Page:Beauties of Burn's poems.pdf/60

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And mak his cottage-scenes beguile
His cares and pains.

Some, bounded to a district space,
Explore at large Man's infant race,
To mark the embryotic trace
Of rustic Bard:
And careful note each op'ning grace,
A guide and guard.

Of these I am—Coila my name;
And these districts as mine I claim,
Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame,
Held ruling pow'r;
I mark'd thy embryo tunefu' flame,
Thy natal hour.

With future hope I oft would gaze,
Fond, on thy little early ways,
Thy rudely-caroll'd chiming phrase,
In uncouth rhymes,
Fir'd at the simple, artless lays
Of other times.

I saw thee seek the sounding shore,
Delighted with the dashing roar!
Or when the North his fleecy store
Drove thro' the sky,
I saw grim Nature's visage hoar
Struck thy young eye,

Or when the deep green-mantled Earth
Warm cherish'd every flow'ret's birth,
And joy and music pouring forth
In every grove,