80 MEMORIAL TRIBUTE 



A Copy of the following Lines having been found in Dr. Barclay's 

 desk after his death, his friends have expressed a wish to have 

 them printed, on account of the simile contained in them. For 

 this reason, and not for any supposed intrinsic merit, they are 

 subjoined ; and with the more propriety, that they were composed 

 by the author of the foregoing pages. They form part of an 

 unfinished poem ; and were suggested by a midnight walk on a 

 .sandy beach of one of the remote Hebrides. 



The midnight hour, 

 Solemn and still, but placid and serene ; 

 Calm as the pale and lovely face of Virtue, 

 When the glad spirit meditates her flight 

 From her material mansion, and the voice 

 Of Hope pours on the ear the melody of Heaven — 

 The smooth expanse of ocean, when the wind, 

 Wearied with blustering, sleeps upon its bosom ; 

 The ripple of the wavelet on the shore. 

 Scarce loud enough to break the calm profound ; 

 The dim-discover'd mountains of the east, 

 That overhang, in soften'd majesty. 

 The deep — oh ! these have charms that well might woo 

 The contemplative mind to Midnight's bower. 



