Thine be the volumes, Jessy fair, And with them take the Poet's prayer, That Fate may, in her fairest page, With ev'ry kindliest, best presage Of future bliss, enroll thy name: With native worthand spotless fame, And wakeful caution, still aware Of ill-but chief, Man's felon snare; All blameless joys on earth we find, And
Now springhas clad the grove in green, And strew'd the leawi' flowers; The furrow'd, waving corn is seen Rejoice in fostering showers. While ilka thing in nature join Their sorrows to forego, O why thus all alone are mine The weary steps o' woe! The trout in yonder wimpling burn That glides, a silver dart,
'Tis Friendship's pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bidthe world adieu, (A world 'gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o'ercast, Chill came the tempest's
To Riddell, much lamented man, This ivied cot was dear; Wandr'er, dost value matchless worth? This ivied cot revere.
Thou of anindependent mind, With soul resolv'd, with soul resign'd; Prepar'd Power's proudest frown to brave, Who wilt not be, nor have a slave; Virtue alone who dost revere, Thy own reproach alone dost fear- Approach this shrine, and worship here.
Here, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives, In sacred strains and tuneful numbers joined, Accept the gift; though humble he who gives, Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind. So may noruffian-feeling in my breast, Discordant, jar thy bosom-chords among; ButPeace attune thy gentle soul to rest, Or Love, ecstatic, wake his seraph song,
Grant me, indulgent Heaven, that I may live, To see the miscreants feel the pains they give; Deal Freedom's sacred treasures free as air, TillSlave and Despot be butthings that were.
No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, "No storied urn nor animated bust;" This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way, To pour her sorrows o'er the Poet's dust. Additional Stanzas She mourns, sweet tuneful youth, thy hapless fate; Tho' all the powers of song thy fancy fired, Yet Luxury and Wealth lay by in state,
Thou flatt'ring markof friendship kind, Still may thy pages call to mind The dear, the beauteous donor; Tho' sweetly female ev'ry part, Yet such a head, and more the heart Does both the sexes honour: She show'd her taste refin'd and just, When she selected thee; Yet deviating, own I must, For saeapproving me: Butkind