The friend I mourn'd-the brave, the good- Farewell, high chief of Scottish song! And brand each vice with satire strong, Farewell! and ne'er may Envy dare LINES WRITTEN ON VISITING A SCENE IN ARGYLESHIRE. AT the silence of twilight's contemplative hour, On the wind-shaken weeds that embosom the bower, All ruin'd and wild is their roofless abode, And lonely the dark raven's sheltering tree: And travell'd by few is the grass-cover'd road, Where the hunter of deer and the warrior trode, To his hills that encircle the sea. • Major Edward Hodge, of the 7th Hussars, who fell at the head of his squadron in the attack of the Polish Lancers. Yet wandering, I found on my ruinous walk, One rose of the wilderness left on its stalk, All wild in the silence of nature, it drew, Sweet bud of the wilderness! emblem of all But patience shall never depart! Though the wilds of enchantment, all vernal and Fright, Be hush'd; my dark spirit! for wisdom condemns Be strong as the rock of the ocean that stems Through the perils of chance, and the scowl of disdain, Yea! even the name I have worshipp'd in vain |