And teach pleased Echo to complain. With you roses brighter bloom, Sweeter every sweet perfume, Purer every fountain flows, Stronger every wilding grows. Let those toil for gold who please, Or for fame renounce their ease. What is fame? an empty bubble. Gold? a transient shining trouble. Let them for their country bleed, What was Sidney's, Raleigh's meed? Man's not worth a moment's pain, Base, ungrateful, fickle, vain. Then let me, sequestered fair, To your sibyl grot repair; On yon hanging cliff it stands, Scooped by nature's salvage hands, Bosomed in the gloomy shade Of cypress not with age decayed. Where the owl still-hooting sits, Where the bat incessant flits, There in loftier strains I'll sing Whence the changing seasons spring, Tell how storms deform the skies, Whence the waves subside and rise, Trace the comet's blazing tail, Weigh the planets in a scale; Bend, great God, before thy shrine, The bournless macrocosm's thine. * * * * * MICHAEL BRUCE. We refer our readers to Dr Mackelvie's well-known and very able Life of poor Bruce, for his full story, and for the evidence on which his claim to the 'Cuckoo' is rested. Apart from external evidence, we think that poem more characteristic of Bruce's genius than of Logan's, and have therefore ranked it under Bruce's name. Bruce was born on the 27th of March 1746, at Kinnesswood, parish of Portmoak, county of Kinross. His father was a weaver, and Michael was the fifth of a family of eight children.