Page:Verses to the memory of Robert Burns.pdf/3



ET musing Melancholy drop a tear,

And gay fantastic Humour heave a sigh;

Let no unhallow'd hand approach the bier,

Where low in death his sacred reliques lie.

, blest with native vigour struck the lyre:

Each heart assenting, felt the magic sound;

To soothe the foul the pleasing notes conspire;

From hill and dale the heavenly notes rebound.

Alive to joy, while joy was on the wing;

To playful mirth, to humour void of art;

'Twas Nature's self that taught her bard to sing

The song of joy, pour'd genuine from the heart.

For Genius gone let Scotia melt in tears:

Her darling son no more shall soothe her woes,

No more pay hope excite,—dispel her fears,

Or tuneful sing her sorrows to repose.

The soul of harmony, the plaintive strain

Fall sweetly pleasing on the ravish'd ear,

Nor let unmov'd the hardest heart remain:-

In silence drop the softly trickling tear.