THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
NINEVEH,
THE BIRTH OF BURNS,
TWO ESSAYS,
^Ttb rrt^tr ^oms nvcb ^ontttts.
EDWARD GEORGE KENT.
" I am no poet, or a wit, or sage,
For numerous failings dwell upon my page ;
But as truth's simple, if it reigneth there.
Ye learn'd reviewers, pray my volume spare."
E. G. K.
BOSTON : JOHN MORTON,
PRINTER, BOOKSELLER, AND STATIONER, MARKET PLACE.
LONDON : SIMPKIl^T, MARSHALL, AND CO.
1859.
[entered at stationers' hall.]
UOSTON: JOHN MOETON, MARKET PLACE.
PR
/nr\^
TO
JOHN AETHUR ROEBUCK, ESQ., M.P.,
(by permission.)
THIS LITTLE WORK
%'j DrMrairir,
WITH DUE SUBMISSION AND SINCERE RESPECT,
BY
HIS VERY HUMBLE AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR.
816664
PREFACE.
It may seem strange that I, blessed with so few-
advantages of wit or genius — requisites so indispen-
sable in these aifairs — should present to the public a
volume of unfinished effusions ; and I certainly feel
abashed at the reception it deserves in those illus-
trious circles in which it has been my good fortune
to secure its introduction. I am but seventeen
years of age ; consequently, my kind readers cannot
wonder at the lack of stage thoughts and ideas,
better known to more experienced persons. To the
public I am nearly unknown, except through the
columns of different papers to which I have sub-
scribed my futile compositions.
The first title I selected for my little work was
" May Fair, and other Poems," but being only partly
acquainted with the legends, traditions, &c., of this
ancient borough, I thought it advisable to defer that
portion for sundry corrections until a more seasonable
opportunity. My poem on the birth of Burns was
certainly a scanty ear by the side of the cereal gem
of Miss Craig, but as it was allowed to contain a little
corn, that authority of justice amply rewarded its
lowly author. My "Twa Brigs of Boston" is in
humble imitation of the Caledonian's " Brigs of Ayr,"
intended to show the respect and deference due to
old age from youth, an important matter too often
forgotten by the runagates of human life. But as it
would occupy too large a space in commenting on
the different portions of my little volume, in a word,
I beg to say it has been my sincere desire to spread
VI PREFACE.
throughout the whole one general system, which is
the aim at truth and virtue, expunging all remarks
that would be likely to produce simple fancies in the
minds of my young readers, endeavouring to esta-
blish on its page the grand principles of justice and
morality ; to delineate the varied beauties of nature,
and faithfully to represent the prominent features of
our versatile appearances in the vale of life ; nor has
my little work been the result of undivided labour,
but has been composed after the duties of the day in
the important business to which I belong; and, I
admit, my studying powers have too frequently left
me in the care of peaceful Morpheus. Together
with the difficulties I have had to encounter, and
my early age, I hope my readers will consider those
facts equivalent to the faults and inaccuracies con-
tained in this little compilation. As it is, so I
commit it to their kind notice : for every word I am
answerable, therefore, if worthy, I hope to receive a
favourable recommendation ; if not, it is their duty
to cast upon me the contempt I deserve. With
profound respect, and under sincere obligations to
my esteemed patrons, my agents, and my publisher,
I humbly remain.
Their dutiful servant,
Edwaed Geoege Kent.
Apeil, 1859.
CONTENTS.
Preface
Nineveh : —
Part I. .
Part II.
Human Life : —
Part I. .
PAGK
V
1
6
Part II 14
The Birth of Burns 20
On the Arrival of Dr. Mackay from America, 1858 . 27
The Death of Havelock 29
The Final Search for Sir John Franklin . . .31
On the Launch of the Electric Submarine Tele-
graph, 1858 33
Lines on Standing upon the Belfry of St. Botolph
at Sunrise 35
37
38
39
41
42
44
46
49
50
51
52
53
65
67
68
60
61
Wisdom in Old Age
The Slave
Christmas
Another on Christmas ......
On Walking by the River Slea before Sunrise
Daybreak ........
The Greeting of the Australians to the Primrose of
England
" Old Age, I Fear Thee Not "
The Morning Star .
The Home of My Fathers .
The Soldier's Dream
Our Native Isle .
Lincoln Cathedral .
Harvest Home
Childhood ....
The Uncertainty of Life
The New Year
VUl CONTENTS.
PAOE
On the Past Year
65
Peace
. 67
War
69
On the Memorial Window
. 71
The Twa Brigs of Boston ....
. 73
Spring
. 77
Remember Death
78
The Tyrant Pike
. 79
Essays : —
Happiness
. 81
84
Sonnets : —
A Spring Morning ....
. 90
Summer .......
90
Autumn
. 91
Winter .......
91
Pride
. 92
Contentment
92
Friendship
. 93
On the Death of the Rev. G. Crabbe
93
Roebuck's Speech on the Conspiracy Bill, 1
358 . 94
To a Miser
94
Childhood
. 95
Christmas . ...
95
Time
. 96
Faith
96
Hope
. 97
Charity
97
April
. 98
Human Life
98
Evening
. 99
War . .
99
Peace
. 100
Truth
. 100
Despair
. 101
The Sabbath
. 101
Boston Church
. 102
A Sonnet on the remains of Sleaford Castle
. 102
Life
. 103
Death
. 103
NINEVEH.
'TwAS when, as vapours of the gloomy night,
The wicked actions of the Ninevite
"Went upon high, God said to Jonah, " Go
And warn the city of its overthrow :"
But he the heavenly order disobey' d,
And to the little port of Joppa fled,
Where he embark' d, another land to find ;
But on the sea God sent a raging wind,
"Which furious o'er the troubled waters blew.
While sudden fear beset the heathen crew,
Who safe deliverance of their gods implor'd ;
Each sought the pity of his idol lord ;
And while they cast their goods into the deep.
The man of God lay in the craft asleep.
Lo ! unto him in time the master came,
Of him inquir'd his country and his name.
And said, " Entreat thy God to change our lot.
Call on His name that we may perish not."
Nor did the Euler of the tempest please
Even then to still the raging of the seas ;
Till they at last to throw in lots agreed.
From whom or whence the evil did proceed.
They threw, when lo ! by their ill omen read,
B
2 iriNE\T:H.
The evil fell upon the stranger's head.
"Now two-fold fear possessed eachstalwart frame,
Again they ask his country and his name :
He ansAver'd, "la Hebrew am, and fear
The word of God — why I have jouruey'd here."
They next inquire, " "^Tiat must we do to thee,
That we may calm the billows of the sea ? "
He said, "0 take my body up and cast
It in the deep ; no more the storm shall last : "
But yet, much sooner than a life would take,
The men row'd hard the shore in sight to make.
Alas ! in vain ; the unseen hand of Him
Who dwells between the holy Cherubim
Kept them from following up their goodly will.
And in the troubled waters held them still.
Now each crav'd pardon of his god, and said,
" take the blood of this man off my head ! "
Behold, they took the prophet up and threw
Him in the sea. ^STo more the tempest blew j
The winds were silent, and the mighty deep
Lay as reclining in a chilly sleep.
Their little bark in safety sailed along,
They rais'd to Heaven a heart-rejoicing song ;
For they, poor heathen, saw the hand of God,
And felt the power of His mighty rod ;
They saw the mercy of His heavenly hand,
As they alighted on the ocean strand.
But ! what must the fate of Jonah be,
Who in the depths of the unfathom'd sea
Was headlong plung'd to seek a watery grave ?
Yea, there he found a gracious hand to save —
The hand of Him, who in the depths profound
KINEVEH.
Eesides the same as on the common ground,
Prepar'd a fi?h, who as a morsel prey'd
Upon his whole. He in its belly laid
Three days and nights, and to the mighty Lord
His prayer in purity of mind he ponr'd.
Yea ! to the holy temple of his God.
The weeds were wrapp'd around his troubled head
As in the courts of hell he made his bed.
He left the earth for ever in his chase
'Mid ocean caverns, and the mountain's base.
He sought the courts of Erebus and fled
Where instinct guide of truth the monster led.
But lo I the fish, by God's divine command,
"Was by a wave cast far upon the strand ;
It vomits forth, and as His will before,
The Prophet walk'd upon Assyria's shore.
Again the word of God unto him came :
" Go to the city now ; to all proclaim :
For when the space of fifty days is here.
They shall my works behold with troubled fear :
For as the vapours of a guilty night.
So are their wicked doings in my sight."
Lo ! he arose and to the city went,
To all he cried, " Turn from your ways, repent;
For God hath said unto his servant. Go
And warn the people of their overthrow !
For I will cast her helpless on the plain.
That mighty place to rise no more again !
For as the wrath of my ill-kindled ire,
So shall my acts partake consuming fire.
Tho' in their trouble they do loudly quail,
Yea, none shall live to tell the mournful tale."
B 2
4 NINEVEH.
So Jonah told the people of their state,
And warn'd them of their near-impending fate,
"When lo ! the king of Nineveh arose,
And cast away his robes and princely clothes ;
Throughout the city he proclaim' d a fast.
They put on sackcloth from the first to last ;
From God's avengeful threat they shrunk appall' d,
And on His name for true forgiveness call'd.
So when God saw that from their evil ways
They tum'd and to Him ofi'ered up their praise.
Then He repented at His firm decree.
And tum'd His heart in favour of their plea :
" For shall I turn this city into hell ?
When six score thousand scarce the numbers tell,"
He said, " of those who cannot yet discern
The right from wrong, who have their state to learn ;
With many cattle on her favour'd hills,
And bleating flocks beside her flowing rills."
So God forgot the covenant He made,
And long Assyria's blasting rod delay'd'
But now the servant of the Lord was wroth
That He had failed to send His angel forth,
And prayed thus : " God, my life receive,
For 'twould be better than I here should live ;
That is the reason I before did flee.
Because I knew the kindness great of Thee."
How vain the thought possess'd his mortal frame
To wish for honour by a city's flame.
So Jonah went unto the eastern side,
And built a tent wherein he might abide
To see the angel of the Lord descend
In fiery clouds — the city's awful end !
NINEVEH. O
The heat being great, God caused a gourd to grow,
Beneath the shade glad Jonah felt 'twas so ;
But when he rose upon the future day,
Ate by a worm, it withered away.
The sun beat hard upon the Prophet's head ;
Again he said, " God, that I were dead ! "
Lo ! unto him again the holy word
Eeturn'd : " man ! if this poor simple gourd,
Which thou'st not made to grow, demands thy pity.
Shall not the thousands of this mighty city
By their repentance claim the love of God,
And swerve the fury of His falling rod ? "
But soon, alas ! the wicked Ninevites
Forgot the word of God, and sought delights
In Satan's service ; to their former ways
They tui-n'd, and to their idols offered praise.
When lo ! the vision of the Elkoshite
Told : " God revengeth in His holy might.
And sayeth thus : ' A jealous God is ours.
To anger slow, yet terrible His powers !
Lo ! in the Avhirlwind rests His holy seat.
The clouds are dust beneath His hasty feet !
The sea recedeth at His glorious sight !
The rivers shun the presence of His might !
The mountains quake, and as the molten tin
The hills do melt ; the earth, and all therein,
Are burnt ! Who can the fierceness of his ire
Withstand, or brave the fury of His fire ?
But yet, the Lord is good, and in the day
Of trouble kind to all who Him obey.' "
NINEVEH.
PART II.
THE T)ESTEX7CTI0N OF THE CITY.
Lo ! now the vengeance of the Lord went forth ;
The fire was kindled of his fearful wrath :
The day arrived when His imperious word
Must seek its answer in the murd'rous sword.
Across the sky the dreadful lightnings flash ;
Her falling turrets in the waters dash ;
"With mournful fear her wicked people see
God's great denouncement of their misery ;
With fearful eyes behold His judgment come,
And weep to see the horrors of their doom !
Their God is angry, and no more the day
Of their destruction will He now delay,
But at His word His angel goeth forth
And deals His vengeance on the sons of earth.
The Tigris rushes o'er her mighty walls,
The fir-trees shake, the idol temple falls ;
In crimson blood the Persian's shield is dyed,
Throughout the streets the conquering Chaldees ride
With flaming torches, while the cries of night
Add startling terrors to her dismal plight.
Her site is alter'd to a gory plain,
They stumble o'er the many heaps of slain,
UINEVBH.
While princes stagger in their drunken dream,
Their riches swell the vast polhited stream,
The place of bloodshed and the den of lies.
In vain her people call in pitying cries.
For tribulation in its darkest form
Conducts the horrors of her ending storm ;
Her ruler falleth, while his mighty host
Of sinful captains mingle with the dust ;
Her roll of shame their Maker's hand unfurl' d,
Held as a caution to the wicked world.
Upon her ways the rattling chariots run ;
In vain the sword the poor lost victims shun,
For as the locusts on the midday air,
The mighty host of her besiegers were.
The storm ariseth as the desert wind.
It passeth o'er, and nought is left behind,
For, lo ! the cloud from heaven doth descend •
With flaming fire, and brings her awful end.
In vain to her was great Egyptia's might ;
The strength of Ethiops, though 'twas infinite,
Could not relieve her when the Persian host
Proclaim' d, in joy, her bloody contest lost.
Her strength departed, as a drop of rain
So fell the famous city of the plain :
No voice survived the ruin to bewail,
No herald lived to tell the mournful tale;
And they who in the paths of Satan trod
Now saw, alas ! that Jonah's Lord was God.
No more they fill their guilty cups with wine ;
No more they worship at the idol shrine ;
No more they sound the clamours of their mirth.
But mourn with grief the moment of their birth.
8 NOTEVEH.
High in the clouds the glaring flames uplight,
And show the horrors of the awful night ;
The mighty river rolls in stormy mood,
Her heaving waters tinged with human blood,
While hungry vultures settle on the plain.
And ravening wolves devour the mangled slain.
Lo ! there's no healing for the grievous bruise ;
The nations all a pitying tear refuse ;
And as a rock beneath the Stygian sea,
"Whose dangerous form no human eye can see,
Or as a flower that fadeth on the plain
By none observed, or as the summer rain,
So was the glory, Nineveh, of thee
Laid waste in shame by His divine decree.
Thy merchants, many as the stars that stud
The paths of heaven, thy men of royal blood —
Yea, all thy strongholds — as a barren tree,
Before the fire of Heaven's vengeance flee.
Alas ! they learn their awful lot too late,
Eepent in vain, and ponder o'er their fate,
For God hath spoken, and the gates of hell
Were open'd wide — the guilty city fell.
Oh ! as a warning may its fearful end
To every nation of the world descend.
3D«<3e
HUMAN LIFE.
A POEM IjST blank VEKSE, IN TWO PAETS.
PART I.
" Green as the bay-tree, ever green,
With its new foliage on.
The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen ;
I passed, and they were gone." — Cowper.
Argument.
The wisdom of the Creator — His just laws — His great and
holy design — The sorrows and troubles he awardeth to us
in our earthly pilgrimage below for our benefit hereafter.
JiAN !
Hast thou lived here so long as this,
And ne'er inquired from whence thou came,
Or what's the object of thy being ?
The great design of Him who dwells
Above, who holds the orbs of light,
And guides revolving worlds in tracts
Of boundless space, who holds the roll
Of wise decree, of sacred law,
Thy steps to guide, thy ways to keep,
In holy fear, from greater hurt
Of that vile spirit who thy heart
"Will hard beset, at last descend
"With some fair prize, some tempting bait, —
Then thou the law must keep in mind,
10 HUMAN LIFE.
And hedge around that vast progenitor
Of every action, deed, and thought !
Think not the course of thy career
Is smooth and fair. Alas ! though roses grow
In different parts, the piercing thorn
Upholds its hardy head, and takes
The sweetness of the perfume off.
Gives thee a pain to bear ; when it
Hath passed away, another more
' Vexatious cloud of care appears.
And hurts thy chance, once good.
Away ! thy views, which once appear' d
Resplendent, now are clothed in dark,
Obscmnng shades of gloomy storms,
Who break in fury on thy head.
Till lastly, overwhelm'd with pain.
Vexatious grief, and care, thou sink'st
Beneath the weight.
But if thou seest where the storm
Of tribulation takes its rise,
"With loving heart thou own'st the just.
Unerring ways of Providence, and thank' st
Thy Maker for the storm, the bitter taste
Of life, that in perfection true thou canst
Its varied sweets enjoy.
"Who was it brought thee forth, and gave
Thee life, so sweet, so verified.
So admirable, and so truly just ?
Who gave thee reason for thy use below,
To aid thee in the path that leads
To fairer worlds above ?
For, as the lighthouse on the lonely rock
HUMAN LIFE. 1 1
Serves the poor mariner for a guide
Through raging and tempestuous seas,
And lastly brings him safely through
The rolling billows of the mighty deep,
So it directeth thee, and lastly lands
Thee on the peaceful shore, where storms
Rage not, where tempests ever sleep !
Who was it, Avhen the tempter touch' d
The elbow for thy own compliance,
And to thy mind proclaim' d :
"If thou obey'st, these noble palaces.
These verdant plains, through which the streams
Of fortune flow^, these dazzling thrones,
These everlasting, all-enduring gems
Of earth and life, if thou acced'st
Unto my will, all, yea, all ! are thine " ?
Who placed within thine heart the word
Of Heaven's avowed sanction ? No !
Who show'd to thee the all-destroying fruits
Which grow upon that tree, though to the eye
Well they appear ? But once, yea, once,
If thou thereof doth taste, alas ! alas !
The spirit of thy holy might hath flown,
Thy reason faints, while evil beings drag
Thy poor forgotten body to the dark
Abode of devils !
Then, man, I say, for reason at the hands
Of God, impart thy gratitude to Him,
And thank ; thy fate is made divine
Through Him, and not, through Satan, black !
And next inquire. Where can I behold
The good, the holy, and the great design
12 HUMAN LIPE.
In giving me temptation?, trials, here ?
In planting nettles on the walk of life,
In placing rocks my voyage to obstruct,
Or casting vain delusions at my feet ?
Though my poor futile pen will fail, I doubt.
In here describing the Almighty's wish ;
Yet, as I write. Fate rule it just. It is :
When man upon the stage of life
Appears, a portion of his time is spent
In idle toil, in foolish training.
Till he arrives in time at every point
Expert, as earthly laws denounce.
But let us see him in the race of life :
The signal falls, he starts ; alas !
'Tis false ; the sandal of his foot
Is loosed. Lo ! he attempts again.
He goeth not far before a lovely saint—
Of earth, I mean, not one sublime,
Though fair — saluteth him.
At once his heart is wrapt
In love. He plays his part
In this alluring scene : delightful
Are the imprecations of his mind.
This passes off; he journeys on.
Lo ! Fortune at his feet appears, and brings
Him riches, wealth, enticing baits,
From her great master. Now he stops.
And loscth sight of his performance
In the earthly race.
But now, alas ! the sable nymph of sorrow
Visits him in her ill-omen'd form :
He falls, the chequer' d victim of her rod,
HUMAN LIFE. 13
And casts away the smiles of fortune.
In earnest once more to begin his race,
He goeth on a while, till she withdraw' th
Her rod. Alas, he once more sinks
Into the slumber of his sinfulness.
And near forgets his Maker lives.
"While dire affliction intervenes,
(If not too harsh, 'tis well,)
He reasons, and well ponders
O'er his fate, repenteth much,
And lives ;
But if misfortune aims the deadly blow,
Alas, alas ! he dies, and truth, too horrid, teUs
no tale.
fl>
-©DK3&-
14
HUMAN LIFE.
PART II.
" Look on this picture ; and on that." — Shakspeaee.
Aegument.
'Tis wrong to paint the scene of human life too dark : 'tis not
a desert, or stormy voyage, a scene of wretchedness, a
wilderness, or a gloomy travel.
But 'twould be -wrong, yea, wrong indeed,
To paint the human scene
A scene of woe !
Or deem those laws unfair
By our Creator given, in love,
For our enjoyment and our good.
The earth is not a desert wild ;
For it hath rolling streams
That weave the songs of love
In rippling through the plain ;
For it hath fruitful trees
Wlio bend their forms for man,
And cast their fruits so sweet,
So beautified by nature.
Beneath his lordly care ;
For it hath graceful brutes.
Though far more powerful and strong
Than man. Yet, by that law
So good, so truly given
By God himself.
HUMAN LIFE. 15
They lack that mighty art,
They lack that heavenlj^ gift
Of man, his power of thought
And instinct, so remain
Subservient at his will.
The cup of human life
Is not a cup of bitterness ;
It giveth many sweets
To those who drink aright.
'Tis not the draught that's wrongly mingled,
But 'tis the drinker's fault !
Some drink too deep,
And swallow all at once ;
Confused and bitter
Are the draughts, to those ;
While others sip, like poison'd wine,
The draught, desire no more,
And by their puny hearts
E'en shun the whole !
In vain they think the sweets
Are separate from the rest,
For so it cannot be !
They spend their years in useless toil
To seek the blushing rose that grows
Without a piercing thorn.
Life's not a stormy voyage all throughout,
Though wild the tempests rave.
And tierce the stormy winds
Drive through the tatter' d sails,
Though harsh the sea- gull cries,
And dark the evening reigns,
In sable terrors wrapp'd.
16 HUMAN LIFE.
In time the tempest rests,
In time the whirlwinds cease,
In time the evening's tumults seek
The shades of sunlit dawning,
And there's a radiant morning
And there's a glorious calm.
'Tis not a scene of wretchedness,
Or broken-hearted plight ;
The weeping mother may be pitied
As she bids her only son
Adieu ! who quits his homely hearth
To share the perils and the toils of war.
But still swift Time is on the march.
When few chapters flee the roll
Of age.
Her darling son,
Her imaged love,
"Who's braved the countless list
Of perils, and survived the fight
Of desperate carnage.
And escaped the scythe
Of Death,
Returns !
She weepeth not for grief,
But joy!
Those tears she shed long since,
For frantic madness,
Trickle down in happy flowings
From her delighted checks.
How blest the meeting is !
Is this a gloomy scene ?
No, 'tis a ray reflected from the sky.
HUMAN LIFE. 17
A beam of heavenly light,
To cheer the lot of human fate,
And tell there is a God,
Who knowcth every thought,
Who seeth every heart.
The world is not a wilderness
Of barren shrubs, or limpid streams,
Or cruel gales, which blow upon
The weary pilgrim, and in night
Do strike him from its path, —
For mark the orphan child,
With empty wallet on his back.
And tearful eyes, doth start
Into the ways of life, alas !
With bitter pangs of hunger oft oppress'd ;
And oft the sound of stern denial
Doth ring those ears of innocence !
He sees the cotter's meal
Upon the whitewash' d board,
With cheerful fire and frugal fare ;
Though all is still, he enters not.
Is not that a mind of valour,
Is not that a heart of honour.
Living in that careworn child !
Who, spite the pangs of hunger,
And the dense calls of thirst,
Dares not intrude, and take thereof?
For he is well aware
'Tis bad to beg his bread, —
But still, yea, better far
Than steal.
He journeys on ; in time his mind
c
18 HUMAN LIFE.
Is made aware of various means
To earn his scanty crust ;
He, with his little sum
Acquired hy anxious toil,
Now seeks a better mart.
He buyeth in a stock ;
From door to door he wends
His weary course, to tend
His little merchandise
For coin or welcome bread.
In time, industry clothes his back ;
In time, hard labour weaves his bed,
And peaceful slumbers rest his frame.
No loathsome hut he seeks at night
To rest ; he has a Home.
'Tis well he goeth on aright,
And mounteth up the hill of life ;
The orphan boy becomes a noble man ;
The child forlorn becomes a citizen !
His latter days are radiant ;
His end of life is happiness.
Is this a gloomy scene ?
For by the love of honesty —
For by the love of fame —
AH can mount the hill of life ;
All can see the voyage through ;
All can taste its many sweets ;
All can of its joys partake.
'Tis not a gloomy scene, I say.
Where friendship, love, and mirth,
Where honour, peace, and bliss.
Are given by Him who for us made
niTMAJSr LIFE. 19
This wondrous world,
And who hath said,
If we obey His holy word
Whilst we remain on earth.
His love upon us pours;
But when we quit the stage of life
Eternal joy is ours !
;■><?©—
c2
20
THE BIRTH OF BURNS,
THE CALEDONIAN BAED.
Written for the Festival held, January 25th, 1859, by
THE Honourable Crystal Palace Company at Syden-
ham, BEING the Centenary of his 'Birth.
Lo ! duty blest, the soul of Britain fires,
While love sincere her high-born, muse inspires,
For Time hath brought kind Mem'ry on his wing,
And years have wrought the oracles we sing.
The day has come when Caledonia's pile
Of high Parnassus from the sea-girt isle
Deserves a line, a highly worthy line,
To grace the tablet of her minstrel's shrine.
0, ye who dwell on Albion's favour' d shore,
Attune your lyres, and play his praises o'er.
Ye poets, laud his memory, ever dear,
Whose tomb recalls a universal tear.
Ye British bards, respect his honour'd name;
From dark oblivion now restore his fame ;
For, mark, 'twas not upon the dazzling throne —
A prince — Minerva claim'd her fav'rite son ;
'Twas not a chief who ruled a martial train,
Or bright commander of the wat'ry main ;
But in the humble service of the plough
She found her champion, there around him threw
Her graceful robe ; to him the guiding rein
THE BIRTH OF BURNS. 21
She gave to lead the chariots of her train.
Unknown to fume, a simple rustic swain,
And, as a fiery comet of the night
Eolls on with train of vast illumined light,
Though first a speck upon the sky appears,
Around the world its wondrous circuit steers, —
So he arose ; and, as a flickering spark
Throws forth a light when all around is dark,
But kindles gently to a brilliant flare,
With dazzling flame illumes the midnight air, —
He gather' d light : at length his glorious ray
Turn'd Scotland's night of sable reign to day.
'Tis with regret, worthy bard, we see
Ourselves unfit to rightly honour thee,
Who bless'd the scroll with magic arts profound,
While envying nations cast their eyes around.
Thy name, Burns ! while worthy memories steer
The poet's pen to mark a bright career,
While through the skies majestic planets roll.
While Hope's blest spirit cheers the pensive soul, —
Shall live a guide ; while Time's vast work is o'er.
Admiring kingdoms shall thy name adore.
Long o'er thy loss will grateful Scotland weep,
And England cast her blessings on thy sleep ;
Yea, on this day Hibernia strikes the string,
Thy glorious acts her children nobly sing ;
While Clio o'er the universe shall wield
Her mystic rod, — thou art her chosen shield.
Now thou hast fled these earthly courts, while we.
Like as the moon, with borrow'd light, from thee
Derive our beam of wit. 0, could thy pen
Eush in my rhyme and gild my humble strain.
22 THE BIRTH OF BITENS.
Then would I match the noble prince of lay,
Nor fear the laureate, or the great Mackay,
But win the palm of Helicon to-day.
"Well may Old England dance in seemly joy,
And laugh in mirth to think the Highland boy
First saw the light where her imperial wand
Eesides in peace and owns beloved command.
Well may she gladden at the glorious sight,
And sweep her lyre in tunes of gay delight.
To count the gem of Caledonia's shore
Amongst her jewels. Yea, for evermore
We will uphold the myth of Shanter's tale,
"While pilgrims swarm the vast Parnassian vale ;
While loving thought, or Hornie's ode divine.
Shall live avow'd or yet be called to min',
We'll pledge a cup of kindness dear
To auld lang syne.
Though Scotland's warriors long remember'd be,
Though Bruce and Wallace crown'd her history,
And graced the standard of her martial fame,
Their glory fades, few relics tell their claim ;
Their mighty shields, the swords they dipp'din blood.
Are eaten up, while in Time's rolling flood
Their memories sink : though each as Hector brave,
Pew are the tears shed on the conqueror's grave ;
Yet there dwelt one in Scotland's bonnie isle,
"Unknown, unheard of in his quaintly style,
A highland swain, who own'd Apollo's might,
Clothed fair Olympus in a robe of light ;
He placed his country in the foremost line
THE BIETH OF BUENS. 23
Of earth's inspired ; bid her for ever shine
While her famed mountains raise their sno'wy heads,
While her smooth lochs flow o'er romantic beds,
While merry maidens through her valleys straj'.
While ivy weaves its tendrils on the spray,
So long the song of auld acquaintance, dear
To Burns, shall rise in tuneful accents clear ;
So long her bards shall swell the glorious strain,
Revive his laurels as the summer rain ;
So long her nymphs shall strike the magic string.
And tune their hearts his godly acts to sing.
0, may the portals of the heavens move,
Receive his spirit in the realms of love.
Remember well this festive day doth bring
A century's burden on Time's fiery wing;
To-day one hundred years desert the stage,
And quit the era of the fleeting age,
Since Burns appear'd amongst the dust of earth.
Since Fate devised the hour of his birth,
Since hearts were gladden'd in the rustic dome.
When Fortune smiled upon the Highland home,
She blest her smile in Heaven's familiar strain,
And lit her torch on Ayrshire's frozen plain ;
She built her temple by the bonnie Doon,
Whose waters slept beneath the wintry moon.
'Twas night when Nannie and the witches danced —
For joy around their boiling cauldrons pranced ;
Quick on their brooms thej^ flew across the air.
And fiU'd the sky with one infernal glare ;
When wraiths and goblins lined the fearful way,
And spirits throng'd the kirk of Alloway ;
24 THE BIETH OF BTJENS.
That night a meteor cleft the midnight air,
Of brighter cast than Etna's fearful glare.
'Twas then the herald of auspicious love
Alighted in the- Caledonian grove.
She says, " Let me the Muses' sweets distil ;
I'll plant a vineyard on the barren hill."
As thus she spoke her noble act was done ;
Euterpe gloried in her infant son !
Ye great adorers of departed fame,
Who merit Cicero's phrase, or Pliny's name ;
Ye who in raptured fancy all admire
The pen of Homer or the Theban lyre,
Gird up your ardour ; now, I say, adore
And laud the ploughboy of your neighbouring shore,
"Whom Heaven hath tuned amid the speechless throng,
AVhom Nature gave sincerity of song.
! wonder not ; behold, his living charms
Shall Ions survive the fate of Scotia's arms !
■'o
Yes ! in that glorious cause, for ever strong.
The name of Burns shall form the poet's song ;
Though Time's vast currents swell and roll away,
Shall still survive, and suffer no decay.
May England e'er on his remembrance dwell,
Deliffht the world his noble worth to tell.
^o^
0, may the flambeau of terrestrial flame
This day uplight the Scottish minstrel's name.
Children of Albion, join the festive thi-ong —
Yea, all unite and swell the glorious song.
THE BIKTH OF BURNS.
"We meet not here to laud a tyrant's reign,
But tune our efforts to a brighter strain ;
We meet not here to praise the glorious dead,
"WTio in the contests of their country bled,
But here behold fair England's chosen few
The path of virtue in its course pursue.
This day the temples of the Muse shall quake.
This day the forum of Diana shake.
May Heaven regard each poet's humble rhyme
A noble effort, and the world sublime.
Rejoice, ye sons of Britain, now rejoice
That Sydenham echoes forth Concordia's voice ;
Rejoice, I say, that Science holds a court
Amid her bowers, and Art a fair resort ;
Record this day upon your queendom's page
A blest occurrence on the roll of age.
Mark well the time when Burns upheld the strain
Of British Muses in their wond'rous train;
Remember well the patriots who have wrought
This kind memorial — have the nations taught
That Shakespeare ne'er beneath Victoria's sway
Shall die a slave, or Milton sing away
Forgotten ; but while love retains the lead,
"While Science weaves a wreath around her head.
So long shall gratitude demand a tear,
The dying laurels of her dead to cheer.
Such is our purpose on this festive time.
Such the frail whisper of my humble rhyme ;
However humble, yet if it doth keep
His mem'ry fresh who in death's torpid sleep
Doth rest, the claim of justice then is paid,
25
26 THE BIRTH OF BUENS.
The call of tender gratitude obey'd,
To cast the tribute of a world's returns,
And light the tomb of Caledonia's Burns.
Adieu ! may Heaven bear witness to this scene,
And gild in truth the sceptre of our Queen ;
Long may she reign, and while the King on high
Doth bid the world increase and multiply,
May England lead the universal choir
Of love, and tune to heavenly strains her lyre,
While worlds revolving in their courses turn,
May she revere and grace her minstrel's urn !
But, list ye here, we must not worship man ;
Let it suffice to note the famous plan.
To keep the memory fresh from age's chime,
The son of Orpheus or the son of rhyme.
But that is all ; no licence here is given
To raise a mortal to the ranks of heaven.
'£*3e
27
ON THE ARRIVAL OF DR. MACKAY
FROM AMERICA, 1858.
Welcome, son of sweetest rhyme,
Thou foremost of the noble band ;
Best wishings of the western clime
Pursue thee to thy native land.
Fair minstrels light thy lamp of fame,
Their blessings on thy merits throng,
While mystic muses laud thy name
With honours of poetic song.
Rude storms and tempests, cheerless rain,
Pass'd thy favour' d vessel by ;
Angry winds and hurricanes
Rode in peace along the sky.
Nature's children, well delighted,
Echoed o'er the liquid seas
Truths which never can be slighted —
Fill'd in joy the peaceful breeze.
In blissful tones thy genius claim'd
Amazement from the wond'ring throng;
Earth's enraptured lists proclaimed
The merits of thy British song.
28 ON THE ABEIVAL OF DK. MACKAY.
! could I trace the records o'er,
Or scan the roll of flying age,
Thy wisdom far above would soar,
And swell the glories of the page.
In pride the stars of western might,
Gay in response, rejoicing smiled,
"When visions of serene delight
Beset thy heart in fancies wild.
'Twas then the true and hallowed flame
Of love relax'd thy inmost thought.
Held up to view thy nation's fame.
The world thy fathers' glory taught.
0, let us hail thy blest return
"With songs of mirth and festive glee.
And may that flame for ever burn
Of Britain's honour'd liberty ;
May Fortune speed thee on thy way,
Guide thee safely on the road ;
Wisdom grant its brightest ray.
And lead thee to yon bright abode.
Let Britain smile, while thousands pour
Their blessings on the prince of lay ;
Her children on the western shore
With living laurels crown Mackay ;
English lyres witness keep.
Throw out his praise in tunes serene.
While o'er peaceful zephyrs sweep.
And gild the glories of the scene.
29
THE DEATH OF HAVELOCK.
Rest, noble Britain, rest ; be Heaven obey'd,
Since human discord is tbc dire delight
Of Death, who now o'er thee extends his shade,
Pernicious, cruel, regardless of thy right.
Pew warriors merit more distinguished grace
Than thee, as godlike sprung from Hector's race.
Thy matchless courage we bewail the more,
Who when, though tens of thousands were
deprest
By doubt, thou conquer'dst on that hostile shore,
And set thy country's trembling mind at rest.
Even men unborn, with ages yet behind,
Shall rid their praises on thy glorious mind.
Alas, how rough life's journey, how uneven ;
How fierce that cruel monster of the tomb !
Virtue itself can't change the fate of Heaven,
Or Britain's hero yet in life would bloom.
Havelock, warrior of thy Queen and State,
"We mourn in sadness thy untimely fate !
Of martial heroes no vain shadow thee ;
The guilty sepoy trembled at thy name ;
With fearful looks beheld thy victory,
And stamped in glory was thy crest of fame.
Alas, thou suffer'dst, cruel Death to please,
And fell beneath the sceptre of disease.
30 THE DEATH OP HAV BLOCK.
Though Heaven proves merciful to us, yet we
Must now regret our melancholy fate,
And lastly hope He has assigned to thee,
Who dwells on high, a far more blest estate
Than we could ever, though we fain would give,
Had Fate designed thee still on earth to live.
With sacrifice before the rising morn.
On India's plains by fruitful hope inspired ;
Prom camps of peril, and 'mid shades forlorn
Of night thou slaughter of their host required ;
But still thy actions good, as well as brave.
Could not elude the malice of the grave.
To thee thy country's tears are ever due ;
Her lonely barks upon the silent sea
Shall dye their standai'ds in the darkest hue.
And chant thy death in doleful melody.
Whose name shall live beyond the stress of years.
And mem'ry die when Time but disappears.
Angel of truth, thy sacred wings explore ;
Bequeath to England vict'ry o'er the storm
Of dark rebellion on the troubled shore
Of India, and display thy radiant form.
Coupled with virtue, mayst thou ever be
Her brightest guide to all futurity.
31
THE FINAL SEARCH FOR SIR JOHN
FRANKLIN.
People of Britain, may it be your pride,
And great your pleasure to obey the call
Of love's last efforts, hopeful to confide.
Alike awake to duty one and all ;
Exert yourselves in sympathy to cheer
A painful sufferer through seditious fear.
In this attempt shall ever grim Despair,
"Whilst one faint trace of life encheers the sight.
Once strive to place its desolating lair,
Or on our fate be suffer'd to alight;
But Hope, like trees whose stately branches form
An ample shade, shall brave the wildest storm.
Time, cease thy quick course, no longer roll,
If lamentations fill the human heart.
Or latent feelings seize the mortal soul
Of man, or he denies his common part.
But now may Fortune in her goodness reign,
And shining glory in the case maintain.
May the inconstant goddess us behold
As warriors ready for the zealous fight
Of love's endearments — mysteries to unfold,
All threatening fears to rid and put to flight.
32 THE FINAL SEARCH FOE SIB, J. FEANKLIN.
And ye, Britons, may ye live to see
Your efforts crown' d with brilliant victory.
For by the country that ye all adore,
"With joyless thoughts how can ye turn aside,
"Whilst under Heaven a rich kingdom's store
■** For such a worthy eifort can provide.
But all unite ; may signal glory be
Your actions' witness in eternity.
And if that day arrives, that glorious day,
Clouds of dark hope dispense ; unite no more,
For ye must fall the overpower'd prey
Of perseverance and kind mercy's store.
Earth, though oft has mourn' d the painful past.
Shall then rejoice, for Heaven gilds the last.
— ©s
^r-e
33
YE WARRIORS OF BRITAIN.
A MILITARY ODE.
Ye Warriors of Britain,
JS'ow tempests cloud the day,
Your country seeks your aid again
To fight her noble way ;
Your mighty cannon charge again —
Bid them terrific sound, —
And rush to the charge,
"When the grape flies thick around,
When the furious battle rages fierce,
And the grape flies thick around.
The courage of your fathers
Shall light your lamps of fame.
And crown you with the honours true
Of Great Britannia's name ;
Ye, with your bright Commander,
Hise at the trumpet's sound.
Your loyal rights defend.
When the grape flies thick around,
When the furious battle rages fierce.
And the grape flies thick around.
34 TE WAESIOES OF BEITAIN.
tell the rebel Hindoo,
Your flags you'd sooner wave
In peace, than take away his life,
And trample on his grave ;
But tell him to beware,
"When he hears the battle sound,
If he fights against you
When the grape flies thick around,
When the furious battle rages fierce,
And the grape flies thick around.
But 0, ye famous warriors.
Though still the camp-fires bum,
The troubled night shall yet depart,
A brighter day return,
A bumper to Sir Colin's health
Shall pass the circle round.
All hail, that peaceful day
When no grape flies thick around.
When the rage of the battle hath died away,
And no grape flies thick around.
35
LINES ON STANDING UPON
THE BELERY OF ST. BOTOLPH'S
AT SUNRISE.
I STOOD upon thy tow'i' when heaven's arch
Was glorious in the sun's returning march ;
No sounds awoke the silence of the street,
The peaceful borough slumbered at my feet ;
The distant woods seemed bright, and placid gales
Rushed forth in sweetness o'er the sun-clad vales ;
"While far above, in gladsome blush of day.
The early lark resumed its tuneful lay.
Such was my vision at the early dawn
Of day, when Sol lit up the cheerful morn !
I hear below the rolling waters dash
Upon the beach ; I see the whirl and flash,
As just in sight the crested waves advance,
The frothy spume upon their ripples dance ;
The merry clamour of the seaman's song
Salutes my hearing as he glides along.
In time I see from chimneys here and there
White clouds of smoke quick vanish into air ;
While from thy noble form the mighty chime
Repeats our wai-ning of the passing time ;
d2
36 LINES UPON THE BELFKY OF ST. BOTOLPh's,
And as I look below it is but just
To breathe a blessing on the sleeping dust,
Who long have cast away their earthly bloom,
And lie forgotten in the silent tomb !
I think I hear the voice of sable knights
Pronounce their anger from thy dizzy heights ;
Their noisy accents yet my ears assail.
And wake the echoes of the peaceful vale.
But as I mused the flitting time had flown,
That bade me from the pleasing scene begone,
Enlist myself on truth and duty's side,
And play my portion in the world untried.
-oc^tiXC* yj^^>~
37
WISDOM IN OLD AGE.
Although full fifty years have flown
Since we were join'd together :
Though num'rous hopes and fears we've known,
The storms of every weather ;
Though age hath brought us on to see
Life's cares and trials here,
It shall not force my heart from thee,
John Eobinson, my dear.
Though torpid age doth set me fast,
My love can never chill,
But breathes, as in the changing past.
Resemblance to thy will.
0, lastly, Johnny, may we lay
Together in the tomb,
And rise upon the final day
To live in endless bloom.
38
THE SLAVE.
'TwAS as the shades of evening fell
On verdant slope and mossy dell,
I thought I heard a mournful sound
From yonder maple-tree rebound ;
I hurried forth — to my dismay,
A hunted negro bleeding lay !
With heat oppress'd and mangled frame,
Upon his back the brand of shame
He wore ; the hour of his birth
He cursed, and fell upon the earth.
He laid him down to weep and die.
Far from the bloodhound's yelling cry.
I tried to cheer, but all in vain ;
Eack'd with the tortures of his pain,
His spirit could return no more.
As he lay weltering in his gore,
Yet one consoling thought had he
In death — from earthly demons free.
Alas ! I hear the distant bay
Of hunters in their startled lay;
And with a horrid shout, and sound
Of blood, they eager forward bound ;
The dogs his lifeless body eat,
Fight, growl, and quarrel o'er their treat.
39
CHRISTMAS.
Guest ! we hail thy welcome feet,
And exult in thy looks so sweet ;
Are thankful for thy joyous face,
And triumph in thy warm embrace.
We know that thou hast come to cheer
Us in the winter of the year ;
Let us rejoice, our mountains ring.
Our bells proclaim thy welcoming.
Though days are short, and nights are long,
They can't delay our humble song.
But we will sing a song as gay
As in the merry month of May.
Let all be peace upon the earth;
Let the valleys ring with mirth ;
"With cheerful hearts may all agree,
And sing a touching melody.
Let u s, like brooks from leafy dells.
Pour forth unwearied canticles ;
let us magnify and spread
The blessings that adorn thy head :
40 CHEISTMAS.
May now our joyful voices blend,
Like incense to the skies ascend ;
And all, in one harmonious strain,
Proclaim the glories of thy reign.
May nightly waits, and daily bands,
Receive the blessings of thy hands;
Bid him with sorrow in his soul
To drown it in the festive bowl :
So pass the cup in social mirth,
And pass the yule log on the hearth, —
For Christmas reigns ; let every voice
Exclaim, let every heart rejoice !
-I-XH
41
ANOTHER ON CHRISTMAS.
Ye sons of earth, rejoice
That Christmas comes again ;
laud with merry voice
The glories of his reign.
Hark ! the angels sing,
In hymns of festive song,
The glories of their king ;^
hear the heavenly throng.
Te minstrels here below,
Attune your sacred lyres.
And run the joyful stanzas through
In their harmonious fires.
Ye saints, the chorus swell
To Bethlehem's shining Star;
Join the celestial peal,
And sound His praise afar.
Ye worldly hosts, return
To grateful duty mild ;
bid the nations learn
When Christ was but a child I
42
ON WALKING BY THE EIVER SLEA
BEFORE SUNRISE.
'TwAS at the early dawn of day, before bright Sol
had shed
His rays across the heavenly arch, I wander' d by thy
bed.
Few sounds disturb' d my musing, for all around was
still.
Save the rippling of the waters and the clicking of
the mill.
When quaint visions hard beset me of the bonny
days of old —
Visions of mysterious doings, by the roll of ages told ;
Visions of the crowd assembled, where that grey old
ancient spire
Rears its head unto the skies — visions of the monk
and friar.
As I pass'd the noble relic of good Alexander's pride,
Lo ! I heard the sounds of horsemen on the early
breezes ride ;
ON WALKING BT THE KITEE SLEA. 43
Lo ! I saw fierce Cromwell's legions quickly scale the
mighty wall ;
Too I saw the turrets tremble, and the noble castle
faU.
I beheld the lofty watch-tow'r, where the ivy wove
its spray,
Fall beneath the sudden fire, through the mists of
morning grey.
I beheld the martial phalanx rise the hill in warlike
rows,
"Where the gems of Flora blossom, where the blush-
-ing violet grows.
But I wander'd on till Phoebus rode in might along
the sky.
As the vapours of the morning quickly from his pre-
sence fly.
'Now the time was fast departing, duty bid me from
it flee :
'Tis with fond delight I think upon my ramble by
the Slea.
5)D>G^
44
DAYBREAK.
Lo ! sweet silence greets the morning, hails the
opening of the day,
As the rising king of glory drives the early dews
away ;—
"WTien the reigning orbs of midnight quit their
thrones of lurid glare.
When no sounds of busy populace do ride along the
air ; —
"When the iron sons of labour seek their life-accus-
tom' d toil,
And the travellers on the stage of life begin their
daily broil ; —
In the grove the songsters welcome, with their notes
of festive glee,
Gladsome blushing of the morning, in sweet tones of
melody.
But in time the rays of Phoebus in their majesty
break forth.
As the eastern portals shed their rays 'of brightness
on the earth ;
"WTiile the clouds of smoky vapour from the scatter'd
cots arise,
As their wreaths of sombre blackness quickly vanish
in the skies ;
DAYBEEAK. 45
As the softly flowiug waters trickle through the
peaceful vale,
Lo ! I hear the watchful linnet from the hawthorn
tell its tale.
True, the spirit of enchantment weaves a charm
around the hour,
As th' illumined flash of splendour strikes upon the
mossy tower.
As the goddess of the morning strews across the
graceful lawn
Her fairy gems of sprightliness to hail the rising
dawu, —
Lo ! swift Time moves on his errand, all the visions
flee away,
And the world awaketh to the stern realities of day.
— ©g><^c
46
THE GREETING OF THE AUSTRALIANS TO
THE PRIMROSE OF ENGLAND.
"svAiT, ye dearest little ones, in time ye all shall see
The messenger of visions from j-our home beyond the sea ;
Lest yon harm its tender foliage, oh, treat it carefully.
Eush not, ye burly, hardy ones ; oh, he of sober cast,
Lest ye destroy its loveliness, its comely beauty blast :
Remember, if it prospereth, it shall for ever last.
What blissful tidings from the land of heaven doth she
bring !
What pleasure in our hearts, as we gaze upon her, spring!
What beamings of our home beloved to her tender branches
^fe-^
clinsr !
o
Remember, 'tis the selfsame flower your noble fathers bore
Upon their crimson vests to kirk in merry days of yore.
Oh, joyful hail its presence where it never came before.
flower of our fatherland, in England's vale serene,
Where flows the peaceful streamlet, upon its banks are seen
Thee, with a host of Flora's gems who own thee blushing
queen.
Oft have I in the spring of life, with playmates blithe and
gay,
As to the summer skies arose the perfume of the hay,
Sought thy lone sequester'd nook, and borne thee safe away.
THE GREETING OF THE ATJSTEALtANS. 47
Oh, virgin of the prairie, may Heaven speed thy hloom !
Mayst thou smile in delight for endless years to come.
To grace our children's garlands, and cheer their desert
home.
<0 darling of simplicity, beam of freedom's ray,
That was a day of hallow'd bliss, a ne'er forgotten day,
When England to the distant land sent thee in love away.
But far more joyful was the day, as from the courts above,
A pilgrim of blest innocence, they welcom'd thee in love :
The gem of Flora in the west, oh, mayst thou ever prove !
Then, when the present race recline in peace within the
bower
I Of death, may future generations name thee blest of flowers.
And praise the day when thou arrivedst from this fair land
of ours.
Note. — This beautiful little flower, so common in the fields
and lanes in Britain, was unknown to Australia until a little time
since, when one was imported from England. " The sensation
it produced no one can describe ; thousands of people welcomed
It on shore, and the day of its presence was celebrated with the
most profound deUght." — Illustrated London News.
.»«@»>
48
ODE TO CONTENTMENT.
PLACID nymph, of wisdom's dearest wile,
On human scenes pray cast thy sacred smile ;
Smile on the monarch's fate, the peasant's lot,
Bequeath thy blessings to the throne and cot;
Place thy bright standard in the human breast,
And set its every idle thought at rest ;
Show man that rust, and stern corruptions spoil.
Consume th' attainments of his fruitless toil ;
The empty virtues of that course reveal,
"Where moths destroy, and thieves break through and
steal.
Teach him to hoard no paltry treasure here,
But look on high, and frame his portion there,
Where fortune's blessing never never dies,
No disappointment lurks within the prize ;
Where envied treasures never find decay,
No sinful thief can bear the gem away.
Tell man on earth, though better he may fare.
Yet in the grave that all are equal there ;
For death alike his ghastly visit pays.
O'er rich and poor alike his sceptre sways :
The sad, the thoughtful, and the gay and blythc.
All disappear before his powerful scythe.
May thy fair influence to the mind be given.
To live below in glorious hope of heaven.
49
^'OLD AGE, I FEAR THEE NOT/
Old age, thou canst not give me pain —
Ye silver tresses on my head,
Ye shall not force me to complain,
Because my youthful days are fled.
I hope to live in cities fair.
Where godlike forms for ever dwell ;
No feet return who wander there —
Of them no human tongue can tell.
My life was like the summer flower,
Or as the ripple on the sea.
Or as the fragrance of the bower,
That scents the air delightfully.
As first the little bud appears.
And next to view the lovely bloom.
So came successively the years.
And drew me nearer to the tomb.
The dream is o'er, the phantom flies,
Nought can arrest i;he fleeting course
Of life, who in its nature dies.
And breathes contempt on human force.
But still fair Hope, on wings of might.
Conveys me to those courts above.
Where angels dwell in radiant light.
And reign in everlasting love.
50
THE MORNING STAR.
{An humhle appendage to the Poem " The Evening Star.")
Oh, beautiful star, as the watch of the sky
Thou shinest in thy fulness of glory alone ;
"Now the rest of the orbs from the firmament fly,
Whose bright rays upon us celestial shone.
Beautiful star ! Oh, beautiful star !
Star of the daybreak, Oh, beautiful star !
Who art thou ? The herald of holy decree.
The promise of bliss in the region above ;
In joy we behold the fair presence of thee,
Who frameth our hopes in the city of love.
Beautiful star ! Oh, beautiful star !
Star of bright promise. Oh, beautiful star I
As Sol from the clouds of the east doth arise,
Thou beacon' st the course of his aerial way.
Till at length in fiill glory he lighteth the skies,
And briugeth unto us the blessings of day.
Beautiful star ! Oh, beautiful star !
Star of the sunrise. Oh, beautiful star !
Beautiful star ! fair vision of light !
Glories divine thy circuit attend.
Thou changest the gloom and the darkness of night
Into day, with its pleasures that never shall end.
Beautiful star ! Oh, beautiful star !
Star of the morning. Oh, beautiful star.
61
THE HOME OF MY FATHERS.
Though life's many changes set me far apart
From the joys of my childhood, the scenes of my
youth,
They never can alter the love of my heart,
That records my earliest actions in truth.
Though tempests of this world continually wage
Their volleys of strife and cause me to regret,
They never can blot from kind memory's page ; —
Oh, the home of my fathers I ne'er can forget !
Though far from the bounds of my nation I roam.
If I travel the kingdoms far over the sea.
That bright shining star that illumines my home
Still throws the fair light of its rays over me.
lamp of the universe ! bright little star !
The roU of thy glory remains yet unfurl'd,
The sound of thy coming ariseth afar,
gem of my fatherland ! guide of the world !
In the climes of the north, in the seas of the west.
In the tent of the Arab, where freedom gives birth
To the smile of content, there lieth at rest
The counsel of Britain, the pride of the earth.
To me she is dearest ; who think well may roam.
And cross the broad ocean their fortunes to get.
But in her is my temple of love and my home.
Oh, the land of my fathers I never will quit !
E 2
52
THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.
When young I left my father's cot,
Bid every childish scene adieu,
The battle-field my chosen lot,
AVith victory and fame in view.
I heeded not my mother's prayer,
My father's wish I ask'd no more,
But banish' d from me every care.
And sought the fiery cannons' roar.
But when the battle's rage was o'er,
As I lay on the dismal plain,
'Twas then I thought of home once more —
Those happy scenes flew back again.
I dreamt I sat beside the brook
That murmurs through my father's ground,
Whilst far above I heard the rook, —
Alas ! 'twas but the trumpet's sound.
i=>CB©—
53
OUR NATIVE ISLE.
Deae is OTiY Isle, our Native Isle,
Where battled tower and moated gate
Are objects onlj^ for the spoil
Of hoary age to decorate.
Oh ! we may gladly all rejoice,
Who dwell on Britain's favour' d ground,
Where freedom bids the welcome voice
Of peace in happiness resound.
No haughty mandate fills our throne.
Or sways the sceptre of our land ;
But love and liberty alone
On every side go hand in hand :
May Heaven guide our gracious Queen,
And teach her long to rule aright ;
may, whilst on life's chequered scene.
Her people serve her with delight.
Abroad we have no foes to fear ;
Though despots frown we heed them not,
For concord reigns triumphant here,
Alike in palace and in cot.
Enlivening sound of magic fire.
How sweet to hear the cheerful strain
That issues from thy golden lyre,
As Orpheus strikes its cords again !
54 O0E NATIVE ISLE.
Delightful land ! happy Isle !
I like no other clime as thee ;
Though treasures great may tempt and smile,
Lost is their every charm to me.
Home of my Fathers ! nation blest !
While happy generations lie
Beneath thy turf, in silent rest,
So in thee may I live and die.
55
LINCOLN CATHEDRAL.
NOBLE pile ! of sacred age,
By chieftains built, who stoutly bore
Their spears of might to grace the page
Of patron saint in days of yore.
How solemn is the evening breath
That echoes through thy cells of death.
Where bygone generations lie
In hope of blest eternity.
As to the sky thy lofty spire
Approach'd, our fathers in their might
Of zeal, re-echoed through thy choir,
The sacred glories of their right.
1 think I see them in their praise,
As through the arch the morning rays
Of Phoebus steal — them lift on high
Their thanks for signal victory.
Though Cromwell tried by cannon's might,
With troops of horsemen clad in mail.
To lay thee powerless on thy site.
Or cast thee helpless in the vale ;
Though far around thy neighbours fell ;
Though few the records they can tell ;
Yet, as a pilgrim of the sky.
Thou bear'st pathetic sanctity.
56 LINCOLN CATHEDEAL,
1^0 more the horrid martial sound
Doth ride upon the loathsome air ;
No more the watchman in his round
Repeats the word — Beware ! Beware I
No legions stand without thy wall ;
No rushing troops obey the call —
" To battle come !" No eye discerns,
No voice proclaims — " The city burns."
Be not my humble rhyme misplaced,
My vision cheated, that can see
The shadow of thy bygone past
In man's adoring memory.
Well may the citizens be vain,
Who dwell around thy hallow' d fane,
To spread below, and lift on high.
The tidings of thy mystery.
Thy mighty towers have lived throughout
The strength of many centuries' storms ;
The fiery ball, the battle shout.
With dangers in beleaguer'd form.
mayst thou stand while service pure
In earthly choirs shall endure ;
mayst thou stand while thou art given
To be the favour'd spot of Heaven.
;-»G^
57
HARVEST HOME.
I LOVE to see the old oak bear
The litter of the golden sheaf;
I love to read those records rare
That fill the page of Autumn's leaf;
I love to see a cheerful smile
Alight upon the peasant's cheek,
"Whose thoughts no downcast looks beguile,
AYhose mighty arm is seldom weak.
I love to hear the mirthful sound
That issues from the humble cot,
"Where hearts in happiness rebound
And plenty crowns their joyful lot.
Though last, but surely not the least,
May gracious blessings e'er alight
On him who shares his fruitful feast,
And spares the widow's humble mito.
I love to bear the early lark.
That tuneful minstrel of the sky ;
The bat and screeching owl at dark,
"W'ith them in gladness would I fly :
But still I love, yea better far
Than Livy's festal lay of Home,
To hear those sounds, that cleave the air,
Of joyful, welcome "harvest home."
58
CHILDHOOD.
THE days of joy and gladness,
When my heart was light and gay,
When the thought of gloomy sadness
Brighter pleasures chased away ;
1 can ne'er from kind reflection
Blot the record of those scenes.
Memory blest ; for its protection.
In each trial intervenes.
It seems to me but yesterday.
Or rather as my latest dream,
When I my primer hurl'd away.
And cast the chicken in the stream,
Eode on papa's faithful hobby,
As the hawthorn blossom white,
Got poor little " Trick" and " Bobby,"
First to play and then to fight.
When I and my little brothers
Ean each other round the room,
AVhen kind mamma invited others,
At my birthday all to come ;
How sweet ! the fiddler of the town
Swept his strings with magic fire,
How gay we tripp'd to every tune.
Till the long night did expire.
CniLDHOOD. 59
Alas ! those scenes are gone for ever ;
I must climb the hill of life,
I must cross the flowing river,
As the current rolls in strife.
But when I've traced the slippery way
Of youth, and age's course began.
May I exclaim, " blessed day !
When I became a thoughtful man."
4<s4^l4&r"&^'5~^
60
THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE.
I SAW upon a sunny site
A graceful floweret bloom,
But cruel frost at coming night
Convey' d it to the tomb.
I saw upon this busy stage
Delighted children play,
But death, unmindful of their age,
Hath swept them all away.
I saw the ruddy cheek at noon,
With hue of blushing red.
And sparkling eye, by evening borne
To slumber with the dead.
But yesternight a monarch held
On earth imperious sway ;
Lo, better fate his might dispell' d
Before the dawn of day.
Then, what is life ? — a mingled scene
Of joy, and hope, and fear,
Though fortune kind may intervene,
How short it lingers here !
Time, as a constant rolling stream,
Through ages floweth on.
To cast and close the human dream
In vast oblivion.
61
THE NEW YEAR.
Written for, and inserted in tlie Lincolnshire Herald, January
1859, on the occasion of its being reduced in price.
Part I.
Farewell to thee, sinking year !
To every member of thy ti'ain
I say farewell. What hast thou there ?
If 'tis the record of thy reign,
let me scan its wondrous page !
let me run its glories o'er,
Before thou quit the chequered age
Of human life, for evermore.
Alas 'tis dark, the glories few !
"WTien I perceive the sinful band,
The guilty tribe, the murd'rous crew,
Are rife and ready through the land,
Alas ! few joys burst on the sight
From martial fame the scene to cheer ;
But may knowledge gather light.
Her " Herald " bless the rising year.
Lo ! she bids the world's vast record
Enter at the cottage door ;
Plutus hath no ruling sword
To keep its presence from the poor.
62 THE NETV XEAB.
Lo ! the " Herald " of our province
Hears the outcry of the age ;
May wisdom and the pen of science
Be the authors of her page.
May it to our ancient Borough
Prove the monitor of truth ;
I^ot a record of to-morrow,
Not a slander sheet, forsooth !
"While the guardians of its pages
Wish to its worthy readers here.
The next, the turning leaf of ages.
May prove to all a blissful year.
Pakt II.
Swift the tide of time is rolling,
Tears are bounding out of sight,
Loud the storms of age are boiling.
Centuries waging puny might.
What is man ? a fading flower,
Bloometh only for a day ;
As the foliage of the bower,
Lo ! unseen, he falls away.
But the tribute of his glory
Is not lost ; the roll of fame
In our " Herald" tells the story,
Wrests from grasping age his name.
May it be the burghers ever
Of our fenny city prove
Truthful record of the river
Where the stately barges move.
THE NEW YEAE. 63
When the foreign barks arrive,
Laden from the Swedish coast,
"When the thrifty Dutchmen strive
To urn their Cuba in the post.
As our fellow- townsmen rise,
May it tell with true delight ; «-
When a comet marks the skies,
Fair mistress of the sable night.
May it e'er uphold the honour
Of Saint Botolph on the plain,
As the millions look upon her,
Lo ! they wonder, look again.
Queen of churches ! as thy steeple
Rises in majestic might,
Proud of thee well may the people
Be who dwell around thy site.
Paet III.
Great, noble institution.
Ever by thee wisely led.
May the English constitution,
Own thee as its fountain-head.
Kings may fear, and nations tremble.
Senates too bemoan their fate
As they view their might dissemble
Who disown thee, first estate.
Yea, their law is but deception.
And its greatest wisdom base ;
Only truth shall find reception —
Prosper in the human race ;
64 THE NEW TEAK.
Lo ! the workman guides the nation,
Learns the history of his state ;
Peasants, blest with inspiration,
Argue fiercely in debate.
May the press of Britain ever
Plead the cause of virtue's might;
may no infringement sever]
Justice from her pages right.
As from modern Thebes their voices
Daily tell our favour' d land
Latest news, the state rejoices —
Plying swift across the strand.
May the " Herald" from the city
Of our fenny country tell
Cheerful minds a pleasing ditty,
Sons of toil a magic spell ;
May it be the politician.
Prove a guide to duty here,
"While it seeks a high position,
Bounding o'er the rolling year.
65
ON THE PAST YEAR.
Lo ! on the rapid wings of Time,
Another changing year has flowm,
While nature in her work sublime,
Receives it as her lawful own :
fleeting scene ! empty dream !
How quick thy shadows disappear,
While further sink beneath the stream
The records of the dying year.
While thousands here have ceased to play
Their part upon life's bustling stage,
Are in the current swept away,
Of swift and quick departing age ;
We rise to play their acts again, —
Upon their faded scenes appear,
And little think oiu' worldly reign
May end before another year.
May peace her blessings throw around.
As we succeeding pages turn
Of life. may her voice resound,
May Freedom's lamp for ever bnrn ;
may the child of love below,
With his delighted smile appear.
Dismiss life's ripples as they flow
In joy, and hail each coming year.
66 ON THE PAST YEAK.
How rapid ! Time is on the wing,
How quick the various seasons fly !
May kind experience ever bring,
Her gracious aid to you and I ;
Then, when our prime of life is past,
And grey with age our heads appear.
May brighter pleasures come at last,
A glorious never-ending year.
^Di<3^
67
PEACE.
How blest ! how delightful the voice
Of Peace, her fair presence how dear,
She bids the earth's people rejoice,
And stayeth the dull sound of fear ;
The land of the rose and the vine,
Are thankful, at rest ; their cares sleep,
They forget the ill cares of the mind,
No more do they murmur or weep.
The nymph of contentment, the spirit of love.
Pours on them her blessings from heaven above.
As by the fond smile of delight.
The cheek both of peasant and king
Are lit by its beams gay and bright,
While cheerful her virtues they sing ;
For joy is the chime of creation,
The voices of pleasure and mirth,
Eesound to the end of the nation,
To welcome her presence on earth.
The sound of the bugle is silent, at ease
The warrior rests on the triumph of peace.
Oh, long on the plains of our island !
May the flower of liberty bloom ;
Oh may no ill fate with her harsh wand
Consign that fair gem to the tomb.
f2
68 PEACE.
May Britain look forth to the morning,
"When virtue shall dwell on the earth,
"When the nations shall cast off their mourning,
And hail in delight the fair birth
Of Peace ; -when no echo resounds in the grove,
But the falling of waters, the voice of the dove.
-oo'axs^o.^
69
WAR.
How horrid ! how cruel the sound
Of war, which assaileth the ear ;
How swift doth the message rebound
To clothe the vast nations with fear.
The land of honey and wine,
Where peaceful the currents are flowing ;
The land of the myrtle and vine,
Alas ! their ill fortunes are knowing.
Dark is their prospect to mount the fierce car,
And plunge in the evils and horrors of war.
The peasant must quit his fond home,
The scenes of his childhood and mirth.
In death's chequered valley to roam,
And fight for the land of his birth.
Instead of the sound in the morn.
Of the stream, or the chanticleer crowing ;
In the land of the melon and com
The bugles of armies are blowing.
The clash of the phalanx resoundeth afar,
As they rush to the din and confusion of war.
But, oh, may Britannia rejoice,
And tell in a song of delight
The nations that love is her voice ;
That peace is her lot thi'ough the fight.
70 WAE.
Oh, may no ill fortune assail her ;
May truth be the strength of her plea ;
The land of the oak and sailor,
The land of the joyous and free.
Then Mars may incite, and his tempest may form
In dark clouds of vengeance — she conquers the stonm.
=*c^
^s
71
ON THE MEMORIAL WINDOW
Lately erected in Boston Chnrch, by the Freemen, to John
Laughton, as a tribute of their esteem — he being the
founder of the National Schools.
Feeemex, in our hallow'd pile
Ye've wrought a noble deed,
Where I perceive the living smile
Of gratitude, the dearest wile
Of her devoted creed.
Blest be your work, for ever bless'd,
The tribute of your love,
To him who lies in silent rest,
Beneath the stone in acts confess'd,
Prepared to live above.
Who in your antique borough shared
Its merriment and strife ;
Who for your children's good declared
His wish ; for them a course prepared,
To win the race of life.
mark the sound of Laughton' s name
Whose virtues never died,
But live to tell his honour' d fame
In future years to bear his claim,
So purely justified.
ON A ITEMOEIAL WINDOW.
! may the memories of our dead
Eemind us of the time,
Few are the rays the sun has shed
Upon his tomb : a century's fled
In Age's solemn chime.
may that sacred building tell,
may its relics ever bear.
Truthful records from the cell
Of death, where generations fell,
And sleep their last sleep there.
73
THE TWA BRIGS OF BOSTON.
'Twas night, few sounds disturb' d tlie burghers' rest,
When noisy crews in hxbouring found a zest
For sleep, and silent was the sailor's song;
In mighty force the Witham roU'd along.
As o'er its flood an ancient brig uprear'd
Its huge rude form, whose safety long was fear'd,
"When by the fates, for fear of limb or jig.
The borough folks had built another brig :
'Twas late, when passing o'er its modern form,
Methought I heard the brewing of a storm ;
I stay'd awhile, when lo ! beneath my frame,
I heard the new brig to the auld proclaim :
THE NEW BRIG.
" Begone, auld tottering neighbour, from my sight.
Thou art not fit by day, much less by night.
To bear the anxious pilgrim on his way,
Sometime thou' It fa' and hurl him in the spray ;
Thy 'cute auld piers, the narrow compass' span.
Looks but a beaver's arch — ' no work of man.' "
THE AULD BRIG.
" Alas ! I ken, young chiel, my days are short.
And too I ken thou art but badly taught ;
When thou hast liv'd to hear old Botolph's chime
As long as I, methinks thy dwindled time
74 THE TWA BEIGS OF BOSTON.
"Will fain be here ; thou'lt raise no lofty head,
But then vreel trow thy auld companion dead.
Across the flood I carried every day,
Through every season, yet so lean my pay,
That if my limbs ago had been repaired,
For coming ages yet I should be spared.
So now, young brig, though you in bairn time smile,
Auld age will come whom ' thou dost now revile.' "
THE NEW BRIG.
" Thou'rt sure to have some self-conceited song,
Auld jade ! for thou hast liv'd a year o'erlong,
Thy wailie acts in truth deserve no swaggie,
Methinks they're nought, thysel' a squattling braggie,
Say not thy frame for ages would be spared,
If thy auld spauls afore had been repaired ;
They were not worth it, for thy hideous creak,
'Twas not of warls, but like old Hornie's squeak.
Talk not to me about my lofty head.
Or think that I shall grieve o'er thee when dead ;
Soon will thy quaintly presence be forgot.
Though rolling centuries shall not stir a jot
My own keystane, when Botolph's site is bare,
"When chattering daws have lost their covert there ;
In pride I'll stand, when trees upon that plain
Before me shake 'mid stacks of brie and stane."
THE AtTLD BEIG.
" Young friend, we ken thou'rt but a puny form
Just raised, thou'st seen no rugged wintry storm,
No blustering tempest hast thou yet defied,
Or felt a quiver from the fearfu' tide.
THE TWA BBIGS OF BOSTON. 75
Why call me braggie ? Of the acts I've wrought
I gently tell thee, by long ages taught :
I've known the knight upon his noble horse,
And buxom damsel, on my keystane cross;
I've heard the tolling of the convent bell,
And ken the spot where Father Jerome fell.
So learn the relics of experienced age.
Thou'rt but a bairn, think not thyself a sage,
Say not thou'lt live when Botolph's site is bare,
I'll spae in truth thou ne'er wilt have sic fare."
THE IfEW BRIG.
" Well row, old friend, I ken thy words are true,
That rolling age will have its loyal due ;
But shall I, wrought with iron's stoutest might.
As soon as thee look but a trembling sprite ?
Shall this frail creeping tide o'erwhelm my form,
Or shall I fa' beneath a puny storm ?
But as our time in snarling' s badly spent,
I will award to thee our argument.
I do not think myself a learned sage.
Who knoweth wonders taught by primsie age ;
I only thought thou'd better lig thy head
In peace than thraw thy timmers in the bed.
To stop the current, and to form the clang
Of simple tattlers and the haivering thrang,
So when thou dies mayst thou find welcome rest,
For ever honour'd and for ever blest."
THE ATJLD BKIG.
" Leezeme! young bairn, for wehavemadethie'sweel,
I own thy gude sense, and delighted feel.
76 THE TWA BEIGS OF BOSTON.
Afore we part let me a lesson give —
A word of counsel how thou here must live,
Though I weel ken advice, like ill-got seed,
On barren ground is often lost indeed;
For tittering taupies keep their ears aloof
From wholesome caution and from wise reproof ;
But mayst thou be an outlaw to the rule,
jVor deem thy teacher but a chattering fool :
Serve well the borough, and when thou'st grown auld
Thy goodly acts, as mine, will then be told ;
While thrifty burghers oft thy keystane cross.
Grow grey as it, and like it gather moss,
Mayst thou remind them as the winter's blast,
So fierce and keen.
Is to the year, so auld age comes at last,
And shuts the scene !"
sDiCe
77
SPRING.
Lo, ghastly Winter quits the scene !
His rigid rule is past ;
Triumphant Spring surmounts the throne,
And calms the chilly blast.
Again delighted Nature sees
Her jewels leave the tomb :
Behold, array'd in graceful hues,
Her sprightly beauties bloom.
While at the early dawn of day
The cuckoo charms the ear,
With merry voice proclaims her reign —
welcome messenger I
■'o'-
Eesplendent in the glorious sky,
Bright Phoebus gilds the dawn,
He paints the chambers of the east,
And hails the blushing morn.
■"■o
With gladsome rush the little stream,
No more by fetters bound.
Through flowciy mead pursues its course
Through vale and hallow'd ground.
may we ever here below
Her lovely graces sing,
Eejoice that blustering Winter's o'er,
And greet the birth of Spring.
78
KEMEMBEU DEATH.
Ye striplings on the busy stage
Of life, unknown to cares of age,
Ye early wanderers on the plain,
Both in the sunshine and the rain,
llemember death !
In every dear and transient scene
Eemember he may intervene,
And blast thy hopes, however clear,
And sorrows mingle with thy fear :
Remember death !
Ye who find your fate on earth
Mingled with delight and mirth.
Ye who find your mortal way
Thickly strew'd with flowerets gay,
Remember death !
Though you find the journey here
Peaceful, and your voyage clear.
Think not silence rules the sky.
Or the waves in slumber lie, —
Remember death !
Bear in mind the vale of life
Is but a pilgrimage of strife :
Man's importance only pleadeth
For the grave. His actions leadeth
Unto death !
79
THE TYRANT PIKE.
A FABLE.
There lived a pike of mickle might,
The terror of the lake,
The little fishes heard with fright
The noise he used to make.
For fifty years his cruel reign
The laAV of fate decreed ;
For fifty years with troubled pain
They saw the monster feed.
A hundred fish he every day
With greedy appetite
Consumed, while myriads fled away
At his beleaguered sight.
At last the fishes of the lake
Resolved upon a day
Friends with the monster fierce to make,
And take his life away.
He spum'd the angler's tempting bait,
His line he heeded not,
"Which other poor lost fishes ate,
And learnt their awful lot.
80 THE TTEANT PIKE.
'Twas on a grey, dull afternoon,
Beneath the waters lay
A luscious treat ; their ruler soon
They fetch' d to eat the prey.
Unmerciful, without a cau^e,
He sprung, but, lo ! the last,
For deep within his fleshy jaws
The fatal hook stuck fast.
When to the watery nation's bound
The joyful tidings fled,
The small and great re-echoed round
" Eejoice, the monster's dead."
MOEAL.
The moral of my fable I
Need scarcely add, for all
Look for the time, and joyfully
Proclaim a tyrant's fall.
— ©Di<3©-
81
ESSAYS.
HAPPINESS.
The chief desire of man is to live in happiness
below, and to enjoy its unrivalled merits hereafter.
But, alas ! how different the devices for its attain-
ment. I will divide the seekers of happiness into
three classes. First, They who believe it to exist
in the light and empty occupations which are too
often termed the "joys of life." Secondly, They
who cast aAvay the air of mirth, and the smile of
joy, for the solitude of a mysterious imagination,
regarding the business of life an empty employment,
its trials and cares totally vacant of any design of
our Creator. Thirdly, They who pay due observ-
ance to the laws of God and man, who make the
path of life as smooth as their fallen state will allow,
enjoy themselves whilst on earth, and when their
appointed hour of death arrives are ready to comply
with his stern request, with a smile upon their lips,
and a conscious indicator within of their just actions
below, preparing them for bliss in the world to come.
Eeturning to the first class I have mentioned, they
82 ESSAYS.
"who witli iinremittiDg ardour persist in that vain
pursuit, thinking happiness and pleasure of what-
ever kind go hand in hand, forget that the novelty of
worldly enjoyments decays, till at last when the scene
of want is before their eyes, they perceive to their dis-
may it was but the shadow of happiness presented it-
self to their view. Poor deluded creatures ! led by their
simple minds to fancy that wealth, fashion, gaiety,
and happiness are inseparable, what unbounded at-
tempts at the expense of modesty and propriety they
with thousands, seek for happiness, with light belief
of sorrow, though inward grief reminds them of
their miserable career ; others believe if they obtain
wealth, they as a natural consequence must increase
their worldly enjoyments. Xow, in a degree they
are right in this instance if they go no farther, but
how few stop here : but as their wealth increases,
so does their love of money and worldly allurements,
till lastly, gold becomes the idol of their hearts, and
their ideas of religion become shallow and vague.
The ambitious and proud think dignity of appear-
ance, high descent, and noble birth, are indispensable
to happiness. How plainly they are in the wrong.
For in vain they seek in the scenes of their luxurious
actions for that placid nymph Contentment, who
dwells and cheers the lot of the humblest peasant.
Unenviable beings ; to cast away the bright facilities
of happiness, to wear the robe of empty pride which
at last, like their frail bodies, becomes the prey of
the moth, and the worm of corruption. In the second
place, they who assume the garb of solitary delight,
take unto themselves mysterious ideas, both of their
I
HAPPINESS. 83
Maker's design and their own existence. They think
the treasures of the world not worth having, its tran-
sient sweets not worth enjoying. They behold the
man of business, even if he be a pious individual, but
a deceiver who wears a cloak of religion for the bet-
ter insurance of wealth. They regard the cares and
trials of life as current events passing before the eyes
of all, leaving no impression either of gladness or
dismay on their minds. Deaf to the entreaties of
conscience, they heed not its rebuke. What a pic-
ture of human frailty, drawn by sorrow, coloured by
deception. They have no proper design of future
happiness, no source of pleasure that leadeth iu sight
of a blissful state hereafter, whatever is their aim
or desire, but being weak and dark- minded they pass
through the world in a state of crafty solemnity;
lastly, as the bubbles of the stream they disappear and
are seen no more. Now, arriving at the third class of
persons I have mentioned here, what a desirable situ-
ation is theirs who pay strict observance to the admi-
rable laws of nature, as heaven itself designs and
sanctions, who for their position in life are thankful,
whatever it may be. Contentment is the ruler of
their actions and the disposer of their ways ; though
scenes of trial and distress disturb their actions, they
heed thera not; but as the little craft rides safely
through the deep waters, so they with the guide of
faith surmount the stern difficulties of life, and by
patience break through the briars and thorns which
obstruct this mortal path, and at last are welcomed
to that celestial kingdom to wear a never-fading
crown of glory, and to abide in happiness evtrlasting
g2
84
MONEY.
Wheit man first appears upon the stage of life few
of his bodily powers are assumed — no mental power
is apparently developed : consequently, as the fruit
is owing to the management' of the tree, so are his
prospects of life depending upon that tuition and
attention he receiveth in the days of his childhood
and youth ; for as the little tree, which is neither
watered nor sheltered from the scorching sun, soon
dieth away, so it is with man. If he lacketh proper
attention in his early life, he is so injured by the
ruling power of his passion, which, being corrupt,
destroyeth his every energy for good, and finally his
hopes of happiness and comfort are blasted for ever.
He beareth no fruit, but lieth ready for the spade of
the vile husbandmen to dig him from the earth and
cast him in the consuming flame. Another great
portion of man's being, urging upon the nature of his
existence, is the sphere of life in which he appears at
the time of his birth If he is born rich, and has a
discontented mind, he is for ever pitiable and poor ;
born poor, and in more unfavourable circumstances,
if through the merits of a brighter reason he is con-
tented with his lot, that is the man I envy : he is
rich in the beauties of a noble mind, he looketh upon
money as a blessing in life pertaining to worldly
MOJSET. 85
affairs, but in nowise requisite for the attainment of
liap2:)iness hereafter. Some people think happiness
is seated in wealth, are continually observing the
success of other persons' undertakings, neglecting
their own, and think the world was made for them
alone, and they have the greatest right to possess it ;
in fact, their hearts are corrupted and led astray by
evil and vain desires, not intentionally wicked. No,
no, though instead of annihilating, they become the
slaves of their passions, and finallj^, Avhen poverty
overtakes them, they reflect with astonishment on
their past career, and view with horror their present
condition. But why should they ? for if they esti-
mate the valuable time they have lost in pondering
over other people's affairs, they will see they have
wasted the strength of their mental and bodily
acquirements beneath the shackles of their envious
dispositions : it being now too late for any amendment
in their career, they are as people armed to relieve
another's castle at the same time their own is falling
beneath the fire of their carnal enemies; lastly
quitting the stage of life as neither observers of the
works of the Almighty nor justifiers of the admirable
system of mankind. The next class of persons I beg
to treat of, is the half-starved, dirty-looking being
known by the name of a miser. No matter w^hat
sphere of life he appears in, if he is born with that
craving disposition. Though rich, he will grow
richer; if poor, by some means, not always discreet
or honourable, he intends to accumulate earthly
wealth through the curious contrivances of his nig-
gardly disposition. Behold his dwelling half in
8 6 ESSAYS.
pieces, his ground uncultivated and desolate ; but
still further view the interior of his abode : there he
sits by himself, not even a cat to accompany him in
his solitude ; even a mouse dare not encroach upon,
his dominions; there is no crumb, so much less cheese,
for him ; an old jug minus a spout, a kettle minus
a lid, a few ill- contrived boards to supply the office
of a table, with sundry little worthless utensils,
comprise his household stock; his bed is straw; his
chief and only cheerful desire of pleasure resting in
the occupation of estimating the value of his bags ;
his greatest delight is praying to his golden god !
What a picture of human depravity, of earthly sin-
fulness. And the end of this dark-minded being —
starved to death : his money, the result of half a
century's hoarding, left at the mercy, and too oft the
discretion of that person forming the next class I
intend to notice — the spendthrift. Whatever his
position on the stage of life may be, what a deplora-
ble faculty he possesses to expend his fortune in
luxuriant pleasures common to the evil desires of a
free but uncareful mind, which lessen his means, eat
up his ideas of morality, and lastly, his constitution
yields to the effect of the fatal poison. Unhappy
being, whose only delight is in the sensual and dis-
gusting pleasures of a wicked world ; in vain the
fond authors of his existence grieve over his troubles,
he heedeth not their counsel, and despiseth their
advice. Follow him in liis career, see his excite-
ment at the billiard-table, the changes that affect his
countenance on the betting-stand ; what visions of
gold flit constantly before him, how eager he is to
MONEY. 87
obtain them. See him hurl his hat in the air at the
smile of fortiine, but in the reverse turn what a
horrid grin depicts his inward trouble ! What a dis-
graceful picture of human life, to see a man trifling
with his mental capacities, his acquirements, and
talents, with every virtue he possesses, nay, even
bartering tlicm for a short and wretched life,
misei'ably existing in the ebbing and flowing of a
sinful tide which finally swallows him up for ever in
its deadly vortex. He becomes a disgrace to his
parental roof, and the slave of that malignant disease
which corrupteth and allayeth the only spark of
morality he has left, lastly bowing in the prime of
his days to that destroying sickle which waiteth not.
He is, as the flower of the field, forgotten, and they
who bore witness to his presence know it no more;
and, I ask, what reflection can such a person indulge
in upon his dying couch. But, being favoured with
the greatest blessings of life, instead of turning them
to the right account, he has abused their service,
violated the sacred laws of heaven, broken the bond
of human faith, and allowed evil desires to prey upon
his imaginations, which have driven him hastily
from the stage of life to await his resurrection and
the sentence of his Judge. Now, turning to the last
^jart of my brief essay, I beg to express my opinion
regarding the value a wise man sets upon money as
concerns earthly things, and how it pertaineth to
happiness in a future state. Hoping in the ideas of
my worthy readers, it may be near the following :
Born either in poor or affluent circumstances, he is
contented with his lot; though Tortune frowns he
88 ESSAYS.
still smiles; although he owns no mine of gold, no
treasury of valuables, he is possessed of that prize
which they cannot purchase ; for if a man has a
guilty and depraved mind, all the gold in the
universe cannot afford him a moment's consolation or
comfort. Though he is held in derision by many of
his fellow creatures, it decreaseth not his happiness ;
though briars and thorns entangle his path, by per-
severance and cheerful industry he overcometh every
obstacle ; if the fickle goddess smiles upon him, he
expendeth not her blessings in the idle and empty
pleasures of this sinful world, but as the careful ant
provideth for her future wants, he layeth up in the
summer of prosperity for the winter of adversity.
He is thankful to his Maker for the benefits of
health and plenty. Though money is the root of
endless evil, is it not the foundation of pristine
virtues ? For it is given to be a blessing upon earth,
though by its abuse, as in every instance when
persons desecrate their talents, it proveth a deadly
poison to their minds ; while others, born with but
bare prospects of the future, have by prudent indus-
try attained the heights of honour and fame. So,
therefore, my humble conclusion is — amass wealth,
but enjoy it, neither squander or hoard it, but let it
be a source of temporal happiness below, and a tie
of cheerful thankfulness to the mysterious trans-
formation awaiting us. Man ought to be thankful
for and not abuse the kindness of Providence, for if
money is allowed to be the spoke and act'ng power
of an evil mind, innumerable results will follow alike
injurious to the victim as the author of the mischief.
MONET. 89
Instead of money in that case proving a blessing, it
is a curse, and the grand idea of its purpose perverted.
It lopcth all its virtues, and is precisely the root of
incorruptible evil. So, I say, it is a desirable trea-
sure : a treasure worth having, worth striving for.
It strengthens virtue m the wise man ; the fool it
only leadcth into trouble. Lastly, I must add, we
have a great ambassador below as a substitute for its
efficient service, which is contentment — the gem of
hope, the spirit of happiness, the property of all, at
any time, at any season ; so to those bereft of the
needful commodity I advise to be content with theii*
lot ; never repine, for a bright day will dawn after a
stormy night. To those in possession of it let me
add : Use it as a loan, not a fixed property, for you
miist leave it, and it will then prove a blessing and a
lamp to light you from the dark passage of human
life.
90 SONNETS.
A SPRING MOENING.
Beams of tlie rising sun, 'tis with delight
1 view your playful shadows on the robe
Of graceful Flora, when the shades of night
Depart, which wrap in peace the slumb'ring globe.
'Tis with delight I view those streaks divine
Break from the chambers of the eastern sky ;
In purple tints they from the heavens shine.
The dewy vapours. from their presence fly.
As early through the glassy glade I rove,
The cuckoo's blithesome song salutes my ear,
The glorious odours of the flowery grove
"With lovely blossoms crown th' eventful year.
Oh, hand in hand may peace and plenty reign,
And clothe our fields with crops of golden grain.
SUMMER.
Sweet is the prospect of a summer's day.
When Sol's bright chariot rides along the sky ;
As from the trees the lively songsters gay
Pour forth their notes in joyous minstrelsy.
Sweet is the scene that meets the viewing eye,
As to the brook the restless cattle rush ;
As gaudy insects speed their flight on high,
And woods resound the watchnote of the thrush.
As graceful Flora sprinkles in the grove
Her gems so fair, so beauteous to behold ;
As whispering suitors tell the tale of love, —
Beneath the hawthorn tidings blest unfold ;
"When Nature wears the smile of open bliss,
And her fair children bloom in happiness.
SONNKTS. 91
AUTUMN.
"What raptured feelings iu our minds arise,
As we behold the fading trees around ;
Now Autumn's gales rush fiercely through the skies,
And strew their foliage on the barren ground.
The well-known messenger of sunny days,
The swallow, leaves our isle for warmer air ;
The little ants their many hillocks raise,
And for the winter's freezing blasts prepare ;
"While Nature kind, to every want sincere.
Her creatures clothes with nicely woven fur,
Which must remind us of our journey here,
A needful lesson to our minds confer :
For when the Autumn of our life is past,
"We must be ready for the coming blast.
WINTER.
Lo ! unrelenting "^'^inter comes at last,
"With his attendants in their solemn line ;
He stamps his ardour iu the piercing blast,
His cold embrace the watery plains combine.
The forest kings as lifeless statues stand,
With dark impressions fill the gloomy scene,
"While Nature's children die throughout the land.
Their future advent cannot yet be seen.
There is no singing in the leatless grove.
But all is silent as the shade of death;
No warbling songster echoes forth its love
In tuneful strain; while cold is Flora's breath,
Till spring shall dawn amid her glories here.
And gild the preface of the coming year.
92 SONNET !
PRIDE
MAN ! behold the starry vault, or look'
At nature's pencil in the lovely flower ;
Survey the ocean or the crystal brook,
Or smell the perfume of the fragrant bower.
Think of the itaker of them all, sublime ;
Remember He's the same who made the worm
That crawls unseen, the constant friend of Time,
The ruthless waster of thy lowly form.
1 say, 'tis He who for just purpose made
Thee but of dust ; where is thy might and pride ?
Think not of beauty, which in time will fade.
Or gold, which all ere long must lay aside ;
Divest thyself of all such empty show,
Thy Maker learn, thy feeble nature know.
CONTENTMENT.
'TwAS on a common's wide and wild domain,
Beneath a rock a little spring was hid ;
Fed by pure and refreshing rain.
It trickled gladly through its sandy bed.
Proceeding through the wild and sunny vale,
Through tangled thicket, next through fruitful
glade.
It hurried forth in true, though gentle swell,
And in each ravine formed a white cascade.
As human minds, though oft by fate misled,
Its waters tinged, and in contempt oft driven,
It ceased not to flow, but onward made
Its rolling course to please the will of Heaven.
So by Contentment, if the mind is blest
Of man, by fate how can it be deprest ?
SONNETS. 93
FRIENDSHIP.
[
L
Man, if thou hast no friend thou art undone —
A friend in truth I mean ; not one that leaves
Or quits thy presence in the adverse turn
Of fortune, but who in his mind receives
Part of thy troubles and thy worldly care ;
Who brings thee safely through tlie storm at last
Then if thy friend is suffered worse to fare,
Grant him assistance through the cruel blast :
For clouds of dark adversity in might,
Will dim the glories of the brightest day ;
But through the mist of its infernal height,
Kind perseverance fights her onward way,
Wliilst unforgotten back to memory cling
The smiles of fortune in life's early spring.
ON THE DEATH OF THE
REV. G. CRABBE.
What need of Homer's verse, or Tully's phrase,
Crabbe, while thou liest in the silent tomb ;
When Nature's dictate, ardent in thy praise,
Shall own thy memory in years to come.
One who in birth by fate sublime was blest
With every charm by magic genius given,
And in thy life thy virtues were confest,
A beam reflected from the rays of heaven.
But He who dwells in endless light above.
Thought thee deserving of a better fate
Than scanning human life, so in His love
Took thee to reign in pure celestial state !
And many wish that Time's last days were done.
Their hearts and thine had mingled into one.
94 SONKEXS.
ROEBUCK'S SPEECH ON THE
CONSPIRACY BILL, 1858.
Sweet to the Briton is the sound of peace,
He loves to view the gales of heaven blow free.
But if harsh fate bids human power cease,
To dwell agreed he asks for liberty.
There was a time when duty's path was bare,
But blest with honour ; lo ! I quickly saw,
Well clad for conquest, thee on it appear ;
I heard thee tell the world thy country's law.
With confidence that only could exist
In pure minds, thou spake ; the brilliant rays
Of thy great genius shone ; lo ! fled the mist ;
Thou provedst to England's Senate Virtue's ways.
Oh, Eoebuck ! thou deservest esteem and love
From all that's just below, that's blest above.
TO A MISER.
Why dost thou think, man, that gold was made
To be thy god, the idol of thy heart ;
The ruling power where thy hopes are laid.
The only spring from whence thy joys depart ?
Why lay up treasures where the thief may steal,
Or hoard in coflt'ers for corruption's spoil ?
Ill-gotten riches, who thy views conceal,
In dire sorrows dip thy mortal coil.
vain, simple man ! to cast away
Those lasting joys which never, never die.
For empty pleasures which in time decay,
And at the mercy of the tempter lie.
^lelt up thy golden god, forget the loss,
Believe in Christ, and bear His holy cross.
SONNETS.
95
CHILDHOOD.
How sweet to muse upon that faded scene,
Or in kind memory to reflect a view
From school-boy's pastime on the village green,
Close by the cottage where the hawthorn grew.
How oft- our garb was trimmed with decent care,
Though noticed little in our lightsome thought,
And oft replaced our ever ruffled hair,
Whilst Time again to us our troubles brought.
How oft were pictured to ourselves those days
Of happier visions and unclouded skies ;
And fancied pleasures linger in the rays
Of brighter suns, alas ! which never rise.
We little kno-^ang heavier cares and strife
Await the traveller from the spring of life.
chiiist:\ias.
Again December's race' is well-nigh run.
Another year is flitting from the stage
Of Time ; and seldom shall the rising sun
Difl'use its beams before another age
Its reign begins. But let us cease awhile ;
Another guest intrudes and takes apart;
He changes Winter's If own into a smile,
With joyful glee he visits every heart, —
'Tis Chi'istmas ; and as waters in the dells
Of ocean caverns constantly pour forth,
Their cheerful and unwearied canticles.
So let us praise his efforts here on earth.
And may the sounds of many nations clear
Unite in peace to meet the coming year.
96 SONNETS.
TIME.
ALL devourer of tlie might of man,
"Whose feeble doings sink beneath thy stream ;
Thou givest out the measure of his span,
His actions are all but an empty dream ;
Thou thinnest with thy sword the ranks of life.
Whilst all that's mortal owns thy powerful sway ;
The hush of peace, yea, and the battle's strife,
Fall chosen victims of thy powerless prey.
Tea, and the warrior in his laurels bright,
The midnight genii and their prophecies,
Are sunk in truth from all discerning sight ;
But passing thought denotes their fallacies.
So wilt thou roll till this frail orb in fire
Shall end, and all, yea all that is, expire.
FAITH.
GEEAT inspirer of the human frame.
Who tunest our efforts to a blest desire.
Thee with thy sisters bear the foremost claim
To earthly gratitude in heavenly fire.
Thou cheer'st the latent drooping scene of life,
And throw' st a beam across the darkest mind
Though tempests rage and evil gusts are rife,
If thou but smile, to fate we are resigned.
noble grant ! by law of sacred love
Thou lightest up this mortal wilderness ;
By thee we hope to live in courts above.
Throw off our sins and dwell in happiness.
May thy bright shadow to us ever be
A guide to live in blest eternity.
SONNETS. 97
HOPE.
BLEST companion of my early life,
Fate cannot harm thy pure immortal fame ;
Though vice assails thee with its envious strife,
It falleth short to hurt thy glorious name.
Though mists and storms encircle me around,
Though Fortune fails from her benignant store
Me to supply, yet I court not the sound
Of wealth, but hope for peace when time is o'er.
Though health itself, the greatest blessing here,
Denies me succour, yet 1 look above,
And true my mind is void of every fear ;
If death itself approaches, 'tis in love.
Te mortals here, who dwell beneath the sky,
Cling not to earth, but place your hopes on high.
CHARITY.
I CAME into the world and took a view
Of human nature in its fairest light ;
I saw vast numbers on the path pursue
Of changing fate their future scenes more bright ;
I saw the beggar sitting by the way
Entreating alms, but on the other side
The haughty pass'd ; for how could they betray
Their high desires, or insult their pride ?
But lo, I saw approach, of modest Tame,
A being, who, though humble, wore a smile
Of love ; he fed the beggar, ask'd his name.
And shared with hi in the blessings of his pile.
At this, I said, " Enough, for I have seen
The joy of life — earth's most endearing scene."
n
98 SONNETS.
APEIL.
Again, changeful April, we discern
Thy varying sunshine and thy sudden hail ;
A glimpse of Summer and the dark return
Of cheerless "Winter in the stormy gale.
Again dame !N^ature's works we see array'd
In graceful foliage, and the verdure green
Covers the earth, while plainly is displayed
The gilded prospect of a brighter scene.
But why dost thou to empty hopes give rise,
Or in thy course a murmur entertain.
While Iris with her colours paints thy skies.
And the dark clouds discharge the falling rain ?
But now to thee we grateful homage pay.
Although dark shadows dim thy brightest day.
HUMAN LIFE.
I FANCIED on the bridge of life I stood :
Beneath its arch I saw the human tide
Flow on with Time in its eventful flood,
I saw upon its surf a child and guide ;
Its guide was Truth, who held its fairy form
In safety from the wildness of the stream.
Girt in true wisdom, proof against the storm.
While passing o'er it sung a noble theme.
I look'd again, when, lo, an earthly god
Appeared, while hundreds in his train he bore.
Each in their hands upheld a golden rod ;
And lo ! at once they sank to rise no more.
I now thought I was struggling in the stream.
But, glad surprise ! I found 'twas but a dream.
SONNETS.
EVENING.
99
Behold, reflected in the western sky,
Apollo's rays. The beauties of the day
Depart in peace, to other regions fly,
Whilst night again assumes her solemn sway.
Another race of her career is o'er;
Another day hath passed in fleeting age;
But all is gone, and can return no more
To deck the glories of the fairest page.
No more my ears with worldly noises ring ;
The busy multitudes in silent sleep
Are hushed ; though gloom around her shadows
fling.
I
I see fair Luna from the azure peep.
She throws around us her white stainless robe,
And wraps in silver light the slumbering globe.
WAR.
Alas ! what is that voice, that furious cry
Of human discord sounding in the ear ?
"XNIiat is that echo bounding far on high ?
Or what's the object of its visit here?
"Why is the iron phalanx armed for fight ?
Why do the nations court the ghastly tomb
Of death, and mingle in the cup of spite
More fatal poison to increase their doom ?
Why do they tinge the rippling brook with blood ?
Or urge the peasant to the direst fate
Of war, as worthless but for carrion food ?
How weak is man, instead of nobly great.
Soon may that morning dawn of beauties rare :
The spear a sickle be, the sword a share !
H 2
100 SONNEIS.
PEACE.
Lo, blissful silence rules the worldly scene,
iSTo sound of discord rides along the air ;
The powers of Heaven with the Fates convene
Of earth to hold their tranquil meeting here.
No sound is heard, no clarion horseman calls
His brother warriors to the desp'rate fight ;
No cannon's boom, no fiery shaft appals,
Or camp fire throws across the plain its light.
The little stream no more is tinged with blood,
No grieving mother hangs her doleful head,
No more the hungry vultures seek their food,
Or rav'ning wolves fight o'er the mangled dead.
But peace on earth makes known her loving sway.
The nations hear, and willingly obey.
TRUTH.
viEGiN of simplicity ! child
Of pure virtue, how can I behold
Thy favoured smile, thy actions ever mild,
Thy love, which never, never groweth cold,
"Without admiring ? In the greatest might
Of troubles, which thy godly actions prove,
The deed that bears thee to the skies of light
Transmits thy actions to the world above,
Whilst fiction fades and cunning ways do fail
To meet their proof. Without desponding care.
Thou walk'st triumphant to the judgment rail.
Arrayed in beauties of the brightest glare.
virgin, can I but obtain from thee
Thy valued smile, I am for ever free !
SOiSNETS. 101
DESPAIR.
HARSH Despair, shall it my soul betray ?
Or shall I sink into its depths profound,
AVhilst one fair glimpse of Heaven cheers my way
Below, whilst one kind hope to me is found ?
horrid fate ! to bid the scenes adieu
Of life, however chequered they appear.
Whilst we remain, I doubt it not, a few
Enraptured joys will smile, our hearts to cheer.
Give not thy mind, man, to stern despair;
Though grief is hard, 'tis not for thee alone.
How oft we deem the worst of all our fare.
And place the darkest trials as our own.
Why should we faint when there's a world above
Demands our zeal, our reason, and our love ?
THE SABBATH.
How sweet it is upon that hallow'd mom,
When sacred thoughts for once our minds inspire.
To hear those sounds, on flippant breezes borne,
That break in torrents from the village spire ;
How sweet to drive all empty cares away.
And lend our voices to the solemn song.
To think of Heaven on that holy day,
Throw off the world, with all its bustling throng;
And who with eyes unchanged can view those stones
That mark the spot where our forefathers sleep,
Denote where lie at rest their weary bones,
And faithful watchings o'er their bodies keep,
Without remembering man is in his bloom
To-day — to-morrow sleeping in the tomb ?
102 SONNETS.
BOSTON CHURCH.
Oft as I view thy mighty tower, that rears
Its head in pride unto the lofty skies,
Eomantic legends of departed years,
With their strange stories, in my mind arise ;
I think I hear again that solemn peal
Of holy voices in their heavenly song ;
I see them at thy sacred altars kneel,
And sable knights thy ancient cloisters throng.
noble pile ! truly sacred place !
Though in thy sepulchres our fathers sleep,
Now they have long since run their earthly race,
And trailing mosses o'er their bodies creep.
"We know that we shall soon our sceptre yield,
Submit to death, and others take the field.
A SONNET ON THE REMAINS OF
SLEAFORD CASTLE.
NOBLE relic of the bygone age,
Whose massive walls retained our fathers' trust,
Thou, like thy builders, from the varying page
Of Time hast fallen to mingle with the dust ;
Thy mighty towers long have disappear' d ;
That ancient keep, that in its glory stood,
Has fall'n to ruin ; where the turrets rear'd
Their heads in pride, I view the rippling flood.
JSTo more in thee I hear the clashing sound
Of horsemen gathering for the bloody fight.
But lowing cattle feed upon that ground.
And herbage clothes the hillocks of thy site.
Thy former glory now is l)ut a tale
That shows how vain is man, his works how frail.
SONNETS. 10;J
LIFE.
SwEEX to the fainting pilgrim is the stream,
Sweet to the captive tidings of being free,
Sweet to the weary sleep's refreshing dream,
But sweeter than all is life's blest liberty.
But yet, its sweets how varied, how unsure.
Its joys uncertain ; as the summei''s sun
Reclines to rest while fretful tempests pour
Their sudden rage, so soon its glory done !
But there are visions fair to human sight.
Of lasting peace, of never-euding bliss,
Where all may wear a robe of spotless light,
Where all may dwell in one fond happiness.
So, be prepared ! for Death, come when he may,
The rich and poor alike his rule obey.
DEATH.
Oh, ghastly King ! whose legions at command
Bear forth the orders of thy mighty Avill,
How swift thy message runneth through the land,.
To bid the voice of mortal sound be still.
How sudden, too, thou enterest at the dome.
And robb'st the noble of his offspring dear !
How dark thy presence in the peasant's home,
To cut the tie that binds his feelings here !
Alas ! though Vice, thy willing aide-de-camp,.
Doth make sad ravage in thy service rife.
May Vu'tue strew her blessings 'mid the throng,
And Truth unseal the sacred law of life :
For love can conquer, Grace can bear the sting,
'Tis but Humanity obeys her King !
PATRONS.
Copies.
The Earl of Yarborough
• • •
.. ■
... 2
The Earl of Ripon ...
...
• t .
... 6
The Right Honourable Lord Naas
...
... 3
Lord Aveland
• ■ ■
•••
... 1
Lord Monson
.. •
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... 6
Lord Willoughby d'Eresby
...
• • a
... 6
The Lord Mayor of London
• ••
■ ••
... 6
Sir J. S. Pakington, M.P.
.« •
• . .
5
Sir J. TroUope, Bart., M.P.
.. ■
...
... 5
Sir C. Anderson, Bart.
• • •
• . .
... 3
Sir G. E. Welby, Bart.
..«
• « •
... 5
His Grace the Duke of Rutland
• ..
... 2
The Right Honourable C. T.
D'Eyncourt
5
The Right Honourable C. N.
Hamilton
... 10
J. A. Roebuck, Esq., M.P.
... 2
Major Sibthorp, M.P.
... 6
Major Amcotts
... 4
Major Moore
... 3
A. Wilson, Esq., M.P.
... 5
Herbert Ingram, Esq., M.P.
... 12
W. H. Adams, Esq., M.P.
... 2
Banks Stanhope, Esq., M.P.
... 10
G. T. Heueage, Esq., M.P.
... 2
The Mayor of Boston
... 2
The Mayor of Lincoln
... 2
The Mayor of Newark
... 2
106 LIST OF SUBSCRIBEES,
Copies..
J. Sharp, Esq., J.P. ... ... .„ ... 1
C. Allix, Esq., J.P. ... ... ... ... 2
J. F. Smyth, Esq., J.P. ... ... ... 1
W. Hutton, Esq., J.P. ... ... ... 2
M. P. Moore, Esq., C.P. ... ... ... 2
T. Wise, Esq., J.P 1
The Rev. E. Trollope, M.A. ... ... ... 2
The Rev. B. Beridge, M.A. ... ... ... 2
The Rev. H. Manton, B.A. ... ... ... 2
The Rev. G. E. Pattenden ... ... ... 1
The Rev. F. Latham ... ... ... ... 2
The Rev. Isham Case, M.A. ... ... ... 2
The Rev. John Wilson, M.A. ... ... ... 2
Allen, M. E., Sleaford ... ... ... 2
Alderson, A., Esq.
Alderson, W., Esq., Aslackby ...
Asling, Mr., Boston ...
Atkin, Mr., Boston
Abrahams, Mr., Boston
Barford, Mr., Boston ...
Blades, Mr. S., Boston
Baker, Mr. J., Boston
Bargewell, Mr., Boston
Buchanan, Mr., Boston
Buck, Mr. James, Boston
Bazlinton, Mr., Boston
Bartol, Mrs., Boston ...
British Museum
Brown, Mr. J., Sleaford
Boyer, Mr., Sleaford ...
Brooks, Mr., Sleaford
Brown, Mr., Ilolbeach
Ball, Mr., London
Bridges, Mr., London
LIST OF SURSCKIBEKS.
107
Blount, Mr., London
Brenn, Mr., London
Booth, Mr., Boston
Bailey, Mr., Boston
Barratt, Mr., Boston
Bates, Mr., Boston
Baines, Mr., Boston
Brown, Mr. Boston
Bampton, Mr., Sleaford
Battle, Mr. J. K, Lincoln
Christopher, Mr., Heckington
Clayton, Mr. T. L., Boston
Clayton, Mr. W., Boston
Clegg, Dr., Boston ,_
Costall, Mr., Boston ...
Challans, Mr., Boston
Cole, Mr., Boston
Cross, Mr., Boston
Chantry, ]\Ir., Boston
Chevins, Mr., Boston
Croft, Mr,, Boston
Cooper, Mr., Boston ...
Chevin, Mr., Sleaford
Cartwright, Mr. E., Sleaford
Cartwright, Mrs., Ashby
Count, Mr. J. C, Sleaford
Copeland, Mr., Sibsey
Clarke, Mr., London ...
Cooke, JNIr., London ...
Calvert, Mr. T., Branston
Daubney, Mr., Boston
Dawber, Mr. jun., Lincoln
Dunn, Mr., Boston ...
Dixon, Mr., Boston ...
Copies.
2
2
1
2
108 LIST OF STJBSCEIBEES.
Copies.
Dawson, Mr. W., Boston ... ... ... 1
Dickenson, ]\Ir., Boston ... ... ... 2
Dickenson, Mr., Sleaford
Day, Mrs., Sleaford ...
Elkington, Mr., Boston
Ely, Mr., Boston
Elwood, Mr,, Sleaford
Elmore, Mr., Sleaford
EUerby, Mr., Manchester
Fry, J. Esq., Sleaford
Freaks, Mr., Lynn
Fowler, Mr., Boston ...
Forman, Mr., Boston ...
Fernside, Mr., Alford
Freeman, Mr., Yarmouth
Gale, Mr., Boston
Guy, Mr., Boston
Green, Mr., Boston
Geddings, Mr., Boston
Gask, Mr., Boston
Goodacre, Mr., Boston
Goodacre, Mr., Sleaford
Gill, Mr. J., Sleaford
Goodson, Miss
Grey, Miss ...
Greenwood, Miss, Easton ...
Godson, R. Esq., Heckington ...
Gambles, Mr., Lincoln
Hood, Mr., Boston
Haylock, Mr., Boston
Holland, Mr., Boston
Hill, Mr., Boston
Howard, ^Ir., Boston ...
Horry, Mr., Boston ...
Honour, Mr., Boston ...
LIST OP SITBSCEIBEKS. 109
Copies-
Ilucldlestone, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Hol)son, Mr.. Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Hall, jMr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Hattersly, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Harwood, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Huddlcstone, Mr. F., Lincoln ... ... ... 1
Holdich, L., Esq., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Heald, Mr. B., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Hardy, Mr. Jno., Ewerby ... ... ... 1
Ingamells, ]\Ir., Boston ... ... ... 1
Ingoldsby, Mr. J., Boston ... ... ... ]
Jackson, Mr. D., Boston ... ... ... 1
Jackson, Mr. G., Boston ... ... ... 1
Jackson, Mr. C, Boston ... ... ... 1
Jones, Mr. G., Boston ... ... ... 1
Jay, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... I
Jobson, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
King, ]\Ir., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Keal, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Kent, Mr., Sleaford ... ... ... ... 12
Lyall, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Love, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Lucas, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Lammerman, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Lynes, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Long, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Lock, Mr. W., Boston ... ... ... 3
Large, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Lewin, Mr. E. C, Boston ... ... ... 2
Little, Mr. J. C, Boston ... ... ... 1
1
Lamb, Mr., Sleaford ...
Marshall, Mr. R., Boston ... ... ... 20
Mallinson, Mr., Boston ... .. ... 1
Marjason, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Mimmacks, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
no
LIST OF SUBSCKIBEES.
Copies.
Muschamp, Mr., Boston ... ... ... i
Metcalf, Mr., Boston ... ... ... i
Massingham, Mr., Boston ... ... ... i
Marriott, Mr.
Mowson, Mr.
Morton, Mr. John, Boston ... ... ... i
Marshall, Mr. James, Boston ... ... ... i
Musson, ]\Ir. J., Kirkby ... ... „. i
Mastin, Mr., Sleaford ... ... ... i
Marston, Mr., Sleaford ... ... ... l
Morris, Mr., Heckington ... ... ... 1
Nicholson T,. Esq., Boston ... ... ... 2
Norris, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... i
Nicholls, Mr. T., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Overton, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... i
Ostler, Mr. W., Boston ... ... ... 1
Ostler, Mr. A., Boston ... ... ... 1
Oldrid, Mr. J. jun., Boston ... ... ... 1
Oldfield, Mr. J., Bradford ... ... ... 1
Pearson, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Pilley, Mr. J., Boston ... ,. ... I
Pinches, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Poppleton, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Panell. Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Parker, Mr., Boston ... ... ... ... 1
Pierre, Mr. IL, London ... ... ... 19
Partridge, Mr., Heckington ... ... ... 1
Parker, ^Irs., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Parker, Mr. H., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Pridgeon, Mr., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Parry, T., Esq., Sleaford ... ... ... 2
Petchel, Mr., Sleaford ... ... ... 1
Powers, Miss, Biggleswade ... ... ... 1
Queenborough, Mr., Boston ... ... ... 1
Rice, C. Esq., Boston ... ... ... 1
LIST OF SUBSCBIBEBS. Ill
Copies.
Ranyell, Mr., Boston
Ridlington, Mr., Boston
Richards, Mr., Boston
Rhodes, Mr., Boston ...
Rhodes, Mr. T., Boston
Ranson, Mr., Boston ...
Robinson, Mr., Boston
Rogers, Mr. W., Boston
Rogers, Mr., Boston ...
Rodgers, C, Esq., Sleaford
Rycroft, Mr. I., Hale
Spurr, Mr. G., Boston
Slator, Mr. T. jun., Boston
Stower, Mr., Boston ...
Selby, Mr., Boston
Stocks, Mr., Boston ...
Snaith, Frederick, Esq.
Snaith, Frank, Esq. ... ... ...
Snaith, Mr. P., Boston
Small, Mr. J. H., Boston
Simonds, Mr. W., Boston
Stennett, Mr., Boston...
Storr, Mr. W., Boston
Skinner, Mr. J., Boston
Skinner, Mr., Boston ...
South, Mr., Boston
Spencer, Mr., Boston ...
Smiths, Messrs., Boston ... ... ... 19
Stainton, Mr. W., Boston
Sharpe, Mr., Donington
Spencer, Miss, London
Spencer, Mr. T., Sleaford
Scholey, Mr., Metheringham ...
Simpson, Mr., Heckington
Taylor, Messrs. ... ... ... ... 12
112 LIST OF STJBSCJaiBEES.
Copies.
Thomas, J. H., Esq., Boston ... ... ... 4
Tomlinson, J., Esq., Boston, U.S. ... ... 6
Tomlin, A., Esq., Heckington ...
Thornhill, Mr., Lincoln
Trevitt, Mr., Boston ...
Universities...
Wells, Mr. J., Boston
Wells, Mr., Boston ...
Willoughby, Mr., Boston
Wighton, Mr., Boston
Waite, Mr., Boston ...
Wright, Mr., Boston ...
Williamson, Mr., Boston
Willson, Mr., Boston ...
Weston, Mr., Boston ...
Whitworth, Mr., Boston
Wray, Mr., Boston
Wood, Mr., Boston
Wingate, Mr., Hareby
Williams, Mr., Sleaford
Weston, Mr. T. F., Sleaford ...
Young, Mr. W. H., Boston
Young, Mr. G., Boston
Young, Mr. W., Boston
Young, Dr., Boston ...
York, G., Esq., Boston
Yeatman, C, Esq., Boston
This List comprises only my private Subscribers,
exclusive of those secured by my respective agents.
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