Long had I watch'd thy dark foreboding brow,

What time thy bofom fcorn'd its dearest vow!
Sad, though I wept the friend, the lover chang'd,

Still thy cold look was fcornful and estrang'd,

Till from thy pity, love, and fhelter thrown,

I wander'd, hopeless, friendless, and alone.!

40

"Oh! righteous Heav'n! 'twas then my tortur'd foul

First gave to wrath unlimited controul !

Adieu the filent look! the ftreaming eye!

The murmur'd plaint ! the deep heart-heaving figh!

Long flumb'ring Vengeance wakes to better deeds;

He fhrieks, he falls, the perjur'd Lover bleeds!

Now the laft laugh of agony is o'er,

And pale in blood he fleeps, to wake no more!

I

45

50

""Tis done! the flame of hate no longer burns; Nature relents; but, ah! too late returns!

Why does my foul this gush of fondness feel?

Trembling and faint, I drop the guilty steel!

Cold on my heart the hand of terror lies,
And shades of horror close my languid eyes!—

55

"Oh! 'twas a deed of Murder's deepest grain ! Could B- -k's foul fo true to wrath remain ? A friend long true, a once fond lover fell!Where Love was foster'd, could not Pity dwell?

60

"Unhappy youth! while yon pale crefcent glows,

To watch on filent Nature's deep repose,

Thy fleepless spirit, breathing from the tomb,

Foretells my fate, and fummons me to come!

Once more I fee thy sheeted spectre ftand,

Roll the dim eye, and wave the paly hand!

"Soon may this fluttering fpark of vital flame Forfake its languid melancholy frame!

Soon may thefe eyes their trembling luftre close,
Welcome the dreamless night of long repose!

Soon may this woe-worn spirit feek the bourne

Where, lull'd to flumber, Grief forgets to mourn!"

sormuful mood

On the wind-shaken weeds that enilesom the bower

Where the home of my forefathers stood..
All round & wild is their roofless abodes.
And lonely the dark raven's sheltering trie
And travelld by few is the grass coverd road
Where the hunter of deer & the Warrior trade

To his hills that encircle the sea..

ruinous Walk,

Yet wandring, I found, on my
By the dial-stone aged and green,

One rove of the wilderness left on its stalk,
To mark where a garden had been :
Like a brotherless herrict, the last of its space.

All wild in the silence of Nature it drew...

From each wandering sunbeam a

2 lonely

Sembrace For the nightweed & thom overshadowd the place

When the flow'r of my fortyfathers grew.

Sweet bud of the Wilicons, comblem of all.

That remains in my

desolate heart_

The fabric of bliss to its antre may falt – But patience shall never depart __

nes fonchantime aft vernal

Though the scenes

Fr. bright

In the days of delusion by fancy combin d