ay.
The sceptre sinks in the regal hall,
And still'd is the monarch's tread,
The mighty stoop as the meanest droop,
And sleep with the nameless dead.

THE HIGHLAND HILLS.

The Highland hills! there are songs of mirth,
And joy, and love on the gladsome earth;
For Spring, in her queenly robes, hath smiled
In the forest glade and the woodland wild.
Then come with me from the haunts of men
To the glassy lake in the mountain glen,
Where sunshine sleeps on the dancing rills
That chainless leap from the Highland hills.

The Highland hills! when the sparkling rays
Of the silver dews greet the orient blaze,
When noon comes forth with her gorgeous glow,
While the fountains leap and the rivers flow,
Thou wilt roam with me where the waterfalls
Bid echo wake in the rocky halls,
Till the grandeur wild to thy heart instils
A deep delight 'mid the Highland hills.

The Highland hills! when the noonday smiles
On the slumbering lakes and their fairy isles,
We 'll clamber high where the heather waves
By the warrior's cairn and the foemen's graves;
And I 'll sing to thee, in "the bright day's prime,"
Of the days of old and of ancient time,
And thy heart, unknown to the care that chills,
Shall gladly joy in the Highland hills.

The Highland hills! in the twilight dim
To their heath-clad crests shall thy footsteps climb,
And there shalt thou gaze o'er the ocean far,
Till the beacon blaze of the evening star,
And the lamp of night, with its virgin beams,
Look down on the deep and the shining streams,
Till beauty's spell on thy spirit thrills
With joy and love in the Highland hills.

MY NATIVE LAND.

Sublime is Scotia's mountain land,
And beautiful and wild;
By tyranny's unhallow'd hand
Unsullied, undefiled.
The free and fearless are her sons,
The good and brave her sires;
And, oh! her every spirit glows
With freedom's festal fires!

When dark oppression far and wide
Its gory deluge spread,
While nations, ere they pass'd away,
For hope and vengeance bled,
She from her rocky bulwarks high
The banner'd eagle hurl'd,
And trampled on triumphant Rome,
The empress of the world.

She gave the Danish wolf a grave
Deep in her darkest glens,
And chased the vaunting Norman