Old KENNETH, thus, had basely been betray'd,
(Against his will a British soldier made),
To fill the measure of his mortal woes
Is now led forth against his kindred foes!
War's rude emotions soon pervert the mind,
And all its direful duties deep combined,
To deeds of horror reconcile the soul;-
Man thus transform'd, soon loses mild controul;
Whatever service destined to pursue
He fearless faces like a Roman true!
Adorn'd in all the grace of manly charms As form'd by nature-high in feats of arms, Young RANALD (Kenneth's son) stood thus confest. What time Revolt uprear'd his awful crest, Our hero flew to arms, and join'd the van, To gain distinction-prove himself a man Worthy the race of heroes whence he came, And stamp immortal honour on his name. Th' injuries of his family unredress'd, Revenge fix'd empire in his daring breast, Wild and impetuous, keen, without controul Stirr'd up the mighty workings of his soul.
"To arms! to arms!" Rebellion gave the word. Columbia's heroes wave the sheathless sword. In hostile attitude, the gay the grave
As patriots rush, their freedom thus to save.
A chosen leader forth young Ranald came,
For vengeance panting, liberty, and fame.
The post of honour now to him assign'd,
He guards with steady, cool, determin'd mind.
'Tis night. The vanguard centinels on watch,
Each on his 'vantage ground oft lists to catch
The fancied whisper. Now the moon rides high,
And clear as mid-day seems the cloudless sky.
As near the confines of a matted wood,
Beneath an oak the gray-hair'd Kenneth stood,
Deep lost in thought, he sighs the hours away
Unmindful of th' approach of dawning day,-
Joys past come floating on the mental view,
How sweetly sad-but ah! how painful too-
Pleased once in humble ease he had a home,
Nor wanted aught, nor wish had he to roam;
No. Kenneth ask'd not wealth-his lowly state
Saved him from envy's greediness or hate-
His cot, his croft, the hill that rose behind
And shelter'd all from Winter's stormy wind,
That yielded pasture for his little store,
'Twas all his soul desir'd, nor wish'd for more.
But sad reverse-no more the cot, the hill,
Claim any care-and what more precious still
His soul's lov'd objects-wife and children dear!
Ah tender retrospect !-the big-swoln tear
Rolls down his cheek-his wife is dead and gone!
His daughters too-and now his only son
An exile !-Hark! behind a rustling noise
Alarms the pensive warrior-soft a voice
Whispers the watch-word-quickly Kenneth knows
The treach'rous sign, and dreads surrounding foes
In silence stealing on the slumbering host:
Th' alarm he gives, but still retains his post.
Headlong a daring foe rush'd on his steel
At once transfixt-in agony did reel ;—
groan escap'd him-as he gnaw'd the ground Life's purple stream gush'd from the mortal wound, He rais'd his head, and fetch'd a deep, deep sigh, On Kenneth cast a languid death-fixt eye. "Hadst thou, old man," he said, "an only son, Long lost to thy embrace-far distant goneThink then, O think, if in the flower of age He fell inglorious midst the battle's rage Unknown to fame-unheard of among those Who hurl dire vengeance on their country's foes, How thy fond heart would bleed?-Thine aged arm More fortunate than mine hath wrought this harm : Here-take this sword, the gift once of my sire, Kenneth his name-now-let me—thus-expire!”
My son my son !" exclaims the maddening foe, And aims at his own heart the fatal blow!
Prone on his son's pale corse the w rrior falls,
"My son! my son !" expiring, faintly calls!
So falls the aged oak-the sapling dies,
The parent-root no longer life supplies.
IV. Will man, abhorring murder, peace restore,
Return to reason-learn to kill no more?
Oh! when shall all the nations, joyful, calm,
On high triumphant wave the sacred palm ?
Hark! 'twas a seraph's voice!-through space it ran "Peace, peace on earth" proclaim'd, "good will to man!" "Glory to GOD on high!"-Creation hears!
"To GoDon high be glory"-rang throughout the spheres!
She comes, she comes! benignant Peace now smiles,
And sheds her influence o'er these favour'd isles.
And far and wide the joyful nations round,
Catch the glad tidings and repeat the sound :
"Peace, peace on earth-good will to human kind !”
-In peace, sweet peace, shall man true comforts find-
Arts, industry, and wealth, contentment, ease,
Shall beam around our shores, and brighten all our seas.
To latest ages may those blessings last-
When time shall mellow all the roughness past,
And wrongs and grievances are all redress'd,
Then mild content will dwell in every breast.
Man, lord of nature, shall lift up on high
His humbled head-in brightest deeds will vie,
That lead to honour, happiness and ease,
And emulous how best the fair to please;
In graceful gladness, soft in rosy bloom,
Shall maiden innocence its power assume,
And lead the captive heart in rapture sweet
To taste the blessings of a still retreat.
Time was, when some fond pair in wedlock bless'd Enjoy'd content, the sunshine of the breast,
On some lone spot amidst the Grampians hoar,
Where down the glen was heard the cataract's roar ;
Where birch and hazel, mountain ash and oak
Entwined their arms, through which some bothan's smokė
Curl'd up the heath-clad height, a token sure,
That all was tranquil, joyous, and secure :
Where near at hand some aged bard did dwell,
Who" Tales of other times" could tuneful tell :
And gray-hair'd herdsmen, skill'd in rural lore,
Tell how they wak'd the fold in days of yore.—
When native flocks and herds were grazing seen
On craggy heights, and plats of pastures green.
But now, where nought appears along the steep,
Save here and there a wandering group of sheep.
V. Scarce forty summers, since an alien breed (4)
Ranged o'er the Grampians, more at large to feed;
A gross-boned race, with fleeces coarse and long,
Tho' fruitful, faulty, sickly too, though strong:
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