Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1850-06-29
From Blackwood's Magazine.
To BurnSS Highland Mary.


Long loved, and honored duly,
BY all who love the bard that sang
So sweetly and so truly
In cultured dalcs his song prevails,
Thrills o'cr the eagles aery--
All | who that strain has caught, nor sighed
For Burns's "Highland Maryt"
His golden hours of youth were thine
Those hours whose fight is Aeetcst;
OF ell his songs TO thee he gave
The freshest and the sweetest,
Ere ripe the fruit, one branch he brake,
All rich with bloom and blossom
And shook its dews, its incense shook,
Around thy brow and bosom.
And when his Spring, alas how soon!
Had been by care subvcrted-
His Summer, like god ropulsed,
Had from his gates departed;
Beneath the evening star, once more,
Star Of his morn and even
To thee his suppliant hands he spread,
And hailed his love ain heaven"
In him there burned that passionate glow,
All Natures soul and SAVIOR,
Which gives its hue to every flower,
To every fruit its flavor.
Nor less the kindred power he felt,
That love Of all things human,
Whereof the fiery centre is
The love man bears to woman,
He sang the dignity of mar,
Sang woman's grace and goodness;
Passed by the worlds half-truths, her lies
Pierced through with lance-like shrcwdness
Upon lifos broad highways he stood,
And aped not Greek nor Roman;
But snatchod from heaven Promethean fire
To glorify things common.
He sang of youth, he sang Of age,
Their joys, their srieis, their labors;
Felt with, not for, the people hailed
All Scotland's sons his neighbors
And therefore all repeat his verse
Hot youth, or graybcard steady,
The boatman on Loch Elves wave,
Tho shepherd on Ben Lodi.
He sang from love of song his namo
Dunedins cliff rosounded--
He left her, faithful to fame
On truth and nature founded.
He sought true fame not loud acclaim;
Himself and Time he trusted
For laurels cracking in the fame
His fine car never lusted.
He loved, and reason had to love,
The illustrious land that bore him.
Where'er he went, like heavens broad tent,
star-bright Past hung o'or him.
Each isle had fenced saint rccluse,
Each tower hero dying;
Down every mountain gorge had rolled
The food of focmcn flying.
Honor TO Scotland and to Burns
In him she stands collected;
A thousand streams one river made
Thus genius, heaven directed,
Conjoins all separate veins of power
In one great soul creation;
And blends million mon to mako
The Poet Of the nation,
Honor TO Burns and her who first
Let loose the abounding river
Of music from the Poets heart,
Borne through all lands foreverl
How much to her mankind has owed
Of songs selected treasures!
Unswcctcned by her kiss, his lips
Had sung far other measures.
Be green for aye, green bank and brae
Around Motgomery's Castle
Blow there, yc earliest flowers and there
Ye sweetest song birds, nestle
For thero was "a en- that last farewell;
In hope, indulged how blindly;
And there was givon that long last gaze
"That dwelt" on him "sae kindly"
No word of thine recorded stands
Few words that hour were spoken;
Two Bibles there were interchangcd,
And some slight love-glts broken;
And there thy cold faint hands he pressed,
Thy head by dcw-drops mistcd;
And kisses, il-resistcd first,
At last were unresisted.