I love thee, Dee, thy banks and glades, Ye shades that echo'd to his vows, CXII. IS THERE A MAN WHOSE BREAST NE'ER GLOW'D. AIR-Is there a heart that never lov'd. Is there a man whose breast ne'er glow'd Whose lips with accents never flow'd Oh! bear him hence to Asia's plains, Or Afric's desarts drear, Where not a ray of freedom deigns The humble hut to cheer. Oh! there's a charm in Liberty! A spell of heavenly birth, Which souls from meaner cares can free, CXIII. THE LOVELY MAID OF ORMADALE. When sets the sun o'er Lomond's height, To blaze upon the western wave, When peace and love possess the grove, And echo sleeps within its cave; Led by love's soft endearing charms, I stray the pathless winding vale, And hail the hour that gives to me The lovely maid of Ormadale. Her eyes outshine the star of night, As angel smile she aye will be Let fortune soothe the heart of care, And wealth to all its votaries give; Be mine the rosy smile of love, And in its blissful arms to live: I would resign fair India's wealth, And sweet Arabia's spicy gale, For balmy eve and Scotian bower, With thee, lov'd maid of Ormadale, CXIV. AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY. At the close of the day, in the sacred aisle, 'Tis sweet to sit and list the while To the notes of the vesper hymn. When the silver moon, and the evening star, Are through the cloister beaming, And the notes of the choir, though distant far, Like an angel's song are streaming. Then every care from the tranquil breast, Each wild desire is hush'd to rest, Each hope is turn'd to Heaven. There would I wish to linger still, Till my heart had hush'd her motion, Nor with less holy feelings thrill, Than mild meck-eyed devotion. CXV. THE EMIGRANT. From his booth on the hill the sad shepherd retires, On his arm hung his partner of joy and of woe; By their side the dear pledges of love cheerful smil'd, O hard cruel Lordling, thy mandate's severe, |