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Myriads shall wish that their probation here

Had ceas'd, like thine, in childhood's early bloom : Let resignation then dry up the tear Parental fondness sheds upon thy tomb.

MARRYAT.

THE CUCKOO.

How sweet the first sound of the cuckoo's note!
Whence is the magic pleasure of the sound?
How do we long recall the very tree,
Or bush, near which we stood, when on the ear
The unexpected note, “ cuckoo !" again,
And yet again, came down the budding vale !
It is the voice of spring among the trees ;
It tells of lengthening days, of coming blooms;
It is the symphony of many a song.
See! there the stranger flies, close to the ground,
With hawk-like pinions of a leaden blue.
Poor wanderer ! from hedge to hedge she flies,
And trusts her offspring to another's care :
The sooty-plum'd hedge-sparrow frequent acts
The foster-mother, warming into life
The youngling destin'd to supplant her own.
Meanwhile the cuckoo sings her idle song,
Monotonous, yet sweet, now here, now there ;
Herself but rarely seen : nor does she cease
Her changeless note, until the broom, full blown,
Give warning that her time for flight is come.
Thus, ever journeying on from land to land,
She, sole of all the innumerous feather'd tribes,
Passes a stranger's life, without a home.
Home! word delightful to the heart of man,
And bird, and beast! - Small word, yet not the less
Significant -- comprising all !
Whatever to affection is most dear,
Is all included in that little word,
Wife, children, father, mother, brother, friend !

GRAHAME.

COMFORT IN AFFLICTION.

WHEN gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few ;
On Him I lean, who not in vain
Experienc'd every human pain ;
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.

If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way,
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the thing I would not do —
Still He, who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

If wounded love my bosom swell,
Despis'd by those I priz'd too well,
He shall his pitying aid bestow,
Who felt on earth severer woe,
At once betray'd, denied, or fled,
By those who shar'd his daily bread.

When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismay'd, my spirit dies,
Yet He who once vouchsaf'd to bear
The sickening anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers what was once a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me— for a little while ;
Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For thou did'st weep o'er Lazarus dead.

And 0, when I have safely past
Through every conflict

but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My painful bed — for Thou hast died ;
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away!

GRANT.

INSCRIPTION IN AN ARBOUR.

YOUTH, who haply wander'st by,
If for Tuscan strains thou sigh,
Scenes by Titian's pencil drest,
Odours from Sabæa blest,
Seek the bright abode of power,
And come not to this simple bower.

But if the thrush with warble clear,
Or whistling blackbird charm thine ear ;
Or rooks, that sail with solemn sound
Duly their native pines around;
Or murmuring bee; or bleating shrill
Of lambkins from the sheltering hill :

If thine eye delight to rove
O'er hazel

and beechen grove ;
Sunny field ! and shady nook,
Ting'd with curls of azure smoke;
And flocks, whose snowy fleeces crown
The slope side of the russet down.

copse,

If thou seek no richer smell
Than such as scents the cowslip bell ;
Or southern gale, that blows more sweet
From the tufted violet ;
Or the gadding woodbine wreath ;
Or the heifer's balmy breath ;

Youth, within this simple bower,
Come, and pass the vacant hour,
Not useless, if the scene dispense
Calm peace and pleasure to the sense,
And thy grateful spirit raise
The Maker for his works to praise.

BISHOP MANT.

MASSACRE OF GLENCOE.'

“Oh! tell me, harper, wherefore flow
Thy wayward notes of wail and woe,
Far down the desert of Glencoe,

Where none may list their melody?
Say, harp'st thou to the mists that fly,
Or to the dun deer glancing by,
Or to the eagle that from high

Screams chorus to thy minstrelsy ?”

The circumstances of the shocking and treacherous massacre of Glencoe, are these : — Many of the Highland chieftains refused to submit to William's government, among whom was Macdonald of Glencoe. William proclaimed an indemnity to all who should take the oaths of allegiance by a certain day, denouncing military execution against those who should fail to do so after the end of December. Intimidated by this proclamation, Macdonald resolved to submit, and repaired on the last day of the month to Fort William, and tendered his oath to the governor of the fortress, who refused to administer it, not being a civil magistrate, and

“ No, not to these, for these have rest;-
The mist-wreath has the mountain crest,
The stag his lair, the erne her nest,

Abode of lone security.
But those for whom I pour the lay,
Nor wild wood deep, nor mountain gray,
Nor this deep dale, that shrouds from day,

Could screen from treach'rous cruelty.

“ Their flag was furld, and mute their drum, The

very household dogs were dumb,
Unwont to bay at guests that come

In guise of hospitality.
His blithest notes the piper plied,
Her gayest snood the maiden tied,
The dame her distaff flung aside,

To tend her kindly housewifery.

Macdonald set out for Inverary; but from the ground being covered with snow and the roads almost impassable, he arrived one day after the prescribed time. In consideration of his dis. appointment, the sheriff administered the oath, and Macdonald returned home in full assurance of safety. The king, however, in ignorance of Macdonald's submission, signed a warrant to put the whole inhabitants of the valley of Glencoe to the sword. Captain Campbell of Glenlyon marched into Glencoe with a party of soldiers, and on his declaring he came as a friend, was received with hospitality by Macdonald. After passing fifteen days in the greatest cordiality, this party of ruffians suddenly attacked their unsuspecting host and his unoffending people, and put them to death, killing even children who clung to their knees for mercy. Macdonald himself was shot in the arms of his wife, who died next day in a state of distraction. All the houses were burnt, the cattle and effects taken away, and the helpless women and children left without covering, food, or shelter, in the midst of snow, six miles from any inhabited dwelling. Most of them perished from cold and hunger, before they could receive assistance. This shocking massacre excited general horror and indignation, and although the king disclaimed any part in it, yet, as he never punished the perpetrators, it remains an indelible stain on his character.

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