They, sightless, stand,
To mend the honest Patriot-lore,
30 And grace the hand.
‘And when the Bard, or hoary Sage,
Charm or instruct the future age,
They bind the wild Poetic rage
In energy;
35 Or point the inconclusive page
Full on the eye.
‘Hence, FULLARTON, the brave and young;10
Hence, DEMPSTER’S zeal-inspirèd tongue;11
Hence, sweet, harmonious BEATTIE sung12
40 His “Minstrel lays”;
Or tore, with noble ardour stung,
The Sceptic’s bays’.
‘To lower Orders are assign’d
The humbler ranks of Human-kind,
45 The rustic Bard, the lab’ring Hind,
The Artisan;
All chuse, as various they’re inclin’d,
The various man.
‘When yellow waves the heavy grain,
50 The threat’ning Storm some strongly rein,
Some teach to meliorate the plain,
With tillage-skill;
And some instruct the Shepherd-train,
Blythe o’er the hill.
55 ‘Some hint the Lover’s harmless wile;
Some grace the Maiden’s artless smile;
Some soothe the Lab’rer’s weary toil
For humble gains,
And make his cottage-scenes beguile
60 His cares and pains.
‘Some, bounded to a district-space,
Explore at large Man’s infant race,
To mark the embryotic trace
Of rustic Bard;
65 And careful note each op’ning grace,
A guide and guard.
‘Of these am I — COILA my name;
And this distrìct as mine I claim,
Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame,
70 Held ruling pow’r:
I mark’d thy embryo-tuneful flame,
Thy natal hour.
‘With future hope I oft would gaze,
Fond, on thy little early ways;
75 Thy rudely caroll’d, chiming phrase,
In uncouth rhymes;
Fir’d at the simple, artless lays
Of other times.
‘I saw thee seek the sounding shore,
80 Delighted with the dashing roar;
Or when the North his fleecy store
Drove thro’ the sky,
I saw grim Nature’s visage hoar,
Struck thy young eye.
85 ‘Or when the deep green-mantled Earth
Warm-cherish’d ev’ry floweret’s birth,
And joy and music pouring forth
In ev’ry grove;
I saw thee eye the gen’ral mirth
90 With boundless love.
‘When ripen’d fields and azure skies
Call’d forth the Reaper’s rustling noise,
I saw thee leave their ev’ning joys,
And lonely stalk,
95 To vent thy bosom’s swelling rise,
In pensive walk.
‘When youthful Love, warm-blushing, strong,
Keen-shivering, shot thy nerves along,
Those accents grateful to thy tongue,
100 Th’ adored Name,
I taught thee how to pour in song
To soothe thy flame.
‘I saw thy pulse’s maddening play,
Wild-send thee Pleasure’s devious way,
105 Misled by Fancy’s meteor-ray,
By Passion driven;
But yet the light that led astray
Was light from Heaven.
‘I taught thy manners-painting strains
110 The loves, the ways of simple swains,
Till now, o’er all my wide domains
Thy fame extends;
And some, the pride of Coila’s plains,
Become thy friends.
115 ‘Thou canst not learn, nor can I show,
To paint with Thomson’s landscape glow;
Or wake the bosom-melting throe
With Shenstone’s art;
Or pour, with Gray, the moving flow
120 Warm on the heart.
‘Yet, all beneath th’unrivall’d Rose,
The lowly Daisy sweetly blows;
Tho’ large the forest’s Monarch throws
His army shade,
125 Yet green the juicy Hawthorn grows
Adown the glade.
‘Then never murmur nor repine;
Strive in thy humble sphere to shine;
And trust me, not Potosi’s 13 mine,
130 Nor King’s regard,
Can give a bliss o’ermatching thine,
A rustic Bard.
‘To give my counsels all in one:
Thy tuneful flame still careful fan;
135 Preserve the dignity of Man,
With Soul erect;
And trust the UNIVERSAL PLAN
Will all protect.
‘And wear thou this’ — She solemn said,
140 And bound the