n appears,
And left us darkling in a world of tears:)
O! hear my ardent, grateful, selfish pray'r!--
Fintray, my other stay, long bless and spare!
Thro' a long life his hopes and wishes crown;
And bright in cloudless skies his sun go down!
May bliss domestic smooth his private path;
Give energy to life; and soothe his latest breath,
With many a filial tear circling the bed of death!

* * * * *

CXXVIII.

TO

ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ.,

OF FINTRAY.

ON RECEIVING A FAVOUR.

[Graham of Fintray not only obtained for the poet the appointment in
Excise, which, while he lived in Edinburgh, he desired, but he also
removed him, as he wished, to a better district; and when imputations
were thrown out against his loyalty, he defended him with obstinate
and successful eloquence. Fintray did all that was done to raise Burns
out of the toiling humility of his condition, and enable him to serve
the muse without fear of want.]

I call no goddess to inspire my strains,
A fabled muse may suit a bard that feigns;
Friend of my life! my ardent spirit burns,
And all the tribute of my heart returns,
For boons accorded, goodness ever new,
The gift still dearer, as the giver, you.

Thou orb of day! thou other paler light!
And all ye many sparkling stars of night;
If aught that giver from my mind efface;
If I that giver's bounty e'er disgrace;
Then roll to me, along your wandering spheres,
Only to number out a villain's years!

* * * * *

CXXIX.

A VISION.

[This Vision of Liberty descended on Burns among the magnificent ruins
of the College of Lincluden, which stand on the junction of the Cluden
and the Nith, a short mile above Dumfries. He gave us the Vision;
perhaps, he dared not in those yeasty times venture on the song, which
his secret visitant poured from her lips. The scene is chiefly copied
from nature: the swellings of the Nith, the howling of the fox on the
hill, and the cry of the owl, unite at times with the natural beauty
of the spot, and give it life and voice. These ruins were a favourite
haunt of the poet.]

As I stood by yon roofless tower,
Where the wa'-flower scents the dewy air,
Where th' howlet mourns in her ivy bower
And tells the midnight moon her care;

The winds were laid, the air was still,
The Stars they shot a