THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES » IAPPINI * 1-rtK HEM [NISCENCES OF A PLOUGHMAN. t court no honour, seek no fame, Which is too oft a gilded uame ; 1 try to live in peace and love, \n hope through love to I"' approved^ BISHOP AUCKLAND; PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR BY K.CALVKKT 1846. til COXTKN'I- Reflections on the Seaisbns I On visiting Tynemouth Castle 10 On Happiness ..13 Advice to a Young Friend 1 f On visiting Low Hall Farm 15 On the Reform Bill 21 Departure of the Old Year, and the Entry of a New one "2? Reflections on Sunderland Moor 25 On a Hare running across a path eatly in the Morning .'!' I On Pity, and Reflections on Life 31 Edward and Eliza's walk by the Sen, OB a Moonlight Evening during twilight 33 Pride 38 On Man 10 On Bishop Auckland 13 Mary's Thoughts 46 On Thunder. and Lightning 11 On Friendship 19 * » PR. A/Rs IV. On the Fall of Binchester Hall 51 On a Fly in a Cream Hot 5a Reflections and a Dream... 54 On a Bee in November 56 Middleton-one-row 5T On Love.. 60 On Religion 6 1 A Hymn 62 The Mind 63 A Walk 64 On Learning ».64 858206 - 9 REFLECTIONS ON THK SEASONS, AND THEIR VARIOUS EMPLOYMENTS. SPRING. Hail lovely spring, and thy soft breezes haill Let every creature hail thy soft advance : O praise the author great, that sits above This nether earth, and makes these beauties rise Praise him hill and dale, and ye flowery plains, And the soft winds that breathe his love, praise him ! For me, not least, not last, may I be first To magnify his name, and sing his praise. How grand, how lovely those flowers appear. When in spring's livery they are dressed ; Yet oft at eve' the winter loud doth whistle Through the trees, and maims the little strangers : But the lovely sun, at morn, throws his beams In winter's face, and bids him to retreat : Then like a friend succours his loved flowers, Fills up their silken cups with spring's soft dew, And in his love warms their tender fibres. 2 The husbandman, not loth to act his part, Now puts the plough, the harrow, and the spade In requisition, to follow nature In design, and forward it's completion : The plough-hoy whistles as he trudges on, And the soaring lark is in accordance : Whilst the reviving air doth brace the nerves And makes the blood within more freely run. How pleasant 'tis to walk in spring's mild eve, Cpon the margin of a river clear, To see the lambs at play, and flora in her Regal state, decked out in garments lovely : To see the swallow flitting o'er the wave, And fishes sporting in the silver stream. The cuckoo in the vale proclaims thy love, And all combine to welcome thy import. There must be something in mild spring, that is Beyond our ken ! it thaws the hard frost of Fnbelief, turns up the soil of the mind, Deposits the seeds of thought, then leaves to Reflection and study, the office to Protect and mature the small infant plant : And may it's kindly fruits in us produce Roth love and faith, kind charity and truth. O had I but one single quill, Pluck d from Thompson's downy wing, I then my voice would raise. And soar to yonder orbs of light. That's ever singing in their flight, Their great Creator's praise. 3 SUMMER. Now summer in majestic power does come, In grandeur and magnificence it comes : Light is it's canopy and heat it's throne, And thunder acts as herald to it's fame '. All nature hears the tidings and obey. It penetrates the hardened rocks, and bids The waves be still ! the centre of the earth Pervades, and tells the juice within the vine To flow, and the grape delicious grow. So immeasurable are the effects, That reason is in dark amazement lost. The tender grass beneath my feet, and the Soft murmur ot the rill melodious, Much like the music of the spheres that charm The charmed, but wherefore charmed perceive not Thus all combine to heighten the gay scene. The cattle nip the herbage of the green, And yon shady oak is oft their shelter : But when assailed by the gadflies sting, They hoist their tails and scamper round the plain. The flocks and shepherd in the shade recline. To catch the gentle breeze propitious, But soon the flocks must to the brook repair, To wash before the shearing: when the day Appointed comes, the shearer with importance Whets his shears, then draws them one by one For the ordeal ; yet before the shearers They are dumb, though deprived of covering : 4 But when set loose, what a lamentation '. The mother knows her young, and her voice it Still doth know, but for herself it knows not : But prompted by necessity it does Advance, and at the last its dam doth know, Then man converts the fleece to his own use , And at second hand in grandeur wears it ; But when the batcher with his cart appears. To demand the firstling of the flock, what A cry of woe! The mothers' instinct then pot On the garb of reason: she bleats around, The lamb cries ma ! but no reprievs is found ; They bind it's tender limbs, and in the cart They throw it, then drive away; the mothei Follows after, but harshly bid to stay, The gate is shut and they part for ever : O man ! what thousands die to gratify, And satisfy your voratious maws. The meadows now look brown, and the mower Is called forth : he whets his scythe, and with His muscular arm hews its beauties down ; The rakers next in doublets light appear, They throw it round, and with the aid of sun And wind, they make it into cocks lovely, For what in beauty can exceed, or yet In smell excel, a new made field of hay!' But now the harvest, for "the sickle fit, Requires the master's strict attention ; The reapers forth do come in rank and file. 5 Each by her he loves the best, in pairs they Stand, whilst the rural jest doth swiftly fly, Each handful swells the sheaf, whilst the master Views the bounty that doth bring addition To his bounteous store, with cheerfulness. The gleaners now assemble, to discuss the Knotty point, who must commissioned be To gain the master's kind consent, to pick The very refuse of those harvest fields, Which is oft with harsh reluctance granted : ! what a pity to withold from woe, The bounty that in part belongs to all, But when power and interest combine, Poor charity neglected lags behind. But harvest now is done, and the last sheaf, With its white flag at top, rides triumphant. To note a victory without blood. The barrel now is tapp'd, and the spic'd cake made And jollity sits round the peaceful board ; No distinction for the night, each may laugh And sing, and all is harmony within, And each in merry glee salutes his lass. Scorn not, ye giddy few who boast your high Descent, the humble joys of the lowly For tho' your blood cheerly in its channels Run, the froth of pride and dissappointed Ambition, oft clog the current, and cause Unbridled woes, the humble seldom know. Yes, he that made the head formed the feet, The mind, and all the different members, 6 Tu work in unison, not one tor one Alone, but for the happiness of all, As the divine contriver did intend! AUTUMN. NOW with its fruits and flowers Autumn comes, To gather the remains of summers' store! The slothful hogs into the woods are sent I o collect and champ the prickle acorns — And the gabbling geese unto the stubble, To cackle and to pick what may remain. The ricks well covered, and the fences ma rhe cattle to fresh fog are sent, to make The fat ones fatter; and the esculent Roots are gathered in for winter's use. rhe fallows now require strict attention. The ploughman draws the furrow with great skill. Aud the spider in the rear, spins its thread And weaves its web so fine and curious, That the fine gauze upon the tair ones breast Ls not more fine, nor yet more curious. But the seed is now consigned to earth, There for to die, and there to live, and beai Its blossoms far above it, if the great Ruler of the seasons wills the increase. Now the shooter and his faithful dog range The stubble field, and nero leads the wax . But soon he snuffs the gale! he onward creeps Oft looking back to apprize his master. » Whilst the poor hen with her brood, basking by An old hedge side, faintly hears a rustling. rhey rise, the shot is gone, they wheel, they fall, Thus for man's transgression they must die. Now next appears the hunter's motley train. • )t' horses, dogs, and men. the hushes they Do heat and try the vale, when from a tuft Poor puss leaps out, then gates fly open, hedges Crack, and ditches they are sprung, and over Hill and dale they run: faint and weary she Still waddles on, but no reprieve can find ; They still gain upon her, she gives a screech And what can be more touching to the mind Or feeling, than to hear the feeble cry Of weakness in distress: 1 and then she dii - Then what rejoicing about a little, When the dead hollow and the horns shrill sound Proclaim her dead; the horses neigh, men shout Dogs howl, and all in joy's disorder lost: And wbv-for not rejoice? be that kills his Thousands is applauded, and must he who Kills a little hare, be duh'd a villain '.' No', if false honour did not it approve, Stern justice would demand its right of him, Who to ambitions throne makes thousands Fall, then with profane lips thanks God for it. 8 WINTER. Now rude winter does assail us ! we hear His arctic drum, a*nd general frost rides In the fore van, his army in the rear ; At night he comes, demands his billet, and, Bids the fort surrender; then in the breach He takes stand, and bears despotic sway, Then sends his legions forth, to scatter Hail and snow, wind and rain, storms & tempests, O'er a guilty land. How changed the scene ! The sun looks forthwith caution^ as if half Afraid to interfere on man's behalf, Against the fierce elements of heaven. O ! husbandmen, look to your fleecy charge, In this inclement season, lest they do Perish in the drift ; employ your faithful Dog, to inform you where they may be found. The grunting hog for shelter runs into The fold, whilst the fowls of heaven do feel The dire effects of Winter's surly blast. The cattle low around and ask their stalls, Fodder them with hay, so that they may eat, May sleep and chew their cuds till the morning; The flocks do bleat, but little shelter find, But nature and nature s Lord for ever kind, Have bestowed on them a covering. Now night her sable curtain throws around, And darkness does obscure the light of day ; The owl doth make her moan unto the winds, * * 9 And the dolourous sound of the house dog Rides harshly along the frost bitten air, And absolute winter reigns o'er the whole. Thus summer and winter, autumn and spring, All do unite and to one centre tend, For the general good of the great whole, As was intended by their maker's will, For it was he that did ordain them as They are ! He made the earth and mortal man. To walk upon it, gave winter its snows, And summer its heat ; who holds the seasons In his hand and rules the mighty spheres, and Bade the sun and moon to run their courses. In other realms, unknown, unseen by us, He whirls the wheel according to his will, And in mercy does what he sees fitting. had 1 but one spark of fire, I'd string the harp and tune the lyre, And his just praise would sing; Who rules the seasons as they roll, Who holds the balance of the whole. The great eternal king. 10 ON VISITING TYNEMOUTH CASTLE, " The wreck of greatness and the fall of power, with patronage retained." And are those few delapidated towers all that remain of thee ? and art thou fallen from thy hiorh estate to one so poor and mean? when greatness falls, then pity feels as we do feel for thee — thy bastions strong, thy massy portals, and thy pon- derous gates gone down and level with the dust ; yet still enough remains to tell what thou hast been. — How oft has thy dark shadow dimm'd the wave in the mild summers' eve, when the pale moon unveil 'd her face, and shone upon thy towers! How oft have lovers sat beneath thy shade, and talked or dreamed of bliss, propitious bliss and joys that were to come? while revelry within proclaims discordant din, when they rehearsed their deeds of war, of bat- tles, sieges, fire and death; and how the foe was overcome by their superior skill, and thy great aid to save when help was most in need. But thou art now laid low. Erst on thy site, where now I stand thousands here have stood, and thousands here may stand, that soon must be as low as thou. Nay, what can here endure, when rocks and stones give way 11 I o the scythe of time, for on a rock thou founded wast, a rock thou seem'st to be. Oft has thy sen- tinal from yonder height espied the coming foe, and marked his quick advance : then would the brazen trumpet sound along thy massy walls, and call thy sons from sleep's repose to scenes of deadly fight, and with thy strength dispute his right, and vindicate their own. Yet shame to him who first did kill bis brother man ; and shame to him who thousands does destroy to gratify ambition's ire : but might too oft in war o'erleaps the bounds of right, while justice hangs her modest head to keep her from the sight, O ! the pride of the spirit and the thirst of cruel de- sire, ve throw man on the troubled sea of strife, and reason on the strand, for rude casuists to peck at. But no mean fort wert thou, but worthy of dispute, for on a promontary high washed by the river Tyne thou stood'st the strongest of the strong within the British Isle. And yon Cathedral in its ruins grand with steps and secret ways within its massy walls, shews the great zeal, or the pretended zeal, of those who worship God in outward form, more than in spirit meek ; but thou art now laid low. No more thv bells will sound along the shore on sabbath morn or eve: no more the j>ealing organ or the hymn of praise, be heard along thy sacred aisle- or friendly preacher more appear to teach the paths. of peace. Within yon circumscribed place where heaves the mould to give its inmates room, near yen 12 ■a", lies poor Tom Bowman brave — be was kilor bold, and free as he was bold, and kind as hi was tree ; and oft be braved von ocean wide, countered many a storm, till on bis way returning home an enemy appeared, which hailed and brought him too; he knew his foe, he knew his strength, nee here was vain, for death it was that did him hail, to die then was the word ; so Tom resigned bis soul to God, to death gave up his sword. Now all are still within thy walls: no voice or souud is heard, save the hoarse murmur of the waves below, or thy faint echo to the sea-gull's cry. Bu 1 must bid adieu to these bold scenes, the expanse of ocean, and the Tyne's majestic stream, and may some abler hand depict their beauties as they do deserve. Then fare ye well, ye noble heights, ye ancient towers, and prospects grand as mind can well conceive oi bold imagination paint ' and thou fair stream,and that throw the lead, or hoist the topmast you 1 say farewell. » » 13 ON H A P P I N E S S Hail' goddess, hail, bv many sought, b) Obtained! in what sequestered vale dost Thoureside? far from the busy scenes oi Busy men, thou surely lov'st to dwell, For tho pursued thou still retreat'st at their Advance, as if they were contageous. When on this earth thou wert first transplant Thou lived st with man, and man with thee: but the .Soil was barren and the climate cold, which Did impede th\ growth.. Yonth with her ally Anticipation did onward fly, thy Delicious bowers to find, but sage Experience proved them wrong, for where They sought thee thou wast not. Love did woo thee Jn her sylvan shades, and hope attended, But fear was in their train, betokening Distrust, which to thee did seem unseemly. Then wealth, power and state, put in their claim, For favour : hut truth threw up the veil, when Lo! the form of pride conspicuous shone. Then on high wing tjuick thou did st soar alott. And up to heaven's gate thou didst ascend. And there a parley and admittance crave hut thy errand known, thou straight didst enter. And there enthroned thou dost for ever dwell, And wln> would seek the here, must find rhee there. 14 ADVICE TO A YOUNG FRIEND. Still keep your siller in your pouch, 1 )r know to whom you lend : Be bound for none! for that's a stretch You cannot comprehend. U is not found to be secure To build upon the sand ; The sinootbest wave thlt we can rind Is oft far from the land. Trust not too much unto soft words, For they are only wind, But a drop of ink makes men think. After they have signed. Vet give a plack unto a friend, To help him on the way : For nature mild in love is kind, To give is to obey : For he that gave to all, did give. In love he formed the plan, That in abundance we sbould g Unto our brother man ! * # 15 ON VISITING LOW HALL FARM, SAINT HELEN'S AUCKLAND. HERE on this mound 1 stand, where I have oftei stood before, and many a time with buoyant spirits. gay, and free from worldly care I've walked yon flowery mead, where violets fair did scent the ai; and waft their sweet perfume : but as the scenes of nature mild receive their colour from the mind, re- flections fill the breast, for joy and grief are both combined when former scenes arise. Many a time IVe thrown the silver eel from holes where cattle came to drink, when winter's frost had made yon lake like crystal to the eye ; and oft at other times I've seen the duck pursued by dogs upon its glassy surface, and oft she dived when near, and left them at a fault, till at the last they caught her by th< wing, and brought her to the shore, then they would tell what dog excell'd, how well he swam, how well he dived, and of what kind or breed. Many a time I've trudged by yonder wall unto the village school to learn my A. B. C. or what was worse, or quite as bad, the double rule of three. And there's my Father's House, where I from youth to manhood grew; oft I have seen him on yon hill returning from the fair, then would I run and say that he was near ; when the goodwife would 16 rim her hearth to welcome his return, and children ry to catch the friendly smile, when he with car* \mild press their ringers small, lest his rough touch should the soft charge offend, but he and they are now gone down with friends and kindred dear. He is a master good, a husband kind, a friend thai was sincere; but remembrance wakes and turns the past to pain, as clouds arise in ambient air and ti descend in rain. Many a time I've rode in sum- mer's morn or eve, along the margin of yon brook, to see that all was right, and oft I've drove the team ield, with as much glee as those that armies led, uid far less guile; for rural pleasures, rural joys, spring not from blood and strife, but nature mild i-r- tbe mind in acts that differ quite. How oft the fleecy charge did run to meet me morn and eve, to ask their humble dole, when Meat- us round they seem'd to say I was their steadfast friend, and when their vouug did grace the green, how they did skip and play, and each its mother's voice did know among the numerous throng, poor innocents, they little knew that they are bred, that they are fed for carnivourous man, or would they skip and pla Near yonder copse and towering tree, whose old itastic arms hang o'er the brook, beneath whose shade at noon I've oft reclined, while the soft brook did bubble by, and sootb'd my mind to peace, and IT what exceeds a peaceful mind and nature satisfied? In summers' morn with sickle keen the reapers forth did come, with many a gleaner in the rear to pick their scanty fare, then each by her he lov'd the best, the hours did glide away, and 'tho he took the rougher part, she was as kind as he ; and oft when unperceived, with hat awry, and head askance, she view'd his manly form ; and if he saw, he did deceive as though it were not so ; while I did follow in the wake, build up the shocks, and hear the village tale, how dear were eggs and butter too, or what cow then was dry. How oft in autumn's morn, the shooter and his pointer staunch did range the stubble field, and Caesar point the game; game which for man's diver- sion soon must die, he onward creeps till on the wing they rise, the shot is gone, they wheel, they fall. Then came the hunter's motley train of horses, dogs and men, they beat the bushes round, try the open plain and the stubble field, till from a tuft poor pussy sprang, then gates flew open, hedges cracked and ditches they were sprung ; e'er hill and dale they run, till far away she made a halt to take a little breath, but her pursuers were too near, she made a feeble leap, and took another path, and they o'er ran her, but the wary huntsman threw them round and her again pursued, till at the last her life she tlid resign to ravenous dogs, and cruel men did eat her ; but the master of the pack is now gone down , and to an earth is run, where all must run at last . yet thought recals his name, tor I his daughter did respect, and she was kind to me. With pleasure I have walked yon fields in spring's mild eve, and seen the new sown corn just springing up to view; the blackbird flying to his mate, to chaunt their evening lay, and the wild pigeons in the copse, cooing amourous love; the lark descending from his airy flight, his day's work done, but still singing as descending; and nature opening every bud, and every blade, with renovating life. This is nature in her best attire, and something more than chance directs it ; for instance, pluck a head of corn in bloom, rub the blossom off, then hold it by the stem within vour hands, and the blow will come again whil'st you hold it. But why should I digress? The sun hath set behind the hill, the lambs had ceased to play, and night her sable curtain thrown, to veil the face of day. Are these ideal pleasures or real delights P Or will the proud and vain sup- pose that bliss for them alone was made ? no the peacock in his plumage dressed may strut and think himself no fool, though fowl he be, yet the labouring bee doth cull its sweets, and is as blessed as he. Mock not, ye giddy few the simple joys of nature's sons, who never attempt Parnassus to ascend, or » » i'l court the tit j lil of Mars, but live for general use. and general good ; for a bold yeomanry is a nation's pride, the rich man's hope, and poor man's friend. Then fare ye well, ye youthful scenes, ye flowery plains, and purling rills, ye flocks and herds farewell, and may the lord of these domains in peace enjo\ these fruitful plains, again I say farewell ! One word more before I go ! yon circumscribed place, and its small church, with sentinal at top and iron tongue to call its neighbours home, demands a serious thought and solemn meditation, for there lie many friends, perhaps a foe ! if one there be, may the deed be blotted in the book of life, and may he be forgiven, as I do freely him forgive. Beneath von large blue stone lies the pastor of his flock : he taught, he preached, and led the way, and like the hen that pecks, her brood beneath her wings, he did exhort them to ebey. Within yon iron pales lies poor Sir John of Windlestone, he was a man of sterling worth, justice was bis aim, and charity his pilot. There lie the master and his man — the father and his son — the mother and her child — the lover and beloved — the rich, the poor, the base, the brave, in dust without distinction lie ; save some memorials scattered round to tell us what they were, and what we ourselves must be ; Yes, all! all must pass the stream of death, when the rough pilot pipes us forth, and tells us to em- 20 bark ; and happy he who anchors on the shore of bliss, and meets his friends in heaven. And you my friend, whoe'er you be, May I meet vou, and you meet, me In realms of perfect bli— . And there in unison combine, To sing the praise of him divine. Who ever was anrl is 21 OX THE REFORM BILL. BRITONS arise! without a pause. Defend your king and country's cause, Drag base corruption from iis den, And prove yourselves to be freemen. Elect the men who with real zeal, Will still defend the peoples weal ; Who will assist them in the cause, Against oppressions iron claws. King's should this own and this allow, The people's good must be theirs too ; When unison of mind appear, And heart and heart do beat sincere, Bold freedom then doth stand confess d, The brightest gem in England's crest. Despots and tyrants great and small, May totter long before they fall, But fall they must, as sure as we Espouse the cause of liberty ; The trumpet blow, unfurl the sail, Spread out the canvas, catch the gale, That nations roiind may hear and see, That Britons are and will be free. 22 ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE OLD YEAR, AND THE ENTRY OF A NEW ONE. And art thou gone thou flick ring year ? Thou source of joy, and hope, and fear, And shall we say adieu, To scenes gone by and passed away : Or must a sigh from us still stray, When we remember you i* As the billowy waves are toss'd, Till that with this is fairly lost, So are poor mortal's days. The silent nights that us surround, And nature's self proclaim aloud, That here we cannot stay. Yet tho yon firmament so blue, And yon bright orbs that twinkle through The moon's refulgent light, May fall to earth, and leave their spheres, Yet still there is a God that hears, Poor man who asks aright. And though our years may come and go, As clouds do rise, and streams do flow, We should remember this, 23 That he who takes can give and say, From night arise to cloudless day. And soar aloft to bliss. But hark ! I hear a solemn sound. The whistling winds do cry aloud, A stranger doth appear ; He comes ! he comes ! in solemn state, The storms and tempests on him wait, It is another year. And may we hail it as a prize, With meekness may our praises rise, To him who is above. And may grim wars and all their train, And all the horrors wars contain, Be swallowed up in love. ! had 1 but one spark of fire, I'd string the harp, and tune the lyre, And his just praise would sing, Who rales the seasons a6 they roll, Who holds the balance of the whole, The great eternal King. Then may this year upon us smile, As fruitful showers enrich the soil, And make it to bring forth. May plenty still attend our isle, And grace divine upon us shine, While we are on this earth. 24 And as the sun declines in day, And shadows lengthen on the way, May our minds reach the sky. For young and old around us die, And why we live we know not why, Yet know that we must die. And as it is a firm decree, Let's hoist the sail of charity And scud before the gale, In hope at last the port to gain, Where love and truth the fort maintain, And mercy furls the sail. * 25 REFLECTIONS ON SUNDERLAND M R. Here on this Moor I muse upon the busy of busy men, and the surrounding scenes that o; to my view : these mighty waters of the deep, whose bosom heaves with active life, with ships and men returning from afar, and all the motley throiiL that saunter on the heath, where sailors, soldiers, widows, wives, together mix, aud lasses with their clothes to dry, do speck the green with white, which look like scattered flocks upon the mountains brou near yonder stepled dome, with sentinal at top and iron tongue that call its thousands- home, rests fi from toil Tom Anderson : he was generous, brave, and strong, he loved his lass for she was kind, and he as kind as she, he loved his glass, his pipe, his friend, for friendly still was he, and oft he braved yon ocean wide, encountered burning sands, and frozen seas, in hope of sweet reward, till on his way returning home, near to his native shore, the pilot death hove in full view, and brought Tom's vessel to, ransacked his hold, tore down his sails, and tow'd him into port ; mock not ye giddy few, the humble efforts of the hardy Tar, Tom was an honest man, and may be now in bli And yon bright orb of day, whose vivifying warmth the centre of the earth pervades, penetrates the harden'd xocks and makes the juice within the vine to flow, demands my admiration due ; for with its heat all nature rejoices, and by its light I view those scenes around. And can man say that this is chance that guides this huge machine, and regu- lates its motions ? Let us serious be, and think what we are now and what we soon must be, and what we may attain to. Have you never on a smmmer's eve, when seated on a grassy mound just lie close of day, found an impulse at your breasr that said, or seem'd to say man must be more than mortal ? else whence this reasoning thinking power That mounts the car of space, and far beyond the rth'e green cape, rides on the curtains of the sky, plays in the sunbeams of celestial day, and points to heaven ? Is this a unison of parts or rays of light, that emenates from fountains pure, that fructify the soil through which it runs, and gives poor man a foretaste of futurity ; say ye who best can tell, for we should sip at wisdom's fount with caution, lest we take more than our weak minds can well digest, and be like him that is by dubious ways perplexed, who quits the beaten path, and takes the open heath, rejoicing in the change, till all at once the tender turf ay, and quagmires yawn around him; and 2t then and not till then, he feels convinced the hard path is oft the safest road. Then let us weild the shield of faith to gaurd on our way, and make the love of Christ our only- stay ; that when we see him as he is he may conduct us to the portal gates of heaven, and say well don< my faithful friends, receive the promised bli^- prepared for you. And can a poor mortal hope that he maj attain? the hope alone is almost bliss, what must the blessing be ? yet still we linger on the barren shore of life, we love our ancient friends, our ancient trees; they grew up with our growth, and strength- ened with our strength, & by degrees familiar became and who e'er left his native soil, without one parting sigh, or retrospective glance o'er the warm precincts of his early days Poor nature still recoils ar change uncertain, as stomachs weak oft loathe the draught prepared for their relief; and still the mind flickers round its dwelling like rays of light upon the mountain's brow just at the close of day. Yet we must all commit our fragile barks upon the stygian pool, when the rough pilot pipes us forth and tells us to embark, and happy he who anchors on the promised shore of bliss, and meets his friends in heaven ; where neither sorrow, care, nor toil will interrupt his joys, nor fear of change his rest ; there 28 ompletion faith will cease to be, and love tran scendent warm the genial spring. There life an evergreen will grow in the fulfilling power of light refulgent. Then what are pomp, and state, and earthly power, compared to this? they are as drops, from surcharged clouds that fall into the brook beb d ride erect upon the stream, until the eddy whirls them round, and then they dissapear. Think what a spirit pure must feel, and in his r e rejoice, when passing through the spangled ,kii>s on high, he views the vain pursuits of those he left below. Oh! what a theme tor contempla; e, and serious meditation. Thou first great cause ineffable, To me incomprehensible, Who rules this mighty ball, Whose power extends from pole to j Who holds the balance of the whole, Protect me lest I fall. May peace and bread still grace my boar Or what thy bounty may afford, Or what thou may'st think best, Incline my mind while I am here, To give, forgive, and lend an ear. To those that are distress! » 29 And raayst thou Lord of earth and e Impart thy saving grace to m< Through Him that died for all, Aud make me hope that through hi* love, I may accepted be above, And hear the blessed call And you my friend whoe'er you be, May I meet you and you meet me, In realms of perfect bl And there in unison combine, To sing the praise of Him divine, Who over was and is. 30 ON A HARE RUNNING CROSS A PATH EARLY IN THE MORNING Why such haste poor pussy, why? does the fell ( J aze of man astound thee ? or hast thou been Pilfering at thy neighbours store this morn, And nibbled a few corns to satisfy Thy cravings? presumptions hare! thou know si Twas wrong, and therefore rlies from danger: but Hush thy doubtful fears ! I for one wjll not Harm thee. But thou perhaps art going for To meet thy friends in yon lonely vale, where Hares do oft assemble, and there relate Thy strange proceedings. Then go ! and with them Gambol, regardless of to-morrow's fate ; But beware a repetition of thy Rash adventure! remember that thy foes Are many, but thy real friends are few, Poor puss, thy lot is hard I must allow ; For when the hounds and horn assail thin Thy speed or lengthened course will not avail ; Nor thy weary limbs or palpitating Heart find commiseration. For tyrant Man pursues thee for his pleasure, and then Without reluctance eats thee for his food. :^l ON PITY, AND REFLECTIONS ON LIFE. Can the heart at ease relieve the troubled breast r meek-eyed pit y's aid, may soothe our woes, but whet the fort's assailed,her post too oft is found deserted. With hat awry and head askance, we view the >o;ir- ing lark, hut when a cloud doth intervene, we [< tier from our sight. So pity faintly sees the billow\ wave and gathering storm, or hears the sea boy s wail, while on a rock reclined, she rests secure : — Yet 'tis a heavenly spark [when given,] which tmienates from light divine, but repitition of woes doth blunt the downy edge of pity's wing an< makes her aid but feeble. Then resignation is our only stay, and hope our only cable, — that he wht- rules the waves of life mil steer us through the stom^ for though his ways mysterious seem, we this plait: truth should own, that of ourselves we little knn rude autumn's gale doth whistle through their dwelling, which quivers to the blast; and ih -c, doth nip their slender stay, their sole support, rill down at last they drop into the brook below, where their delusions end in dissolution. And is ir case less hard than ours? or are they much I< ml ? they live, and move, and die, and what more wp ? — unless our reason tend to more substantial bliss, no better will betide us. That we must die as well as they It is a firm decree, By Him whose fiat so ordained, -av we let it » » 33 As clouds arise, and rains descend Into the troubled bourns ; So man doth rise, he lives, and dies. And to the dust returns. Yet he who bade the grass to grow, To flourish or decay; Can say to us, return from du>r. To life's eternalday. EDWARD AND ELIZA'S WALK BY THE SKA. ON A MOONLIGHT EVENING DURING TWILIGHT ELIZA. These ceaseless waves that foam ami I Yon orb that mounts the sky. Shew God's infinity to man, And man's impurity. EDWARD. But where a mind so nearly pure, A form so very fair, Stands by my side and sweetly talks I think God's spirit there. 34 For if there is a bliss on earth, That is by Him refined, It is where Love's returned by love, In unison of mind, That sea may beat these solid rocks, — Yon moon mav wax and wane: — Man must 'ere long his life resign, — But love will still remain. From God tbe airy sprite did come, Call'd love on earth to live ; And 'tis decreed tbat God be will. From earth that sprite receive. ELIZA. Thou talk'st prophetic, gentle swain. But storms do beat repress ; The thorns around tbe roses grow, And their small fibres press, Then so far and no furthur go, rive not against thy fate : For love is here it is most clear, In an imperfect state. Its risings cheer, its falls depress, Clouds oft impede its flight, Compare it with thyself thou may'st, To morning, noon, and night. Yon violet on the grass-grown beath. Rose with the blushing morn, » » 35 It stood the sun's refulgent heat, But night destroyed its form. So man and love in morning's bloom, Anticipates much bliss, But dissapointment chills their noon, And evening stops their breath, Edward. Yet there's a love if here matured, From earth it will arise, "Will wing its way through nether air, Ascend, and mount the skies. That love is love ineffable ; By love that love was given, And by that love, if rise at all, We rise from earth to heaven. And he that did that love bestow, Bade us love each other; Then if you say that love is vain, You must reason smother. Eliza. But see the birds on yonder spray, Do chant their evening lay, And twilight with its sable hue, Denotes the parting day. So we must break this sweet commune, And part with parting day, I when me meet again I hope, We shall have more to say. rheir second meeting. Eliza. iod morning sir, we meet again, Upon this sea-girt shore, Where sun and moon each other a To make those billows roar. Edward. Yon noble orb's refulgent light, The breeze of mom declare, That God's kind love descends to man, Through earth and ambient air, Then why should man that bliss forego ? Or substitute dull care ? Let us then love while here we move, And plight to part no more. Eliza. Thou may'st be right for ought I know, What's right can ne'er be wrong. But northern gales do sometimes shade, The morning's brightest sun. 3T Edward. But why neglect the present breeze i Or fear the coming gale, Let love and truth our anchor be, And God will fill our sail. Both. My hearth and hand I then resign, To thee my only love, And in return I give thee minr, M v witness is above. But, Oh! the wayward ways of fate, Let none presume to scan. The ways of providence divine, Are not the ways of man. The clouds around look'dbig with rain. With thunder from afar, A forked flash of lightning came, And struck my charming fair. 1 took her to the sward just by, When faintly she did cry, O Edward ! Edward ! fare thee well, My soul ascends the sky. Then.. my God, what I did feel, While on the sward she lav ; 38 Her stretched out arms, her sunken < Her spirit flit away. And tbou, trail man, whoe'er thou be, Some pity show tome, And feel my woe, as thouwonld'st have. Another feel for thee. I'M IDE. i ) PRIDE ! thou subtle enemy to man, What havoc thou dost make upon this earth, As thou wert wont in heaven, and tho' thou art, An inmate in man's breast, how few will own That thou to them belongs, but unperceived Thou steal' st upon man's better sense, and mak'st His very dreams tormenting. Nay, thou Subtle art, thou unperceived infect* And mars our very peace, when not suspected. But when thy younger brother, dire revenge, Doth stalk abroad, in all his ruthless power, How terrible his frown ! how dark his brow ! Tis like the deadly nightshades' humid touch, Whose breath contaminates the air around, And makes a wilderness where verdure grew, It petrifies the springs of life, and makes 39 The mind of man a chaos in him ; till A r the last frenzy pale takes up the rein, And drives poor reason from the field ; he then Doth feel its baneful influence in him, And nothing short of blood will him suffice : It is done, and then comes retribution. Thus dies the mail, who was not fit to live. And what is worse, was qnite unfit to die. Then what's this creature man, that arrogates Superior sway, and half believes himself Immortal! or; that dangerous thing called Power, which has been delegated to Him ? there must be different grades of men I'm willing to allow, as well as there Are dnferenl musses; the daisy grows Beneath the thistle's shade ; but shall the man In power compel his very brother man To stand aghast or lick the dust he treads ? No! no, tell him the spirit in him ill Becomes him, and tell him this, he is but A man, and but one link in that great chain, Which holds the vessel to the mooring, and If one link gives way, she drives to sea, where K ocks and storms are ready to receive her. Thou who didst make yon troubled sea, and hung This earth in air, thou formed man erect To walk upon it, gave him mind and power,] Of thought, resembling him who made him, yet 40 So complex his body and his mind, that Pride and hope, desire and fear commix, that Like the wave on troubled ocean toss'd, They make a discord to his peace within; Enlighten thou our wayward minds, that we May see the littleness of pride, and how The fiend revenge becomes us ! and may we With humility confess, that we are But a part in that great scheme, which binds our Nature with our fate, yet leaves the mind to Range. Then may we ponder, and this wonder Know, that of all wonders we have below, Man's self is here the greatest mystery. ON MAN- Max ! thou vain presumptious son of earth, Tho' varnished o'er with brief authority, And call'st thyself the lord of earth and sea, Thou art as impotent as thou art vain ! A wonderful machine thou surely art. The work of Him whose works are wonderful, And for his pleasure perfect in degree : To shine, to glitter, or to fade and die ; But to thyself thou art a my6ter) » 41 Look at the automaton part of man, View the various springs that impel it, Then say if thou can'st, dislocate its parts, Clean and oil, and then resuscitate them, No, no ! with all thy mathematic skill, Thou canst not tell us why our fingers move ! At thy creation the great architect, Did hlow into thy frame the breath of life, A gift that well became the doner, But gave no power to comprehend it. Then why vain man, attempt to wind the threads, Of the minds clew ? the end thou cannot find, Nor the begining, how, nor why, nor whence, It comes, nor how it travels unknown space, Kides on the clouds and hovers in the air. Then swift as lightning from the thunder-cloud. It doth again return from whence it did proceed, Is this connatural ? or is it not ? In thy desire of knowledge wisdom find, Then weigh in even scales what thy weak mind Can in part contain, for too much wisdom Is like food, excess brings indigestion ; The epicure surfeits by repletion. Thus man is man according to design. And no more ! his mind and understanding, Fit for his station here, as intended ; And tho' imperfect, he must here remain, 42 Yet there's a spark within him, that whispers, He is more than matter gross : and if that Little spark thats given be his talent, It well behoves him to improve it here ; That he elsewhere may hear the joyful sound, Well done ! receive thy just reward in bliss. Is it not possible that our senses, May ascend to other globes more perfect P Where the inhabitants posses sensations, Of which we cannot form the least idea, It is likewise possible that our senses, May augment and expand as they ascend, And with mixing with other superior Senses, may again ascend to another Globe, [which St. John may allude to in his Second death] which may be designed for The occupancy of refined sensesj Permitted there in unison to live, And be the final attainment of all. Be that as it may, there is a power Above, to us incomprehensible! Who governs the affairs of mortal men : Who turns their projects into foolishness, Their schemes into folly, and their wisdom Into air : then kindly turns the pivot To His will, and does what he sees fitting. » ■■/'' 1- j H g J E f E2 1= --_- h i fc € \ - 43 ON BISHOP AUCKLAND. AUCKLAND! how grand are thy scenes, and pleasant places, when the sun in the east breaks the mist of the morning, and tips with his beams the tops of the trees, when he mounts his chariot and rides in the sky, giving light and heat to his children below ! The flowers of the field waft his praise, the hardened rock and the knotted oak acknowledge his power, and the gale of the morning exhaleth his love! Man goeth forth to his labour, and the smoke ascends from his cottage fire, curling its blue waves o'er the pine! with scrip o'er his shoulder, and mat- tock in hand, he brushes the dew from the blossoms on the heath as he trudges along : at noon he opens his wallet, and partakes of his fare, and tho' his victuals be coarse his appetite it is good, and he eats with thankfulness : and the sweet scented flowers that surround him serve for his desert ! then like his lord he takes his nap, and the sweet singing birds on the branches lull him to rest — then he rises from slumber, reneweth his labour till the sun from the west shines oblique o'er the hill, then he shoulders his wallet which now is much lighter, and o'er the 44 green sward bends his way, the lark from on high on a tuft lights heside him, the lambs from the hil- locks around him do play, and his Kate trims her hearth to receive him. Then view yon noble bridge that doth bestride the wave, that for four hundred forty and five years has braved the storms and tempests ; from it you once beheld a mansion grand, (now gone down) called V wtoncap, it was the grace of yonder hill, so lovely ! but frenzy seized its lord, who had two live wives i'. 1 a dead one, got a son, and shot himself within months. O mind! what art thou? who can de- thee ? or thou content, where shall we find the when in such a mansion, with its flowery hills and [ant {ilains, thou wouldst not deign to dwell. Yonder rises Rinchester to the view, where Dane with Roman face to face did stand in bloody strife . disputing what they neither had a right to, many remains of ramparts strong, sudatory and other emblems of antiquity has appeared, the armour in thy hall* shew they were not for pigmies made. — But lovely are thy groves and hanging woods, the cuckoo in the vale proclaims the spring, the birds sing on the branches ! Rut thou Auckland ! how grand is thy site, ou a hill yet in a vale, with purling rills and rivers pure running by thy side ; how beau- • Here a noble House did stand, but Bishop Mildert razed it to the ground, April, 1835. » » 45 liful thv park in the evening, its rocks and its vallies in blue, when the hare and the rabbit sport on tbe green sward, and the deer trips the lawn to taste the soft stream, and thy castle so grand, more grand does appear when the moon in her grandeur peeps o'er the hill! hutdoublv grand thou art when deck'd in the livery of spring ; the lambs sport on thy plains, the gudgeon and trout glide through thy soft streams, and Flora by sipping the dew of the eveu- ing more lovely in morning appear ! thy flocks nip the herbage of spring, and thv cattle graze on the high hills ; the blan 1 bre< ze of the morning pervade thy bowers, and sing among thy myrtles. But ! how lovely art thou O Auckland ! when the eun tips thv towers in the evening and throws their lengthened shadows through the trees ; when the eye perceives objects afar off that the meridian sun in his splendour had eclipsed. But ! when the tempests of heaven assail thee ! when the shafts of the lightning and the bolts of the thunder fly o'er thy head ! when the north winds seal up thy streams, and lay thy fields low in the drift, when the sun hides his face and the trees are decked out in then- robes of pure white, yet then the cherub above ex- tendeth his mercv, and defendeth the suckling from harm ; whilst thy hare 1 y ones laugh at the whirlwind and play in the storm. But the virulence of its 46 rage is assuaged, the cattle are housed for the night thy sons in their dwellings assemble round the blue blaze of the fire, and the young touch the harp with delight ; but dense is the mist in thy vallies, the stars in their orbs do look wan ! the moon in a cloud veils her face and all is still ! MARY'S THOUGHTS. [SUNDERLAND.*] As 1 from my window one dull dreary evening Did view the rough billows, far, far on the sea ; I thought on my Edward, his hardships and daring, Far, far from his country, and far, far from me. I drew down the curtain, renewed the embers, For dulness gave zest to the dulness in me, I thought on temptations, disorders, distempers, On the land or the ocean, that's far, far from me. 1 sat with my head on my hand half reclining, And thought on our parting when he said to me ( ) think on that captain that's ever presiding, Who bids the rough billows become a smooth 6ea. » » 47 This thought did console me, I thought I could slumber, But thoughts are deceptive, so they proved to me, My mind like the tempest, still onward did wander, From ocean to tempest, from land unto thee. I lay on my couch, still in hopes yet to conquer, The anxious forebodings that rose up in me. When a voice did say softly, Mary dont wonder, It is Edward, your Edward, returned from the sea. ON THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. July nth., 1837. At Hartlepool. How awful the lightnings quick dash, That illumines the vale all around, Which tells us the thunder is nigh, And the rooks they re-echo the sound. As Mary from market did come, And trip'd o'er the mead as she sung, A flash of forked lightning came. And stop'd both her speed and her song. Her lover, gay Edward, was uigb, He beheld, and in sorrow was duniii The lightning and thunder to him, vVete as tho the last dav it were come. Then what must that fearful dav be, When the trumpet will sound loud and shrill. To call forth the sons of this earth, Before him who creates and can kill. But Mary's meek spirit is fled, And her body co-.isigned to the grave, Remember we then while we mav, That then' is above who can save. \ et oft in the stillness of eve, When the bright moon enlighten* the sKv. Poor Edward will then drop a tear, • >n the grave where his Mary doth lie. -19 ON FRIENDSHIP Hail! generous Friendship hail! thou south si -.t, Weary breast, and mak'st the haughty monarch Bow, roots up the suds of strife, and bid'st the Warrior sheath his implements of war. Tis thou that blunt'st the cares of life and mak si The rugged stream more smooth and placid run, ( )' when sincere and pure, thou'rt like the dews Of Heaven that fructify the soil through Which they run. Then and only then, thy Pure links man to man for general weal; And pride gives place to harmony within. It then behoves man here to be a friend That on this earth he perchance may find one; For blessedis he who finds one friend on Earth, And doubly blessed is He whose conscience Whispers peace, through faith in one in Hea^ But when the fountain' is impure avoid The baneful stream, tbo' smooth its surface: 'tis Like the quagmire on an even plain, who Deceptive smoothness flatters to destroy. Then Oh, beware the leaven! for friendship '* Dough is sometimes salted with deception. 50 'Tis like the wind that from four quarters blows, Revolves from heat to co-Id as seasons change, Makes court to power, truckles for a place Then on high wing bids former friends adieu. But mark the sequel ! our hero mounts the Ladder of preferment and thinks himself No chaff; then swaggers and looks big, yet most Subservient when power leads the way, For who can keep his equilibrium When the trumpet fame sweetly strikes ihe ear? Then pride that busy ruthless thing takes him By the hand and leads him on to ruin; He now contemns the little and maligns The great, and a cabal rise around him Envy wings the quiver, and interest Points the dart, and then he falls ! falls to rise No more, for like the smitten deer his friends Forsake him in his utmost need. Then he Cries vain man! on a reed I rose on a Bramble fell : wherefore brave the wave,to rind Another shore, when the voyage life is Longest made at home? or why did I quit The substance for that empty thing called fame Which to day is, and to-morrow is no more, Much like the meteor that attracts the t ye For a moment bright, in a moment dies. » m » 51 ON THE FALL OF BINCHESTER HALL Sir Christopher Wren did plan Thy rooms both great and small Where Newton, Locke, and worthies more Did banquet in thy hall: But grandeur thou must bow thy head! Antiquity lie low. All for the whim of one great man That must his power show. Then thou art gone! no more will shine The moon upon thy form: Thy absence we may still regret But thou wilt ne'er return Yet like soft dreams in summer' e morn Or shadows from the tree, Jn retrospective vision we, Think we thy beauties see. Too near the precints of the great Was thy mishap to be Ah! luckless hour when Mildart did Issue out his decree ; 52 Yet thy domains he does retain With all their lovely bowers: M e grasps the nut throws by the shell The kernel does devour. P. ut let him not presume too much Tho lordling he may be, Th" lightning sometimes smites the oak And lets the shrub go free » 53 ON A FLY IN A CREAM POT. ! Temptation ! for mother Eve thou wast Too strong, and so thou wast for this poor fly. JJut shall I see thee perish ? No ! thou, or 1 mistake didst share my humble board through Winter's blasts, aud pleased each morn I was To see thee; then we familiar grew, Thou without fear would'st sit upon my sleeve, And peck the crumbs that a kind hand did Send for all. Then go! and flap thy tender Wings in the sun's ray; its warmth perhaps will Reanimate thee; when thou again wilt hail The breath of morn, and buzz thy maker's pr.us. For tho' thou'rt a fly, and hast little Blood within thee, yet He that formed man Did with the same materials form thee, Little flv. Then let not man contemn what He calls little, lest little he be found. 54 REFLECTIONS AND A DREAM. •Sitting on a mound, one eve, near a river's side, I viewed the turbid stream and faintly heard its mur- muring, which was congenial to my mind. I gazed around, and viewed kind nature in her evening dress and she was lovely: when lo; a little fawn ran o'er the plain, and a hound in full pursuit. I thought of man that fell, and entailed so many woes upon this nether earth; I sighed; and thought what must that being be, that bids these flowers rise, these brooks to murmur, and yon great luminary to shine upon us and light us on our way. Just then a bird flew past me, and perched upon the highest bough of yon tall tree; it was a dove of finest plumage, but looked sickly, and hung its wing; the fowlers aim had been too true it fell ! and I did pity the pour bird that suffered for no fault. Again I thought of man the tyrant and the Lord of earth and sea, who kills in the forest, the sea, and the air, then joins to kill his brother men whom he never saw, and then without a blush vainly calls it honour. I viewed the waters of the deep, and they were smooth and placid. The oblique rays of the setting snn had tipped the curling surface, which made it look most lovely. — The birds had sung their evening lay, the lambs had » » 55 ceased to play, and night her sable curtain drawn to veil the face of day. I hastily rose, and to m\ cottage bent mv way my old arm chair wan standing by the fire, I sat upon it, the cricket chirped behind the hearth, the kitten it did play, and all did seem as before, but still my mind did wander like vessels in a storm upon the ocean tossed; when a ray of light shone in my breast, and faith stood at the portal. — I rose and went to rest. In my slumber I had a dream. I thought it night yet all looked beautiful to view. The moon was peeping o'er the hill in majestic grandeur, and the stars in splendour shone like diamonds around her brow. The tenants ot the heath lay stretch'd in sleep profound, for their wants were few, and then- desires less. The nightin. gale sent forth her notes, and echo repeated the song. The tender grass, just tipped with night's soft dew, like silver did appear. The ignis fatuas did play on the moss grown heath, and the glowworm enlightend the hedge. Thus beauty' with delusion did play upon the sense. But finest flowers soonest fade; just then I heard or thought I heard, a voice to say, ari-e< and to thy labour go, toil and sweat, that thou may'st eat for a brief time, and then return unto thy native dust ! 1 hastily rose ; and lo! it was a dream. ,*>8 ON A BEE IN NOVEMBER Thou foolish insect, why here stray, On such a cold November day, And frost severe at eve Bright was the sun that shone this mora ! And thon might's* think it May return d. Lf so, thou art deceived Then go and seek thy straw built , Live on the honey thou hast got Cull'd from the flow'ry mead ! And on thy labour freely feed, Vttd sip contentment with thy m That's all, that thou can'st need. But when the birds begin to sing, With other harbingers of Bpr.bg, Thou then may'st rise on wing And buzz with birds of sweetest note, Extend thy wing and ope thy throat, In praise of nature's king. And may frail man from thee this learn To trim his lamp with oil to burn, When he his Lord doth meet; And may he there acceptance find, Enjoy the honey of the mind And live on manna sweet! * 51? MIDDLETON-ONE-ROW. Here on thy banks I muse ! around me is the Pleasing landscape, and beneath runs thy Smooth stream I how lovely and sublime, and how Exquisite and various nature does Appear, when spring is in her livery dressed, For ev'ry tree and ev'ry shrub, with all The harmony of birds and humming bees, The tender grass beneath my feet, and the Soft murmer of thy stream, are emblems Of unerring power, which we cannot describe ; For surely there is a something in frail man That mocks the power of speech, for he doth Feel what he cannot explain : ! had I But the power to tell what I at times Do feel, when present scenes like these recall The retrospective vision of the Mind, when youth and spring did play their frolick, And sanguine hope heaved at the breast. O ! thou incomprehensible ! can poor Mortals scan thy ways ? or shall presumptive Boldness question thy decree? yon moon In grandeur clad, like sentinel true to His post, her nightly round doth take, and all The planets in their turn, proclaim to man, To erring man, that he is but a part Of that great scheme which he must ever here v -Inure, but never, never, comprehend'' Frail man should know how little he does know,. But in follies maze he strays, in search of What he cannot here attain; as the bird Of passage roves from scene to scene, in hopes Some clime to find that's more congenial; But barren is the soil, the climate cold, So back it doth retrace its weary flight. Thus the mind of man, ever on the wing, Flies o'er waters smooth, and flowery plains. Till disappointment dire, chills the pursuit ; Vet with aspirations pure hope be It up, and through a clearer air doth sail, Quits the charms of Earth and points to Heaven But night's curtain does appear, which warns me To depart : so I must say adieu to These enchanting scenes ; to yon noble house I pou the hill, and to yon hanging wood Beneath, with its groves, its springs, and well Swept walks, and to those baths so neat, so clean And complete, where many come to taste their Salubrious spring, and yon village on The hill, where health for pleasure, and desease For health assemble ; and thou fair stream that Runs so clear, with thy daisy banks so sweet, And their mossy carpet soft, wrought in nature - Loom, by a superior hand, my praise \ freely give, and say to all farewell.. * 59 Perhaps no more I shall those scenes survey, < h yet their aromatic sweets inhale, Hut what of that ? you still will bud as fresh, And bloom as fair, as you have hither done : But if right informed a day will come When grandeur will no longer you avail ! The foliage and the grove, yon noble House And all it may contain, and thou fair stream Will parched be with celestial tire. The sulphurious matter that this Earth Contains will burn its own materials, And those hardend rocks will vanish like the Dew before the morning son? yott moon will Rise no more to light this nether Earth, but With its tributary orbs around, shaM From their centers tumble, nay ! the great globe Itself no more will on its axis turn, And nature will be loosend from her bonds, And chaos shall resume its pitchy reign : Yet man alone will from those ruins spring, A flower perpetual ! no more shall Die nor live on Earth, but will take his flight In air to meet his kindred spirit there : And when recognized and united Will up to heaven's gate then quick ascend, There to hear the doom that will await them: Here let us pause ! for there we must appear i! 50 But let us not give way unto despair f Along our path hope will sprinkle flowers, And faith will gentlv point die way to bliss. Lord! of power and might ineffable! May we admire, adore, and praise thy name, And dread its profanation ! with meekness Let us ask our daily bread, or what thou May'st think right to give ; and if little We receive, may we still share that Tittle With those that are needful ? and may we still Those errors hide that we in others see, That thou in merry, Lord, may'st cancel ours. ! give us grace temptation for to shun. And he unto thy will subservient : That we at last thy kingdom pure may $n