On hearing some of Walter Scott's Poems recited by Mr. E*****, Advocate, Edinburgh

Oft has my soul in rapt attention hung,Oh! northern harp! upon thy witch-notes wild;Harp! by the Muse of Caledonia strung,And giv'n alone to Scott, her darling child!

The Poet's fame, to time's remotest age,Till taste and genius the wide world forsake,Shall glow undying in thy deathless page,Renown'd, and matchless "Lady of the Lake!"

And still I deem'd that nothing could bestowSuch soothing pleasure on my pensive breast,As o'er thy page to let the tear-drop flow,Glow with delight, or sink with fears oppress'd.

Till E * * * * *, e'en to thy immortal verse,Such unimagin'd loveliness could give,That while I heard him thy sweet lays rehearse'Twas then, and only then, I seem'd to live!

'Twas then, that many a charm unfelt before,With brighter grace, and sweeter pathos flow'd,While E * * * * * 's lips unlock'd their honied store,And in his face the friend, the poet glow'd!

Long may the poet friendship's sweets enjoy!Long may the poet's harp the friend delight!Their fame, nor time, nor envy can destroy,Till Feeling, and the Muse, are sunk in deepest night.