O Henderson! the man! the brother!
And art thou gone, and gone for ever!
And hast thou crost that unknown river,
Life's dreary bound!
Like thee, where shall I find another,
The world around!

Go to your sculptured tombs, ye Great,
In a' the tinsel trash o' state!

But by thy honest turf I'll wait,

Thou man of worth!

And weep the ae best fellow's fate

E'er lay in earth.

THE EPITAPH.

Stop, passenger! my story's brief;
And truth I shall relate, man;
I tell nae common tale o' grief,
For Matthew was a great man.
If thou uncommon merit hast,
Yet spurn'd at fortune's door, man;
A look of pity hither cast,

For Matthew was a poor man.
If thou a noble sodger art,

That passest by this grave, man, There moulders here a gallant heart; For Matthew was a brave man. If thou on men, their works and ways,

Canst throw uncommon light, man; Here lies wha weel had won the praise, For Matthew was a bright man. If thou at friendship's sacred ca' Wad life itself resign, man; The sympathetic tear maun fa',

For Matthew was a kind man.

If thou art staunch without a stain,
Like the unchanging blue, man;
This was a kinsman o' thy ain,

For Matthew was a true man.

If thou hast wit, and fun, and fire,
And ne'er guid wine did fear, man;
This was thy billie, dam, and sire,
For Matthew was a queer man.

If ony whiggish whingin sot

To blame poor Matthew dare, man;
May dool and sorrow be his lot,
For Matthew was a rare man,

THE LAMENT. OCCASIONED BY THE UNFOR-
TUNATE ISSUE OF A FRIEND'S AMOUR.

O thou pale orb, that silent shines,
While care-untroubled mortals sleep!
Thou seest a wretch that inly pines,
And wanders here to wail and weep!
With woe I nightly vigils keep,

Beneath thy wan unwarming beam;
And mourn, in lamentation deep,
How life and love are all a dream.

I joyless view thy rays adorn

The faintly-marked distant hill:
I joyless view thy trembling horn,
Reflected in the gurgling rill:
My fondly-fluttering heart, be still!

Thou busy power, Remembrance, cease!

Ah! must the agonizing thrill

For ever bar returning peace!

No idly-feign'd poetic pains,

My sad, love-lorn lamentings claim;
No shepherd's pipe-Arcadian strains;

No fabled tortures, quaint and tame :
The plighted faith; the mutual flame;
The oft attested powers above;
The promised Father's tender name :
These were the pledges of my love!

Encircled in her clasping arms,

How have the raptured moments flown! How have I wish'd for fortune's charms, For her dear sake, and hers alone! And must I think it! is she gone,

My secret heart's exulting boast ?
And does she heedless hear my groan?
And is she ever, ever lost?

Oh! can she bear so base a heart,
So lost to honour, lost to truth,
As from the fondest lover part,

The plighted husband of her youth?
Alas! life's path may be unsmooth!

Her way may lie through rough distress! Then, who her pangs and pains will soothe, Her sorrows share, and make them less?

Ye winged hours that o'er us past,

Enraptured more, the more enjoy'd, Your dear remembrance in my breast,

My fondly-treasured thoughts employ'd. That breast, how dreary now, and void, For her too scanty once of room! Even every ray of hope destroy'd, And not a wish to gild the gloom!

The morn that warns the' approaching day,
Awakes me up to toil and woe:
I see the hours in long array,

That I must suffer, lingering, slow.
Full many a pang, and many a throe,
Keen recollection's direful train,
Must ring my soul, ere Phœbus, low,
Shall kiss the distant, western main.

And when my nightly couch I try,
Sore-harass'd out with care and grief,
My toil-beat nerves, and tear-worn eye,
Keep watchings with the nightly thief:
Or if I slumber, fancy, chief,

Reigns haggard-wild, in sore affright :
Even day, all bitter, brings relief,

From such a horror-breathing night.

O! thou bright queen, who o'er the' expanse Now highest reign'st, with boundless sway! Oft has thy silent-marking glance

Observed us, fondly-wandering, stray! The time, unheeded, sped away,

While love's luxurious pulse beat high, Beneath thy silver-gleaming ray,

To mark the mutual-kindling eye.

Oh! scenes in strong remembrance set!
Scenes, never, never to return!

Scenes, if in stupor I forget,

Again I feel, again I burn!
From every joy and pleasure torn,
Life's weary vale I'll wander through;
And hopeless, comfortless, I'll mourn
A faithless woman's broken vow.

LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN. The wind blew hollow frae the hills,

By fits the sun's departing beam Look'd on the fading yellow woods

That waved o'er Lugar's winding stream; Beneath a craigy steep, a bard,

Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail'd his lord, Whom death had all untimely ta'en.

He lean'd him to an ancient aik,

Whose trunk was mouldering down with years;

His locks were bleached white wi' time!
His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears!
And as he touch'd his trembling harp,
And as he tuned his doleful sang,
The winds, lamenting through their caves,
To echo bore the notes alang.
"Ye scatter'd birds that faintly sing,
The reliques of the vernal quire!
Ye woods that shed on a' the winds
The honours of the aged year!
A few short months, and glad and gay
Again ye'll charm the ear and ee;
But nocht in a' revolving time

Can gladness bring again to me.

"I am a bending aged tree,

That long has stood the wind and rain;

But now has come a cruel blast,

And my last hold of earth is gane: Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom;

But I maun lie before the storm,

And ithers plant them in my room.