Thy charms behind thy modesty.

Thus too I've seen at midnight steal
A fleecy cloud before the wind,
And veil, tho' it could not conceal,
The brilliant light that shone behind.




LINES

Upon reading the Journal of a Friend's Tour into Scotland, in which
the picturesque Scenery and the Character of the People are fairly
and liberally stated.


Much injur'd, Scotia! was thy genuine worth,
When late the[A] surly Rambler wandered forth
In brown[B] surtout, with ragged staff,
Enough to make a savage laugh!
And sent the faithless legend from his hand,
That Want and Famine scour'd thy bladeless land,

That with thee Nature wore a wrinkled face,
That not a leaf e'er shed its sylvan grace,
But, harden'd by their northern wind,
Rude, deceitful, and unkind,
Thy half-cloth'd sons their oaten cake denied,
Victims at once of penury and pride.