svo

In such a rest his heart to keep;
But angels say-and through the word
I ween their blessed smile is heard-
" He giveth His beloved, sleep!'

Nor ever shall he be in praise,

By wise or good forsaken ;
Named softly, as the household name

Of one whom God hath taken !

him ;

“ For me my heart that erst did go " With sadness that is calm, not gloom, Most like a tired child at a show,

I learn to think upon him ;
That sees through tears the jugglers leap, With meekness that is gratefulness,
Would now its wearied vision close,

On God whose heaven hath won him Would childlike on His love repose, Who suffered once the madness-cloud, Who giveth His beloved, sleep!

Toward His love to blind him ;

But gently led the blind along “ And friends ! -dear friends !-when it Where breath and bird could find

shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep “ And wrought within his shattered brain, Let one, most loving of you all,

Such quick poetic senses, Say, “ Not a tear must o'er her fall

As hills have language for, and stars, * He giveth His beloved, sleep!'”

Harmonious influences !

The pulse of dew upon the grass, Cowper has found at last the best of

His own did calmly number; biographers in Southey; and Southey And silent shadow from the trees -should he see them-and surely he Fell o'er him like a slumber, will—though we think he has somewhere said that he seldom reads the

“ The very world, by God's constraint, verses of the day-will not withhold From falsehood's chill removing, his praise from the affecting and beau. Its women and its men became tiful lines on Cowper's Grave. Had Beside him, true and loving ! they been anonymous, we should have And timid hares were drawn from woods attributed them to Caroline Bowles.

To share his home caresses,
Uplooking to his human eyes

With silvan tendernesses.
COWPER'S GRAVE.
“ It is a place where poets crowned " But while, in blindness he remained
May feel the heart's decaying

Unconscious of the guiding,
It is a place where happy saints

And things provided came without May weep amid their praying

The sweet sense of providing, Yet let the grief and hunbleness,

He testified this solemn truth, As low as silence, languish;

Though frenzy desolatedEarth surely now may give her calm Nor man, nor nature satisfy, To whom she gave her anguish.

When only God created !

a

"O poets ! from a maniac's tongue

Was poured the deathless singing!
O Christians ! at your cross of hope

A hopeless hand was clinging!
O men ! this man, in brotherhood,

Your weary paths beguiling,
Groaned inly while he taught you peace,

And died while ye were smiling!

" Like a sick.child that knoweth not

His mother while she blesses,
And droppeth on his burning brow

The coolness of her kisses;
That turns his fevered eyes around-

‘My mother! where's my mother?'
As if such tender words and looks

Could come from any other !

“And now, what time ye all may read “ The fever gone, with leaps of heart Through dimming tears his story

He sees her bending o'er him ; How discord on the music fell,

Her face all pale from watchful love, And darkness on the glory

Th' un weary love she bore him! And how, when one by one, sweet sounds Thus, woke the poet from the dream And wandering lights departed,

His life's long fever gave him, He wore no less a loving face,

Beneath these deep pathetic eyes Because so broken-hearted

Which closed in death, to save him !

" He shall be strong to sanctify

The poet's high vocation,
And bow the meekest Christian down

In meeker adoration :

“ Thus ! oh, not thus ! no type of earth

Could image that awaking,
Wherein he scarcely heard the chant

Of seraphs, round him breaking

6

Or felt the new immortal throb

and ceased almost to be beautiful ; Of soul from body parted ;

but the solemnity of the mountainBut felt those eyes alone, and knew ranges, lying far and wide in the blue • My Saviour ! not deserted !

haze that precedes the twilight, at

tracts the eyes of a spirit desirous of “ Deserted! who hath dreamt that when

the calm momently settling deeper and The cross in darkness rested,

deeper on them all—the uniting calm Upon the Victim's hidden face

of earth and heaven. No love was manifested ?

Strange and sad to say—but it is What frantic hands outstretched have e'er

the truth-seldom during all this long Th' atoning drops averted

lonely day-only then when writing What tears have washed them from the soul

down a few words concerning them— That one should be deserted ?

have we thought of them whom we

visited in the Castle-last time we were “ Deserted! God could separate

there—and who so soon afterwards From His own essence rather :

were dust! To-night we shall go to And Adam's sins have swept between

the Old Burial Place, and sit by their The righteous Son and Father

Tomb. Yea! once, Immanuel's orphaned cry,

Like subterranean music the noise His universe hath shaken

of the Bagpipe comes from the Castle It went up single, echoless,

to our Cave. That oldest of CeltsMy God, I am forsaken !'

no raven can be his contemporary

is now strutting like a Turkey-cock " It went up from the Holy's lips with his tail up, to and fro on the esAmid his lost creation,

planade-blowing out from below his That of the lost, no son should use elbow “ The Gathering of the Clans" Those words of desolation ;

--for the Yacht is coming up the Loch That earth's worst frenzies, marring hope, goose-winged before the wind, and Should mar not hope's fruition ;

Donald is saluting the advent of his And I, on Cowper's grave, should see

Chieftain, on his return from a victoHis rapture, in a vision !!!

rious expedition into the Forest against

the King of the Red-Deer. And there More to the mind than to the eye goes the Gong—struck by the Hindu. -or rather to some perception be- An hour to dinner-time—and we must longing to all the senses—is manifest- descend to our toilet—for there is to ed the change that steals over nature be a brilliant company this evening at towards the to-fall of the day—such the Castle, and we shall show them in change as is now going on among the

full fig

Lowland Gentleman of the mountains, and informs us, who have

Old School. been taking no heed of time, of the

Ha! Heaven bless thee! and hath very hour, which we could name within a few minutes as surely as if our own Genevieve come again to the there were a clock to look at in the Cave to tend our steps down the dell niche above our head. Is that the and across the bridges ? A kiss-not murmur of insects or of the sea ?

on thy lips—but on thy foreheadThat hoarser noise, till now inaudible, wreath our arm in thine-and

ample and serene ! Ay — let us is of the cataract behind the Castle, and it tells of Cliffs.

“ Like Morning brought by Night,” The small Loch is smaller in sha- shall be our entrance into the Home dow has lost much of its expression of thy Fathers.

a

Edinburgh: Printed by Ballantyne and Company, Paul's Wurk.

285 317

335

345

.

.

358

369

CHRISTOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS,
THE RECIPROCITY AND COLONIAL SYSTEMS,
LEGENDARY LORE. LAND AND SEA,
WHIG-RADICAL CORRUPTION,
MEMORANDA OF OUR VILLAGE, AND ITS FOUNDERS,
LETTERS OF AN ATTACHÉ,
LOVE AND GEOLOGY,
SophocleS_TRACHINIE,
LINES, SUGGESTED BY A POEM CALLED THE “ FlighT OF YOUTH,"
CORONATION SONNETS,
THE SENTIMENT OF FAMILY ANTIQUITY,
THE ALCESTIS OF EURIPIDES. TRANSLATED BY MR CHAPMAN,

386

.

400 401

402

403

408

EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET,

EDINBURGH:

AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON.
To whom Communications (post paid) may be addressed.

SOLD ALSO BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND CO, EDINBURGII

Or felt the new immortal throb

-and ceased almost to be beautiful ; Of soul from body parted ;

but the solemnity of the mountain. But felt those eyes alone, and knew ranges, lying far and wide in the blue • My Saviour ! not deserted l’

haze that precedes the twilight, at

tracts the eyes of a spirit desirous of “ Deserted ! who hath dreamt that when the calm momently settling deeper and The cross in darkness rested,

deeper on them all the uniting calm Upon the Victim's hidden face

of earth and heaven. No love was manifested ? What frantic hands outstretched have e'er the truth-seldom during all this long

Strange and sad to say—but it is Th' atoning drops avertedWhat tears have washed them from the lonely day—only then when writing

down a few words concerning them soul That one should be deserted ?

have we thought of them whom we

visited in the Castle--last time we were “ Deserted! God could separate

there and who so soon afterwards From His own essence rather :

were dust! To-night we shall go to And Adam's sins have swept between

the Old Burial Place, and sit by their The righteous Son and Father

Tomb. Yea! once, Immanuel's orphaned cry,

Like subterranean music the noise His universe hath shaken

of the Bagpipe comes from the Castle It went up single, echoless,

to our Cave. That oldest of Celts• My God, I am forsaken!'

no raven can be his contemporary

is now strutting like a Turkey-cock “ It went up from the Holy's lips with his tail up, to and fro on the esAmid his lost creation,

planade-blowing out from below his That of the lost, no son should use elbow “ The Gathering of the Clans" Those words of desolation;

--for the Yacht is coming up the Loch That earth's worst frenzies, marring hope, goose-winged before the wind, and Should mar not hope's fruition ;

Donald is saluting the advent of his And I, on Cowper's grave, should see

Chieftain, on his return from a victoHis rapture, in a vision !”

rious expedition into the Forest against More to the mind than to the eye

the King of the Red-Deer. And there -or rather to some perception be- An hour to dinner-time—and we must

goes the Gong-struck by the Hindu. longing to all the senses—is manifest- descend to our toilet—for there is to ed the change that steals over nature be a brilliant company this evening at towards the to-fall of the day—such the Castle, and we shall show them in change as is now going on among the full fig a Lowland Gentleman of the mountains, and informs us, who have Old School. been taking no heed of time, of the

Ha! Heaven bless thee! and hath very hour, which we could name within a few minutes as surely as if our own Genevieve come again to the

Cave to tend our steps down the dell there were a clock look at in the and across the bridges? A kiss-not niche above our head. Is that the murmur of insects or of the sea ?

on thy lips—but on thy forehead

Ay – let us That hoarser noise, till now inaudible, ample and serene !

wreath our arm in thine-and is of the cataract behind the Castle, and it tells of Cliffs.

“ Like Morning brought by Night," The small Loch is smaller in sha- shall be our entrance into the Home dow-has lost much of its expression of thy Fathers.

Edinburgh : Printed by Ballantyne and Company, Paul's Wurk.

285

.

317

335

345

358

369

CHRISTOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS,
THE RECIPROCITY AND COLONIAL SYSTEMS,
LEGENDARY LORE. LAND AND SEA,
WHIG-RADICAL CORRUPTION,
MEMORANDA OF Our VILLAGE, AND ITS FOUNDERS,
LETTERS OF AN ATTACHÉ,
LOVE AND GEOLOGY,
SOPHOCLES_TRACHINIE,
LINES, SUGGESTED BY A POEM CALLED THE “ Flight or Youth,"
CORONATION SONNETS,
THE SENTIMENT OF FAMILY ANTIQUITY,
THE ALCESTIS OF EURIPIDES. TRANSLATED BY MR CHAPMAN,

386

400 401

402

403

408

EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET,

EDINBURGH:

AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON.
To whom Communications (post paid) may be addh essed.

SOLD ALSO BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND CO, EDINBURGH