REN Ee ol EE ee 
POETRY. 
LARGO BAY. 
For the Bee. 
The following Jittle poem having been foewnto a friend, he thought it a pit) 
that a youthful efsay pofsefsing so much: merit, foould be supprefsed merely on 
account of its length; on bisentreatyibe Editor bas resolved to insert the 
wwbolz, though a few lines of it had been admitted into a former number of 
this work. 
\ 
Tuy mountain, Largo, and thy spacious bay, 
Invite the muse.—Awake my humble lay ! 
With larks awake, and join the morning song ; 
To them the notes,—to thee the words belong. 
Yon gilded canopy, and orient beams, 
In radiant pomp the rising sun proclaims ; 
Tree, bufh, and flew’r reflect the glorious blaze,. 
Ten thousasd dew-drops variegate the rays 5 
Ten thousand birds, rejoicing at tHe sight, 
Spring from their nests, to praise the god of light ; 
Enlighten’d nature the strong impulse feels, 
The great machine move; all her living wheels, 
From yonder village spiral columns rise 
OF tow’ring smoke; —far higher in the fkies 
Tow’rs Largo Law ;—a mighty cone, whose base 
Five hundred acres spread ; whose summits graze 
‘Five hundred fheep.—That summit could we gain, 
To view thedistant hills, th’ adjacent plain, 
The boundlefs ocean and the bounded bay, 
With all the windings of the Forth and Tay, 
How wou’d my muse, transported at the sight, 
-O’er the gay landscape wing her raptur’d flight ! 
-Ev’n now bhe feels the hill’s attractive pow’r, 
A minute gains the travel of an hour. 
Our steps the heath elastic scarcely bend, 
And clouds retire as we the hill ascend: 
The summit gain’d :—hail! glorious prospect, hail ! 
‘Hail each blue mountain, every verdant vale! 
There Grampian hills the compact range extend, 
Guard of the North, thy Caledon defend 
Wor England’s force, nor all that Rome e’er knew, 
Or Scandinavia, could thy sons subdue}; 
WUnconquer’d still thy Caledon remains, 
Firm are her mountains, rich her fertile plains : 
And thou, sweet Tay, in silent windings flow, 
Reflect the hills, refreth the plains below ; 
A thousand riv’lets follow in thy train, 
To pay their tribute to the German main ; 
The German main yon bow of azure forms 
In eastern pomp, triumphal arch of storms ! 
Pedestals firm the swelling segment bound ; 
This rests on Scottifh, that on Engiith ground. 
There Chevoit mountains, like to clouds of mist, 
Rise in the south, proud of their sable crest : 
