The dewy ground was dark and cold; Behind, all gloomy to behold; 10 And stepping westward seem'd to be A kind of _heavenly_ destiny; I liked the greeting; 'twas a sound Of something without place or bound; And seem'd to give me spiritual right To travel through that region bright. The voice was soft, and she who spake Was walking by her native Lake: The salutation had to me The very sound of courtesy: 20 It's power was felt; and while my eye Was fixed upon the glowing sky, The echo of the voice enwrought A human sweetness with the thought Of travelling through the world that lay Before me in my endless way. 4. _GLEN-ALMAIN_, or the NARROW GLEN In this still place, remote from men, Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN; In this still place, where murmurs on But one meek Streamlet, only one: He sang of battles, and the breath Of stormy war, and violent death; And should, methinks, when all was past, Have rightfully been laid at last Where rocks were sudely heap'd, and rent As by a spirit turbulent; 10 Where sights were rough, and sounds were wild, And every thing unreconciled; In some complaining, dim retreat, For fear and melancholy meet; But this is calm; there cannot be A more entire tranquillity. Does then the Bard sleep here indeed? Or is it but a groundless creed? What matters it? I blame them not Whose Fancy in this lonely Spot 20 Was moved; and in this way express'd Their notion of its perfect rest. A Convent, even a hermit's Cell Would break the silence of this Dell: It is not quiet, is not ease; But something deeper far than these: The separation that is here Is of the grave; and of austere And happy feelings of the dead: And, therefore, was it rightly said 30 That Ossian, last of all his race! Lies buried in this lonely place. 5. _THE MATRON OF JEDBOROUGH AND HER HUSBAND_. At Jedborough we went into private Lodgings for a few days; and the following Verses were called forth by the character, and domestic situation, of our Hostess. Age! twine thy brows with fresh spring flowers! And call a train of laughing Hours; And bid them dance, and bid them sing; And Thou, too, mingle in the Ring! Take to thy heart a new delight; If not, make merry in despite! For there is one who scorns thy power. --But dance! for under Jedborough Tower There liveth in the prime of glee, A Woman, whose years are seventy-three, 10 And She will dance and sing with thee!