Now's the day and now's the hour;
See the front of battle lower,

See approach proud Edward's power,
Chains and slavery!

Who would be a traitor knave?
Who would fill a coward's grave?
Who so base as be a slave?

Let him turn and flee!

Who for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,-
Freeman stand or freeman fall?
Let him on with me!

By oppression's woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,-
"We will drain our dearest veins
But they shall be free."

Lay the proud usurpers low;
Tyrants fall in every foe,
Liberty's in every blow,-

"Let us door die."

Softness or faintness of utterance:

The heavens are all blue; and the billow's bright verge

Is frothily laved by a whispering surge,
That heaves incessant a tranquil dirge,
To lull the pale forms that sleep below:-
Forms that rock as the waters flow.

That bright lake is still as a liquid sky:
And when o'er its bosom the swift clouds fly
They pass like thoughts o'er a clear, blue eye.
The fringe of thin foam that their sepulchre binds,
Is as light as the clouds that are borne by the winds.
Soft over its bosom the dim vapours hover
In morning's first light: and the snowy-wing'd
plover,

That skims o'er the deep

Where my loved ones sleep,

No note of joy on this solitude flings;

Nor shakes the mist from its drooping wings.

Low pitch of utterance:

1. The curfew tolls,-the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape from the sight,

And all the air a solemn stillness holds,

Save where the beetle wheels his drony flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.

2. An everlasting hill was torn

From its primeval base, and borne,
In gold and crimson vapours drest,
To where a people are at rest.—
Slowly it came in its mountain wrath;
And the forests vanish'd before its path;

And the rude cliffs bowed; and the waters fled;
And the living were buried, while over their head
They heard the full march of their foe as he sped ;-
And the valley of life was the tomb of the dead,
The mountain sepulchre of all I lov'd!

The village sank; and the giant trees

Lean'd back from the encountering breeze,
As this tremendous pageant mov'd.

The mountain forsook his perpetual throne,
And came down in his pomp: and his path is shown
In barrenness and ruin;-there

His ancient mysteries lie bare;
His rocks in nakedness arise;
His desolations mock the skies.

High pitch:

1. Come forth, O ye children of gladness, come!
Where the violets lie, may be now your home.
Ye of the rose lip, and the dew-bright eye,
And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly!
With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay,
Come forth to the sunshine!—I may not stay.

2. Come hither, hither, my litle page;
Why dost thou weep and wail?
Or dost thou dread the billow's rage,
Or tremble at the gale?

But dash the tear-drop from thine eye;
Our ship is swift and strong:
Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly
More merrily along.

3. Stay, lady-stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale:
Ah! sure my looks must pity wake-
"Tis want that makes my cheek so pale!
Yet I was once a mother's pride,

And my brave father's hope and joy:
But in the Nile's proud fight he died-
And I am now an orphan boy.

Poor, foolish child; how pleased was I,
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,

To see the lighted windows flame!
To force me home my mother sought-
She could not bear to see my joy!
For with my father's life 'twas bought--
And made me a poor orphan boy!

Slow rate of utterance:

1. Here rests his head, upon the lap of earth,

A youth to fortune and to fame unknown;Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth; And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty and his soul sincere; Heaven did a recompense as largely send; He gave to misery all he had-a tear;

He gain'd from heaven-'t was all he wished,a friend.

No further seek his merits to disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their. dread abode ;There they alike in trembling hope repose,

The bosom of his Father and his God.

2. O Thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! whence are thy beams, O Sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky; the

But

moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. thou thyself movest above! Who can be a companion of thy course? The oaks of the mountains fall: the mountains themselves decay with years: the ocean shrinks and grows again: the moon herself is lost in the heavens: but thou art for ever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course. When the world is dark with tempests, when thunder rolls, and lightning flies, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm.-But to Ossian thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more, whether thy yellow hair floats on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season; thy years will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning. Exult then, O Sun! in the strength of thy youth;-Age is dark and unlovely it is like the glimmering light of the moon, when it shines through broken clouds, and the mist is on the hills; when the blast of the north is on the plain, and the traveller shrinks in the midst of his Journey.

Rapid rate of utterance:

1. Come, thou nymph! and bring with thee
Mirth and youthful Jollity;

Quips and cranks and wanton wiles;
Nods and becks and wreathed smiles;
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek:
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,

And Laughter holding both his sides:
Come, and trip it as ye go

On the light fantastic toe;

And in thy right hand bring with thee
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.

2. But, Oh! how altered was its sprightlier tone, When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung,

Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew,

Blew an inspiring air that dale and thicket rung!
The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known.

The oak-crown'd Sisters, and their chaste-eyed

Queen,

Satyrs and sylvan boys, were seen,

Peeping from forth their alleys green:
Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear;

And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear.
3. And there was mounting in hot haste:-the steed,
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
While the deep thunder, peal on peal, afar,
And near, the beat of the alarming drum,
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While throng the citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering with white lips, "The foe!—they
come-they come."

4. Forth from the pass in tumult driven,
Like chaff before the winds of heaven,
The archery appear:-

For life, for life their flight they ply,
While shriek and shout and battle-cry,
And plaids and bonnets waving high,
And broadswords flashing to the sky,
Are maddening in their rear.

Middle pitch, moderate force and rate:

1. Beneath a mountain's brow, the most remote
And inaccessible by shepherds trod,

In a deep cave, dug by no mortal hand,
A hermit lived; a melancholy man,

Who was the wonder of our wandering swains.
Austere and lonely, cruel to himself,

Did they report him; the cold earth his bed,
Water his drink, his food the shepherd's alms.
I went to see him; and my heart was touch'd
With reverence and with pity. Mild he spake;
And, entering on discourse, such stories told,
As made me oft revisit his sad cell,

For he had been a soldier in his youth;
And fought in famous battles, when the peers
Of Europe, by the bold Godfredo led
Against the usurping infidel, display'd