nature's book
The language disapprove!

Her smiles most eloquently speak
The self-approving glow
Of conscience, roses on her cheek

The health of virtue show.

Hypocrisy could never give
To woman such a grace

As seems, a sign from Heaven, to live
In her angelic face.

Believe me she is true indeed,
Whatever you surmise;

Impartial be, and you may read
Her faith in her bright eyes.

ON HAWTHORNDEN.

WHO can describe thy charms, sweet Hawthornden, Fit residence of poetry and love!

What fair variety is here! the glen,

Rocks clothed with oak and beech that rise above The Esk's impetuous stream below, the ken

Of thy romantic mansion, as we rove

Thy winding walks among! ah, where's the pen
Of thine own bard, to paint wood, rock, and cove?

NOTE.

Hawthornden, once the abode of the Poet Drummond, is placed on a high rock or precipice, overlooking the river Esk, that runs rapidly below the rocky sides of the glen, as you approach this delightful retreat, are covered with oak and birch that spring up from every crevice. * There are several caves in the rocks, in one of which, it is said that the patriot Wallace was concealed for two days.

"How fresh an' fair o' varied hue,

Ilk tufted haunt o' sweet Buccleugh!
What bliss ilk green retreat to hail,
Where Melville Castle cheers the vale ;

An' Mavisbank sae rural gay,

Looks bonnie down the woodland brae;

But doubly fair ilk darling scene,

That screens the bowers of Hawthorn-dean."-GALL.

A MAY-MORNING.

Crocus and hyacinth with rich inlay

Broidered the ground, more coloured than with stones
Of costliest emblem.-MILTON.

LIKE a cloud all resplendent with green and with gold
Is the wood, now the mists of the morn are uproll'd.
The trees are now robed in their freshest attire,
And the sunbeams illume them with quick-glancing fire:
The leaflets expanding, now brighten all over,
Like a young glowing maiden at sight of her lover.
White blossoms, like diamonds, sparkle between
Gay foliage, vivid with emerald-green;

And undergrown shrubs their light arms interlace,
Trailing here, running there, with an intricate grace;
And insects, fine minions of spring, in the stream
Of light floating through leafy trellises gleam.
Here by-walks from paths more frequented diverge,
Or, springing from glens, into vistas emerge.
Here Poesy lives not in words, but in feeling,

While the fragrance of plants o'er our senses is stealing;

Y

And blue flowers laugh, like the beautiful eyes
Of woman, 'mid others of infinite dyes
That enrich, like mosaic's most gorgeous inlay,
The turf, so profuse of their colours in May.
Wild hyacinths, loveliest here of their class,

With hues caught from heaven, spring up where we pass,
More splendid, when flowering o'er bank and through

glade,

Than Solomon in all his glory array'd!