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ROBERT BURNS. I

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ROBERT BURNS. I (From Blackwood'a Magaiiue) I All lieaits are Iiis-with high and low, I The Doon in fancy seems to flow; To music all itc, onvn: The village maiden to his lays Her simph, heartless homage paysâ The queen upon the throne. All that the cottage hearth en(enril- All that can move to mirth or tears, In his sweet gong combine And pictured there with simplest grace, Old times and manners we may trace IntVry living line. And need we say that in his page Are strains that must, from age to age, When clouds are in her skv, Speak to his country's glowing heart. And bid her ever act her part, As in the days gone by Nor upon earth alone he reigns, Nor heaven alone on hi? domains Shines with wide spreading ray: But things unearthly, and of nigtit, And lighted by no heavenly light, His mighty spell obey 1 Ard never can it be forgot, 'Ibat hard as was our poet's lot, left in cold want to pine. No poor and servile arts he knew, But ever to himself was true, And to his art divine. No fear that time with men like him, The radiance of Fame should dimâ And for this simple causeâ That Time has happily, no furca To change the onward, even course Of Nature and her laws. "The daisy," therefore, still mnst grow- The hills where Lugar loves to flow, Still meet the winter sun"- And Na'ure's poet still must hold, Amidst her streams and mountains old," The place that he has won

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LLANGOLLEN PETTY SESSIONS.

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