from the sky,
That Anadale {9b} doth crown, with a most amorous eye,
Salutes me every day, or at my pride looks grim,
Oft threatning me with clouds, as I oft threatning him.'

These lines recurred to William's memory, and we talked of Burns, and of
the prospect he must have had, perhaps from his own door, of Skiddaw and
his companions, indulging ourselves in the fancy that we might have been
personally known to each other, and he have looked upon those objects
with more pleasure for our sakes. We talked of Coleridge's children and
family, then at the foot of Skiddaw, and our own new-born John a few
miles behind it; while the grave of Burns's son, which we had just seen
by the side of his father, and some stories heard at Dumfries respecting
the dangers his surviving children were exposed to, filled us with
melancholy concern, which had a kind of connexion with ourselves. In
recollection of this, William long afterwards wrote the following Address
to the sons of the ill-fated poet:--

Ye now are panting up life's hill,
'Tis twilight time of good and ill,
And more than common strength and skill
Must ye display,
If ye would give the better will
Its lawful sway.

Strong-bodied if ye be to bear
Intemperance with less harm, beware,
But if your Father's wit ye share,
Then, then indeed,
Ye Sons of Burns, for watchful care
There will be need.

For honest men delight will take
To shew you favour for his sake,
Will flatter you, and Fool and Rake
Your steps pursue,
And of your Father's name will make
A snare for you.

Let no mean hope your souls enslave,
Be independent, generous, brave;
Your Father such example gave,
And such revere,
But be admonished by his grave,
And think and fear. {11}

* * * * *

_Friday_, _August_ 19_th_.--Open country for a considerable way. Passed
through the village of Thornhill, built by the Duke of Queensberry; the
'brother-houses' so small that they might have been built to stamp a
character of insolent pride on his own huge mansion of Drumlanrigg, which
is full in view on the opposite side of the Nith. This mansion is indeed
very large; but to us it appeared like a gathering together of little
things. The roof is broken into a hundred pieces, cupolas, etc., in the
shape of casters, conjuror's balls