"LOCHABAR NO MORE."
["The Scotch are celebrated for their attachment to their national airs. I have somewhere read an incident of a couple of Scotchmen, who being wrecked on the shores of South America, were compelled to remain there some length of time, owing to their not being able to obtain a passage home. When, at length, this difficulty was obviated, one of them, having become captivated by the people of the country and their indolent manner of living, determined on remaining. His companion made no effort to persuade him from this decision. Seating himself by his side, he began, in a low and plaintive tone, that most touching of all their native melodies, "Lochabar no more." As the song proceeded, the listener became evidently much affected, and by the time it was concluded, his face was bathed in tears. It was enough—he left the Eldorado of his dreams, and returned to lay his bones beside those of his kindred."]
That would not rest again,
Till all unclosed his spirit's eyes:
Came with that sudden strain
The echo of returning feet,
Voice of familiar song,
The hearth-stone, the accustomed seat,
And friends remembered long.
Call at the eventide;
He saw the white clouds, fringed with gold,
Move on in fleecy pride.
