TO THE READER. THE succeeding Poem was printed during the Author's absence abroad. The following Preface, explanatory of his motives for writing it, having been accidentally omitted, he now thinks it proper to subjoin it, for the information of the Reader. The following production the Author, previously to his departure from Britain, leaves in the possession of a friend, careless of its future fate, although not insensible of its imperfections. Lest, however, it may hereafter chance to meet the public eye, it may not be improper to observe, that having, at an early period in life, written and injudiciously published a poetical performance on the same subject, which a more mature judgment taught him to condemn, he was desirous of substituting something in its stead, less exceptionable to good taste, and more characteristic of the scenes he has attempted to delineate. Should this be considered as an awkward apology for defects, let it be remembered, that the "Parting Peep at the Carse of Stirling" was executed under various disadvantages;-that, while it was composed amidst the gloom of sickness and solitude, to mitigate distress, it received no fostering sunshine to cherish or to cheer;-that it never met the eye of criticism, nor the kindly strictures of a friend;--and that while it may, without a violation of metaphor, be called the offspring of pain and of pensiveness, it was, amidst other trials, produced under the additional depression of leaving a country, to which the author has every reason to predict he will never return! With regard to the language in which the present Poem is written (and for which perhaps an apology is likewise necessary) the author can only say, that he made choice of the Scottish dialect, not only on account of its superior poetical pathos and simplicity to any other with which he is acquainted, but in his opinion, as the most appropriate to the scenes decribed, and particularly to the historical events he has ventured to introduce. Farther he has nothing to say. Praise, should it ever come, will in all likelihood never reach his ear; and censure, after what has already been advanced in extenuation, must recoil on the unfeeling and fastidious.' Edinburgh, October, 1796. 301 The following elegant lines were sent to the Author by the ingenious writer of the Hindoo Rajah and Modern Philosophers, on reading the Links o' Forth in manuscript. YES! Iv'e perus'd-with new, increas'd delight Still (by the muse's faithful hand portray'd) While tears delicious mix with memory's sigh. Say then, my friend, can feelings warm as these For me, I boast nor critic lore nor skill, Nor classic laws for measur'd numbers know; Enough to feel the bosom's raptur'd thrill, The tear that starts-the heart's spontaneous glow! These! these the muse's magic power attest! These! these the poet's excellence proclaim; And these, while truth and nature warm the breast, Shall deck Forth's artless bard with wreaths of fame. ELIZA HAMILTON. VOL. XXXIX. C c THE LINKS O' FORTH. AH! winding Forth!-smooth wandering tide! O' Strevlin's peerless plain the pride; How pleas'd alang thy verdant side, Whar floweries spring, The muse her untaught numbers tried, And learnt to sing! Whan ardent youth, wi' boiling blood, Unseen, alane, The bardin, rapt in pensive mood, Has pour'd the strain! To beauteous Laura, aft an lang, While glen, and grove, And craig, and echoing valley, rang Wi' fervent love Poor, fond enthusiast! whither stray? |
