Compared with this, how poor religion's pride,

In all the pomp of method and of art, When men display to congregations wide

Devotion's every grace, except the heart! The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole: But, haply, in some cottage far apart,

May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul; And in his book of life the inmates poor enroll.

Then homeward all take off their several way;
The youngling cottagers retire to rest;
The parent-pair their secret homage pay,
And proffer up to heaven the warm request,
That He, who stilis the raven's clamorous nest,
And decks the lily fair in flowery pride,
Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best,

For them and for their little ones provide;

But, chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine preside.

From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs,
That makes her loved at home, revered abroad:
Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,
"An honest man's the noblest work of God."
And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road,

The cottage leaves the palace far behind.
What is a lordling's pomp?—a cumbrous load,
Disguising oft the wretch of human kind,
Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined!

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!

For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And, oh! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile!

Then, howe'er crown and coronets be rent,

A virtuous populace may rise the while,

And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle.

O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide

That stream'd through Wallace's undaunted heart; Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part, (The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art,

His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!) Oh, never, never, Scotia's realm desert;

But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard, In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!

THE LAST DAY.

ROBERT POLLOK-“THe course of TIME.' ""

In customed glory bright, that morn the sun
Rose, visiting the earth with light, and heat,
And joy; and seemed as full of youth, and strong
To mount the steep of heaven, as when the Stars
Of morning sung to his first dawn, and night

Fled from his face; the spacious sky received
Him blushing as a bride, when on her looked
The bridegroom; and spread out beneath his eye
Earth smiled. Up to his warm embrace the dews,
That all night long had wept his absence, flew:
The herbs and flowers their fragrant stores unlocked,
And gave the wanton breeze, that, newly woke,
Revelled in sweets, and from its wings shook health,
A thousand grateful smells; the joyous woods
Dried in his beams their locks, wet with the drops
Of night; and all the sons of music sung
Their matin song; from arboured bower, the thrush
Concerting with the lark that hymned on high,
On the green hill the flocks, and in the vale
The herds rejoiced; and, light of heart, the hind
Eyed amorously the milk-maid as she passed,
Not heedless, though she looked another way.

No sign was there of change; all nature moved
In wonted harmony; men as they met,
In morning salutation, praised the day,
And talked of common things; the husbandman
Prepared the soil, and silver-tongued hope
Promised another harvest; in the streets,
Each wishing to make profit of his neighbour,
Merchants assembling, spoke of trying times.
Of bankruptcies and markets glutted full:
Or, crowding to the beach, where, to their ear,
The oath of foreign accent, and the noise
Uncouth of trade's rough sons, made music sweet,
Elate with certain gain, beheld the bark,
Expected long, enriched with other climes,
Into the harbour safely steer; or saw,
Parting with many a weeping farewell sad,
And blessing uttered rude, and sacred pledge,
The rich laden carack, bound to distant shore;
And hopefully talked of her coming back
With richer fraught;-or sitting at the desk,
In calculation deep and intricate,

Of loss and profit balancing, relieved
At intervals the irksome task with thought
Of futured ease, retired in villa snug.

With subtile look, amid his parchments sate, The lawyer, weaving his sophistries for court To meet at mid-day. On his weary couch Fat luxury, sick of the night's debauch, Lay groaning, fretful at the obtrusive beam That through his lattice peeped derisively. The restless miser had begun again To count his heaps; before her toilet stood The fair, and, as with guileful skill she decked Her loveliness, thought of the coming ball, New lovers, or the sweeter nuptial night. And evil men of desperate lawless life, By oath of deep damnation leagued to all Remorselessly, fled from the face of day, Against the innocent their counsel held, Plotting unpardonable deeds of blood, And villanies of fearful magnitude;

Despots, secured behind a thousand bolts,
The workmanship of fear, forged chains for man;
Senates were meeting; statesman loudly talked
Of national resources, war and peace;
And sagely balanced empires soon to end;
And faction's jaded minions, by the page
Paid for abuse, and oft repeated lies,
In daily prints, the thoroughfare of news,
For party schemes made interest, under cloak
Of liberty, and right, and public weal.
In holy conclave, bishops spoke of tithes,
And of the awful wickedness of men;
Intoxicate with sceptres, diadems,
And universal rule, and panting hard

For fame, heroes were leading on the brave
To battle; men, in science deeply read,
And academic theory, foretold

Improvements vast; and learned sceptics proved
That earth should with eternity endure;
Concluding madly that there was no God.

No sign of change appeared; to every man
That day seemed as the past. From noontide path
The sun looked gloriously on earth, and all
Her scenes of giddy folly smiled secure.
When suddenly, alas, fair Earth! the sun
Was wrapt in darkness, and his beams returned
Up to the throne of God; and over all

The earth came night, moonless and starless night.
Nature stool still;-the seas and rivers stood,
And all the winds; and every living thing.
The cataract, that like a giant wroth,
Rushed down impetuously, as seized, at once,
By sudden frost with all his hoary locks,
Stood still; and beasts of every kind stood still.
A deep and dreadful silence reigned alone!
Hope died in every breast; and on all men

Came fear and trembling; none to his neighbour spoke;

Husband thought not of wife; nor of her child
The mother; nor friend of friend; nor foe of foe
In horrible suspense all mortals stood;

And, as they stood and listened, chariots were heard
Rolling in heaven;-revealed in flaming fire,
The angel of God appeared, in stature vast,
Blazing; and, lifting up his hand on high,
By Him that lives for ever, swore that Time
Should be no more. Throughout Creation heard,
And sighed all rivers, lakes, and seas, and woods;
Desponding waste, and cultivated vale—
Wild cave, and ancient hill, and every rock,
Sighed; earth arrested in her wonted path,
As ox struck by the lifted axe, when nought
Was feared, in all her entrails deeply groaned.
A universal crash was heard, as if
The ribs of nature broke, and all her dark
Foundations failed;-and deadly paleness sate
On every face of man, and every heart
Grew chill, and every knee his fellow smote.
None spoke, nonę stirred, none wept; for horror held

All motionless, and fettered every tongue.
Again o'er all the nations silence fell:
And in the heavens, robed in excessive light,
That drove the thick of darkness far aside,
And walked with penetration keen through all
The abodes of men, another angel stood,
And blew the trump of God.—Awake, ye dead!
Be changed, ye living, and put on the garb

Of immortality! Awake; arise!

The God of judgment comes.-This said the voice;— And silence, from eternity that slept

Beyond the sphere of the creating word,

And all the noise of Time, awakening, heard. Heaven heard, and earth, and farthest hell through

all

Her regions of despair; the ear of Death Heard, and the sleep that for so long a night Pressed on his leaden eyelids, fled; and all The dead awoke, and all the living changed.

Old men, that on their staff, bending had leaned, Crazy and frail; or sat, benumbed with age, In weary listlessness, ripe for the grave, Felt through their sluggish veins and withered limbs New vigour flow;-the wrinkled face grew smooth; Upon the head that time had razored bare, Rose bushy locks; and as his son in prime Of strength and youth, the aged father stood. Changing herself, the mother saw her son Grow up, and suddenly put on the form Of manhood; and the wretch that begging sat Limbless, deformed, at the corner of the way, Unmindful of his crutch, in joint and limb Arose complete; and he that on the bed Of mortal sickness, worn with sore distress, Lay breathing forth his soul to death, felt now The tide of life and vigour rushing back; And looking up, beheld his weeping wife, And daughter fond, that o'er him bending stooped To close his eyes;-the frantic madman too, In whose confused brain reason had lost Her way, long driven at random to and fro, Grew sober, and his manacles fell off. The newly sheeted corpse arose, and stared On those who dressed it;—and the coffined dead, That men were bearing to the tomb, awoke, And mingled with their friends;-and armies, which The trump surprised, met in the furious shock Of battle, saw the bleeding ranks, new failen, Rise up at once, and to their ghastly cheeks Return the stream of life in healthy flow. And as the anatomist, with all his band Of rude disciples, o'er the subject hung, And impolitely hewed his way through bones And muscles of the sacred human form, Exposing barbarously to wanton gaze The mysteries of nature-joint embraced His kindred joint, the wounded flesh grew up, And suddenly the injured man awoke, Among their hands, and stood arrayed complete