Classic Poem

ODE XVI.

ADDRESSED TO DR. ROBERT ANDERSON,

OF HERIOT'S-GREEN, EDINBURGH,

AFTER A VISIT PAID HIM BY THE AUTHOR, AND VARIOUS
PEDESTRIAN EXCURSIONS IN SCOTLAND .

Where is the KING of SONGS ? He sleeps in death:
No more around him press the mail-clad throng;
He rolls no more the death-denouncing song;
Hush'd is the storm of war, and hush'd is Ossian's breath.
Yes! sleeps the bard: but still near Caron's stream
Resounds in fancy's ear his mournful lyre;
And oft where Clytha's winding waters gleam,
Shall pilgrim-poets burn with kindred fire.
Dark is the poet's eye — but shines his name,
As, mid obstructing clouds, still gleams the solar flame.

II.

Where now D UNBAR ? The bard has run his race:
But glitters still the G OLDEN T ERGE on high;
Nor shall the thunder storm, that sweeps the sky,
Nor light'ning's flash the glorious orb deface.
D UNKELD , no more the heaven-directed chaunt
Within thy sainted wall may sound again.
But thou, as once the muse's favourite haunt —
Shalt live in-D OUGLAS' pure Virgilian strain:
While time devours the castle's crumbling wall,
And roofless abbies pine, low-tottering to their fall.

III.

Oh! Tweed, say, do thy busy waters glide
With patriot ardour, or with bigot rage?
In union dost thou distant friends engage?
Or flow, a boundary river, to divide?
If love direct, roll on, thou generous stream,
Thy banks, oh! Tweed, I kiss, and hail thee friend:
But while thy waters, serpent-winding gleam,
Should serpent-treacheries on thy course attend,
Thy banks disdainful would I rove along,
Tho' every bard that-sings, should raise thee in his song.

IV.

But, no, my friend: I read thy candid page,
And trace the footsteps of a manly mind:
Be mine, with chaplets Scotian brows to bind,
While England's bards thy studious hours engage.
The Highland nymph shall melt with England's lay;
And English ears be charm'd with Scotia's song;
Tho' rude the language, yet to themes so gay
The softest streams of melody belong.
Still, Ramsay, shall thy G ENTLE S HEPHERD please,
Still, B URNS , thy rustic mirths, and amorous minstrelsies.

V.

Oh! may I view again with ravish'd sight,
As when with thee, my Anderson, I stray'd,
And all the wonder varying scene survey'd,
Seas, hills, and city fair from Calton's height!
And hear, (for Scotia's rhymes ah! soon shall fail)
Some Ednam bard awake the trembling string,
Some tuneful youth of charming Tiviot-dale,
Some Kelso songstress love's dear raptures sing.
Language may change; but song shall never die,
Till beauty fail to charm, till love forget to sigh.