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And now at equal distance shews the land.Gladly the tars the joyful task pursue

Of gathering in the freight.-Debates arise
From counterfeited halfpence.—In the hold
The seamen scrutinize, and eager peep

Thro' every corner where their watchful eye
Suspects a lurking place, or dark retreat,
To hide the timid corpse of some poor soul,
Whose scanty purse can scarce one groat afford.

At length, we, cheerful, land on Fifan shore, Where sickness vanishes, and all the ills Attendant on the passage of Kinghorn. Our pallid cheeks resume their rosy hue, And empty stomachs keenly crave supply. With eager step we reached the friendly inn ; Nor did we think of beating our retreat Till every gnawing appetite was quelled.

Eastward along the Fifan coast we stray : And here th' unwearied eye may fondly gaze O'er all the tufted groves and pointed spires With which the pleasant banks of Forth are crowned.

Sweet navigable stream! where Commerce reigns,

Where Peace and jocund Plenty smiles serene. On thy green banks sits Liberty enthroned: But not that shadow which the English youth

So eagerly pursue; but freedom bought,
When Caledonia's triumphant sword

Taught the proud sons of Anglia to bemoan Their fate at Bannockburn, where thousands came,

Never to tread their native soil again.

Far in a rugged den, where Nature's hand Had careless strewed the rocks, a dreadful cave,

Whose concave ceiling echoed to the floods
Their hollow murmurs on the trembling shore,
Demanded our approach. The yawning porch
Its massy
sides disclosed, and o'er the top
The ivy tendrils twined th' uncultured fern.
Fearful, we pry into the dreary vault,
Hoary with age, and breathing noxious damps.
Here screeching owls may unmolested dwell
In solitary gloom :-for few there are
Whose inclination leads them to review
A cell where putrid smells infectious reign *.

Then, turning westward, we our course pur

sue

Along the course of Fortha's briny flood,

* A large cave at a small distance from Kinghorn, supposed, about a century ago, to have been the haunt of thieves.

Till we o'ertake the gradual rising dale
Where fair Burntisland rears her reverend dome:
And here the vulgar sign-post, painted o'er
With imitations vile of man and horse;
Of small-beer frothing o'er th' unshapely jug;
With courteous invitation, spoke us fair

To enter in, and taste what precious drops Were there reserved to moisten strangers' throats,

Too often parched upon the tedious way.

After regaling here with sober cann,

Our limbs we plied, and nimbly measured o'er
The hills, the vales, and the extensive plains,
Which form the distance from Burntisland's port
To Inverkeithing. Westward still we went,
Till in the ferry-boat we lolled at ease :
Nor did we long on Neptune's empire float;
For scarce ten posting minutes were elapsed
Till we again on terra firma stood,

And to M'Laren's marched, where roasted lamb,

With cooling lettice, crowned our social board. Here, too, the cheering glass, chief foe to Care, Went briskly round; and many a virgin fair Received our homage in a bumper full.

Thus having sacrificed a jocund hour
To smiling Mirth, we quit the happy scene,
And move progressive to Edina's walls.

Now still returning eve creeped gradual on, And the bright sun, as weary of the sky, Beamed forth a languid occidental ray, Whose ruby-tinctured radiance faintly gleamed Upon the airy cliffs and distant spires, That float on the horizon's utmost verge. So we, with festive joints and lingering pace, Moved slowly on, and did not reach the town Till Phoebus had unyoked his prancing steeds.

Ye sons of Caledonia! who delight, With all the pomp and pageantry of state, To roll along in gilded affluence,

For one poor moment wean your thoughts from these,

And list this humble strain.-If you, like us,
Could brave the angry waters; be uproused
By the first salutation to the morn

Paid by the watchful cock; or be compelled
On foot to wander o'er the lonely plain
For twenty tedious miles; then should the Gout,
With all his racking pangs, forsake your frame.
For he delights not to traverse the field,
Or rugged steep, but prides him to recline
On the luxuriance of a velvet fold,

Where Indolence on purple sofa lolls.
U

A BURLESQUE ELEGY,

On the Amputation of a Student's Hair before his Qrders.

O SAD catastrophe! O event dire!

How shall the loss, the heavy loss, be borne ? Or how the Muse attune the plaintive lyre, To sing of Strephon with his ringlets shorn?

Say ye, who can divine the mighty cause, From whence this modern circumcision

springs?

Why such oppressive and such rigid laws
Are still attendant on religious things?

Alas, poor Strephon! to the stern decree Which prunes your tresses, are you doomed to yield?

Soon shall

your caput, like the blasted tree, Diffuse its faded honours o'er the field.

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