FIRST BARD. NIGHT is dull and dark. The clouds rest on the hills. No star with green-trembling beam; no moon looks from the sky. I hear the blast in the wood; bnt I hear it distant far. The stream of the valley murmurs; but its murmur is sullen and sad. From the tree at the grave of the dead the long howling owl is heard. I see a dim form on the plain! It is a ghost! it fades, it flies. Some funeral shall pass this way: the meteor marks the path. Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo Sæpe queri, et longas in fletum ducere voces. Imitated by Gray. Save where from yonder ivy-mantled tower The moping owl does to the moon complain, Of such as wandering near her secret bower, In the copy subjoined to Croma, "The lonely screech-owl groans," (Solaque culminibus, &c.) was altered to " The long-howling owl is heard," from the original, "Hourly 'tis heard," et longas in fletum ducere voces ; and Gray, who derived his ivy-mantled tower from the turret's height; "the moping owl complains," from " Solaque culminibus-bubo sæpe queri;" and "her solitary reign," from "The solitary screech-owl," had some reason to exclaim, "In short, this man is the very demon of poetry, or he has lighted upon a treasure hid for ages." GRAY's Works, iv. 59. n. 12mo. 4 Some dead shall pass this way.] The additional image in the second version, "The meteor marks the path," is from THOMSON'S Autumn. The meteor sits and shews the narrow path. 2 D VOL. II. The distant dog is howling; The stag lies by the mountain-well, The hind is at his side; She hears the wind in his horns, She starts, but lies again. The roe is in the cleft of the rock: The heath-cock's head beneath his wing. No beast, no bird is abroad, But the owl, and the howling fox; She on the leafless tree, He on the cloudy hill 5. Dark, panting, trembling, sad, 6 The traveller has lost his way "; Through shrubs, through thorns he goes, He fears the rock and the pool, He fears the ghost of the night 7, Dark, dusky, howling is night, 5 She on the leafless tree, He on the cloudy hill.] The owl and the howling dog were already abroad; but the howling fox is a beautiful repetition, from Windsor Forest, (Carthon) and the progressive improvement of the imagery is observable. "She on a leafless tree; he in a cloud on the hill." • Dark, panting, trembling, sad, The traveller has lost his way.] THOMSON'S Winter. Lone on the midnight steep, and all aghast, The dark, wayfaring stranger breathless toils. 7 He fears the rock and the pool, He fears the ghost of the night.] POPE's Thebais of Statius, 524. ; supra, 2. The distant dog is howling from the hut of the hill. The stag lies on the mountain moss: the hind is at his side. the wind in his branchy horns. She hears She starts, but lies again. The roe is in the cleft of the rock; the heath-cock's head is No beast, no bird is abroad, but the owl beneath his wing. and the howling fox. the hill. She on a leafless tree; he in a cloud on Dark, panting, trembling, sad, the traveller has lost his way. Through shrubs, through thorns, he goes, along the gurgling rill. He fears the rock and the fen. He fars the ghost of night. The old tree groans to the blast; the falling branch resounds. The wind drives the withered burs, clung together, along the grass. It is the light tread of a ghost! He trembles amidst the night. Dark, dusky, howling, is the night, cloudy, windy, and full So fares a sailor on the stormy main, &c. He dreads the rocks, and shoals and seas, and skies, The old tree groans to the blast; The falling branch resounds.] Antennæque gemant. HoR. Highlander, ii. 112. Id. iii. 129. The tapering firs, the elms, the aged oaks,→ Thus on some night when sable tempests roar, The watchman, wearying of his lonely hour, Hears some rent branch to squeak 'twixt every blast, But in each ruder gust the creak is lost. 9 The wind drives the clung thorn Along the sighing grass.] In the second version, "The withered burs, clung together, along the grass: from POPE's Odyssey, v. 417. a frequent As when a heap of gather'd thorns is cast, Cloudy, windy, and full of ghosts; SECOND BARD. THE wind is up on the mountain; The storm drives the horse from the hill, The goat and the lowing cow; They tremble as drives the shower, And look for the shade of the stall 13. The hunter starts from sleep in his lone hut, 10 The wind is up on the mountain ;— Woods groan and windows clap.] BLAIR's Grave. The wind is up, hark! how it howls! Methinks Doors creak, and windows clap. Here, "The wind is up on the mountain," is a substitute for "The spirit of the mountain shrieks;" which was suppressed in the copies transmitted to Gray and Shenstone, as a dangerous imitation of HOME's Douglas. See Dar-thula 27. Red came the river down, and loud and oft The angry spirit of the waters shrieked. "The growing river roars.] From that and THOMSON'S Autumn. Tumultuous roar, and high above its banks 12 The traveller attempts the ford, He falls, he shrieks, he dies.] THOMSON's Autumn: supra, 3, of ghosts! The dead are abroad! my friends, receive me from the night. SECOND BARD. The wind is up. The shower descends. The spirit of the mountain shrieks. Woods fall from high. Windows flap. The growing river roars. The traveller attempts the ford. Hark! that shriek! he dies! The storm drives the horse from the hill, the goat, the lowing cow. They tremble as drives the shower, beside the mouldering bank. The hunter starts from sleep, in his lonely hut; he wakes the Whither decoyed by the fantastic blaze, Sent by the better genius of the night, Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane, The meteor sits, and shews the narrow path, That, winding, leads through pits of death; or else Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford. But the better genius of the night, and the meteor that shews the narrow path through pits of death, were already converted into the ghosts of the night, and the meteor that marked the path of the (traveller's) funeral. And the improvement in the second version, “ Hark! that shriek! he dies!" is from the passage of BLAIR's Grave, quoted above. Hark! how it howls! Methinks Till now I never heard a sound so dreary. 13 The storm drives the horse from the hill, They tremble as drives the shower, And look for the shade of the stall.] POPE's Imitations of Hor. i. Epist. i. As drives the storm, at any door I knock: And house with Montagne now, or now with Locke. |