t,
And weakness gives warning to yield.

As the discord that raves 'neath the cloud
That is raised by the dash of the spray
When waters are battling aloud,
Bewilderment bears me away.

And to measure the song in its charm,
Or to handle the viol with skill,
Or beauty with carols to warm,
Gone for ever, the power and the will.

No never, no never, ascend
To the mountain-pass glories, shall I,
In the cheer of the chase to unbend;
Enough, it is left but to die.

And yet, shall I go to my rest,
Where the dead of my brothers repair--
To the hall of the bards, not unblest,
That their worthies before me are there?

LACHLAN MACVURICH.

This bard, known by his territorial designation of "Strathmassie," lived
during nearly eighty years of the last century, and died towards its
close. His proper patronymic was Macpherson. He was a favourite tenant
of the chief of Cluny, and continued to enjoy the benefit of his lease
of a large farm in Badenoch, after the misfortunes of the family, and
forfeiture of their estate. He was very intimate with his clansman,
James Macpherson, who has identified his own fame so immortally with
that of Ossian. Lachlan had the reputation of being his Gaelic tutor,
and was certainly his fellow-traveller during the preparation of his
work. In the specimens of his poetical talents which are preserved,
"Strathmassie" evinces the command of good Gaelic, though there is
nothing to indicate his power of being at all serviceable to his
namesake in that fabrication of imagery, legends, and sentiments, which,
in the opinion of many, constitutes all that we have in the name of
Ossian.

THE EXILE OF CLUNY.

The brave chief of Cluny, after lingering long on the
heights of Benalder, where he entertained his
unfortunate prince during some of the last days of the
adventurer's wandering, at length took shipping for
France, amidst the tears and regrets of a clan that
loved him with the fondest devotion. "Strathmassie"
seems to have caught, in the following verses, some
characteristic traits of his chief, in whom peaceful
dispositions were remarkably blended with the highest
courage in warfare.

Oh, many a true Highlander, many a liegeman,
Is blank on the roll of the brave in our land;
And bare as its heath is the dark mountain region,
O