ΤΟ GEORGE ELLIS, Esq. Edinburgh. WHEN dark December glooms the day, And takes our autumn joys away; When short and scant the sun-beam throws, Upon the weary waste of snows, A cold and profitless regard, Like patron on a needy bard; When sylvan occupation's done, And o'er the chimney rests the gun, And hang, in idle trophy, near, The game-pouch, fishing-rod, and spear; When wiry terrier, rough and grim, And darkling politician, crossed, Inveighs against the lingering post, And answering house-wife sore complains Of carriers' snow-impeded wains: When such the country cheer, I come, Well pleased, to seek our city home; For converse, and for books, to change The Forest's melancholy range, And welcome, with renewed delight, The busy day, and social night. Not here need my desponding rhyme Lament the ravages of time, As erst by Newark's riven towers, And Ettricke stripped of forest bowers.* True, Caledonia's Queen is changed, Since on her dusky summit ranged, By bulwark, line, and battlement, And flanking towers, and laky flood, Denying entrance or resort, Save at each tall embattled port; Portcullis spiked with iron prong. That long is gone, but not so long, *See Introduction to Canto II. Since, early closed, and opening late, Jealous revolved the studded gate; Whose task from eve to morning tide Stern then, and steel-girt was thy brow, Not she, the championess of old, In Spenser's magic tale enrolled,- I What time she was Malbecco's guest,* Free to the sight her bosom heaved; And down her shoulders graceful rolled They who whilome, in midnight fight, Had marvelled at her matchless might, And he, the wandering Squire of Dames, Forgot his Columbella's claims, And passion, erst unknown, could gain * See "The Fairy Queen," Book III. Canto IX. SPENSER, as above. |