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 
 
 .. • 
 
 •• • 
 
 ... 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. 
 
 BOSTON : JOHN MOETON, MARKET PLACE.
 
 AVORKS PRINTED AND PUBLISHED 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN MORTON, 
 
 MARKET PLACE, BOSTON. 
 
 LINCOLNSHIRE CHURCHES. 
 
 A DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE 
 CHURCHES OF THE DIVISION OF HOLLAND. 
 
 WITH UPWARDS OF SEVENTY PLATES. 
 
 Comprising, besides the general views, numerous Details, 
 Ground-plans, Crosses, "Windows, &c. &c. 
 
 In 1 vol., ito, X'3 3s. ; 8vo, 31s. Ud. 
 
 BOSTON CHURCH. 
 
 A DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF ST. 
 BOTOLPH'S CHURCH, BOSTON. 
 
 WITH THIRTEEN LITHOGRAPHED PLATES. 
 
 In 1 vol., 8vo, 5s.
 
 Published annually, price 6d. 
 
 MORTON'S LINCOLNSHIRE ALMANACK 
 AND DIARY 
 
 Is published Annually, in October. 
 The Calendar is printed in a fine large type. 
 
 IT COMPEISES A DIAEY FOK MEMORANDUMS FOR EVERY DAY 
 IN THE YEAR ; 
 
 LOCAL HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS ; 
 
 DIRECTORY OF BOSTON ; 
 
 COPY OF HEAD-STONE AND TOMB INSCRIPTIONS ; 
 
 TIDE TABLES ; LINCOLNSHIRE CHARITIES ; LISTS OF EMINENT 
 
 FARMERS AND GRAZIERS ; COUNTY FAIRS, ETC. ETC. 
 
 PKINTED AND PUBLISHED ANNUALLY 
 
 BY 
 
 J. MORTON, 
 
 PRINTER AND BOOKSELLER, BOSTCN.
 
 Just published, price Is. 
 
 MORTON'S ABRIDGMENT OF THE LOCAL 
 GOVERNMENT ACT, 1858. 
 
 ADAPTED TO COUNTRY PARISHES. 
 
 Edited by E. WATMOUGH. 
 
 This Act supersedes the present system of Parochial 
 management with respect to the Highways, Sanitary Mea- 
 sures, <£•€.; and provides the means of Lighting and Sewerage 
 for those parishes wherein its provisions may be adopted. 
 
 The necessary steps for the adoption and carrying out of 
 the Act are clearly detailed in plain and inlelhgible language. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 Printed and Published by John Morton, Stamp Office, 
 
 Market Place. 
 
 London: 
 
 SiMPKiN, Makshall, & Co., Stationers' Hall Court. 
 
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 Just published. 
 A NEW AND SUPERB PORTEAIT 
 
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 THE RIGHT REV. JOHN JACKSON, D.D., 
 LORD BISHOP OF LINCOLN. 
 
 Finely engraved in Mezzotinto by one of the most eminent 
 Artists of the day. 
 
 PRICES. 
 
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 Prints 110 
 
 Proofs Ill 6 
 
 Proofs before Letters 2 2 
 
 BOSTON: 
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 LINCOLN CATHEDRAL, 1750. 
 
 A FINE OLD VIEW FEOM THE KORTH-WEST, SHOWING THE 
 SPIBES ON THE WEST TOWERS. 
 
 By VIVARES. 
 
 Published in 1750. 
 
 Size of Plate, 25 inches by 30 inches. 
 Price 10s. 6d. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 JOHN MORTON, PRINTSELLER, BOSTON.
 
 LOUTH CHURCH, 
 
 A MAGNIFICENT SOUTH-WEST VIEW. 
 Etched by HOWLETT, and Engraved by WILLIAMSON. 
 
 Size of Plate, 16 inches by 20 inches. 
 
 Price 5s. 
 
 SPILSBY CHURCH. 
 
 AN ORIGINAL LITHOGRAPHED SOUTH-WEST VIEW. 
 
 Size of Plate 15 inches by 18 inches. 
 Prices, 3s. (Jd. plain; 5s. coloured. 
 
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 VIEWS AND GROUND PLANS, ANCIENT AND MODERN, IN 
 GREAT VARIETY. 
 
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 SUBJECTS. 
 
 CALCULATED TO ENLIGHTEN THE MIND, AND TO FURNISH MATERIALS 
 FOR THINKING. 
 
 Collected during a period of Fifty Years by a 
 Septuagenarian. 
 
 Price 2d. 
 
 BOSTON: 
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 ERRATA. 
 
 Cuntents, page 3'3, " Submarine Telegraph" is by mistake 
 
 printed for " Military Ode." 
 Note omitted, page 35, " This is a simile of Longfellow's 
 
 ' Sunrise on the Hills.' "
 
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