Where tuneful Tweed meandering rolls along, Thro' verdant vales renown'd in pastoral song; Thy power inspir'd a Druid to proclaim, With music's voice, fair Truth's unsullied fame. The laurel twin'd with flowers that brightest blow, A dazzling wreath compos'd to shade his brow. With scanning eye he travers'd Nature's sphere, Marking her motions thro' the varying year; With Fancy's pencil heighten'd Summer's bloom, And doubly deepened Winter's awful gloom. As the early lark high carols 'midst the skies, While yet the world below in slumber lies; So he first wak'd his rich descriptive strain, Unseen, unheeded on his native plain. Against his breast Misfortune aim'd her dart, Forc'd him to fly, with anxious heavy heart, Imploring refuge in a distant land, For help dependent on a stranger's hand. Long wandering wild, pursued by gulling Care, Till verging nigh the brink of dark Despair, Kind Pity lent at last a twinkling ray, And led him back from dungeons to the day. Yet urgent Want could ne'er his soul incline, By serving Gain to shame the Muse divine: Virtue and Truth he followed unrestrain'd, Till, Fate subdued, a spotless palm he gain'd.
