A welcome give more kind and true,
Than aught my better fortunes knew.
Forgive, my friend, a father’s boast,
Oh! it out-beggars[136] all I lost!“
XXIV.
Delightful praise!—Like summer rose,
That brighter in the dewdrop glows,
The bashful maiden’s cheek appear’d,
For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard.
The flush of shamefaced joy to hide,