And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing:

Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,

His wrath was chang'd to wailing.

For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade

His child he did discover :

One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,

And one was round her lover.

• Come back! come back!' he cried in grief,

Across this stormy water:

• And I'll forgive your Highland chief,

• My daughter!-oh my daughter!'

C5

'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore,

Return or aid preventing:

The waters wild went o'er his child

And he was left lamenting.

LINES

ON THE

GRAVE OF A SUICIDE.

By strangers left upon a lonely shore,

Unknown, unhonour'd, was the friendless dead :

For child to weep, or widow to deplore,

There never came to his unburied head

All from his dreary habitation fled.

Nor will the lantern'd fisherman at eve

Launch on that water by the witches' tow'r, Where hellebore and hemlock seem to weave Round its dark vaults a melancholy bow'r, For spirits of the dead at night's enchanted hour.

They dread to meet thee, poor unfortunate !
Whose crime it was, on life's unfinish'd road
To feel the stepdame buffetings of fate,
And render back thy being's heavy load.
Ah! once, perhaps, the social passions glow'd
In thy devoted bosom-and the hand

That smote its kindred heart, might yet be prone
To deeds of mercy. Who may understand
Thy many woes, poor suicide, unknown?-
He who thy being gave shall judge of thee alone.

ODE TO WINTER.

WHEN first the fiery-mantled sun

His heavenly race began to run,
Round the earth and ocean blue,
His children four the Seasons flew.