James Hogg, 1831 (1770-1835)
“To the Genius of Shakespeare.”
Spirit all limitless,
Where is thy dwelling-place?
Spirit of him whose high name we revere,
Come on thy seraph wings,
Come from thy wanderings,
And smile on thy votaries, who sigh for thee here!
Come, O thou spark divine,
Rise from thy hallowed shrine;
Here in the windings of Forth thou shalt see
Hearts true to nature’s call
Spirits congenial,
Proud of their country, yet bowing to thee.
Here with rapt heart and tongue,
While our fond minds were young,
Oft thy bold numbers we poured in our mirth;
Now in our hall for aye
This shall be holiday,
Bard of all Nature, to honour thy birth.
Whether thou tremblest o’er
Green grave of Elsinore,
Stayest o’er the hill of Dunsinnan to hover,
Bosworth, or Shrewsbury,
Egypt or Philippi;
Come from thy roamings the universe over.
Whether thou journey’st far
On by the morning star,
Dream’st on the shadowy brows of the moon,
Or linger’st in fairyland,
’Mid lovely elves to stand,
Singing thy carols unearthly and boon;—
Here thou art called upon,
Come thou to Caledon!
Come to the land of the ardent and free!
The land of the love recess,
Mountain and wilderness,
This is the land, thou wild meteor, for thee!
Oh, never since time had birth,
Rose from the pregnant earth
Gems such as late have in Scotia sprung;—
Gems that in future day,
When ages pass away,
Like thee shall be honoured, like thee shall be sung!
Then here, by the sounding sea,
Forest, and greenwood tree,
Here to solicit thee cease shall we never:
Yes, thou effulgence bright,
Here must thy flame relight,
Or vanish from Nature for ever and ever!
Songs. By the Ettrick Shepherd. Now first collected. 1831, p. 304.