"The silver moon at midnight cold and still, Looks sad and silent o'er yon western hill; While large and pale the ghostly structures grow, Reared on the confines of the world below. Is that dull sound the hum of Teviot's stream? Is that blue light the moon's or tomb-fire's gleam? By which a mouldering pile is faintly seen, The old deserted church of Hazeldean, Where slept my fathers in their natal clay, Till Teviot's waters rolled their bones away? Their feeble voices from their stream they raise-- 'Rash youth! unmindful of thy early days, Why didst thou quit the simple peasant's lot? Why didst thou leave the peasant's turf-built cot, The ancient graves where all thy fathers lie, And Teviot's stream that long has murmur'd by? And we, when death so long has clos'd our eyes, How wilt thou bid us from the dust arise, And bear our mouldering bones across the main. From vales that knew our lives devoid of stain? Rash youth! beware, thy home-bred virtues save, And sweetly sleep in thy paternal grave.'" After his arrival in Madras, his health became impaired, and he removed to Prince of Wales Island. He resided there some time, visiting the neighboring countries, and amassing curious information on the literature and history of the Indo-Chinese, which he embodied in an elaborate dissertation read before the Asiatic Society at Calcutta. Quitting Prince of Wales Island, Leyden was appointed a professor in the Bengal College, which he soon exchanged for the office of judge, a more lucrative employment. His spare time was devoted to the prosecution of his oriental studies. "I may die in the attempt," he wrote to a friend, "but if I die without surpassing Sir William Jones a hundredfold in oriental learning, let never a tear for me profane the eye of a borderer." In 1811 he accompanied the governor general to Java. His spirit of bold adventure led him literally to rush upon death. He threw himself into the surf in order to be the first Briton who should set foot upon Java. When the invaders had taken possession of Batavia, the same reckless eagerness took him into a cold damp library, in which were many books and manuscripts. Affected perhaps by the disease of the climate he had a fit of shivering on leaving the library, and declared that the atmosphere was enough to give any one a mortal fever. In three days after he died, August 28, 1811, on the eve of the battle which secured Java to the British Empire. Leyden's Poetical Remains were published in 1819, with a memoir. In addition to the "Scenes of Infancy," it contains some vigorous ballads. To one of these, "The Mermaid," as well as to the untimely death of its author, Sir Walter Scott has referred in his "Lord of the Isles."