I A A = AM == '£' a ~ i = ^ 3 = ^=^' ^ ^^= ^ d:; i ^^ ; :c -^_ ^ = ^^ ::> 4 — P ^^ ^^ -=^ ' 1 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FRAGMENTS IN VERSE BY WILLIAM HARRISON (late schoolmaster,) BRADFORD, YORKSHIRE BINGLEY: PRINTBD BY J. nARRISO:^ AND SON, TOHK 1'L.^CE. MDCCCLXII. Huh / PREFACE, A Book without a title oi' preface, I suppose,. Mould scarcely be considered likely to ai'rest attention, especially when the writer is compara- tively unknown : the title is, however, already hit upon — ' Fragments in verse,' by which is meant to be understood desultory thoughts, or detached pieces on a variety of subjects, written on various occasions, at vvidely distant periods, sometimes by request, and at others to diversify employment. Alihough no pretensions are here made to poetical capabilities, still the writer has had much pleasure in amusing himself by versifying, and more especially where the interest of others stimulated to the task. My own pupils had a primary claim on me, and my numerous personal 1 ll\ PEEFACE. :icquaintances and dear relatives have frequently elicited spontaneous efTusions, dictated bv un- I'eined friendship and hearty good will. I may add that these expressions of feeling have been frequently appreciated by friends, so that the' public may bear with me for being induced by repeated solicitations to collect them for publi- cation. I must apologise for inserting so many acrostics, were the Avhole of what is nov.- in manuscript to appear, they would materially swell the volume : it may, however, be stated that nothing private or strictly exclusively pci'- sonal has been embodied in them, so that they may be found not entirely devoid of interest to the general reader : they have, for the most part been written at the request of friends, on some special occasion. Some of the verses, it will bo found, are from the pen of other members of my beloved family. I have also appended the 'Lines on English PREFACE. V. Grammar,' found so useful in my own schooly and which were so favourably reviewed by gentlemen whose veracity and judgment could not be questioned. As a further extenuation of my temerity in presenting these fragments to the public, I may state that for more than two years my sight has been so defective, that I could not read a line of the clearest type at midday. The want of ordinary labour has proved so oppressive, that I may be pardoned for seeking amusement this way : to circulate this small volume may furnish employ- ment for some time to come — unless Iriends speedily gather up these fragments (which it is to be hoped contain some little nutiiment, and not altogether unpalatable) — should this he done, consideroMe labour and anxiety would be spar^jd to their Humble, yet well meaning servant, WILLIAM HAllEISON, CONTENTS. Directions for ri'dduifi in jjuhlic 8 AIVs icell that ends well 9 On public rcadiuf) 1^ Tlie Pedar/ogue 24 The Bradford canal nuimnce or water bewitched 29 Visit to Low Moor Iron Worh, and forivard to Halifix -. 39 On Mother s death 4G Lines addressed to cousin John Harrison ... 49 Lines addressed to son William, on his emigrating to Australia 31 The Franchise rental 55 A morning walk ivith aunt near Halifax ... 58 On the death of Mr. William Tunstill ... 03 Written during a jour i^ eg to uncle Philip's ... 00 On the death of cousin Thomas Harrison, Skipton 68 From, hrotJier Thomas on the death of mother 7S On being presented with Snuff 74 On ministers using the second personal pro- . noun too often ... .* - 'y On the death of viy honored cousin, the Rev. John Harrison ... 76 An Acrostic to my first ivife 79 Verses from hrothtr John 80 To Mrs. Preston, on the death of her step- Jather in his 92nd y^ar... 83 CONTENTS. til. An Acrostic on Writing 85 To Fred at Crake-moor 86 Oil seeing a suhf 22 Their council and their conduct prove, Eeligion has a power to move Both preacher and his hearers too, We see what saving grace can do. " We all have err'd and gone astray" You hear him penitently say ; Himself ahas'd, th' emphatic you. For none but pharisees would do, So " God be merciful to me" ! Eii;ht reverend, is a prayer for thee. Our deacons and our bishops-arch, As leaders in the heavenly march, Eequire a modicum of light E're they can shine in robes of white. Not one can claim exemption here, For priest and people must appear As sinners, in their Maker's sight. This all confess that feel aright ; We're all together in one boat, On life's tempestuous sea iifloat. The Lord alone can safely guide. In him we humbly must confide. The prince and beggar here must share The humble penitential prayer 23 " To me, be mei'ciful Lord " Through Christ thy needed help afford. To preachers one might this rule give. To regulate them whilst they live, — '^'Preach as you neer might x)reach ogain- A dying man to dying men" 1 24 THE PEDAGOGUE. A Pedagogue's proud license lies In showing he can criticise, At least his pupil's work in school. Sometimes he goes beyond this rule. To childish trifles he must bend, And all his energies expend ; Till loftier subjects scarce engage More manly thoughts, matured by age Those mental treasures had in store Which he has relished oft before. So useful and refreshing too ; He spreads before his pupils view. And now, dilates on each repast, Assuring them these pleasures last. These rich provisions now are spread^ In hopes to stir both heart and head : 25 Uutnov'd, tlie lads seem at tlie sight. Because they lack an appetite : " WTiat can be done r" he cries in haste, " To rectify a school-hoy's taste "! He now must stoop, (a perfect bore, ) Still lower than he did before. What boys dislike they soon forget, Nor once its absence e'er regret Until when needed, then they see How useful learning now would be, His spii'its sink in sad despair. In which his pupils have no share ; For merry thoughtless lads are they. Intent on naught so much as play. Well, schoolboy days can ne'er return, Tho' how your folly you discern ; Yet don't despair ! if you can read, There still is hope ! you may succeed. To labour nothing is denied. In application then confide : 'Tis useless quite the past to name. Yourself or teacher now to blame ; 26 Then nerve yourself, now you 're a man ! To form and execute a plan, Which on your notice now I press, It may be crowned with rich success, — "'Tis read and think, and read again, No better method can I pen." Some pupils I am bound to say, Could think and work, when not at play Such gained esteem, and do so still. Now they important stations fill. Affection marked deportment too, A pleasing retrospective view ; Their memories held in deep regard, By him who deems it the x'eward He mshed to merit and secure : Dislike is painful to endure, Fi-om those whose benefit was sought As best one could, with anxious thought. Devoted teachers could assert They can't be silent or inert. When lofty principles invite Investigation ; till full light 27 3Iake clear their import, and their use ; And what through hfe they might produce'! A cheerful, rich, expansive mind, So charming to the most refin'd ; "Tho' indigent, evincing thought, They speak and act as wise men ought, — Reflect a lustre on their name, Tho' not immortalized by fame — Yet changed by saving grace divine. In realms above they too must shine. But why enumerate results Observed by children and adults ? Sound principles we all well know Must corresponding conduct show ; Let education ever then Be such as shall ennoble men, By showing them the force and truth Of principles — imbibed in youth. By all the world may this be seen. Our British subjects, and our Queen Know what is just, and wise, and true, And knowing, love and practise too. 28 May rigliteousness exalt our Isle, Nor laws unequal e'er cleSIe Our hoasted statutes, which now stand As l)5\lwarks of our favoured land. Or Sx.ould v^-e find ('tis not too late) An evil in our Cliurcli or state, ^Ye may our ancient codes revise, Yv'lien proved desireable and vdse : For. circumstances may be such Tliat tliey require another touch To render tliem still more complete, Ai;d every just demand thus meet. ' Aitho' iu politics not skiird, These thoughts from childhood were instill'd, For I could never yet agree "To sanction laws that don't bind me As firmly as they bind my friend. To him, my sympathies extend ! On conscience we must not infringe. For that should be a sacred hinge : ^Ye love our Queen, support her throne, But conscience is the Lord's alone. Pieligion has too high a source To be upheld by human force. 29 WATER BEWITCHED. Some few yet live, born in this vale, Who oft amuse ns with a tale Eelating what thev saw in youth, WTiich seems almost devoid of truth ; A tale of fiction, wild romance, Invented, merely to enhance A childish feeling of delight. And aid imagination's flight. A license poets often take A dormant feeling to awake And vibrate, whilst v.e wondering trace, Sweet Nature's channs in every place, \\here foot of man has ever trod, For there we see the works of God. 'Tis true these wonders do abound, But uhere such beauties could be found 30 As they affirm existed here, Much like mere fiction does appear, llich pastures in their liveliest green. With hedgerows heautiful between, In which the little birds build nests, Where no rude visitor molests ; And stately trees abounded too : That venerable oak here grew, ^\^lich, Nicholson, the poet, named, For its antiquity so famed. You wonder much, as well you may, To hear what antiquarians say : And others who are young indeed. Our legends wonderful may read, In Bradford's history any time. Which I shall not attempt in rhjTtne, For ancient records you may meet. And find their statements more complete ;■ P'raps what I write may give a zest, For reading all about the rest. There's nauglit like reading you will find. For storing well the youthful mind. 31 Our Parish Church, which long has stood, Was formerly ' Church in the Wood.' Pure water, then, and wood were found Tu rich abundance all around. A rustic village near broad ford — Is Bradford now, immensely stored With wealth, and specimens of art. Which great embellishment imjDart. And then our commerce vast and wide, Has marched with a gigantic stride ; Our manufactures now are found In every town, the world around. ?>Iay industry and skill promote Our trade, and keep it long afloat. And then they name a purling brook, Whose limpid stream meandering topk, In honour of its lofty source, A ri<;hly decorated course, — Is that near Bradford ? pray do tell ! I'll go and look at it myscl !" Yes ; in the toivn, a fearful wreck, W^e call it now the Bradford IJeck. 39 The daisy and tlic primrose pale Abounded once in this our dale : Canal, and far more ancient heck, The;,- then most gorgeously would deck ; For once pure ac^ueous glitter'd here, A beverage some prefer'd to beer. In this pellucid element Were seen what beauties circumvent ; The heavens, avouM all their grandeur show , As clearly mirror'd too beloAV : — Here lofty trees, that proudly stood, Were seen transversely in the flood, And fishes in this element A life in sportive gambols spent. So plump and tempting seem'd the fish, Lads longed to have them in a dish ; So rod* and line with baited hook, Lilce well trained fishermen, they took To test their patience, and their skill ; They Avatched the floating cork and quill For hours, they stood or sat to rest, Their patience underwent a test, Mid'st drizzling rain, and ne'er a bite, — They're going home, 'tis almost night, 33 With empty bellies, wet and cold, And downcast looks, as neighbours told. They -almost vowed to fish no more, That day's success had been so poor, 'I'hey got their suppers — went to bed. This fishing expedition led To gloomy musings, and to sleep — I'or drowsy morplieus would creep So slowly — yet so surely on That all reflection Avas quite gone. V\'eli, what's this fishing tale about? Thoy did not draw the fishes out ! P>ad luck their patience tried that day, This, anglers Oft are heard to say : They'll fish no more, as some foretell, About Broadstones, nor yet Spinkwell. For here such filthy currents mix, As distance far the river Stj-x, Our brooks and rivers ever flow, And modestly convey below ; 'i'hat vile corruption, gather'd here, A purer stream above might clear 34 Away, and distant far remove, What must contaminating prove : Not so when stagnant it remains, It now a direful climax gains ; And pestilential vapours rise. Which faint description here defies ; And yet this filthy, putrid mass, Has heen collected here, alas ! The great desideratum then Is how to make it pure again — Or failing this, most clearly show, Wliich Avay to send it all helow. Our Beck has borne, it is believed. The grossest insults e'er conceived, And scarce a mui-mer ever heard. Save when a dreadful storm has stirred That dull serenity, one sees Inviting our indignities. We cannot justify abuse, But still inventions, for our use, We may and often do adopt Where naught now current would be stopt. Supposing then we throw the cream Of our canal, right down this stream, 35 It might be thouglit a comi^liment, If minus its most sickening scent ; The object here we long have sought, Might be secured, were water brought To make the basin overflow ; 'I'he surface woukl be forced to go, And purer water leave behind — Much more transpai-ent and refined ; Our lowly Beck would take it all, Though quite degraded by the fall. This vile colossal nuisance then No more would vex our council men ; Pure water would as heretofore, Tiefresh our denizens once more. Here noxious elements we find, Which taint deplorably the mind Of youth, comparilively free From deeds of immorality. Which might disgust or perhaps alarm. Yet still som« follies have a cbarni, — 'I'he poor will ape the rich in dress Which often leads to sore distress. 36 For pride and vanity are sure To open wide temptation's door : Tlirough pride we learn the Angels fell, And pride still downward leads to hell ; 'i'iiis weakness drags a fearful train, We must from vanity refrain : Fine feathers make fine birds, 'tis true. But gaudy show alone, wont do ; This must be duly understood, Tlie mind requires some solid food ; A needful and substantial dish, \\'hatever else we vainly wish, Far better we ourselves deny. And strive to live as we would die. (>iir vast emporiums embrace More evils, than we wish to trace ; But still they must be firmly met. To obviate unfeipiied regret. Sound knowledge we should introduce ' On all occasions, found of use ; "Tv'.ill guide the young, support the old,- Its blest results can ne'er be told. 37 The dull realities of truth Present few ciiarms to giddy youth, 'Tis fiction only, or romance Has power to rivit and entrance The thoughts of many whom we find. Professedly, to books inclined : Librarians can supply a test, Which proves what books now take the host ; Komantic tales, p'rhaps based on fact, Tho' not in colouring exact, — So beautiful and charming made, That false impressions are conveyed ; The faults or blemishes we find, As here attached, to all mankind Excite a feeling of disgust, WTiich shakes that ordinary trust. In which through life v/e ought to share. To bear as well as to forbear : To regulate both man and wife, The trials which abound in life, Sound common sense must do its part, Beside what's hidden in the heart ; Reproof, though open, still may prove Of much more worth, than secret love. 38 To boast of heart for mere pretence, Can ne'er atone for want of sense : So colour fiction as you will, Tlie head must regulate you still. Seek knowledge at a proper source. Which flows in no fictitious course : ivcligion and sound sense we see, Show clearly what we ought to be. 39 VISIT TO LOW MOOR IRON WORKS, AND FORWARD TO HALIFAX, In which locality a Mrs. S. of London, spent the early portion of her life : the Lady's reminiscences had such an effect upon her feelings that the ^vriter could not remain unmoved, and promised to reduce the incidents of the €xcm-sion to verse. A promise was made which I wish to fulfil, Tlio' leisure I lack, and I fear also, skill, — The attempt must however be made ; I'liless I commence I shall ne'er reach the end. Reproach I should feel if I slighted a friend. And confidence in me betrayed. Our excursion from Bradford I then must run o'ei", — Jv liCaving here, we arrived in a trice at Low-moor, And prudently sought for a guide : Permission obtained all the works to survey, Our guide (minus hands and an eye) led the way, — What accidents miners betide ! 40 Iron ore we now viewed, in abundance here found. Each process examined with caution all round, For caution is requsite here ; T.arge furnaces, blazing, of such intense heat That metals, quite liquid, flow just at your feet, Like quicksilver rolling appear. \Yhat motley groups here must a livelihood iin.l, ^lidst smoke & midst dust, & with heat almost hi in;!. How much to their labours we owe ! Our polished utensils, so useful and neat. Undergo such a process of labour and heat As very few Londoners know. Here we implements saw of a horrible class, Livented for wholesale destruction, alas I Di'ead cannons, and balls, and bombshells ; INIoy they long remain useless, and piled on a heap, And wavlike contentions for evermore sleep : — Resound the full chorus," Peace on earth dwells.'' Our commerce, we know, must have peace for her soil, Tliere only she'll flourish and smile on our toil, Ann diffuse her rich blessings around : 41 (lood will, and full confidence, fiimly enchain Men's hearts and transactions throughout each domain May peace and ahundance abound. The steam engines here too display their vast po\vcr. Achieving such prodigies, during each hour. As astonish beholders indeed : Huge hammers are work'd with tremendous effect, Iron bars dipt asunder, ere strangers detect, — What substance such force could impede ? Large balls of fused iron these hammers compress, 'J'he means of distension sm-prise you no less, Each in a few seconds of time ! How faint the description of what we saw here I — 1 )cspairing to render the whole process clear, I'll attempt it no further in rhyme. Xow to Halifax forward, thro' hill and thro' dale. No obstacles these when you travel by rail, For rapid indeed was our flight; At the beautiful valley we just take a glance, — 'I'herc's the mountain before, yet we onward advance: Thro' darkness more dismal than night. 49 '• What mingled emotions," you say, " swell my breast. Now arrived near tlie spot where in youth I was blest, What changes since then I have seen ! In infancy left, a poor orphan I came ; To Grandfather Stavely, how dear is the name ! Luke Staveley entombed long has been." Aunt Maria is gone, too, the guide of my youth, Who in virtue's path trained me and a love for the truti i , What most could a female adorn ; Her instruction, so useful, I ne'er shall forget, Her loss I deplore with true heartfelt regret, Alone I am left quite forlorn. For twelve years and upwards a widow I've been, How keen was tbe anguish at that parting scene ! With a babe at my aching breast hung. Who still is my only companion below, Too young, like myself, this bereavement to know. For I was bereft quite as young. We'll now reconnoitre, — where stands the old church I feel like a stranger that's left in the lurch, I fear I shall prove a bad guide ; 43 i) 1 here is the way, we are right now I find, The school-room is yonder, we've left it behind, You may now in your leader confide . To Trinity church-yard I now must repair. For my family's tombstone I hope to find there — Aunt's dwelling we pass on the way ; Ah ! there's the sweet spot.but no house can be found, Steam carriages daily now flit o'er the ground. What havoc since grandfather's day . I ( )ne look more I'll take, wipe the tears from my face, And muse on the changes I've seen in this place, — I go to where changes shall end ; Not a relative left, Lord, be my guide. Ju thy power and goodness alone I confide. To me and my child be a friend. The grave-yard we enter'd in hopes to descry, The spot where lost friends and dear relatives lie, — Each epitaph eagerly scan ; Name after name, I exclaimed, brings to mind The friends of my youth, most endearingly kind, Life verily seems but a span. 44 Here Eawson and Lady, of Hunger Hill, rest, Mrs. Priestley and Edwards who lived at Pie nest,^ The "Walkers, of Crow nest, too, here ; The Greenwoods, of Northgate, lie mouldering among,, And the Haighs who resided at Green Valley long, Have all ended their earthly career. Despairing to meet with the tomb, in vain sought, A stranger assisted, how kind was the thought ! And pointed it out to the eye : What emotions here burst on my now bleeding heart I In silence I stood, whilst gushing tears start — Team show what's implied in a sigh. Adieu, mausoleum, of much honoured dead ! Vain hopes, so illusory, I feel have here fled, I now must enquire who yet live : No news, for mere gossip, I cater to day ; But heartfelt enquiries I make by the way. And gratefully answers receive. Some few still survive whom I knew in my youth ^^^ The list but a short one, — how striking the truth, Like shadows we pass o'er the plain ! 45 Miss Prescott still lives, and the "Wilkinsons too ; The Staveleys, dear name, none left whom I knew. All sti'angeis to me that remain." And now, my dear friend, I've arrived at the end ; But should you complain, I must silent remain. And ponder before I next rhyme : 1 Icnow your good sense must discard mere pretencf, ^''et, for once, apjjear blind to defects which you find — W. H. has but little spare time. 46' ON MOTHER'S DEATH. Our life is but a span, And yet within this space, How many evils wait on man, To try each christian grace ! Tlie nearest ties on earth Are soon dissolved by death ; We cannot then, with songs of mirth. Employ our fleeting breath. Lord, we would not repine, Yet drop the tear we must ; Since thou hast cnll'd us to consign- Our mother to the dust. 47 Her loving, tender care, How often we have prov'cl ; Upon our hearts we long must bear A Mother so helov'd. We know our welfare lay Near, very near her heart ; On our account she long'd to stay, To act a Mother's part. All ! often she would say, And wipe the falling tear, " If ()nd should summon me away, Y.ui'll think of Mother dear." Yes, Mother, we shall think On you, whilst life remains, And mourning oft, our spirits sink, In melancholy strains. Oh ! cutting stroke indeed When we were call'd to part ; Well might our hearts with sorrow bleed, We long must feel the smart. 48 Dear Father's earnest prayer, Nor our most bitter cry, Could move the Lord her life to spare ; — Her time was come to die. To thee we look, Lord — Be Thou the Orphans' friend ; Do Thou all needful good afford. And from each ill defend. Thou can'st our wants supply. For this world and the next ; Tho' Mother's gone, — still Thou art nigh, We would not be pernlex'd 49 LINES ADDRESS!:!) TO COUSIN JOHN HAKRISON, SKIPTOX, AUGUST, 1852. Allow me, dear cousin, iny joy to express, On your finding the fruit in your garden no less. Now safely returned from your ' tour :' Not so mucli for the worth of the fruit that you grow, I Uu from Uie pleasing reflection you have now to know That your property left was secure. Left exposed, in your ahsence, for week after week, riio' marauders abound who most anxiously seek Such chances to enter and steal : All p]-aise be to Skipton 1 such characters there \ri' not to be found, or if found, they are rare, Your neighbours, at least, seek your weal. 50 No Policemen are needed, vile actions, to quell, Where men of true honour in harmony dwell, And virtue ennobles the heart : Tlieve confidence firm, and good feeling abound. May conduct as noble be ev'rywhere found ■ And conscience perform such a part. I urn fully convinced that your worth is 'st'-ell known, J^y conduct like this it is quite clearly sho-svn, That your neighbours will do you no harm ; Your kindness to them and to all whom you know, Kngenders those feelings, whence such actions flow. As distance, all fear or alann. To those who best knoAv you I'm sure you're endeared. Your conduct admired, and your virtues revered, How cheering to me is the thought ! May your life, far advanced, be ended in peace, And heavenly blessings abound and increase. — These blessings you so long have sought. 51 LINES >tDDr.IiSSED TO SON WILLIAM ON HIS EMIGRATISO TO AUSTRALIA. l^'arewell, dear William, may you l)e Preserved and blessed thro' life ; (iod shower his blessings constantly,. • On you and your dear wife. U'hough you have left dear friends behind, Who must your loss bemoan, 'J'his hope shall cheer, that you must tind Kind treatment^ when you're known. 62 May you find favour in men's sight. Wherever you may roam, God's countenance on you beam light. His blessing mark your home. The Lord preserve you on the deep. Shall be your father's prayer, The Lord preserve, and bless, a,nd keep You safe beneath his care. May you in safety reach the shore And see your brother's face, Together talk past mercies o'er, — God's gracious dealings trace. May you and Ellen long enjoy True comfort whilst on earth. And grateful songs your hearts employ. In strains of heavenly birth. (Ji-'d bless you, William, you have been Affectionately kind, Youi' tender love has long been seen, By those you leave behind. 53 I fee], but dare not trust my pen. Those instances to give, I ne'er must see your like again, So long as I shall live. Your loss "we all feel bitterly ; In sympathy we moum : Yom- now lone brother John, and she Who gTieves lilie one forlorn, — Eliza dear, has lost a friend. The solace of her youth ; How cheerfully would you attend To every call ! — a friend in truth. Your vocal strains have often proved,. A source of true delight. For none could sit and hear, unmoved. Your Trios cheered the night. One voice is hushed, as if by death. No more to lend a strain. At least so long as 1 have breath. Shall I be cheered again. 54 Mav we all meet when Time is o'er, Where parting never pains ; llejoice and sing, for evermore, In pure seraphic strains. And now, a:lieu ! my son adieu ! This is your father's prayer — "I'hat vi>r is there always sickness sent As harhinger of death, a space in which we might repent llefore, we yield our breath. 63 No ; dangers press on every side, By mortals unforseen ; What dire catastrophes betide, — Plow shocking this hath been ! Dear doctor, thou wast summon'd hence, Nor timely warning found ; No means afforded for defence Against the mortal Avound. No surgeon, skill'd in pharmacy, Thy sufferings could relieve. No human aid could rescue thee, Or give a short i-eprievc. When others were with pain opprcss'd, Thou Y.ould'st thy skill employ, To give the suffering patient rest, And make him sing for joy. How oft in nature's trying hour Didst thou thy aid impart; Thy skill and kindness gave thee power, To cheer the mother's heart. 64 Thy kiud attention now is o'er Thy labours at an end ; Thy loss, dear doctor, we deplore, Thou wast indeed a friend. But who the anguish shall portray^ Felt by thy wife and son ? Deprived at once of all their stay. They feel themselves undone. Thy tender partner well may mourn Thy melancholy end : Ah ! cruel death thou'st rudely torrr From her, her dearest friend. And who can thinli of that dear ^outh Without a sigh or tear '? Now brooding o'er the dismal truth, " I've lost my father dear ! A tender father he, — well skill'd In his profession too ; / might have been ; but father's kill'd T Ah me ! what shall I do ?" 65 Yom* loss is great but don't repine, Against the Lord most high ; The stroke is not without design, — It calls, " Prepare to die." Our days are number'd in his sight. Our life is but a span ; That God, the Judge of all doth riglit Must be confess'd by man. Submission is the only way To still the troubled mind ; Trust in the Lord from day to day And strive to be resigned. 60 WEITTEN DrPJXG A JOURNEY TO UNCLE PHILIP'S, BROUGHTON. What trying scenes we witness here. Which ever way we roam ; Sad changes mark the rolling year Such I have seen at home. No greetings now with tearless eyes ! Death's oft-repeated blow Again hath severed here those ties— So binding whilst below. rninterruptcd harmony, As every friend can say, J a this most lovely family. Maintained a peaceful sway. Well may your hearts with sorrow bleed. Deprived of those so dear, When stroke on stroke alas ! succeed Within one trying year. And sad affliction threatens still To huny to the grave, Lord, grant submission to thy will And show thy power to save. If death again must draw his dart, Alas ! who can withstand ; May tliose with whom we're call'd to part. Be found at thy right hand. May children there with father meet, In answer to his prayer, Thou canst the gracious work complete. We would not, Lord, despair. Our days arc numbered in thy sight. Our lifo is but a span, That God, the Judge of all, doth right Must be confessed by man. Thy pardoning mercy. Lord, bestow. Prepare us by thy grace To suffer all we meet below, And run the heavenly race. C8 ON THE DEATH OF COUSIN THOMAS HARRISON, OF SKIPTON. The curse denounced on all The race of sinful man, In consequence of Adam's fall, We feel throughout life's span. No lasting comforts spring From nature's cursed soil ; Our joys are ever on the wing,- Our life is pain and toil. Afflictions, care, and woe. From sin's polluted stain, Through life in sad succession flow,- And death concludes the train. 69 Thou, clear departed friend, Hast had thy share of grief; To heaven thy cries would oft ascend For succour and rehef. Thy bosom often heaved With cares oppressive load, And hadst thou not in God believ'd, Thou'dst fainted on the road. Oft thou in humble strains Thy sins and guilt confess'd — For such there verily remains A sweet, eternal rest. Thy loss we all regret To us so much endeared. That countenance we can't forget, Which oft our spirits cheer'd. Thy pleasing humour too In harmless strains would flow : The tale from thee was ever new. Who can thine equal show ',' 70 No enmity or spleen Evinc'd to foe or friend ; In all thy sallies it was seen Thou never could'st offend. I5y men of high degree Th}' company was sought, For all thy mirth and pleasantry With innocence was fraught. *o' Thy mimic poAvers were such As distanced each compeer : 'Twas thou alone could'st give the touch So comical and queer. 'Twas nature form'd thee so : No j)upil thou of art ; Thy wit would native genius shoA\', Original and smart. There might be some inclin'd Thy faults to magnify ; But Where's the man in whom we find No weakness to descry ? 71 Thou frankly wouldst confess Thy ignorance and sin — Xo christian ever boasted less Of purity Avithin. Perfection in vile man, Formed no part of thy creed ; Thy faith er.iLraced that only plan By which from guilt we are freed. Thy heaven born soul has gained That peaceful, blissful shore, Where imperfections, that remained, Shall trouble thee no more. And now the hand of death Has hush'd thy vocal powers ; May love divine, whilst we have breath, Attune more loudly ours. ox THE DEATH OF GEOKGE WILLTA:\r WRIGHT, AGED SIX YEARS. Sweet little boy, beloved by all That knew tbv risinf? worth. How soon hast thou receiv'd the call To mix with kindred earth ! Not all thy youthful chaniis could stay Death's cruel, fatal deed ; Thou suddenly art torn away From those whose hearts now bleed, Thou'st bid adieu to parents dear. And little sisters too, Who long for thee will shed the tear. And oft their grief renew. FROM BROTHER THOMAS ON THE DEATH OF MOTHER. My dear Brother William, I beg to address you By first craving pardon for seeming neglect ; If auglit I could write would in any way bless you, You'd soon see forthcoming that mark of respect. The subject so solemn, which form"d your last letter, Came duly to hand, with its contents so drear ; Indulge but the hope, for our loss she is better. The consequence soon will be wiping the tear. By faith then draw sideways the curtains of glory, And see your dear motter in mansions of bliss ; 'Tis the hope of our calling, and not a vain story — Redemption has lai.l a foundation for this. 74 Infirmities here fetter down the pure spirit. Restricting her praises, and forcing a moan ; But infinite blessings true mourners inherit, With Christ in his kingdom, encircling his throne-^ Farewell, dear departed, thy countenance never Shall lack a sweet smile in the regions of love ; Thy pains, sighs and sorrows, have ended for ever,- — - •Toy, peace and true friendship, dwell with thee above. Let us, my dear Brother, be quickened to follow Our father, and mother — and sisters — so dear; That death, with his dart may not fill us with sorrow^ By showing the horrors of hell at his rear. ON SNUFF. S ir, I thank you for the snuff, N umbei's would pronounce such stuffj- U seless as tobacco's puff, F ew such statements I'll rebuff, F riendship's shewn, and that's enough. ON MINISTERS' USING THE 2nd PERSONAL PRONOUN TOO OFTEN. Whene'er man's ignorance is portrayed, His sin and weakness set in view ; Such general truths when right conveyed, Prove none exemi^t nor me nor you. Our heavenly guides ai'e only men, Men of like sinful passions too ; Reproofs and admonitions then Suit number one as well as you. The man who hopes that he may pass, As an exception from this ti'uth. May say " you all have sinn'd alas ! You sin in age, you sinn'd in youth." " We all have err'd and gone astray," The man of God of old confessed, And humble christians still will say " Thy laws Lord, we have transgi'css'd." ON THE DEATH OF MY BELOVED COUSIN, THE REV. JOHN HARRISON, STRETTON-UNDER-FOSSE. Departed friend, beloved by all That knew thy sterling worth ; How suddenly has come the call Which summoned thee from earth. Our greetings, when with joy we met. Were heartfelt and sincere ; Such intei'views one can't forget — Looked for in vain this year. That countenance, which beamed with love, Hath vanished from our sight, To smile on saints,, enthroned above. In robes of spotless white. 77 Rejoined with those beloved below Thou singest in the skies : No sorrow those bright mansions know — • Adieu ! to weeping eyes. Although our loss is thy great gain, (A blest exchange for thee,) Thine absence here inflicts a pain — "We feel it bitterly. Thy love unfeigned and counsels fraught With wisdom from on high, Such ready consolation brought. As checked the rising sigh. Thy noble mind, with learning stored, Enrich'd by heavenly grace, To loftiest regions sprightly soared ; We fain those flights would trace. TI^c welfare of thy flock was sought Devoutly, and with zeal, The truth proclaimed, conviction wrought, For thou, thyselfdidst feel. 78 God's truth is mighty and is felt Wlien hy his spirit sealed ; The preacher feels, the callous melt, And broken hearts are healed. What man more firmly could rely Upon the spirit's aid? Thy trust was in the Lord most high- Self in the dust was laid. Adieu, dear John, it must be so ; Thine image still we see. For memory will not let thee go, Our hearts are still with thee. ' AN ACROSTIC TO MY FIRST WIFE. jVly heart in love witli tliee became, In viewing first thy lovely frame ; Such charms in thee I do behold, Sure love like mine can ne'er grow cold. Engaged with such a charming fair, Life would be sweet with all its care .; Intentions good sometimes may fail. Zeal, urged by love, sure will avail. And love like mine I hope prevail. Joy glows at heart whilst now I write, On thee my thoughts rove with delight, Whilst gazing on thy lovely face. Endearments of the mind I trace. There modesty and worth combine, Tell me fate ! must she be mine ? 80 FEOM BROTHER JOHN. When I like you am deep in love, I perhaps a poet too may prove ; Bnt -when that period will arrive. Is quite unknown to all alive. To tell the truth I've often strove : Indeed sometimes I've been in love I Yet hitherto it's been my fate That all my love has turn'd to hate. There surelj- must some reason he For love thus always leaving me ; And as you have I think some skilly Will thank vou if vou will reveal. 81 For my part I do really tliink That rightly to cement and link The female must possess more charms Than any I've had in my arms. No ^vender you should love so long, When hound by charms so very strong As those that in Eliza meet : No doubt your interviews are sweet. From what I've heard, she does posses?, Both beauty, wit, and cheerfulness ; And that which does more firmly bind, A graceful and accomplished mind. When in one person these unite, No wonder us poor men they smite, At once we're pierced by Cupid's dart, And but too often have to sriiart. They arc best off' that can withstand. This soul bewitehing lovely band ; For they enjoy a tranquil mind. While no such thing true lovers fimL 82 i(jood men 'tis said will marry soon. And u good wife's a heavenly boon :; J>ut of wise men, 'tis further said, Such things ne'er trouble e'en their heacL But well you know I love the sex, And many a time it does me vex, That I can't meet with one who will Creation's end with me fulfil. Almighty God did ne'er intend Us men alone our days to spend ; And if I be but clothed and fed, I do declare I will be wed. INIay we both meet with wives whose care Will be to seek for heavenly fare ; And may we, in whatever station, .Never forget our souls salvation. 83 ADDEESSED TO MRS. PRESTON, ox THE DEATH OF HER STEP-FATHER, WHO DIED IX HIS 92nd, teae, dec. 15th, 1842, paixley. Dear Cousin Maria you press on me so To send a few lines, that I cannot say no, Although I you require them in ilnme ; Your love and good nature I really admire. And to make some return I sincerely desire. To refuse your request were a crime. The flutt'ving opinion which you entertain, Of efforts so paltry might make me quite vaiu, That I am a poet forsooth ! Alas 1 my dear cousin, I ne'er must exploi*e, Those regions to which a true poet can soar, My rhyming is even uncouth I 84 My faults pray then pardon for many you'll find Unless your good nature has made you quite bhnd : How much one may owe to one's name ! Ajwlogies often we hear from the great, Who, seemingly humble, so modestly state How much of our candour they claim. You really will wonder ere this, — what comes next, •' This long introduction proves William perplexed," Indeed you are right, it is time : 'Tis thus with speech makers, some find to their cost Ideas the simplest, confounded or lost When wanted in clearest review. We hear with concern of your late father's death, His life, though a long one, seems only a breath, When now it is over and past ; Though long he was vigorous, sprightly and hale. He felt those infirmities age must entail. And vielded his breath at the last. W^ere I but to glance at the changes he saw, In our arts and machinery, commerce and law. In polities, church, and the state ; 85 Too much would be furuisli'd for my head and pen. To attempt at the present. — I may write again, When better prepar'd to dilate. Had I time for reflection I surely might find Some topics to exercise duly my mind, And make a most brilliant display ! But at present I'm fully engaged in the school. Enforcing instruction by precept and rule, Employs me both evening and day. ON WRITING. W^ hen writing I must six points mind : R egard the slope, mai'k how inclined ; I n distance, downstrokes must agree, T he turns alike should also be ; I must at equal strength too aim, N or carelessly connect the same ; G reat care long letters lastly claim. 86 TO FEED, AT CRAKE MOOE, You know, dear Fred, what ever's said. Should always be from blunders free, And when you use the pen, Form letters well, mind how you spell. And not dispense with common sense; It may be seen again. A thoughtful boy will time employ. By day or night, to do things right, Nor careless be at play ; He then Avill find that boys should mind. To be polite, and use words right, — Their grammar thus display. But why in rhyme, thus take up time ? I fear it must excite disgust, Although I would amuse ^ 8T Some other day, I more may say, With good intent, time's not misspent, When we our talents use. I hope your off may cure your cougli, That we may learn, on your return, You eat your food with zest : I need not dwell — we wish you well : I'll come and see you presently, And talk about the rest. 1 just will say whilst you're away, I hold the key, and go to see Poor puss each night and morn : Take milk quite new, and flesh meat too^ She has her food, as all cats should, She is not quite forlorn. She's rather shy, and scampers by, When open door she sees before ; She wonders where you are : And so she seeks, but no one speaks, And trots about, to find you out. Sometimes she trots too far. 88 The other night, when scarcely Hght, ■1 hastened o'er, as heretofore, Unlock'd the door with care ; Just took a peep, hop'd puss might sleep. When off she ran, upset my plan, — She went I know not where. 1 much regret, the night was wet, And puss away, I could not stay, Dejected, home I went ; You may suppose, next morn I rose, In hopes that she might seek for me. And prove that cats repent. Well, I declare puss was not there, Morn, noon, and night, still out of sight. Kind neighbours sought in vain : One night and day she kept away, The second night, puss thought it right To enter home again. She's now laid snug on her soft rug, And purrs away, she seems to say — There's no place like sweet home : 89 And, more than puss, no doubt tliiuk tlms. Who leave behind protectors kind, And without sanction roam. Ere this week end I hope to spend A day or two with pa and you, And range about Crake-moor : Puss soon will learn when you return : With tail erect you may expect She'll meet you at the door. ON SEEING A SUBSCRIPTION CARD COVERED WITH FLY DIRT. Poor C — 11 — ns, thy feelings indeed must be hurt, To find no donations excepting Fly dirt : Thy jolly companions so friendly in drink, Now sober, can leave thee in misery to sink. G 90 iRIGHTFUL STORIES— THE HAUNTED LANE. To fill tlie heads of hopeful youth With frightful tales devoid of truth, Presents to some a baneful charm, llsflicting thus a lasting harm, la'jpressions false mislead the mind Of children, to suspicion blind; However foolish or absurd The tale you tell, the whole is heard Arid treasured up as fact, of course, llroceeding from authentic source. JSkanc nurses, yea, and mothers too, • Most thoughtlessly this plan pursue : "• If you're not good, mark what I say, Blask man shall take you all away." 91 A cliimney sweep unnen^es them quite, They really tremble at the sight ; His poke, they're told, he means to fill "With n&ughty hoys that wont sit still — Or failing to maintain control, Du'e threats direct to some dark hole, \Miere Betty says she'll shut them up And give them neither bite nor sup. 'Tis cruel thus to rack the mind Of timid youth, too much inclined, Midst howling blast, near midnight hour, A frightful story to devour. Now seated round a dying fire Companions meet, they all desire To hear some tale or other told Respecting what transpired of old ; Some much amuse, some chill with fear, They tremble at each sound they hear ; Should door now creak, or embers fall 'Twould doubtless paralize them all : One talc diverts, another's told Which ma\es their very blood run cold. 9-2 The thought that they will have to part Most painfull)' afieets the heart : The night is dark, the journey drear, In vain they strive to hanish fear; Now cogitating what they've heard Eroad daylight would be much preferred, " How dark it is! as hlack as pitch ! Who would not fear a ghost or witch? We'll not stir out v.'ithout a guide In whom we safely may confide ;- So pray allow your servant man To go with us, do, if you can." " Yes, certainly, its dark to night. And roads are bad- — -the lantern light." They thought their host more than polite And thanking him, tliey wished "good night/' They soon reached home and went to bed ; But late impressions had not fled, Nor would they perhaps for years to come, No doubt, retained through life by some. I must confess when young like you I suffered much from tales not true ; But one through life, I can't forget, Though telling it might cause regret:- 03 'The gentleman himself told me, A man of strict veracity, Himself the fearful sight beheld 'Which raised dread terror not soon ciuclled So courage take, whilst I relate — Nauu'ht hut the truth will I here^^tate. I scarcely know how hest to start. Lest I implant a fearful dart. One dismal night, "twixt twelve and one, With fearful steps he travelled on, In hopes his wished for home to gain Which lay beyond the *• Haunted lane :" iiso other way was so direct. Although dread sights he might expect To see, as others had before That dared those regions to explore. The spot is reached, awhile he stood. And mustered courage as he could ; Moved slowly on, when full in sight, He saw an object dressed in white ! It disappeared, then came again, Who can describe his feelings then? 04 Revisits him as heretofore, The times might count to half-a-score ;. Perhaps a legion near him stood, Enough to chill a mortal's hlood. The lane is passed, he makes a pause And wonders what can he the cause Of such nocturnal visits made. "I'm yet alive, why thus afraid? A mystery invests this place ; My footsteps I must now retrace, I scarcely now have power to move, Yet still I would true valour prove : No harm has yet befallen me, I must make out this mystery ; If spared to live throughout this night — They're here again ! a host in white ! Like sentinels in order stand. No douht 'tis some angelic hand Commissioned hither to unfold Some horrid deed that must he told. They might to me their errand state. And I, if spared, could all relate. 95 Tliey still maintained their silent stand As when first seen at my right hand ; If possible, I'll cross the fence, And find out what distracts my sense ; Sad apprehension makes me quail, !My feeble strength, I fear, will fail : Trembling I looked another time, And now beheld ! some heaps of lime ! .'" 'Tis cruel work then to destroy, Or weaken what in girl or boy, Should ever be throughout life found, A judgment, rational and sound. 90 RHYMING AT WORDSWORTH COTTAGE DURING HAY TIME. This way I now pass To examine the glass, I'm concerned for your grass When seen in a mass, May none say alas ! "Unfit for an ass!" May the bright Orb of day In effulgence display His soul-cheering ray, Make Nature quite gay And gloom fly away. For a harvest I pray, That each Farmer may say, "Our horses now neigh At the scent of sweet hay." 97 Look gratefully back, Be.trace the whole track, No fear now of lack, Good hay is in stack. Though you boast not of breed, Yet vou value vour steed, AVhat horse can exceed Your INIerryleg's speed, And less whipping need '.' He is willing indeed And must take the lead, Nor is it agreed, Whilst our praises proceed. That beauty accede. To be robb'd of his mca'l ; Fred's heart would soon bleed For each then we plead And both kindly feed- 98 AN ACROSTIC ADDRESSED TO THE GROOM. Sol must, as Fred requests T ry to rhyme what he suggests, E ven though I may not use P oets' license with the muse, H overing round this pleasant cot, E very rhymer courts her not, N or detains her on the spot. P leading mercy's cause I may E xercise myself this way : C lemency, you'll find succeed, K indness to a willing steed ; O I no cause exists for fear, V irtue prompts to kindness here ; E ach to mercy is inclined ! R iders gentle, and groom kind. 99 TOO DEAR A GIFT FROM PERNAMBUCO. 3Iy dear Mr. Youll, 'tis always my rule, Politely to show that I gratitude owe When favours are kindly bestowed : Your present of snuff shows clearly enough ,- Your earnest desire to fan friendship's fire, Tho' distant so far our abode. I greatly regret, a barrier was set \\'hich served to defeat, my enjoying the treat, Tho' your kindness was nothing the less Seven shillings in duos, appeared in my views Such a monstrous demand, for even our land, As disgusted me quite, I confess. The' your kindness- was lost, its exorbitant cost Aione was the cause, I could not but pause And utter indignantly — '-nay." 100 1 must now decline to make tlie snuff mine, X really wont flinch, though I long for a pinch — Too much for my whistle to pay. Think not, my dear friend, that I wish to offend Or any way slight, because out of sight. One so much esteemed by my Avife. Your kindnesses ptist, not excepting the last. Are frequently named, tho' sometimes I'm blamed For lacking politeness in life. iBut pardon, I pray, a Yorksliireman's way Who would not offend, his own or wife's friend. By anything rude or unkind. Were I not too old, the truth must be told. With my excellent wife I might better my life. And elevato duly my name I But now it is time to end my rude rhyme. Accept, my dear friend, what all of us send Sincere and well meaning respects. Tho' my style is uncouth, I have written the truth. Kind forbearance then show, and soon let me know That you pass over all my defects. 101 A DIRGE. ON DICKEY'S DEATH, Poor Dickey is indeed now dead, I\Iy dream has come to pass ; ^Mysterious agency that led To shew thy doom, alas f Thy IMistress sheds for thee a tear ; For her thy love was triie ; She mourns thy loss, her grief 's ainccrs; At bidding thee adieu. Thy sparkling eye and tuneful song, Bespeak thy joy no more ; Thy beauteous forai she'll ti'casure long. Though greetings now are o'ci-. 102 AN ACROSTIC ox THE OPENING OF THE BRADFORD MECHAKICS' INSTITUTE, 1840. T awdry shows weak minds excite, H igher objects here invite, E ach inspection would requite : B radford offers now a treat, E are attractions here you meet ; A rtificial grottos lead D own to caverns dark indeed, F ountains pure fantastic play n surrounding foliage gay ; E ural cots in classic taste — D etails can't be named in haste. E xhibitions, such as these, X enophon himself might please : H ere you pleasant hours may spend, 1 ntellectual feasts attend : 103 13 usiness may be aided too, I f Mechanics interest you; T lades remote, and some our own, I n their process here are shewn : O pcned wide are stores of art — N one repining hence depart. AN ACROSTIC. A rlthmetic teaches us how to compute, K csolving by numbers what none can refute ; I n each operation distinctly we see T hat truth is divested of all mystery : II ypothesis given must furnish the clue, M isconstrue your data, it cannot prove true; E ndeavour first clearly to see what you want, T he reason for this you will readily grant ; I nventions have paved the path you have to trcad- C ousider what others have written and said. 104 ON :my fortieth birth-day. Tills Jay completes my fortieth year, 3Iy life I would review ; The mercies I've experienced here Arc neither small nor few. Some trials too have been my lot, But why should I complain ; Let not past goodness he forgot, God does not smite in vain. My life through mercy has been spared. And comforts still abound ; By sin I've been too oft ensnared, Let pardoning grace be found. 105 TO WILLIAM, ON THE DEATH OF HIS FIRST CHILD, IN AUSTRALIA. A sympathetic feeling lends The aching heart no small relief, • 'Our sorrows shared by tender friends Alleviates and calms our grief. o*- This balmy opiate softly soothes Our drooping spirits in distress : The rugged path it gently smooths, Or makes us feel its roughness less. Your father mourns when you arc sad. You have his tender sympathy, For sore bereavements he has had. Death's darts have pierced repeatedly. 106 Botli Pra-ents, Brotliers, Sisters gone,- Dear Wife, and lovely Children too: Not streaming tears could rescue one, Relentless death his arrows threw. Two sons beloved, now distant far, Whom I on earth must never meet — To feel resigned involves a war, That proves submission incomplete. Dear son and daughter, strive to be Submissive to high heavens behest ; By faith your lovely Infant see. Now anchor'd safe where all are blest. May we yet spared, be made through grace^ Blest subjects of the second birth; At length find heaven our resting place^ That rest succeeds our toil on earth. 107 ON THE REV. ME. DRAKE'S VISIT AS A PROBATIONARY SUPPLY. Let us Iiope ]Mr. Draue Has not scattered in vain The pure precious grain. Those truths that sustain Midst sorrow and pain ; If God so ordain, May he come and remain And sound doctrine maintain,. That at last we may gain The heavenly plain And there join the sweet strain, " To the Lamb that was slain For ever to reign. Hallelujah ! Amen." 108 % THE DEATH OF G. W. WEIGHT. Siseet little boy, beloved by all That knew thy rising worth, Biflusiug a halo of graces around : ith his heirs : There — there I this soul of mine From sorrow shall be i'ree ; Arrayed in glory all divine, Shall dwell, Lord, with thee: 132 That lionor'd house, where God designs To hear and answer prayer, More glorious than a palace shines To each true worshiper. The King of Sion there confines His more immediate power ; There baffles Satan's deep designs, While we his gi'ace adore. Within her walls the saints are found : And messengers of peace Proclaim the Gospel's joyful sound, Christ's kingdom to increase. 'O^ The spirit comes with power divine To bless the words they drop ; And make the path of duty shine, And cheer our dying hope. May we a social loving band, Promote each others good ; And shew whilst in this barren land. We're washed in Jesus' blood. 133 Dear Saviour, lend a gracious hear. To a poor suppliant's ciy ; In mercy wipe the falling tear, Before I faint and die. Oft have I sought thy pardoning lo-\ e, And prayed for quickening grace ; But thy compassion doth not move ; But still thou hid'st thy face ; And shall I then a victim fall To thy avenging rod, No ; hear my prayer, and let me call Thee a forgiving God. Then, through thy grace, I'll serve thee Lei'Cy And tell what Thou hast done ; That sinners still may know and fear. The holy three in one. 134 THE PEOGRESS OF ADVICE, A COMMON CASE. ^Said llichard to Thomas, and seemed half afraid, ^'I'm thinking of marrying thy Mistress's maid : Now since the Miss Lucy to thee is well known, I'll do it if thou bid me, or let it alone. Nay, don't make a jest on't, 'tis no jest to me, Eor fait! I'm in earnest, so prithee be free. I've no fault to find with the girl since I knew her. But I'd have thy advice, ere I tie myself to her." Said Thomas to Pdchard, "to give my opinion, There's not such a hag in king George's dominion ; And, faith, if thou knew her as fully as I do, Thou'dst choose out a whipping-post first to be tied to: She's peevish, she's thievish, she's ugly, she's old, A liar, a fool, a slut, and a scold." Next day, Richard hasten'd to >ehurch to be wed, And, ere night, had informed her what Thomas had said. 135 WRITTEN BY MY FATHER ON THE ASCENT OF A BALLOON. My soul, review that glorious day. When Christ went up the angelic way To take possession of his throne. And reign for ever, King — alone. He rode triumphant in the air ; His complete victories to declare. The heavenly gates He opened wide : For all who in His name confide. His dear disciples left helow, With wonder gaze, and long to go, To see him wear his glorious crown, Whilst heaven resounds with joys unknown. Seraphic hosts around him wait As he ascends the heavenly gate : How glorious He ! who once was slain : How glorious i when he comes again. 136 No longer gaze, ye chosen few, For Christ hath other work for you : Go forth and sound his grace abroad, For now he reigns, the Incarnate God. How vain are all the arts of men,'] To ride upon the air again : No wealth or knoAvledge can they gain, To recompense their toil and pain. But if my thoughts can mount on high, And every sin, throughlgrace, now die One day, I shall ascend the air. And meet my blessed Jesus there. -:o:- i '3 7 LINES ON ENGLISH GRAMMAR. As verses may be learned with ease, You are presented with a few On Graramar, hoping they may please, Because designed to profit you. In order, then, we must define Nine sorts of words, or pirts of speech ; What most imjwrtant, too, assign, And give some rules respecting each. The Articles then first will stand. Before the nouns they take their place, And some attention here demand : A, an, and tJie their names cxin'ess. Ill lefinite a refers to man, As any man, hut shows not which ; Observe, a must be changed to an Before a vovcel, or r.inte h. 138 But the we term the definite, Because it shows the one we mean ; Precisely pointed out by it, The one, identical, is seen. A Noln's the name of any thhuj. Or of a person, or a place ; This you may read, or you may sing, But notice Number, Gender, Case. The number, one or more may be; By gender we distinguish sex ; For case, with the apostrophe, (') These lines peruse, lest it perplex. Prefixed to s, when singular, f's) In the irregidar plurals too ; Annexed alone it should appear, {s'J When plural s is placed in view. An Adjective describes a noun. As rough, or smooth, or round or square ; Or what you please of thing or town ; But cautious be when you compiare. 139 Long Adjectives, you'll bear m mind, By more and most form their degrees ; Say, " studious, learned or refined; — \\e don't add er or est to these. Both more and er, or est and most. We never use to any word ; Should you do this, pray never boast Of having heads with grammar stor'd. Nouns oft repeated tire the ear, So Pkonovns we must use instead; Thus — " God with goodness crowns the year, By him we are preserved and fed." In gender, number, person too, The pronouns with their nouns agree : Assign to each what is its due. Or you destroy their harmony. llmploy not the Objective case Where Nominative is required ; jConfuaion here is siire disgrace : Your close attention is desired. 140 The nominative case must sny Who are, or do, what we relate ; The words, " /, tJion, he, she, ire, they,'' Arc in this case, or leading state. "Me, thee, hir, her, us, them," here stand, That both these cases you may view ; Ghjectivcs, active verlis dei/iaiiJ, And prepositions govern too. Two fiilsc examples follow here, And both of them are wrong in case ; — " To you and I these things are cleai-, But John and him their words misplace. ''^ A Verb denotes to he, or do, Likewise to suffer or enjoy ;■ " I am, I love, I'm loved by yon," Are instances we might employ. With thousands more we here can't name : In every sentence one vre see, In nwnher, iwrson, eacli the same, As nominative case may be. 141 We to the verb, six things allot, Which irx this order sliould be said ;. First state, if rerfular or not ; 1^ past Rud perfect end with eel. The Jciiul of vc)-b you notice hero, If Active, 01- if Neuter, say : The Passire form will oft ajipear : — "Am paid," is from verb active, "pay." Its jjersou, and its munher too, You next attentively should trace : A careless glance here will not do. — Observe your nominative case. Then Tense and Mood, or mode anJ time Of acting, you must not mistake : ilark what is said in prose or rhyme. Or you will no improvement make. The Advi:t{bs on the verbs attend, Time, phtce, or inaiincr to declare : Each circumstance we comjprehcud ; They clearly show how, %dien, or ivhere. 149 Besides the adverbs oft combine With adjectives and adverbs too ; To strengthen them is their design, An.d bring their changes into view. When adverbs have theiv proper place, They charm the ear, improve the sense ; Add beauty, clearness, strength, and grace,- Essentials of true eloquence. The Prepositions serve to show In what relation things appear To those around ; — by them we know If in, or at, beyond or near. To nouns and pronouns they refer. And govern the objective case : As prepositions oft occur, Mark well what after them you place. The prepositions ne'er attend Verbs active, you will recollect ; But 7ieuter verbs they oft befriend. And follow them with due respect. 143 Conjunctions words togetlier join. And sentences they oft connect ; Same moods and tenses they combine, Nor words alike in case reject. When several nouns are joined by and, Though singular each one may be, The verbs and inonouns they demand Are in the plural constantly. But when disjoined by or, or nor. The singular we then employ ; Thus, " John and George are happy ; for No evil deed nor wish givts^oy." The Interjections now appear. They show some passion of the mind ; As sorrow, joy, surprise, or fear : "Alas ! dear /" are of the kind. "St. John's College, Cambridge. Deak Sik, " I have much pleasure in bearing testimony to the very upeful education I received whilst under your- care as a pupU, es;pecially in English Grammar, and the Elementary Mathematics, comprising a thorough course of Arithmetic, and tlie principles of Mensuration and Algebra. I mention these subjects in particular, not only because I consider them the most important paiis of a SOUND cojJMERciAf. EDUcu'iox, but also, becausG I have generally found gentlemen -srho have taken an interest in the education of young persons, have prefeiTed them as the safest criterion by which to estimate both the proficiency of the piipil, and the natui-e of the instruction imparted. "The 3IETH0D, too, which is adopted at your school, is well calculated to engage the interest and attention of the pupil, to win his aHisctions, and also to imjn-ove his under- standing ; for I kaow nothing so well adapted to this as that patient, complete, and oft-repeated explanation which so characterized your teaching, and which, as an element of success to an instructor of youth, is so necessaiy, that, wherever it is wanting, there is always a coiTesponding deficiency in the scholar. For my own part, I am glad that I was ever placed under your care, and embrace this as an opportunity of thanking you for the untiring pains and unceasing care which you bestowed upon me. I am, dear Sii-, Yoiirs very respectfully and afiectionately, Mr. Wm. Harrison, H. SEED, B.A." Bradford. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 10M-1 1-50(2555) 470 REMINSTON RAND - 20 PR 4759 H424f UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 370 104 ilittl: lllltlllilllllllllllllHilHIiiilH