-the notes that rung

From the wild harp, which silent hung
By silver Avon's holy shore,

Till twice an hundred years rolled o'er ;
When she, the bold enchantress, came,
With fearless hand, and heart on flame!
From the pale willow snatched the treasure,
And swept it with a kindred measure,
Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove
With Monfort's hate and Basil's love,
Awakening at the inspired strain,

Deemed their own Shakspeare lived again."

SIR WALTER SCOTT.