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f other days had found, With all the powers of song. I 've listen'd to the midnight wind, And thought of friends untrue-- Of hearts that seem'd so fondly twined, That nought could e'er undo; Of cherish'd hopes, once fondly bright-- Of joys which fancy gave-- Of youthful eyes, whose lovely light Were darken'd in the grave. I 've listen'd to the midnight wind When all was still as death; When nought was heard before, behind-- Not e'en the sleeper's breath. And I have sat at such an hour And heard the sick man's sigh; Or seen the babe, like some sweet flow'r, At that lone moment die. I 've listen'd to the midnight wind, And wept for others' woe; Nor could the heart such music find To bid its tear-drops flow. The melting voice of one we loved, Whose voice was heard no more, Seem'd, when those fancied chords were moved, Still breathing as before. I 've listen'd to the midnight wind, And sat beside the dead, And felt those movings of the mind Which own a secret dread. The ticking clock, which told the hour, Had then a sadder chime; And these winds seem'd an unseen pow'r, Which sung the dirge of time. I 've listen'd to the midnight wind, When, o'er the new-made grave Of one whose heart was true and kind, Its rudest blasts did rave. Oh! there was something in the sound-- A mournful, melting tone-- Which led the thoughts to that dark ground Where he was left alone. I 've listen'd to the midnight wind, And courted sleep in vain, While thoughts like these have oft combined To rack the wearied brain. And even when slumber, soft and deep, Has seen the eyelid close, The restless soul, which cannot sleep, Has stray'd till morning rose. ROBERT DAVIDSON. Robert Davidson was born in the parish of Morebattle, Roxburghshire, in 1779. The son of humble parents, he was sent to tend cattle in his tenth year. He had received at the parish school a limited education; and he devoted his leisure time on the hills to miscellaneous reading. Learning scraps of old ballads from the cottage matrons, as they sung them at their distaffs, he early began to essay imitations of these olden ditties. As a farm-servant and an agricultural labourer, he continued through life
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