FIRST BARD. NIGHT is dull and dark, From the tree at the grave of the dead, I see a dim form on the plain, From the lowly hut of the hill 2 No star with twinkling beam; No moon looks from the skies.] An imitation explained by the Night piece. And not a moon to light my way. No friendly star with golden eye Looks from the cieling of the sky. From POPE's Thebais of Statius, i. 520. ; infra, ". When clouds conceal Bootes' golden wain; Nor trembling Cynthia glimmers o'er the deeps. In the second copy, "No star with green-trembling beam; no moon looks from the sky." 3 The lonely screech-owl groans.] In modern poetry, BLAIR's Grave, and GRAY'S inimitable Elegy, had rendered the screech-owl a familiar image; but our translator, the very demon of poetry, seems to have discovered the original in Virgil. En. iv. 462. FIRST BARD. NIGHT is dull and dark. The clouds rest on the hills. No star with green-trembling beam; no moon looks from the sky. I hear the blast in the wood; bnt I hear it distant far. The stream of the valley murmurs; but its murmur is sullen and sad. From the tree at the grave of the dead the long howling owl is heard. I see a dim form on the plain! It is a ghost! it fades, it flies. Some funeral shall pass this way: the meteor marks the path. Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo Limitated by Gray. Save where from yonder ivy-mantled tower Of such as wandering near her secret bower, DRYDEN. In the copy subjoined to Croma, "The lonely screech-owl groans," (Solaque culminibus, &c.) was altered to "The long-howling owl is heard," from the original, "Hourly 'tis heard," et longas in fletum ducere voces ; and Gray, who derived his ivy-mantled tower from the turret's height; "the moping owl complains," from " Solaque culminibus-bubo sæpe queri ;" and " her solitary reign," from "The solitary screech-owl," had some reason to exclaim, "In short, this man is the very demon of poetry, or he has lighted upon a treasure hid for ages." GRAY's Works, iv. 59. n. 12mo. 4 Some dead shall pass this way.] The additional image in the second version, "The meteor marks the path," is from THOMSON's Autumn. The meteor sits and shews the narrow path. VOL. II. 2 D The distant dog is howling; The stag lies by the mountain-well, The hind is at his side; She hears the wind in his horns, She starts, but lies again. The roe is in the cleft of the rock: The heath-cock's head beneath his wing. No beast, no bird is abroad, But the owl, and the howling fox; She on the leafless tree, He on the cloudy hill 5. Dark, panting, trembling, sad, The traveller has lost his way; He fears the rock and the pool, She on the leafless tree, He on the cloudy hill.] The owl and the howling dog were already abroad; but the howling fox is a beautiful repetition, from Windsor Forest, (Carthon) and the progressive improvement of the imagery is observable. "She on a leafless tree; he in a cloud on the hill." • Dark, panting, trembling, sad, The traveller has lost his way.] THOMSON'S Winter. Lone on the midnight steep, and all aghast, The dark, wayfaring stranger breathless toils. 7 He fears the rock and the pool, He fears the ghost of the night.] POPE's Thebais of Statius, 524. supra, 2. The stag She hears The distant dog is howling from the hut of the hill. lies on the mountain moss: the hind is at his side. the wind in his branchy horns. She starts, but lies again. The roe is in the cleft of the rock; the heath-cock's head is beneath his wing. No beast, no bird is abroad, but the owl and the howling fox. the hill. She on a leafless tree; he in a cloud on Dark, panting, trembling, sad, the traveller has lost his way. Through shrubs, through thorns, he goes, along the gurgling rill. He fears the rock and the fen. He fears the ghost of night. The old tree groans to the blast; the falling branch resounds. The wind drives the withered burs, clung together, along the grass. It is the light tread of a ghost! He trembles amidst the night. Dark, dusky, howling, is the night, cloudy, windy, and full So fares a sailor on the stormy main, &c. He dreads the rocks, and shoals, and seas, and skies, The old tree groans to the blast; The falling branch resounds.] Antenn æque gemant. HoR. Highlander, ii. 112. Fd. iii. 129. The tapering firs, the elms, the aged oaks,→ Thus on some night when sable tempests roar, The watchman, wearying of his lonely hour, Hears some rent branch to squeak 'twixt every blast, But in each ruder gust the creak is lost. 9 The wind drives the clung thorn Along the sighing grass.] In the second version, "The withered burs, elung together, along the grass:" from POPE's Odyssey, v. 417. a frequent imitation. See Cath-loda, i. 2. As when a heap of gather'd thorns is cast, Cloudy, windy, and full of ghosts; Here, SECOND BARD. THE wind is up on the mountain ; He falls, he shrieks, he dies 12. The storm drives the horse from the hill, They tremble as drives the shower, And look for the shade of the stall 13. The wind is up on the mountain ;— Woods groan and windows clap.] BLAIR's Grave. The wind is up, hark! how it howls! Methinks Till now I never heard a sound so dreary. Doors creak, and windows clap. The wind is up on the mountain," is a substitute for "The spirit of the mountain shrieks;" which was suppressed in the copies transmitted to Gray and Shenstone, as a dangerous imitation of HOME's Douglas. See Dar-thula ". Red came the river down, and loud and oft The angry spirit of the waters shrieked. "The growing river roars.] From that and THOMSON's Autumn. Tumultuous roar, and high above its banks 12 The traveller attempts the ford, He falls, he shrieks, he dies.] THOMSON's Autumn: supra, |