And little reck I of the censure sharp

May idly cavil at an idle lay.

Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way,
Through secret woes the world has never known,
When on the weary night dawn'd wearier day,

And bitterer was the grief devoured alone.
That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress! is thine own.

Hark! as my lingering footsteps slow retire,
Some Spirit of the air has waked thy string!
'Tis now a Seraph bold, with touch of fire,
'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing.
Receding now, the dying numbers ring

Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell-
And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring
A wandering witch-note of the distant spell.
And now, 'tis silent all!-Enchantress, fare-thee-well!

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

SCOTTISH BALLAD.*

It was a' for our rightfu' king

We left fair Scotland's strand;

It was a' for our rightfu' king

We e'er saw Irish land, my dear,
We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,
And a' is done in vain ;

My love and native land, fareweel,
For I maun cross the main, my dear,
For I maun cross the main.

I turn'd me right and round about
Upon the Irish shore,

An' ga'e my bridle-reins a shake,

With Adieu for evermore, my dear,'
With Adieu for evermore.'

The sodger frae the wars returns,
The sailor frae the main ;

But I hae parted frae my love,

Never to meet again, my dear,
Never to meet again.

When day is gane an' night is come,

An' a' folk bound in sleep,

O think on him that's far awa',

The lee-lang night, an' weep, my dear,

The lee-lang night, an' weep.

The author of this ballad is said to be Captain Ogilvie of the house of Inverquharity, who accompanied the deposed Jas. II. to Ireland and France,

MELROSE ABBEY.

OUR readers have here a view of Melrose Abbey, as restored by Mr Kemp, from authentic data.* We subjoin an account of this interesting place from Mr Chambers' Picture of Scotland.

Upon the southern bank of the Tweed, stand the ruins of the celebrated abbey of Melrose, surrounded by the little village of the same name. The ruins of this ancient monastery, or rather of the church connected with it, (for the domestic buildings are entirely gone,) afford the finest specimen of Gothic architecture and Gothic sculpture of which this country can boast. By singular good fortune, Melrose is also one of the most entire, as it is the most beautiful, of all the ecclesiastical ruins scattered throughout this reformed land. To say that it is beautiful, is to say nothing. It is exquisitely-splendidly lovely. It is an object possessed of infinite grace and unmeasurable charm; it is fine in its general aspect and in its minutest details; it is a study-a glory. The beauty of Melrose, however, is not a healthful ordinary beauty:

So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,

We start, for soul is wanting there.

Its is the loveliness in death,

That parts not quite with parting breath;
But beauty with that fearful bloom,

That hue which haunts it to the tomb.

Its is not the beauty of summer, but the melancholy grace of autumn; not the beauty of a blooming bride, but that of a pining and death-stricken maiden. It is not that this is a thing of perfect splen

* "In attempting a restored view of Melrose Abbey," says Mr Kemp, "my aim has been to adhere strictly to the original details, as far as I could trace them out. Of all the windows seen in the view, the tracery is either entire, or in such a state of preservation, that a slight acquaintance with Gothic architecture renders it an easy task to make out the original design. A small portion of the parapet above the east window is still complete, and a few of the niches are still enriched with their original statues. The staircase on the north corner of the north transept is much destroyed, but I have finished it with a turret resembling the one on the west side of the south transept, which is still entire. One side of the centre tower still remains. The ornamented turrets, furnished with crocketted pinnacles, which enrich its parapet, are the only example of the kind I have seen. Two of the turrets still remain on the west corners of the tower, and one of the pinnacles lies in a garden adjoining the abbey. The west tower, slightly seen in the distance, and part of the spire, are the only parts for which I have not sufficient data; but they are compositions from the details of the building which appear most promiBert in the view."

dour that we admire it, but because it is a fragment which only represents or shadows forth a matchless whole which has been, and whose merits we are, from this shattered specimen, completely disposed to allow.

Melrose Abbey was first built by David I. in the year 1136, dedicated to St Mary, and devoted to the use of a body of Cistercian monks. The church, which alone remains, measures 287 feet in length, and 157 at the greatest breadth. It is built in the most ornate style of the Gothic architecture, and therefore decorated with an infinite variety of sculptures, most of which are exquisitely fine. While the western extremity of the building is entirely ruined and removed, the eastern and more important parts are fortunately in a state of tolerable preservation : in particular, the oriel window, and that which surmounts the south door, both alike admirable, are almost entire. It is also matter of great thankfulness, that a good many of the shapely pillars for the support of the roof are still extant. It is to these objects that the attention of travellers is chiefly directed.

It is not to the zeal of reformers alone that the desecration of our best old religious buildings is to be attributed. The enthusiasm of individuals in more recent times has sometimes done that which the reformers left undone; as is testified by a notorious circumstance told by the person who shows Melrose. On the eastern window of the church, there were formerly thirteen effigies, supposed to represent our Saviour and his apostles.* These, harmless and beautiful as they were, happened to provoke the wrath of a praying weaver in Gattonside, who, in a moment of inspired zeal, went up one night by means of a ladder, and with a hammer and chisel, knocked off the heads and limbs of the figures. Next morning he made no scruple to publish the transaction, observing with a great deal of exultation, to every person whom he met, that he had "fairly stumpet thae vile paipist dirt nou!" The people sometimes catch up a remarkable word when uttered on a remarkable occasion by one of their number, and turn the utterer into ridicule, by attaching it to him as a nickname; and it is some consolation to think that this monster was therefore treated with the sobriquet of " Stumpie," and of course carried it about with him to his grave.

It would require a distinct volume to do justice to the infinite details of Melrose Abbey; for the whole is built in a style of such elaborate ornament, that almost every foot-breadth has its beauty, and every beauty is worthy of notice. I shall content myself with merely

* In the drawing of Melrose Abbey in Slezer's Theatrum Scotia, the niches are all filled with statues. Slezer took his drawings early in the reign of king William.