The Poems of James Hogg the Ettrick Shepherd

d venturous swain Who dared to wake their notes again ; Yet oft thine eye has spoke delight, I marked it well, and blessed the sight; No sour disdain, nor manner cold, Noted contempt for tales of old ; Oft hast thou at the fancies smiled, And marvelled at the legends wild ; Thy task is o'er ; peace to thy heart! For thou hast acted generous part. 'Tis said that thirty bards appeared, That thirty names were registered, With whom were titled chiefs combined, But some are lost, and some declined Woe's me that all my mountain lore Has been unfit to rescue more, And that my guideless rustic skill Has told those ancient tales so ill ! The prize harp still hung on the wall; The bards were warned to leave the hall Till courtiers gave the judgment true To whom the splendid prize was due. What curious wight will pass with me The anxious motley group to see ; List their remarks of right and wrong, Of skilful hand and faulty song, And drink one glass the bards among ? There sit the men?behold them there Made maidens quake and courtiers stare, Whose names shall future ages tell; What do they seem ? behold them well ! A simpler race you shall not see, Awkward and vain as men can be ; Light as the fumes of fervid wine, Or foam-bells floating on the brine, The gossamers in air that sail, Or down that dances in the gale. Each spoke of other's fame and skill With high applause but jealous will. Each song, each strain, he erst had known, And all had faults except his... --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.