Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

320
Within, around, the vast excess
Of mighty forest wilderness,
He spent his toilsome lonely hours,
And, leagued with science, trained his powers;
Till, as with magic's touch the while.
Endeared instruction sprang to view,
Dress'd in young painting's rainbow smile,
Of many a lovely blending hue.
The muse which he in youth had woo'd,
Solaced him still in solitude ;
And with a richer, purer fire,
Gave lustre to his desert lyre.
Harj) of the wilderness, how I
With pure and unfeigned love deliglit
Through ux^jter air with thee to hie,
And mark the wheeling eagle's flight.
Bard of my heart, thy day hath sped,
Thy course is o'er, thy spirit fled ;
Ere yet thy fame had well begun,
Thy toilsome, bright career was run.
Farewell, thy graphic pencil rests;
Farewell, thy forest lyre is mute;
Farewell, but never from our breasts,
Thy cherish'd mem'ry shall we root.
Then say not it is weak or vain,
To bid the monumental fane,
With richly sculptured beauty, rise,
In honour of the worth we prize,
For spirits love to hover round.
And mental influence soft impart
To spots of consecrated ground,
Made dear and sacred to the heart.