Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn
Thy banish'd peace - thy laurels torn!
Thy sons, for valour long renown'd,
...
On Leven's banks, while free to rove,
And tune the rural pipe to love;
I envied not the happiest swain
...
Come listen, ye students of every degree;
I sing of a wit and a tutor perdie,
A statesman profound, a critic immense,
...
From the man whom I love, though my heart I disguise,
I will freely describe the wretch I despise;
And, if he has sense but to balance a straw,
...
Let the nymph still avoid and be deaf to the swain
Who in transports of passion affects to complain,
...
To fix her!—’twere a task as vain
To count the April drops of rain,
To sow in Afric’s barren soil,
...
While with fond rapture and amaze
On thy transcendent charms I gaze,
My cautious soul essays in vain
...
When the rough North forgets to howl,
And Ocean's billows cease to roll;
When Libyan sands are bound in frost,
...
Where now are all my flattering dreams of joy?
Monimia, give my soul her wonted rest;
Since first thy beauty fix'd my roving eye,
...