Production Note Cornell University Library pro- duced this volume to replace the irreparably deteriorated original. It was scanned using Xerox soft- ware and equipment at 600 dots per inch resolution and com- pressed prior to storage using CCITT Group 4 compression. The digital data were used to create Cornell's replacement volume on paper that meets the ANSI Stand- ard Z39.48-1984. The production of this volume was supported in part by the Commission on Prés- ervation and Access and the Xerox Corporation. Digital file copy- right by Cornell University Library 1991. • ! SILSHT MMIIfig. BY JOHN TEEB. cJfH'73 r/*tl h»-. / BERE8E0RD AND SOUTHERN, PRINTER8, MANCHESTER.PREFACE. In presenting to the public this small volume of Poems, a few remarks may be necessary, and an apology given for their appearance. It is customary with tbose who publish poems to convey to the reader some idea of the person and cbaracter of the author. I may, then, very briefly state that I was born in Manchester, of poor but kind and indus- trious parents. At seven years of âge I was sent to the Lancasterian School, where I received two years* éduca- tion. At this time, England and the Continent of Europe were plunged in tierce and bloody wars, and the poorer classes in England suffered indescribable misery, resulting from those disastrous conüicts. At nine years of âge I was placed in a cotton mill, and worked at different milia until I was twenty-eight years of âge ; and during the whole of this time, and for many years afterwards, I attended a Sunday School. Whilst a piecer and a spinner, I devoted a very considérable portion of time to the study of grammar, and the works of Blair, Addison, Johnson, Pope, and other célébrated authors, and also wrote several short poems, such as “ Farewell, my Native Land,” “ Invocation to Spring,” “ Address to a Daisy,” &c., and I had the pleasure of seeing these poems inserted in several newspapers. Although this was highly encouraging to me, still I never neglected to attend with diligence to my ordinary employment, for I hadPREFACE. iv. read in Cobbett’s “ Advice to Young Men ” a caution not to dépend upon tbe Muses for substantial support. This caution had its proper influence, as be illustrated the suffer- ings of Bloomfield, who wrote “ The Farmer’s Boy.’" I , | had also read the lives of Bums and other poets, who, while | they were giving to the world the sublimest beauties, were j living in penury and distress. j While a spinner, I made my first attempt at oratory, at the Mechanics’ Institution, in this city. The subject was | one worthy of the éloquence of a Cicero or a Demosthenes, ! namely, the necessity of a Ten Hours Bill. I had then the pleasure for the first time of seeing my name associated | with the good men who were foremost in advocating that ; great measure, and my remarks were noticed for their elo- ; quence and force. I do not say this from egotism, but from a sense of gratitude that I felt for the pains I had taken in self-culture, under disadvantages which those only j ean comprehend who toiled in a cotton mill during the long ; hour System. I was always a faithful advocate of the Ten Hours Bill, until it became a legislative enactment, and the last public ! letter that was penned by the late John Fielden, Esq., M.P., j was specially written to me. | I left the mill when a young mari, and for many years' held a respectable situation in a warehouse in Spring Gurdens, and lastly in Mosley Street, in this city. In the year 1842 some of the operative dyers waited upon me and prevailed upon me to become their secretary. The reade? will soon perceive that shortly after I had cogentPREFACE. Y. reasons to regret the change that I made in my situation, for in this year that general and disastrous tum-out took place, arising, I believe, from an incessant réduction of wages, when the opératives of Ashton, Stalybridge, and Dukinfield entered Manchester in tens of thousands, stopping in their onward march every mill and workshop. The dyers, amongst other bodies of workmen, became amalga- mated with the tum-outs, but not as rioters or disturbers of the public peace. In the sad disorder which ensued I took no part whatever, except what I deemed to be my duty as secretary to the men whose servant I was ; and these men I am sure will verify this even at this day. Nevertheless, it appeared that nature had made me like some other man, who, during those turbulent days, took an active part in smashing the Windows of Gisbome and Wilson’s Print Works, Adelphi, Salford, and the conséquences fell upon me, for shortly afterwards I was comfortably placed in Kirkdale Jail, to undergo two year# imprisonment, with hard labour, and to find bail in £200, for my good behaviour for two years more. In a préfacé like this I cannot fully enter into details, but my case was one of mistaken identity, and the deluded per- sons who gave evidence against me hâve long since regretted the course which they took. I freely forgive them from my heart, although that unfortunate event plunged a tender wife and five children into unutterable distress, and reduced me to penury. After havmg had a few months of prison life, and when } the vindictive conduct of Lord Abinger, as judge, had been |VÎ. PREFACE. severely commented upon in the Honse of Commons, I made an effort to obtain a commutation of the sentences passed generally upon my fellow-prisoners ; but ail my efforts, and also those of many members of Parliament, proved fruitless. My soliciter then drew up a memorial on my behalf, pray- ing for my unconditional restoration to liberty, on the ground of my innocence. This memorial was signed by four county magistrates and others, and it also had the signature of the late Mr. Beswick, chief superintendent of. police. It was committed to the care of Joseph Brotherton, Esq., M.P., who, with the Earl of Shaftesbury, the late Thomas Houlds- worth, Esq., M.P., and other members of Parliament, sub- mitted it to Sir James Graham, Bart., who, with the in- exorable inflexibility so charactéristic of the man, refused to accédé to the prayer of the memorial ; and therefore I con- tinued under the kind and patemal care of the Govemment during the remainder of the term. My having been at the above practical college will account for some of the poems in this book, and show that, even in prison, a man may cultivate the muse, and invigorate hia intellectual faculties. While there, I made considérable progress in ordinary leaming, and many who were with me will admit that they gained a great amount of benefit from my teaching, as I had the good fortune to obtain from the kind govemor, Mr. Amos, and the visiting magistrates, a large amount of time for my own improvement and also that of many others. I will now very briefly conclude this préfacé by stating that, after leaving my country seat, I resumed my situationPREFACE. vii. as secretary to the dyers, and remained with that body during the long period of twelve years, when a strike was j determined on by them for a small advance of wages, which j it is to be lamented that their employers did not grant. I, however, seriously advised them to postpone it at the time ; but they had just reasons for what they askedj and, as I was their servant, I rendered them ail the assistance in my power, to enable them to gain their object. Affcer a noble and heroic struggle, of nearly twenty weeks* duration, the strike terminated in a manner most disastrous to the men, and by no means profitable to the employers ; and as I acted with perfect sincerity, honesty, and uprightness throughout, I became eventually, like many others, a sufferer ; and to be candid, this is the reason of the présent publication. To the Operative Fine Spinners I shall ever feel grateful for the large number of copies of the first édition they pur- chased, and «which I hope will be an inducement to others to purchase, not from any particular merit in the poems, but as an encouragement to the Author, who has devoted the last twenty-five years of his life in doing his utmost to ameliorate the condition of that most noble order of men, the working classes. This I hâve done regardless' of my own pecuniary interest, and from a sincere conviction that it was my duty to render my own order ail the assistance I could. There are some who may consider that I hâve been a promoter of strikes and a sower of discord between em- j ployers and their'workmen ; but such is not the fact. I hâve been invariably opposed to them; and through my instrumentality and médiation, I hâve had the satisfactionPREFACE. viii. of preventing many ; and those who hâve heard my ad- dresses in thé Town Hall, Corn Exchange, Carpenters’ Hall, and other large meeting-rooms, will bear testimony to this fact. I hope the following Poems will be viewed as the simple compositions of a working man, whose éducation bas neces- sarily been limited. In the sélection which I hâve made for this book, I hâve endeavoured to insert what I thought would be generally acceptable. The Poems are divided into three Parts, u Prison Poems,” “ Misoellaneous Poems,” and u Elegies.” If they should be found worthy of perusal, and calculated to create kindly feelings in the bosom of the reader,—if they should inspire a love for what is chaste and beautiful in nature, I shall be amply repaid for the publica- tion of them. That they may be found to hâve this ten- dency, and to inspire a love for reading the beauties of those authors whose exalted genius has immortalised their names ; that they may lead to such reflections as will improve the minds and the hearts of my fellow-men, is the ardent and sincere wish of the A.uthor, JOHN TEER.0ptm'ona of Xty Press, A former volume of Poems, published some years ago, the Press reviewed in the following manner : THE «TABLET.” “Mr. Teer’s volume of Poems contains poetical feeling, pleasing thoughts, and images well expressed.” « LIVERPOOL JOURNAL.” « This little work is highly creditable to Mr. Teer’s powers of writing and. thinking.” « MANCHESTER & SALFORD ADYERTISER.’.’ « A number of poems from the pen of a working man, expressed in language and versification, which, considering bis opportunities, are highly creditable ; several of his minor pièces hâve appeared in our columns.” «MANCHESTER TIMES.” «Mr. Teer makes no pretence to scholastio éducation ; his simple history is told by himself in a few words. ‘ The author has worked in a cotton mill during the most part of his life, and the only éducation of which he can boast. has been gleaned from a Sunday School in Man- chester.’ We hâve glanced at most of his poetic flings, and mark with pleasure that they ail aim at moral excellence amoi|g mankind, irre- spective of creed or party ; and in some of the poems there is a love of nature beautifully and ardently expressed, which speaks highly în favour of the high moral feeling of the writer.”JCONTENTS PRISON P0EM6. PAGE The Execution of Wilmot Buckley and Betty Ecoles. 1 An Address to the Moon............................ 4 To a Blackbird.................................... 5 When You Behold the Splendid Sky.................. 7 Now Bonny Spring again Returns.................... 8 WhatisWoman?..................................... 10 I wonder where my Father is...................... 11 Ye Warbling Songsters............................ 13 TheEobin......................................... 14 Tempérance........................................15 To the Cuckoo.................................... 18 To my Wife....................................... 20 Lines written at the Reque3t of one of my Fellow- Prisoners, whose Daughter, aged Thirteen Years, died a day before Jbis Liberation............ 21 To Jane.......................................... 23 Lines written upon being asked if I should like to see my Wife...................................... 24 Invocation to Sleep.............................. 26 The Hawthom Tree................................. 27 To a Fellow-Prisoner, on his Liberation.......... 28 On seeing some Children play..................... 29 Upon Hearing the Lark........................... 30 When the Leaves are Falling..................... 31 The Happy Day is drawing near.................... 32 AnAcrostic....................................... 33 Kindness......................................... 34CONTENTS. XÜ. MISCELLANEOTTS POEMS. PAGE Invocation to Spring.............................. 35 LinestoaDaisy..................................... 36 Farewell, my Native Land........................... 38 What is Weidth ?.................................. 40 The Poor Man’s Grave.............................. 41 The Orphan Child................................ 42 Liverpool Blind Asylum.......................... 44 We Envy not our Masters Wealth....................45 A Tribute to a Friend......................... 48 Poetical Address on the Occasion of the Présentation to Mr. Samuel Jones of an Uluminated Address, a Watch, a Gold Guard, and a Purse of Gold....... 49 Lines on the Occasion of the Présentation of a Bust of the Earl of Shaftesbury to Lady Shaftesbury.... 51 Poetical Farewell Address of the Droylsden Factory Opératives, on leaving England for America..... 53 Lines to Commemorate the Convivial Party, given by J. and C. Tysoe, Esqrs., to their Workpeople..... 55 ELEGIES. A Poem on the Deàth of the Rev. H. Gillow, Manchester 57 A Tribute to the Memory of the late Rev. J. Latham, whodied January 15, 1838, aged 28 years........ 62 Elegy on the Death of R. W—, who died January 10, 1841, aged 22 years............................ 63 Lines written to Perpetuate the Memory of the late lamented Mr. S. Wadley,.who departed this life April 22, 1849, aged 23 years................. 64 Elegy on the late John Ashton Nicholls, F.R.A.S... 65 Elegy on the Death of the Rev. Peter Raye.........67PKISOH POEMS. Œfje gtatnttfoit o( aætrtmot IStttftfcp anU Œrttg îîtfUs, at ïttrfeDale jjaîk A MEiJfcïCHOLY gloom pervades the jail, And sorrow ’s iûterwove with every gale ; Hushed is the vacant laugh, the ribald jest, Deep thought in every visage is exprest. Tis now the morn of that tremendous hour, Wben frowning Justice wields her fearful power, Consigns for ever, and to endless gloom, Two human beings, now in life’s full bloom, The prison clock with muffled note doth chime, And marks the now too rapid flight of time ; Fast to oblivion’s gulf it Aies away, And fills their trembling soûls with dread dismay. Unnumbered beings round the prison crowd, The thoughtless youth, the vicious, and the proud.g PRISON POEMS. Ah ! little think they, as quick moments roll, What dreadful anguish rends each culprit’s soûl. The clock has chimed, the culprits now must go To that dread spot, prégnant with every woe, To view those emblems sad that soon will part The life-blood circulating in each heart ; And close their eyes, now so serenely bright, And plunge their soûls in everlasting night. A moumful band proceeds in solemn pace, And lead the victims to that awful place. * What anguish deep, what cruel pangs oppress, And fill them with inexpressible distress 1 And now aghast the shivering wretches stand, The foui reproach, the scandai of our land ; Before their eyes what countless crowds appear, But in those eyes there sparkles not a tear. The daisied fields, gardens extending wide, Meet every eye in purity and pride ; Nature thus, in her sweet language teaching, God will mercy show to their beseeching. 4 The océan, too, from their dread scene of death, Appears unruffled by a single breath, And on her silvered bosom vessels glide Gently along her undulating tide ;PRISON POEMS. 3 While the refulgent harbinger of day Orowns ail the scene in glittering array. The clock has chimed its last ; what dark dismay Do now the quivering murderers display ! Now falls the drop ; an instantaneous shock Doth their vain hopes of life for ever mock : One struggle brief, the pangs of death are o’er, TheyVe fled to to that unknown etemal shore. Such was their fate on that disastrous day, Ignobly doomed to prématuré decay.4 PRISON POEMS. 8ta &&&re»s to tf)e jftocn. Thou beauteous orb, whose splendid ligbt In lustre most transcendent shines, Thy silver rays adora the nigbt, But reach not where the prisoner pines. Thou glitt’rest on the ocean’s wave, And in the lover’s flowery dell ; Thou smilest on the patriotes grave, But not within his prison cell. Thou spotless Queen of earth and sea, The mariner’s most cheering friend, In solitude I’ve roved with thee, And joy my foçtsteps did attend. But now a captive I am dôomed To pass a long and dreary night, A living victim now entombed, And robbed of thy celestial light.PRISON POEMS. 5 a îSIarfdifrtr. Thoü bonny bird, why dost thou sing, Amid tbese scenes of heartfelt woe ? Thy cheerful songs no pleasures bring, But cause the silent tear to flow. No more, lov’d bird, tby sweet notes sing, Nor let thy tuneful music flow, But far away, on outstreteh’d wing, Oh ! haste and leave this place of woe. Couldst thou but see yon gloomy m, And hear a hapless victim’s sigh, No more thy gladsome notes would swell, Nor écho through the boundless sky. For there a wretch is doomed to death, For murder of the blackest kind ; And soon must yield his fleeting breath, To infamy and death consigned. €PRISON POEMS. How doleful is thy song to hîm ! What grief and black remorse it brings î He cannot bear thy joyful hymn, For dark despair around him clings. Oh ! had I wings like thee to fly, How soon I’d leave this gloomy place, And to my own dear cottage hie, My wife and children to embrace ! m ftPRISON POEMS. 7 Wfyttt ¥ou ÎSH)oI& \%z âpïettînDf £&£. When jou behold the splendid sky, Drest in the richest drapery, And Sol with golden beams on high, Oh ! kindly then remember me. When flowers in lovely beauty shine, And leaves are waving on each tree, When ail the sweets of spring combine, Oh ! kindly then remember me. And when the songsters of the mom Pour forth their sweetest melody, When huntsmen sound the cheerful hom, Oh ! kindly then remember me. When other hearts are light with joy, And redolent of liberty, Oh ! think of him still doom^d to sigh, And kindly then remember me.8 PRISON POEMS. Nota 3Sonnp Sprtng «gain Krtum». Now bonny Spring again returns, And blooming nature smiles around, The linnet’s heart with gladness burns, And songs of melody abound. How pleasing now the rosy morn, Resplendent with Sol’s cheerful rays ! Upon the gentle breeze is borne The lark’s melodious tenter lays. How fragrant is the the morning air ! Sweet health and beauty from it flow ; The lovelv primrose, chaste and fair, In smiling beauty see it grow. The trees are budding forth anew, The milkmaid sings with joyful heart ; What lovely scenes now corne in view, A thousand pleasures to impart !PRISON POEMS. 9 But my poor heart is sad with woe, Nor smileth lovely Spring for me ; A perjur’d hand has struck the blow That drove me from my family. The dungeon dark is my abode, Sweet liberty fiom me has fled, And foui oppression’s heavy load May soon press me amongst the dead.10 PRISON POEMS. te ël&oman ? The brightest gem, the fairëst flower, That rules the heart with magic power ; Dispels the gloom which sorrow brings, And to false man with fondness clings. Soothes him along life,s dreary way, Till he has reach’d his final day : Nor does she then her cares resign, But laves with tears his hallow’d shrine.PRISON POEMS. Il 5 ®2aott&*r mp fxfytx i*. I wonder where my father is ; ’Tis long since he was here. He should not go away so far, And fill us ail with fear. My father took me to the fields, And show’d me smiling flowers. Will he not take me there again, To see those pretty bowers ? The gardens now are filled with bloom, And butterflies in them roam. I wish my father now was here : Why does he stop from home ? I want to hear each pretty bird Carol its joyous song. My father knows where they ail fly : Why does he stop so long ?PRISON POEMS, O mother ! do my father bring ; This ev’ning let us go. The summer ’s corne, the sun it shines, And flowers in beauty glow. Why do the tears roll down your cheeks ? O mother ! do not cry ; My father soon may corne again, And fiil us ail with joy.PRISON POEMS. 13 !* 023arfcïmg Gangsters. Ye warbling songsters of the grove, How joyful do ye sing ! Your little hearts are filled with love; Ye feel no sorrow’s sting. Aloft within the beauleous sky ’Tis your deligbt to soar, To pour the song of purest joy, Your JMaker to adore. Sweet libérty is your delight, It gladdens every note, And with the morn’s transcendent light, Ye pour it from each throat. The valleys with your music ring, And every flowery dell, Nature rejoices when ye sing : What pleasures where ye dwell !14 PRISON POEMS. Œ%e Rofctn. The Robin its early matin sings Beside my lonely cell, And every note it warbles forth Reminds me where I dwell. It calls to mind my peaceful cot, My wife and children dear, And joys of which I am bereft, For sorrow’s bitter tear. Tby artless notes, sweet warbling bird, For me melodious flow ; And during winter’s darksome hours They soothe my heartfelt woe. And when I leave this gloomy cell, 1*11 fondly think of thee, As by my own fireside I sit, With love and liberty.PRISON POEMS. 15 Œempnatu*. * Hail, Tempérance ! bail, thou blushing maid ! More lovely than the flowery shade. Oh ! for that rapt seraphic fire For which my soûl does now aspire ; The fire that glowed in Milton’s breast, When angel’s language he express’d ; Oh ! for those numbers stately, grand, Which sweetly flowed at his command ; Oh ! for one spark of that bright fiame, That ail thy worth I may proclaim. Hail, Tempérance ! hail, most hallowed name I What charms surround thy glorious famé ! Ten thousand tongues could not express The joy, the love, the happiness, That spring unceasingly from thee, And fill the soûl with ecstacy. Why should I then présumé to fly, On fancy’s wings exalted high ? ’Tis that my soûl adoreth thee, Thou guardian saint of liberty.16 PRISON POF.MS. Celestial star, whose heavenly ray, Beameth with smiles, like summer’s day, Oh ! had I but transcendent power, * I'd paint thee as the richest flower. Hail, bail again, sweet Tempérance ! hail, Thou lovliest beauty of tbe date ; In lustre sbine tbrougb ail the land, And guide us with unerring hand, Till every cottage in tbis isle With thv refulgent ligbt sball smile. And, oh ! fair maid, where thou dost dwell, The modest beauties there excel ; In every cot, then, lovely sbine, Arrayed in beauty most sublime. Behold yon cottage on the hill, From whence descends the playful rill, Where linnet notes harmonious flow, And naturels pleasing beauties grow, A circle there, by Tempérance blest, In peace and love live unoppress’d ; No worldly sorrows vex the hcart, No madd’ning drinks black woes impart ; Their day s are pass’d in sweet content, They thank their God for bîessings sent.PRISON POEMS. 17 A prattling band of children sweet Gambol around their parents, feet. And on their cheeks the blooming rose Of kealth and beauty sweetly glows. And see, within their garden ground, The flowers in full bloom ail around. Industry smil es, sweet is their toil ; Her due reward springs from the soil. Affection there, most sweet and kind,; And love and friendship are combined. * The lord upon his rich estate Might envy their delightful State ; The Queen august upon her throne Might wish that cottage were her own. For who can paint a scene like^this Keplete with such exquisite bliss ? It is beyond the.poet’s power, In wildest flight and happiest hour. And such might be each Briton’s lot, If Tempérance smiled in ev’ry cot. Her sons might then in grandeur tise, And songs of gladness rend the skies ; While peace and plenty here would smile, And God Would bless our native isle. n18 PRISON POEMS. &o tfje &utfto0» What hollow notes are those Ihear While lying in my gloomy cell ? They are the Cuckoo’s : she is near, * And singing in some flowery dell. Oh ! do not tell me thou art corne, To herald in the blushing spring, For I hâve lost my happy home, And writhe beneath oppression’s sting. Thy little heart now throbs with joy, While singing on some verdant tree ; But mine is doomed to heave the sigh That springs from loss of liberty. How gladly would I leave this place, And hail with tirée the rosy morn ! How gladly view fair Naturel faee, And pluck wild roses from the thorn !PRISON POEMS. 19 But bolts and bars here intervene, And in harsh language plainly tell, I must not see the smiling green, Nor go where fe&thered songsters dwell. Fly froçi tbis place, thou lovely bird ! There is pollution in its breath ; No song within it should be heard But life’s last wail, the dirge of death.20 PKISON POEMS. €o rng WUU* Oh ! do not let the painful sigh Disturb thy tender heart. Thou hast a Father in the sky Whose goodness will impart Celestial sweetness in that hour ]When humbly thou dost bend, To call on his supernal power Thy footsteps to attend.PRISON POEMS. 21 %int* WRITTEN AT THE KEQUEST OF ONE OF MT FELLOW-PRISONERS, WHOSE DAUGHTER, AGED THIRTEEN TEARS, DIED A DAT BEFORE HIS LIBERATION. ' O father ! corne, I pray thee, corne, Before my trembling breath Flies far away to endless night, Amid the sbades of death. Oh ! leave the prison’s dark abode : It is thy daughters pray’r, For death is quiv’ring on her lips— There is no time to spare. Corne and converse with me once more ; Dear father, do not stay ; My heart is breaking in my breast,— The world fast fades away. He cannot corne, he cannot corne ; His bondage is not o’er ; And angels whisper I must go Unto a better shore.PRISON POEMS. O father dear ! these tears accept, That in profusion flow— The last fond tribute of my love In this sad vale of woe. The shades of death shut out the world, Yet brightness beams around ; Celestial cherubs sing aloud, And heavenly trumpets Sound. . Angels are bearing me away : Oh ! let us weep no more. In heaven we yet shall meet again— That ever blissful shore.PRISON- POEM8. 23 Œo ^ art t. The scene around me now is dark, And bitter anguish marks my lot; Yet in my gloom tbou art my friend ; By thee I know I’m not forgot. The world to me bas been unkind : It drove me from my happy cot, And robb’d me of a thousand joys ; Yet still by thee I’m not forgot. Oh î sweet remembrance, ever dear, That brings to mind my native spot ; My children, too, and thy fair form, By whom I never am forgot.24 PRISON POEMS. ïtnea WRITTEN X7PON BEING ASKED IF I SHOULD LIEE TO SEE MY WIFE. Oh ! yes, a thousand times I could, To tranquillise my troubled mind ; But, ah ! it would congeal my blood, While I in bondage am conüned. Oh ! tell her not to leave her cot, Nor to this place a visit pay ; More painful still would would be my lot, To see her and be forced away. I see her now, with fancy’s eyes ; The rose is blasted on her checksH Bach zéphyr tells me that she sighs, • Alas ! for him she vainly seeks. And when she view s those angels fair, The offspring of our tender love, Her agony she could not bear, Unless supported from above.PRISON POEMS. 25 They ask for him, their tender sire, And wonder why he went astray, And left the cheerful cottage fire, Where now their mother pines away. What sorrows hâve those villains wrought ! How bitter their vindictive darts ! What grief upon our dbildren brought, And twined around our breaking hearts ! Perhaps they yet may weep for me, When conscience robs them of their rest, When awful visions they shall see, In which their crimes are manifest.26 PRTSON POEMS. Jnbotatfon to gïeep. Come, balmy sleep, with soothing power, And lull my soûl to rest ; Come, in sorrow’s gloomy hotrr, To calm my troubled breast. Bring to my mind tbose visions brigbt * Of cbildhood’s halcyon days, That I may dwell with fond delight, On ail my guileless ways. ’Tis on those days I love to dwell, Such sweetness they impart ; A pleasing spell doth in them dwell When grief corrodes the heart.PRISON POEMS. 37 Œfje ??atotf)cmt Œxn. I love to see the hawthorn tree When flowers of silver crown its head ; It brings to mind sweet infancy, And joys that hâve for ever fled. I love to see the hawthorn tree, When perfumed odours most abound, And the heaven’s ring with melody, And primroses smile on the ground. I love to see the hawthorn tree, In evening’s soft and balmv hours, When zéphyrs whisper liberty And play ainong the modest flowers. I love to see the hawthorn tree, Where lover s tell their tender taie ; lt has a thousand charms for me, When sorrows dark my heart assail.| 38 PRISON POEMS. ©o a jFelloto^rtsoner, on ïfoeratton. I hail the day that sets thee free, To taste the sweets of liberty ; Thy days of bondage now are o'er, May joy présent her smiling store ! Thy faithful wife and friends so dear No more will shed the bitter tear. May happiness, witb pleasing band, Salute thee in thy native land ! Let every bliss that mortals know, From heaven above or earth below, Unité to hail thee at that hour, When tyranny shall lose its power ; When freedom shall triumphant rise, And grateful voices rend the skies. I hail the day that sets thee free, And gives thee back to liberty.PRISON POEMS. 29 <®tt &nin$ «orne <£f)fltnr*n piaj. There’s nought more beautiful on eartb, There’s nought more pleasing to the minci, Than to behold young children play, ’Mi