4. GLEN-ALMAIN, or the NARROW GLEN. In this still place, remote from men, Of stormy war, and violent death; And should, methinks, when all was past, Have rightfully been laid at last Where rocks were rudely heap'd, and rent As by a spirit turbulent; Where sights were rough, and sounds were wild, And every thing unreconciled; In some complaining, dim retreat, For fear and melancholy meet; But this is calm; there cannot be Does then the Bard sleep here indeed ? What matters it? I blame them not Was moved; and in this way express'd A Convent, even a hermit's Cell Would break the silence of this Dell: It is not quiet, is not ease; But something deeper far than these: Is of the grave; and of austere 5. THE MATRON OF JEDBOROUGH AND HER HUSBAND. At Jedborough we went into private Lodgings for a few days; and the following Verses were called forth by the character, and domestic situation, of our Hostess. AGE! twine thy brows with fresh spring flowers! And call a train of laughing Hours; And bid them dance, and bid them sing; And Thou, too, mingle in the Ring! Take to thy heart a new delight; If not, make merry in despite ! For there is one who scorns thy power. -But dance! for under Jedborough Tower A Woman, whose years are seventy-three, And She will dance and sing with thee! Nay! start not at that Figure-there! Him who is rooted to his chair! Look at him-look again! for He The joyous Woman is the Mate Of Him in that forlorn estate! But bright as Vesper shines her lamp: With all it's bravery on; in times, I praise thee, Matron! and thy due Thy gladness unsubdued and bold : |