loS fOETkri Sdpt iS, 



Wliirl'd by the ftorms of vernal ftrife I 

 While nurtur'd hi fome vale obfcure, 

 The humbler fair-one blooms fecure, 



The miflrefs and the wife. 



But late, in ftrength and beauty's prime, 



The towering plane arofe ; 

 Proud o'er Stirlina's height fublime 

 It wavM its mantling boughs ; 

 At eve, when Vefper gilds her ftar, 

 The trav'ller fpied it from afar, 



And, raptur'd, wonder'd where it grew; 

 Fond fancy plac'd its magic height 

 'Midft regions flreak'd with golden light, 



And flcies of azure hue I 



1 Embofom'd in the bank below 



That courts the fouthern breeze, 

 The humbler hawthorn's doom'd to blow 



'Mid kindred fhrubs and trees : 

 Obfcure, it drinks its balmy dews, 

 Unmark'd, fave by the moral Mufe 



That nightly breathes its rich perfume. — 

 How weak is Grandeur'^s empty £hew ! 

 Ambition, mark ! — the plane's laid low I * 

 The hawthorn's left to bloom. 



Written on the Spaiv called St Bernard's Well, 

 jiear Edinburgh, on Lord Gardenjlour^s Birth- 

 day, 24th June 1790, by an American Lady* 



Charm'd with fuoh ails as mercy's felf may claim, 

 Afts that will fpread thro' time thy deathlefs name ; 

 Oh ! Garden, e'en the ftranger's humble mufe, 

 Thus llrongly charm'd, will not her aid refufe, 



* The cutting down of this beautiful tree, which gave uni- 

 verfal diffatisfaftion, occafioned the prcfent Ode. 



