Page:Scotland's skaith, or, The history o' Will and Jean.pdf/19

 19 Doctors cur'd wi' healing art: Cur'd-alas,--but never--never, Cool'd the fever at his heart. For when a' ware sound and sleeping, Still and on, baith ear' and late, Will in briny grief lay steeping, Mourning owre his happless fate. A' his gowden prospects vanished.- A' his dreams o' warlike fame, A' his glittering phantons vanish'd, Will cou'd think o neught but.-HAME. Think o' nought but rural quiet, Rural labour-rural plays, Far frae carnage, bluid, and riot, WAR, and a' its murdering joys. PART III. Back to Britain's fertile garden WILL's return'd (exchang'd for faes). Vi' ae leg, and no ae farden, Friend, or credit, meat, or claise. Lang thro' country, burgh, and city, Crippling on a wooden leg, Gathering alms frae melting pity : See poor Gairlace forc'd to-beg. Plac'd at length on CHELSEA's bounty, Now no langer beg thinks shame, Dreams ance mair o'smiling plenty Dreams o' former joys, and hame! Hame, and a' its fond attractions Fast to Will's warm bosom flee ; While the thoughts o' dear connections Swell his heart, and blind his e'e.-