EHIND us tower the Ochils green, Before us winds the waveless sea; Even like a spectre of the past, Of rapine, feudal strife, and blood, Thou tellest an old, wild, warlike story, When squadrons on thy ramparts stood, With spear and shield, in martial glory! 78 CASTLE CAMPBELL. When, spurning legislation's track, Each strath contained both friends and foes; Then passed unto Macaillian More The drawbridge of thine entrance o'er; And, while within Dunfermline grey Each Celtic chief his chief attended, Then often here, where only now We list the trickling of the rill, The early hunters chased the deer Starting from eyrie high the eagle; And bugle's shrill reveillé blew, And soared the hawk, and bayed the beagle. The times have altered: to the north The gillies of Argyle have gone ; And on thy battlements gleam forth The wild flowers, where their tartans shone. The days of chivalry have fled; The red claymore is scabbarded : No more for foray, or for feud, The fiery-cross a summons blazes, D. M. MOIR. AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE. 79 THE RUINED CASTLE. IME-HALLOWED pile! no more, no more Thou hear'st the hostile cannon roar; No more bold chiefs thy drawbridge pace, To battle, tournament, or chase; No more the valiant man thy towers; No more the lovely grace thy bowers; The falling meteor o'er thee shoots; Where once bloomed rose and eglantine; The bat is clinging to those walls, And the fox nestles in those halls. HENRY NEfle. AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE. OW I gain the mountain's brow, In all the hues of heaven's bow, |