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Wielding unhallowed arms 'twas his to fall:
'One word, one careless word, escaped his tongue;
One careless word, from guile, from anger free. Blood, blood must cleanse the unsuspected wrong—
Meet on the heath, beside the lonely tree'—
'So spake the foe; nor, parting, did he hide
Too well my friend the glance of scorn descried;
'What shall I do? custom! thy tyrant sway,
And thine, whose nod the brave, the base, obey,
'That field perchance consigns thee to the dead,
Affection cries, forbear, forbear the strife; Think on thy childless mother's hoary head:
Think on thy orphan babes, thy widowed wife!
. . . i .1 r,
1 Yes, throbs of nature I through my inmost soul,
From nerve to nerve your strong vibrations dart— Hark, duty speaks—Rebellious pride control,
And bow to heaven's behest the swelling heart.
'What though, be witness heaven! nor vengeful haie
Nor hostile rage within my bosom burn: How can I guiltless tread the brink of fate,
And dare the grief from whence is no return?
'Though from his breast who braves me to the fight, Guarding my own, my sword aloof I wave;
What praise, while yet against his lawless might
'How mid assembled angels shall I dare
For judgment throned the Son of God to see;
Afraid for him the sting of scorn to bear,
Who bore the sting of scorn and death for me?
'And is it then so deep a crime to die,
Shielding from taint my yet unspotted name ?—
Away, vain sophistry! a Christian I,
. Yet how, proud foe, thy cold insulting eye,
Vhere hide my head while slander's envious cry,
'My native woodlands shall I seek, the sneer
Or haunt the town, in every wind to hear
'There skulks the coward,' murmur through the street?
'What, live to infamy, of fools the scorn,
No: farewell doubt!'—Beneath the waving thorn,
i. . ... . i... i
'Stranger! if trials like to his are thine,
Shame dost thou dread? the shame of sin decline:
By LADY FRANCES SCOTT, now LADY DOUGLAS,
On a Skeleton found in Dalkeith Park, at the time when the Duke of Buccleugh was raising his Fencible Regiment.
Reader! the mortal part is here interred
Of one whose name the poet never heard;
Thou mayest indulge imagination here,
And shed for fancied woes a generous tealr. i
If emulation ever fill thy mind,
Deem him a warrior of the bravest kind,
Stranger to fear—whom death alone could tame,
When the sun shines out bright,
I laugh and I talk like a fool:
I am wild as a boy broke from school.
Next comes a cloudy, chilly, stormy day,
Then rectify, O heaven! my wavering mind,
My child, my child, thou leav'st me !—I shall hear