ON A SCENE IN THE DARGLE.[439]

’Twas a bright moment of my life when first,

O thou pure stream through rocky portals flowing!

That temple-chamber of thy glory burst

On my glad sight! Thy pebbly couch lay glowing

With deep mosaic hues; and, richly throwing

O’er thy cliff-walls a tinge of autumn’s vest,

High bloom’d the heath-flowers, and the wild wood’s crest

Was touch’d with gold. Flow ever thus, bestowing

Gifts of delight, sweet stream! on all who move