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Aft down the steep he'd tak a race,

Nor, rinning, flag, Till up he'd climb, wi' rapid pace,

Yon abbey craig.'

There seated, mark, wi' ardour keen,
The skelloch* bright ’mang corn sae green,
The purpled pea, and speckled bean,

A fragrant store!
And vessels sailing, morn and e'en,

To ‘Stirling shore.'

But aftner far, he'd late and air,
To yonder castled heightf repair,
Whar youth's gay sports, relax'd frae care,

Cheat learning's toils,
And round her Doig'st classic chair

Fond genius smiles !

'Twas here, O Forth ! for luve o' thee, Frae wine, and mirth, and cards he'd flee; Here too, unskill'd, sweet Poesy!

He woo'd thy artAlas! nor skill nor guide had he,

Save warmth o'heart!

Yet feckless as his numbers fell,
Nae tongue his peacefu' joys can tell,

• The wild mustard,

+ The castle hill of Stirling, from which the finest view of the Carse is seen.

Dr. David Doig, master of the Grammar School, where he taught near forty years. A man whose uncommon erudition and genius entitled to a higher station.

Whan crooning quiet by himsel,

He fram’d the lay On Gowland's whin-beflowered hill

And rocky brae.

How richly then the landscape glow'd
As fast the welcome numbers flow'd !
How smooth the plying bargie* row'd

Frae shore to shore !
How saft the kye in King's park low'd,

At milking hour!

And ah! how sweet the murmur rang
Frae busy labour's rural thrang !
That sta' the upland heights amang,

And echoing spread
Owre Castle, Butts, and Knot, alang

The Backwalk shade;

Dear, peacefu' scenes! how sweet to sing !
Whan youth and luve are on the wing;
Whan morn's fresh gales their fragrance bring,

Wi' balmy sough,
And e’ening paints (how green in spring !)

The 'braes o' Tough!'

But sweet, thro' a' the varying year
Will Airthrie's banks and woods appear;
And crouse Craigforth, and princely Keir,

That crowns the scene;
And Allan water, glittering near

Its bleaching green.

* The abbey ferry boat.

And Blair, half hid in sylvan shade,
Where Taste and Home* delighted stray'd;
What time? whan Lare and Genius fled

Frae bar and town,
To Teath's clear stream, that babbling play'd

By Castle Down

And Shaw-park, gilt wi' e'ening's ray;
And Embro's castle, distant grey;t
Wi’ Alva, screen'd near Aichil brae,

’Mang grove and bower! And rich Clackmannan, rising gay,

Wi’ woods and tower;

These aft he trac'd, fond nature's child!
But maist at e’ening blushing mild,
As owre the western cliffs sae wild

O’Lomond'st height
The sun in setting glory smild

Wi' purple light!

'Twas then, by gloaming's sober hour,
He'd court some solitude obscure;
Or round Cam’skenneth's ancient tower,

Henry Home, Lord Kames, one of the Senators of the College of Justice, and author of many ingenious and learned performances.

+ Edinburgh castle, though distant 35 miles from Stirling, is seen from the castle hill in a favourable day.

Ben Lomond, the highest of the Grampian mountains that bound the Carse of Stirling to the north-west.

$ The abbey of Cambuskenneth, founded by David 1. king of Scotland, anno 1147.

Whar winds Forth's stream, He'd wander, meditate, and pour

This moral theme :

*How still and solemn steals the gloom
Mild owre the garden's fading bloom!
Dim Aits the bat athwart the tomb,

On leathern wing;
Hark! what bemoan’d the slaughter'd doom

O’Scotia's king?

"Twas but the dove that woos his mate,
Unmindfu' o' the monarch's fate :
Whar, Grandeur, now thy regal state?

Unmarkt!-and gane's
Nor sculptur'd verse records thy date,

Nor moss-grown stane!

Yet regal pomp and courtly show,
Aft grac'd yon castle's princely brow,
Whan Scotland's kings, wi' patriot glow,

Delighted woo's
Strevlina's fertile fields below,

And winding food!

Sublime retreat! belov'd! admir'd!
Whase rural charms sae oft conspir'd
To calm the raging breast, whan fir'd

'Gainst lawless power, And yield, mid social sweets retir'd,

Life's happier hour!

To sheathe in peace war's slaughtering sword; To drap the king at friendship’s board;

To draw frae luve's delicious hoard

Her honey'd sweet! And chain fierce valour's lofty lord

At beauty's feet.

Or join the chace, at purple morn,
Owre lawns, and heath-bloom'd mountains borne;
Wi' hound, and hawk, and bugle horn,

And shouting thrang ;
While Sauchie's glens, beflower'd wi' thorn,

The notes prolang ;

Or break the lance, and couch the spear
At tilts and tournaments o' weir,
Whar mony a valiant knight and peer

Display'd their skill,
To courtly beauty, blushing near,

On Lady's hill.

Thus, tun'd to pastime's peacefu' string,
Strevlina's craigs and valley ring;
Blithe was the courtier and the king

By Fortha's flood,
Till Faction soard on raven wing,

Bedrapt wi' blood!

Twas then ilk sport and rural charm
Fled court, and plain, and cheerless farm !-
Rebellion loud, wi' dread alarm,

Skreigh'd wild her cry,
And murder dark, wi’ dagger'd arm

Stood watching by!

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