To lower Orders are affign'd The humbler ranks of Human-kind, The ruftic Bard, the lab'ring Hind, 'The Artisan; 'All chuse, as, various they're inclin'd, 'The various man. • WHEN yellow waves the heavy grain, 3 The threat'ning Storm, some, strongly rein; • Some teach to meliorate the plain, • With tillage-skill; And fome instruct the shepherd-train, 'SOME hint the Lover's harmless wile; 'Some grace the Maiden's artless smile; 'Some foothe the Lab'rer's weary toil, For humble gains, 'And • And make his cottage-scenes beguile His cares and pains. SOME bounded to a district-space, Explore at large Man's infant race, • To mark the embryotic trace • Of rustic Bard; • And careful note each op'ning grace, • A guide and guard. * Of these am I-Coila my name; And this district as mine I claim, Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame, * Held ruling pow'r : 'I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful flame, • Thy natal hour. WITH future hope, I oft would gaze, 'Fond, on thy little, early ways, Thy 6 • In uncouth rhymes, Thy rudely-caroll'd, chiming phrafe, Fir'd at the simple, artless lays Of other times. • I SAW thee seek the founding shore, • Delighted with the dashing roar; 6 Or when the North his fleecy store Drove thro' the sky, I faw grim Nature's visage hoar, Struck thy young eye. Or when the deep green-mantled Earth, • Warm cherish'd ev'ry flow'ret's birth, And joy and music pouring forth, 'In ev'ry grove, I faw thee eye the gen'ral mirth With boundless love. WHEN • WHEN ripen'd fields, and azure skies, • Call'd forth the Reapers rastling noise, I faw thee leave their ev'ning joys, 'And lonely stalk, 'To vent thy bosom's swelling rife, 6 'In pensive walk. • WHEN youthful Love, warm-blushing, strong, Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along, 'Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, 'Th' adored Name, 'I taught thee how to pour in song, 'I SAW thy pulse's maddening play, 'Wild-fend thee Pleasure's devious way, 'Mifled by Fancy's meteor-ray, By Paffion driv'n; But But yet the light that led astray Was light from Heaven. 'I TAUGHT thy manners-painting strains, The loves, the ways of simple swains, 'Till now, w, o'er all my wide domains, Thy fame extends; * And fome, the pride of Coila's plains, Become thy friends, * THOU canfst not learn, nor I can show, • To paint with Thomson's landscape-glow; Or wake the bofom-melting throe, • With Shensione's art; 'Or pour, with Gray, the moving flow, YET, all beneath th' unrivall'd Rofe, The lowly Daisy sweetly blows; VOL. I. P 6 Tho |