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O happy pleasure! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways and dress,
A Shepherd, thou a Shepherdess!
But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality :
Thou art to me but as a wave

Of the wild sea; and I would have

Some claim upon thee, if I could, Though but of common neighbourhood. What joy to hear thee, and to see!

Thy elder Brother I would be,

Thy Father, any thing to thee!

Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace

Hath led me to this lonely place.

Joy have I had; and going hence

I bear away my recompence.

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In spots like these it is we prize
Our Memory, feel that she hath

eyes:

Then, why should I be loth to stir?

I feel this place was made for her;
To give new pleasure like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.

Nor am I loth, though pleased at heart,
Sweet Highland Girl! from Thee to part;
For I, methinks, till I grow old,

As fair before me shall behold,

As I do now, the Cabin small,
The Lake, the Bay, the Waterfall;
And Thee, the Spirit of them all!

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Degenerate Douglas! oh, the unworthy Lord! Whom mere despite of heart could so far please, And love of havoc (for with such disease

Fame taxes him) that he could send forth word To level with the dust a noble horde,

A brotherhood of venerable Trees,

Leaving an ancient Dome, and Towers like these, Beggared and outraged!- Many hearts deplor'd The fate of those old Trees; and oft with pain The Traveller, at this day, will stop and gaze

On

wrongs, which Nature scarcely seems to heed: For shelter'd places, bosoms, nooks and bays, And the pure mountains, and the gentle Tweed, And the green silent pastures, yet remain.

8.

ADDRESS

TO THE SONS OF BURNS

after visiting their Father's Grave.
(August 14th, 1803.)

Ye now are panting up life's hill!

"Tis twilight time of good and ill,

And more than common strength and skill Must ye display

If ye would give the better will

Its lawful sway.

Strong bodied if ye be to bear

Intemperance with less harm, beware!

But if your Father's wit ye share,

Then, then indeed,

Ye Sons of Burns! for watchful care

There will be need.

For honest men delight will take
To shew you favor for his sake,

Will flatter you; and Fool and Rake
Your steps pursue :

And of your Father's name will make A snare for you.

Let no mean hope your souls enslave; Be independent, generous, brave!

Your Father such example gave,

And such revere !

But be admonish'd by his Grave,

And think, and fear!

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