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 RHYMES 
 AT RANDOM, 
 
 BY A 
 
 GALLCVIDIAN PLOUGHMAN.
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 RHYMES 
 
 AT RANDOM, 
 
 BY A 
 
 GALLOVIDIAN PLOUGHMAN. 
 
 "All hail! ye mighty masters of the lay, 
 
 Nature's true sons, the friends of man aud truth, 
 Whose song, sublimely sweet, serenely gay, 
 
 Amus'd my chiMhcod, and inform'd my youth; 
 O let your spirit still my bosom sooth, 
 
 Inspire my dreams, and my wild wanderings guide : 
 Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth ; 
 
 For well I know, whei sver ye reside, 
 There harmony, and peace, and innocence abide." 
 
 PRINTED AND Pt 
 BY 
 
 COOK AND BROWN, i .SELLERS, 
 
 HIGH STREET, COLCHEvTER. 
 
 MDCCCX.XXVni.
 
 pp. 
 
 Ak>£r>3 
 
 TO 
 
 THE HONEST AND MERITORIOUS 
 
 ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, 
 
 TH ESE R H YM ES 
 
 ARE INSCRIBED 
 
 BY HIS ADMIRING COUNTRYMAN, 
 
 THE 
 
 GALLO VIDIAN PLOUGHMAN. 
 
 Colchester, April 5th, 1838. 
 
 OvbfOnJ-^/^
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 
 
 " With gold and gems if Chilian mountains glow ; 
 
 If bleak and ban-en Scotia's hills arise ; 
 There plague and poison, lust and rapine grow; 
 Here peaceful are the vales, and pure the skies, 
 And freedom fires the soul, and sparkles in the eyes." 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Allan, a bard, unknown to fame 
 Approaches you, not without shame, 
 And begs, that you will take a look 
 Into his, rather doubtful, book. 
 
 2. 
 
 When feudal Barons held the sway, 
 And dwelt in buildings, rude and grey, 
 The minstrel was caress'd, by all, 
 From cottage low, to lordly hall : 
 
 B
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 3. 
 
 But clays of chivalry are fled, 
 Enchanted castles, and the dread 
 Of goblin, giant, dwarf, and ghost, 
 Is, to imagination lost ; 
 
 4. 
 
 Yet love remains; and hopes, and fears, 
 
 With all the grandeur nature wears, 
 
 As lasting, as our parent earth, 
 
 And young, as when Jove gave them birth ' 
 
 5. 
 
 Of these I sing, — on these I muse, 
 And should ' The Cunningham' peruse, 
 And laud my unassuming strain, 
 I have not, " Random Rhym'd" in vain.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE 
 Dr. THOMAS BROWN. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Ill can T spare thee, Thomas Brown ! 
 Altho' thou hast receiv'd a crown 
 
 Of glory in the skies, 
 My stubborn heart cannot submit ; 
 To what Jehovah saw most fit ; 
 
 Hence are my tearful eyes. 
 
 2. 
 
 Like to a suckling plant am I, 
 That lifted up its head on high, 
 
 Supported by the oak : — 
 But ah ! the tempest issued forth ; 
 And laid the Monarch on the earth 
 
 With one gigantic stroke. 
 
 3. 
 
 Alas ! how shall I stand alone ? 
 My every stay, save heaven, is gone ; 
 
 And moulders 'neath the sod, 
 E'en hope has ceas'd to flap her wing, 
 Or tales of future joys to bring, 
 
 To ease affliction's rod.
 
 8 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 When, in my early plough-boy days, 
 Thou didst bestow the mead of praise 
 
 Upon my Random Rhymes : 
 An honour quite enough to sprain ; 
 The movement of my giddy brain, 
 
 That crazy is at times. 
 
 5. 
 
 Philosophy has lost, in thee 
 An ornament — and poesy 
 
 An honour'd worthy son ; 
 The poor, a friend — the rich a guide, 
 Who taught them what in to take pride ; 
 
 *And what to hate and shun. 
 
 6. 
 
 Thou, dear depaarted, Thomas Brown ! 
 When years are fled, and ages flown, 
 
 Engrav'd shall be thy name 
 Among that scientific band; 
 Who rais'd our native, rugged land 
 
 To honour, wealth, and fame. 
 
 * Dr. BROWN filled the Professor's Chair of moral philosophy 
 in the University of Edinburgh, with great credit to himself, and 
 benefit to the public.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM, 9 
 
 TO MY SCHOOLMASTER. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Farewell ! much respected master, 
 Fate forbids my staying here, 
 
 Sad indeed, is my disaster, 
 I must leave my country dear. 
 
 2. 
 
 Scotia's dear unto my bosom ! 
 
 In my heart her name is writ ; 
 Like the lily, may she blossom, 
 
 Chief 'mong nations may she sit. 
 
 3. 
 
 Tho' the great Atlantic ocean, 
 
 Soon shall roll 'tween her and me; 
 
 Yet, in sweet imagination, 
 Her aspiring hills I'll see ;
 
 10 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 Where the seal of independence, 
 
 Was affix'd by mighty Jove ; 
 Where old *Trenmore's brave descendants 
 
 Free, as Boreal Tempests, rove ! 
 
 5. 
 
 May that freedom still be handed, 
 
 From the father to the son, 
 Till the orb of days' commanded, 
 
 In his course no more to run. 
 
 6. 
 
 Whilst the patriotic spirit 
 
 Of a Wallace, swells our veins, 
 
 Foreigners shall ne'er inherit, 
 Caledonia's wide domains ! 
 
 Farewell! companions of my childhood, 
 Dear you are unto my breast, 
 
 Since we first met, in the wild-wood, 
 Searching for the linnet's nest. 
 
 : Trenmore, an old Scottish King, grandfather to Ossian.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 1 1 
 
 8. 
 
 Those were days surcharg'd with pleasure, 
 Days whose memory claims a tear, 
 
 Days, when neither fame nor treasure, 
 Caus'd me either hope or fear. 
 
 9. 
 
 Once again, respected Tutor, 
 
 Once again a long adieu — 
 When I look, into the future, 
 
 Rugged is the road I view. 
 
 10. 
 
 But when on, I weary wander, 
 Friendless and without a guide, 
 
 On the happy days I'll ponder, 
 Spent about your fire-side
 
 12 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE OLD EMIGRANT. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Some twenty years of life I spent, 
 Where Niagara's waters foam : — 
 
 At length, with wealth to give content, 
 I sought my early rural home. 
 
 2. 
 
 The field was found, but not the cot, 
 Where first I saw the light of day ; 
 
 Green corn was waving on the spot, 
 And all my trees were cut away ; 
 
 3. 
 
 Trees ! that I planted, when a boy, 
 
 And prun'd with my dear mother's shears, 
 
 I curs'd the hands that could destroy, 
 Such monuments of happy years 
 
 I 
 
 I saunter'd to the village street, 
 But saw no faces that I knew ; 
 
 No friendly welcome did me greet,- 
 So to the house of God I flew ;
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 13 
 
 5. 
 
 And there upon a stone portray 'd 
 My honoured parents name I read, 
 
 I knelt upon the grave and pray'd 
 To be included with the dead. 
 
 6. 
 
 I bent my steps straight to the Cree; 
 
 E'en here the hand of time was seen ; 
 The stream still ran towards the sea, 
 
 But had destroy'd the village green : 
 
 7. 
 
 That green on which I us'd to play, 
 When life and love to me were young; 
 
 Where first I tried the poets lay, 
 And in the praise of Laura sung. 
 
 8. 
 
 I turn'd my face unto the west, 
 
 And soon Montreal arose in view : — 
 
 Mong early scenes I could not rest, 
 Where every thing to me was new
 
 14 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 Ladies ! gentle, sweet, and fair, 
 In whom all worth is blended ; 
 
 By angels, pretty as you are, 
 May you still be defended : 
 
 2. 
 
 Spirits dark, can never take, 
 The form of lovely woman ; 
 
 For she in beauty, grace, and make, 
 Appears quite superhuman. 
 
 3. 
 
 In childhood largely we partake, 
 
 Of her endearing kisses ; 
 I'd be a baby, for her sake, 
 
 And live in her embraces. 
 
 4. 
 
 In boyhood, manhood, and old age, 
 She cheers the heart, when grieving ; 
 
 And every day some council sage, 
 She never fails in giving.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 16 
 
 5. 
 
 When these fitful scenes of life, 
 
 Poor man can take no pride in ; 
 How happy he who has a wife, 
 
 Or daughter to confide in !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 16 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 ]. 
 
 There are three miles across the moor ; 
 
 And floods rage fiercely, at the ferry — 
 Dost thou not hear their sullen roar ? 
 
 Therefore with me, I beg thee tarry, 
 2. 
 • Was heard the shriek of water sprite ; 
 
 The canopy of heav'n is dreary , 
 So turn thee in, rest for the night, 
 
 Unless thou art of living weary.' 
 
 3. 
 
 ' The raven croak'd and flapp'd his wing, 
 When he had perch'd upon the rock ; 
 
 An omen that ne'er fails to bring, 
 Disastrous news to mortal folk.' 
 
 4. 
 
 ' And there were strains of minstrelsy, 
 Heard in the glen at close of eve. ; 
 
 Sure sign, if right I prophecy. 
 
 Some one, this night will find a grave.'
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 17 
 
 • Then tempt not providence, dear youth, 
 Proceed no further on thy road, — 
 
 I've seventy winters seen in troth ; 
 But never saw a ni^ht so bad.' 
 
 '.-.■ 
 
 6. 
 
 ' But haste extreme, my progress beai> , 
 That thou mayst live, and live again 
 
 Twice seventy, and an hundred years, 
 Ere such distress comes to thy ken.' 
 
 7. 
 
 • Behold a youth, despair has drove, 
 
 To brave the moors, and floods of Yarrow 
 
 And should I fail, the maid I love, 
 Must wed my foe upon the morrow.' 
 
 8. 
 
 ' She waits me, on the other side, — 
 
 Noiv, Father wouldst thou bid me tarry 
 
 The moor shall not us long divide, 
 
 Nor, yet, the raging, ruthless ferry !' 
 c
 
 18 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 9. 
 
 His hands, to heaven, the aged spread ; 
 
 And rais'd his eyes in fervent prayer ; 
 Oh ! God, ' be merciful,' he said ; 
 
 ' And this most hapless stranger spare :' 
 
 10. 
 
 Then from behind the door he took ; 
 
 (With looks that shew'd compassion strong) 
 His oft-tri'd ashen shepherd's crook ; 
 
 Saying, " with thee I'll go along." 
 
 11 
 
 ' It never shall be said that I 
 
 Allow 'd a stranger to depart ; 
 Among the melting snow to die, — 
 
 No, no, I never had the heart.' 1 
 
 12 
 
 ' For many years I've known the path, 
 
 That winds through the deep, dark morass ; 
 
 And 'tho' Heaven seems to be in wrath, 
 The dangerous way I'll try to trace.'
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. ]9 
 
 13 
 
 ' O father, bless'd be thy intent ! 
 
 I feel, now, quite secure from harms ; 
 Since God, has, thee, an angel sent. 
 
 To guide me to my lover's arms ; 
 
 14. 
 
 With wary steps they onward trod ; 
 
 And clear'd the moor, — but, now, alas ; 
 Before them rag'd the rapid flood ; 
 
 Nor would the boatman try to cross . 
 
 15. 
 
 ' Thy purse ! — no, no, I love my life ; 
 
 And would it not, thus cast away, 
 Besides, I have a loving wife 
 
 And babes ; who bless me every day.' 
 
 16. 
 
 Out peer'd the moon, and faintly shew'd 
 A form upon the further shore ; 
 
 'Twas Laura's self; who shriek'd aloud 
 " What keeps my love from coming o'er P"
 
 20 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 17. 
 
 A tear stole down the boatman's cheek ; 
 
 He sob'd, " I'll try to waft you over :" 
 His heart was full, he could not speak; 
 
 For he had been and v> as a lover. 
 
 18. 
 
 They launch'd the boat, into the stream ; 
 
 And manfully were ply'd their strokes : 
 But, ah ! huge sheels of ice there came; 
 
 And bore them down among the rocks, 
 
 19. 
 
 Poor Laura saw the fearful strife; 
 
 And headlong rush'd into the wave 
 Exclaiming, " Oh, my love, my life ! 
 
 I come, with thee, to find a grave." 
 
 20. 
 
 Thus perish'd the most lovely pair, 
 
 That ever grae'd the "braes o' Yarrow" 
 
 Those who would heaus asunder tear. 
 Will all their days have cause to sorrow
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 21 
 
 21. 
 
 This truth her sire, has sadly found, 
 His peace is gone, and gone for ever ; 
 
 He, daily, weeps his daughter drown'd ; 
 And her devoted, luckless lover. 
 
 c5.
 
 22 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE FISHERMAN'S WIFE. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 The night' is lowering, — not a stal- 
 ls seen in all the sky ; — 
 
 He said, he would not venture far, 
 The breakers heat so high ; 
 
 2. 
 
 And, yet, he comes not, — much I fear, 
 
 He's buried in the deep; 
 He never tarried so before, — 
 
 He knows that I shall weep. 
 
 3. 
 
 Tis ten o'clock, — fierce drives the spray, 
 
 The billows are in strife ; 
 Awake, poor child ! and let us pray, 
 
 For thy dear father's life. 
 
 4. 
 
 O God of mercy ! look, from Heaven, 
 
 On yonder slender bark; 
 That on the waves is tost and driven; 
 
 With all around so dark ;
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 23 
 
 5. 
 
 O bring her safely to the shore ; — 
 My husband to his home, 
 
 Him to my longing- arms restore ; 
 And we will bless thy name ! 
 
 6. 
 
 In trouble, Lord, we bend the knee, 
 Before thy awful throne ; 
 
 Oh ! calm the raging of the sea ; 
 Bring back to us our own. 
 
 He was so kind ! — but hark, a tread 
 
 Approaches to the door, 
 It is himself — most gracious God ! 
 
 We'll praise thee evermore. 

 
 24 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 AN ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS, 
 
 On hearing a preacher assert, that, his highness was 
 not in debt. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Most high ! and potent, sable king ; 
 Permit a little bard to sing ; 
 
 The greatness of thy state : 
 No prince there may with thee compare ; 
 For, Parson D g does declare ; 
 
 That thou art not in debt. 
 
 2. 
 
 Hence is thy power, and hence thy fame ; 
 For, sure, no king can say the same, 
 
 Without a gross deceit ; 
 Great men we all, too truly, know; 
 In cashing up, are rather slow, 
 
 And ever are in debt.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 25 
 
 3. 
 
 Yet, still the preacher did not well 
 To boast, about the funds of hell ; 
 
 For, now, with hearts elate; 
 Poor devils, will thee importune ; 
 Each day requiring some new boon, 
 
 To keep them out of debt. 
 
 4. 
 
 Oh ! that, my fortune was like thine ! 
 Oh ! did my desk, with sovereigns shine 
 
 I never more would fret ; 
 Not, that I \alue, a great store ; 
 But just enough, and nothing more, 
 
 To keep me out of debt. 
 
 5. 
 
 From debt, ye powers preserve us all ; 
 For mankind never, since the fall, 
 
 Endur'd so sad a fate 
 As thai of being dunn'd by those 
 Curs'd hinderers of all repose ; 
 
 That haunt us for a debt !
 
 26 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 EPISTLE, 
 
 TO MR. BLENCOWE, ON RETURNING HIM HOGG'S TALES. 
 
 My honored and respected friend, Blencowe, 
 
 The reason, I have kept your volumes so, 
 
 Is, that a luckless urchin made a blunder ; 
 
 And tore the covers of them both asunder 
 
 So, till a chance occur'd to trim and mend them 
 
 I thought it would not prudent be to send them : 
 
 Ah ! little knows, a bachelor, the strife ; 
 
 The aches and pains that wait on wedded life ; 
 
 First, comes the cares of infancy, and then, 
 
 As brats grow up to women, and to men, 
 
 They tear your books, and craze you with their 
 
 prattle ; 
 And what, with tops, and kites, and eke the rattle, 
 Small is the peace of the poor bards that marry ; 
 And so you seem to think, and wisely tarry.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 27 
 
 Now, to another subject let us turn ; 
 
 And, I would ask; how does the taper burn, 
 
 That animates the clay you bear about ? 
 
 I trust all care, and pain have got the rout 
 
 To march far from you, — may, each day, bring 
 
 forth 
 Some blessing, new, to every man of worth, 
 Such as my friend has ever prov'd to be — 
 Adieu, dear Sir, and kindly think of me. 
 
 P. S. When all is said about the married state, 
 I would not be without my bairns and mate 
 For all the world : — I swear there is no bliss 
 Like that of "wedded love," — George think of this 
 And find a partner — never stand for pelf 
 Man is a helpless mortal by himself.
 
 28 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO MISS P- 
 
 ON RECEIVING FROM HER LITTLE HAND A ROSE. 
 
 — OO — . 
 
 Accept my thanks my tiny maid, 
 For the dear present that you made 
 To me of a choice budding rose, 
 Meet emblem and type of those 
 That, like thyself, are innocent, 
 And pure as Eve, when first, she went, 
 To dwell in Eden's blissful bowers, 
 Among such sweet and lovely flowers. 
 
 When, time, matures thy pretty face ; 
 And, on it, we may woman trace, 
 May some lov'd object soothe thy woes ; 
 As I shall tend thy mossy rose.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 29 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF MISS P. 
 
 -oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Dear maiden ! thou didst never see 
 The days of love and misery, 
 (I mean of womanhood), 
 For, ere thy infant days were past, 
 Upon thee fell death's chilling blast, 
 That cannot be withstood. 
 
 2. 
 
 But thou wert good ! and sweet, and fair 
 As ought that swims, or floats in air, 
 
 Or walks upon the earth : 
 Hence Heav'n ! to spare thee many sighs, 
 Had stamp'd thee, tenant of the skies, 
 
 E'en from thy very birth.
 
 30 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 A TURKISH WAR SONG. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 ]. 
 
 The standard is hoisted ; at sight of whose folds, 
 No Musselman values the life that he holds ; 
 But warm, for the combat, his bosom does glow; 
 And he hurries away to encounter the foe. 
 
 2. 
 
 Down with the cross, and the crescent exalt ! — 
 Into your saddles brave Ottomans vault, 
 Who shall the force of your onset withstand, 
 When righting for Heav'n, and your dear father- 
 land ? 
 
 3. 
 Alia ! Alia ! we cry, — see our cimeters flash, 
 On the ranks of proud Russia we fearlessly dash, 
 No infidel sparing, whose foot has profand 
 The soil by the swords of our fathers obtain 'd. 
 
 4. 
 
 Charge on the coward, and base giaour slaves; 
 The fields of Wallachia will furnish them graves, 
 The Danube is studded, with carcases o'er, 
 And darkly polluted with Christian gore. 
 
 5. 
 
 Great's the reward, of the worthies who fall ; 
 First is their place, in the Prophet's proud hall, 
 Celestial Houries, whose charms never fade, 
 Shall cherish for ever the heroes who bled !
 
 KHYMES AT RANDOM. 31 
 
 THE BEREAVED HUSBAND 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 I saw the icy hand of death, 
 
 Across thy forehead, sweep ! 
 I saw thee gasp, in vain, for breath, 
 
 Whilst all around did weep, 
 Save I : no tears had I to shed, 
 When thou wert number' d with the dead. 
 
 2. 
 I kiss'd thy lips, yet ruby red ; 
 
 And gaz'd upon thy face, — 
 1 could not think, that thou hadst fled 
 
 So soon from my embrace ; 
 Scarce, twenty summers, hadst thou seen ; 
 And only mine twelve months hadst been. 
 
 3. 
 There is a luxury, in distress, 
 
 Felt through, the lapse of time, 
 Beyond, what poets can express, 
 
 With all the power of rhyme ; 
 So have I pass'd those tedious years, 
 And pleasure find in scalding tears. 
 
 4. 
 Dear spirit know ! (if spirits deign 
 
 To care for aught below) 
 That my sear'd heart is wholly thine; 
 
 And sighs, to be laid low, 
 Within that dark and narrow cell, 
 With her it long has lov'd so well.
 
 32 RHTMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE MAID OF ERIN. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 She is not happy ! — I have seen her crying — 
 
 Seen her fair bosom labouring, and sighing 
 
 Like to the crest, that curls on the deep, 
 
 When thunder rolls and winds their gambols keep. 
 
 She often is alone ; — nor does she seek 
 
 To mingle in the dance : — but is so meek, 
 
 And fair withal, that fancy tries in vain 
 
 To paint a form so lovely, in the train, 
 
 Of chaste Diana ; or the myrtle queen, 
 
 As Erin's charming daughter, young Cathleen. 
 
 Too soon I learn'd, the story of her woes, — 
 
 That they were many ; need I tell to those, 
 
 Who know the sad, distracted, abject state 
 
 Of poor unhappy Ireland ! — 'twas her fate 
 
 To lose her father in a tithing broil ; 
 
 And far, far from their dear, their native soil, ' 
 
 Her lover and her brother had been sent ; 
 
 I ask'd no more: — my tears would have their vent!
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 33 
 
 TO POLAND. 
 
 <: Land of the mighty ! can it he ? 
 That this is all remains of thee." 
 
 — 00 
 
 1. 
 
 Poland ! thy fields are wet with blood, 
 And there is not a limpid flood, 
 That winds, thy fertile meadows through ; 
 But has a tinge of crimson hue. 
 
 2. 
 Poland ! thou art Ioav indeed ! — 
 For no saviour, in thy need, 
 Came, thy noble sons, to save 
 From the chain or from the grave. 
 
 3. 
 
 Poland ! I have tears for thee ! — 
 Once, the birth-place of the free ; 
 Oft the barrier, that withstood 
 The fiery Moor and Arab rude. 
 
 4. 
 
 Poland ! once, thy daughters bright, 
 
 As stars that gem the face of night, 
 
 Sported in the summer sun ; 
 
 Sung of love and victories won. 
 
 d5
 
 34 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 Poland ! now, thy children cry 
 Loud for vengeance to the sky ; 
 Mercy, here, for them is none, 
 Blows respond to every groan. 
 
 6. 
 
 Source of Justice ! hear their prayer ; 
 Rescue them from wild despair, 
 Let their Tyrants feel the rod 
 Of an outrag'd, insulted God !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 3$ 
 
 A PRAYER. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1, 
 
 God of our Fathers ! thee we praise, 
 For all the blessings, thou hast sent, 
 
 To cheer the fleeting nights and days, 
 That to us thou hast kindly lent. 
 
 2. 
 
 High, over all, thou reign st supreme, 
 Time lays, on thee, no wasting hand ; 
 
 From age to age thou art the same, 
 Eternal is thy dread command 
 
 3. 
 
 Thy might, we read among the stars, 
 
 Thy goodness, nature tells aloud ; 
 Whether the robe of May, she wears, 
 
 Or wrapp'd is, in a winter cloud ! 
 
 4. 
 
 Father ! to thee we lift our eyes 
 
 With trembling ! for we're cloth 'd in sin ; 
 Tn mercy listen to our sighs, 
 
 For sake of Jesus Christ, thy Son !
 
 36 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 INVOCATION TO SLEEP, 
 
 " To-day is my complaint bitter." 
 — 00 — 
 1. 
 
 Gentle slumber, rest awhile 
 On these wakeful eyes of mine ; 
 
 Sorrow, for a time beguile, 
 
 And I'll bless thy power divine. 
 
 2. 
 
 Stranger, hast thou been to me, 
 Many a long and weary night ! — 
 
 Return, I pray, and bring with thee, 
 To my aching heart delight. 
 
 3. 
 
 Dost thou linger in the cot, 
 
 Where the ploughman rests his limbs ; 
 Stray 'st thou, to the rural grot, 
 
 Where the shepherd tends his lambs ? 
 
 4. 
 
 Or, perhaps, thou lov'st to dwell, 
 Where is, heard the siren's voice ; 
 
 (Sweetly ton'd as any bell), 
 And the sons of men rejoice.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. ,'}7 
 
 5. 
 
 Tears and sighs, delight thee not, 
 
 Far from sorrow, thou dost flee ; 
 Else thou would'st not have forgot, 
 
 To shed thy balmy dew on me !
 
 38 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " We ne'er forget, tho' there we are forgot." 
 — oo 
 
 1. 
 
 * Cairnsmuir ! shall I ever see 
 
 Thy snow-clad top, thy frowning steeps ? 
 
 Thy memory still is dear to me ; 
 And in my bosom, never sleeps. 
 
 2. 
 
 By thee my infant days were spent : 
 On thee have wander'd many a mile ; 
 
 And climb'd thy rugged rocks, intent, 
 The keen-eyed eagle to' beguile ; 
 
 3. 
 
 From out the bosom of thy lake, 
 Decoy'd and borne the trout away ; 
 
 Pursu'd the fox through heath and brake ; 
 Seiz'd on the grouse as lawful prey ! 
 
 4 
 
 Near to thy base, the village school, 
 Stood in the happy days of yore, 
 
 Where I have often play'd the fool, 
 Neglecting every kind of lore : 
 
 * Cairnsmuir the highest mountain in Galloway, or the 
 west or south of Scotland, having an elevation of 3000 feet.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 39 
 
 4. 
 
 There blossom'd too, the hazel grove ! 
 
 And Creta's waters gurgl'd by, 
 Upon whose banks I us'd to rove ; 
 
 And first saw light in Woman's eye 
 
 5. 
 
 Dear, sainted maiden ! from above, 
 Dost thou behold the green retreat, 
 
 Where we were wont to talk of love ? 
 Regardless of our future fate. 
 
 6. 
 
 That fate, to me, has been severe, 
 I tread this earth, a useless thing ; 
 
 But thou art in a happy sphere, 
 In presence of our Heavenly King. 
 
 7. 
 
 Xo tears, now stain thy lovely cheek, 
 Those all are left for me to shed — 
 
 But, soon my heart will break and seek 
 A resting place among the dead !
 
 40 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO THE OWL OF St. BOTOLPH'S PRIORY, 
 COLCHESTER. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Companion of my lonely hours ! 
 When nights are dark, and fortune lowers ; 
 And busy thought has banish'd sleep, 
 With thee, I conversation keep. 
 
 2. 
 
 Whether thy notes, be those of love, 
 Or omens dire, sent from above, 
 To warn an erring, guilty race, 
 Some better way of life to trace ; 
 
 3. 
 
 Still I love thy voice to hear, 
 It is so pleasing, to mine ear ; 
 For it proclaims, with every tone, 
 (Tho' sleepless,) I am not alone. 
 
 4. 
 
 But, it may be, that thou dost moan ; 
 For friends that are for ever gone ; 
 And left thee, desolate and dark, 
 With not a guide, thy path to mark.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 41 
 
 5. 
 
 If so, poor thing ! thy fate is mine, 
 And well may I thy wailing join ; 
 For her, in whom I could confide, 
 The greedy grave, alas ! does hide. 
 
 6. 
 
 Bird of night ! I honor thee, 
 Because thou seem'st to feel for me : 
 And pay attention to my woes, 
 When all the world (save we) repose. 
 
 7. 
 
 O'er the margin of my brain, 
 Drowsiness begins to reign; 
 Sleep, around me, draws her spell, 
 Bird of darkness ! fare thee well.
 
 42 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO MY NATIVE COUNTRY. 
 
 " Dear is that land, to which his soul conforms, 
 And dear the hill, that lifts hirn to the storms ! " 
 
 — OO — 
 
 I. 
 
 O, there is a Land ! with her mountains and glens, 
 Her rivers, her lakes, her dark moorlands and fens, 
 More dear to my bosom, than aught that the Sun, 
 In the course of the year, throws his glances upon. 
 
 2. 
 
 Yet, bleak are her mountains, aspiring to heaven, 
 And the firs on their brows, by the lightning are riven ; 
 And o'er them, the tempest tornado-like sweeps, 
 Whilst floods rush and roar, down their terrific steeps- 
 
 3. 
 
 Now eddying and wheeling, they join in the dance — 
 Now boiling and bubbling, they onward advance ; 
 And burst o'er the line, with such gigantic force, 
 That rocks are torn up, and borne off in their course. 
 
 4. 
 
 Ah ! why do I love those dark mountainous scenes, 
 Far more than the beauties, that gem the wide plains ? 
 Why turn my affections, to this spot of earth ? 
 Because, to my fathers and me it gave birth !
 
 KHYMES AT RANDOM. 43 
 
 TO THE LADY OF G. R. Esq. 
 
 " But I'll remember thee, Glencairn ! 
 And all that thou hast done for me." 
 
 -OO- 
 
 Lady ! I once was rich and free ; 
 
 But tending song and minstrelsy 
 
 Far more than wealth : alas ! it took 
 
 Of me and mine, a parting look ; 
 
 And flew to some, more genial clime 
 
 Where ne'er was heard the sound of rhyme. 
 
 Lady ! I nothing have to give 
 
 For all thy kindness — but receive 
 
 The grateful feelings of a heart, 
 
 That prizes thee — just as thou art, 
 
 Liberal, benevolent, and kind 
 
 To all, in trouble, you can find : 
 
 And should St. Peter hear the prayer 
 
 Of a poor bard — his constant care 
 
 Will be to keep the choicest place 
 
 For thee ; when run thy mortal race ; — 
 
 But why talk of mortality, 
 
 Angels like thee can never die !
 
 44 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO HANNAH. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Sweetest maiden, that the sun 
 Casts his eagle eye, upon; — 
 Cause of all ruy hopes and fears, 
 Source of all my sighs and tears. 
 
 2. 
 
 Dost thou feel the tender flame, 
 As in days, gone by, the same ? 
 If so, let me once again, 
 To my heart thy bosom strain. 
 
 3. 
 
 When the Thrush has ceas'd his song ; 
 And the beetle hums along, 
 And the pheasant mounts the tree, 
 Dearest. I will come to thee. 
 
 4. 
 
 Try to steal one little hour, 
 When the ev'ning 'gins to lower, 
 Meet me, in the lonely glen, 
 Out of sight, and out of ken.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 4-5 
 
 5. 
 
 We will kiss, and swear anew 
 Ever more to love so true ; 
 Raptures shall our senses steal, 
 Such as lovers only feel. 
 
 6. 
 From the blue unclouded sky, 
 Luna shall behold our joy ; 
 Nor, shall she ever see a sight 
 Of bliss, to equal ours to-night. 
 
 K O
 
 46 RHYMES AT KAN-DOM 
 
 TO WOMAN. 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Lovely woman ! it is thine, 
 
 All goodness to posses 
 Let thy favours he but mine, 
 
 I want no higher bliss : 
 For who can greater joys conceive 
 Than those; which only thou canst give ! 
 
 2. 
 Would'st thou enquii re pity moulds, 
 
 Her sympathetic chain, 
 Sighing for all that she beholds. 
 
 In wretchedness and pain ; 
 Then search for woman's bosom fair, 
 Enquire : — and you'll rind it there. 
 
 3. 
 
 Dearest creature ! thou art given 
 Man's noblest friend to be, — 
 
 I wonder, who would live in Heaven, 
 If placed apart from thee ? 
 
 Annihilation be my fate, 
 
 If I, from thee, must separate !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 47 
 
 S O N G . 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 I'll toil, for thee my darling 1 ! 
 
 « 
 
 Through weather dark and sunnj ; 
 If thou wilt leave Dumpharling, 
 And come to Cairneywinny. 
 
 2. 
 
 I have a Cot, heside the hill . 
 
 Surrounded by the heather; 
 Where we may sip, of love, our fill ; 
 
 And herd our flocks together. 
 
 3. 
 
 I too, have got a purse of gold ; 
 
 (Fruit of a frugal life) 
 And in thy lap, it shall be told, 
 
 The day thou art my wife ; 
 
 4. 
 
 And when thou go'st to Wig ton fair, 
 A steed on thou shalt ride ; 
 
 fains will wonder, gaze and star< 
 And praise my bonny bride.
 
 48 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 In silken tartan, thou shalt shine ; 
 
 With costly, braided bonnet ; 
 On holydays, fair flowers I'll twine, 
 
 And place, with care, upon it; 
 
 6. 
 
 But what are flocks, or gold, or dress 
 To the love I bear thee, Patty ? — 
 
 Come to my arms and with a kiss, 
 Consent to wed thy Watty.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 49 
 
 THE DYING LOVER. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Oh ! bring me a branch of tlie Upas tn 
 And a wreath of the weeping willou : 
 
 Then offer a prayer, up to Heaven for me, 
 And lay my head low on the pillow ; 
 
 2. 
 
 There will I weep, till I fall in a sh 
 From which I shall never awaken ; 
 
 For death shall around me, so sweetly creep, 
 And relieve a poor heart that is broken. 
 
 3. 
 
 O Harry ! how could'st thou make love to me 
 Then leave me, in pain and sorrow ; 
 
 But, I am resign'd, and may'st thou happy be 
 For F shall be so on the morrov
 
 50 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 EPISTLE: 
 
 TO 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Another dull, and joyless week, 
 Has floated down the tide of time ; 
 
 Whilst I, in vain, for comfort seek, 
 E'en in the soothing sound of rhyme. 
 
 2. 
 
 My dearest girl ! since thee I left ; 
 
 I feel surrounded by a gloom, 
 As one, who is of hope bereft ; 
 
 And not a wish this side the tomb. 
 
 3. 
 
 Yet I, my love, have, hopes and fears ; 
 
 That reign alternate, in my breast, 
 This, Gorgon-like, his visage bares ; 
 
 That ministers to the distress'd ; 
 
 4 
 
 And bids me look towards the day, 
 That shall unite us, once again, 
 
 Through rugged life, to trudge away ; 
 With love, and happiness our oxvn.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 51 
 
 5. 
 
 With such companions, we will dare 
 The worst of ills, decreed by fate ;— 
 
 My Mar? 's smiles, will ever cheer, 
 Her own belov'd and loving mate ! 
 
 6. 
 
 Our household god, domestic peace, 
 Enthron'd on love shall e'er abide; 
 
 And own his home, and resting place, 
 Is by our cottage fire-side !
 
 52 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO MY COTTAGE. 
 
 — oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 My little Cot, among the trees, 
 Surrounded by the flowers; 
 
 My unassuming heart can please, 
 Far more than lofty towers ; 
 
 2. 
 
 For in my Cot, among the trees, 
 My Hannah looks divinely ; 
 
 And never did me plague, or tease, 
 But smiles on me benignly.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 53 
 
 TO HER- 
 
 — oo- 
 
 Whe.v the sovereign will of heaven, 
 To helpless man had woman given ; 
 Possess'd of form, so sweet and fair, 
 Endow'd with qualities so rare; 
 The angels all protested by 
 The light, that sparkl'd, in her eye, 
 That all their business, on the earth, 
 Would be so small and little worth ; 
 So henceforth, in poor man's affairs, 
 They would not meddle ; but his cares, 
 Leave to the fostering hands of her, 
 They knew was their superior! 
 Well might they, give up their trade ; 
 When the gods, sent to our aid, 
 
 A youthful Q , in whom we trace, 
 
 All that adorns the human race. 
 
 F
 
 54 RHYMES AT RANDOM, 
 
 TO MARY. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 It is too much, it is too much ! 
 
 That I must cross the sea ; 
 But yet, our wayward fate is such 
 
 That we must sever' cl be. 
 
 Alas ! that hearts, so prone to love, 
 Should e'er asunder beat, 
 
 To rankle, and corrode, and grieve, 
 Alone and desolate. 
 
 3. 
 
 Yet, time may come, when thou wilt change 
 
 Thy name, for that of wife ; 
 Whilst I, in other climates, range, 
 
 At peril of my life : 
 
 4. 
 
 Be as it may, O never think, 
 
 Or waste a sigh, on me ; 
 For to destruction's fearful brink, 
 
 Dear heart, I've hurried thee !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 55 
 
 5. 
 
 Sweet, turn away those eyes of blue, 
 
 Conceal that lovely face : 
 Oh l^fly, whenever I pursue, 
 
 And shun my fond embrace ; 
 
 6. 
 
 For not more fatal, is the sting 
 
 Of viper, or of snake ; — 
 I would not, ruin on thee bring, 
 
 Yet, cannot thee forsake !
 
 66 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE APPOINTMENT. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 Th is is the crag, and the oaken tree ; 
 
 And this is the bow'r, was appointed me ; 
 
 Here is the eddying and dimpling pool : — 
 
 But, the shout of the boys, who are out of school, 
 
 Tells me, that sable night is near, 
 
 And, yet, my Marion is not here. 
 
 The bat's on the wing ; and the howlet's moan 
 
 Falls on mine ear, an ill omen'd tone ; 
 
 The stars peer out, in the eastern sky ; 
 
 And yet, my Marion comes not nigh. 
 
 The moon has gilded the mountain height : 
 
 And the village has faded quite out of sight, 
 
 The ploughman home, has driven his team ; 
 
 And yet, dearest maiden, thou dost not come,
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 57 
 
 But, here will I wait, till the hour I die : 
 
 And here my remains shall unburied lie; 
 
 No power have I, to depart this spot ; 
 
 This dearly beloved, and sacred grot, 
 
 Where often, my Marion, has sworn to be true ; 
 
 And promis'd this night, those vows to renew. 
 
 The night's far spent, and the coming shower, 
 
 I can predict, by the sky's dark lower : — 
 
 But, I see a figure; than snow more white, 
 
 That can brighten the gloom of the darkest night, 
 
 'Tis herself ! Oh, my love, I have felt such alarms, 
 
 How could'st thou, thus tarry so long from my arms. 
 
 f5
 
 ,")> RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE DISCONSOLATE LOVER. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 When village maids are dancing, 
 Unscath'd by care or pain ; 
 
 And Sol's red rays are glancing, 
 Upon the western main ; 
 
 2. 
 
 I look upon the joyous throng. 
 
 And drop the briny tear ; 
 And listen, to their cheerful song, 
 
 With feelings of despair. 
 
 It was not so, in days gone by ; 
 
 For, then, with nimble feet, 
 The maid, for whom I heave a sigh, 
 
 Would run my steps to meet ; 
 
 And she was fair, as aught that grew, 
 Beneath the splendid sun ; 
 
 And pure, as infant drops of dew, 
 Ere he had on them shone.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 59 
 
 5. 
 
 But ah ! her beauty, and her worth, 
 
 Could not avert the blow, 
 That laid her in the silent earth, 
 
 And fill'd my heart with woe. 
 
 6. 
 
 I'm lonely on the shaven green ; 
 
 I'm lonely in the walk 
 O'er which, the limes have cast a screen; 
 
 And lovers meet to talk : 
 
 7. 
 
 I miss her, in the house of prayer, 
 What time I bend the knee ; — 
 
 She never fail'd in being there, 
 To kneel along with me. 
 
 8. 
 
 A stranger, to the joys of life, 
 
 I mourn my Anna lost ; 
 When song abounds, and mirth is rife, 
 
 I feel bereav'd the most !
 
 60 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE DEADLY SIN. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 Whoe'er has press'd dear woman's breast; 
 
 And won the heart, that throbs within, 
 Yet, afterwards, disturbs its rest, 
 
 Is guilty of a greater sin 
 Than that ; which Paradise us lost, 
 
 Or e'er offended righteous heaven ! 
 'Tis sin against the Holy Ghost ; 
 
 Which Christ says, " never is forgiven !"
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 61 
 
 ON READING OF THE BRAVERY, SHEWN BY THE 
 
 FRENCH AND ENGLISH BATTALION, 
 
 IN FRONT OF OPORTO. 
 — OO — 
 1. 
 
 Brave heroes ! how my spirits glow 
 To read, that foremost on the foe, 
 
 Your firm battalion broke ; 
 And, that the miserable slaves, 
 Who prop the thrones of despot knaves, 
 
 Could not sustain the shock. 
 
 2. 
 
 How should they ? for, in freedom's arm, 
 A power is stronger, than the storm ; 
 That sweeps Ben-Lommond o'er, 
 And when, this power, we see combin'd, 
 The heartless rulers of mankind 
 Must fall ; — to rise no more ! 
 
 3. 
 
 Pity it was (in former days,) 
 
 That France and England soil'd their bays, 
 
 By warring, to please others ; 
 Heroic men, should ever be, 
 Found in the ranks of liberty ; 
 
 For truly, they are brothers.
 
 62 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 Now, France and England, hand in hand, 
 Will slavery chase, from every land, 
 
 Where it has taken root ; 
 And man, God's image, shall arise, 
 And gaze upon his native skies, 
 
 No more to be a brute !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 63 
 
 THE ENGLISH SOLDIER IN FRANCE. 
 
 THIS IS NO FICTION. 
 
 -OO — 
 
 1. 
 
 I once, was as gay as the carroling lark, 
 
 And happy, as happy could be ; 
 I play'd and I sung, from the morning till dark ; 
 At length, in my bosom, love lighted a spark, 
 
 By a youth that came over the sea. 
 
 2. 
 He came to my father's, when I was young, 
 
 On the banks of the sunny Garrone ; 
 He woo'd, it is true, in a foreign tongue, 
 Yet my heart soon was his, and to him it clung ; 
 
 And the Priest, shortly made of us one. 
 
 3. 
 
 For him, I forsook the vine fields of France ; 
 
 From parents, and playmates did part; 
 Resolv'd in his fortunes, to take my chance, 
 For his eye had the sweetest and loveliest glance, 
 
 That ever distracted a heart ! 
 
 4 
 
 But, when to the coast of fair England we came, 
 
 My Harry forsook me and fled ; 
 And left me, a desolate stranger to roam ; 
 So I'll seek out my early and once happy home, 
 
 And mingle myself with the dead.
 
 64 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO LAURA. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Dearest Laura ! let us flee 
 
 To some island in the sea, 
 Far beyond the reach of those, 
 
 Who, our union, would oppose : 
 
 2. 
 
 There we'll sip, without control, 
 Out of love's delicious bowl ; 
 
 Free as tenants of the sky, 
 Nothing shall disturb our joy. 
 
 3. 
 
 We will wander with the sun, 
 Where the cooling waters run ; 
 
 And, upon the margin play, 
 Till the glowing solar ray 
 
 4. 
 
 Bids us seek, the mossy seat, 
 Perfum'd by every flower that's sweet, 
 
 'Neath the soothing, friendly screen 
 Of trees, that wear eternal green :
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 65 
 
 5. 
 
 Like to which, our love will last, 
 
 No rude storm, or wintry blast, 
 Shall destroy the sacred germ ; 
 
 That gives our lives so sweet a charm. 
 
 6. 
 
 Birds are singing, and around 
 
 All seems gay, and fairy ground ; 
 Such as Eden was, erewhile, 
 
 Satan did Mamma besruile : 
 
 7. 
 
 When the evening draws her shade, 
 
 Over lawn, and over glade, 
 Close entwin'd, we will repose ; 
 
 And laugh at all our former woes.
 
 £J(j RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO A WOULD-BE COMFORTER. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 O, talk not to me, of the days that are vanish 'd, 
 When youth, love and friendship, by me were 
 enjoy d ; 
 The fond recollection of which I have chevish'd, 
 Till this brittle fabric, seems nearly destroy'd. 
 
 2. 
 How little to hope for, O death hast thou left me ! 
 Since, in life's gay morn, thou has ta'en from mine 
 eyes ; 
 And, in one dread moment, for ever bereft me 
 Of Mary, the beauteous, the virtuous, the wise. 
 
 3. 
 My heart's core is sear'd, it is wither'd and blasted 
 
 As the heather shrub, that the flames havepass'd o'er; 
 The solace of friendship, or love would be wasted, 
 If iuvish'd on one, who can never love more. 
 
 4. 
 Away then, with comfort, — my portion is sorrow ; 
 And,0 would to heaven, that these tear-bedew'd 
 eyes, 
 May never behold the fair light of the morrow; 
 But sleep, in the tomb, where my dear Mary lies. 
 
 5. 
 Sweet spirit departed, us death shall not sever; 
 For in some fair region, where still it is May, 
 We meet shall again ; and by some placid river, 
 Live and love, through eternity s measureless day.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 67 
 
 THE BETROTHED. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 The day is set, the clay is set, 
 
 When I must gang awa; 
 And leave the scenes of childhood sweet ; 
 
 And more, my dear mamma. 
 
 The day is set, the day is set, 
 
 When I shall be a bride ; 
 And Donald, long- my darling pet, 
 
 Will lie down by my side. 
 
 3. 
 
 There was a time, when to have been, 
 
 Plac'd, but a week, apart 
 From my dear friends, and village green, 
 
 Had broken quite, my heart : 
 
 4. 
 
 But, now as things of little worth, 
 These tender lies are riven, 
 
 By him that's all to me on earth, 
 And all I wish in heaven !
 
 68 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO HANNAH. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Before corroding sorrow, 
 
 Had taught my heart to sigh ; 
 
 From the future, I could borrow, 
 Of joy, a large supply : 
 
 Imagination, ever, 
 
 Would point to golden days, 
 When we no more should sever ; 
 
 But bask in fortunes rays. 
 
 3. 
 
 Thus, hope will still deceive us ; 
 
 (Altho' without a tongue) 
 She'll flatter, then bereave us 
 
 Of that, to which we clung : 
 
 Ah ! happy they, who careless 
 Of the coming evil day, 
 
 Keep journeying onward, fearless 
 Of what may cross the way.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. f>9 
 
 5. 
 
 The heart, where feelings fine, love 
 
 Have fix'd their residence, 
 Has often cause to pine, love, 
 
 Annoy 'd by ignorance ; 
 
 6. 
 
 But, yet to grieve is idle ; 
 
 For, oftentimes, the ass ! 
 Will slip out of his bridle ; 
 
 And for a biped pass ! 
 
 7. 
 
 Yet, midst the mass of mankind ; 
 
 All worthless, as it seems, 
 How happy I, who can find 
 
 The being, that my dreams, 
 
 8. 
 
 In early life, had painted 
 
 With virtue's Heavenly hue ; — 
 
 I'll, therefore, live contented ; 
 That being love is you ! 
 
 g5
 
 70 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 FRENCH WAR SONG. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 March to the frontier ! 
 
 Guards of the nation ; 
 Cerfs in their mad career, 
 
 Threaten invasion ; 
 Tyrants, with savage hordes, 
 Brandish on high, their swords; 
 
 And raise the lance ; 
 But our Gallic Heroes, 
 Will teach these would-be Neroes ; 
 
 Should they advance; 
 That freedom's fair and stately tree, 
 Nurs'd in the arms of victory, 
 
 Shall flourish in France !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 71 
 
 Woe to the slave ; 
 
 That dares to uproot it, — 
 Rally, ye brave, 
 
 Close round about it ; 
 Arm, arm ye noble youth ; 
 Friends of equity, and truth 
 
 Wake, from your trance ; — 
 By Heaven ! and our colors three ; 
 The land, we live in, shall be free: — 
 
 No foreign steed shall prance : 
 With hostile rider, bent on spoil, 
 Upon the classic, sacred soil, 
 
 Of renovated France !
 
 72 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 In years gone by, when I was young, 
 How gaily pass'd the time ! 
 
 For, all the live-long day, I sung, 
 In bosom-soothing rhyme ; 
 
 The joys and woes, that mortals feel, 
 
 When Cupid pierces with his steel. 
 
 2. 
 
 When first, the heart begins to warm ; 
 
 And melt at beauty's shrine ; 
 And feels the nameless, mystic charm, 
 
 Around its fibres twine, 
 What happiness, we have in view ! 
 But ah ! alas, how rarely true. 
 
 3. 
 
 We often see the fondest heart, 
 By short possession, cloy'd, 
 
 The love, that beauty does impart, 
 Is fled, as soon's enjoy'd ; — 
 
 The fairest form, not long can bless, 
 
 Should it be curs'd with worthlessness.
 
 L RHYMES AT RANDOM. 73 
 
 4. 
 
 Oh ! virtue, ever Heavenly fair, 
 
 Continue, still, thine aid 
 To her I love, so very dear, 
 
 My own, my lovely maid ; 
 And daily, will I bow the knee, 
 And offer, heart-felt thanks to thee.
 
 74 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO JESSY. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 You ask me, sweet and lovely friend, 
 
 The reason why I'm sad ? 
 To you, I would not be unkind ; 
 
 For that, indeed, were bad ; 
 
 2. 
 
 But I have griefs, I would conceal, 
 From e'en thy friendly pry ; 
 
 And feelings were I to reveal, 
 Would moisten thy bright eye ! 
 
 3. 
 
 Then, seek no more, my cause of woe, 
 
 To fathom or divine ; — 
 It is enough for thee to know, 
 
 That I am wholly thine ; 
 
 4. 
 
 And, when I cease to hold thee dear, 
 The eyes of thy poor Bob, 
 
 Will be without a smile, or tear ; 
 His pulse without a throb !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 75 
 
 SENSIBILITY. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 I saw the tear upon her cheek ; 
 
 And heard her, of her sorrows speak, 
 
 In tones of most severe distress ; 
 
 The cause, of which, I well could guess : 
 
 For, I had been beyond the sea, 
 
 A prisoner to the enemy ; 
 
 And had escap'd, and just return'd, 
 
 To bless the maid, who for me mourn'd. 
 
 Oh ! God, what raptures did I feel, 
 
 To see, I was belov'd so well ! — 
 
 Those tears, my own, my charming maid ; 
 
 For me, and only me, are shed. 
 
 I flew to clasp her to my heart ; 
 
 Resolv'd we never more should part ; — 
 
 Cheer up my life; for I am come ; 
 
 No more to stray from love and home.
 
 76 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 " Of love and home, talk not to me ; 
 Why would you fan my misery : 
 
 cruel, and unthinking man ; 
 
 1 really wonder, how you can 
 Insult my ears, with sounds so vain 
 When, Flirt * I'll never see again, 
 An ugly cur came through the street, 
 And, kill'd the darling, at my feet !" 
 
 * Flirt, the Lady's lap-dog.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 77 
 
 THE EX- ALDERMAN'S PIGS. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 To tell the county, I am loth, 
 A story of some yellow broth ; 
 Compounded by the rads and whigs, 
 To purge a lot of dark-blue pigs ; 
 And they, not dreaming of a plot, 
 Found death was lurking in the pot ! 
 Poor simple too-confiding things ; 
 Your sad mishap my bosom -wrings, 
 To think that you, no better knew, 
 Than to accept their soup, or stew ; 
 For, when they roast, or boil, or bake, 
 Mischief 'is meant, " and no mistake." 
 In all their doings, there is evil, 
 Altho' tbey seem so wondrous civil 
 This you have found out, to your cost, 
 No chance is now for you, to roast 
 
 H
 
 78 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 Or crackle, in a frying pan, 
 To fill the paunch of alderman, 1 
 Or gorge the maw, of wight mechanical ; 
 Or cram a hungry half- fed radical; 
 But in some nauseous, nameless spot, 
 Your poor remains must lie, and rot, 
 Shunn'd by the clog and eke the cat ; 
 And e'en the meagre, prowling rat, 
 Will scarcely look you in the face, 
 But scamper from your dwelling place ! 
 A long adieu, my pretty dears ; — 
 For you, the parson is in tears, 
 And all the corporaters late, 
 Are mourning your untimely fate. 
 Yet, grieve not thus, most worthy blues, 
 Nor thanks to providence, refuse ; 
 Because the dose, (by rads and whiys), 
 Was meant for you, and not the pigs ; 
 Knowing, that you so long have been 
 Turn'd out of office, and quite lean ! 
 They calculated, that you would, 
 .Consider it delightful food.* 
 
 * The story of the Pigs is this: — In July, 1836, a Whig- 
 Radical Feast was given, in Colchester, in honour of H. Tufnell, 
 Esq. and, among many other good things, there were hams, and 
 rounds of heef. — Now, it so happened, that the liquor, in which 
 they were hoiled, was left in the copper all night; and the late 
 worthy Alderman's Pigs, (not heing politicians, nor aware that the 
 drink was hrewed by the enemy,) chose to breakfast on it, ami 
 shared a fate as bad as then- brethren of the lake.
 
 ;hymes at random. 79 
 
 TO A WELL-KNOWN DETRACTOR- 
 
 -oo- 
 
 thou, of soul, so dull and narrow ! 
 
 1 would not wish, rough-shod, to harrow 
 The little feeling, that you have ; 
 
 For, nature never to you gave 
 A'gift, in common with a man, 
 Except the shape : — but, when I scan 
 You, with a scrutinizing eye, 
 There is a something, I can spy, 
 That puzzles me about your breed ; 
 Your genus, habits, and your creed, 
 But, sure I am, foul-mouth d detraction : 
 May claim you, of her own extraction ; 
 Envy, of old, did slander wed ; 
 And are, no doubt, your mam and dad.
 
 80 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO MARY. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 The moon is up, the stars appear ; 
 And the face of night does a dimple wear, 
 So, o'er the stile, and through the mead, 
 I'll hie away, with my utmost speed. 
 
 2. 
 
 By the burn, on the bonny bank, 
 Gowans and daises are growing rank , 
 And there, too, blooms the hawthorn tree, 
 Beneath which, Mary waits for me. 
 
 3. 
 
 She owns she loves, with bursting sighs, 
 Whilst tears start, in her averted eyes, 
 Which I kiss off; and I really think, 
 There ne'er was aught so sweet in drink. 
 
 4. 
 
 O ! the high, the exalted bliss, 
 That's felt, in a fortunate hour like this ; 
 Such boon, all gracious heaven, bestows 
 As a balm, for our past and future woes ;
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. SI 
 
 5. 
 
 For he who feels the lover's flame, 
 And, in return meets with the same, 
 Reeks little about the cares and strife; 
 That ever abound, in this busy life : 
 The spark etherial from the sky, 
 Lightens the load of mortality ! 
 
 h5
 
 82 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 I can remember well the day, 
 
 When first thy heart was press'd to mine; 
 And thou wert rob'd, in the array 
 
 Of innocence, almost divine. 
 
 2. 
 
 Thou too, wert fair as any thing ; 
 
 That in the field or garden, grows ; 
 And, when invested with the ring, 
 
 Thou could'st not dream of future woes. 
 
 3. 
 
 We both were young, and in our veins, 
 The tide of life, impetuous ran ; 
 
 No cares had we, no aches or pains, 
 To mar, of happiness, our plan. 
 
 4. 
 
 In thee was centre'd all my joy, 
 
 For thou wert gentle, sweet, and mild : 
 
 And I had lov'd thee, from a boy, 
 Nay, from a very little child !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 83 
 
 5. 
 
 And thou, on me, so kind didst look ; 
 
 And sing the songs of infant years, 
 Such as we warbled by the brook ; 
 
 Where, since, we oft have mingled tears. 
 
 6. 
 
 Those days and years, long since, are gone ; 
 
 Yet, Cupid never us forsook; 
 To worship him, we are as prone, 
 
 As when, thy lily hand I took.
 
 84 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 A HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 At thy shrine, Blessed Virgin ! devoutly we kneel, 
 O, beg mercy for us ! from him who can heal 
 The bruises we suffer, in life's rugged way ; 
 Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray. 
 
 2. 
 
 On account of our sins, we are low in the dust; 
 In thee, is our solace, our hope, and our trust, — 
 From those, who would make, of our weakness, a prey 
 Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray. 
 
 3. 
 
 When the song of the lark, greets the dawning of 
 morn, 
 
 And blossoms the fragrant, and lovely hawthorn ; 
 
 Fall dress'd in the garments of gentle young May; 
 
 . Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray. 
 
 4. 
 
 When brooks are decreas'd ; and the clear summer sky, 
 Gives joy to the heart, and delight to the eye; 
 And forests are green ; and the meadows are gay ; 
 Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 85 
 
 4. 
 
 When Autumn rewards, with her plentiful spoil, 
 The husbandman's patience, his care, and his toil ; 
 And berries are brown, falling fast to decay ; 
 Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray. 
 
 4. 
 
 When Winter is howling, and drenching with rain ; 
 Or driving his snow, over mountain and plain ; 
 And we are shut out, from the sun's feeble ray, 
 Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray. 
 
 3. 
 
 Whatever betides us, at home or a-field, 
 Be thou our inspirer, our buckler, and shield ; 
 When evil approaches, by night or by day, 
 Give us thy protection, dear Virgin, we pray.
 
 86 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE FISHERMAN AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 My Mary ! thou art sleeping ; 
 
 And I the deck am on ; 
 The waves are round us sweeping, 
 
 With many a hollow moan. 
 
 2. 
 
 The moon is gliding through the haze, 
 Whilst, now and then, a star 
 
 Peers out, upon our course to gaze ; 
 And light us to the Yar. 
 
 3. 
 
 Our boat is laden to the brim, 
 
 And labours in the foam, 
 Yet, with to-morrow's parting gleam, 
 
 We trust to be at home : 
 
 4. 
 
 I think of home, and think of thee ; 
 
 And of the days, now past ; 
 When, in thy arms, I used to be, 
 
 Far from the ocean's blast.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 8' 
 
 5. 
 
 Sleep on my love ! the morn will break, 
 
 The lark will soar on high ; 
 And thou, from pleasant dreams shalt wake ; 
 
 And heave a gentle sigh ; 
 
 6. 
 
 As to the God of Heaven, thine heart, 
 
 Is lifted up, in prayer, 
 For him ; who ever took a part, 
 
 In all thy joys, and care.
 
 88 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE POETS BRIDE. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 Jenny, dear Jenny, I hear the folk say, 
 You marry my rival, the poet, to-day : — 
 Bethink ye starvation does very soon come; 
 And sets up his tent, in a Rhymer's home. 
 
 2. 
 I've houses, and land, and yourself I adore ; 
 So, rush not on ruin; hut timely beware; 
 Despise him, and all his pretensions deride ; — 
 By Jove ! you shall ne'er be a poet's bride. 
 
 3. 
 
 But, with all his difficulties, heap'd on his head ; 
 And were he without, e'en the means, to get bread ; 
 He's the man of my choice — and a touch of his hand, 
 
 1 value far more, than thy houses and land; 
 
 4 
 
 For were I to wed thee, 'twould be for thy pelf; 
 And surely thou canst not believe, e'en thyself, 
 That woman can love such a thing ; — and my pride 
 Is, to-morrow to be hail'd, a songster's bride !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 89 
 
 TO THE CHILDREN OF TOIL. 
 
 " And hence, the Fathers of Imperial Rome." 
 — 00 — 
 
 1. 
 
 By way of joke, I try'cl to sing 
 
 The praises of corruption ; 
 But, suddenly, my muse took wing 
 
 Asham'd of the transaction ! 
 
 2. 
 
 But ere she left me, dull and dark, 
 
 She said, " you're wicked very, 
 With things, that are so vile, to lark, — 
 
 I shall not with you tarry." 
 
 3. 
 
 " My chosen you have ever heen, 
 
 But, when you tune the lyre, 
 To aught that's sordid, base or mean, 
 
 I cannot you inspire." 
 
 4. 
 
 O heavenly goddess ! I reply'd 
 
 Restore me to thy favour ; 
 And evermore, my bonny bride, 
 
 To please thee I'll endeavour.
 
 90 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 " Agreed" she said — " come, raise the song. 
 For those, of small pretendence, 
 
 The honest-hearted, blithe, and strong 
 Workmen of independence ! 
 
 6. 
 
 " The noble, patriotic bard 
 Will turn from Whig and Tory, 
 
 With satisfaction and regard 
 To Britain's hope and glory."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 91 
 
 A TALE OF CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " Man owns so little of true happiness, 
 That curs'd be he who makes that little less. 
 
 -OO- 
 
 1. 
 
 A wounded Dragoon hurried off to the rear ; 
 
 And the crimson tide flowed fast 
 From a sabre cut, just above his ear; 
 Or, it might be by a lance or spear ; 
 
 But too ghastly for life to last. 
 
 2. 
 
 Ho ! Soldier, ho ! Soldier, pray canst thou tell 
 
 Any news from the battle field ? — 
 Loud is the thunder, and dreadful the yell, 
 Are they fled who against our young Q do rebel, 
 
 Or beg they for mercy, and yield ? 
 
 3 - 
 
 " They sue not for mercy, nor yet are they fled ; 
 
 But stand to their colors, most true, — 
 The field, with the blood of our kindred, is red, 
 Many are dying, and numbers are dead, 
 
 By sabre and shot pierced through.
 
 92 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 " Some water, I hope at your hands to acquire ; 
 
 And then, with what speed I may, 
 I'll cross the country, a little higher ; 
 And embrace my feeble, and reverend sire, 
 
 Ere this body returns to its clay : 
 
 5. 
 
 " A rifle he rais'd, in the rebel ranks ; — 
 
 From these hands received a scar, 
 As we, headlong, charg'd on their centre and flanks : 
 Oh ! damn'd be the vile Ministerial pranks, 
 
 That could light up a civil war." 
 
 6. 
 
 A paleness came over his dark, brown cheek ; 
 
 He reel'd on his saddle, and fell, — 
 I rais'd him, — an effort he made to speak ; 
 But fainted, — and off flew his spirit to seek 
 
 A new mansion, in which to dwell. 
 
 7. 
 
 The wife of his heart, found his resting place ; 
 
 And soundly sleeps by his side ; 
 An orphan child, with a thin pale face, 
 Is all the token, by which we can trace, 
 
 The Dragoon and his hapless bride.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 93 
 
 8. 
 I sought the abode of his aged sire ; 
 
 But, that was no-where to be found ; 
 A ruinous heap, bearing marks of fire, 
 Was pointed to me, by a reverend friar, 
 
 That Loyalty bum'd to the ground. 
 
 9. 
 I found out a grave, in a lonely spot, 
 
 With a cross, and engraven thereon, — 
 " Deceased met his death by a random shot, 
 When defending his country — ah ! hapless lot: — 
 
 That shot was discharg'd by his Son ! 
 
 i5
 
 94 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO A BROTHER BARD, IN MISFORTUNE. 
 
 " Who does the best his circumstance allows 
 Does well — acts nobly — Angels can no more ! 
 
 — 00 — 
 1. 
 
 When clouds are the darkest, they're nearest the 
 clearing ; 
 
 Why then, for the future, friend, should we be fearing ? 
 
 So let us be merry, and talk of things pleasant ; 
 
 For, fortune can never be worse than at present ! 
 
 2. 
 
 Wise is the man who defies the blind goddess, 
 Whose favors are pour'd (and that really most odd is) 
 On impudent, cold-hearted, mean, sordid fellows, 
 Disgrace of mankind : — would be so to a gallows ! 
 
 3. 
 
 Who would forego the heart-felt satisfaction ; 
 That mortals enjoy, who, upon retrospection 
 Of years, that are gone, find a conscience applauding 
 The owner's transactions, in place of upbraiding ? 
 
 4. 
 
 Cheer up then, my worthy, we yet have a treasure, 
 Of far greater value ; and much better measure, 
 Than those, who, of gold and estates have possession, 
 Obtain'd by chicanery, trick, and oppression.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 95 
 
 5. 
 
 That treasure is virtue ; and those who possess her, 
 May smile at the freaks of the purse-proud aggressor; 
 The sun of whose day, will be seen at the setting, 
 Emblazon'd with horror, despair, and regretting. 
 
 6. 
 
 As human affairs are, as water, unstable, 
 
 We, therefore, should hope and act as we are able ; 
 
 Well arm'd with integrity, combat all evil ; 
 
 And scorn filthy Mammon, whose god is the devil !
 
 96 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Lassie, wi' the auburn hair, 
 Whither dost thou wander ? 
 
 Thus, alone throughout the fair; 
 Know'st thou not, that slander 
 
 2. 
 
 With her goggle, fiendish eyes, 
 Is now upon thee glowering ? 
 
 And rumour, with her hundred lies, 
 Thy fair fame is devouring. 
 
 3. 
 
 " With slander what have I to do ! 
 
 Conscience me witness can bear ; 
 And, while my duty, I pursue, 
 
 Detraction I do not fear; 
 
 4. 
 
 In folly's race, I never ran, 
 
 So rumour cannot harm me : — 
 
 But in good truth, I seek a man, 
 
 Whose sight would really charm me."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 97 
 
 5. 
 
 This is confession, fair indeed ; 
 
 Now, let a friend advise ye, 
 Of fickle, erring man, take heed ; 
 
 For mickle do I prize ye ; 
 
 6. 
 
 Perhaps he at this moment , has 
 
 Upon his knee, a damsel ; 
 And, with her, shares the willing kiss ; 
 
 Forgetting of thine ainsel. 
 
 7. 
 
 " And what of that ! — fell jealousy, 
 
 Ne'er enter'd in my bosom ; 
 A groat, I now would give to see, 
 
 Him, on her lap, repose him ; 
 
 8. 
 
 No doubt that you sincerely speak ; 
 
 But, words to me are trivial ; — 
 Here comes my father, whom I seek; 
 
 And dear mamma my rival !"
 
 98 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO A SONNETTEER. 
 
 " Fire, nature, genius, never dwelt with you." 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Ill-fated youth ! what demon dares, 
 To urge thee, rhymes to write, 
 
 In contravention of thy stars ; 
 And e'en in reason's spite P 
 
 2. 
 
 Abstain from verses, as from sin ; 
 
 And tempt the muse no further ; 
 For that, thou hast already done, 
 
 Is worse than common murder !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 99 
 
 TO MRS. 
 
 UN" BEING ADMONISHED BY HER TO BE MORE CAREFUL. 
 
 — 00 — 
 1. 
 
 Lady, I thank you for the care, 
 You take of one, whom much I fear, 
 " Is past redemption" as you say ; 
 " For hoarding up, for life's decay." 
 
 2. 
 
 Life is a bark, so very frail, 
 
 Like to upset, in every gale ; 
 
 And what with sands, rocks, and embargo, 
 
 Not fit to trust, with a rich cargo. 
 
 3. 
 
 Oh ! would you, but, the trial make 
 Of being liberal, you'd partake 
 Of joys, a banquet, such as Heaven, 
 To generous souls has only given. 
 
 4. 
 
 My years are few ; but I have seen 
 Some ups and downs in life, I ween ; 
 And yet, I really can't repent, 
 For cash, on others I have spent.
 
 100 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 No doubt, I many things have done, 
 That now experienced, I would shun ; 
 But, be it clearly understood, 
 My errors, all, were meant for good : 
 
 6. 
 
 This conscious feeling gives relief; 
 And turns, to demi-joy, my grief; 
 For I believe that God will scan, 
 The intentions only, of the man.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 101 
 
 THE INFANT SCHOOL. 
 
 " Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." 
 
 — 00 
 
 1. 
 
 A modest building, stands remote, 
 
 From traffic's constant din ; 
 Upon a neat, secluded spot, 
 
 Enclos'd, by paling, in ; 
 Nothing masonic, does it grace, 
 
 Save plummet, scpiare, and rule; 
 But, o'er the entrance, I can trace 
 
 These words;— "The Infant School." 
 
 2. 
 
 Here, learning, on the tender mind, 
 
 Her first impression makes, 
 By lessons to the little band, 
 
 That much of play partakes ; 
 And here, the way to Heaven, is taught 
 
 To children, bright and dull, 
 From texts, with holy feeling fraught ; 
 
 Which gem " The Infant School." 
 
 E
 
 102 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 3. 
 
 No ebullition, of ill blood, 
 
 Disturb tbe motley fry ; 
 They dare not, if they would, be rude, 
 
 Beneath a teacher's eye : 
 " Train up a child as he should go" 
 
 Is wisely said, and well ; 
 Who, then, would not their aid bestow ? 
 
 Upon " the Infant School." 
 
 4. 
 
 With heart-felt pleasure I behold, 
 
 The tiny students meet, 
 All neat and clean, within their fold ; 
 
 Out from the noisy street ; 
 Where vice is pass'd, as current coin, 
 
 By every knave and fool ; 
 And ah ! how many would them join ! 
 
 But for, " The Infant School." 
 
 5. 
 
 Ladies, beneath whose fostering care, 
 
 This work of love proceeds ; 
 That God, who hears the Infant's prayer, 
 
 Will bless such pious deeds ! 
 For, surely He inspir'd the man 
 
 With philanthrophy full, 
 Who form'd, and brought to light, the plan 
 
 Of the first "Infant School."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 103 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A BEAUTIFUL GIRL, 
 
 " Thou hast left us in darkness, first of the maids of Lutha !" 
 
 — 00 — 
 
 O there is a beauty, so chaste, soft and mellow, 
 
 As moon-beams that play on the crest of the billow ; 
 
 Or rays of Aurora, what time she does smile, 
 
 With her best-natur'd looks, human cares to beguile : 
 
 And there is a beauty more bright than the sun, 
 
 Whose splendour the eye can but ill rest upon ; 
 
 And the mortal, who rashly, to gaze on it dares, 
 
 Is sadly forsaken, by all his good stars, 
 
 Far better he ended his cares in the brook, 
 
 Than, e'en for a moment, upon it to look : 
 
 And such was Eliza — so merciful Jove, 
 
 Took her to give light, to the mansions above !
 
 104 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 EPISTLE 
 TO Dr. M 
 
 — oo- 
 
 Dear Galen ; — master of the art ; 
 
 That gracious Phoebus did impart 
 
 To early Greece, (by leech and pills) 
 
 For mitigating human ills ; 
 
 Ah ! could thy skill, extract the dart, 
 
 That rankles, in the broken heart ; 
 
 Thy craft, indeed would be divine ; 
 
 And men would worship at thy shrine. 
 
 When Jupiter conceiv'd the plan, 
 Of moulding, from the clay, a man ; 
 And with celestial, living fire, 
 The new-form'd* image, to inspire ; 
 'Tis evident, that he saw fit, 
 The flame to temper, which he lit: 
 Hence, are the different grades of mind ; 
 That move, and animate mankind. 
 
 * " And God made man after his own image."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 105 
 
 Some are impell'd to cross the deep ; 
 And danger brave, when others sleep ; 
 While many choose, a safer road, 
 Through life to pass ; and daily plod, 
 In search of some untasted fruit ; 
 That ever baffles the pursuit. 
 From the poor hind, who tills the soil ; 
 And eats his scanty bread, by toil ; 
 Up to the head, that wears a crown ; 
 All have their cares, to weigh them down ; 
 And pleasure, all enjoy at times, 
 E'en the half-witted child of rhymes ; 
 Who, water drinks, and dines on air ; 
 Has now and then, of bliss, a share ; 
 Which ever is the most complete, " 
 When, by good fortune, you I meet. 
 
 k5
 
 106 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO Mr. J. GASS. 
 
 ON THE CANADIAN WAR. 
 — OO — 
 
 1. 
 
 I dare not wish a curse upon, 
 
 My country's potent arms ; 
 Tho' turn'd against that mother's son ; 
 
 Whose blood my bosom warms : 
 2. 
 But, I will curse, and loudly curse ; 
 
 The base, official crew, 
 Proud, ignorant, and vile, — far worse ; 
 
 Than he who Abel slew. 
 3. 
 One brother's blood, suffic'd to stay, 
 
 The ruffian's ruthless hand ; 
 But, to the sword they've made a prey, 
 
 Of a once happy, land. 
 
 4. 
 
 Bear they the semblance of men P 
 Or are they monsters, rare, 
 
 Just turn'd out, of old Pluto's den, 
 With tails, and hoofs, and hair.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 107 
 
 5. 
 
 With visages most Devil-like ; 
 
 And horns, upon the crown, 
 Surmounted with a blood-hound tyke ; 
 
 To hunt fair freedom down ? 
 
 6. 
 
 Sons of the Empire ! when will you 
 
 Impeach these wretches vile ? 
 Who, this unholy game pursue ; 
 
 And harpy-like defile ; 
 
 7. 
 The viands, which they cannot gorge ; 
 
 So foul their appetite ; — 
 That nothing, but a hempen purge, 
 
 Will set their stomachs right !
 
 108 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 THE RECLAIMED HUSBAND. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 Yes, Anna ! we will kneel in church together, 
 And more ; I promise to become a father 
 To our dear children ; — such as you approve, 
 And not unworthy of the ardent love 
 I know you bear me : — come then, with a kiss, 
 Let us begin our days of happiness. 
 The race of dissipation I have ran ; 
 Been too familiar, with the glass and can ; 
 But, bless thy gentleness ! it more hath done 
 Me to reclaim, than aught beneath the sun. 
 Now, Ladies, in your ear, I would a word, 
 If you domestic happiness regard, 
 List to the council of your friend, the bard : 
 Never, severely, chide a husband's errors ; 
 Turn not his home into a place of terrors ; 
 Good nature's banner, ever keep unfurl'd ; 
 And, lovely creatures, you shall rule the world !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 109 
 
 THE STRANGER. 
 
 00- 
 
 1. 
 
 Fair Lady ! say, where dost thou wander alone 
 
 In this dark and tempestuous weather ? 
 Methinks, I percieve, by thy voice's sweet tone ; 
 
 That Erin claims thee for a daughter ; 
 
 2. 
 And if so, what direful mishap does thee bring, 
 
 Thus, to risk both thy life and thine honour ? 
 '• I hasten to beg, on my knees, of our King, 
 
 The life of young Arthur O' Connor ! 
 
 3. 
 
 " He ne'er was a traitor, unto the green isle ; 
 
 The land of his forefather's glory ! 
 Her maids hang their heads, and are ne'er seen to smile, 
 
 When the minstrel alludes to her story." 
 
 4. 
 
 " That story is one of oppression, long borne, 
 With patience, beyond all example : — 
 
 Our rights, long have been, a derision and scorn : — 
 Profan'd is our national temple !"
 
 110 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 " Proscrib'd our religion ; our blood flows amain ; 
 
 Shed by the rude hands of the Saxon ; — 
 Ah ! woe was the day, full of sorrow and pain, 
 
 When we form'd their unholy connexion !" 
 
 6. 
 
 " Oh I^Erin, lov'd country, insulted, betray'd, 
 When wilt thou awake, from thy slumber, 
 
 When shall thy brave sons, 'neath the harp be array 'd 
 And appal our proud foes with their thunder."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. Ill 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 TO H. TUFNELL Esq. M. P. 
 00 
 
 1. 
 
 Where Chelmer's waters creep along ; 
 There stands a building, large and strong, 
 
 Like some baronial tower ; 
 Whose inmates, are the base, the good, 
 The learn'd, the ignorant, and rude, 
 
 The affable, and sour : 
 
 2. 
 
 And fate has will'd that I should be ; 
 One of this strange society ; — 
 
 Shut, from the solar ray, 
 In deep, Cimmerian solitude ; 
 Upon the ills of life I brood ; 
 
 And sigh my hours away. 
 3. 
 Few are the hearts, that will regard, 
 Or feel the poet's lot is hard : 
 
 Alone he walks the earth, 
 Unknown, unheeded by mankind ; 
 Until some noble, master mind 
 
 Appreciate his worth.
 
 112 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 You found my fortune in the shade : 
 And, generously, an effort made, 
 
 My low estate to better ; — 
 So, wag the world as it may, 
 I shall, until my dying day ; 
 
 Confess myself your debtor.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. ] 13 
 
 EPISTLE OF SIR ANDREW AGNEW, 
 
 TO HIS CONSTITUENTS, 
 OX THE REJECTION OF HIS SUNDAY STARVATION BILL, AND 
 LOSS OF HIS SEAT IN PARLIAMENT. 
 
 00 — 
 
 1. 
 
 My friends I advise you (as all men are sinners) 
 To give to the dogs, the beef, meant for your dinners: 
 Cast to the pigs, all your dumplings and gravy ; 
 And call on your saint, to have mercy and save ye. 
 
 2. 
 
 Mortify ! mortify ! brethren the body ; — 
 I practise it not — but I make it my study ; 
 And I can assure you, that there are no offerings 
 So pleasing to Heaven, as a peep at your sufferings. 
 
 3. 
 
 My sorrows began, in a past generation ; 
 For, then, was obstructed my way to salvation, 
 By ancestors, leaving me, out of their folly, 
 The means of good living : — so very unholy ! 
 
 4. 
 
 Much time have I wasted, in kindly persuading 
 John Bull, that good eating is vastly degrading ; 
 But he will not listen to me, silly mortal ! 
 So, sticks to his mutton, his beef, and his turtle. 
 
 L
 
 114 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 And, would you believe it, that e'en on the sabbath 
 The unwash'd mechanics, more head-strong than 
 
 Naboth, 
 Will light up their fires, and waste hours in cooking, 
 Regardless of me, and my holy rebuking. 
 
 6. 
 
 I, therefore, perceive that my sanctified mission, 
 Was never intended, for this guilty nation,* 
 So, I shall return, and my tent pitch among you, 
 And see that old satan, in nothing, does wrong you I 
 
 *Sir Andrew must mean the English section of the empire; 
 and having lost his election, very properly makes a merit of ne- 
 cessity in retiring from his arduous labours, — Printer's Demi..
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 115 
 
 THE REAL SECOND SIGHT. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 An L. L. D. in Ipswich, noted, — 
 A worthy man ; but so devoted 
 To contradiction — 'tis no matter, 
 Whate'er the subject ; he knows better ! 
 
 2. 
 
 The other day, the doctor went 
 To see a grand balloon ascent ; 
 And as it soar'd towards the skies, 
 Follow'd by straining-, eager eyes; — 
 
 3. 
 
 " I see it yet" a friend exclaim'd ; 
 At which the doctor, much inflam'd, 
 Bawl'd out, exerting all his might, 
 * By G — / see it out of sight !"
 
 ] 16 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO SIR G. H. SMYTH, Bart. M. P. 
 
 ON HIS GIVING 
 
 TEN ACRES OF LAND TO THE POOR OF THE 
 PARISH OF LAYER DE LA HAY. 
 
 — oo 
 
 1. 
 
 Respected chief of Berechurch Hall, 
 Accept this tribute — though but small, 
 
 A staunch reformer brings 
 To you, for your considerate care 
 Of those whom fate has doom'd to bear 
 
 Dire poverty's keen stings. 
 2. 
 Oh ! that the rich, wert e'en for shame, 
 Would go and likewise, do the same 
 
 They'd banish human ills, 
 
 And England would, again be merry; 
 
 Nor should we one another worry, 
 With Corporation Bills.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. ] 17 
 
 A SONG, 
 
 "ILL BE A BRIDE ON THE MORROW. " 
 — OO — 
 
 1. 
 
 Last night I stay'd late at the fair; 
 
 And when I came home, my mammy, 
 From beating me would not forbear, 
 
 'Cause I had been romping with Tammy ; 
 
 2. 
 
 My father look'd sulky, and swore 
 
 I gied him .great pain and sorrow ; — 
 But I, for his frowns, dinna care, 
 
 For I'll be a bride on the morrow ! 
 
 3. 
 Tarn vows he will ever be kind ; 
 
 And, why should I doubt his professions ; 
 To favour his suit, I'm inclin'd, 
 
 In spite of the threats of relations ; 
 
 4. 
 
 Tis true, that his jacket is bare, 
 
 His fortune is scanty, and narrow ; 
 But poverty I dinna fear, 
 
 s " I be a bride on the morrow !
 
 lib RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 Tis better to run every risk, 
 
 That waits upon wedlock, than tarry 
 At home, and be taken to task, 
 
 So I am determin'd to marry ; — 
 
 6. 
 
 Then oft', to the village, I'll run, 
 
 Tho' fees for the priest I must borrow ; 
 
 And take to myself a guid man ; 
 And do as I like on the morrow !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 119 
 
 ON THE REJECTION OF THE CATHOLIC 
 RELIEF BILL. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 Oh ! Ireland, who will now redress thy wrongs P 
 Green Isle, of generous hearts and heavenly songs 
 Nature, indignant, seems her strings to burst, 
 To see thy sons, of men the most accurs'd, 
 And, without mercy, trampled in the dust. 
 For you, the Poet chaunts in plaintive strain ; 
 The orator pleads for you ; — but, in vain 
 Are all the efforts, of the good and great, 
 To better your degraded, abject state ; 
 The absentee demands your sweat and toil, 
 That he may live in splendour, on the spoil. 
 Of all the ills, by which the heart is torn ; 
 That, of suspense, is hardest to be borne; 
 And, at this game, your heartless rulers play, 
 And fill their pockets, by the dire delay. 
 Brave sons of Erin ! be no more deceiv'd, 
 By noble Lords, you will not be reliev'd ',
 
 120 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 » 
 
 Therefore, unite, and fearlessly demand 
 
 To walk unfetter'd in your native land : — 
 
 Your call will be responded to, by all 
 
 Good spirits, from Penzance, unto Kirkwall : 
 
 Use every effort to procure Reform ; 
 
 Which, once obtain'd, Lord Eldon's wizard charm 
 
 Will on your necks, no more impose the yoke ; 
 
 But, mingle with the air, like fetid smoke !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 121 
 
 TO MRS.- 
 
 — 00 — 
 
 Apollo ! source of life and song, 
 To you, my homage does belong ; 
 Without your genial fire to warm, 
 And Cupid's smile, the heart to charm, 
 Life were, indeed, an arid vale ; 
 And worthless as a blockhead's tale ! 
 Dull is the hearth, and cold the bed ; 
 And cheerless is the fair who's wed 
 (By fate malevolent) to a man ; 
 Whose blood, impetuous never ran, 
 But, through whose lifeless veins does drawl 
 Like water through a Dutch canal ; — 
 With such, a home was never sweet ; 
 With such, bliss never was complete ! 
 Seven years, it seems, are nearly fled, 
 Since, to the altar thou wert led ; 
 And in that time, no doubt, there has 
 Been many things to mar thy bliss ;
 
 122 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 Yet, still, the capricious god 
 Has ever dwelt, in your abode ; 
 Hence, I conclude that there be few 
 Can boast of joys, so sweet as you. 
 Adieu ! and may the choicest things 
 That skill, or labour, daily wrings 
 From mother-earth ; or seas, or air, 
 Or spheres, remote ; — fall to thy share.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. ] 23 
 
 ON POLAND. 
 
 — oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 The spoiler came, dear Poland ! 
 
 And laid thy glories low ; 
 But history tells of no land 
 
 That warded off the blow ; 
 
 2. 
 With such heroic bravery, 
 
 As thy bold sons have shewn ; 
 And, but for treacherous knavery, 
 
 The victory was thine own. 
 
 3. 
 
 Thy sun is set, fair Poland ! 
 
 And long may be the night, 
 Before thy keen, though low brand 
 
 Shall start up in its might : 
 
 4. 
 
 And deal out vengeance dire, 
 
 On all, who took a part, 
 In quenching of the fire, 
 
 That warm'd the Polish heart.
 
 124 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 Thy matrons, prostrate, Poland ! 
 
 And virgins are in tears ; 
 Oh ! can it be that no hand, 
 
 Will chase away their fears ; 
 
 6. 
 
 Long have they sigh'd, in sadness, 
 Around the hearths they prize 
 
 When will the sun of gladness 
 Illuminate their eyes ? 
 
 7. 
 
 Tho' thou art trod on, Poland ! 
 
 Thy banner, yet, shall wave, 
 And terrify the foe-band, 
 
 That came, thee to enslave ; 
 
 8. 
 
 Is there a hand in England, 
 
 That would not draw the blade ; 
 
 The cause of glorious Poland 
 And liberty, to aid ?
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 125 
 
 TO ELIZA. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 Eliza ! I have seen an eye 
 That sparkles, bright as thine, 
 
 With cheeks, on which the rose's dye 
 As ruby-like does shine : 
 
 2. 
 
 And I have seen a neck as white, 
 And brow as smooth and fair, 
 
 With lips, that seem to take delight 
 In bidding youths despair : 
 
 3. 
 
 But these, my bosom cannot warm, 
 
 I pass them, heedless by, 
 For o'er my heart there reigns a charm 
 
 Unseen by mortal eye ; 
 
 4. 
 
 And shouidst thou wish, to know the spell, 
 
 That so my soul subdues ; 
 That knits me to my bonnie-sel, 
 
 And urges on my muse, 
 
 M
 
 126 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 Tis thy dear worth — that is impress'd 
 
 So fairly on my mind ; 
 It haunts me in the hour of rest, 
 
 And shews thee ever kind.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 127 
 
 A MORNING EXERCISE, 
 
 FOR THE CHILDREN OF "THE INFANT SCHOOL." 
 
 OO — 
 
 1. 
 
 Father of light ! Eternal King ! 
 
 We bow before thy throne, 
 And, with our feeble voices sing, 
 
 The wonders thou hast done. 
 
 2. 
 
 Thou hast preserv'd us, through last night, 
 
 Awaking and asleep ; — 
 Teach us this day to walk aright, 
 
 And thy commandments keep. 
 
 3. 
 
 We thank thee for the food we eat; — 
 
 The clothing which we wear, 
 The coals that warm our hands and feet, 
 
 And for our teachers dear. 
 
 4. 
 
 We praise thee for our patrons kind, 
 Through whom we're daily taught ; 
 
 And but for whom, we had been blind, 
 Nor known that Christ us bought.
 
 128 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 O fill our hearts with gratitude ; 
 
 And may we never swerve 
 From the sweet path of rectitude ; 
 
 But all our lives thee serve. 
 
 6. 
 
 Not only for ourselves we pray, 
 But all the human race : — 
 
 O lead them in the heavenly way, 
 By thy redeeming grace.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. I 2!> 
 
 TO MARY. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 I. 
 
 Adieu ! my dearest Mary, 
 With thee I cannot tarry 
 
 Longer than a clay, 
 Frae our bower of willows, 
 O'er the restless billows, 
 
 I must shape my way, 
 
 2. 
 
 Trusting- in rude Neptune, 
 Following blind fortune, 
 Altho' she's scarce supportin' 
 
 Me with one cheering ray ; 
 But, I trust, she'll brighten, 
 And my path enlighten, 
 
 With her smiles so gay. 
 
 3. 
 
 Why those tears, my lover, 
 
 Winter will blow over 
 
 His blasts, sae chill and drear ;: 
 
 Birds now mute and eerie, 
 
 Will become fou cheerie, 
 
 And, with song delight the ear;, 
 m o
 
 130 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 April's rosy morning, 
 
 Is on the way returning, 
 
 Which will relieve their mourning 
 
 And tune their voices clear ; 
 And tho' no May-day blossoms, 
 Can now relieve our bosoms 
 
 We, yet may sing, my dear ! 
 
 \
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 13 J 
 
 A CONSERVATIVE SONG of ANTICIPATION. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Whig-Radicals, of every hue, 
 I something have to tell you, 
 Our gracious Queen has seen you through, 
 
 And, shortly will expell you 
 From places, which you basely have, 
 
 Obtain'd, by bat and cudgel ; 
 And ye may madly rant and rave, 
 But, certes, you must budge all. 
 Chorus. 
 Now, now, now ! 
 Out go Whig-Radicals 
 Now, now, now. 
 
 2. 
 
 John Bull has for a time been coax'd, 
 
 With promises of honey ; 
 Just as an honest man is hoax'd, 
 
 By thieves, out of his money ; — 
 O'Connell's league has open'd quite 
 
 The organs of his vision ; 
 And now, that he can see aright, 
 
 He finds your deeds are treason ; 
 
 Now, &c.
 
 132 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 3. 
 
 Begone ye snarling, yelping curs ; 
 
 And hide you, in your garrets, 
 Or creep into your holes, all-fours, 
 
 Like to your brother ferrets ; 
 Your quackery, vile, has had its day, 
 
 And soon, old England's glories 
 Will be renew'd, beneath the sway, 
 
 Of honest-hearted Tories ! 
 
 Now, &c.
 
 KHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 133 
 
 EPISTLE, 
 TO MR. J. BRUCE. 
 
 " Woe unto you ; Scribes and Pharisees, Hypocrites !" 
 — oo 
 
 Amid the war of jarring- creeds, 
 
 Where, very rarely, truth succeeds, 
 
 I take my stand, to note and mark 
 
 The fury, of the bigots dark. 
 
 Who now at miracles will sneer, 
 
 When *Noel's wonderous tale they hear; 
 
 How a boy, deaf and dumb, to boot, 
 
 Had caught the mania of dispute ; 
 
 And solemnly abjur'd the errors, 
 
 With all the thumb-screws, racks and terrors 
 
 * See this Rev. Gentleman at Exeter Hall, labouring in con- 
 junction with Mc'Gee and Co.
 
 134 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 Of Rome ; eke saints, and imagees 
 
 At sight of * Farnham's bread and cheese ? 
 
 And, hence, his happy reformation, 
 
 Has set his dormant jaws in motion. 
 
 O bigotry ! of Heaven accurs'd, 
 
 Of human ills, the very worst, 
 
 Thou genuine child of Belzebub, 
 
 Arm'd with a fagot and a club ; 
 
 When wilt thou agitation cease ; 
 
 And let poor mortals live in peace ? 
 
 Thy reign, intollerance began, 
 
 When Jove created the first man ; — 
 
 So Cain, to thy tenets true, 
 
 His righteous brother, basely slew, 
 
 And the sole motive for the deed 
 
 Was simply difference in creed ! 
 
 Ye zealots ! impious and profane ; 
 
 How dare ye take God's name in vain 
 
 With your polluted, poisonous breath, 
 
 Which damns all those, whose mode of faith 
 
 Squares not with that which you profess ; — 
 
 My conscience ! but, I must confess 
 
 Your impudence, by far, exceeds 
 
 The most bare-fac'd of Satan's deeds. 
 
 * His Lordship having failed in coercing the Irish Catholics 
 out of their religion, made a trial on their appetites with little 
 better success.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 13-5 
 
 This is the age of puffs and pranks, 
 Play'd off by saintly mountebanks, 
 Who labour, with their cant, to bind 
 The liberal feelings of mankind, 
 Of godliness, they prate and preach ; 
 And cheat all those within their reach. 
 Let common sense, at once put down, 
 This pest of country, and of town ; 
 Lest we, in sackcloth may repent, 
 And curse a Barebone's Parliament '
 
 J36 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 HELEN'S LAMENT. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 When the flowers, on the broom, were beginning to 
 blacken, 
 And night was commencing her wing out to stretch, 
 Poor Helen went out, with her heart nearly broken ; 
 And bent her steps straight to the lone, dreary- 
 beach : 
 
 2. 
 She sigh'd for her lover, who lately had left her ; 
 
 And cross'd the Atlantic ; new lands to explore ; — 
 Some rueful forebodings her bosom did pester, 
 For still she exclaim'd " I shall see him no more." 
 
 3. 
 " Wild beat the billows upon the sand border, 
 
 How sullen and hoarse is the sound of each surge, 
 But ah ! my sad heart is far more in disorder; 
 Than any rude wave, that did ever emerge." 
 
 4. 
 " His every proceeding was mark'd with decorum ; 
 
 His life was a paragon, e'en to the sage ; 
 His true worth and merit, made good men adore him 
 As the brightest gem, that adorned our age !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 137 
 
 " His presence was bliss, far too dear for duration, 
 For oft the clear morning is gloomy ere noon ; 
 
 But, little thought I that our happy connexion, 
 Was doom'd to be sever'd asunder so soon." 
 
 6. 
 
 " Where are the joys, that I often presaged 
 
 Would, one day be mine; when young Allan 
 would be 
 
 In conjugal bands, with his Helen engaged, 
 
 The sweets of connubial blisses to pree ?" 
 
 7. 
 '• Alas ! they are fled, like the too early daisy; 
 
 That shoots forth its stem, and is nipt by the frost; — 
 No anticipations can make my mind easy, 
 
 My hopes are all fled, that I e'er shall be bless 'd ; 
 
 8. 
 " Ah ! never again, shall my grief be assuag'd, 
 
 My tears, in the evening and morning, shall flow ; 
 For Cupid has with me, a fierce warfare wag'd, 
 
 And vanquish'd me, quite, with his unerring bow !" 
 
 N
 
 138 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 EPISTLE, 
 
 TO T PH Esq. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 My worthy Sir, accept my thanks ; 
 For, fortune has, so many pranks 
 Of sheer ill nature; on me play'd, 
 That, in good truth, it may be said ; 
 They are the only coin I have, 
 For your kind services to give. 
 When nature first produc'd the bard, 
 (Child of her most sincere regard) 
 She sigh'd, through all her orbs, to see 
 The ponderous load of misery, 
 That fate suspended o'er his head ; 
 But, comforting herself, she said ; 
 " Son of my love ! I can perceive, 
 That thou art born to sigh, and grieve ; 
 111 suited are thy feelings fine, 
 Partaking much of the divine,
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 139 
 
 To combat with base, worldly slaves ; 
 You, therefore, must expect, that knaves 
 With fronts of brass, and hearts of lead — 
 To every sense of honour dead ; 
 Will be, by Plutus more caress'd : — 
 But, never can they be so bless'd 
 As thou ! — whose heart is pity's throne ; 
 And love, and song are all thine own !"
 
 140 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO THE FAIR SEX. 
 
 " Bear and forbear — a maxim true 
 As erring mortals ever knew." 
 
 — OO — 
 
 Thus sang- the tourist of the lakes ; 
 
 And should the sex obey the maxim ; 
 Men would live, only, for their sakes, 
 
 Nor ever plague, coerce, or vex'em. 
 Woman, however fair thou art, 
 
 However perfect, in each feature, 
 With every grace, that wins the heart, 
 
 But, minus of the charm ; good nature ; 
 Thy reign is transient, as the gleam 
 
 Of sunshine, in a storm of thunder ; 
 Or, like the fabric of a dream, 
 
 That consciousness soon rends asunder. 
 Oh ! I could worship, at the feet 
 Of her, who is of temper sweet ; 
 No matter, though her face were like 
 A Scottish shepherd's moorland tyke ; 
 She has got charms, which madam Fret, 
 Do what she will, can never get.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 141 
 
 Dear woman ! how I grieve to see 
 A Fury in the shape of thee, 
 Contending, with some surly brute, 
 That happens not thy taste to suit ; — 
 Hold ! fairest creature, frown not so, 
 That's not the way his heart to bow ; 
 Do look but pleas'd, and thy sweet face, 
 Will conquer all the biped race ! 
 
 n5
 
 J 42 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 ON A SURVEYOR OF TAXES, 
 
 WELL KNOWN IN COLCHESTER. 
 
 — OO — 
 
 ]. 
 
 If in impartiality, there's merit, 
 
 Ye gods ! how large a share does S inherit, 
 
 For when he deals about his mighty blows, 
 They fall on friends, as heavy as on foes. 
 
 2. 
 
 Methinks when nature call'd him into life, 
 Battles and storms must have been wonderous rife, 
 Hence his propensity for every breeze, 
 That sweeps the land, or agitates the seas : 
 
 3. 
 
 And yet, 'twould seem when Jove had form'd his clay, 
 Into the shape, that we it now survey, 
 He meant to give him wisdom, wealth, and honesty, 
 But spoil'd his job by mixing too much modesty. 
 
 4. 
 
 Farewell awhile to laughter-loving S , 
 
 Long may he live, and Satan fairly bilk; 
 
 Till we are sick of anecdote and wit, 
 
 For his dark dwelling, S will not be fit.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 143 
 
 ON BEING REQUESTED 
 
 TO CAST AWAY A FADED ROSE, AND 
 ACCEPT A FRESH ONE. 
 
 " Should auld acquaintance be forgot )" 
 — 00 — 
 
 1. 
 
 I will not have your pretty flower, 
 
 So fresh and full in blossom, 
 (The master piece of Flora's power) 
 
 To wear within my bosom. 
 
 2. 
 
 One there inhabits; — dull you see; 
 
 And shorn of all its fairness, 
 On which account, 'tis clear to me, 
 
 I love its very searness ! 
 
 3. 
 
 Yet, once it was the pride and joy 
 
 Of many a fond beholder ; 
 And, since I was a stripling boy, 
 
 To me, it seems no older ; 
 
 4. 
 
 Its drooping head, and faded leaf 
 
 Call up such sweet reflections. 
 Of early doings :~but in chief, 
 
 Of love's first wild connexions.
 
 144 KHTMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 If things, inanimate can feel, 
 I know you dearly prize me ; 
 
 And cursed be that heart of steel ; 
 Who in decay, despise thee. 
 
 6. 
 
 Sweet flower, to me, in age more sweet ; 
 
 And dear for being mellow'd, 
 Next to my heart, retain thy seat, 
 
 Where long thou hast been pillow 'd !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 145 
 
 TO THE MAID OF CRETA.* 
 
 " O that I could forget my friends ! 
 Till I come among them with joy." 
 
 — 00 — 
 1. 
 
 Maid of the Creta ! I bid thee farewell, 
 No more shall I lead thee o'er mountain and dell ; 
 No more whisper love, beneath Luna's pale beam, 
 Or trace the meanders of Cree's limpid stream. 
 
 2. 
 
 From the borne of my fathers, I'm doom'd to depart; 
 And what is far worse; from the maid of my heart; 
 But, in whatever region my footsteps may be, 
 My bosom shall beat, dearest, only for thee. 
 
 3. 
 
 When fortune divided, the wealth of this earth, 
 She pass'd over me, as a thing of no worth ; 
 But, to make me amends, ever bountiful Jove 
 Endow'd me, with virtue, with song, and with love. 
 
 4. 
 
 O weep not ! but try every means to forget, 
 That ever we lov'd, or have vow'd, or have met ; 
 To a favourite of Midas, I must thee resign 
 For, fate has decreed thou canst never be mine. 
 
 * A poetical name for the Cree ; a river that rises on the con- 
 fines of Ayrshire, divides the shires of Wigton and Kirkcud- 
 bright, and falls into Wigton bay, at Creetown.
 
 146 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 And yet, it were idle, and vain to endeavour 
 Hearts knit, so as ours, to estrange or dissever ; 
 Ah ! no, we will cherish our love, till the day 
 That mixes our forms, with our old parent clay. 
 
 6. 
 
 We'll live upon hope, — for the day may arrive 
 
 When I shall return, like the bee, to his hive ; 
 The blind goddess, yet, may revoke the decree 
 That drives me, from Creta, from parents, and thee.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 147 
 
 TO ANNA. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 " In all her motions, dignity and love." 
 
 I. 
 
 Ah ! no, I never can forget 
 
 That happy day, that blissful hour; 
 
 When, with my Anna first I met, 
 Upon the sloping banks of Stour. 
 
 2. 
 
 Aurora never look'd so fair 
 
 Reflected, on the ocean's breast ; 
 And Phoebus, of the golden hair, 
 
 So sweet a creature never kiss'd. 
 
 3. 
 She seem'd as of some distant sphere, 
 
 Beyond the reach of mortal trace, 
 Where spring resides, throughout the year ; 
 
 And Angels have there dwelling place. 
 
 4. 
 
 And I have lov'd her, with a heart, 
 That wandering never felt or knew, 
 
 To her it ever does revert 
 
 Unchanging, as heaven's azure blue.
 
 148 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 Bless'd be nay young and gentle dove : 
 May peace and joy, with her abide, — 
 
 Her bosom is the home of love, 
 Where she avers, I do reside. 
 
 6. 
 
 And O ye powers ! that guard and keep 
 From harm the innocent and fair ; 
 
 Be with her, waking or asleep, 
 And tend her, with a lover's care !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 149 
 
 TO DESPONDENCY. 
 
 " And night, e'en in the zenith of her reigH, 
 Is sunshine, to the color of my fate." 
 
 — 00 — 
 1. 
 
 I cannot bear a sunny day, 
 
 My mind's so dark, and moody ; 
 And, would to heaven, I were away 
 Far from the cheering Solar ray, 
 Alone to muse and study. 
 
 2. 
 
 The waving of the stately trees ; 
 
 The brook, that sighs responding ; 
 The fanning of the western breeze, 
 No balsam bring, to my disease ; 
 
 But add to my desponding. 
 
 3. 
 
 Ill can I brook the school-boy train ; 
 
 When, for vacation, started ; 
 Their joyish gambols give me pain ; 
 To share their glee, I try in vain ; — 
 
 For I am broken-hearted.
 
 150 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 The humming of the mountain bees ; 
 
 The lambs, upon the common, 
 That play, or stretch'd, lie at their ease, 
 Have wholly lost the power to please ; 
 
 And so has lovely woman ! 
 
 5. 
 The cooing of the cushit dove ; 
 
 That, to her young, is calling 
 In the thick recess, of the grove ; 
 Cannot attune my heart to love ; 
 
 For ah ! my woes are galling. 
 
 There is a sound, delight that brings 
 
 (The solemn deep-ton'd bell) 
 To me, the most abus'd, of things, 
 "When, at the midnight hour, it rings 
 Some fellow mortal's knell. 
 
 7. 
 Oh ! how I long that day to see, 
 
 When God, my soul untying, 
 Shall set her loose, away to flee 
 From cant, and vile hypocrisy, 
 
 Slander, deceit, and lying !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 151 
 
 TO MISS B N. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 Whe y the breast is heaving, 
 
 With a troubl'd sigh ; 
 And the heart is grieving 
 
 In deepest misery ; 
 
 2. 
 
 When fortune has bereft us, 
 
 Of all our worldly gear ; 
 And hope is gone, and left us 
 
 In darkness, and despair ; — 
 
 3. 
 Oh, then 'tis thine, sweet woman ! 
 
 Away the fiends to chase, 
 With every fearful omen, 
 
 That tends to mar our peace : 
 
 4. 
 
 Best and fairest creature, 
 
 That we, on earth, possess ; 
 May all thy days be pleasure, 
 
 Unclouded by distress !
 
 152 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 UPON A PEDANTIC EDITOR. 
 
 " Aloft, in awful state, 
 The god-Uke hero sat." 
 
 -00- 
 
 1, 
 
 Absurdity said, to dame nature, one day, 
 " I beg you would give me a treat : 
 
 And mould me, a something, just after my way . 
 That your other productions shall beat." 
 
 2. 
 
 The old lady answer 'd; " I'm really afraid, 
 In your line, I've exhausted my skill ; 
 
 But, I will endeavour, your purpose to aid ; 
 And your whimsical wishes fulfil." 
 
 3. 
 
 " A donkey, in embryo, is in my shop; 
 
 In dullness, unrivall'd by any; 
 To please you, I'll give it humanity's shape, 
 
 And mortals shall christen it P y !'"
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 153 
 
 THE STUDENT'S FAREWELL TO 
 EDINBURGH. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 I. 
 
 The session being over, all disperse 
 
 Their several ways ; — the world to them was new ; 
 Some to hard labour; — cash with them was scarce ; 
 
 Yet, various are the objects, they pursue; 
 But oar young genius was one, of the few, 
 
 That measure verses, with the nicest care ; 
 And, anxious this enjoyment, to renew 
 
 Among the echoes, of dark Lochinvar, 
 He took, his homeward way, before the lark began to 
 soar. 
 
 2. 
 
 The watchman's cry, still floated on the gale, 
 
 As, through the quiet streets, he bent his way ; 
 Dim lowering mist rode, over hill and dell ; 
 
 Whilst, in the east, some fleecy streaks of grey 
 Announc'd, the near approach, of cheering day ; 
 
 As on he walk'd, in contemplative mood, 
 He turn'd around, to take a last survey ; 
 
 And for a moment, motionless he stood ; 
 
 Then, striking up the song, he quickly onward trod. 
 
 o-3
 
 164 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 "Ye belles of " Auld Reekie" I greatly admire ye ; 
 
 Your graces are obvious, in every degree ; 
 But, with all your charms, I in no way desire ye, 
 
 My heart only beats for the lass of the Cree ;" 
 
 " Tistrue you are fair as the flowers of the mountain, 
 And sweet as the dew, that distills from the pea ; 
 
 But on the green braes, o'the Greta's clear fountain, 
 One blooms, doubly clear, and enchanting to me." 
 
 5. 
 
 " Farewell, noble towers, Caledonia's grandeur ! 
 
 And thou, lofty dome stern, rugged and grey, 
 Her glory in peace, and in strife, her defender, 
 
 Oh ! ne'er may thy battlements fall to decay !" 
 
 6. 
 
 " And never again may an enemy's gun-shot, 
 Disturb thy repose, with its force or its sound ; 
 
 And ne'er may the trumpet, 4n sounding the war 
 note, 
 Awaken thine echoes, that slumber profound."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 155 
 
 7. 
 
 "In vision arises tall Cairnsmuir, the hoary, 
 
 And under his shade, frowns the * dints of 
 Dromore, 
 
 Near which, as they tell us in old Scottish story, 
 Bruce, from English Edward, a victory tore :" 
 
 8. 
 
 "Hail, native Galloway ! friends,and old neighbours, 
 I long to partake of your sociable glee ; 
 
 Among you I come, having finish 'd my labours, 
 To wander no more from the sound of the Cree." 
 
 * Huge masses of granite (called Clints) the haunt of the eagle 
 find birds of prey.
 
 156 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 TO CHARLOTTE. 
 
 — oo — 
 
 1. 
 
 My heart is sad, yet, cannot I 
 Define the cause why it is so; 
 
 Tho' often heaves, the bursting sigh, 
 As if its core were wrung with woe ; 
 
 2. 
 And oft the brackish tear will steal 
 Unseen, adown my pallid cheek; 
 Do what I can, go where I will, 
 In vain for happiness I seek ; 
 
 3. 
 Sometimes I think her in my grasp ; 
 
 And eager, to secure the prize, 
 
 I run, her placid form to clasp; 
 
 But, like a dream, away she flies. 
 
 4. 
 
 Then say dear maid, if thou canst tell, 
 Why thus I feel afflictions dart ? — 
 
 Methinks with thee resides the spell ; 
 That comfort to me can impart.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 157 
 
 5. 
 
 Then, dearest Charlotte, wilt thou come ; 
 
 And he my love, through rough and even ? — 
 I have a warm, and cheerful home, 
 
 That wants but thee to make it Heaven '
 
 158 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 " Mild be the doom of Heaven, as thou wert mild ! 
 For ah ! thy heart, in holy mould was cast, 
 And all thy deeds were blameless, — but the last," 
 
 — 00 — 
 
 1. 
 The eve was clear, the wind was still ; 
 
 The trees did scarcely nod, 
 When Arion sped, across the hill, 
 
 Towards his love's abode. 
 
 2. 
 He shortly reach'd the trysting spot ; 
 
 Beside a crystal well, 
 A deep secluded, rural grot ; 
 
 Meet for a lover's tale. 
 
 3. 
 
 " Eliza, oh ! Eliza dear, 
 
 He said ; and sat him down, 
 
 " Thou didst appoint to meet me here ; 
 Far from the noisy town." 
 
 4. 
 
 " Can she be false ? — it cannot be ; 
 
 She ever was so kind, 
 Deceit she could not use to me ; 
 
 Seraphic is her mind !"
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 159 
 
 5. 
 
 At length a shepherd with his crook, 
 Came sauntering from the fold ; 
 
 And on the youth compassion took, 
 But sad the tale he told. 
 
 6. 
 
 " I would not give thy bosom pain, 
 
 (I call to witness heaven) 
 But for thy love, thou stray'st in vain, 
 
 For she from home is driven ;" 
 
 7. 
 
 " Ere this the hills of Kells arise, 
 Their summits ting'd with blue ; 
 
 Forming a barrier which lies, 
 Between the maid, and you." 
 
 8. 
 
 His tears were mingl'd with the dew ; 
 
 And swift as the gazelle, 
 He ran away or rather flew, 
 
 And reach'd her domicil ;
 
 160 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 9. 
 
 There all was silent, all was still, 
 
 As midnight's lonely hour ; 
 No voice was heard, save of the owl, 
 
 From Castle-Cary's tower. 
 
 10. 
 
 The gentle murmurs of the Cree, 
 
 That us'd to charm his ear, 
 In days of song and revelry, 
 
 Were dismal, now and drear. 
 
 11. 
 
 " Thou moon" he cry'd "supreme of night ; 
 
 And ruler of the flood, 
 Go, hide thyself, and veil thy light, 
 
 Behind some gloomy cloud ;" 
 
 12. 
 
 " Or light some happy rival's feet, 
 
 Along the purple heath ; 
 "Who goes Eliza fair, to greet 
 
 Upon the banks of Nith.."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 161 
 
 13. 
 
 " The sons of mirth will bless thy reign, 
 And revel 'neath thy beam ; 
 
 Shine thou on them, — but do not pain 
 Me, with one passing gleam." 
 
 14. 
 
 " On all my ways let darkness rest, 
 
 For I to woe am born, 
 Joy, I can never, never taste, 
 
 Since she is from me torn." 
 
 15. 
 
 Beside the wood, and crystal well, 
 
 He's often wandering seen ; 
 And near the place where she did dwell, 
 
 He ever walks at e'en ; 
 
 16. 
 
 And oft at midnight hour, he steals 
 Where she was wont to stray ; 
 
 And there, unseen, in sorrow wails, 
 Until the dawn of day.
 
 162 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 17. 
 
 But here I must conclude iny verse, 
 For just before my door, 
 
 Is passing by, the sable hearse, 
 That, from the flood him bore.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 163 
 
 TO MALVINA. 
 
 *' Be gentle, virgins, to the poet's prayer 
 The god that fills hirn, and the muse revere." 
 
 — OO — 
 1. 
 
 The dew of eve is falling, 
 
 On flower, on shrub, and tree ; 
 To his mate, the thrush is calling, 
 
 And I, dear life, on thee. 
 
 2. 
 By Orwell let us wander, 
 
 And view the waters glide, 
 As they peacefully meander, 
 
 To mingle with the tide. 
 
 3. 
 
 The lily is in blossom ; 
 
 And bows to kiss the stream, 
 Meet emblem of thy bosom, 
 
 If aught so pure could seem, 
 
 4. 
 
 To the eyes of thy fond lover, 
 
 Whose heart is wholly thine, 
 The core of which, shall ever, 
 
 Retain thy form divine.
 
 164 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 Fair Luna shews her cheering rays ; — 
 
 To rest are gone the bees ; 
 Sweet philomel is chaunting lays, 
 
 My lovely maid to please ; 
 6. 
 Then haste into thy lover's arms, 
 
 And press me close in thine ; 
 May heaven preserve thee from all harms, 
 
 With love sincere as mine !
 
 RHYMES AT BAND0M. 165 
 
 A BORDER SCENE. 
 
 " The gathering cry and the warning word, 
 Was, "fill the quiver and sharpen the sword." 
 
 -00- 
 
 " Arm, and to horse," the Graham call'd out; 
 
 " Arm, and to horse" resounds about, 
 
 And an hundred men arm'd cap-a-pee, 
 
 Are soon on their saddles ; — and you might see, 
 
 A look so keen, in every eye, 
 
 That seem'd the fiercest foe to defy. 
 
 But why this hurry ? I cannot tell ; 
 
 No blaze is lit on the beacon fell ; 
 
 No messenger, urging to utmost speed, 
 
 His foaming and prancing Arab steed, 
 
 Has arriv'd at the gate of " Netherby Hall," 
 
 But a pigeon has brought the following scrawl ;— 
 
 " Chief of Netherby look well out ; 
 
 BuccLEircH has taken a southward rout, 
 
 And in his train right proudly ride, 
 
 The best of the Scottish border side ; 
 
 p5
 
 166 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 *" Gildknocky has mounted, with all his men, 
 
 The Maxwells are rushing from mountain and 
 glen ; 
 
 And you would wonder at the speed, 
 
 With which the clansmen pass the Tweed ; 
 
 Keep watch to night, — else on the morrow, 
 
 If dine at all ; — 'twill be in sorrow," 
 
 Said Graham, " Gildknocky and Boccleuch ; 
 
 This bold foray shall dearly rue ; 
 
 And should it hap to be my lot, 
 
 To meet the proud, o'erbearing Scot,f 
 
 His blood, I vow shall leave a stain, 
 
 To wash out which, will take some rain." 
 
 Anxiety has banish'd sleep ; 
 
 The horsemen on their saddles keep, 
 
 And those who wield, on foot, the targe, 
 
 Stand ready for the expected charge. 
 
 The robe of night, at length, is drawn 
 
 Aside by the young morning's dawn ; 
 
 The scouts return, — but there are none 
 
 Can tell which way the Scots are gone. 
 
 ♦The chief of the Armstrongs called Gildtnocky from his seat. 
 f Sir John Scott, of Buccleuch.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. U37 
 
 Yet, all had something got to say, 
 
 Those had seen ghosts, these lost their way ; 
 
 Others encounter 'd had Will Spunk, 
 
 And, by his pranks, were led, and sunk 
 
 In the morass, up to the neck ; 
 
 And had much trouble to get back. 
 
 Day wears away ; — but, ere the sun 
 
 Had reach 'd the altitude of noon, 
 
 There came, among the eager group, 
 
 A messenger, from the Lord Scroop,* 
 
 Reporting, " that, by force and guile, 
 
 Buccleuch had entered Carlisle, f 
 
 Broke ope the Castle, and restor'd 
 
 To liberty, the most abhor 'd 
 
 Freebooter ; that e'er cross'd the Sark, 
 
 When nights were long, and cold, and dark." 
 
 Our heroes now, more warlike grew ; 
 
 And swore they would have "minclid Buccleuch, 
 
 With all his cowardly, Scottish curs ; 
 
 Whose safety lay in heels and spurs !" 
 
 * Lord Warden of the English inarches. 
 f This affair really occurred so late as the Reign of Queen Anne.
 
 16£ RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 The horsemen doff their tilting weeds ; 
 
 And, for the plough, prepare their steeds ; 
 
 The shepherds wend towards the hill, 
 
 The hedger takes his gloves and bill ; 
 The milk-maids, carol o'er the plain, 
 And " Netherby", is herself again.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 169 
 
 THE SONG OF THE BARD. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 Sleep, in vain, I've courted, 
 Many a long, and weary night ; 
 
 Visions, queer, have sported, 
 In dire array, before my sight; 
 
 2. 
 
 Sometimes black, and sometimes blue ; 
 
 Of every shape, and bearing ; 
 But all repulsive to the view, 
 
 And motley garments wearing. 
 
 3. 
 
 Around me they hover, 
 
 Like the harpy, bird of prey, 
 
 Intent, as any lover, 
 
 To seize, and bear the prize away ; 
 
 4. 
 
 And, often in the open day, 
 More fierce than bear or tiger, 
 
 They intercept my onward way ; 
 And all my paths beleager.
 
 170 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 What can annoy thus, 
 
 And place the bard in such a plight ? 
 Methinks, if I may guess, 
 
 With him the needful is not right ; 
 
 6. 
 Somnus wields his leaden rod 
 
 On rock, on tower and billow, — 
 Let him who would resist the god, 
 
 Lie on a debtor's pillow !
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 171 
 
 ON THE LATE MR. M- 
 
 " Let not this weak, and erring hand 
 
 Presume thy holts to throw ; 
 And deal damnation, round the land, 
 On each I judge thy foe." 
 
 — oo — 
 
 I. 
 
 And thou hast left this vale of sighs, 
 (Son of a strange philosophy) 
 
 Without the cheering hope, to rise 
 In glorious immortality ! 
 
 2. 
 
 Thy failings I mean not to scan 
 With bigotry ; — nor shall I e'er, 
 
 Speak disrepectful of the man, 
 Whose honesty good men revere. 
 
 3. 
 
 Meek-ey'd humanity was thine ; 
 
 For thee no creature was transfix' d ; 
 Tliy soul would sicken at rapine ; — 
 
 " Live, and let live" was thy pure text.
 
 172 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 Yet impious tongues assail thy fame ; 
 
 And point fell vengeance at thy head, 
 Altho' in all, except the name, 
 
 Thou wert a christian indeed ! 
 
 5. 
 
 What thou art now must lie in night ; 
 
 And still be theme for controversy, | 
 But, whether thou wert wrong, or right, 
 
 I trust, for thee, there's ample mercy.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 173 
 
 ON THE RECOVERY OF MRS. I N 
 
 AFTER A DANGEROUS ILLNESS. 
 
 -00- 
 
 1. 
 
 Death walk'd up stairs, and gruffly said 
 " Here's something in my way," 
 
 Then cast a look towards the bed, 
 Where Mary-Anna lay : 
 
 2. 
 A tear her lovely cheek did stain ; 
 
 Which mov'd the tyrant's pity, — 
 He went off ;— said, " I'll call again :— 
 
 She is so good and pretty !"
 
 74 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 A TALE OF SCOTTISH HOSPITALITY. 
 
 U T>. 
 
 Be not forgetful to entertain strangers : for thereby some have 
 entertained Angels unawares." 
 
 — 00 — 
 
 1. 
 
 Cold was the night, the snow fell fast; 
 
 Beneath the chilling-, northern blast, 
 
 The sturdy oaks were bending, 
 When to a clos'd, but friendly door, 
 A wandering harper, old and poor, 
 
 His dubious way was wending. 
 2. 
 From Cambria he had come afar ; 
 Encounter'd had, a wintry war, 
 
 Among the bleak Glen-kens;* 
 Now scrambling, on the mountain steep, 
 With cautious steps, the path to keep ; 
 
 Now floundering in the fens. 
 3 
 " Oh ! I have wander'd many a league ; 
 But, worn with anguish, and fatigue, 
 
 No further can 1 go ; — 
 My rags are frozen on my back ; 
 My blood is cold ;— my shoes, alack ! 
 
 Are lost among the snow." 
 
 * A rugged and mountainous district in Galloway.
 
 RHYMES AT BAND0M. 175 
 
 4. 
 
 n Old man" began the generous host, 
 " I marvel that you are not lost ; — 
 
 Come in and we shall try, 
 If Scottish cheer can soothe your woes 
 And when you would wish to repose, 
 
 Your bed is warm and dry ;" 
 
 5. 
 
 Children and servants strove, who should 
 Be in the van, of doing good ; 
 
 All labour'd to restore 
 And comfort, the unhappy wight, 
 Who had escap'd the dreary night ; 
 And treacherous, yawning moor. 
 
 6. 
 
 Supper and worship o'er* — to bed 
 A damsel, of the household, led 
 
 The now recover'd man ; 
 And as she said " God give you rest" 
 A lad upon the table plac'd 
 
 A fragrant, toddy can. 
 
 * Family worship, is the finishing of the day, among the honest 
 (Jallovidians.
 
 17() RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 ■ 
 
 7. 
 
 Sparkl'd the father's eyes with joy, 
 To find so young, and gay a boy, 
 
 To pity's call alive; 
 And the fond partner of his care, 
 To check or stop the rising tear ; 
 
 Found it was vain to strive. 
 
 8. 
 
 The morning rose, and as the sun 
 His course, blind-folded, had begun ; 
 
 Appear 'd the minstrel bard, 
 With limbs refresh'd, and spirits good ; 
 And soon before him, savoury food 
 
 Was set upon the board. 
 
 9. 
 
 But, from my tale, I must degress, 
 Yet words I have not to express, 
 
 What hungry mortals feel, 
 When just beginning to partake, 
 Of all the goodly things ; that make 
 
 A Scottish breakfast meal.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 177 
 
 10. 
 
 Twere idle to praise every dish 
 
 Of toast, and bannocks, flesh and fish, 
 
 Of whisky, tea, and ale ; — 
 It is enough, for me to say, 
 In Scotland, I'd begin the day, 
 
 If I could have my will. 
 
 11. 
 
 Another night press'd to remain ; 
 The old man took his seat a^ain, 
 
 And thus the dame address 'd; 
 " May that great Being whom I serve, 
 You, and your family preserve, 
 
 To succour the distress 'd." 
 
 12. 
 
 She thus reply'd — "the God of heaven, 
 
 To us, has an abundance given ; 
 
 Which, willingly, we share 
 
 Among the children of want ; — 
 
 For, well I know, provision scant. 
 
 Not easy is to bear." 
 Q 5
 
 178 XHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 13. 
 
 " I have felt sorrow, and distress ; 
 
 For I have heen;— but let that pass; — 
 
 Your wallet, come untie ; 
 I love much to encourage trade, 
 And sure I am, each lass and lad 
 
 Of you, will something buy." 
 
 14. 
 
 " Lady, to sell, if I had wares, 
 
 More buoyant far, would be the cares ; 
 
 That press my spirits on ; 
 My pack contains, nor woof, nor warp ; 
 Save some spare linen ; and a harp, 
 
 Of very doubtful tone." 
 
 15. 
 
 " A harp" exclaim'd the gentle dame ; 
 " And you, of course, can play the same ; 
 
 A strain, I fain would hear, 
 On that delightful instrument ; 
 Which fortune good has to us sent, 
 
 This gloomy day to cheer."
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 179 
 
 16. 
 
 His fingers soon the strings were on, 
 And floating rose "poor Mary -Ann ;" 
 
 Soft as the summer breeze, 
 That creeps the still, blue lake along ; 
 And scarcely is perceiv'd among, 
 
 The silvery aspen trees. 
 
 17. 
 
 Tears started in the lady's eyes ; 
 And Avith emotion " bard" she cries ; 
 
 "That thrilling air repeat; 
 Those seem the same heart-stirring tones ; 
 That wak'd were by " Ap Harry Jones," 
 
 Who died in Moore's retreat.*' 
 
 18. 
 
 " Ap Harry Jones," the harper said, 
 " Return d was, in the list of dead, 
 
 Who at Corunna fell ; 
 But that was not the case,— for he 
 Was only wounded in the knee, 
 
 By bursting of a shell/'
 
 180 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 19. 
 
 " Of course, he was a prisoner made, 
 
 And several years, an invalid, 
 
 With spirits broke and low, 
 Remain'd he; till Toulouse was fought 
 
 Which gave him liberty, — but fraught 
 
 With unexempl'd woe ;" 
 
 20. 
 
 " For, when to Cardiff he return'd, 
 He found his faithful wife inurn'd ; 
 
 Was lost, his only child, — 
 I trac'd her to St. David's school* 
 With weary steps, and bosom full ; 
 
 But never her beheld." 
 
 21. 
 
 " You trac'd her ? then you knew Ap Jones ; 
 Pray tell me where repose his bones, 
 
 (Oh ! I have much to ask) 
 Or does he drag on cheerless life, 
 Dispoil'd of child, bereft of wife, 
 
 Come; cmickly to your task." 
 
 * A noble institution, in London, for Orphans of Welsh Parents.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 181 
 
 22. 
 
 " The ways of Heaven to scrutinize, 
 Or by the foolish, or the wise, 
 
 Is far beyond the ken 
 Of erring creatures ; — but you see 
 All that remains of Jones in me, 
 
 For once, I was that man.'" 
 
 23. 
 
 " Omnipotence is strange indeed, 
 Who, in his providence, did lead 
 
 You to your daughter s door ; 
 The child you've lost these twenty years 
 Is now before you ; — dry your tears, 
 
 Your wanderings, now, are o'er." 
 
 24. 
 
 " Be ours the task, in life's decay, 
 To cheer the evening of your day 
 
 With filial love, and care ; 
 And you shall warlike stories tell 
 With incidents, that you befell, 
 
 In service most severe."
 
 182 RHYMEMS AT RANDOM. 
 
 25. 
 
 " Your sweet companion, on the way, 
 Your harp shall yet your touch obey ; 
 
 And, on an early day, 
 I will relate how, where, and when 
 My Walter found ine, — best of men, 
 
 In matchless Galloway !"
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 183 
 
 THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 -■what mortal hand, 
 
 Shall e*er untie the filial hand, > 
 
 Tbat knits me to thy rugged strand!" ) 
 
 — 00 — 
 
 1. 
 
 Scotia. ! how can I forget thy deep vallies, 
 
 And hills clad with verdure, refreshing and green ; 
 Thy lakes, that are kiss'd by the fair water lilies ; 
 
 Thy rills, brooks and rivers ; ador'd soon as seen. 
 
 2. 
 To gaze on the forest, that crowns the steep mountain, 
 
 Contemplate the ruins of old feudal clays 
 Are pleasures, those bound to the plains, may not 
 count on ; 
 
 And theme far too grand, and sublime for my lays ! 
 
 3. 
 Would'st wish to enjoy undisturb'd, melancholy; 
 
 Traverseher wild moors ;— view the warrior's cairn;* 
 But touch not that mound, — the heath on it is holy; — 
 
 Tis the grave of the f martyr, and patriot stern ! 
 
 * The wilds of Scotland ahound with large piles of loose 
 stones thrown together : called '• Cairns ;" when examined they 
 are always found to contain stone coffins, bones, fragments of 
 amis &.c. 
 
 + .Many are the graves, of those who fell by the accursed 
 hands of persecution, to he found in the lone glens, whither tluy 
 had retired, to praise God, according to conscience; but were 
 surprised and slaughtered !
 
 184 RHYMES AT RANDOM. „ 
 
 4. 
 
 See the * circle of stones, to commemorate some event 
 No doubt, of importance in some ancient day : 
 
 Oil ! do not deface them,— the time would be ill spent, 
 And sacrilege to bear one fragment away. 
 
 5. 
 
 Land of my fathers ! an halo of glory 
 
 Encircles thee, far more resplendent, I ween, 
 
 Than aught that we read of, in eastern story, 
 Eclipsing the Greek, Roman, and Carthagen' ! 
 
 6. 
 
 Perhaps I may ne'er see thy towers, c Castle-Cary ;* 
 Nor climb the green braes of the ' Burns or the 
 Mark; f 
 
 But them I'll remember, till in Charon's wherry 
 To cruise over Lethe, my soul shall embark. 
 
 * " My fame is in the four grey stones." Ossian. 
 f Two farms on which the Ploughman was hred
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 185 
 
 THE WOES OF A " GOOD FELLOW." 
 
 " Think, ye may buy your joys owre dear." 
 
 — 00 — 
 
 1. 
 
 When fumes of strong liquor are gone, 
 And reason remounteth her throne, 
 The wight, who is given to roam, 
 Will find little comfort at home. 
 
 2. 
 
 Your purse, which a short time before, 
 Contain'd fifty sovereigns or more 
 You find now are vanish'd, — for chance 
 Has converted them into half-pence ! 
 
 3. 
 
 You feel your watch-pocket, and lo ! 
 Its tenant (a wonder to go) 
 Has left its accustom'd abode, 
 And started on some other road. 
 
 4. 
 
 Perhaps, there may pass o'er the mind 
 A friend, who was trusty, and kind, — 
 Who soon pops his head in, to know 
 The reason, you give him a blow. 
 
 R
 
 185 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 The business is far worse, in case 
 He has brought with him, pistols a brace, 
 And modestly, asks you to " choose 
 The one, you would like best to use." 
 
 6. 
 
 In steps little Jacky, and says, 
 " Poor mother is ill, and she prays, 
 That you will at home keep to day ; 
 As many small bills are to pay ;" 
 
 7. 
 
 "Tom Rackem, the Landlord, has sent, 
 And is coming, at twelve, for his rent, — 
 A traveller, — oh, see here his card, — 
 Now, there — he's come into the yard." 
 
 8. 
 
 Poor devil ! I see you look blue, 
 And would fain ask the bard, what to do 
 To get out of this terrible muddle ; 
 And keep from such horrible trouble.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 187 
 
 9. 
 
 Ease sail at once ; — nor try to kill 
 Reflection, in one other gill ; 
 Give up your worthless, wild connexion, 
 And learn the use of self inspection. 
 
 10. 
 
 Continue this for twelve months, — when, 
 Should you not be yourself again, 
 (Your wife and children, to preserve) 
 Go, hang yourself, as you deserve!
 
 188 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 ON A NOISY REPUBLICAN, 
 
 WHO FLED FROM PARIS, ON THE FIRST OF THE 
 "THREE DAYS." 
 
 " Call ye this backing your friends 1 
 A plague on all such backers !" 
 
 — 00 — 
 1. 
 
 The Paris heroes had a right to count on 
 
 An ally, in our clever Mr. G n ; 
 
 But, when the battle yell began to rise, 
 His heart went pit-a-pat, and off he flies. 
 
 2. 
 
 Right glad am I, he form'd the resolution 
 To run, from bullets and from revolution ; 
 For I protest, so well a furnish 'd head, 
 Ought not to rest among the vulgar dead : 
 
 3. 
 
 For are we not night after night instructed, 
 By his superior mind ? — which is directed 
 To the most honourable of all pursuits, — 
 The getting up political disputes ! 
 
 4. 
 
 Then let us prize the blessings we enjoy; 
 
 For, bear in mind, few are without alloy, 
 
 And thank the gods, that when the French revolted, 
 
 Our very wordy friend took fright and bolted!
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 189 
 
 SONG. 
 
 -oo- 
 
 1. 
 
 My pretty, pretty maiden, the sun's getting low, 
 The shadows of eve are beginning to grow, 
 The beetle is humming, the lambs skip the dell, 
 Come, let us have a stroll to the " Old Heath Bell ;" 
 
 2. 
 
 My arms round thy waist I will closely entwine, 
 And press thy dear bosom, so fondly to mine ; 
 And stories of love, in the ear, I will tell 
 Of my dearest little maid, at the " Old Heath Bell ;" 
 
 3. 
 
 The juice of the vine shall enliven our chat; 
 We'll talk of our wedding, of this and of that, 
 And plan another meeting, by the clear crystal well, 
 A very little way from the " Old Heath Bell." 
 
 4. 
 
 With hearts overflowing we'll vow to be true ; 
 
 And none, but chaste Luna shall see what we do ; 
 
 No mortal must gaze on thy snowy bosom's swell, 
 
 Save thy own devoted lover, at the " Old Heath Bell." 
 
 r5
 
 190 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 5. 
 
 The wealthy and proud may parade in vain state, 
 But, poor tho' I be, I can pity their fate ; 
 For who, for the mines of Golconda would sell, 
 A Gloamin so bless'd, at the " Old Heath Bell !"
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 191 
 
 THE ADVENT OF BRUCE. 
 
 " Dreams descend from Jove." 
 — OO — 
 
 1. 
 
 " Oh liberty where is thy spirit fled ? 
 Sleep'st thou, or art thou resting with the dead : 
 If thou art vital, soon this bugle's sound 
 Shall break thy lethargy, howe'er profound." 
 
 2. 
 Thus said the Brcce, and blew a blast ; — 
 The startl'd deer fled off aghast, 
 
 The wild-duck of the spring, 
 The heron, plover, and moor-cock ; 
 With birds of prey that haunt the rock, 
 Are cpuckly on the wing. 
 3. 
 Alarm'd, the sheep in clusters ran, 
 And wond'ring gaz'd, intent to scan 
 
 The object of their dread ; 
 Goats, in their native freedom strong, 
 From cliff to cliff, bounded along, 
 
 With firm and fearless tread.
 
 192 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 4. 
 
 The warder on the castle wall, 
 
 Of stern Loch-raahen, heard the call ; 
 
 And answer'd, in such strain, 
 That echo with her iron lungs, 
 Repeated on her hundred tongues, 
 
 " The Bruce is come to reign." 
 
 5. 
 
 Down went draw-bridge, portcullis rose, 
 
 And, safe beyond the reach of foes, 
 
 The hero sought in sleep, 
 To renovate his shatter'd frame ; 
 
 For many were the miles he came 
 By rugged ways, and steep. 
 6. 
 
 « 
 
 Scarce were his limbs to rest compos'd ; 
 And ere his eyes were fairly clos'd, 
 
 Arose before his sight, 
 A figure, of a noble mien. 
 Such as by Carron* he had seen, 
 
 In Falkirk's-f- deadly fight. 
 
 * The noble Wallace, 
 f Where the Scots sustain'd a terrible defeat
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 193 
 
 7. 
 Pale was his face, his looks demure 
 As one, who had long to endure 
 
 The buffetting, and blows 
 Of fortune, who in testy mood, 
 Does oft afflict the wise and good, 
 
 With soul consuming woes. 
 
 8. 
 A mantle scarlet, green, and blue, 
 Around his chest, he closely drew ; 
 
 His knees athletic bare, 
 A bonnet blue, upon his head, 
 By eagle plumage, over-spread, 
 
 That floated in the air. 
 
 9. 
 He wbisper'd — " Sleeps the mighty Bruce, 
 Is he in amity and truce, 
 
 With treason dark and fell ? 
 Foes by impunity increase ; — 
 Beware ' Grey Friars' of Dumfries, 
 
 Where plann'd are deeds of hell.'
 
 194 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 10. 
 
 Up rose the king, and took the way, 
 Resolv'd the convent to survey, 
 
 Whatever might betide ; 
 With him Kirkpatrick went along, 
 Of purpose firm and sinews strong, 
 
 The issue to abide. 
 
 11. 
 
 The monks, with seeming pious zeal, 
 Declar'd their house did not conceal, 
 
 To Scotland's cause a foe ; — 
 The Bruce would search, and quickly found, 
 The Cummin Red,* — whom to the ground, 
 
 He fell'd with deadly blow. 
 
 * Cummin, called the Red, laid claim to the crown of Scotland; 
 but lost his life, by the hand of Bruce, in the Grey Friars' con- 
 vent of Dumfries.
 
 RHYMES AT RANDOM. 195 
 
 TO MY WIFE. 
 
 " Sweetner of life ! — I owe thee much j 
 Far more hast thou deserv'd of me, 
 Than I can ever pay." 
 
 — oo 
 
 Lovely partner of my bed ; 
 Let me lay mine aching head, 
 On thy snowy, faithful breast, 
 And soothe me, with a song, to rest. 
 I've ador'd thee, since the streak 
 Of woman-hood, dawned on tby cheek 
 Altho' thou art a matron grown, 
 And many years hast been mine own, 
 Yet I love thee, not the less, 
 Than when I first did thee caress. 
 Years are gathering on my brow ; 
 I have been, what I am not now ; 
 Rankling care has fix'd his dart, 
 Steep'd in venom, in my heart; 
 But, through every changing scene, 
 That, in life's journey I have been, 
 Thou, to me, art still the same 
 As when, first to my arms you came.
 
 196 XHTMES AT RANDOM. 
 
 Heaven, out of wonderous love, 
 Seeing, that the Fates had wove 
 Full of thorns, my thread of life ; 
 Made me happy with a Wife : 
 Ever constant, ever kind, 
 To my failings nearly blind ! 
 
 THE END.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Dedication - - - - - -3 
 
 To Allan Cunningham - - - - - - 5 
 
 To the Memory of Dr. Brown - - - 7 
 
 To my Schoolmaster - - - 9 
 
 The Old Emigrant - - - - 12 
 
 A Song - - - - 14 
 
 A Ballad - - . . . 10 
 
 The Fisherman's Wife - - 22 
 
 An Address to the Dark Prince - - 24 
 
 Epistle to Mr. Blencowi - - - - - 2<i 
 
 To Miss 1' ..... 28 
 
 TO the Memory of Miss P - - - -J'.) 
 
 A Turkish War Song .... 30 
 
 The Bereaved Husband - - - - - 31 
 
 The Maid of Erin - - 32
 
 198 INDEX 
 
 PACE 
 
 To Poland - - - 33 
 
 A Prayer - - - 35 
 
 Invocation to Sleep - - 36 
 
 Early Recollections - 38 
 
 To the Owl - - ... 40 
 
 To my Native Country - -42 
 
 To the Lady of G. R., Esq. - - 43 
 
 To Hannah - - ... 44 
 
 To Woman - - - 46 
 
 The Dying Lover - - - - - 49 
 
 Epistle To - - - - - 50 
 
 To my Cottage - - 52 
 
 To Her ... ... 53 
 
 To Mary - - .... 54 
 
 The Appointment - - - - - 56 
 
 The disconsolate Lover - - - - 58 
 
 The Deadly Sin - - - 60 
 
 The French and English - - - - 61 
 
 The English Soldier in France - - - 63 
 
 To Laura - - - - - ti 1 
 
 To a would-he' Comforter - - - - 66 
 
 The Betrothed - - 67 
 
 To Hannah - .... 68 
 
 French War Song - - - - - - 70 
 
 Reflections - - - - - - 72 
 
 To Jessy - - .... 74 
 
 Sensibility - - - - - - 75 
 
 The Ex-Alderman's Pigs . „ - - - 77 
 
 To a wellknovn Detractor - - 7fl
 
 INDEX. 199 
 
 PAG E 
 
 To Mary - - - - - 80 
 
 To - - - 82 
 
 The Fisherman at Midnight - 8b' 
 
 The Poet's Bride - - - 88 
 
 To the Children of Toil - - - - 89 
 
 A Tale of Civil War - - - 91 
 
 To a Brother Bard in Misfortune - - 94 
 
 A Song ... - 96 
 
 To a Sonnetteer - - - - 98 
 
 To Mrs. ..... 99 
 
 The Infant School - - - 101 
 
 On the Death of a beautiful Girl - - - 10:3 
 
 Epistle to Dr. M - - 101 
 
 To Mr. J. Gass - - 106 
 
 The reclaimed Husband - - - - - 108 
 
 The Stranger - - 109 
 
 Epistle to H. Tufnell Esq. M. p. Ill 
 
 Epistle of Sir A. Agncw - 1 13 
 
 The real Second Sight - - 1 15 
 
 To Sir G. H. Smyth, Bart. M. p. - -116 
 
 A Song - - - - 117 
 
 On the rejection of the Catholic Relief Bill - 119 
 
 To Mrs. - - - - - - - 121 
 
 On Poland . - 12:} 
 
 To Eliza - - - - - 125 
 
 A Morning Exercise for the Infant School - - 1 27 
 
 To Mary - - - - -129 
 
 A Conservative Song - - - 13 1 
 
 Epistle to Mr. Bruce - - - 13:3
 
 200 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Helen's Lament ----- 136 
 
 To T Ph , Esq. - - 138 
 
 To the Fair Sex - 140 
 
 On a Surveyor of Taxes - - - - - 142 
 
 On a Faded Rose - - - - 143 
 
 To the Maid of Creta - - 145 
 
 To Anna - - - - 147 
 
 To Dispondency - - 149 
 
 To Miss B n - - - - 151 
 
 Upon a Pedantic Editor - - 152 
 
 The Student's Farewell to Edinburgh - 153 
 
 To Charlotte - - - . - *66 
 
 A Ballad - - - 158 
 
 To Malvina - - I 63 
 
 A Border Scene - - 1*>5 
 
 The Song of the Bard - - K* 9 
 
 On the late Mr. M - - 171 
 
 On the Recovery of Mrs. I n - 173 
 
 A Tale of Scottish Hospitality - - 174 
 
 The Home of my Childhood - - 1S3 
 
 The Woes of a Good Fellow - 185 
 
 On a Noisy Republican - - - 188 
 
 Song - - - 189 
 
 The Advent of Bruce - - - - 191 
 To my Wife ------ 195 
 
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