But ah! what means this filence in the

grove, Where oft the wild-notes footh'd the love-fick boy? Why ceafe in Mary's bower the fongs of Love,

The fongs of Love, of Innocence, and Joy?

When bright the lake reflects the setting ray,
The sportive virgins tread the flowery green;
Here by the moon, full oft in chearful May,
The
merry bride-maids at the dance are seen.

Rut who thefe Nymphs that thro' the copfe appear
In robes of white adorn'd with violet blue?
Fondly with purple flowers they deck yon bier,

And wave in folemn pomp the boughs of yew.

Supreme in grief, her eye confus'd with woe,
Appears the Lady of th' aërial train,
Tall as the fylvan Goddess of the bow,
. And fair as the who wept Adonis flain.

Such was the pomp when Gilead's virgin band,
Wandering by Judah's flowery mountains, wept,

And with fair Iphis by the hallowed strand
Of Siloe's brook a mournful fabbath kept.

By the refplendent cross with thistles twin'd,
'Tis Mary's Guardian Genius loft in woe:
"Ah fay, what deepest wrongs have thus combin'd
"To heave with restless fighs thy breast of snow!

"Oh

"Oh stay, yê Dryads, nor unfinish'd fly
"Your folemn rites; here comes no foot profane:
"The Mufes' fon, and hallowed is his eye,

66

Implores your ftay, implores to join the strain.

"See, from her cheek the glowing life-blush flies; "Alas, what faultering founds of woe be thefe! "Ye Nymphs, who fondly watch her languid eyes, "Oh fay, what music will her foul appease!"

"Refound the folemn dirge, the Nymphs reply,
"And let the turtles moan in Mary's bower,
"Let Grief indulge her grand fublimity,

"And Melancholy wake her melting power:

"For Art has triumph'd; Art, that never ftood
"On Honour's fide, or generous tranfport knew,
"Has dy'd its haggard hands in Mary's blood,

"And o'er her fame has breath'd its blighting dew,

"But come, ye Nymphs, ye woodland Spirits, come,
"And with funereal flowers your treffes braid,
"While in this hallow'd grove we raise the tomb,
"And confecrate the fong to Mary's shade.

"O fing what fmiles her youthful morning wore,
"Her's every charm, and every lovelieft grace;
"When Nature's happiest touch could add no more,
"Heaven lent an angel's beauty to her face.
B 2

Voi, III.

"O! whether

"O! whether by the mofs-grown bushy dell,
"Where from the oak depends the misletoe,
"Where creeping ivy fhades the Druid's cell,
"Where from the rock the gurgling waters flow;

"Or whether fportive o'er the cowflip beds,

"You thro' the fairy dales of Teviot glide, "Or brush the primrose banks while Cynthia sheds "Her filvery light o'er Efk's translucent tide;

"Hither, ye gentle Guardians of the Fair,

"By Virtue's tears, by weeping Beauty, come; "Unbind the feftive robes, unbind the hair, "And wave the cypress bough at Mary's tomb.

"And come, ye fleet Magicians of the air,
"The mournful Lady of the chorus cry'd,
"Your airy tints of baleful hue prepare,

"And thro' this grove bid Mary's fortune's glide:

"And let the fong with folemn harping join'd, "And wailing notes unfold the tale of woe." She spoke, and waking thro' the breathing wind From lyres unfeen the folemn harpings flow.

The fong began, "How bright her early morn ! "What lafting joys her fmiling fate portends! "To wield the awful British scepters born,

"And Gaul's young heir her bridal-bed afcends.

See, round her bed, light-floating on the air,
"The little Loves their purple wings display;
When fudden, fhrieking at the dismal glare
❝ Of funeral torches, far they speed away.

"Far with the Loves each blissful omen fpeeds,
"Her eighteenth April hears her widow'd moan;
"The bridal bed the fable bearfe fucceeds,

"And ftruggling Factions shake her native throne.

"No more a Goddess in the swimming dance

"May't thou, O Queen, thy lovely form difplay; *No more thy beauty reign the charm of France, "Nor in Versailles proud bowers outshine the day.

"For the cold North the trembling fails are spread;
"Ah, what drear horrors gliding through thy breaft,
"While from thy weeping eyes fair Gallia fled,

"Thy future woes in boding fighs confest! a

a The unhappy Mary in her infancy was fent to France, to the care of her mother's family, the House of Guife. The French Court was at that time the gayest and most gallant of Europe. Here the Princess of Scotland was educated, with all the diftinctions due to her high rank; and, as foon as years would allow, fhe was married to the Dauphin, afterwards Francis II. On the death of this monarch, which closed a fhort reign, the politics of the Houfe of Guife required the return of the young Queen to Scotland. She left France with tears and the utmost reluctance; and on her landing in her native kingdom, the different appearance of the country awakened all her regret, and affected her with a melancholy, which feemed to forebode her future misfortunes,

"A nation ftern and ftubborn to command,
"And now convuls'd with Faction's fierceft rage,
"Commits its fcepter to thy gentle hand,
“And asks a bridle from thy tender age."

As weeping thus they fung, the omens rofe,
Her native shore receives the mournful Queen;
November wind o'er the bare landfcape blows,
In hazy gloom the fea-wave skirts the scene:

The House of Holy Roodin fullen ftate,

Bleak in the shade of rude pil'd rocks appears;
Cold on the mountain's fide, the type of fate,
Its shatter'd walls a Romish chapel rears:

No nodding grove here waves the sheltering bough;
O'er the dank vale, prophetic of her reign,
Beneath the curving mountain's craggy brow
The dreary echoes to the gales complain:

Beneath the gloomy clouds of rolling fmoke

The high pil'd city rears her Gothic towers; The ftern-brow'd caftle, from his lofty rock

Looks fcornful down, and fixt defiance lowers.b

These circumstances, defcriptive of the environs of Holy Rood House, are local. Yet, however dreary the unimproved November view may appear, the connoiffeur in gardening will perceive, that plantation, and the other efforts of art, could eafily convert the profpect into an agreeable and moft romantic fummer landscape.

Domeftic