“They Scotia's race among them share: Some fire the soldier on to dare; Some rouse the patriot up to bare Corruption's heart: Some teach the bard--a darling care-- The tuneful art.
“'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, They, ardent, kindling spirits pour;
[Footnote 10: Colonel Fullarton.--R.B. This gentleman had travelled under the care of Patrick Brydone, author of a well-known “Tour Through Sicily and Malta.”]
Or, 'mid the venal senate's roar, They, sightless, stand, To mend the honest patriot-lore, And grace the hand.
“And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild poetric rage In energy, Or point the inconclusive page Full on the eye.
“Hence, Fullarton, the brave and young; Hence, Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue; Hence, sweet, harmonious Beattie sung His 'Minstrel lays'; Or tore, with noble ardour stung, The sceptic's bays.
“To lower orders are assign'd The humbler ranks of human-kind, The rustic bard, the lab'ring hind, The artisan; All choose, as various they're inclin'd, The various man.
“When yellow waves the heavy grain, The threat'ning storm some strongly rein; Some teach to meliorate the plain With tillage-skill; And some instruct the shepherd-train, Blythe o'er the hill.
“Some hint the lover's harmless wile; Some grace the maiden's artless smile; Some soothe the lab'rer's weary toil For humble gains, And make 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 opening grace, A guide and guard.
“Of these am I--Coila my name: And this district as mine I claim, Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame, Held ruling power: I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful 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 ev'ry floweret's birth, And joy and music pouring forth In ev'ry grove; I saw thee eye the general mirth With boundless love.