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 Langhorne 
 Owen of Carron
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 OWEN OF C A R R O N; 
 
 A 
 
 O E 
 
 M. 
 
 By Dr. L A N G H O R N E. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 - '//i'//i//uoJ»/r.> 
 
 PRINTED FOR EDWARD AND CHARLES DILLY, IN THE POULTRY. 
 
 MDCCLXXVm,
 
 PR 
 
 THIS POEM 3S3^ 
 
 IS INSCRIBKD TO A 
 
 LADY, 
 
 WHOSE ELEGANT TASTE, 
 WHOSE AMIABLE SENSIBILITY, 
 
 AND 
 WHOSE UNAFFECTED FRIENDSHIP, 
 
 HAVE LONG CONTRIBUTED TO THE 
 
 PLEASURE AND HAPPINESS 
 
 o F 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 865278
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THEPvE is fomcthing Romantic in the Story of the 
 following Poem; but the Author has his Rcafons 
 for believing that there is fomething, likevvifc, authentic. 
 On the fimple Circumftances of the ancient Narrative, 
 from which He firft borrowed his Idea, thofc Rcafons are 
 principally founded, and they are fupported by others, 
 with which, in a Work of this Kind, to trouble his 
 Readers would be fupcrfluous.
 
 OWEN OF C A R R O N. 
 
 /^N- Car Ron's Side the Primrofe pale,. 
 
 Why docs it wear a purple Hue ? 
 Ye Maidens fair of Mar li vale, 
 
 Why ftream your Eyes with Pity's Dew ? 
 
 'Tis all with gentle Owen's Blood 
 That purple grows the Primrofe pale ; 
 
 That Pity pours the tender Flood 
 From each fair Eye in Marlivale. 
 
 K The
 
 ( 10 ) 
 
 Tlie Evening Star fate In his Eye, 
 The Sun his golden Treffes gave. 
 
 The North's pure iVIorn her Orient Dye, 
 To Him who refts in yonder Grave ! 
 
 Beneath no high, hiftoric Stone, 
 Tho' nobly born, is Owen laid, 
 
 Stretch'd on the green Wood's Lap alone. 
 He fleeps beneath the waving Shade. 
 
 There many a flowery Race hath fprung, 
 And fled before the Mountain Gale, 
 
 Since firft his Ample Dirge ye fung; 
 Ye Maidens fair of Marlivale ! 
 
 Yet ftill, when May with fragrant Feet 
 Hath wander'd o'er your Meads of Gold, 
 
 That Dirge I hear fo fimply fweet 
 Far echoed from each Evening Fold. 
 
 'Twaj
 
 ( " ) 
 
 n. 
 
 'Twas in the Pride of William's * Day, 
 
 When Scotland's Honours flourlflied flill, 
 That Moray 's Earl, with mighty Sway, 
 
 Bore Rule o'er many a Highland Hill. 
 
 And far for Him their fruitful Store 
 
 The fairer Plains of Car RON fpread ; 
 In Fortune rich, in Offspring poor. 
 
 An only Daughter crown 'd his Bed. 
 
 Oh ! write not poor — the Wealth that flows 
 
 In Waves of Gold round India's Throne, 
 All in her fhining Breafl that glows. 
 
 To Ellem's t Charms, were Earth and Stone. 
 
 * William the Lyon, King of Scotland. 
 
 t The Lady Ellen, only Daughter of John Earl of Moray, betrothed to the Earl of 
 Nithifdale, and afterwards to the Earl Barnard, was efteemed one of the fineft Women 
 in Europe, infomuch that flie had feveral Suitors and Admirers from Foreign Courts. 
 
 B 2 For
 
 ( 12 ) 
 
 For Her the Youth of Scotland figh'd, 
 
 The Frenchman gay, the Spaniard grave, 
 And fmoother Italy applied. 
 
 And many an English Baron brave. 
 
 In Vain by foreign Arts aflali'd, 
 
 No foreign Loves her Breaft beguile, 
 And England's honeft Valour fail'd, 
 
 Paid with a cold, but courteous Smile. 
 
 " Ah! Woe to Thee, young Nithisdale, 
 
 " That o'er thy Cheek thofe Rofes ftray'd, 
 " Thy Breath, the Violet of the Vale, 
 
 *' Thy Voice, the Mufic of the Shade ! 
 
 " Ah ! Woe to Thee, that Ellen's Love 
 
 '* Alone to thy foft Tale would yield ! 
 " For foon thofe gentle Arms fhall prove 
 
 " The Conflia: of a ruder Field." 
 
 4 'Twas
 
 ( 13 ) 
 
 'Twas thus a wayward Sirtcr fpokc, 
 
 And cafl; a rueful Glance behind, 
 As from licr dimwood Glen flie broke. 
 
 And mounted on the moaning Wind. 
 
 She fpokc and vanifh'd, — more unmov'd 
 
 Than Moray's Rocks, when Storms invefl:, 
 
 The valiant Youth by Ellen lov'd 
 With aught that Fear, or Fate fuggeft. 
 
 For Love, methinks, hath Power to raifc 
 
 The Soul beyond a vulgar State ; 
 Th' unconquer'd Banners He difplays 
 
 Control our Fears, and fix our Fate. 
 
 III.
 
 ( H ) 
 
 III. 
 
 'Twas when, on Summer's foftefl Eve, 
 
 Of Clouds that wander 'd Weft aw^y, 
 TwiUght with gentle Hand did weave 
 
 Her Fairy Robe of Night and Day. 
 
 When all the Mountain Gales were ftill, 
 
 And the Wave flept againft the Shore, 
 And the Sun, funk beneath the Hill, 
 
 Left his laft Smile onLEMMERMORE *. 
 
 Led by thofe waking Dreams of Thought 
 
 That warm the young unpradis'd Breaft, 
 Her wonted Bower fweet Ellen fought. 
 
 And Car RON murmur 'd near, and footh'd her into Reft. 
 
 * A Chain of Mountains running through Scotland from Eaft to Weft. 
 
 IV.
 
 ( 15 ) 
 
 IV. 
 
 There is fome kind and courtly Sprite 
 
 That o'er the Reahn of Fancy reigns, 
 Throws Sunfliine on the Maflc of Night, 
 
 And fmilcs at Slumber's powcrlcfs Chains ; 
 
 *Th told, and I believe the Tale, 
 
 At this foft Hour that Sprite was there, 
 
 And fpread with fairer Flowers the Vale, 
 And fiU'd with fweeter founds the Air. 
 
 A Bower he fram'd (for He could frame 
 What long might weary mortal Wight : 
 
 Swift as the Lightning's rapid Flame 
 Darts on the unfufpcdting Sight). 
 
 Aldx
 
 ( i6 ) 
 
 Such Bower he f/am'd with magic Hand, 
 As well that Wizard Bard hath wove, 
 
 In Scenes where fair Armida's Wand 
 Wav'd all the Witcheries of Love. 
 
 Yet was it wrought in fimple Shew ; 
 
 Nor Indian Mines nor Orient Shores 
 Had lent their Glories here to glow, 
 
 Or yielded here their fhining Stores. 
 
 All round a Poplar's trembling Arms 
 
 The Wild Rofe wound her Damafk Flower; 
 
 The Woodbine lent her fpicy Charms, 
 That loves to weave the Lover's Bower. 
 
 The A{h, that courts the Mountain- Air, 
 In all her painted Blooms array'd. 
 
 The Wilding's Eloflbm blufliing fair, 
 Combin'd to form the flowery Shade. 
 
 Witk
 
 ( 17 ) 
 
 With Th}M-nc that loves the brown Hill's Breaft, 
 The Cowflip's fweet, reclining Head, 
 
 The Violet of fky-wovcn Vcft, 
 
 Was all the Fairy Ground befpread. 
 
 But, who is He, whofe Locks fo fair 
 Adown his manly Shoulders flow? 
 
 Befide Him lies the Hunter's Spear, 
 Befide Him fleeps the Warrior's Bow. 
 
 He bends to Ellen — (gentle Sprite, 
 
 Thy fweet fedudive Arts forbear) 
 He courts her Arms with fond Delight, 
 
 And inftant vanifhes in Air. 
 
 V.
 
 ( i8 ) 
 
 V. 
 
 Haft Thou not found at early Dawn 
 
 Some foft Ideas melt away. 
 If o'er fweet Vale, or flowery Lawn, 
 
 The Sprite of Dreams hath bid Thee ftray ? 
 
 Haft Thou not fome fair Obje£t feen. 
 And, when the fleeting Form was paft. 
 Still on Thy Memory found its Mien, 
 And felt the fond Idea laft ? 
 
 Thou haft — and oft the pi£lur'd View, 
 Seen in fome Vifion counted vain. 
 
 Haft ftruck thy wondering Eye anew. 
 And brought the long-loft Dream again. 
 
 With
 
 ( rg ) 
 
 With Warrior-Bow, with Hunter's Spear, 
 With Locks adown his Shoulder fpread. 
 
 Young NiTHisDALE is ranging near — 
 He's ranging near yon mountain's head. 
 
 Scarce had one pale Moon pafs'd away, 
 And fiU'd her filver Urn again. 
 
 When in the devious Chace to ftray. 
 Afar from all his Woodland Train, 
 
 .To Carron's Banks his Fate confign'd, 
 And, all to fliun the fervid Hour, 
 
 He fought fome friendly Shade to find. 
 And found the vifionary Bower. 
 
 C2 Led
 
 ( 20 ) 
 
 VI. ■ 
 
 Led by the golden Star of Love, 
 
 Sweet Ellen took her wonted Way, 
 
 And in the deep-defending Grove 
 
 Sought Refuge from the fervid Day — 
 
 Oh ! — ^\Vho is He whofe Ringlets fair 
 Diforder'd o'er his green Veft flow, 
 
 Reclin'd in Reft — whofe funny Hair 
 
 Half hides the fair Cheek's ardent Glow ? 
 
 'Tis He, that Sprite's illufive Gueft, 
 
 (Ah Me ! that Sprites can Fate control !) 
 
 That lives ftill imag'd on her Ereaft, 
 That lives ftill piftur'd in her Soul. 
 
 As
 
 ( 2r ) 
 
 As when fomc gentle Spirit fled 
 
 From Earth to breathe Elyfian Air, 
 And, in the Train whom we call dead. 
 
 Perceives its long-lov'd Partner there ; 
 
 Soft, fudden Pleafure ruflics o'er, 
 
 Refifllefs, o'er it's airy Frame, 
 To find it's future Fate rcftore 
 
 The Objeft of it's former Flame. 
 
 So Ellen flood — lefs Power to move 
 
 Had Pie, who, bound in Slumber's Chain, 
 Scem'd haply, o'er his Hills to rove, 
 
 And wind his Woodland Chace again. 
 
 She flood, but trembled — mingled Fear, 
 
 And fond Delight and melting Love 
 Seiz'd all her Soul ; fhe came not near, 
 
 She came not near that fated Grove. 
 
 4 She
 
 i 2Z ) 
 
 She ftrives to fly — from Wizzard's Wand 
 As well might powerlefs Captive fly— • 
 
 The new crept Flower falls from her Hand- 
 Ah ! fall not with that Flower to die ! 
 
 VII.
 
 ( 23 ). 
 
 VII. 
 
 Haft Thou not feen fome azure Gleam 
 Smile in the Morning's Orient Eye, 
 
 And fkirt the reddening Cloud 's foft Beam 
 What Time the Sun was hafting nigh ? 
 
 Thou haft — and Thou canft fancy well 
 As any Mufe that meets thine Ear, 
 
 The Soul-fet Eye of Nithisd.ale, 
 When wak'd, it fix'd on Ellen near. 
 
 Silent they gaz 'd — that Silence broke; 
 
 • Hail Goddefs of thefe Groves, He cry'd, 
 * O let me wear thy gentle Yoke ! 
 
 * O let me in thy Service bide ! 
 
 4 ' For
 
 ( 24 ) 
 
 * For Thee I '11 climb the Mountain fteep, 
 
 ' Unwearied chafe the deftin'd Prey, 
 
 * For Thee I'll pierce the Wild-wood deep, 
 
 * And part the Sprays that vex thy Way,' 
 
 For Thee — ' O Stranger, ceafe,' fhe faid. 
 And fwift away, like Daphne, flew. 
 
 But Daphne's Flight was notdelay'd 
 By aught that to her Bofom grew. 
 
 'Twas Atalanta's golden Fruit, 
 
 The fond Idea that confin'd 
 Fair Ellen's Steps, and blefs'd his Suit, 
 
 Who was not far, not far behind. 
 
 VIII.
 
 { ^5 ) 
 
 VIII. 
 
 O Love ! within thofe golden Vales, 
 
 Thofe genial Airs where Thou waft born, 
 
 Where Nature, liftening thy foft Tales, 
 Leans on the rofy Brcaft of Morn. 
 
 Where the fvveet Smiles, the Graces dwell. 
 And tender Sighs the Heart emove, 
 
 In filent Eloquence to tell 
 
 Thy Tale, O Soul-fubduing Love I 
 
 Ah ! wherefore Ihould grim Rage be nigh, 
 And dark Diftruft, with changeful Face,. 
 
 And Jealoufy's reverted Eye 
 
 Be near thy fair, thy favour 'd Place ?^ 
 
 D5 IX.
 
 ( ^6 ) 
 
 IX. 
 
 Earl Barnard was of high Degree, 
 And Lord of many a Lowland Hind, 
 
 And long for Ellen Love had He, 
 Had Love, but not of gentle Kind. 
 
 From Moray's Halls her abfent Hour 
 He watch'd with all a Mifer's Care ; 
 
 Thfc wide Domain, the princely Dower 
 Made Ellen more than Ellen fair. 
 
 Ah V/reich ! to think the liberal Soul 
 May thus with fair AfFedtion part ! 
 
 Though Lothian's Vales thy Sway controul. 
 Know, Lothian is not worth one Heart. 
 
 Studious
 
 ( ^7 ) 
 
 Studious he marks her abfcnt Hour, 
 
 Anil, winding far where Cakron flows, 
 
 Sudden he fees the fated Bower, 
 
 And red Rage on his dark Brow glows. 
 
 For who Is He? — 'Tls NiThisdale ! 
 
 And that fair Form with Arm rcclin'd 
 On His? — 'Tis Ellen of the Vale, 
 
 'Tis She (O Powers of Vengeance !) kind. 
 
 Should He that Vengeance fwlft purfue ? 
 
 No — that would all his Hopes deftroy j 
 Moray would vaniOi from his view,. 
 
 And rob Him of a Mifer's Joy. 
 
 D 2 Unfcen
 
 ( ^^8 ) 
 
 Unfeen to Moray's Halls He lues — 
 He calls his Slaves, his Ruffian Band, 
 
 * And, Hafte to yonder Groves,' He cries, 
 
 ' And ambufli'd lie by Car Ron's Strand.' 
 
 * What Time ye mark from Bower or Glen 
 
 ' A gentle Lady take her Way, 
 ' To Diflance due, and far from Ken, 
 
 * Allow her Length of Time to llray. 
 
 * Then ranfack flraight that Range of Groves.- 
 
 * With Hunter's Spear, and Veft of Green, 
 
 * If chance, a rofy Stripling roves,— ^ 
 
 ' Ye well can aim your Arrows keen.' 
 
 And now the Ruffian Slaves are nigh. 
 And Ellen takes her homeward Way: 
 
 Though ftay'd by many a tender Sigh, 
 She can no longer, longer flay. 
 
 Penfive,
 
 f 29 ) 
 
 Penfive, againft yon Poplar pale 
 The Lover leans his gentle Heart, 
 
 Revolving many a tender Tale, 
 
 And wondering ftill how The/ could part. 
 
 Three Arrow's pierc'd the defert Air, 
 Ere yet his tender Dreams depart; 
 
 And One ftruck deep his Forehead fair, 
 And One went through his gentle Heart. 
 
 Love's waking Dream Is lofl in Sleep- 
 He lies beneath yon Poplar pale ; 
 
 Ah ! could we marvel Ye fliould weep ; 
 Ye Maidens fair of Marlivale ! 
 
 X.
 
 ( 30 .) 
 
 X. 
 
 When all the Mountain Gales were ftlll, 
 And the Wave flcpt againft the Shore, 
 
 And the Sun, funk beneath the Hill, 
 Left his iaft Smile on Lemmermore ; 
 
 Sweet Ellen takes her wonted Way 
 Along the fairy-featur'd Vale : 
 
 Bright o'er his Wave does Carron play, 
 And foon llie'll meet her Nithisdale. 
 
 She 'II meet Him foon — for at her Sight 
 Swift as the Mountain Deer He fped ; 
 
 The Evening Shades will fink in Night, — 
 Where art Thou, loitering Lover, fled ? 
 
 O ! She
 
 ( 31 ) 
 
 O ! She will chide thy trifling Stay, 
 
 E'en now the foft Reproach She frames ; 
 
 * Can Lovers brook fuch long Delay ? 
 * Lovers that boaft of ardent Flames !' 
 
 He comes not — weary with the Chace, 
 Soft Slumber o'er his Eyelids throws 
 
 Her Veil — we '11 fteal one dear Embrace, 
 We'll gently fteal on his Repofe. 
 
 This is the Bower — we '11 foftly tread- 
 He fleeps beneath yon Poplar pale- 
 Lover, if e'er thy Heart has bled, 
 Thy Heart will far forego my Tale ! 
 
 XL
 
 { 32 ) 
 
 XI. 
 
 Ellen Is not in princely Bower, 
 
 She's not in Moray's fplendid Train; 
 
 Their Miftrefs dear, at Midnight Hour, 
 Her weeping Maidens feek in vain. 
 
 Her Pillow fwells not deep with Down ; 
 
 For Her no Balms their Sweets exhale : 
 Her Limbs are on the pale Turf thrown, 
 
 Prefs'd by Her lovely Cheek as pale. 
 
 On that fair Cheek, that flowing Hair, 
 The Broom it's yellow Leaf hath fhed. 
 
 And the chill Mountain's early Air 
 Blows wildly o'er her beauteous Head. 
 
 AsR
 
 ( 33 ) 
 
 As the foft Star of Orient Day,- 
 
 When Clouds involve his rofy Light, 
 
 Darts thro' the Gloom a trajificnt Ray, 
 
 And leaves the World ouce more to Night j 
 
 Returning Life illumes her Eye, 
 
 And flow it 's languid Orb unfolds — 
 
 What are thofe bloody Arrows nigh ? 
 Sure, bloody Arrows flie beholds I 
 
 What was that Form fo ghaftly pale. 
 That low beneath the Poplar lay ?— 
 
 * Twas fome poor Youth — 'Ah Nithisdale I'' 
 She faidj and lilent funk away. 
 
 F. xir
 
 ( 34 ) 
 
 XII, 
 
 'The Morn is on the Mountains fpread, 
 
 The Wood-lark trills his liquid Strain- 
 Can Morn's fweet Mufic roufe the dead? 
 Give the let Eye it's Soul again ? 
 
 A Shepherd of that gentler Mind 
 Which Nature not profufely yields. 
 
 Seeks in thefe lonely Shades to find 
 Some Wanderer from his little Fields. 
 
 Aghaft He ftands — and fimple Fear 
 O'er all his paly Vifage glides — 
 
 ' Ah Me ! what means this Mifery here? 
 * What Fate this Lady fair hetides ?' 
 
 He
 
 (, 35 ) 
 
 He bears Her to his friendly Home, 
 
 When Life, He finds, has but retir 'd ;— • 
 
 With Hafte He frames the Lover's Tomb, 
 Tor his is quite, is quite expir'd ! 
 
 E 2: XIIL
 
 i 36 } 
 
 XIL 
 
 ' O hide Me in thy humble Bower' 
 Returning late to Life flie faid ; 
 
 * I'll bind thy Crook with many a Flower; 
 
 * With many a rofy Wreath thy Head. 
 
 * Good Shepherd, hafte to yonder Grove, 
 ' And, if my Love aflecp is laid, 
 
 ^ Oh ! wake Him not ; but foftly move 
 
 * Some Pillow to that gentle Head. 
 
 •* Sure, Thou wil't know Him, Shepherd Swain, 
 
 ' Thou know'il: the Sun rife o'er the Sea — 
 •' But Oh ! no Lamb in all thy Train 
 '* Was e'er fo mild, i'o mild asH&i' 
 
 His
 
 ( 37 ) 
 
 * His Head Is on the Wood-Mofs laid ; 
 
 * I did not wake his Slumber deep— 
 
 * Sweet fings the Redbreaft o'er the Shade— 
 
 * Why, gentle Lady, would you weep ?* 
 
 As Flowers that fade in burning Day, 
 At Evening find the Dew-drop dear, 
 
 But fiercer feel the Noon-tide Ray, 
 When foften'd by the nightly Tear j 
 
 Keturnlng in the flowing Tear, 
 
 This lovely Flower, more fweet than They, 
 Pound her fair Soul, and, wandering near, 
 
 The Stranger, Reafon, crofs'd her Way. 
 
 found her fair Soul — Ah ! fo to find 
 Was but more dreadful Grief to know ! 
 
 All ! fure, the Privilege of Mind 
 'Can not be wortli the Wifli of Woe. 
 
 XIV,
 
 ( 38 ) 
 
 XIV. 
 
 On Melancholy's filent Urn 
 
 A fofter Shade of Sorrow falls, 
 But Ellen can no more return, 
 
 No more return to Moray's Halls. 
 
 Beneath the low and lonely Shade 
 
 The flow-confuming Hour fhe'll weepj 
 
 Till Nature feeks her laft-left Aid, 
 In the fad, fombrous Arms of Sleep. 
 
 * Thefe Jewels, all unmeet for Me, 
 
 ' Shalt Thou.' fhe faid, ' good Shepherd, take ^, 
 *- Thefe Gems will purchafe Gold for Thee, 
 
 *- And thefe be Thine for Ellen's Sake*. 
 
 So
 
 \ ^9 y 
 
 * So fail Thou not, at Eve and Morn, 
 
 * The Rofcmary's pale Bough to bring— 
 
 * Thou know 'ft where I was found forlorn—" 
 
 * Where Thou haft heard the Redbreaft fing. 
 
 * Heedful I '11 tend thy Flocks the while, 
 
 * Or aid thy Shepherdefs's Care, 
 ' For I will {hare her humble Toil, 
 
 * And I her friendly Roof will fharc.' 
 
 XV.
 
 ( 40 ) 
 
 XV. 
 
 And now two longfome Years are pafl 
 
 In Luxury of lonely Pain-i — 
 The lovely Mourner, found at laft. 
 
 To Moray's Halls Is borne again^ 
 
 Yet has She left. one Objeft dear. 
 
 That wears Love^^s funny Eye of joy — « 
 
 Is NiTHiSDALK reviving here? 
 Or Is it but a Shepherd's Boy ? 
 
 By Carron*s Side, a Shepherd's Boy, 
 He binds his Vale-flowers with the Reed 5 ; 
 
 He wears Love's funny Eye of Joy, 
 Aad Birih he little feems to heed. 
 
 xvi:
 
 ( 41 ) 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But ah ! no more his Infant Sleep 
 Clofcs beneath a Mother's Smile, 
 
 Who, only when it clos'd, would weep, 
 And yield to tender Woe the While. 
 
 No more, with fond Attention dear, 
 She feeks th' unfpoken Wilh to find j 
 
 No more fhall She, with Pleafure's Tear, 
 See the Soul waxing into Mind. 
 
 xvir.
 
 ( 4^ ) 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Does Nature bear a Tyrant's Breaft ? 
 
 Is She the Friend of ftern Controul ? 
 Wears She the Defpot's purple Veil ? 
 
 Or fetters She the free-born Soul ? 
 
 Where, worft of Tyrants, is thy Claim 
 In Chains thy Chiidrens' Breafts to bind I 
 
 Gav'ft Thou the Promethean Flame ? 
 The incommunicable Mind ? 
 
 Thy Offspring are great Nature's, — free,. 
 
 And of her fair Dominion Heirs j 
 Each Privilege She gives to Thee ; 
 
 Know, that each Privilege is theirs. 
 
 They
 
 ( 43 ) 
 
 They have thy Feature, wear thine Eye, 
 Perhaps fomc Feelings of thy Heart j 
 
 And wilt Thou their lov'tl Hearts deny 
 To adb their fair, their proper Part ? 
 
 F 2 XVIII.
 
 ( 44 ) 
 
 xviir. 
 
 The Lord of Lothiam's fertile Vale, 
 Ill-fated Ellen, claims thy Hand ; 
 
 Thou know'ft not that thy Nithisdale 
 Was low laid by his Ruffian-Band. 
 
 And Moray, with unfather'd Eyes, 
 Fix'd on fair Lothian's fertile Dale, 
 
 Attends his human Sacrifice, 
 
 Without the Grecian Painter's Veil. 
 
 O married Love ! thy Bard Ihall own, 
 
 Where two congenial Souls unite. 
 Thy golden Chain inlaid with Down, 
 
 Thy Lamp with Heaven's own Splendor bright. 
 
 But
 
 ( 45 ) 
 
 But if no radlcint Star of Love, 
 
 O Hymen ! fmile on thy fair Rite, 
 
 Thy Chain a wretched Weight Hiall prove. 
 Thy Lamp a fad fepulchral Light. 
 
 XIX.
 
 { 46 ^ 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And now has Time's flow wandering Wing 
 Borne many a Year unmark'd with Speed-^ 
 
 Where is the Boy by Car Ron's Spring, 
 
 Who bound his Vale-Flowers with the Reed ? 
 
 Ah Me ! thofe Flowers He binds no more ; 
 
 No EARLY Charm returns again; 
 The Parent, Nature keeps in Store 
 
 Her befl: Joys for her little Train. 
 
 No longer heed the Sun-beam bright 
 That plays on Carron's Bread He can, 
 
 Reafon has lent her quivering Light, 
 And fhewn the checquer'd Field of Man. 
 
 XIX.
 
 ( 47 ) 
 
 XX. 
 
 As the firfl human Heir of Earth 
 With penfive Eye Himfelf furvey'd, 
 
 And, all unconfcious of his Birth, 
 Sate thoughtful oft in Eden's Shade ; 
 
 In penfive Thought fo Owen flray'd 
 Wild Car Ron's lonely Woods among, 
 
 And once, within their grecnefl: Glade, 
 He fondly fram'd this fimple Song : 
 
 xxr.
 
 ( 48 ) 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Why is this Crook adorn'd with Gold ? 
 Why am I Tales of Ladies told ? 
 Why does no Labour Me employ, 
 If I am but a Shepherd's Boy ? 
 
 A filken Vefl like mine fo green 
 
 In Shepherd's Hut I have not feen 
 
 Why fhould I in fuch Vefture joy, 
 If I am but a Shepherd's Boy ? 
 
 I know it is no Shepherd's Art 
 His WRITTEN Meaning to impart— 
 They teach Me, fure, an idle Toy, 
 If I am but a Shepherd's Boy. 
 
 This
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 This Bracelet bright that binds my Arm- 
 It could not come from Shepherd's Farm ; 
 It only would that Arm annoy, 
 If I were but a Shepherd's Boy. 
 
 And, O Thou filent Pldure fair. 
 That lov'ft to fmlle upon me there, 
 O fay, and fill my Heart with Joy, 
 That I am not a Shepherd's Boy, 
 
 xxir.
 
 ( 50 ) 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Ah lovely Youth ! thy tender Lay 
 May not thy gentle Life prolong : 
 
 See'ft Thou yon Nightingale a Prey ? 
 
 The fierce Hawk hovering o'er his Song ? 
 
 His little Heart is large with Love : 
 He fweetly hails his Evening Star, 
 
 And Fate's more pointed Arrows move, 
 Infidious, from his Eye afar. 
 
 XXIII.
 
 ( 5' ) 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The Shepherdefs, whole kindly Care 
 
 Had watch'd o'er Owen's Infant Breath, 
 
 Mufl: now THEIR filent Manfions fhare, 
 Whom Time leads calmly down to Death. 
 
 • O tell me, Parent if Thou art, 
 
 * What is this lovely Picture dear ? 
 
 ' Why wounds its mournful Eye my Heart, 
 ' Why flows from mine th' unbidden Tear ? 
 
 * Ah ! Youth ! to leave Thee loth am I, 
 
 * Tho' I be not thy Parent dear ; 
 
 ' And would'ft Thou wifli, or ere I die, 
 
 * The Story of thy Birth to hear ? 
 
 G 2 But,
 
 ( 5^ ) 
 
 * But it win make Thee much bewail, 
 ' And it will make thy fair Eye fwell — ' 
 
 She fald, and told the woefome Tale, 
 As footh as Sheperdefs might tell. 
 
 XXIV.
 
 ( 53 ) 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The IIc:\rt, that Sorrow doom'd to (hare, 
 Has worn the frequent Seal of Woe, 
 
 Its fad Impreffions learns to bear, 
 And finds full oft, its Ruin flow. 
 
 But when that Seal is firfl impreft, 
 
 When the young Heart its Pain fhall try, 
 
 From the foft, yielding, trembling Bread, 
 Oft feems the flartled Soul to fly. 
 
 Yet fled not Owen's — wild Amaze 
 In Palenefs cloath'd, and lifted Hands, 
 
 And Horror's Dread, unmeaning gaze, 
 Mark the poor Statue, as it ftands. 
 
 The
 
 ( 54 ) 
 
 The fimple Guardian of his Life 
 Look'd wiflful for the Tear to glide j 
 
 But, when fhe faw his tearlefs Strife, 
 Silent, fhe lent him one,— and died. 
 
 XXV.
 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 XXV. 
 
 * No, I am not a Shepherd's Boy,' 
 
 Awaking from his Dream, He faid, 
 
 * Ah where is now the promis'd Joy 
 
 * Of this i — for ever, ever fled ! 
 
 * O Pifture dear ! — for her lov'd Sake 
 
 ' How fonly could my Heart bewail ! 
 
 * My friendly Shepherdefs, O wake, 
 
 * And tell me more of this fad Tale. 
 
 * O tell me more of this fad Tale — 
 
 ' No ; Thou enjoy thy gentle Sleep ! 
 
 * And I will go to Lothian's Vale, 
 
 * And more than all her Waters weep.' 
 
 XXVI.
 
 ( 56 ) 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Owen to Lothian's Vale Is fled — 
 
 Earl Barnard's lofty Towers appear— 
 ' O ! art Thou there,' the full Heart faid, 
 
 * O ! art Thou there, my Parent dear ?' 
 
 Yes, She Is there : From Idle State 
 
 Oft has fhe ftole her Hour to weep ; 
 Think how ihe ' by thy Cradle fate,' 
 
 And how fhe ' fondly faw Thee fleep *.' 
 
 Now tries his trembling Hand to frame 
 
 Full many a tender Line of Love ; 
 And fllU He blots the Parent's Name, 
 
 For that, He fears, might fatal prove. 
 
 * See die ancient Scottish Ballad, called Gill Morrice. 
 
 XXVIL
 
 ( 57 I 
 
 O^er a fair Fountain's fmiling Side 
 
 Reclin'd a dim Tower, clad with Mofs, 
 
 Where every Bird was wont to bide. 
 That languifli'd for it's Partner's Lofs, 
 
 This Scene He chofe> tliis Scene aflign'd 
 A Parent's firft Embrace to wait. 
 
 And many a foft Fear fill'd his Mind, 
 Anxious for his fond Letter's Fate. 
 
 The Hand that bore thofe Lines of Love, 
 The well-informing Bracelet bore— 
 
 Ah ! may They not unprofperous prove ! 
 Ah ! fafely pafs you dangerous Door ! 
 
 H xxvim
 
 ( 58 ) 
 
 xxviir. 
 
 • She comes not ; — can She then delay ? 
 
 ' Cried the fair Youtli, and dropt a Tear 
 
 * Whatever filial Love could fay, 
 
 , * To Her I faid, and call'd her dear. 
 
 * She comes— Oh ! No—encircled round 
 
 ' Tis fome rude Chief with many a Spear. 
 
 * My haplefs Tale that Earl has found— 
 
 ' Ah Me ! my Heart .'—for Her I fear.' 
 
 His tender Tale that Earl had read. 
 
 Or ere it reach'd his Lady's Eye, 
 His dark Brow wears a Cloud of red. 
 
 In Rage He deems a Rival nigh. 
 
 XXLX.
 
 ( 59 ) 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 'Tis o'er— thofe Locks that wav'd in Gold, 
 That wav'd adown thofe Cheeks fo fair, 
 
 Wreath'd in the gloomy Tyrant's Hold, 
 Hang from the fever'd Head in Air, 
 
 That ftreaming Head He joys to bear 
 In horrid Guifc to Lothian's Halls; 
 
 Bids his grim Ruffians place it there, 
 Ereil upon the frowning Walls. 
 
 / - 
 
 The fatal Tokens forth He drew— 
 
 * Know'ft thou thefe — Ellen of the Vale V 
 The pidlur'd Bracelet foon She knew, 
 
 And foon her lovely Cheek grew pale.— 
 
 The
 
 ( 6o ) 
 
 The trembling VIdtim, ftralght He. led. 
 Ere yet Her Soul's firft Fear was o'er : 
 
 He pointed to the ghaftly Head- 
 She faw— and funk, to rife no more.. 
 
 THE END
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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 WAR 1 1984 
 
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