VOL. X. THE BATTLE OF ROSLIN." Dulce est pro patria mori. HARK!-'twas the trumpet rung! And, glancing far these woods among And Echo hath combined Her mimic tones, to breathe the tale For Saxon foes invade A proud, but kingless, realm; 'Tis Confray, on destruction bent,' Content with fetter'd hand. Not while one patriot breathes, The Wallace and The Bruce have thrown The heart, to youth and valour known, While even the peasant, toiling lone, Recalls their deeds to mind! The Cumin lets not home To tell a bloodless tale ; And forth, in arms, with Frazer roam In Roslin's wild and wooded glen, Three camps divided raise Their snowy tops on high; The breeze unfurling flag displays The tongue of Mirth is jocund there; Blithe carols hail the matin light; Though lurking Death, and gloomy Care, Are watching, in despite, Bright eyes that now are glancing fair, Baffled, and backward borne, Is England's foremost war :- 2 P wente, And to himself ful oft he said, 'Alas! And hither home I came when it was eve, And shall, till I may sene her efter in Troie !'" We regret never having been able to obtain a sight of the Scottish Continuation of the Troilus, by Henrysoun. All we do know of it-the incident of the faithless Creseide, afflicted by leprosy and want, asking alms of her former lover, is beautifully imagined. It would be an endless affair to discuss the controversy concerning the origin of this tale. Godwin, we think, has sufficiently disproved Tyrwhitt's supposed discovery of its having been borrowed from the Philostrato of Boccaccio. All the commentators seem to lay too much stress on the poet's own declaration of its being taken from Lolius. It was a common custom with the old romancers to give an air of verisimilitude to their legend, by referring to the authority of some classic name, real or pretended. The grave excuses made by the poet in his Canterbury Tales, that his fictitious personages so said, and consequently that he must so relate, might have shewn to the critics the true value of his declaration about Lolius or Lollius, who, if there ever was such a person, must have been some such paraphraser as Dictys or Dares, from whom the poet gathered merely the names and local knowledge necessary for his story. THE CHANGE. But yesterday, and we were one; I have not learn'd the grovelling art, To share thy bosom with another! And little did I think, to see A dream so soft to grief awaken; The April cloud is seen,—is flown,- No firmer tie man trusts upon, When link'd to bliss-by woman's favours. A VOL. X. THE BATTLE OF ROSLIN. Dulce est pro patria mori. HARK!—'twas the trumpet rung !— And, glancing far these woods among Her mimic tones, to breathe the tale For Saxon foes invade A proud, but kingless, realm; 'Tis Confray, on destruction bent, Content with fetter'd hand. A third time warlike cheers are raised Blue Esk, with murmuring stream, Between its rocky banks, which seem With beechen groves, and oaken boughs, Three triumphs in a day! Three hosts subdued by one! Or have a thought that aught intrude, Roslin, thy castle grey Survives the wrecks of Time; With pinnacles sublime: But, when thy battlements shall sink, And, like a vision, leave the scene, The patriot of the land, to think Of glories that have been! THE SILENT GRAVE. A Sonnet. "Twas when mid forests dark the night winds raged, Of torrents wild, and fierce, and unassuaged, (For deep truths flash on contemplation's eyes,) My thoughts through pathless labyrinths did run ;— Whom I had dearly loved in early youth, And there I mused, till from the turf mine eye Till from the turf he rose before mine eye, A A THE NATIVE MELÓDY. Stanzas, supposed to be repeated by an Exile. Flash from my heart through every vein !— And conjures up, with viewless wand, 'Tis sweet, unutterably sweet, Upon a far and foreign strand, And mix with earth's neglected clay! Oh! many a time, with many a tear Cold heart, or tearless eye was found :- Tones hymn'd so sweet, or loved so well! And can they be less welcome now, Afar from all that blessed me, when MOSCOW. Written after the Invasion of Russia by the French. THE day-star was retiring in the south Behind a ridge of clouds, as twilight fell A |