D24^ ^ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 K
 
 THE 
 
 RETIRED LIEUTENANT, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS.
 
 London; i'rintkd by jambs Movr.s, 
 
 Castlt Street, I.ejcestfr iSiiuare.
 
 TIIK 
 
 RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 AND THK 
 
 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 
 
 By JOHN LAKE, 
 
 ACTIIOR OF " THE GOLDEN GLOVE," A COMEDY, &C. c^C. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JOHN HATCHARD AND'SON, PICCADILLY 
 
 M.UCCC. XXXVI.
 
 
 PREFACE: 
 
 WITH BRIEF REMARKS ON SOME OF THE POLITICAL PROCEED- 
 INGS OF THE times; OCCASIONED BY THE GREAT NEGLECT 
 WHICH POETRY, AND ALL THE OTHER HIGH ARTS, ARE AT 
 PRESENT SUBJECTED TO THROUGH THE AGITATION IN WHICH 
 THE PUBLIC MIND IS CONTINUALLY KEPT BY POLITICAL 
 SPECULATIONS. 
 
 Although, in recently publishing a sudden ebullition of 
 poetical colere, I was induced to give a brief catalogue of 
 my literary compositions, being here presenting myself, 
 not as a disputant on, but a professor of, the poetic art, 
 it appears necessary that I should again take the liberty 
 of introducing myself to the public as a stranger ; which 
 I beg leave so far to do, as respectfully to state, tliat, 
 instigated by believing I might be able to add something 
 to the ornamental literature of my country, at a very early 
 age I began to write, and have from time to time com- 
 posed a variety of works : but the situation in life in which 
 fortune thought fit to place me being somewhat remote 
 from the literary world, and the ways I have tried to get 
 to it full of obstructions, I have never, hitherto, found 
 myself of a temper to persevere in endeavouring to make 
 my way through them. The time, however, is at length 
 arrived when duty to myself binds me to delay no longer 
 in trying my best to get some of my works placed before 
 the public, and that I now do in this first volume of my 
 poems. 
 
 b 
 
 4 i O'jt i
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 I begin the publication with my first production in the 
 shape of a regular poem ; though in the order of my 
 writings, as to the time of their composition, it ought to 
 have been preceded by two plays, a comedy and a 
 tragedy ; and also many small pieces, the first flutterings 
 of my unfledged muse before she ventured to take wing 
 towards the temple of fame ; but as the drama in this 
 country is now under a total eclipse, if not totally ex- 
 tinguished, and the public never read plays unless they 
 are acted, I pass over the plays and small pieces to begin 
 with this poem, which I wrote about the year 1816, as an 
 experiment to prove whether British taste in poetry (which 
 was then running mad) might not still allow a place in 
 its attention to the simple sentimental strains for which 
 English poetry had been long admired : but as, from the 
 reception the piece met with amongst the then publishers 
 of poetry, there appeared to be as much madness on my 
 side as on the side of taste, for proposing such a thing, its 
 eftects were never brought to proof; and although, in now 
 presenting it to the public, I know there is no chance for 
 it with general taste, yet, should it meet with any minds 
 pleased to follow it through its simple scenes, to such I 
 dedicate it ; while I can assure others that, if they love 
 the thundering of the tempest more than the soft whisper 
 of the zephyr, I have plenty of " spirit-stirring" work to 
 present to them, if they will patiently read on till they 
 come to it. 
 
 Yet the sending forth, at the present time, a work 
 commencing with a simple sentimental poem, as this does, 
 with expectation of attention, is, I confess, rather a forlorn 
 hope ; England is not now the England it was in the days 
 of Dyer or Goldsmith. Then, with open simplicity of
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 miiul, (the glory of the English character, and always the 
 nursery of talents and mental strength,) Englishmen list- 
 ened to the strains of the philosophic muse with edifica- 
 tion and delight, and our country teemed with great men, 
 and rapidly rose in the scale of nations. But during the 
 last half century a change in our social character has 
 taken place ; the age we now live in is the " enlightened 
 age;" our "intellects" have heen *' marching;" "the 
 schoolmaster is ahroad." Instead of public attention being 
 engaged, as wont, by the philosopher, the poet, and the 
 moralist, as they occasionally issued from a dignified press, 
 we now hear of nothing but " Political Economy ;" 
 " Diff*usion of Useful Knowledge;" " Political Unions;" 
 and " JVIechanics' Institutions :" the veriest reptile in lite- 
 rature, who dips his pen in the gall of political contention, 
 and, raging to establish the dogmas of his moon-stricken 
 brain, excites to rapine and blood, rises from his dunghill, 
 and becomes a giant in the arena of public characters ; 
 while the poet, who writes to draw men to brotherly 
 kindness, and temper our natures for more exalted being, 
 writes unheeded. 
 
 Nevertheless, this is still an " enlightened age :" taste 
 for the exalted kinds of literature, which have ever tended 
 to elevate the nations who cherished them, has forsaken 
 us, and eminent talents in almost all the hifjh arts are 
 fast disappearing : but, what then ? we have every coal- 
 porter ready to start as a legislator, and every pavier as a 
 minister of state. 
 
 The feats achieved by the " Diftusers of Knowledge" in 
 this way have, indeed, been Herculean : but those philo- 
 sophers, in the ardour of their philanthropy, in the 
 heat of their desires to improve the condition of society,
 
 Vin PREFACE. 
 
 seem to have siifFered one rather important consideration 
 to escape them; for, in '* diffusing knowledge" amongst 
 their pupils, they seem never to have thought of accom- 
 panying the same with a " diffusion" of sense and under- 
 standing. 
 
 The " diffusers" themselves have, it is to be hoped, 
 sufficient sense to know that " knowledge" does not 
 always beget wisdom ; they, doubtless, know that sense, 
 without much " knowledge," will enable a man to know 
 knaves and impostors from honest men ; while " know- 
 ledge," without sense, may render a man who, had he 
 remained ignorant, might have remained honest, both a 
 knave and an impostor. ^ 
 
 In the old-fashioned times of poetry I have spoken of, 
 it was written with true philosophy, and i-ead by all the 
 world with delighted acquiescence, that 
 
 " where ignorance is bliss, 
 
 'Tis folly to be wise." 
 
 And, therefore, though the waters of knowledge be sweet, 
 and their fountains ought to be thrown open to every 
 human being, that all may drink at them according to 
 their thirst, our day-working " diffusers" who seek to 
 force " knowledge," as it were by steam, into all heads 
 promiscuously, must not expect extravagant praise for 
 their philanthropy. 
 
 Knowledge is immeasurable to human search ; the 
 pursuit of it is a race without a goal. The quaint Sir 
 John Denham says — 
 
 '* For why, the wisest of all mortal men 
 
 Said he knew naught, but that he naught did know."
 
 PREFACE, IX 
 
 And if one who luul reaclietl the greatest extent of know- 
 ledge attainahle by " nioital man," declared, alter all, 
 that he " naught did know," (a truth which every man 
 of real knowledge, even in the extended state of know- 
 ledge in the present day, will subscribe to as being his 
 own case,) of what advantage can it be to men depending 
 for subsistence on their industry in labour, to have their 
 attentions tempted from the same by pursuits that the 
 further they advance in the more they will find themselves 
 wanting? Nay, if the famous lines of another great poet 
 be of any value — lines which, for their simple truth, have 
 been for the last hundred years placed in our children's 
 school-books, namely, that 
 
 " A little learning is a dangerous thing; 
 
 Drink deep, or taste not the Pierean spring :" 
 
 the " diffusers," who urge what they call knowledge on 
 persons whose other important callings render it inipos- 
 sible they can " drink deep," nuist excuse reflecting men 
 if they pronounce them, not philanthropists, but mis- 
 chievous deceivers. 
 
 I am not by this advocating the doctrine that know- 
 ledge in the working classes is dangerous, and that men 
 dependent on their labour ought to be kept in ignorance ; 
 I cannot advocate any thing injurious to men of those 
 classes, for I am one of them ; the working classes of the 
 people suffer no hardships that I do not also suffer; and 
 I derive no benefits from society that I do not, in common 
 with them, earn by my labour. My desire in making 
 these observations is to warn the classes I belong to against 
 the evils of treacherous friendship — against suffering them- 
 selves to be the tools of mercenary schemers ; because, of
 
 X PREFACE, 
 
 late times, certain men, whose chief talents lie in their 
 presumption and impudence, have set themselves up as 
 public teachers of the people, by establishing societies and 
 institutions, under specious names, with pretence of afford- 
 ing them useful information and scientific instruction ; 
 but, really, to insinuate into their minds the poisons of 
 partisan politics, trusting thereby to secure a superior 
 numerical weight of the people to support their political 
 movements on public occasions, and thus promote their 
 own advancement to offices of gain ; the real good of the 
 tools who may so choose to serve them being the remotest 
 consideration in their thoughts. 
 
 But, on the presumption qf such men setting them- 
 selves up as teachers of the people, and drawing working 
 men from their industry, to vitiate and demoralise their 
 minds with political cabals, without there being the 
 smallest possible chance of such studies ever doing them 
 any good, while the vile mercenary purposes for which 
 they do so are so prominently visible, no observing man 
 can look without disgust. Thanks to the truly benevolent 
 portions of the community, the poorest of the people may 
 now obtain the inestimable acquirement of being able to 
 read and write their own language, and those invaluable 
 keys to the temple of knowledge being placed in all 
 hands, all who find that knowledge in any art or science 
 might be useful to them, may easily obtain it, pure from 
 its fountains, with the honour of having gained it by their 
 own eflforts, and without the contamination of partisan 
 politics. 
 
 But this mock " diffusion of knowledge" is only one 
 of the many levers that assist in moving the machinery 
 now employed in disturbing the peace and distracting the
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 energies of this great country ; the grand battering-ram 
 itself is the cry of " Reform ;" and shaken as the organisa- 
 tion of the state thereby ah*eady is, strange to say, that, 
 too, is only a mockery of the people. 
 
 It has been said that nations may be ruled In' names 
 and epithets ; and certainly the power of a name or 
 epithet, however falsely a})plied, is often wonderful. By 
 the word " Reform," simple, common-sense people sup- 
 pose that improvement is meant; that a bettering of things 
 is proposed ; that some evil is to be removed ; some cor- 
 ruption cleansed away; some vice to be abated; and, 
 consequently, when the cry of " Reform of Parliament" 
 was sounded through the kingdom, the good people of 
 England, who always were in trouble, and always will 
 be, yielding easy confidence to the orators who trumpeted 
 the ciy forth, and convinced that immeasurable benefits 
 would result to them therefrom, all simultaneously issued 
 from their shops and warehouses, and never ceased callino- 
 out " Reform !" " Reform !" till they so terrified the weak- 
 lings then in the councils and senate of the nation by their 
 yells, that, to pacify them, they left all to their mercy, and 
 got out of the way, glad to save their ears in the scramble. 
 
 The good people then quickly got " Reform of Par- 
 liament," in all the plenitude their orators desired ; or, if 
 not so, it was the fault of the orators themselves, for they 
 had all the old timbers of the constitution relatinc: to 
 parliament, which our careful forefathers took such pains 
 in clamping and dovetailing together to keep out the 
 vermin of their time, unscrewed and laid open before 
 them ; and now let us see what this " Reform," so loudly 
 called for, and so vigorously applied to parliament by its 
 advocates, has really produced.
 
 XII PREFACE. 
 
 It was expected, as has been said, to " better things ;" 
 '' to remove evils;" " to cleanse away corruptions;" 
 and " abate vices :" but, looking first at the component 
 parts of the assembly it was applied to, — namely, at the 
 persons who constitute the same, — we find that, instead of 
 bettering things, it has driven from it men of experienced 
 judgment, talents, and honour, and replaced them by 
 visionary libertines, ruffian bravoes, and beggarly specu- 
 lators ; that, instead of having " removed the evil " of 
 influence in elections, it has only abridged that power in 
 one class of persons, and enlarged it to another, who are 
 greedily practising it through the meanest artifices, even 
 to the extent of barefaced perjury and fraud ; that instead 
 of having " cleansed" that assembly from bribery and 
 corruption, it has only produced occasion to excite the 
 same in greater rankness ; that instead of " abating the 
 vice" of lavishing the people's money on friends and 
 favourites, it has caused a continual creation of new offices 
 and employments to feed a new flight of hungry adherents, 
 at the public expense, ever since it came into operation. 
 
 So much for the first application to our institutions of 
 what the illuminati of our age call " Reform :" and thus 
 the term Reform — a term which, in its true sense, denotes 
 regeneration from evil, restoration to virtue, and the pu- 
 rification of men's hearts from their vices — has, amongst 
 us, been perverted to express a mere political movement, 
 a change in the agents of power ; under the action of 
 which the basest vices of the human heart have been 
 heated to greater rankness — public virtue deeply de- 
 moralised — and not one substantial good realised to the 
 people. 
 
 With those facts standing broadly forth before them, 
 
 I
 
 I'HEFACE. XIII 
 
 as they already clearly do, it inij^lit be expected the people 
 would o])en their eyes to the deceptions practised on them, 
 and cease to yield themselves tiie slaves of mercenary 
 adventurers : but the complaint made of old against the 
 people of another nation might now, it would seem, be 
 justly revived against the people of this, namely, that they 
 " have eyes, but see not ; and ears, but do not hear ;" for 
 their " patriots," without shame at the exposure of the 
 national mockery of their " Parliamentary Reform," as 
 to rendering Parliament more honest and upright than 
 it has hitherto been, are still continuing their schemes for 
 power by proposing new changes which they call " Re- 
 form," and the people are still continuing to yield them- 
 selves the blind instruments of their speculations. 
 
 I have already said I am one of the " people," one of 
 the class that now exclusively claim to be so denominated ; 
 and, therefore, trusting it will be evident that I can have 
 no interest or object to induce me to advance opinions with 
 design to mislead or deceive them, I expect they will 
 duly weigh the above observations, and, for the pacifi- 
 cation of the country, and the good of trade, by which we 
 all live, be induced to moderate their ardour in pursuing 
 the political deceptions now conjuring up before them, 
 and refrain from o-ivins; their valuable time and hard- 
 earned pence to support the political quacks and parlia- 
 mentary mendicants who are on all sides besetting them, 
 and this advice I leave them to ponder over. 
 
 To the heads and leaders in the above transactions, 
 the " patriots" themselves, I now address myself; and, 
 supposing them possessed of the discernment, to be aware 
 that there is a vast body of the British nation who clearly 
 see, under all their pretended patriotism, their true motives
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 of action ; to them I beg leave to say, that, though I allow 
 office and power, with the importance, patronage, and 
 emolument, too, that accompany the same, to be very 
 desirable matters ; still, with the sense of probity, and 
 what constitutes consistency of character, that my humble 
 rearing has given me, I declare I am, beyond measure, 
 astonished and surprised to see gentlemen, men born to 
 rank and property, men of education, and accustomed to 
 good society, and who, in the ordinary affairs of life, 
 would be ashamed to do any thing openly dishonourable 
 (which we are called on to believe most of the men now 
 holding the chief offices of government are), — I say I am 
 astonished that such men are found capable of having 
 recourse to the low, the base, the utterly dishonourable 
 artifices, impostures, and deceptions, which they, of late, 
 practised in the face of the country to get into office, and 
 still continue practising to keep the same. Were they 
 the low-born desperate adventurers that some of their 
 adherents are, mere political brigands, watching to enter 
 into any scheme to cast loose the property of the country, 
 that they might have a chance of sharing in a new division 
 of its spoil, such conduct would create no surprise ; but in 
 gentlemen of station, in whom susceptibility of shame 
 might be expected, such conduct is unaccountable. 
 
 But, setting aside scheming and tricking in regard to 
 office, in the arts of which some of the right honourables 
 now in power must certainly have taken lessons from their 
 valets ; setting aside, too, the criminality of conspiring, by 
 sinking the constituency of the kingdom, to give an over- 
 bearing character to the House of Commons, to the over- 
 awing or subverting the freedom of the other two branches 
 of the constitution (which is clearly the intent and object
 
 PHEKACE. XV 
 
 of all their reforms); setting aside the dishonourableness 
 of the one, and the guilt of the utiier ; and granting that 
 it is not thirst for power, and the advantages of office that 
 urges them on in their course, but the pure conscientious 
 patriotism and desire of the people's welfare that they 
 pretend to; — allowing all this, I say, the charge against 
 them for proceeding as they are doing is only shifted 
 from want of honesty to want of judgment; from design- 
 ing villany, to egregious blindness and folly ; for if ever 
 the House of Commons be so constituted as to over-rule the 
 king and the aristocracy, this kingdom, by whatever title 
 it may be designated, becomes a republic ; and if there 
 are men in the present day who have studied and learned 
 history, who, having the experience of the woi-ld before 
 them, and the result of the various modes into which civil 
 society has been formed in the different ages and countries 
 of it, are yet of opinion that republican government, or 
 popular supremacy, is the most salutary government for 
 a nation, such men are much below par with their stable- 
 men and chambermaids in comprehending the results of 
 experience in their professions. 
 
 " The people's supremacy," " the people's taking the 
 management of their affairs into their own hands," is the 
 constant bark of our present leaders in " reforming," and 
 all the yelpers to their pack ; in all their public assemblies 
 they are ever appealing, with deceptive sycophancy, to a 
 Dagon, to which they give the name of " the people;" in 
 their public entertainments their carousals are led by 
 toasting " the peojde ! ' " the true source of all legitimate 
 power, the people!" as if the people did not know, with- 
 out them, that they are the true source of all power, legi- 
 timate or not. But some of " the people" know more ;
 
 XVI PREFACE. 
 
 know that the " legitimate power" of which they are " the 
 true source," is, in them, like to what it is in an almost 
 equally noble animal who has much more, namely, the 
 horse, of no value to him without the rein ; on the contrary, 
 that he may, with all " the true sources of" his *' legiti- 
 mate power" about him, be, by the braying of an ass, 
 driven from control, and hurried to destroy himself on the 
 first object that obstructs his course ; and, if solid common 
 sense do not prevent, " the true source of all legitimate 
 power" amongst us is now in some danger of the same 
 result from the same agency. Yet it is worthy of remark 
 that, as the most daring depredators often feel compunc- 
 tions, and tremble for the consequences of their assaults 
 on the laws, so our present champions of " Reform," 
 while they are heating the nation by inflammatory 
 sophisms in politics almost to ignition, are imploring the 
 people to " judge soberly and deliberately ;" " to promote 
 and forward the great principle of reform temperately and 
 cautiously f^ " to improve the institutions of the country 
 carefully and wisely ;" * as if the waves of the excited 
 ocean, or the bursting of a volcano or earthquake, were 
 not as likely to be counselled to move " temperately " and 
 " cautiously," as were the Bristol rioters, or the Parisian 
 rabble who brought Louis the Sixteenth from Marseilles 
 to the scaffold, and, throwing open their " true sources 
 of all legitimate power," steeped Europe, for a quarter of 
 a century, in blood and moui'ning. 
 
 But our political alchymists think it quite unfair to 
 charge their doctrines about " the supremacy of the 
 people," as leading to such extremities ; they think that, 
 
 * See Lord John Russell's spoecli at Bristol.
 
 PREFACE. XVU 
 
 if things were but left to them, they could keep a tap on 
 " the true source of all legitimate power," as on a beer- 
 cask, and turn it oft' and on when they wanted it. hi 
 short, still dreaming over their schoollwy lessons in Greek 
 and Roman history about poj)ular liberty, without reftect- 
 ing on its results even to those nations ; with their " eyes 
 in fine frenzy rolling from earth to heaven, from heaven 
 to earth," after the phantoms poets have dressed up in the 
 all-loved name of liberty, and wanting in the statesman- 
 like solidity of judgment as to that proportionate distri- 
 bution of liberty amongst the members of a community 
 that renders liberty truly valuable ; they are of opinion 
 that democracy is the most natural, the most wise, the 
 most philosophical, and most happy for the human race, of 
 all governments: and many of the visionary sophists who 
 think thus, with the Paria curs who are su])porting them, 
 and ready to support any thing that would create disturb- 
 ance, are now champing the curbs of the law to break 
 down this solid and long-tried monarchy to republicanism ; 
 which being the case, I am almost tempted to enter a 
 little into the true nature of republican government : but, 
 as I am here merely glancing at passing events, and 
 giving a few cursory hints on subjects that the occasion 
 I write for does not call on me further to enter on, I shall 
 only now, to illustrate a little the operations of poj)ular 
 supremacy in the government of nations, briefly allude to 
 the instances ol' it that have lately been, and are still 
 before our eyes. 
 
 France has lately been a republic ; and has given the 
 modern world a full display of the frenzied exercise of 
 popular power, and conserpient restless and ruinous state 
 of change that so often distracted the early nations who
 
 XVUl PREFACE. 
 
 were subject to it ; of the ferocity, tyranny, robberies, and 
 murders, that ever accompany unbridled democracy. And 
 she has, too, since then, worn the galling chains of unmiti- 
 gated despotism which ever succeed to popular licentious- 
 ness. Is this a precedent to induce wise men to promote 
 a preponderance of democratic power in this country? 
 
 America is now a republic : but " look on this picture 
 and look on that !" look on Great Britain, and look on 
 America ! America may have no pale artisans out of 
 employment — she may have no beggars — her vast fields 
 may long load the tables of her seedling population with 
 abundance, and that population may roam her intermin- 
 able savannas as free as their wild buffaloes or antelopes ; 
 their only restraint, satiety of freedom — their only legis- 
 lator, the rifle ; while her Congress at Washington, in their 
 mealy coats and leathern aprons, may roam equally free 
 in the mental savannas of interminable speech, and go 
 back to their shops to feed, drink, and vegetate, in the 
 same meal and leather they left them in : the mark of 
 rank and distinction, that rouses the aspiring mind to mag- 
 nanimous effort, and holds up the glass of refinement to 
 society, is not seen there. America, at present, is no more 
 than one common grazing field for all kinds of animals 
 to brouse in together on an equal level ; each species freely 
 enjoying the inclinations of their own wild natures, and 
 feeding alike on the soil that produced them ; and, till 
 America shall doff the republican cap, and divide her 
 people into orders and classes, and distinguish those classes 
 by honours, titles, and power, in the state, too, either as a 
 reward for past, or obtainable by future merit, she will 
 never begin to rise to be a really great and civilised 
 nation.
 
 PREFACE. XIX 
 
 Tliorc arc Americiins wlio UnA tins; who, looking; at 
 the splciuloiir of Eiijiliiiicl, in her famous kings, and long 
 lines of nohility, and the softness it spreads through all the 
 descending grades of society, even down to the talented 
 artisan, to exchange reciprocal homage with each other; 
 and, at once proud that it is the land of their ancestors, 
 and ashamed of their crimes against it, yet fondly call it 
 " Home!" Hail to such hearts I all true Britons will ever 
 embrace them as brothers. 
 
 1 have not, in the above glance at the present state of 
 America, pointed out the dark shades that have been im- 
 pressed on the people's morals and manners by the influ- 
 ence of brute republicanism : I wish not to speak harshly 
 of Americans ; they are, with all their foults against us, 
 still children of the British family; and, though, with the 
 mental Atlantic of painful reflections that lie between iis 
 and them, there is now no chance of their returning, like 
 the prodigal son, penitent to their father's house, history, 
 to all futurity, will only hold them as a scion of the 
 British line, and will mark every hostile demonstration they 
 may make against their parent state as a dereliction from 
 moral rectitude. Yes! America now lies like a formless 
 block of granite, detached by a tempest from the mountain 
 on which it grew, inheriting, indeed, the original grain 
 and substance of the mother rock, but powerless to move 
 to relieve itself from the deformities it fell with, however 
 unseemly and detrimental. And there are Americans who 
 see this, and grieve for their country. 
 
 Is, then, America a model to be instanced for breaking- 
 down the British constitution to democracy ? and what 
 presumptuous traitor shall dare to lift the hell-forged 
 mallet of seditious agitation against her time and pros- 
 perity-sanctioned institutions with such a purpose ?
 
 XX PREFACE. 
 
 That from the changes of circumstances produced by 
 time, changes in the practical laws of the kingdom may 
 occasionally become necessary, every man of sense knows, 
 and is always ready to acknowledge ; but to conspire to 
 alter the primary powers of the constitution, by the deli- 
 berate and free exercise of all the parts of which changes 
 in the laws, to benefit all the interests of the country, can, 
 with any pretence to wisdom, be made ; to attempt to give 
 to any of the branches of that body, either king, lords, or 
 commons, a power to coerce the other, is treason ! and let 
 those who are now labouring to create a power in the House 
 of Commons, to overawe the other two powers of the state, 
 take heed what they are about, for if they do so, to make 
 a wreck of the constitution, assuredly a day of terrible 
 retribution will come. 
 
 I may appear to some to have gone out of my course, 
 as a poet introducing his verses to the public, in thus 
 entering into the political conflicts of the day ; but, having 
 long waited quietly for a season of public tranquillity to 
 attempt the publication of my verses in, and suffered 
 patiently, with hundreds of others, the heavy loss which 
 students of the peaceful arts are all now more or less sub- 
 jected to, without seeing any harbinger of peace, but 
 rather the sword whetting for new battles, I have resolved 
 to delay no longer in seeking with my humble strains the 
 ears of the superior few, whose minds rise above the 
 frenzy of the hour, and desire the lasting pleasures in- 
 spired by sentimental or patriotic song. And being, at 
 the same time, perfectly convinced that the agitations 
 which now shake the kingdom, without the possibility of 
 ever in any shape benefiting it, are doing all its immediate 
 interests deep and serious injury, — in presenting myself as 
 a national writer, which, in publishing poetry, I do, I
 
 PREFACE. XXI 
 
 hold it a duty I owe to my country to declare loudly my 
 dissent from those at^itations, and to do my utmost to 
 expose to my countrymen the mercenary desij^ns, or tlie 
 egregious folly, of the men who jiromote them. And if 
 the champions of those agitations, the day-working " Ke- 
 formers" of all but themselves, who are now maudling 
 the public understanding with their philosophisms in legis- 
 lature, continue to go on in tlieir present course, there is 
 danger of my being tempted to jiay my respects to some 
 amonffst them in words that shall stick faster to them than 
 any thing here is likely to do, because they may be laid on 
 closer. Poets are a privileged class, and they hold their 
 privileges with a security that mocks at the chatF of the 
 sacrilegious innovator : for, though they do not now occupy 
 the important station in states that of old enabled them 
 to go between the camps of contending armies, and reprove 
 transgressing chiefs with safety, if they have the true 
 warrant of Parnassus, they still possess the power that 
 obtained them that high office ; they carry darts, that he 
 who provokes their i-esentment being pierced by, becomes 
 a Vampire never to die. 
 
 B
 
 J
 
 THE 
 
 RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Let poets, more adventurous, wing 
 The Epic's giddy li eights, and sing 
 The dire combustions oft tliat flow 
 From human pride and human wo ; 
 A simpler theme my strains advise, 
 I sing Lieutenant Halbert Guise. 
 
 Guise, born to arms, in early youth 
 Had lent the king his sword and truth. 
 And oft with chiefs of mighty name 
 Fought, side by side, the field of fame. 
 He, with the love of glory fir'd. 
 In service hard had long aspir'd 
 To rank in arms ; but, tale of wo ! 
 Time travell'd fast, promotion slow ;
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And, worn by the events of war. 
 
 By age, and many an honour'd scar ; 
 
 Yet only boasting in degree 
 
 A senior Lieutenancy, 
 
 Brave Halbert, broken every way, 
 
 Retir'd upon his broken pay. 
 
 No more could dreams of glory lead 
 The hero to the daring deed ; 
 No further ev'n the thirst of fame 
 Could stimulate the shatter'd frame ; 
 That latest fire that warms the breast 
 Had sunk in nature's calls for rest. 
 
 The veteran settled his abode 
 Near Walford, on the northern road ; 
 A boroughmote renown'd, 'tis said. 
 For loyalty, good ale, and trade ; 
 Whether his place of birth or no. 
 Our documents omit to shew. 
 But here, at last, evincing still 
 His soldiership and warlike skill, 
 Flank'd by a wood and waterway. 
 To shift no more, his (juarters lay.
 
 TTin RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 A pleasing spot ; tlic road was near 
 In front, an orcliard clos'd the rear ; 
 And fenc'd by ancient thorns around. 
 Which here and there the elder crown'd ; 
 A garden, furnish'd to afford 
 Pastime, and viands for the board. 
 Behind ; and gaily stretch'd before 
 A pleasure lawn to cheer the door ; 
 With gravel paths that cross'd the green, 
 With stuccoed walls, and casements clean, 
 And needful offices around. 
 The smiling scene the cottage crown'd. 
 
 With its appendages, the place 
 Might occupy an acre's space ; 
 For Halbert, all his battles o'er. 
 Had conquer'd of the world no more. 
 Small territory ! but, alas ! 
 Great Caesar now inherits less ; 
 And he who lords earth's widest feu 
 Will, one day, find a less will do. 
 
 Here did the warrior propose 
 His musters with this world to close ;
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And turn in mind what he could do 
 To fit him for the great review. 
 When all the armies of the earth, 
 Whate'er their nations, tongues, or birth. 
 Shall strike this scene of earthly things. 
 And march to meet the King of Kings. 
 
 Here, too, he look'd to find a friend 
 With whom, as life drew near its end. 
 He might, its visionary scene 
 Reviewing, talk what he had been : 
 Tell o'er his feats, warm with the strain. 
 Forget, and tell them o'er again ; 
 And, rapt in the heroic rage. 
 Forget the while his wounds and age. 
 And who disdains to lend his ear 
 The son of danger's tale to hear ? 
 And he who social joy foregoes 
 To meet in arms his country's foes. 
 Or braves the earth-involving main 
 For science, or his country's gain. 
 Has tales to tell, events has seen 
 Which pleasure's minions little ween.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Here Halbert fondly look'd to find 
 A friend of parity of mind; 
 A friend who might sincerely share 
 His social pleasm'es or his care ; 
 A friend for worse or better true. 
 Which many find so hard to do : 
 For those whom duty's stern commands 
 Exile to range in foreign lands. 
 Brave peril's front, forego their ease, 
 Sustain'd by buoyant hopes like these — 
 By cheering hope, where'er they roam. 
 At last to find a friend and home. 
 
 Halbert, in battles bravely fought, 
 Had won the means his cottage bought ; 
 But all the gallant veteran's stay 
 Beyond his dwelling, was his pay ; 
 His pay, which now, abatements clear, 
 Remain'd some fifty pounds a year. 
 Small stipend ! to support the claims 
 Of age and honourable maims — 
 Poor meed, a life to cheer at last 
 In perils for the public pass'd ;
 
 C THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Thrift of the state in feeble hour ! 
 But Halbert never carp'd at power : 
 And when he heard, as who can stay 
 His ears ? the clamours of his day. 
 Heard raging politicians rail 
 At evils in the commonweal. 
 And talk of power and trust abus'd ; 
 He'd answer, while a blush sufFus'd 
 His war-worn countenance, 'Tis true ! 
 Men high in power have much to do : 
 For me, I've serv'd the state in naught 
 But as my truth and duty taught ; 
 Given but my king his right in me 
 To guard his crown's integrity : 
 And small though be my fortunes here. 
 Yet honour shall attend my bier ; 
 At fortune's stern but dastards whine. 
 It blurs a soldier to repine. 
 
 Thus Halbert discontents reprov'd. 
 While he, by nobler feelings mov'd. 
 Did what he could with honour do 
 To aid his slender revenue.
 
 THK RETIUKD LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Sometimes his skill in aiiirliiig tried. 
 The iieipjhbouring river aid supi)lied ; 
 Sometimes the moor a tribute dun, 
 For who forbids the soldier's gun ? 
 But chief his garden, whence his spade, 
 A weapon royalty has sway'd. 
 Brought him supplies of viands sound 
 Almost the circling seasons round ; 
 And there Bellona's hardy son. 
 Yet constant to the morning gun. 
 Athletic, though at sixty-three. 
 You oft might in his trenches see : 
 For now, the proud embattl'd field 
 Forgot, his grounds the warrior till'd, 
 As, ere frivolity had birth. 
 Did the great fathers of the earth ; 
 Ere sovereign power requir'd the aid 
 Of splendour, pageant, and parade. 
 Did mighty chiefs, whose sovereign sway 
 Resum'd, might bid the world obey ; 
 
 A female, blanch'd by age and cares, 
 Manag'd the veteran's house affairs ;
 
 8 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And in its neatness you might trace 
 
 Her qualities to fill the place ; 
 
 But for precision, and a gift 
 
 At marketing, and household thrift. 
 
 No wife or maid in Walford town 
 
 Might challenge place of Margaret Brown. 
 
 'Tis sure all housewifery she knew ; 
 
 Could pickle, salt, preserve, and brew ; 
 
 Tell quantities without the book. 
 
 Get linen neatly up, and cook ; 
 
 Comfort at slender cost induce. 
 
 And turn small things to weighty use. 
 
 Hail ! homely virtues ! so the mind 
 
 Intent to benefit its kind. 
 
 Observes the mighty in the small. 
 
 And gathers good from all to all : 
 
 So marks the muse, with fond essay, 
 
 The moral of her simple lay ; 
 
 Ambitious if she might conduce 
 
 As well to profit as amuse ; 
 
 Full vain if like event might crown 
 
 Her cares and those of Margaret Brown ; 
 
 For Margaret in her small essays 
 
 Deserv'd, and found, an honest praise.
 
 THE RETIRKU LIEUTENANT. 9 
 
 Yet often to liis social guest 
 Tlic warrior Margaret's worth confess'd. 
 ^Vhcn prais'd at hoard his frugal meal, 
 Or complimented on his ale. 
 My commissary, he would say, 
 In his jocose and social way, 
 If merit were the mark of rate. 
 Ere this had worn an epaulet ; 
 She knows to forage for, or dress 
 The rations of a soldier's mess. 
 Can cure her stores, her liquors fine. 
 With any sutler in the line. 
 And truth it was, she every way 
 So selvag'd out her master's pay, 
 And with such luck her thrift was crown'd. 
 That at his hoard the veteran found 
 Of wholesome fare, and frugal cheer. 
 No stint or stoppage all the year. 
 
 When thus the hero of our theme 
 To Walford quarters came to claim. 
 That he hy any in or near 
 The town w^as known does not appear.
 
 10 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 But nature, Halbert's warmest friend. 
 Had in his person's mould ordain'd 
 That no where he with ease might shun 
 The curious eye, or hve unknown : 
 His height six feet, by martial guage, 
 That portliness that graces age. 
 His manly countenance and mien. 
 His gold and scarlet always clean. 
 Hat cock'd to regulation true. 
 White hair, and military queue. 
 Had all accorded to secure 
 Him from a destiny obscure. 
 And here, the gate which to the road 
 Open'd from his serene abode. 
 Soon gave him, on the market days, 
 And Sundays, to the public gaze. 
 
 And from the first 'twas Halbert's whim. 
 Complete in military trim. 
 Upon his cottage esplanade 
 To make his Sunday morn's parade. 
 Marshal his mind, and taste the air. 
 As went the borough chime for prayer.
 
 TllK KKTIRKI) LIEUTENANT. 11 
 
 And there, as thus he pae'd his green. 
 By all the Walford people seen 
 In passing to the church below. 
 Soon by the hat and rustic bow 
 Remark and homage was express'd, 
 And ne'er by his neglect repress'd. 
 
 Again, as duly would return 
 The lively w^eekly market morn. 
 When sylvan dames, with thrift and thought, 
 To town their wares and daughters brought. 
 And throngs in Walford street, elate 
 With trade, and talk, and friendship, met ; 
 Halbert, in forage order clean, 
 Would o'er his gate familiar lean ; 
 And, pleas'd himself when he could please. 
 Would price the butter, eggs, and cheese ; 
 Talk of the crops, the rise and fall 
 Of grains ; and oft, though funds were small. 
 Judging their honour by his own, 
 Would buy, and never bate them down. 
 
 Thus far and near of Halbert )au 
 Report ; and, his affairs to scan.
 
 12 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 A great and universal buzz 
 
 Amongst the Walford gossips rose. 
 
 'Tis not in our records set down 
 
 Precise how much it cost the town ; 
 
 What works, what wares of every sort. 
 
 What ells of stuffs and camblets, short 
 
 Of wonted tale, in Walford's trade. 
 
 Our warrior's first appearance made ; 
 
 But many a shuttle, sledge, and mill. 
 
 Hours when they should have mov'd stood still. 
 
 Nor was the stir that mov'd the town 
 
 Confin'd to labour's race alone ; 
 
 The borough heads could not conceal 
 
 The passion ; nay, the more genteel 
 
 Forbore not asking whence, and who 
 
 Our hero was : but no one knew. 
 
 While he, adjusting his affairs. 
 
 And busied in prudential cares 
 
 To square his means, his plans to lay 
 
 Fairly to meet the future day, 
 
 Employ'd, or in his grounds or cot. 
 
 Nor sought nor shunn'd the public note. 
 
 Nor dream'd that he remark had found 
 
 Of any past an acre round.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 13 
 
 Thus took our warrior up his lone 
 Encampment, all at first unknown : 
 But deem not that he loni; remained 
 At Walford town without a friend. 
 No dark misanthropy of mind 
 Had barr'd his bosom to his kind. 
 No sour disgust, or sullen pride, 
 The yearnings of his heart had dried ; 
 But open stood his nature all 
 To worthy friendship's social call ; 
 And by the rule all nature through. 
 As well of mind as matter true. 
 That Hke to likeness ever tends. 
 Soon found he 'mongst his neighbours friends. 
 
 The wide-extended fields that join'd 
 Our hero's orchard fence behind. 
 Were held by Adam Goss, a warm 
 Substantial veoman near, in farm. 
 A yeoman of the early breed 
 Was trusty Adam, plain indeed. 
 But such as, ere the hardy race 
 Refinement sought, were England's grace ;
 
 14 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Ere pride adventur'd to invade 
 The manners of the sylvan shade, 
 Were found the strong and trusty stand 
 Of a content and prosperous land. 
 
 The farmer was in person plain ; 
 Nor might at first his manners gain 
 On minds whose estimate begin 
 Without ; he was the man within : 
 All sound untainted English stuff 
 Plain, generous, sincere, and rough ; 
 Strong for his priviliges, true 
 To freedom's rights, but loyal too ; 
 He loved the news, discuss'd the laws. 
 But saw their worth, as well as flaws : 
 In fine, in Goss to truth was drawn 
 A bold and honest Englishman. 
 
 Now, as the farmer took his rounds 
 In survey of his grain and grounds, 
   And Halbert reconnoiter'd too. 
 
 They sometimes pass'd in mutual view ; 
 And, moved by the kindly law 
 That fellow-souls together draw.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 15 
 
 A\'licn thus their walks adjacent lay. 
 They socially exchanged. Good day ; 
 Words grew from words, discourse increas'd. 
 Their kindred natures stood confess'd : 
 And rising by gradations true. 
 They into full acquaintance grew : 
 The farmer scarcely miss'd a day 
 To call with something new to say ; 
 And well his part the veteran bore. 
 For he of marvellous tales had store. 
 
 But ere 'twas long, while thus engaged. 
 They were in talk, the sky presag'd 
 A sudden storm ; thick over head 
 The clouds in mantling masses spread ; 
 Wild fleaks of lightning seem'd to sere 
 The fields, and thunder rent the air ; 
 And, bursting from the sky obscure, 
 A flood of rain began to pour : 
 When Guise, his sheltering cot to share. 
 Besought the swain, with gallant air ; 
 And, pleas'd at an event which wrought 
 Towards the friendship which he sought, 
 
 c
 
 16 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 As well as glad to shun the blast. 
 The farmer gaily thither pass'd. 
 
 'Twas late in autumn, and the year 
 Was cold, the hearth and fire were clear. 
 And grave assiduous Margaret, who 
 The farmer's worth and opulence knew. 
 Made haste upon the board to place 
 The ale and cheese, the house to grace ; 
 And farmer Goss, with court'sey due. 
 Partook the fare and prais'd it too. 
 
 But if his thus discovered friend 
 From first, of Goss, regard had gain'd ; 
 In his retirement him to view. 
 Regard to veneration grew : 
 For to behold him plac'd among 
 His arms, which round in order hung. 
 His form and aspect, which defin'd 
 Resistless power, with valour join'd; 
 Might well the eye, unwont to trace 
 Such presences, with awe impress. 
 But there jocosely o'er their ale 
 The friends resum'd their broken tale :
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 17 
 
 And still by topics new constrain'd, 
 The yeoman bold with Guise remain'd 
 Till both forgot the passing shower. 
 And fast drew on the dinner hour. 
 
 At length his calling glanc'd across 
 His memory, and the farmer rose : 
 And now you've shewn your courtesy. 
 Allow, he cried, like chance to me ; 
 To-morrow, if the day be fine. 
 You at the farm with us shall dine ; 
 Dame Goss, my wife, is fi'ank and kind. 
 Though not what fashion calls refm'd ; 
 My Httle ones are rough and rude. 
 Though oft the parson calls them good ; 
 But come ! at least our hearts are warm. 
 You'll dine to-morrow at the farm. 
 
 My friend, the veteran, smiling, cried. 
 Demands so kind are ill denied ; 
 But if your court'sy thus I share. 
 Scarce will my presence pay your care. 
 Pshaw ! cried the swain : and bv the hand 
 The veteran shook, with aspect bland.
 
 18 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 We shall be proud to see you store 
 Our board ; then strode towards the door. 
 Naming again the coming day ; 
 And o'er the upland took his way. 
 
 Brave Guise, ere this, had much subdu'd 
 That loathing strong of solitude. 
 That love with stir to be combin'd. 
 Which marks the soldier's active mind ; 
 And with his fate and fortunes lone 
 Had nobly to contentment grown ; 
 Yet, thus to be a day releas'd 
 From languid stillness, he was pleas'd ; 
 At thoughts again with life to blend. 
 He felt his latent powers distend. 
 
 He was on foot at early morn. 
 The garden was that day forborne ; 
 And Margaret Brown, enliven'd too. 
 With breakfast to the hour was true. 
 And that, and preparations o'er. 
 Near drew at length the dinner hour ; 
 When issued forth, with looks serene. 
 Brave Guise in all his orders clean ;
 
 Tin: FiF,Tiur:i) MruTEv ant. IJi 
 
 And, passing liis encampment's rear, 
 
 Arm'd with liis staff, he to tlie farm drew near. 
 
 Warm in a vale with culture gay 
 The patriarchal dwelling lay ; 
 Its hoary roof, with tufts of moss 
 Enamell'd, rose, and scarcely rose, 
 O'er piles of corn, and heaps profound 
 Of rural stores that hemm'd it round : 
 Whence barns surcharg'd with winnow'd grains. 
 Stalls, stables, sties, and copious pens, 
 Rang'd o'er the miry basements, rear 
 Their russet copes ; and to the ear 
 The lowing ox, the porker's growl. 
 The screaming goose, and cackling fowl. 
 And neighing steed, in various quire, 
 Proclaim'd the rustic burgh entire. 
 
 Amus'd with the unwont survey 
 Guise slowly thither bent his way : 
 But thus, while, inly entertain'd, 
 He viewed the fortress of his friend, 
 A shape appear'd in motion near 
 AMiich filled him, first, perhaps, with fear :
 
 20 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 A mighty bull, in browsing nigh. 
 Had on his scarlets fix'd his eye ; 
 (For oft the species cannot view 
 Unchaf d that strong impressive hue). 
 And when the meadow's monarch saw 
 Our hero near his empire draw, 
 Arous'd to rage and fury dread. 
 He, spurning earth, towards him made. 
 
 Terrific came the monster on. 
 And chance to scape him there was none : 
 But Guise, collected, calm, and cool. 
 From study long in danger's school. 
 Was straight resolv'd ; and for the shock 
 Grasp'd firm his trusty staff of oak ; 
 A footing sure and solid chose. 
 And thus stood fix'd till he was close ; 
 When, bounding from his course aside. 
 His truncheon so he backward plied 
 Upon his heels, that, bruis'd and craz'd. 
 His floundering hinder quarters raz'd 
 The grass ; and, writhing with his pain. 
 He gor'd the ground and roar'd amain.
 
 TIM. RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 21 
 
 And now, had Ilalbort's nature borne 
 His back upon a foe to turn, 
 He of liis gall'd assailant might 
 Have shunn'd the farther rage by flight : 
 But, rous'd, the hero felt again 
 The fires with which, 'mid heaps of slain, 
 He oft had throucrh the battle burn'd, 
 And at inglorious flight he spurn'd ; 
 Calmly his raging foe review'd. 
 And waited the attack renew'd. 
 
 And short the truce he thus obtain'd. 
 For straight the bull his powers regain'd ; 
 And, to instinctive nature true. 
 Again at Guise he fiercely flew. 
 But, from his punishment, his course 
 Was so abridg'd, and fallen his force. 
 That Halbert, moving round him, saw 
 Occasion apt, and on his jaw. 
 Beside the spreading nostril, laid 
 His rinoinof shaft with force so dread, 
 That at the shock, from anguish fell. 
 His bellowinij rune: through all the vale.
 
 22 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Yet oft, alas ! events of wo 
 E'en out of noblest actions grow : 
 For with such fury Halbert drew 
 The stroke, that short in pieces flew 
 His staff, and to the monster's feud. 
 Without defence, expos'd he stood. 
 And now, as mourn'd Doarthon, long 
 Renown'd for deeds of arms in song, 
 His fields of fame and triumphs o'er. 
 Was slain, inglorious, by a boar. 
 So gallant Guise, of honours full, 
 Seem'd doom'd to fall by Goss's bull ; 
 For still the beast, though wrung with pain. 
 Was mustering to the charge again. 
 
 But Mars and fate had not ordain'd 
 For Halbert that ignoble end ; 
 For thus while fate suspended hung, 
 A mastiff through the meadow sprung. 
 And pinn'd the bull, with bite profound. 
 Fast by the muzzle to the ground ; 
 And farmer Goss, at whose command 
 The dog advanc'd, appear'd at hand,
 
 llli: RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 2o 
 
 AniVd witli a stake and loaded jj;iin ; 
 And, as he thus came laliouring on. 
 He })awrd, with voice that rent the sky, 
 That Bashan should that instant die ; 
 For such denomination hore 
 The bull, the choicest of his store. 
 
 To view the fcirmer's gestures wild. 
 At first the hardy veteran smil'd ; 
 But, fearful of a tragic scene, 
 Advanc'd the beast and him between. 
 And cried. Well said ! be justice done ; 
 But mine the wrong! be mine the gun. 
 'Tis yours ! my friend, cried Goss, to you 
 I own his doom the more is due : 
 When Halbert took the piece with care. 
 And its contents discharg'd in air. 
 And now, cried he, I pray thee, haste 
 And summons from the noble beast 
 Your dog ; all odds with us are even. 
 If Bashan be for this forgiven : 
 If to such freaks he be inur'd, 
 'Twere well, indeed, he were secured ;
 
 24 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 But let him be for this excused. 
 When Goss replied, with shame sufFus'd, 
 Dear friend, your mercy is to blame. 
 His death it is your right to claim ; 
 Yet he is wont to be so mild — 
 He would not injure e'en a child. 
 But, changing to a smile, I've guess'd. 
 Continued Goss, what vex'd the beast ; 
 It was your scarlets ! had you doff 'd 
 Your coat, the farmer said, and laugh'd. 
 You would have found his fury cease. 
 And he'd have Hck'd your hand in peace. 
 
 So ! laughing too, brave Guise replied. 
 For once, it seems, my calling's pride 
 Has almost wrought its own defeat ; 
 But next when I and Bashan meet. 
 Rather than break the public peace. 
 My colours duly shall give place : 
 A homage which I would not do. 
 Content, to Christian, Turk, or Jew. 
 Which said, his dog, with whistle shrill. 
 The farmer summon'd from the bull ;
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 25 
 
 And on his brawny haunch and side. 
 His ponderous stake so venujeful plied, 
 That Baslian, grumbling, from them spurn'd 
 The field, and to his feed returned. 
 
 Now merry o'er the late alarm. 
 The friends advanc'd and gain'd the farm. 
 Where Mrs. Goss, who had with fright 
 And pain observ'd the dangerous fight, 
 Met Halbert with a welcome kind. 
 In which her household mildly join'd : 
 While all her ruddy infant train. 
 Which scarce she could to rule restrain, 
 Mov'd round, behind, the guest to see. 
 Some shy, some innocently free. 
 And some who ecstasies express'd 
 Not by her frowns to be repress'd. 
 But Halbert, in whose bosom drew 
 All nature's strings with impulse true. 
 As he their names and sex defin'd, 
 To each, in turn, said something kind ; 
 Till grown, from his attentions, bold. 
 And, as in his acquaintance old.
 
 26 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Around his chair the elder hung, 
 Ahout his knees the younger clung. 
 Of something making each their boast. 
 As jealous whom he favour'd most ; 
 While, watching all, with fond delight 
 The parents view'd the novel sight. 
 
 An elder son and daughter sought. 
 And also shar'd the veteran's note. 
 The blooming maid, whose face to truth 
 Express'd the mother, bright with youth, 
 Seem'd notably begun to share 
 A portion of the household care. 
 She had not been to music bred, 
 Nor taught embroidery or brocade. 
 To dance cotillions, or to draw ; 
 The globes, 'tis said, she never saw ; 
 Her parents had not with her soar'd 
 To ape the daughters of their lord. 
 But lovely Esther Goss to trace 
 In every native gift and grace. 
 Her bright and animated form 
 To paint in every glowing charm.
 
 THE RETIREU [,IEUTENANT. 27 
 
 Would })laco a lovelier shape in view 
 
 Than ever Titian's pencil drew. 
 
 And Esther, in the rural air. 
 
 Could sing as sweet as she was fair ; 
 
 Could dance, could knit, could spin, and sew ; 
 
 And of geography she knew 
 
 Enough to find the aptest way 
 
 To town upon the market day ; 
 
 And there upon her dapple pad. 
 
 In loose surtout and kerchief clad. 
 
 And o'er her ears her beaver tied. 
 
 With womanly importance hied 
 
 She weekly, and her butter new 
 
 Disposed amongst the favour'd few. 
 
 Her mother said it taught her life. 
 
 And fitted her to be a wife. 
 
 And Halbert, on that gladsome day, . 
 
 Fail'd not to Esther Goss to pay 
 
 The court'sies, still the valiant's care 
 
 And pride to tender to the fair. 
 
 A son, who bore his grandsire's name, 
 Joseph, the heir, and first to claim
 
 28 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 The honours of the line of Goss, 
 Towards the years of manhood rose. 
 His open and unclouded face 
 Seem'd all the father to express ; 
 But in his form Dame Nature told 
 She meant to mend the race's mould. 
 And he, at modest distance plac'd. 
 Soon by our hero's eye was traced ; 
 When, to the blushing younker's pride. 
 He'd have him seated by his side ; 
 And that, and other court'sies shewn 
 By Halbert, so on Joseph won. 
 That ever after he remain'd 
 Our hero's most assiduous friend. 
 
 But, at the courteous hostess' word. 
 At length the dinner crown'd the board. 
 The farmer, reverently in place. 
 To bless the meats pronounc'd the grace. 
 And help'd, with frankness that supplied 
 For polish, largely every side ; 
 While appetite was found to pass 
 Good substitute for foreign sauce ;
 
 TllE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 29 
 
 And tliougli, perchance, might not the feast 
 
 Have mov'd an Epicurean's zest. 
 
 The joints with judgment were combin'd, 
 
 And neatness, with profusion joiii'd. 
 
 In all ; for Mrs. Goss profess'd 
 
 And piqued herself upon her taste : 
 
 And had great Epicurus rear'd 
 
 His head, and ([uarrellous interfer'd, 
 
 Tlie sensual sage would there have met 
 
 A dire opponent in debate : 
 
 For Halbert long and oft declar'd 
 
 A nobler treat he never shar'd. 
 
 The dinner o'er, and meats withdrawn. 
 The mental banquet next began ; 
 And Halbert and the farmer gave. 
 In turns, their stories, gay and grave. 
 Till clos'd the late autumnal day. 
 When home our hero took his way. 
 By Joseph Goss attended o'er 
 The uplands to his cottage door. 
 Not that they for the bull took care. 
 For Bashan fed no longer there ;
 
 30 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 The beast his manners so had soiled. 
 That he, by order, was exiled 
 To fields remote, miseen to graze. 
 And pass obscure his future days. 
 
 Thus gallant Halbert first obtain'd. 
 Then, by his manners, fix'd a friend : 
 For now in generous farmer Goss 
 Such interest for his comfort rose ; 
 And all his household so was won 
 By Guise, that, to himself unknown. 
 Long after things so ordered were 
 'Twixt Mrs. Goss and Margaret's care. 
 That oft a ham his pantry stor'd, 
 A fowl, or griskin, grac'd his board ; 
 And oft, when he alone would dine, 
 A cup of grape or currant wine 
 The languor of his stillness cheer'd. 
 And never in his bills appear'd. 
 
 The joint regard which thus had sprung 
 'Twixt Goss and Halbert yet was young ; 
 But daily it in strength increas'd. 
 Formalities between them ceas'd.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 31 
 
 And tliey their visits, unieserv'd, 
 Exchang^'d, as whim or humour serv'd. 
 And shortly, on a vacant day. 
 When Halbert thus in social way 
 Call'd at the farm, Goss, towards night. 
 While talking over matters light. 
 Demanded if our hero knew 
 Their worthy neighbour, Mr. Drew ; 
 And, on his negative, rejoin'd — 
 We'll call on him — he'll take it kind. 
 Goss press'd, nor could his friend refuse ; 
 They went that night to sup at Drew's. 
 
 Drew had been fortunate, and made 
 A decent competence in trade ; 
 Had plac'd his sons, as they had grown. 
 In useful callings of their own ; 
 And, having known both smooth and rough, 
 Retir'd, contented with enough. 
 He had been call'd at times to fill 
 The dignities parochial. 
 And to collect, at various dates. 
 The taxes and the parish rates ; 
 
 D
 
 32 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 
 
 Had done his duty ; and, to boot, 
 Preserv'd through all a good repute : 
 Indeed, the heads, the county through. 
 So much respected Mr. Drew, 
 That he was nam'd to hold a place. 
 When vacant, m the county peace ; 
 And Justice Humphries was so ill, 
 'Twas thought he soon the chair would fill. 
 
 The sun had sunk from Walford spire. 
 And socially, beside their fire, 
 This ancient trader and his dame 
 Were talking, days of old their theme ; 
 His greatest trouble, nought to do, 
 Her's that she could not see to sew ; 
 When, at their gate a ponderous knock 
 The farmer's blunt arrival spoke. 
 And cordially the ancient pair 
 Receiv'd their guests ; and much they were 
 Rejoic'd that Mr. Goss was free. 
 And proud beneath their roof to see 
 An officer had held command 
 In battle for the king and land.
 
 THE ULTIRED LIEUTENANT. 33 
 
 On various points, witli various power. 
 Talk circled ; at the supper-hour 
 The cloth was laid, the best appear'd. 
 And all a hearty welcome cheer'd ; 
 And as the conversation press'd. 
 Each help'd the knowledge he possess'd. 
 On landed interests Mr. Goss 
 Was fluent, never at a loss ; 
 And, on the county business, few 
 Could speak in point with Mr. Drew. 
 But still the theme in chief request. 
 E'en by the courteous hostess press'd. 
 Was Halbert's news of kingdoms far. 
 Of battles and the fates of war. 
 And many exploits, adventures bold. 
 And moving tales the warrior told ; 
 And ceas'd not till, to Drew's regret. 
 The hour arriv'd to separate ; 
 When he from Guise a promise gain'd 
 With him a frequent hour to spend ; 
 And ever after Halbert knew 
 A trusty friend in honest Drew.
 
 34 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Thus grew the veteran's neighbours kind ; 
 Nor merely would his noble mind 
 Their court'sies meet with honour due. 
 But often he return'd them too. 
 As time the anniversaries brought 
 Of battles fam'd in which he fought ; 
 Or, hail'd by loyalty's acclaim. 
 The birth-day of the sovereign came ; 
 By timely notices secur'd 
 His friends assembled round his board. 
 And shar'd, in pride of the event, 
 Sound fare and manly merriment. 
 Was it with him to celebrate 
 A victory that his guests had met ; 
 Then, round his parlour in array 
 The arms in which he fought that day 
 Were slung, triumphant, bruis'd, but bright. 
 Amid the trophies of the fight. 
 Which he had from the vanquish'd wrung ; 
 To each of which a story hung 
 That, told in nature, might inspire 
 The dullest with heroic fire : 
 And on occasions such as this. 
 Our hero was in nought remiss.
 
 IHE KKTIREI) LIKUTENANT. .'M 
 
 The movements of the glorious day. 
 And marcliings, he would then portray ; 
 And next tlie gallant deeds proclaim 
 Of chiefs and regiments, name by name ; 
 And, having yielded each their right. 
 His own he'd modestly recite ; 
 Would, punctual to the hour^ as well 
 As geographic minute, tell 
 The point at which the feat was done. 
 That such or such a trophy won : 
 And, grown at the remembrance warm. 
 Would bare his dark but mighty arm. 
 At once the glorious scar to shew 
 And weapon that had dealt the blow. 
 And, in succession, tales like these 
 Told with such fluency and ease. 
 That fancy almost might behold 
 The deeds perform'd of which he told. 
 
 Thus Guise, when great events would lend 
 Their zest, his neighbours entertain'd ; 
 At other times, alone, content. 
 His evenings he in quiet spent ;
 
 36 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT- 
 
 But, at the farm, in various ways. 
 With Goss he often pass'd his days ; 
 And, with the farmer, would survey 
 His fields, and study husbandry. 
 Learn when the lands should fallow lie. 
 What crops would suit the damp or dry. 
 What time the grains were to be sown. 
 And how to judge the pulse, when grown. 
 Attend the busy reaper-train ; 
 Review the housing of the grain ; 
 And, punctual every year, was there 
 The merry harvest-home to share. 
 
 But pastimes of a graver kind 
 Sometimes employ'd the veteran's mind. 
 He who, from Walford's justice chair. 
 Had Judgment's fulminations dire 
 For forty years, from time to time, 
 Hurl'd boldly at the hydra Crime, 
 Had given the hope of conquest o'er — 
 Old Justice Humphries was no more ; 
 And Drew, now Samuel Drew, Esquire, 
 Wasdubb'd a justice of the shire.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And, thus his highest aim achiev'd, 
 When the commission Drew receiv'd. 
 He, at the high instahnent feast. 
 Where Halbert was a special guest, 
 Assur'd the veteran he'd be proud, 
 When other calhng time allow'd. 
 To see him take his station near 
 Him in the reverend justice chair ; 
 And gallant Guise his friend assur'd 
 He often would ; and kept his word. 
 For often, on the pubHc days. 
 When the contentions, brawls, and frays. 
 That vex'd the town, or nightly harm, 
 Call'd forth the magisterial arm. 
 Seated the justice gravely near, 
 He'd all the borough jarrings hear ; 
 And oft his presence spread an awe. 
 Did more for peace than could the law ; 
 His aspect stern, and person strong. 
 So staid the right, and aw'd the wrong. 
 That his appearance there was view'd 
 By many as a public good. 
 
 .37
 
 38 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Thus, studies of the borough law 
 From studying corn brave Guise would draw : 
 And in his shrewd remarks, and keen 
 Observes on both, such powers were seen. 
 That it was difficult to tell 
 In which his genius might excel. 
 But, thus while languid age he eas'd. 
 His friends he ever charm'd and pleas'd. 
 
 Nor were his friends to few confin'd ; 
 His manners mild, and nature kind. 
 To him of all the favour bent. 
 And won him grace where'er he went. 
 At church, of which he still avaiFd 
 Himself, and ne'er on Sunday fail'd. 
 In full regalia to prefer 
 The homage due to Heaven in prayer. 
 His grave demeanour, which contain'd 
 A piety not to be feign*d. 
 Oft from the baron's pew had been 
 Remark'd, and by the parson seen : 
 For oft, at church, with secret joy. 
 The parson would his reverence eye ;
 
 TlIK RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 39 
 
 And he at cliurcli, the parson, too, 
 Adniii'd, 'twas all of him he knew. 
 But fortune, with whatever views. 
 So ordered that, ere long, at Drew's, 
 The brave defender of the state 
 And warrior of the Spirit met. 
 
 In their conditions clearly stood 
 A sympathetic brotherhood : 
 Both cited to vocations high ; 
 Both faithful ; both neglected by 
 The aids preferment that secure ; 
 Both old and honourably poor ; 
 Both to their destinies resign'd ; 
 And e'en their manners of a kind. 
 
 Such points of coalescence seen, 
 'Twill move no wonder that between 
 Them, at the earliest interview. 
 Regard and fellow feeling grew. 
 It therefore needs but mention here 
 That thencefore thev were friends sincere : 
 And though the parson's spiritual cares 
 Small leisure left for light affairs.
 
 40 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 The veteran oft the hour would share 
 He could to worldly converse spare ; 
 Yet oft between them less was given. 
 E'en of that hour, to earth than heaven. 
 
 The parson was a man who stood 
 Much on a life of rectitude : 
 That is, he held it small avail 
 To plead his faith, for living well ; 
 The doctrines he at church discours'd 
 His manners in the world enforc'd ; 
 He taught what it was good to do. 
 And taught but what he practis'd too ; 
 He never sought to please the sense 
 By tropes, and studied eloquence. 
 By metaphor or symbol smooth 
 To mould to fashion gospel truth : 
 Indifferent of the world's account. 
 Like Him that preach'd upon the mount. 
 The meek and penitent he cheer'd ; 
 But, high or low, where faults appear'd. 
 He by the sword from Scripture drawn, 
 Superior to the fear of man.
 
 TlIK RETIRED LIEUTENANT. tl 
 
 A champion in his Master's mij^ht. 
 Put sin to shame, and vice to flight. 
 
 No priestly fopperies had he. 
 No purpose-serving sanctity ; 
 No aims, hy counterfeited zeal. 
 To earthly dignities to steal ; 
 For to his soul the hope was given 
 A mitre waited him in heaven. 
 A settled calm sat on his face 
 Above the world's contigencies ; 
 A peace unmoved by joy or pain 
 At worldly loss, or worldly gain. 
 For he had treasures under seal 
 Where robbers break not throuc:h to steal. 
 
 Yet, though to schemes of worldly pride 
 And self-advancing cares denied. 
 His heart, by charity imbu'd. 
 Sought ceaseless to do others good. 
 The sick who sunk disease beneath 
 Found him a friend in life and death ; 
 By his compassion sorrow's head 
 Was rais'd, and miserv cloth'd and fed.
 
 42 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Not from his narrow funds, indeed. 
 Could he administer to need. 
 But he advanc'd the sufferer's prayer. 
 Where'er there was a boon to spare : 
 And, of the plea, whate'er the claim. 
 Such weight was in the pleader's name. 
 So pure his life from selfish stain. 
 He seldom mov'd his suit in vain. 
 
 Of those, amongst the wealthy round. 
 With whom the parson's suit had found 
 A constant ear, and prompt relief. 
 The baron's lady was the chief. 
 The baron's ancestors had been 
 The feudal lords of the domain. 
 And from their ancient power had grown 
 Great weight and influence in the town ; 
 But offices of high import 
 Detain'd the baron much at court ; 
 High place and power in state affairs 
 Detach'd his mind from lighter cares. 
 And those, in all that might avail 
 The borough or the manor's weal.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 43 
 
 The poor to succour, or redress 
 The wrong'd, lay with the baroness ; 
 Who, not dispos'd her mind to drown 
 In fashion's vortex in the town. 
 Demure as may her taste appear, 
 Liv'd in the country all the year. 
 And though the parson oft appeal'd. 
 The lady's bounty never fail'd ; 
 His suit in her benevolent mind 
 Found ever a reception kind. 
 Oft, too, with him she would unbend 
 Her rank, and, as a social friend. 
 Converse upon his pastoral cares. 
 On passing news, and town affairs. 
 
 Now, it appears, the town's surprise. 
 When first appear'd our veteran Guise, 
 The curiosity confusd 
 That rag'd, the countess had amus'd ; 
 And, though that wonder now had ceas'd. 
 By time, or wonders new, replac'd. 
 She had observ'd his reverend air 
 At church, and constant presence there ;
 
 44 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And, deeming she in him defin'd 
 The features of superior mind. 
 Oft in her bosom wishes grew 
 That more of his estate she knew ; 
 And this, her generous request. 
 She to the parson now express'd. 
 
 The parson, eager to do good 
 To all, but chief where merit stood 
 His warrant, Halbert's history knew 
 Both from himself and Justice Drew : 
 And, doubtless, nothing now set forth 
 Detractory of our hero's worth. 
 But records and traditions fail 
 What pass'd precisely to detail ; 
 And what was said, or that, or this. 
 We do not learn, and will not guess : 
 Suffice it, ere a month had flown 
 The baron to his seat came down ; 
 And, ere 'twas long. Lieutenant Guise 
 Receiv'd a note, with strange surprise. 
 Inviting him, on what design 
 He knew not, with my lord to dine.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 The baron, wlio had grown morose 
 In brawls poHtical, was close 
 And distant ; but his mind, though bent 
 By business, was benevolent. 
 And his discourse, at first, with Guise, 
 On every subject was concise 
 And cautious : thus he sought to scan. 
 In all he co\ild not see, the man. 
 He first the hardy veteran ask'd 
 His years of regular service ; task'd 
 Him close on each campaign, and siege. 
 Where actually he did engage. 
 Then mus'd ; then ask'd his generals' names ; 
 Spoke low, and half aside, of claims ; 
 Ask'd, and again made him the date 
 Of his lieutenancy repeat ; 
 Confess'd his regiment's brave essays 
 Had merited their country's praise ; 
 But mark'd, how hardly could be serv'd 
 Particular claims, where all deserv'd : 
 Then, delicately to evade 
 A point where little could be said. 
 He tried the brave lieutenant's skill 
 And reach on points professional ;
 
 46 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And oft could scarce conceal surprise 
 To hear his soldier-like replies ; 
 His bold and penetrating sense. 
 Which, temper'd all by diffidence, 
 Announc'd a strong redundant mind 
 To spheres beneath its powers confin'd. 
 
 Meanwhile, to all at table said 
 The countess less attention paid. 
 Than in the duties of the feast 
 To render honour to her guest : 
 Yet, as the conversation veer'd. 
 Where case or incident appear'd 
 That set the veteran's service forth 
 To vantage, or implied his worth. 
 Her sure remark brought more to light 
 The fact, or gave the inference weight. 
 Till, mov'd by unperceiv'd degrees. 
 The baron brighten'd, seem'd at ease. 
 And by his courtesies confess'd 
 Brave Halbert an approved guest. 
 
 Nor was the peer, at length, confin'd 
 To courtesies of trivial kind.
 
 THE RKTlllliD LIliUTliNANT. 47 
 
 For, dinner o'er, by state parade 
 
 Attended, he tlie veteran led 
 
 Into the great baronial hall 
 
 Where blazonings armorial. 
 
 And scutcheons nioulder'd, to define 
 
 The length and glories of his line ; 
 
 And where, involv'd in sheets of rust. 
 
 And, at the least, a century's dust. 
 
 Well vouchini>" those who us'd them stronj', 
 
 The armour of his fathers hung : 
 
 Dumb monitors of many a jar. 
 
 In chivalry and feudal war ! 
 
 Yet shedding through their gloom sublime. 
 
 The glories of departed time. 
 
 And need the lingering lay recite 
 Our warrior's supreme delight ? 
 Will it be thoui^ht his heart was cold 
 While deeds of heroes past were told ; 
 While deign'd the baron to expound 
 Each club and ponderous missile round. 
 Which, now to war though last in name, 
 Will ever swell the rolls of fame ? 
 
 E
 
 48 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Suffice it, all things were explain'd, 
 And Halbert, highly entertain'd. 
 In his remarks oft shrewdly drew 
 From subjects old reflections new ; 
 And worthy the regard might claim 
 As well his noble host, as theme. 
 
 At length when, at approach of eve. 
 Brave Guise prepar'd to take his leave. 
 The peer, observing all polite 
 Respect, as his profession's right. 
 Did furthermore to him award, 
 As special mark of his regard. 
 The freedom of his game and grounds 
 For sport, through all the manor's bounds 
 And, finally, with warmth unfeign'd, 
 Desir'd to be esteem'd his friend. 
 When Halbert duteous took his way. 
 Still pondering to what cause to lay 
 Such high distinction to him shewn 
 By nobles all to him unknown. 
 
 But morn, in scenes secure to please, 
 Brouglit him again his wonted ease ;
 
 TIN, IU.I'lHi;i) IJEUTKNANT. tf) 
 
 With home and humble fare content. 
 
 As wont he in his garden spent 
 
 Those seasons when the etlier bland 
 
 Opens the earth to culture's hand ; 
 
 Nor, when his little grounds were lost, 
 
 With all the world without, in frost. 
 
 Would he effeminately shun 
 
 The fields, and pleasures of his gun. 
 
 But when the winter, cloth'd in rain 
 
 And darkness, drench'd the cheerless plain, 
 
 His time, as might his age require. 
 
 He pass'd beside his cottage fire ; 
 
 Employ'd, as might the whim obtain, 
 
 But never mentally in vain : 
 
 For, though our hero was not rife 
 
 Of lore, or vers'd in books, or life, 
 
 'Yond what the camp or tented field. 
 
 At duty's intervals, might yield ; 
 
 Yet sketches of the world he knew. 
 
 And read occasionally, too. 
 
 And near his chimney, on tlie right. 
 
 Convenient both for warmtli and liidit. 
 
 His books, on shehes of massive wood. 
 
 In various boards and bjiidinirs stood.
 
 50 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 His books, and let not pedants mock 
 At Halbert's taste and classic stock. 
 Were, like the fates that had supplied 
 Their store, in kind diversified. 
 Here, Moore Carew for fame made head 
 On the same shelf with Charles the Swede ; 
 The conqueror fam'd of Macedon 
 With Robin Hood and Little John. 
 Here rang'd — companions, social guests — 
 John Bunyan's wars, Joe Miller's jests ; 
 Here, moral maxims, cures for care. 
 Ballads, bon-mots, and books of prayer ; 
 Charts, sermons, tales, and gazetteers. 
 Mingled, unconscious compeers. 
 Association strange ! to wait 
 The memory of the proud, the great, 
 The wise, the ingenious, and the brave. 
 The learn'd, the witty, and the grave ; 
 But ye who present joys disclaim. 
 To catch the phantom, future fame. 
 Deem little, down life's dubious steep. 
 What fellowship you'll have to keep.
 
 I llf: lU'TIltr.I) MLITI.NANT. 51 
 
 Such Halbert's field supplies had been : 
 But now a history, magazine, 
 Or travels, more would him anuise. 
 But over all he lov'd the news : 
 And, true to order, from the town 
 The court gazette came weekly down ; 
 The faithful oracle of Mars, 
 With all the tidings of the wars ; 
 The news at court, the list at Lloyd's, 
 The weather, holidays, and tides ; 
 The London markets, in detail. 
 With all commodities on sale. 
 And what the produce, what the ware 
 That is not marketable there ? 
 There, where the earth and sea's supplies 
 Might trade's avidities suffice, 
 What virtue is not daily sold 
 For influence, place, or power, or gold ? 
 And, from the 'Change, the world's resort. 
 From crowded Cornhill to the court. 
 The scrivener to the kingdom's head — 
 Who trucks not in the dirty trade ?
 
 52 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 But over all in the gazette 
 News of the war was Halbert's treat. 
 On foreign service all his length 
 Of life, he knew each place of strength ; 
 Could every post and pass define 
 Between the Danube and the Rhine ; 
 And scarce a fresh despatch arriv'd. 
 But its localities reviv'd 
 Pursuits of glory, though resign'd. 
 Ne'er to be sever'd from his mind. 
 Then, sometimes, 'mongst the past reviews. 
 With spirits sunk, he'd sit and muse 
 Upon the splendid hopes that lent 
 His youth its fire, and their event : 
 Through the long march, the watchful night. 
 And battle at the dawn of light. 
 The hopes that fed his ardour's flame. 
 The hope of eminence and name ; 
 All past ! and the event to be 
 Retrenchment, age, obscurity! 
 Life lingering till the memory rot, 
 And, but to die, to be forgot !
 
 nil; Ri;riRi;i) likutknant. o.3 
 
 Hut these were iilucjins that ()\erciisL 
 Rarely his peace, and soon were past ; 
 Tumors of the inverted brain, 
 His vigorous sentiment's disdain ; 
 The selfish dreams that liaunt the slave, 
 Scorn'd by the generous and brave ; 
 Whose country's good their single ahn ; 
 Its wealth, theirs ; its renown, their fame ; 
 And soon the sun of Ilalbert's mind 
 Dispell'd such damps and broodings bhnd. 
 And next when news of the campaign 
 Arriv'd, when the gazette again 
 Announc'd the armies on their route. 
 His charts and gazetteers were out ; 
 And with his compasses and scale 
 Through many a track he knew full well. 
 He'd mark their movements, and presage 
 Almost the day they would engage. 
 
 Then, on the calculated night 
 For the despatches of the fight. 
 If Britons, to their colours true. 
 Had done as he had seen them do.
 
 54 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 His friends were ask'd, his zeal who shar'd ; 
 
 His great oak table was prepar'd ; 
 
 And spectacl'd, for surer sight. 
 
 Gazette in left hand, chalk in right. 
 
 True to official sense throughout 
 
 He'd mark the moving battle out ; 
 
 Lay down the lines and lengthen'd ranks. 
 
 The hollow square, and deep phalanx. 
 
 The direful batt'ries, the redoubts. 
 
 The flying squadrons, and the scouts 
 
 Alert at distance to observe 
 
 The flanks, and the remote reserve. 
 
 Th' eventful battle now begun, 
 He'd o'er its mixing movements run ; 
 Point out th' artillery first discharg'd. 
 The lines that in succession charg'd. 
 Where horse and foot like havoc spread. 
 And strew'd the trembling earth with dead. 
 Then would he mark the pass or post " 
 So often won, so often lost ; 
 Where chief the battle's fury rag'd. 
 And only heroes were engag'd ;
 
 THE KLTIIIED LIEUTENANT. 5;") 
 
 Where, silenced on each side the gun, 
 By arm and steel the work was done. 
 And foes, encountering heard to heard, 
 Victor, or vanquish'd, glory shar'd. 
 
 Then, when impeded hy its wrecks, 
 Dismonnted cannon, hamlets, hrakes. 
 And farms on fire, the hattle spread 
 In meagre hands, hut still array 'd. 
 He'd follow every corps with care ; 
 Expunge them here, and dot them there ; 
 And every march and movement shew 
 Up to the final overthrow : 
 So clearly, none could ever say 
 Whether the most their wonder lay. 
 Throughout the various detail. 
 Upon the teller, or the tale. 
 
 Thus would the veteran oft amuse 
 Himself and neighbours o'er the news : 
 And to enjoy his favourite treat. 
 Which still was new with each gazette, 
 Howe-'er engagements else might fall, 
 News-night was set apart from all.
 
 56 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Towards the hour the post came in. 
 Brave Guise was regularly within ; 
 His table and his easy chair 
 Plac'd to the light, and Margaret's ear. 
 Instinctively, an hour before 
 The time, alert upon the door ; 
 And with miscarriages but few. 
 The news arriv'd, to contract true. 
 
 But, one news evening, be it known. 
 The post brought not the news alone. 
 That night a second packet came 
 Which made to note even stronger claim. 
 On it the stamps of office were 
 Distinct ; its superscription fair, 
 " On service, to Lieutenant Guise," 
 Brave Halbert read with strong surprise ; 
 And its contents to understand. 
 He broke its seal with careful hand ; 
 And found that it in form express'd 
 Lieutenant Halbert Guise replac'd. 
 By order, from a stated day. 
 On actual service, and full pay.
 
 THK RETIllEl) LIKUTENANT. 57 
 
 Next said, " Tlie king, on viewing his 
 Long and right trnsty services. 
 Had pleas'd to grant him the degree. 
 Honour, and rank of captaincy ;" 
 And further charg'd him to " take heed. 
 And with convenient liaste proceed. 
 As these instructions came to hand. 
 To London, and await command." 
 
 The warrior's heart advanc'd and fled 
 By turns, while he the letter read ; 
 It was correct — there could not he 
 Doubt of its authenticity ! 
 He hesitated, read, and then. 
 Considering, read it o'er again : 
 Then letting it as genuine pass. 
 He strove to guess its moving cause ; 
 But guess'd in vain, for, all unknown 
 To him, 'twas by the baron done. 
 For he no sooner reach'd the court, 
 Than of brave Guise he made report. 
 And purpos'd speedily to bring 
 Him to the presence of the king.
 
 5j8 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 But Halbert still in mind revolv'd 
 Th' event ; and still it stood unsolv'd. 
 Yet, long inur'd, without delay 
 Or question, orders to obey. 
 As soon as his resolves had grown 
 To form, he summon'd Margaret Brown ; 
 And, with his wonted placid air. 
 Gave her instructions to prepare 
 Upon the morrow for his route ; 
 As he for London should set out 
 The following day ; which, having said, 
 And lightly supp'd, he went to bed. 
 
 He pass'd the night absorb'd in thought. 
 Into a thousand visions wrought ; 
 Nor had, nor seem'd to need repose ; 
 Yet at the dawn, as wont, he rose ; 
 And, long experienc'd to prepare 
 For sudden movements, by his care 
 All things were quickly in array 
 For marching on the coming day. 
 And as he, early, his polite 
 Respects had issued to invite
 
 THt Rr/nKi:D mkctenan r. 59 
 
 His friends, and cliioHy Goss and Drew, 
 To hid them all a kind adieu, 
 The paeking scarce was o'er, and clear'd 
 The way, when all of them appear'd. 
 
 And now congratulations pass'd. 
 And compHments ran loud and fast ; 
 The farmer, in his wonted vein. 
 Dwelt, pleas'd, on gallant Halbert's gain 
 In the advancement of his state ; 
 And hop'd, with ardour, that he yet 
 Would see him largely, as he ought. 
 Share of the soil for which he fought. 
 
 The happy days they had enjoy'd 
 Together, and the dreary void 
 That to their friendships would ensue. 
 Lay heaviest at first on Drew ; 
 But those regrets were soon subdu'd ; 
 The change was to his friend for good ; 
 And, fairly calculating thence. 
 He hoped, one day, to see his sense 
 Employ'd in public justice' cause. 
 Fence, equal witii his sword, the laws.
 
 60 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Brave Halbert, though 'twas honour's call 
 Remov'd hmi, his regrets to all 
 That he must leave them oft express'd ; 
 But said, they ever in his breast 
 Should live : and, though the king's commands 
 Might send him to remotest lands. 
 Through every fortune in his mind 
 Their memories grateful place should find. 
 
 And now his friends to his affairs 
 Domestic turn'd their generous cares ; 
 And, after they were oft revolv'd 
 In mind, it was at length resolv'd 
 That, under Goss and Drew's survey, 
 Margaret in household charge should stay. 
 Keep all in order, and go on. 
 Until, his destination known. 
 Her master, as was his benign 
 Intention, should to her assign 
 Such recompense as he could spare, 
 For her true services and care. 
 And thus, all matters order'd right. 
 The hour of marching fixed for eight
 
 THli JlLTIlU;i) i,ii:rTi;NA.\T. 01 
 
 The coming morn, and every friend 
 Fix'd by his promise to attend. 
 The serious conference early rose. 
 And left brave Guise to his repose. 
 
 But here we nuist not fail to say. 
 That early on that stirring day. 
 The countess, who had, by advice 
 From London, heard his fortune's rise, 
 A letter to the captain sent 
 Of compliment on the event : 
 Wishing him, courteously, withal. 
 Safe journey to the capital ; 
 And that he might, by worth, assert 
 His rank, and rise to his desert. 
 
 The kind and pious parson, too. 
 Had heard the news, and sent by Drew 
 His grave mementos, to control 
 Ambition ; and forewarn his soul 
 Against neglecting to essay 
 Honours that do not fade away ; 
 Or being by worldly glory driven 
 To forfeit of his crown in heaven.
 
 62 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 And blessed be the *' still small voice," 
 That thus admonishes our choice. 
 By living wisely here, to save 
 The hope of life beyond the grave : 
 For all on its anterior side. 
 So much the source of strife and care. 
 To individual man is tied 
 Only by cords of gossamer. 
 
 His friends withdrawn ; to seek for rest 
 In sleep, brave Guise himself address'd. 
 But, rising slowly to repair 
 To bed, he fciinted in his chair ; 
 A sudden qualm seem'd to o'ercast 
 His powers, yet only came, and pass'd ; 
 For scarce was roused Margaret's fear. 
 When, rallying, he said, with cheer. 
 All's well enough ; and then arose 
 And pass'd, as wont, to his repose. 
 But Margaret, deeming she could spy 
 Change in his countenance and eye. 
 Sat up, in fear of something ill. 
 And hstened oft, but all was still.
 
 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 63 
 
 The morrow dawn'd with lustre bright, 
 On who had pass'd in sleep the night ; 
 But Halbert of that salve of care 
 Again had sought in vain to share. 
 Truth was, that, like the Trojan steel 
 That pierc'd at last Achilles' heel. 
 Events had, of our hero tried. 
 At length assail'd the weaker side : 
 In disappointments he was prov'd ; 
 Adversity had nothing mov'd 
 Him ; on that side, from usage long. 
 His powers and faculties were strong : 
 But unexpectedly to find 
 Hopes, once the magnet of his mind. 
 Ambitions of his blood's full tide. 
 When long extinguish'd, gratified ; 
 Had put an action on his heart 
 That labour'd its corporeal part ; 
 And ask'd his pulses, when too late. 
 To youth's intensities to beat : 
 Yet where in aught his powders declin'd. 
 The flesh was faulty, not the mind. 
 For careful to preclude delay. 
 Brave Halbert rose at dawn of day, 
 
 r
 
 64 THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Regardless of his sleepless night ; 
 And long before the hour of eight, 
 Appear'd in uniform complete 
 For his departure, and to greet 
 His friends, who, emulous in respect. 
 Attended all, to time correct. 
 
 The generous Goss, and Drew, sincere. 
 Were seated close to Halbert's chair. 
 With other friends in order near ; 
 And Margaret waited in the rear ; 
 All painfully resign'd to part : 
 And Halbert seem'd about to start ; 
 But, as he to a question spoke. 
 Fell on his heart a sudden stroke 
 That dow^n his corporeal functions bore. 
 And, sunk on Goss, he seem'd no more. 
 
 Dismay and terror seiz'd on all ; 
 A skilful doctor came at call ; 
 The lancet struck, he, haply, bled, 
 And yet his fluttering spirit staid : 
 But in a stupor still he lay, 
 And little would the doctor say.
 
 Tim Kl.TIIll'l) UFJ^TENANT. 65 
 
 It pass'tl abroad, and was the theme 
 Of general grief; the parson came: 
 The doctor all his art essay'd. 
 And fervently the parson pray'd ; 
 But thus, amidst his friends, till night 
 The warrior lay ; when, hard on eight. 
 He, softly whispering, thank'd their care. 
 And bade them for like hour prepare ; 
 Then, reaching at his sword, he sigh'd. 
 And grasping it convulsive, died ! 
 
 As his preferment first had flown. 
 So now his death spread through the town ; 
 And, such was all the people's grief, 
 'Twas hard to tell the mourners chief. 
 The baroness, with bounty large. 
 Of his obsequies took the charge ; 
 The miUtary, at her claim. 
 From the adjacent city came, 
 And, latest duty to the brave. 
 Did martial honours at his grave. 
 
 His will was found in his 'scrutoire, 
 AMiich this, alas ! sole item bore :
 
 GQ THE RETIRED LIEUTENANT. 
 
 That Margaret Brown, should she survive 
 Him, w^as to hold his house for life ; 
 The same from her to pass secure 
 For ever to the parish poor. 
 And piously to the deceas'd 
 Was executed the bequest. 
 
 The baron, vs^ho had heard in town 
 Of the event, ere long came down ; 
 And to the hero's memory lent 
 A stately granite monument. 
 Whose hardy texture well express'd 
 The rock, while living, that it press'd. 
 And ye, who to our warrior's end 
 Grant the condolence of a friend ; 
 Who have not heard of his renown ? 
 Or ever pass'd through Walford town ? 
 Or, passing there, have not been shown 
 The trophies on the church-way stone ? 
 There, in his last cantonment, lies 
 The brave, the gallant Captain Guise !
 
 THE 
 
 BATTLE OF LONCARTY 
 
 AN 
 
 fcis^torual yotm. 
 
 IN 
 
 r^m <Qi^mY©^.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 This Poem had its origin in a desire to 
 illustrate in verse a famous achievement 
 that took place at the Battle of Loncarty, in 
 Scotland, which happened about the end of 
 the tenth century, in the reign of Kenneth 
 III. ; in which a peasant, named Hay, and 
 his two Sons, who chanced to be ploughing 
 in a field near the place of battle, stayed tlie 
 flight of the Scottish army, when it was on 
 the point of being destroyed, and thereby 
 saved their Country from subjection to the 
 Danish yoke. 
 
 The incident I allude to is, without 
 doubt, one of the most romantic in the
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 history of the world; so much so, indeed, 
 that many, without duly considering the 
 nature of ancient warfare amongst semi- 
 barbarous nations, class it amongst old fables, 
 and give no credit to it. But so many old 
 historians have recorded it as fact, and so 
 clearly are the memorials of it to be traced 
 in the ancient traditions, and even monu- 
 ments, of the quarter in which it happened, 
 that, though later compilers of history, with 
 the natural desire of showing superior saga- 
 city, either overlook the story, or treat it as 
 fabulous, to me it seems to betray a defec- 
 tive knowledge of antiquity to entertain a 
 doubt of it. 
 
 In my boyish days in Scotland I had 
 heard several quaint legends on this event ; 
 but, like other legends, they only excited 
 a momentary gleam of wonder, and passed 
 away without impressing the mind suffi- 
 ciently to secure their remembrance. At a
 
 rUEFACK. VII 
 
 more advanced period of life, however, whan 
 I chanced on the very clear account given of 
 it in Buchanan's history, nationality took up 
 the subject, and I saw no reason why tliis 
 instance of heroic patriotism in ancient 
 Scotland should not have a place in the 
 rolls of fame, as well as the defence of the 
 Pass of Thermopylae by the Greeks, or that 
 of the bridge at Rome by Horatius Codes ; 
 which, considerin*? the nefjlect into which 
 the history it is recorded in has fallen, I saw 
 no wav of effectin'? without a touch of the 
 pencil of poetry. 
 
 I accordingly commenced the work, in- 
 tending to confine my essay to the landing, 
 and the cruelty exercised bv the Danes 
 in that inroad, the subsequent Battle at 
 Loncarty, the victory gained by the in- 
 trepidity of the Hays, and the singular 
 manner in which, according to tradition, 
 they were rewarded for their valour. But.
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 on reflecting that poetry is never generally 
 interesting, unless it enter into the natural 
 connexions and passions of mankind, I ex- 
 tended my plan, making the Poem to open 
 some four years previous to the landing of 
 the Danes, and founding the epic depart- 
 ment of it on some of the events of that 
 eventful period. 
 
 After I had thus completed the piece, 
 without having the least surmise that any 
 person had ever thought of using the subject 
 in poetry before me, to my no small surprise, 
 I found I had been anticipated in the story 
 of the Hays, and that, too, by no less a 
 person than Shakespeare, who makes use of 
 it in his Battle of the Britons and Romans 
 in the fifth act of Cymbeline ; and further 
 discovered that Milton, at some period of 
 his life, had been engaged with the story. 
 
 The following is Musgrave's note on the 
 Battle of the Britons and Romans in Cym-
 
 I'llKlWC K. IX 
 
 belinc, as it appears in Bell's edition of 
 Shakespeare, where I made the above dis- 
 covery. 
 
 " The stopping of the army by three 
 persons, is an allusion to the story of the 
 Hays, as related by Hollinshed in his 
 ' History of Scotland,'" p. 155. 
 
 " ' There was neere to the place of battelle 
 a long lane fenced on the sides with ditches 
 and walles made of turfe, through which the 
 Scots which fled were beaten down by the 
 enemies in heapes. Here Haie, with his 
 Sons, supposing they might best stale the 
 flight, placed themselves overthwart the lane, 
 beat them back whom they met fleeing, and 
 spared neither friend nor fo, but down they 
 went, all such as came within their reach ; 
 wherewith divers bardie personages cried out 
 unto their fellows to return backe unto the 
 battelle.'" &c. 
 
 " It appears from Peck's ' New Memoirs,'
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 &c. article 88, that Milton intended to have 
 written a play upon this subject." 
 
 This much in regard to the historical 
 character of the following Poem, I think it 
 right here to state. The moral purposes of 
 it are, to shew the great blessings we enjoy, 
 who live under laws tried and perfected by 
 long experience, compared with the miserable 
 condition of our ancestors before civil com- 
 pacts were so adjusted as to obtain the due 
 control over society ; and, in thus setting 
 forth the great value of fixed and established 
 laws, show the madness and wickedness of 
 taking from such that reverence which is 
 their chief strength, by submitting them to 
 continual changes, as the interests of party, 
 or the dogmas of theorists, may dictate.
 
 THE 
 
 BATTLE OF LONCARTY 
 
 ^ ^oem* 
 
 INDUCTION. 
 
 Seek ye that spot on Albion's isle 
 Where foreign sword or foreign guile 
 
 Could never yet prevail ? 
 Where lived the race that, unsubdued, 
 Invasion's ruthless bands withstood. 
 And ne'er, till spent in ci\il feud. 
 
 Before the alien fell ? 
 
 Seek ye that spot to shed a tear 
 
 Upon the Patriot's gi*ave ? 
 Warms it your heart the song to hear. 
 
 That celebrates the brave ?
 
 INDUCTION. 
 
 Love ye, when patriot pride inspires 
 Your bosoms, from the immortal fires 
 Of the wild valour of your sires 
 
 The burning brand to steal ? 
 Look back to Scotland in her day. 
 And trace the banks of famous Tay : 
 There on a time eventful lay 
 
 The action of my tale. 
 
 They were achievements, when they passed. 
 That struck a wondering age aghast ; 
 And are, though ages since have rolled. 
 Still proudly to the stranger told. 
 Who seeks the scene where yet, between 
 The woods that skirt Kinnoul, are seen 
 Remains of names which seem to say 
 No time shall waste their fame away. 
 Till from oblivion the lay 
 
 Their patriot virtues shield ; 
 From story trite, and legend tame. 
 Till Poesy snatch th' immortal theme ; 
 And give the brave the fame of song 
 In strains that to their worth belong.
 
 INDUCTION. 
 
 And death k'ss ^lory yield 
 To tlie Tliree Sliields, in ]ieriVs day 
 Who stoutly stood their Country's stay 
 
 In Loncarty's dread field. 
 
 Such is, in lack of prouder name 
 To gild the song, the Muse's theme. 
 Bard of the hills ! whose strains of fire 
 Have rapt to heaven the Celtic lyre. 
 Pass, in your mists, her harp along. 
 And raise her strains and swell her song. 
 To all her subjects' claim !
 
 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 Now blushing o'er the youthful year 
 Rose morn ; and hollow on the ear 
 The din of tramphng steeds and men 
 Roll'd over Methven's wintry plain. 
 The Thane had rais'd his clan's array 
 The arts of battle to portray. 
 To try his son in war's alarms. 
 And train him to the shock of arms ; 
 For long renown'd the hne had been 
 Of great Rodardus, Methven's Thane. 
 His large and populous domains 
 Embrac'd the thousand straths and glens 
 Which to the sun their glades display 
 Between the floods of Earn and Tay ; 
 An hundred glens his tartans wore. 
 An hundred chiefs his banners bore.
 
 Canto I. IIATTLE OF LONCARTY. 5 
 
 And ne'er was stay'd in l)attle's hour 
 Tlic j^reat Abtliane * of Mt'thven's power. 
 
 Such Methven : and his pleasure lay. 
 When higher duty's claims gave way, 
 Tn martial feats to prove his trains : 
 And oft the neighbouring youthful thanes. 
 In arms and warlike ardour gay. 
 Assembled in the mimic fray. 
 Oft, too, by sire or brother's side. 
 
 The smiling fair adorn'd the field. 
 And secretly the weapons ply'd 
 
 That scorn the youthfid warrior's shield ; 
 And many a chieftain young and gay. 
 
 And gallant knight, and lady fair. 
 The splcncUd Tournament's display 
 
 To aid, or witness, now were there ; 
 While others still advanc'd in view. 
 And still the vast assemblage grew. 
 
 To speak of all who grac'd the plain. 
 Or only of each noble train 
 
 * Thane of Thanes.
 
 6 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 To give the blazonry and name. 
 Would load in vain the rising theme : 
 But one amongst th' assembling throng 
 Of noble knights and warriors young. 
 Alone and pensive on his way, 
 A moment claims the passing lay. 
 
 He, clad a hunter, tall and strong. 
 And shunning the promiscuous throng. 
 
 With solemn steps drew on : 
 His outward robe of roan-deer hide 
 A baldric richly studded tied, 
 A hunting spear hung at his side : 
 
 And thus the strange unknown 
 Of late had oft been seen to rove 
 Near Methven's towers through wood and grove. 
 Still seeming loath remark to move, 
 
 A wandering hunter lone. 
 But now an armed attendant, hoar 
 With age, behind him bending bore 
 The harnessing and panoply 
 That knighthood only may display ; 
 And led a steed which seem'd to bear 
 His hoofs as if he trod on air.
 
 Canto I. IIATTLE OF LONCARTV. 
 
 And thus unknown in rank or name. 
 
 Tilt' tournament to view 
 Me })ass'cl, and, as api)eared his aim, 
 
 No observation drew. 
 
 But now the chiefs their ])ennons spread, 
 The war-pipes pealed, the trumpets bray'd. 
 In adverse columns on the plains 
 Advanc'd the marshall'd warrior trains. 
 Shouts shook the <i:round, and through the sky 
 In clouds the blunted missiles fly, 
 The thick battalions furious close. 
 And all the seeming battle rose ; 
 While bright at every column's head 
 Some youthful chief his skill display'd, 
 The onset led, or form'd to meet 
 The charge, or order'd the retreat ; 
 Or in encounters shield to shield. 
 The single combats splendid arts revealed. 
 
 Thus was the field of war portray'd 
 By many a beauteous eye survey'd. 
 
 B
 
 8 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 But brightest of the sparkling train 
 Of noble dames who grac'd the plain 
 Was Methven's daughter, of all eyes 
 Her beauty made submissive prize ; 
 For Inva, grown fi'om childhood hight. 
 Soft as a flower, and fair as light, 
 Had now attain'd the charms that grace 
 
 The virgin's perfect years. 
 And all to her in lovehness 
 
 The time had no compeers. 
 
 But thus in youthful charms array'd. 
 Whilst she the marshall'd field survey'd. 
 No care her gentle bosom mov'd. 
 But for her sire, and brother lov'd. 
 Her noble brother now had seen 
 The woods a twentieth summer green. 
 And promis'd soon in arms to grace 
 The ancient honours of his race ; 
 Yet, though he well already knew 
 To poise the spear, and bend the yew,^ 
 His sire, in fond paternal care. 
 Still sought from war his youth to spare.
 
 Canto I. BATTLK OF L()N( \K1V. 
 
 15ut brave Gihvanlen's anlt'iU soul 
 Now spurn'd at hoyliood's tamo control, 
 And ii'low'd in fields of arms to claim 
 Tlie noble strife that leads to fame. 
 And heated now hy war's display. 
 Through all the thronging field's array 
 The fiercest he to battle brought. 
 And honour's dangerous combat sought 
 With many who in war were tried. 
 And had their country's foes defied ; 
 But all he thus to battle drew 
 Soon from his bold encounter flew. 
 
 Foil'd ever thus, at length, in thought 
 Depress'd, his noble sire he sought ; 
 And, of his youthful powers restrain'd. 
 Calmly determin'd, thus complain'd. 
 Sire ! must I thus for ever play 
 Inglorious in the mock array 
 Of war ? conduct th' embattl'd train 
 To sport, and shine in arms in vain ? 
 I have attain'd to manhood's pride. 
 And am in danger's field untried ;
 
 10 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 Give me to day to prove my claim 
 
 To my illustrious line and name. 
 
 Give me a knight with whom to wield 
 
 The spear for fame, or leave to quit the field. 
 
 With secret pride great Methven eyed 
 His rousing mind ; but thus replied : 
 How ! son, will none of all my train, 
 Unask'd, reheve your warhke vein ? 
 None prove, of choice ! your ardent steel ? 
 That you so bold to me appeal : 
 But as you thus invoke mine ear. 
 Your valour shall have proof, I sw^ear ! 
 Go, heralds, with the soimd of shield 
 And trimipets through the marshall'd field. 
 And, on my w^aiTanty and name. 
 Aloud that all may hear, proclaim 
 That Lord Gilwarden, to the fight 
 
 By knighthood's law^s controll'd. 
 Dares forth the proudest, bravest Knight 
 
 That this gay field may hold. 
 That on degi'ee of rank or name 
 
 None barr'd the lists shall be.
 
 Canto I. BATTLE OF LONCARTV. 1 1 
 
 Save whom the laws of amis disclaim ; 
 
 And any kniglit is free 
 With him, to mortal issue, here 
 To try the mast'ry of the spear. 
 
 He said : the trumpet's echoing clang 
 Through all the distance instant rang ; 
 And straight, like pausing thunder, o'er 
 The field was hush'd the battle's roar. 
 The warlike lines, array'd in haste. 
 The heralds with the challenge trac'd ; 
 The youthful champion rode in sight. 
 Preparing proudly for the fight ; 
 And wonder how th' event would close. 
 And panting expectation rose. 
 But beauteous Inva's softer breast 
 Was all by anxious cares possess'd. 
 Her brother's youth, and arm untried 
 She fear'd, and for his safety sigh'd ; 
 For kno\vn 'twas to the timid fair 
 That warriors fierce and proud were there. 
 
 But once the challenge through the vast 
 And silent field unanswered passed :
 
 12 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 The trumpet's deep'ning sound again 
 
 Travers'd the dark embattled plain ; 
 
 But save its blasts from hill to hill 
 
 Re-echoed, all as yet was still ; 
 
 No warrior mov'd, no plume or spear 
 
 Seem'd from the sable lines to peer ; 
 
 And thrice, at length, the herald train 
 
 Proclaim'd the challenge, but in vain. 
 
 No knight stood forth, though throngs were 
 
 there. 
 To cope in arms with Methven's heir. 
 
 Thus seem'd the sports, which gaily rose^ 
 To flag and draw towards a close : 
 Yet scarcely this observance drew. 
 When all were wak'd to wonder new ; 
 For quickly, southward, shouts from far 
 Were heard, and like a shooting star. 
 Towards Rodardus and his train, 
 A knight rode glittering through the plain, 
 Mail'd cap-a-pie, in harness bright. 
 And, by his arms, an English knight ;
 
 Canto I. BATTLE OF LONTAKTY. 1 .'J 
 
 For royal Edgar's ari^ciit cross 
 
 Shone on his azure shitld. 
 And on his lofty helmet's boss 
 
 The dragon stood revealed ; 
 The stranger he, the hunter lone. 
 Who join'd the field to all unknown. 
 
 An English knight, alone, to view 
 
 Amongst them, thus array'd 
 In arms, through all the clans a new 
 
 And strange sensation spread. 
 But he, unmov'd, the warlike band 
 
 Approach'd with homage fair. 
 And in the tongue of Saxon land 
 
 Thus spoke with dauntless air. 
 Brave knights of Scotland, glory's charms 
 Have drawn me to this land of arms ; 
 I come with ho})e to vantage here 
 My studies of the sword and spear. 
 Of late King Edgar's court I left. 
 My knighthood is that monarch's gift, 
 As my armorial signs proclaim. 
 Sir Edric, of the Spur, my name :
 
 14 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 And faithful to my high degree 
 
 In arms, I cannot passive see 
 
 Yon champion brave this marshall'd plain. 
 
 And ask the tilt of arms in vain. 
 
 If then the Scottish knights decline 
 
 His battle, be that honour mine ; 
 
 For it may not be said in knighthood's ear 
 
 That I the threat of arms unanswer'd hear. 
 
 He spoke : and thus in accents bold 
 
 While he the clans address'd. 
 In throngs him nearer to behold 
 
 Both chiefs and ladies pressed. 
 And though his helm, for battle closed. 
 The eye which sought his face opposed. 
 And but to few his speech was known ; 
 
 His graceful form and mien 
 High rev'rence for his presence won 
 
 From all the thronging scene. 
 But Inva, whose affections strong 
 Upon her youthful brother hung. 
 To join the general gaze declined. 
 For dark present'ments filled her mind ;
 
 Canto I. BATTLF, OF LONCARTY. 15 
 
 And, from the stranger coldly tiim'd, 
 She secretly his presence mourn'd. 
 Amongst the clans there also rose 
 Resolves the combat to oppose : 
 Shall Lord Gilwarden pledge his fame. 
 Cried some, at any stranger's claim ? 
 To such an yielding to descend 
 Might much against his rank offend ; 
 The fight must therefore be denied. 
 When Methven heard, and thus replied : 
 
 Chiefs ! for the high regard you bear 
 My house, accept my thanks sincere ; 
 But nice distinctions here to claim 
 May place in risk our comitry's fame. 
 Shall strangers bear the tale away 
 To England's court, and, taunting, say — 
 The Scottish chieftain's rank defends 
 His fame ? — he only fights his friends ! — 
 If, then, we, as the umpires here, 
 A due regard to honour bear. 
 We shall not fi'om the proffer'd fight 
 Bar any present Christian knight ;
 
 16 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 And that our faith the stranger holds 
 
 The symbol of his shield unfolds 
 
 That knighthood, and its laws, he knows. 
 
 His military girdle shews : 
 
 Yet with my son it rests, to choose 
 
 His battle, or his claims refuse : 
 
 And whether he '11 resign the day. 
 
 Or fight the stranger, let him say. 
 
 Thus spoke the Thane ; when loudly cried 
 Gilwarden ; Words in me were pride ; 
 But I have not assum'd the field 
 Its honors thus, untried, to yield ; 
 And, than the English champion, none 
 I'd rather meet ; brave knight, come on ; 
 He cried, and took a wide career. 
 His target brac'd, and fixed his spear ; 
 While also fitting for the fight 
 Rode proudly forth the stranger knight. 
 
 And now oppos'd in bright display. 
 All eyes were on them drawn ;
 
 Canto I. BATTF-i: Ol' LONCARTV. 17 
 
 And speedily, fi'oni distant play 
 
 The combat dread began ; 
 When man to man, and horse to horse. 
 Moving in all their pride and force, 
 Inspir'd, alternate' with deliglit 
 And terror, all who viewed the fight. 
 And 'mid surrounding hopes and fears. 
 
 Thus, long with skill profound 
 They fought ; and when their broken spears 
 
 In pieces strew'd the ground. 
 With equal ardour, sword to sword. 
 The furious battle they restor'd. 
 
 But long from skill, 'twas not conceal'd 
 Who had the mastery of the field ; 
 For oft though Lord Gil warden gave 
 High proof of art, and courage brave, 
 'Twas marked that still the stranger knight 
 Controll'd his action and his miirht ; 
 And ever firm, serene, and gay, 
 Seem'd studious rather to display 
 The combat's arts, than of his foe 
 To seek the \ antage or overthrow ;
 
 18 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 Yet in the battle's every part 
 Gave such display of grace and art. 
 As few the like had e'er beheld. 
 And none had ever seen excell'd. 
 
 Thus many, all the fight throughout, 
 Observ'd the stranger knight with doubt. 
 And fear'd that for some fatal end 
 His powers surpassing were restrain'd ; 
 For still he urg'd the fight, though all 
 Observ'd Gilwarden's ardour fall : 
 And even his sire, in secret thought 
 With fear for the event was fraught : 
 But honor's institutes severe 
 Forbade even him to interfere. 
 
 And now his vantage to embrace 
 The stranger more appear'd to press : 
 His strokes fell faster, louder rung. 
 And o'er his bending foe he hung. 
 Strong as the blast that on the lea 
 Rocks ev'ry way the lonely tree. 
 Yet brave Gilwarden still maintain'd 
 The battle ; but at length constrain'd
 
 Canto I. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 10 
 
 To droop, the stranger pressed anew. 
 
 And from his grasp his weapon threw ; 
 
 Leaving him to a thrust exposed. 
 
 That launched would have his scene of glory 
 
 clos'd : 
 But, that with skilful movement done. 
 The stranger cast to earth his own. 
 His shield upon his thigh rechned. 
 And modestly the further fight resign'd. 
 
 The stranger's presence in their plains 
 At first had mov'd the Scottish trains. 
 But their amazement doubly grew 
 His gallantry in arms to view : 
 And though he, all unknown, had won 
 The victory from their chieftain's son. 
 So much do noble acts dehght 
 And ravish the beholders' sight. 
 That instantly to his applause 
 A general shout from all arose. 
 
 The battle thus both nobly won 
 And lost, the Thane embrac'd his son
 
 20 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 With rapture not to be repress'd. 
 And then the stranger thus address'd. 
 Brave knight, my son a battle lost 
 To thee, with many gain'd may boast : 
 With thee, he, in his course to fame. 
 May long confess a second name ; 
 For thou, whate'er thy hne or land. 
 Art stamp'd renown by Nature's hand. 
 
 The chieftain ceas'd : and to reply 
 The stranger seem'd address'd ; 
 
 When suddenly on every eye 
 A brighter object press'd. 
 The beauteous Inva, who, subdu'd 
 By fear, the fight had anxious view'd. 
 Now all from her alarm reliev'd. 
 For having wrong'd the stranger, grieved : 
 And in her pleasure's sudden glow 
 Bent him some special grace to show. 
 
 With looks benign the lovely maid 
 Passing the warriors through. 
 
 Her gentle steed by pages led. 
 Near to the hero drew ;
 
 Canto I. IJATTLE OF LONCARTY. 21 
 
 And pulling from her arm, as fair 
 As snow, a chain of jewels rare ; 
 Scarce venturing to advance so high 
 As his bar'd helm her timid eye ; 
 From me, said she, renown'd sir knight, 
 
 This trifle deign to wear. 
 In humble token of a weight 
 
 Of gratitude sincere 
 That you have in a sister mov'd 
 By having spar'd a brother lov'd : 
 And wait on you may honour high. 
 And ev'ry sweet affection's joy. 
 
 Through glory's bright career ! 
 And when your earthly course shall end. 
 Through which may Fate from ills defend. 
 May Heaven its kindest angels send 
 To meet you at your bier ! 
 
 The gallant stranger, bencUng low 
 In homage o'er his saddle-bow, 
 Receiv'd the chain, his arm uncas'd. 
 And plac'd it on his manly wrist.
 
 22 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto I. 
 
 While through his frame a tremor spread. 
 As all his lighter mail display'd ; 
 Then mildly answer'd : Lady fair. 
 Your honour'd favour thus I wear ; 
 It shall this arm, while spar'd by Fate, 
 To acts of greatness consecrate. 
 And to me a remembrance serve 
 This high distinction to deserve. 
 When, with impressive grace adorn'd. 
 Her steed the beauteous Inva turn'd. 
 And towards Methven halls withdrew. 
 Soon in the woodlands lost to view. 
 While, with her eager to conspire 
 In courtesy, resum'd her sire. 
 
 Thus gallant knight, we would award 
 To your deserts our best regard : 
 But now it is the day's dechne. 
 And we for rest the field resign : 
 You to our castle will repair. 
 We trust, the evening feast to share : 
 Resign'd to ease, and kindly deign 
 With us a season to remain ;
 
 Canto I. BATTLE of loncartv. 23 
 
 All honour shall your stay abide. 
 When thus the stranger grave replied. 
 
 For such distinction, chief renown'd, 
 Accept my gratitude profound ; 
 But me, your hospitable joys 
 To share, a knightly vow denies ; 
 To arms consign'd, my trade the sword, 
 I fare as fields and woods afford ; 
 And ere I rest or make my home 
 In courtly hall, or lordly dome. 
 Yet many moons their light must waste. 
 Now to the Scottish court I haste. 
 There further, in the presence high. 
 My humble gifts in arms to try. 
 
 Brave knight, with aspect chang'd, rephed 
 The chief, our court for martial pride 
 Renown'd, is now, we all repine. 
 No scene for high pursuits like thine. 
 Time is not long, since Scotland's court 
 Was knightly strangers' fit resort ; 
 But there rebellion forth has pour'd 
 Her dragons with the civil sword, 
 
 c
 
 24 BATTLE OF LONG ARTY. Canto I. 
 
 And treason rear'd its javelin dread 
 Against the public parent's head. 
 And now misrule its halls pervade, 
 Fall'n is its fame, its greatness fled. 
 Alas ! I am in fault to name 
 In stranger's ear my country's shame. 
 
 When thus the knight. In journeying here. 
 Strange rumours met, indeed, my ear ; 
 And I the boon would highly hold 
 If now I fully might be told 
 What are, and of what causes born. 
 The ills you thus so deeply mourn : 
 To those who arms profess, belongs 
 To know of states the fame and wrongs ; 
 And I, in travelHng nations o'er. 
 Their histories love in mind to store. 
 
 To which the chief: — Brave knight, we fear 
 The tale you ask will wound your ear ; 
 But yielding to your fair request. 
 Here on the heath a time we'll rest. 
 And you of those events of wo 
 A further brief detail shall know.
 
 Canto I. B\TTl,r of i.ont artv. 25 
 
 He called his hard ; who straight appcar'd, 
 Rev'rcnd with hoary hair and heard. 
 But eyes that fire of soul express'd : 
 When thus the chieftain him address'd. 
 
 Relate, O bard of Oran-Morn ! 
 The griefs which late have Scotland torn. 
 Speak forth the fates to which we owe 
 Our past, and fears of future wo ; 
 The theme, to us, is fraught with pain, 
 But let not sorrow' mar the strain ; 
 The noble stranger seeks to hear, 
 Speak with expression worthy of his ear. 
 
 END OF CANTO FIRST.
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONG ARTY. 27 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 The minstrel heard; with eyes of fire 
 He threw his fingers o'er his lyre ; 
 Upon a bank with heather crowned 
 He stood, the chiefs reclin'd around ; 
 When wildly rais'd to heaven the man 
 Of song his eyes, and thus began : 
 
 Where are the great, the mighty gone ? 
 Prepare the tide of grief to pour — 
 
 The pride and hope of Albyn's throne,* 
 The sons of Malcolm, are no more. 
 'Reav'd of their sire ere yet they knew 
 Their loss, at court the princes grew, 
 
 * Albyn, the name anciently given by the Scots to their 
 country. 
 
 D
 
 28 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 And soon of King Indolphus won 
 Like love with Culenus his son ; 
 And as in studies, hopes, and years. 
 The three young princes thus were peers. 
 So joined their loves ; and with their youth 
 Their friendship grew in strength and truth. 
 But ere they thus had fully grown 
 To years mature, of Alhyn's throne 
 The triple hope, fierce Cimbria pour'd * 
 Upon our shores her bands abhorr'd. 
 And King Indolphus, prompt to save 
 His country, found a timeless grave. 
 
 He fallen ; Prince Duphus, Malcolm's son 
 First born, succeeded to the throne ; 
 And scarce was power to him assigned. 
 When, gratefully, he bent his mind 
 To yield to King Indolphus' son ; 
 Like grace his sire to him had shewn ; 
 And Culen held through all the land. 
 Next to himself, the chief command. 
 
 * Cimbria, now Denmark.
 
 Canto ]1. BATTLE OF LONCAllTV. 29 
 
 King Diiphus' * brotlier, Kenneth, held 
 His equal love ; and, pleas'd, beheld 
 Him thus his utmost grace extend 
 Towards their childhood's mutual friend ; 
 But rapt in deep research of mind 
 Himself the cares of power declin'd. 
 For Kenneth had been early drawn 
 The kingdom's institutes to scan ; 
 And searching them with reverend awe 
 He in them certain errors saw. 
 Which, if he ere to power attain'd. 
 He vow'd to labour to amend : 
 And that he might his mind supply 
 With knowledge meet for aims so high. 
 Was bent to foreign lands to stray 
 To learn their arts of sovereign sway. 
 
 The king, in fond fraternal love, 
 His brother's purpose strove to move, 
 
 * King Duphus. I have here ventured on poetical licence 
 so far as to alter this king's name, which, in the history, is spelt 
 Duffus, to Duphus, as, in my opinion, sounding more accordant 
 to poetry.
 
 30 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 But nought could his resolves subdue ; 
 And guis'd an humble knight, with two 
 Attendants which the kingdom chose. 
 That more might not his rank disclose. 
 He on his travels pass'd away. 
 The search of wisdom to essay. 
 And now, alas ! the glorious sun 
 Five times his annual course has run. 
 Since Kenneth, full of promise fair. 
 Through foreign dangers went to fare ; 
 While Albyn hears of him no more. 
 And we, as lost, the prince deplore. 
 Alas ! had he return'd and brought 
 The wiser laws for which he sought. 
 He from our country might have borne 
 The ills that lately it have torn. 
 And staid our still portentous fears. 
 Thus sung the bard with bursting tears. 
 For he had Kenneth known and loved. 
 And, save the stranger, all were mov'd. 
 
 Thus, rapt in patriot grief, his song 
 The minstrel staid ; but paus'd not long,
 
 Canto II. BATTLi: or lonxartY. 31 
 
 When, with returning fire imbued. 
 His rushing tlieme lie thus renewed : 
 
 But now at court while state affairs 
 Engaged King Duphus' virtuous cares. 
 By sudden posts he knowledge gain'd 
 That rapines dread th' i^ibudae stain'd : 
 For Rognwald, from Pomona's shore. 
 Appalling as the whirlpools roar. 
 Had pass'd the sea in dark array. 
 And made the Western Isles his prey. 
 And Rognwald, highly through the north 
 Allied, had in his train led forth 
 The sons of many kindreds great. 
 Who, tired of order in the state. 
 And heated by their passions wild. 
 For strife and lawless outrage boiled ; 
 And who in bands from isle to isle 
 Now roam'd exacting mail or spoil. 
 And, not their fury thus assuag'd. 
 In every nameless violence raged. 
 
 The king, incens'd that such a stain 
 Should blot the dawning of his reign.
 
 32 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. CantO II. 
 
 Commanded that there straight be led 
 Meet force to quell the daring raid ; 
 And Culen, eager to sustain 
 His king and friend's insulted reign. 
 Soon with a band resistless sail'd 
 And everywhere the ravage quell'd ; 
 When of the robbers low and vile 
 He many sent into exile : 
 But those who had the ravage led 
 For judgment more severe he staid. 
 And held them prisoners to await 
 The king's decision on their fate. 
 
 And now to Scoon the joyous fame 
 Of Culen's brave achievement came : 
 But when the king, already wroth. 
 Had more of the rebelhon's growth 
 Inquired, and found that some of birth 
 And rank, the highest in the north. 
 Were 'mongst its chiefs and leaders nam'd. 
 His anger into fury flam'd. 
 Is this ! cried he, the law's return 
 From those its institutes adorn
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 33 
 
 With honour, power, and liigh degree ; 
 With Uuids and holds ? it shall not be ! 
 For heaven, and for the laws, I wear 
 This kingdom's sword ; and I will bear 
 Its equal edge on high and mean ! 
 Be armed tomorrow ! every thane. 
 For we with you will then set forth 
 To meet those traitors in the north : 
 For there, where they are widely known, 
 T' atone their wrongs to justice done 
 They more conspicuously will fall 
 Its victims, as they surely shall ! 
 
 Thus spoke the king : but to dissuade 
 Him from his course his lords essayed ; 
 Let not the king, they joined in prayer. 
 Proceed on such a dangerous care ; 
 The kingdom's health in him repos'd 
 111 brooks to be in feuds exposed : 
 The kindreds of the numerous band 
 AVhich Culen has exil'd the land. 
 Already of injustice cry. 
 And mutterings of resentment try ;
 
 34 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. CaNTO II. 
 
 And if the friends and families great 
 Of those whose crimes a darker fate 
 Demand, hke feud should entertain, 
 Commotions dread the north may stain. 
 Here, then, in Scoon's fair wood embrac'd 
 We pray the king will calmly rest ; 
 While others shall alike pursue 
 To their deserts the lawless crew. 
 
 Thus to dissuade the king they tried : 
 When he, in duty bold, replied : 
 My faithful nobles deeply move 
 Me by their loyal care and love ; 
 But, in the north, if traitors threat 
 To plunge in fratricide the state. 
 My presence shall their rage allay. 
 And dark revolt in gendering stay : 
 Heaven, who the sovereign office lends 
 To kings, the faithful king defends ; 
 In heaven, and in my people, trust 
 I fearless ; to the north I must ! 
 I, too, in Moray's thane, the tried 
 And trusty Donald, can confide ;
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. .'35 
 
 His worth was voucli'd in Buchan's plains 
 With King Indolphus, 'gainst the Danes, 
 And on his loyaUy and faith 
 Has never fallen suspicion's breath : 
 And should the feuds you fear prevail. 
 We shall with him, in high Dunphail, 
 Secure as well a strong recess 
 As aids rebellion to repress. 
 
 The faithful lords with sadness hear 
 Their sovereign, but replies forbear. 
 Heralds to Culen straight proceed 
 With charge that he to jNIoray lead 
 His captives, and in Calder towers 
 Them lodge and guard with all his powers, 
 ^\'hen to repose the court withdrew. 
 But with the king, to duty true. 
 Ere morn obscur'd the western star. 
 From Scoon departed for Braemar ; 
 And woods and mighty summits cross'd. 
 Two days unhalting, nor repos'd 
 Till Cluanaida's mountain towers 
 The third invites their wearied powers
 
 36 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 On Albyn's highest peaks to rest. 
 In her primeval woods embrac'd. 
 
 At morn, with giant Gorm in view. 
 High Loch-na-gar, and Binn-muich-dhu, 
 The fathers of the topaz fair 
 And emerald, clothed sublime in air. 
 The king and court pursu'd their way 
 Through high Braemoray, on Strathspey. 
 But as the rising morning spread 
 More copious light through glen and glade. 
 Near their descending route, between 
 The woods, the glance of arms was seen. 
 And as the royal train a strath 
 Were entering, forward in their path 
 Mac-Cormac, of the silver beard, 
 A loyal mountain-chief, appear'd. 
 
 His warders right and left he drew ; 
 And, when the king advanced in view 
 With bended knee he homage paid. 
 And with submissive reverence said : 
 God give King Duphus long to reign ; 
 For lands which here to me pertain
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 37 
 
 I come to pay the fealty due 
 By subject to tlie sovereign true. 
 And further, on a hege-man's faith, 
 I come to warn the king that skaith 
 May follow, if he persevere 
 Thus slackly arm'd in progi'ess here ; 
 For some in Moray, others forth 
 From Caithness, Ross, and all the north. 
 Of kin to those who have rebell'd. 
 Have here their nightly plottings held. 
 And claim their banish'd friends restor'd. 
 Or threaten some revenge abhorr'd. 
 
 The king with eager eye and ear 
 Observ'd the trusty mountaineer ; 
 And while his mind with anger blaz'd. 
 Round on his courtiers he gaz'd. 
 And cried : My thanes ! this goes to shew 
 Your tidings from the north were true. 
 But, yearly, Moray's air, of late. 
 Has gendered flies to taint the state ; 
 Yet, haply, now the time avails 
 To crush the hornets in their cells.
 
 38 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 To Forres castle, now possess'd 
 
 By trusty Donald, let us haste. 
 
 And from his loyal truth and love 
 
 Learn fully how those treasons move. 
 
 Which said, the court pursu'd their way. 
 
 And Forres reach'd at fall of day. 
 
 Received, in absence of the thane. 
 
 By Donald's lady and her train. 
 
 With smiles and blandishments, address'd 
 
 To all, but pour'd upon her royal guest. 
 
 But here the minstrel seem'd to rouse 
 To sudden rage ; he smote his brows 
 As if his soul were rapt away 
 To some dread climax in his lay ; 
 Then sunk he seem'd in anguish strong. 
 His tuneful hand as palsied hung. 
 And, overpower'd he seem'd constrain'd 
 His theme, unfinish'd, there to end. 
 But great Rodardus, seated near, 
 Reprov'd his fault and gave him cheer ; 
 The stranger, also, watchful who 
 Had mark'd his tale, him to pursue
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 39 
 
 It, kind besought ; when thus by strong 
 Entreaties won, tlie bard resuni'd his song. 
 
 The lady thus by show of love 
 To gain the youthful monarch strove ; 
 By ceaseless flatteries him caress'd. 
 To all his mind her arts address'd. 
 But loyalty had not the dame 
 Inspir'd ; she had a deeper aim : 
 The leaders in th' ^Ebudean fray. 
 To justice now upon their way. 
 Were all to her in blood allied ; 
 And Lady Githa's lineal pride 
 Rul'd paramount o'er all the kind 
 Affections wont to w^oman's mind ; 
 Hence strove she with her love's excess 
 The youthful monarch to impress. 
 In hope that for the rebel train 
 She thus would royal pardon gain. 
 
 Meanwhile the thane, of duty's calls 
 Absolved, return'd to Forres' halls. 
 And met the king with liomage due ; 
 But Donald's loyalty was true.
 
 40 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 Though he was also proud, and drawn 
 By strong devotion to his clan. 
 
 But Culen now, dispensing dread 
 Through all the north, arriv'd, and laid 
 In Calder towers his captive train 
 The law's denouncements to sustain ; 
 And quickly Lady Githa's ear 
 The tidings reached ; when, wrung with fear 
 And rage, she, for them to invoke 
 Forgiveness, thus her husband spoke.* 
 
 Your high deserts my lord belov'd. 
 The king's regards have justly mov'd ; 
 But see, the flower of both our lines 
 In Calder under sentence pines ! 
 
 * The lady here introduced is one of the fierce female cha- 
 racters of which Scotland, in earlier times, produced so many 
 instances ; more, indeed, is said in history of her fury and 
 violence than is said of Lady Macbeth ; and it is evident that 
 from the sequel of this story Shakespeare drew many of the 
 incidents relating to his fall of King Duncan, in the tragedy of 
 Macbeth.
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 41 
 
 Go to the king, and with him try 
 Your interest that they may not die ; 
 For sm'e our prayers if now we use. 
 To pardon them he cannot choose. 
 When Donald, for the rebel train. 
 Though true himself, who suffer'd pain. 
 Applauded and embrac'd the thought. 
 And, confident, the monarch sought ; 
 But quickly in dismay return'd. 
 And said, the king, enrag'd, had spurn'd 
 His suit, and that, remed'less, all 
 Their friends must on the morrow fall. 
 
 The lady scarce her fury staid. 
 But mark'd his frowns, and, scoffing said : 
 So ! thus you are to be repaid 
 The blood you for the state have shed ? 
 Your truth rewarded, in your name 
 And kindred given to deaths of shame ? 
 But tales shall be tomorrow told 
 Of more than Calder's dungeons hold ! 
 For me ! I will my kind abjure. 
 And in some cave myself immure.
 
 42 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 No more to meet the galling eye 
 Of man, if thus my kinsmen die ! 
 Off! off ye gauds! be mine no more! 
 And from her neck her robes she tore, 
 Her gems and jewels scattered round. 
 And frantic sunk upon the ground 
 Like maniac wild, with streaming hair. 
 And gushing tears, she feign'd despair. 
 
 Her frantic rage to terror mov'd 
 The thane, for her he fondly loved ; 
 And bending o'er her. Stay ! he cried. 
 Stay ! wife, beloved, your sorrow's tide ; 
 There is no death I would not brave 
 Our kindred from their doom to save. 
 But hosts in arms their prisons bay. 
 And what can we their fates to stay ? 
 
 What ! what can we ? she furious cried. 
 Must I for you device provide ? 
 O ! Donald, Donald ! in yon towers 
 There lies no noble friend of ours 
 But would for you, if like him placed. 
 Lay cities, towns, and districts waste.
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTV. 43 
 
 And save you ! if to do 't the road 
 Lay through a rushing sea of hlood ! 
 But you for kings with fealty pine, 
 Like sickly maid, while from your line. 
 The fountain of your blood ! your clan ! 
 Your love, a traitor ! is withdrawn. 
 
 What ? this from thee ! with fury cried 
 The chief; when she, hke fierce, replied : 
 Aye ! slay me, thane ! the act would pair 
 Most nobly with your other care 
 For that high line, renown'd and long. 
 Of nobles whence I hapless sprung ; 
 And, saying, shed again a tide 
 Of tears : when Donald, softening, cried — 
 No more, sweet love, no more upbraid ! 
 But say, hast thou device will aid 
 Our friends ? if so, though hell should cry. 
 Desist ! I'll their deliverance try. 
 
 Ha ! wilt thou ? cried the dame, and strove 
 To mould her rage to looks of love, 
 
 E
 
 44 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 If SO ! through Culen's bands to-night 
 Our way to Calder we shall fight, 
 And, m our course, though thick the road 
 Be guarded, shed but little blood. 
 I have two trusty aids in sight : 
 We give the court a feast to-night ; 
 And after, when at midnight deep 
 All eyes are sealed by leaden sleep, 
 If thou wilt follow, as the way 
 I'll point, our kindred's fates we'll stay ; 
 For of the state, when lopp'd the head. 
 The body's acts, perforce, are staid ; 
 And Culen, who the next must reign, 
 A woman's suit will ever gain. 
 But be the banquet now my care. 
 While you shall to the king repair. 
 And under an impervious smile 
 Suspicion's eagle eye beguile. 
 Till season meet to action call, 
 When thou shalt know my project all. 
 Which said, herself she re-adorn'd. 
 And to the king and lords return'd
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 45 
 
 The thane, with subtle smiles and ease. 
 And more than wont intent to please. 
 
 But evening soon the world o'ercast ; 
 The welcome season of repast 
 Came on ; the banquet rose benign ; 
 The host and hostess urged the wine ; 
 And high amidst the noble guests 
 The youthful monarch joyous feasts. 
 While mirthful converse entertains 
 Alternate with the minstrel's strains ; 
 Till, lulling sense with Lethean weight. 
 Arose the central cope of night; 
 When all, by wine or sleep oppress'd. 
 Or pass'd, or seem'd to pass, to rest : 
 And over Forres' towers again 
 Old silence re-assumed its reign ; 
 Till, painting heaven and earth anew. 
 The east its golden curtains drew. 
 
 
 
 But of its radiance long the morn, 
 Warring with angry clouds, was shorn ; 
 And slow, from their abridg'd repose. 
 And late, the easy courtiers rose.
 
 46 BATTLE OF LONCAllTY. Canto II. 
 
 But after long they all had met. 
 As wont, upon the king to wait ; 
 ,He came not to the presence hall. 
 Nor had th' attendants heard his call : 
 And when the lords, by duty press'd. 
 Sent to invite him from his rest. 
 The messengers return'd and told 
 The king was risen, his couch was cold. 
 The grooms surcharg'd with wine, and none 
 Knew when he rose, or where he might be gone. 
 
 The monarch's absence, undefin'd, 
 Mov'd variously each courtier's mind ; 
 Some stood surmising, some, aghast, 
 T' explore the royal chamber pass'd ; 
 And Donald first in every place 
 Seem'd most the mystery bent to trace ; 
 At length, when further search seem'd vain. 
 Two warders of the castle-train 
 Sought audience of the court, and said — 
 That scarce the banquet's mirth had stay'd. 
 When to their ward, the southern gate. 
 The king, as if with wine elate,
 
 Canto II. KATTLE OF LONC.ARTY. 47 
 
 Advaiic'd, and said he pass'd to Scoon, 
 And that his train would follow soon ; 
 And this they had not earlier shewn 
 As judging it hy all was known. 
 
 This strange report all minds engag'd ; 
 But Donald, 'gainst his guards enrag'd 
 For having forth to danger pass'd 
 The king, his sense by wine o'ercast. 
 Began them fiercely to upbraid. 
 And scarce from slayinoj them was stav'd. 
 But now, from first alarm and pain 
 At length arous'd, the courtier train 
 Cried, one and all, to horse ! to horse ! 
 And leavino- Forres with a force 
 From Culen claim'd, they east, and west, 
 And south, to Scoon the kingdom trac'd. 
 But far as search they could extend, 
 No tidings of the king they gain'd. 
 
 Fill'd now with sorrow and dismay. 
 The lords of court no more delay ; 
 But, that the laws might be sustain'd. 
 To all the states thev heralds send :
 
 48 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 And many nobles, to debate 
 
 The strange dilemma, quickly met : 
 
 And Culen, leaving all his powers 
 
 To guard his charge in Calder's towers. 
 
 Arrived, to act, in things extreme. 
 
 As regent, in King Duphus' name ; 
 
 Till where concealed, or if withdrawn 
 
 He was to foreign lands, by time was shewn. 
 
 Meanwhile from Donald posts came on 
 To learn what of the king was known ; 
 With notice that he had, with pain. 
 All Moray search'd for him in vain ; 
 And if he yet had not appear'd 
 At Scoon, that he, with sorrow, fear'd 
 That on the night when the supine 
 And sluggish guards he pass'd, in wine. 
 He had, in darkness, miss'd his way. 
 And sunk in the impetuous Spey. 
 That he the kingdom's loss condol'd. 
 But trusted grief would be controll'd 
 In that Prince Culen had attain'd 
 The years when sovereigns wisely reign'd ;
 
 Canto If. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 49 
 
 That Moray's ferments when allay'd, 
 He would hiniseli' their counsels aid, 
 And strive the public griefs co heal 
 As best they might for Albyn's weal. 
 
 The States to Donald's message fair 
 With gloomy silence lent an ear ; 
 And, though the looks of some express'd 
 That doubtings dark their minds possess'd. 
 The thane had of the kingdom gain'd 
 Such high regard, and still rctain'd. 
 That those whose minds suspicions wrung 
 Yet paus'd to give their thoughts a tongue. 
 And, as King Duphus might have met. 
 Indeed, in lake or stream his fate. 
 And hope, though deeply mix'd with fear, 
 Remain'd he yet might reappear ; 
 The States the regency confirm'd 
 On Culen ; and, his council form'd. 
 Too easy to their lands withdrew. 
 To wait events that might ensue. 
 
 But sovereign Heaven, which from on high 
 Looks down with all-observing eye.
 
 50 BATTLE OF LONG ARTY. Caxto II. 
 
 And, when a good king basely falls, 
 For dreadful retribution calls ; 
 Now, spreading terror and alarm. 
 O'er Albyn stretch'd its venging arm : 
 Strange fires were in the heavens array'd. 
 Darkness the sun and moon o'erspread, 
 Terrific thunders ceaseless roll'd. 
 Earth shook, and winds infernal howl'd ; 
 And thus, a time, with scarce the day 
 From night distinguish'd, pass'd away.* 
 
 At length to Culen it was given 
 To know the awful voice of heaven. 
 Commanding him to rouse, and straight 
 Explore the king's mysterious fate ; 
 When all the love and fi'iendship kind 
 By Duphus shewn him rush'd to mind. 
 And fill'd his soul, at the belief 
 That he had foully fallen, with rage and grief. 
 When secretly to join his band. 
 By nightly marches, Moray land 
 
 * The history says, " for six whole months neither sun nor 
 moon were seen in the heavens."
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 51 
 
 He reach'cl, and, yet ere Donald knew. 
 As deem'd the prince, round Forres drew. 
 But secret march as he liad made, 
 Amaz'd, he found tlie tliane had fled 
 On board an alien ship that lay 
 For casual traffic in the bay ; 
 When of his guilt, conjecture, light 
 Before, attain'd o'erwhehiiing height. 
 
 But thus suspicion highly rais'd. 
 The castle straight the regent seiz'd ; 
 And laid the warders fast in hold 
 Who of the king's departure told. 
 The wife of Donald next he sought ; 
 And forth in frowning pride was brought 
 The awful dame, to her unknown. 
 That, pleading guilt, her lord had flown. 
 But, 'mid the people shouting scorn. 
 She, with the guards, to test was borne ; 
 When, at the dreadful rack's display, 
 Seiz'd mutually with wild dismay. 
 And by the dread of torture press'd. 
 They, each accusing each, confess'd
 
 52 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 That, on the banquet night, when lain 
 To his repose, the king was slain ; 
 That he by Donald's weapons bled. 
 Urged by his wife, and was convey'd 
 For burial to a hidden ground 
 Where never might his corse be found. 
 
 The heinous treason thus confess'd, 
 The monarch's mangled form was trac'd ;* 
 And swath'd with many a loyal tear, 
 For meet and holy sepulchre. 
 And those obsequies due perform'd. 
 The parricides were all inform'd 
 That they their treason must atone 
 By death, before the setting sun. 
 Which sentence scarce was on them pass'd 
 When rose a storm, and, by the blast. 
 
 * The king's body was found buried under a little bridge in 
 a by-place near the abbey of Kinloss, the green turf being laid 
 over it, so that there might be no marks of the ground having 
 been dug up.
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 53 
 
 The ship in whicli the thane had flown 
 From justice, hack to hind was tlirown ; * 
 And Donald, with his fellows, met 
 His awful crime's demanded fate ; 
 As did, on the succeeding day. 
 The outlaws who in Calder lay. 
 
 Thus fell, exclaim'd the hard, with tears. 
 King Duphus in his blooming years ; 
 And thus, in him, and Kenneth lost 
 In foreign lands, from us has pass'd 
 A line of kings whose patriot sway 
 Was virtue's shield and guilt's dismay : 
 And how their loss we shall bewail 
 Already dark forebodings tell ; 
 For Culen, who, for vigour shewn 
 In Moray's treasons, gain'd the throne. 
 And now is king, alas ! betrays 
 The promise of his earlier days ; 
 Of vice and folly sinks the prey. 
 And stains the grace of kingly sway. 
 
 * This incident is also correct to historical authority.
 
 54 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 O ! that he may betimes advise 
 And guide his reign by counsel wise ; 
 His youth with due discretion bear. 
 And change to joy the kingdom's fear : 
 When, ending thus his solemn lay, 
 The minstrel sadly stalk'd away. 
 
 Nor did the ancient bard bemoan 
 The virtuous Duphus' fall alone ; 
 At its relation every chief 
 Express'd by tears or sighs his grief. 
 Nor did the stranger knight, who, bent 
 Upon his shield, had earnest lent 
 To all the theme attentive ear. 
 Seem with a slight regard to hear ; 
 Nay, melted by the tragic lay, 
 Or by sweet pity borne away. 
 He, when King Duphus' fate was told, 
 Seem'd mov'd by sorrow uncontroll'd ; 
 The sob of grief, with sudden start. 
 That bursts from the unwilling heart. 
 By no endeavour to be stayed. 
 Oft from his heaving bosom fled ;
 
 Canto II. BATTLE OF LONCAKTV. 55 
 
 Even so, that oft he seem'tl to share 
 A deeper grief than any there. 
 But when tlie bard a time liad ceas'd, 
 He calmly Methven thus address'd. 
 
 Brave chieftain ! for your minstrel's lays 
 You have my thanks, and he my praise ; 
 Never a theme my hearing met 
 Has mov'd me like King Duphus' fate. 
 Alas ! how little cause we find 
 To envy those who rule mankind. 
 But less it grieves me not to hear 
 You his successor view with fear : 
 Errs, then. King Culen in his reign ? 
 When, gravely, thus replied the thane. 
 
 Brave knight. King Culen, since the throne 
 He held, has often wisely done ; 
 But lately, he the prudence grave 
 Has lack'd, which seems the state to crave. 
 And anarchy, with hghted brand. 
 Again broods o'er our fated land ; 
 Yet he, we trust, will soon again 
 Take counsel and with vigour reign.
 
 56 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto II. 
 
 But now the star of vespers threw 
 Its flame through ether's deep'ning blue ; 
 And Methven and his chiefs, address'd 
 To seek the castle halls for rest. 
 Again, with many court'sies fair. 
 The stranger press'd their feast to share ; 
 But he, as at the first, by kind 
 Replies their friendly suit declin'd ; 
 And, with his squire, though in degree 
 More than a menial squire seem'd he. 
 Turning towards the open way 
 That east to Scoon and Bertha lay, 
 Departed, each his eager steed 
 Impelling to its utmost speed ; 
 And Methven and his chiefs were all 
 Soon feasting gleeful in his lordly hall. 
 
 END OF CANTO II.
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 57 
 
 CANTO 111. 
 
 Sweet are of youtli the smiling hours 
 
 "When glows the heart with new-born powers. 
 
 And fancy opes her golden bowers 
 
 To hope's pellucid ray ; 
 Ere yet the fretful passions scowl. 
 Or crosses sear the generous soul. 
 Or injuries, wrought by vices foul, 
 
 Oercast its sunny day. 
 And thus, in Methven's lordly towers. 
 Now beauteous Inva pass'd her hours. 
 In all the pleasing joys that soothe 
 The smiling spring of duteous youth ; 
 And, all by destiny caress'd, 
 Seem'd born to bless and to be bless'd. 
 Though yet the youthful fair had been 
 By few beyond her lineage seen.
 
 58 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Since she to perfect years had grown. 
 Fame of her beauty far had flown. 
 And many noble chieftains strove 
 For leave to proffer her their love. 
 
 But bold in wealth and lineal fame. 
 Now Angus, i^nias' chieftain came. 
 And, clothed in smiles and courtesies bland. 
 Of her in marriage made demand. 
 Angus was fair of form and young. 
 High born, and of alliance strong ; 
 His vast domains extended lay 
 Even from the northern Esk to Tay, 
 And from the Grampians westward, he 
 Held homage to the eastern sea. 
 The lands his ancestor receiv'd 
 From royal Alpine's son, who reav'd 
 Them, by his aid, in Scotland's hour 
 Of peril, from the Pictish power. 
 O ! had his sires, with wealth and birth, 
 Entail'd upon their heir their worth ! 
 But he to rank and splendour join'd 
 A dark, debas'd, and baleful mind.
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTV. 59 
 
 Such An2;us' fame. But public fame 
 lie scoru'd ; and now to jNIethvon came, 
 Accomplished in pomp and pride. 
 That e'en with royal splendour vied. 
 And as the thane his greatness knew. 
 He rendered him the welcome due. 
 The feast was spread, and, 'midst the sound. 
 Of mirth and music, circled round 
 The wine with bounty unrestrain'd. 
 And welcome and profusion reign'd. 
 And thus, for then the festive joys 
 Knew not the stinted hour's alloys ; 
 Three days with mirth and sport arose. 
 
 Three nights with banqueting were crown'd. 
 And, save in hours of brief repose. 
 
 Rung IVIethven's halls with pleasure's sound. 
 
 But there's a joy that gives the feast 
 And mirthful hour a hicfher zest 
 Than all that viands most benign. 
 Or sparkling wit, or generous wine. 
 Can yield to hearts with feeling warm ; 
 That secret, soul-inspiring charm 
 
 F
 
 60 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Is in the presence of the fair. 
 
 And was not Methven's guests to share ; 
 
 For beauteous Inva had not cheer'd 
 
 The feast when the fourth morn appear'd. 
 
 The lovely maid, retired, alone. 
 
 Had, from the first, been seen by none ; 
 
 For Angus' fame had reach'd her ear. 
 
 And she avoided him with fear. 
 
 He felt the slight with dudgeon high. 
 But bore it with unalter'd eye ; 
 For more he sought the maid, to prove 
 His power and influence, than from love. 
 And, as her merits had not led. 
 Her scorn could not his aims dissuade ; 
 For, trusting in his house's fame. 
 His high descent, and powerful name, 
 Now with her sire, he pass'd aside. 
 And proudly claim'd her as his bride. 
 
 The chief, who knew his youth was stain'd 
 By crimes, in mind his suit disdain'd ; 
 And his alliance to deny 
 Was fix'd ; but view'd his station high.
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 61 
 
 And urg'd his fond paternal fears 
 Of Inva's tender mind and years, 
 As causes meet to bar his voice 
 As yet against her marriage choice. 
 Express'd rehictance to dechne 
 A match so worthy of his hne ; 
 But, as he held his guests' degree 
 In honour, spoke his judgment free. 
 
 With firm, and still unalter'd eye, 
 Angus receiv'd the thane's reply. 
 But calling forth his train in haste. 
 
 He took a stern adieu ; 
 And, burning in his gloomy breast 
 
 With secret rage, withdrew. 
 Mute through the castle forest vast. 
 Amid his silent band he pass'd ; 
 But, having reach'd a distant height. 
 Whence jVIethven's towers were still in sight, 
 He turn'd, and from his bosom tore 
 
 His cross, and drew his sword. 
 And, witness'd by his clansmen, swore 
 
 To Heaven by oath abhorr'd.
 
 62 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto 111. 
 
 For that affront and stain upon 
 
 His house and rank by Methven thrown. 
 
 His friendship for him thence to change 
 
 To hatred, ne'er to cease. 
 Till he had had some dire revenge 
 
 On him, or on his race. 
 
 So Angus vow'd : then bent his way 
 To Birnam, where King Culen lay. 
 Amusing in the forest chase. 
 Or yielding to luxurious ease. 
 For there, unmindful of the state. 
 Now long the king had held retreat. 
 Amid the revelries and noise 
 Of rude volupt'rys and their joys. 
 And when to join them Angus came. 
 All welcom'd him with loud acclaim. 
 For, late his wit and splendid port 
 Had gain'd him high regard at court ; 
 And he, indeed, surpass'd in grace 
 Of manners, and the arts that please. 
 All Scotland's nobles of his time. 
 Far as he pass'd them all in crime.
 
 Canto ITT. BATTLE OF LONC'ARTY. G3 
 
 Hence had the prudent seen, with fear. 
 
 His influence in the royal ear. 
 
 And now, events with speed dcclar'd 
 
 That such presentments had not err'd. 
 
 For, when he join'd the courtier throng. 
 
 With revels new the palace rung. 
 
 By his alluring manners drawn. 
 
 The youthful king regardless ran 
 
 Headlong into licentious joys. 
 
 And publicly dissolv'd in vice. 
 
 And while his folly thus traduc'd 
 
 The throne, the kingdom's youth, seduc'd 
 
 By his example, scorning ftime 
 
 And honour, sunk in equal shame. 
 
 Meanwhile, the prostituted race 
 Of parasites and flatterers base. 
 Who throng'd the court, with uncontroll'd 
 And fulsome strains the king extoll'd ; 
 Proclaim'd him as ordain'd by fate 
 To give new splendour to the state ; 
 As first of monarchs who had join'd 
 Authority with taste refin'd.
 
 64 BATTLE OF LONG ARTY. Canto III. 
 
 And while his flatterers, insincere, 
 Abus'd his weak, unwary ear. 
 The king deceiv'd, the crew unbless'd 
 Advanc'd in grace, and more caress'd ; 
 His royal trusts and state commands 
 He plac'd in strange adventurer's hands ; 
 And turn'd on men, in wisdom old, 
 A deaf'ning ear and aspect cold. 
 
 But now the nobles, grave and wise. 
 Whose worth surviv'd the general vice, 
 Mov'd by the doom that seem'd to threat 
 The tottering and neglected state. 
 With hope by counsel to reclaim 
 Their erring king, to Birnam came. 
 Great Methven, long whose power had sway'd 
 In council, and in action led. 
 First of the train, by grief subdu'd. 
 Before the fallen monarch stood. 
 The Graeme, and Lothian, names endear'd 
 Long to his hne, the next appear'd ; 
 Their service in his father's reign 
 Gave hope their presence now might gain
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTV. 05 
 
 And draw his mind I'rom vices base. 
 By memory of his miglity race. 
 Next brave Macduff', whose patriot zeal 
 To guard the throne and pubhc weal, 
 With every rising danger rose. 
 Stood forth to stay the public woes. 
 Next in the patriot train were Mar, 
 And Murdo, both renown'd in war. 
 And with them many others came. 
 Of noble rank, and ancient name. 
 
 When thus the virtuous chiefs stood forth. 
 All great in rank as well as worth. 
 Though Culen scarcely shame conceal'd. 
 He of compunction nought reveal'd ; 
 For sternly, and with angry eyes 
 He view'd them, and, in feign'd surprise. 
 Inquired what duty of the state 
 Had brought them thus to a retreat, 
 Wliere, in retirement for a space. 
 He sought from public cares release. 
 When Methven thus, with voice depress'd 
 By grief, their mutual prayer express'd :
 
 66 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Sovereign of Albyn! rightful heir 
 Of many kings, profound the care 
 That draws your faithful nobles near. 
 Thus suppliant to your royal ear ! 
 Late on this fam'd and loyal land. 
 Your reign with blissful promise dawn'd ; 
 Crimes from your vigorous justice fled. 
 And Scotland in her king was glad. 
 But now, O prince ! fierce rapine stains 
 Again our peaceful vales and plains, 
 Th' authority of law decays, 
 And violence on the 'fenceless preys. 
 The kingdom's youth, who should be train'd 
 Her ancient glories to defend. 
 Arms and the arts of war despise. 
 And revel in inglorious vice. 
 And shall we, sire, environ'd by foes. 
 Thus blindly with destruction close ? 
 Shall in our hands those honours fade. 
 For which our sires for centuries bled ? 
 Shall we resign to alien spoil 
 This hallow'd land ! this sacred soil ! 
 Which, ever free ! has brav'd th' alarms 
 Of all the circhng world in arms ?
 
 Canto HI. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. G7 
 
 No ! let our sovereign, then, resign 
 Inglorious joys and sloth supine, 
 And guard his councils and his ear 
 'Gainst speculators insincere. 
 Let him the manage of the state 
 Resume, and Scotland's fears defeat : 
 And we, whose greatness with the throne 
 Arose, and with its growth has grown. 
 Shall ne'er he wanting to sustain 
 And lead him to a glorious reign. 
 
 While Methven spoke, the king, with ear 
 Attentive, seem'd his words to hear. 
 But, hy the admonition high 
 Unmov'd, thus lightly made reply. 
 Methven, and nobles all, with fair 
 Regard we view your loyal care. 
 And true it is, that, with the gay 
 And youthful, we have pass'd in play 
 Seasons and leisure hours, of late 
 Remitted by the cares of state. 
 Thus much we freely own, to prove 
 Our sense of your well-meaning love.
 
 68 BATTLE OF LONG ARTY. Canto III. 
 
 But we have to the kingdom's youth 
 
 Thus lent the rein, because, in truth. 
 
 We do not hold it wise to school, 
 
 T' attempt to fetter, and to rule 
 
 Youth's generous and aspiring rage 
 
 By maxims of abated age. 
 
 We hold in memory, as must you. 
 
 The ills our predecessor drew 
 
 Upon his reign by laws severe. 
 
 And we his rigours shun with fear. 
 
 But deem our nobles that the joys 
 
 In which we have indulged, destroys 
 
 The pride of arms ? that pleasures bliss — 
 
 Th' ambitions of renown depress ? 
 
 If so, securely we aver 
 
 That there, though else most wise, they err ; 
 
 For, all heroic records prove 
 
 That valour is the child of love. 
 
 Then, let our faithful chiefs repine 
 
 No more the state's surmis'd dechne ; 
 
 Our rising race, we trust, aspires 
 
 To match in martial fame their sires ; 
 
 And will, when call their country's needs. 
 
 We fear not, vouch our words by deeds.
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 69 
 
 As stood aloof th' apostate dread, 
 ^^'hc^ first his frauds mankind betray'd. 
 Flouting, ^vitll an infernal smile. 
 Heaven, and the victims of his guile ; 
 So Angus, at the king's reply. 
 Stood rapt in baleful pleasure by. 
 Meanwhile the chiefs, who, from the strain 
 Of Culen, deem'd all council vain. 
 To shun the ills that might accrue 
 From fit rejoinder, mute withdrew. 
 Yet griev'd to leave their king the sport 
 Of vice, still tarried near the court. 
 With hope some happier hour to find 
 To rouse to nobler sense his mind. 
 
 Thus hoped the patriots still to gain 
 The king to honour, but in vain. 
 For now the recreant crew who wrong'd 
 His youth, again around him throng'd ; 
 And he, content to be deceived. 
 Them to his heart again receiv'd. 
 But Angus, whose excelling skill 
 Tn wit and whim, supplied him still
 
 70 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 With mirth ; and, in their nightly rites. 
 Who oft to his debas'd dehghts 
 Paus'd not to play the pander base. 
 Stood highest in his love and grace ; 
 His inmost secrets constant shar'd. 
 And every day was more preferr'd. 
 
 Thus Angus held in Culen's grace 
 Of all the court inglorious place. 
 But still his baleful mind was torn 
 By his revenge on Methven sworn. 
 For beauteous Inva, to his pride 
 Late by the virtuous thane denied. 
 And when him now again he view'd 
 At court, and memory had renew'd 
 His hate ; a scheme of vengeance dread 
 Rush'd on his thoughts ; and, in its aid 
 By lure of pleasure to employ 
 The king, he vow'd with speed to try. 
 
 Dark was his aim ; and the regard 
 Of all the land for Methven, barr'd 
 His way ; but, rancours that impell'd 
 Him onward, s9on o'er fear prevail'd.
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 71 
 
 And when the king, at day's decline. 
 Was, at tlie banquet, warm'd by wine ; 
 While pouring foul effusions forth. 
 As wont, to his voluptuous mirth. 
 With subtlety resolv'd to prove 
 The place of Methven in his love. 
 He ply'd his wit to turn to jeer 
 His counsels faithful and sincere ; 
 And dar'd to make the absent thane 
 His ridicule and jest profane : 
 And when he saw that Culen bore 
 The sport, and oft the boisterous roar 
 Of laughter at his mockeries join'd ; 
 Secure that Methven in his mind 
 To ftivour had no special claim. 
 He hasted to his darker aim. 
 
 Pass'd from the chieftain, he the crew 
 Of revellers to his daughter drew ; 
 And now, with voice and ardour rais'd. 
 He Inva's passing beauty prais'd. 
 Extoll'd her as above compare. 
 Or like 'mongst women counted fair ;
 
 72 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Detail'd her charms, in strains that glow'd 
 With fires, and with effusions flow'd. 
 Whose breath profane must here forbear 
 The pure approach of virtue's ear ; 
 But when he saw the king on fire 
 With guilty passion and desire. 
 Him, by a private sign, he drew. 
 Apart from the inebriate crew ; 
 And, in effusions base and rude. 
 The beauteous Inva's praise renew'd ; 
 Again her heavenly form profan'd 
 By foul eulogiums ; and maintain'd 
 That she, with all her matchless charms. 
 Might, if he listed, bless his arms ; 
 For, with his presence to command. 
 In an adventure he had plann'd. 
 Ere twice the stag had left his lair. 
 He would from Methven bear the fair. 
 And place her safe in secret bower, 
 A smiling captive in his power. 
 
 The king, of joys impure the slave. 
 To the insidious tempter gave
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 73 
 
 An eager ear, and straight agreed 
 To aid in the atrocious deed. 
 When baleful Angus brief disclos'd 
 His daring project ; which propos'd 
 That now, while Methven lay at court 
 Secure, they, as entic'd by sport. 
 Should singly, and unarm'd, repair 
 To Invar woods ; and, gathering there. 
 From the marauders fierce who stay 
 For travellers on the northern way, 
 A daring band ; them, fill'd with greed 
 Of spoil, by night to Methven lead ; 
 And while the robber band surpris'd 
 The castle, they should, close disguis'd. 
 Amid the tumult of the raid. 
 Bear off, as friends, the trembling maid : 
 And ere th' alarm or morning rose. 
 Her in a safe retreat dispose. 
 
 For bright design, and virtue bold. 
 The fated king the plot extoU'd ; 
 Pledg'd secrecy, and fix'd the day 
 To follow for the dark essav.
 
 74 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. CaNTO III. 
 
 But fate, which to a sovereign end 
 
 Oft moves through human crimes, restrain'd 
 
 That day th' attempt : for at the court 
 
 Morn rose with dark and ominous port. 
 
 The faithful chiefs who saw, with pain, 
 
 Hope to reclaim the king was vain. 
 
 Had, after long and grave debate, 
 
 Resolv'd to leave him to his fate. 
 
 And, lest their presence might afford 
 
 A warrant to the acts abhorr'd 
 
 Which stain the court, while fenceless lay 
 
 Their lands the lawless spoilers' prey ; 
 
 They muster'd all their numerous trains. 
 
 And each retir'd to his domains. 
 
 And great Rodardus, griev'd his care 
 
 Could not the kingdom's ills repair. 
 
 Soon with his guardian presence cheer'd 
 
 And fill'd with joy his halls endear'd. 
 
 Thus, from King Culen pass'd away 
 The strength and glory of his sway ; 
 Yet when of the event appris'd. 
 Blind to his errors, he rejoic'd.
 
 Cantu III. liATTLi: or LONCARTY. 75 
 
 For thouffli his mind with rmv hoil'tl, 
 That Angus' i)lot had tlius l)C'on foil'd, 
 To be releas'd from men wlio avv'd 
 Mis wonted riots lie was glad. 
 And now, witli nothing to restrain. 
 He threw to his desires the rein. 
 And, midst his minions, sunk supine 
 
 • In sensual pleasures, sloth, and wine. 
 But Angus's vindictive rage. 
 
 No change could cool, no time assuage. 
 
 For, on the failure of the blow 
 
 By which he hop'd to pierce his foe. 
 
 Like fires, when 'gainst their courses beat 
 
 The winds, 'twas but increas'd in heat ; 
 
 And all his mind again was strain'd 
 
 In schemes to work its baleful end. 
 
 But great Rodardus, midst his powers. 
 Lay safely now in Methven towers. 
 And on his patrimonial sway. 
 Held crimes and fears, alike, at bay. 
 
 And now, again the w intry blast 
 Far to its northern caves had pass'd ; 
 
 G
 
 76 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Again the zephyrs, warm and young. 
 
 Through vale and wood their odours flung ; 
 
 The vista's youthful flow'rets strew. 
 
 The Almond's stream runs clear and hlue : 
 
 And, with the thousand sweets that peer 
 
 To hail the lovely rising year. 
 
 Again through Methven's woods and groves. 
 
 By buoyant spirits forth constrain'd. 
 Her wonted walks fair Inva roves ; 
 
 Again the falconers attend ; 
 And the lov'd bird her sire bestow'd, 
 Chmbs, at her word, the airy road ; 
 Or perches on her shielded hand. 
 Duteous to either soft command. 
 
 But, on a day when thus the maid 
 To more than wonted distance stray'd. 
 Or by the woodland's beauties wild. 
 Or by her falcon's flight beguil'd. 
 And near a lonely covert drew, 
 A stranger came in sudden view ; 
 A youthful hunter, tall and fair. 
 Of noble mien and knightly air :
 
 Canto IH. BATTLE OF LONCAUTY. 77 
 
 But wlu), as to disturh licr loth, 
 Held courteous distance from her patl) ; 
 And, by his homage, seem'd to say, 
 Pass, lady, fearless on your way. 
 
 To see a stranger, nobly guis'd. 
 Alone in these retreats, surpris'd 
 The lady's train ; and she, amaz'd. 
 Stood fix'd, and fearful on him gaz'd. 
 When he, to stay her seeming high 
 
 Displeasure or alarm, 
 Cried, Fear not, lady, naught is nigh 
 
 That meditates thee harm. 
 Then, stretching from beneath his plaid 
 His arm, with accent soft, he said : 
 He who this chain is charg'd to wear. 
 
 And wears it with good will. 
 Its noble mistress need not fear 
 
 Can mean her hurt or ill. 
 When on his arm the timid maid 
 With wonder saw the chain display'd. 
 With which she grac'd the stranger knight 
 Admir'd at Methven's mimic fight.
 
 78 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Nor knew she stood again before 
 The brave Sir Edric of the Spur. 
 
 But oft, of him, remembrance kind. 
 Since then, had pass'd her youthful mind ; 
 Oft she, alone, had said, with pain. 
 Shall e'er I see that knight again ? 
 And now, when she the chain survey'd. 
 With timid blush, she mildly said — 
 Alas, Sir knight ! the stranger brave 
 To whom that chain I idly gave. 
 Has since, perchance at England's court. 
 To thee transferr'd it in his sport ; 
 And lightly jested of his ease 
 In winning silly woman's grace. 
 
 Not so ! the stranger cried amain. 
 He could not basely entertain 
 A grace so high. Fair lady, see 
 The knight you honour'd thus, in me ! 
 When, on your brother's call I came. 
 To combat for the prize of fame. 
 You gave, and I will proudly hoard 
 This fairest trophy of my sword.
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 79 
 
 Let not my presence liere offend 
 Against the grace I happily then obtain'd. 
 
 The noble stranger who reveal'd 
 Such gallant worth in Methven field, 
 Disclos'd, and seeming scarcely grown 
 To number years beyond her own. 
 To meet in courteous converse there, 
 Surpris'd and pleas'd the beauteous fair. 
 The honours then from all he drew, 
 Return'd to mind and glow'd anew ; 
 A blush again her cheek o'erspread. 
 And, smiling ; Good sir knight, she said — 
 The trinket I conferr'd to own 
 Your honour to my brother shewn ; 
 You rate the silly boon too high. 
 But it will give my father joy 
 To see that thus you kindly deign 
 To visit these our northern lands again. 
 My warders through the woodlands wide 
 Your way shall to our castle guide. 
 And thither I my speed shall bend. 
 To see that honour meet on you attend.
 
 80 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 Thanks, noble fair, the knight rephed. 
 With look that thought confus'd imphed. 
 The worth and greatness of your sire 
 My most sincere regards inspire ; 
 But pardon, lady, if I say 
 A softer power directs my way 
 Adventurous thus your woods to rove ; 
 And if I add that power is — love. 
 For know, when first, in Methven field, 
 I was to you in arms reveal'd. 
 Me thither, not the sports to view. 
 But your reported beauty drew ; 
 And when your brother nobly dar'd 
 The field, and I his battle shar'd. 
 For you, I to his honour gave 
 All that I could, my own to save : 
 On which, by your distinction grac'd. 
 Love's purest flame possess'd my breast. 
 Then give me, lady, now to hear 
 If I expectancy may bear ; 
 Or, if your love by happier thane 
 Be won, and I have hop'd in vain ?
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTV. 81 
 
 He ceas'd. A\'itli blushes deep suffus'd. 
 The beauteous maid a moment mus'd ; 
 Then raising mild her lovely eyes. 
 With modest smile, she thus replies : — 
 Brave sir, the gift by men possessed. 
 On love with every maid to jest. 
 As happily the maid discreet 
 With conscious ear is arm'd to meet : 
 And I were churlish to disdain 
 The love which you so gaily feign. 
 But here, uncourteous, I delay — 
 Thus to our castle lies the way. 
 And, noble sir, whate'er may move 
 You thus our distant woods to rove. 
 You wrong yourself, when you might call 
 For welcome place in Methven's hall ; 
 And hospitable honours there 
 With Scotland's proudest nobles share. 
 
 Joy seem'd to light the stranger's eye. 
 At beauteous Inva's arch reply ; 
 And many knights had sigh'd in vain 
 Such promise of her grace to gain :
 
 82 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 But to her proffer him to guide 
 To Methven, he, sad, thus rephed: 
 Fair lady, only love sincere 
 Of you, again has drawn me here ; 
 And, while I duteous thanks prefer 
 For welcome to your castle fair, 
 'Tis meet you know, the honour'd place 
 You proffer'd me I ill might grace ; 
 For, midst the lofty nobles there. 
 How would a bare adventurer fare ? 
 No lands are mine, no proud domains. 
 No feudal holds, or vassal trains ; 
 No tinsell'd squires attend my call. 
 To bear my cup at board or hall ; 
 All sterile fate for me has stor'd 
 Is honour, courage, and my sword. 
 But what has not the sword acquir'd 
 By charms like thine and love inspir'd ? 
 In battle, have not Valour's sons 
 Gain'd titles, wealth, nay, often thrones ? 
 Then wilt thou, pledg'd to me, await 
 A time in arms my fortune's fate ? 
 Secure, if prosperous, them to share. 
 With kindness, truth, and love ;
 
 Canto HI. DATTLE OF LONCARTY. 83 
 
 And match with other knight defer 
 
 Till you that issue prove : 
 And to that tender compact, now 
 Exchange with me love's holy vow. 
 
 The gifts with which the stranger shone. 
 On Inva had unconscious won ; 
 And though she feign'd as jest to view 
 His suit, half wish'd it had been true ; 
 But when himself he thus declar'd 
 A nameless man, his suit preferr'd 
 So boldly, rous'd her conscious fear 
 To trust him further with her ear. 
 And thus, with an ingenuous mind 
 And pensive look, she answer'd kind. 
 
 Sir knight, that fortune is austere 
 To worth like thine, I grieve to hear ; 
 For thy heroic merit shewn 
 In Methven field, I needs must own. 
 For thee has planted in my mind 
 A value there to few assign'd. 
 But high though thy attainments be, 
 With knight of thy declar'd degree
 
 84 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Canto III. 
 
 I am denied, did e'en incline 
 My heart, in plight of love to join ; 
 For, fi'om a line I hold my birth, 
 Rais'd high by valour, time, and worth ; 
 And woman, not endow'd to raise. 
 Should ne'er her house's rank debase. 
 And thus, alone, sir knight, can I 
 To your regarded suit reply. 
 But thou art valiant, and thy fame 
 And fortune soon may yield you claim 
 To other maid, who may, alas ! 
 My feeble merits far surpass. 
 
 She said, with channs supreme adorn'd. 
 When thus the stranger sad return'd : 
 Your duty to your line and name. 
 Fair lady, I should err to blame ; 
 For I, could that afford me worth. 
 Might boast no mean inferior birth ; 
 Yet, your decree I hold severe. 
 But some more happy knight, I fear. 
 More than my fortunes, has possess'd 
 And shut against my suit your breast.
 
 Canto III. bATTLE OF LONCARTY. 85 
 
 Love, brave sir knight, she answer'd, kind, 
 Has yet no tenure in my mind : 
 It is a labyrinth, a maze. 
 Where youthful maid with danger strays ; 
 And ever has its fame my ear 
 Less mov'd to pleasure than to fear. 
 But to our castle yet repair. 
 Repose and ease a space to share ; 
 My sire and brother, who retain 
 In mind your fame in JNIethven plain. 
 Will grieve should it to them be known 
 You pass'd so near, yet would their court'sies shun. 
 
 Thanks, noble lady, now replied 
 The knight, as stung by w^ounded pride ; 
 In Methven halls your friends to join 
 I now remed'less must decline. 
 To shun in scenes remote the pain 
 Of your severe and stern disdain. 
 But though to this by fate controll'd. 
 Place in your memory let me hold ; 
 And if, to me some fate severe 
 In war's dark rank, should reach your ear.
 
 86 BATTLE OF LONCARTY. Caxto III. 
 
 Remember Edric of the Spur, 
 
 AMio from your hand this bracelet wore. 
 
 For you with noblest passion sigh'd, 
 
 Preferr'd his suit, and was denied. 
 
 When, with obeisance cold, the knight 
 
 Into the woods withdrew from sight ; 
 
 And Inva, in whose beauteous eyes 
 
 A tear forbidden strove to rise. 
 
 The strange encounter pondering through. 
 
 Towards the castle slowly drew ; 
 
 And, inly musing, thus in thought 
 
 Confus'd, to reason on it sought. 
 
 That knight, when Methven's tilts he join'd. 
 Is imag'd still upon my mind : 
 His mien, his steed, and proud display 
 In arms, on that remember'd day. 
 Seems with the tale he now has told 
 A clear accordance scarce to hold. 
 Is he some haughty Saxon thane. 
 Who, of his high attainments vain. 
 Has sought my ear to play a jest ? 
 For this his seeming meets the best ;
 
 Canto III. BATTLE OF LONCARTY. 87 
 
 Yet scarce, methinks, he'd venture here 
 
 Lord Methven's daughter thus to jeer. 
 
 How must I guess ? is he, indeed, 
 
 A nameless soldier, arm'd, his need 
 
 And hopes of fortune by his sword 
 
 To furnish, as declares his word ? 
 
 If so, would that the day he fought 
 
 At Methven, I'd been far remote : 
 
 But though his high attainments move 
 
 Me much, and him, I fear, I love. 
 
 No passion shall my heart incline 
 
 To do dishonour to my line. 
 
 And musing thus, and pensive, through 
 
 The gates she pass'd, and to her halls withdrew. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
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