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To the plains of Quebec with the orders I flow, Wolfe begged for a moments delar, He cry'd, 'Oh forbear! let me victory hear, And then the command I'll obey.' With a dark sing film I encompaſs-w his eyes, And bore him away in a urn; Leſt the fondneſs he bore to his own native ſhore; Might temps him again to return.“

Macgregor Aurora

FROM the choſe of the mountain, as I was returning, y the ſide of a fountain Maluna ſat mourning, o the winds that loud whiſtled ſhe told her ſad ſtory, nd the rail as re-echo'd, Macgregor Aurara.

ike a flaſh of red lightning, o'er the heath came M'Ara, ore flect than the ree-buck on the lofty Benbarra: h! where is Mcgregor ſay, where does he hover; ou ſon of bold-, why tarrice my lover?

bu the voice of ſoft ſorrow from his boſom thus founded; ow lies your Macgreger, pale, mangled, and wounded. overcome with ſweet ſumber, to a rock I convey'd here the ſons of black malice to his foes have betray'd him.

the bleſt of the mountain ſoon nips the freſh bloſſom. died the fair bud of fond hope in her boſom;