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MARMION.

Jntroduction to Canto Second.

TO

THE REV. JOHN MARRIOT, M. A.

Ashestiel, Ettricke Forest.

The scenes are desart now and bare,

Where flourished once a forest fair,
When these waste glens with copse were lined,
And peopled with the hart and hind,
Yon thorn-perchance whose prickly spears
Have fenced hiin for three hundred years,
While fell around his green compeers—
Yon lonely thorn, would he could tell
The changes of his parent dell,

Since he, so grey and stubborn now,
Waved in each breeze a sapling bough ;
Would he could tell how deep the shade,
A thousand mingled branches made;
How broad the shadows of the oak,
How clung the rowan * to the rock,
And through the foliage shewed his head,
With narrow leaves, and berries red;
What pines on every mountain sprung,
O’er every dell what birches hung,
In every breeze what aspens shook,
What alders shaded every brook!

Here, in my shade," methinks he'd say, “ The mighty stag at noontide lay: The wolf I've seen, a fiercer game, (The neighbouring dingle bears his name,) With lurching step around me prowl, And stop against the moon to howl;

• Mountain-ash.

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