"I bore

my beauteous babes away "With many a gushing tear, "I left the blooming banks of Tay, "And brought my darlings here.

"I watch'd my little houshold cares, "And form'd their growing youth; "And fondly train'd their infaut years "To love and cherish truth."

Thy blooming BIRTHA here I fee,"
Sir ELDRED Arait rejoin'd;
"But why the fon is not with thee,
"Refolve my doubting mind."

When BIRTHA did the queftion hear,
She figh'd but could not fpeak;
And many a foft and filent tear
Stray'd down her damask cheek.

Then pafs'd o'er good Sir ARDOLPH's face,
A caft of deadly pale;

But foon compos'd, with manly grace
He thus renew'd his tale,

"For him my heart too much has bled, "for him, my darling fon,

"Has forrow preft my hoary head; "But Heav'n's high will be done;

"Scarce eighteen winters had revolv'd,
"To crown the circling year,
Before my valiant boy refolv'd
"The warrior's lance to bear.

"Too high I priz'd my native land, "Too dear his fame I held,

"T'oppose a parent's ftern command,

"And keep him from the field.

"He left me-left his fifter too,

"Yet tears bedew'd his face"What could a feeble old man do?"He burft from my embrace.

"O thirft of glory, fatal flame? "O laurels dearly bought!

"Yet fweet is death when earn'd with fame"So virtuous EDWY thought.

"Full manfully the brave boy ftrove,
"Tho' preffing ranks oppose;
"But weak the frongeft arm must prove
Against an hoft of foes.

"A deadly wound my fon receives, "A fpear affails his fide :

"Grief does not kill-for ARDOLPH lives "To tell that EDWY died.

"His long lov'd mother died again.
"In EDWY's parting groan;
"I wept for her, yet wept in vain-
"I wept for both in one.

"I would have died-I fought to die; "But Heaven reftrain'd the thought, "And to my paffion clouded eye

"My helpless BIRTHA brought.

"When lo! array'd in robes of light, "A nymph celeftial came;

"She clear'd the mifts that dimm'd my fight"RELIGION was her name.

"She prov'd the chastisement divine,
"And bade me kifs the rod;
"She taught this rebel heart of mine
"Submiffion to its God.

RELIGION taught me to sustain "What nature bad me feel; "And piety reliev'd the pain "Which time can never heal.

He ceas'd-with forrow and delight
The tale Sir ELDRED hears,

Then weeping cries - Thou noble Knight
"For thanks accept my tears.

"O ARDOLPH, might I dare afpire
"To claim fo bright a boon
"Good old Sir ELDRED was my fire-
"And thou haft loft a fon.

"And tho' I want a worthier plea
"To urge fo dear a cause;
"Yet, let me to thy bofom be
"What once thy EDwy was.

"Thy beauteous BIRTHA!"-" Gracious Power, "How could I e'er repine,"

Cries ARDOLPH, "fince I see this hour? "Yes- -BIRTHA fhall be thine."

A little tranfient gleam of red

Shot faintly o'er her face,

And every trembling feature fpread
With fweet difordered grace.

M 3

The tender father kindly fmil'd'
With fulness of content,

And fondly eyed his darling child,
Who, bafhful, blufh'd confent.

O then to paint the vaft delight
That fill'd Sir ELDRED's heart,
To tell the tranfports of the Knight,
Wou'd mock the Mufe's art.

But every kind and gracious foul,
Where gentle paffions dwell,
Will better far conceive the whole,
Than any Mufe can tell.

The more the Knight his BIRTHA knew,
The more he priz'd the maid;
Some worth each day produc'd to view,
Some grace each hour betray'd.

The virgin too was fond to charm
The dear accomplish'd Youth;
His fingle breaft fhe ftrove to warm,
And crown'd, with, love his truth,

Unlike the dames of modern days,
Who general homage claim,
Who court the univerfal gaze,
And pant for public fame.

Then Beauty but on merit fmil'd,
Nor were her chafte fmiles fold;

No venal father gave his child
For grandeur or for gold.

The ardour of young ELDRED's flame
But ill cou'd brook delay,
And oft he prefs'd the maid to name
A speedy nuptial day.

The fond impatience of his breaft
'Twas all in vain to hide,
But fhe his eager fuit repreft
With modeft, maiden pride.

When oft Sir ELDRED prefs'd the day
Which was to crown his truth,
The thoughtful Sire would figh, and say,
"O happy state of youth!

"It little recks the woes which wait
"To feare its dreams of joy,
"Nor thinks to-morrow's alter'd fate
"May all thofe dreams deftroy.

"And tho' the flatterer, Hope, deceives,
"And painted profpects fhews;
"Yet man, ftill cheated, ftill believes
"Till death the bright scene close.

"So look'd my bride, fo fweetly mild, "On me her beauty's flave;

"But whilft fhe look'd, and whilft fhe fmil'd, "She funk into the

grave.

"Yet, O forgive an old man's care,

Forgive a father's zeal :

"Who fondly loves muft greatly fear, "Who fears muft greatly feel.