THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 U]r 

 
 THE RUSTIC WREATH. 
 
 POEMS, 
 
 MORAL, DESCRIPTIVE, & MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 By THOMAS LISTER, 
 
 BARNSLKY. 
 
 LEEDS : 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY ANTHONY PICKARD, 
 
 CROSS-COURT, TOP OF BRIGGATE ; 
 
 AND SOLD BY 
 DARTOX AND HARVEY, LOVDOK. 
 
 1S34.
 
 
 TO VISCOUNT MORPETH. 
 
 THIS VOLUME OF ORIGINAL POEMS 
 
 IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 BY HIS HUMBLE ADMIRER 
 
 AND EARNEST WELL-WISHER, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 764376
 
 ADDRESS TO THE SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 TO you who have so kinu\\ aided me with your free support, 
 I tender my most hearty thanks — the best return which an 
 Author has to bestow. So long as I duly estimate the en- 
 couragement you have given to me — so long as I know the 
 value of a few well-timed words, generously spoken in my 
 recommendation, — your unlooked-for kindness will command 
 my gratitude. It only remains for me to express in the usual 
 manner, my ardent hope that your sanction has not been idly 
 and undeservedly bestowed. 
 
 To those who, from principle, have avowed some little 
 objection to giving me their aid, lest kindness might prove 
 an injury, I honestly say. that it" their motives are good, 
 which they alone can know by examination, I can appreciate 
 their good-will — they are entitled to my sincere esteem : if 
 aught but a kind and Christian spirit has dictated any part of 
 the many admonitions I have received on taking this step, I 
 recommend to them as the most effectual guide to a right 
 judgment, strict inward research and self-amendment. 
 
 When I consider that I am submitting the effusions of 
 young inexperience, to the notice of so widely-extended a cir-
 
 VJ. TO THE SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 cle of readers, amongst whom every shade and extreme of 
 opinion, and all classes of people may be found ; I must de- 
 clare that every step which I take towards so important a tri- 
 bunal, is attended with a secret fearfulness and mistrust. I 
 am fully aware of the responsibility in which I am placing 
 myself, and of the many evils to which I am, and shall 
 be exposed ; I am sensible of the great imperfections of my 
 Work, and I never was more so than I am at present : I 
 can only request those individuals who, as their minds may be 
 constituted, will regard the subjects of my choice in a differ- 
 ent light from myself, to examine the grounds on which my 
 sentiments rest, and to judge with candour, ere they con- 
 demn. I can more readily allow them to say that I have 
 been mistaken in my views, than that I have knowingly ex- 
 aggerated a fact or perverted a truth. 
 
 The merit of my Poetry I leave altogether as a matter of 
 opinion ; the tendency of it, I trust, is not injurious. In ac- 
 cordance with a scriptural admonition, I earnestly wish, in 
 conclusion, that not only my small talent, but that the en- 
 dowments and energies of all men, may be more fully and 
 generally exercised in promoting the growth of every good 
 principle, in advancing the comfort and moral elevation of 
 the human race, that so in charity and peace with each 
 other, we may all combine to fulfil the glorious design of 
 our Creator. 
 
 THOMAS LISTER. 
 
 3rd Mo., 1834.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 A Detail of the circumstances which have oc- 
 casioned this volume to be added to the long list 
 of similar publications, will, it is hoped, form 
 its best apology ; and conduce, in some degree, 
 to secure to its Author, the patience and can- 
 dour of those who may deem themselves entitled 
 to sit in judgment on his labours. The follow- 
 ing short Introduction, with some little altera- 
 tion, is drawn up for the author by a literary 
 friend. 
 
 Thomas Lister, whose homely effusions 
 are now offered to the indulgent inspection of his 
 numerous supporters, furnishes another instance, 
 in addition to the many our country has pro-
 
 Vlll. INTRODUCTION. 
 
 duced, of the power of the simplest elements of 
 sound knowledge implanted in the infant breast 
 and fostered by habits of reflection, to expand 
 and ripen, as well in the humblest recess of the 
 vale of poverty as in the abode of competence, 
 or the mansion of splendour. 
 
 Our rustic bard was lured by the charms 
 of Nature, which luxuriate in his native valley, 
 and by the trains of contemplation to which ex- 
 isting events prompted him, to indulge in the 
 sweet seducements of Poesy, before he had ac- 
 quired almost any acquaintance with the proud- 
 est and least perishable of her songs. Without 
 having taken the privilege which, to a certain 
 extent is allowable, of benefiting by the perusal 
 of other authors, — possessing but a slight know- 
 ledge of the rules of composition, and still less 
 of the laws which regulate the standard of taste ; 
 — lie has composed, chiefly while pursuing his 
 daily toils in the open air, many productions 
 which have found favour amongst those who 
 know him, and have excited a warm interest in 
 various parts of the country. Even criticism.
 
 INTRODUCTION. IX. 
 
 may find an excuse to avert her withering frown 
 from what she might otherwise have been justified 
 in considering as an unpruned crudity of style. 
 This blemish a wider range of study and better 
 directed taste may ultimately correct. 
 
 One of the first subjects which called for 
 the exercise of his powers, was the departure of 
 his three brothers to America, during a period of 
 great commercial depression. Six years he had 
 suffered to pass by, unimproved, with regard to 
 mental advancement ; — from the time of leaving 
 Ackworth School to the attainment of his twen- 
 tieth year, a dearth of any thing excellent ap- 
 pears to have reigned in his mind. But re- 
 flections on the expatriation of his brethren, 
 gave birth to a Poetical Essay, in which, with 
 all the ardour of a young politician, he enters 
 boldly upon concerns of great moment ; — sub- 
 jects which years of enquiry and debate cannot 
 fathom, so as to give a satisfactory decision upon 
 their merits. Since that period, without making 
 a task of what should be a delight, he has oc- 
 casionallv written other Poems of a varied kind ;
 
 X. INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and as all of these, from that diversity, have 
 shared the approval of some mind that was con- 
 genial, he has at length been induced to make 
 them known to a wider circle. 
 
 These introductory remarks cannot close 
 better than by adverting to a circumstance, pro- 
 minently connected with the subject, which it 
 becomes the duty of the editor to mention. 
 
 Some time after his " warblings wild" had 
 attracted the notice of his townsmen, and parti- 
 cularly of James Porter, Esq., of Park-House, 
 his warmest advocate and weightiest supporter, 
 a vacancy occurred in the office of Post-Master, 
 at Barnsley, his native town. The appointment 
 of a successor rested with Lord Morpeth, who 
 had taken great interest in the welfare of this 
 rising mart of an important branch of British 
 commerce, — the linen manufacture. His lord- 
 ship, remembering the youthful bard who had 
 been introduced to him during the election for 
 Yorkshire, generously nominated him to the 
 office, and was seconded in his choice by the
 
 INTRODUCTION. XI. 
 
 principal inhabitants of the town. But an 
 insuperable obstacle prevented the fulfilment 
 of his wishes. An oath was then by law re- 
 quired, previous to instalment in a goverment 
 office. Though the contrast between the ma- 
 nagement of a horse and cart, and the occupa- 
 tion of a profitable situation was greatly in fa- 
 vour of the latter, yet, by Thomas Lister the 
 place could only be filled at the sacrifice of prin- 
 ciple. He had been trained up under the eye of 
 honest and revered parents in the principles of* 
 the Society of Friends, and the taking of an oath 
 would, in his view, have been a violation of the 
 spirit of a plain command of our Saviour. 
 
 His decision, communicated without loss of 
 time to the noble lord, who, in the true spirit of 
 his illustrious ancestors had stretched forth his 
 fostering arms to shelter modest merit, will best 
 appear from a perusal of the following corre- 
 spondence which took place between them ; 
 and which is now published by his lordship's 
 permission, to remain, it is hoped, a record mu- 
 tually honourable to both.
 
 XII. INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Barnsley, 12th Mo., 19th, 1832. 
 To Viscount Morpeth, 
 
 The emotions of astonishment immediately 
 succeeding the disclosure of this great additional kind- 
 ness which thou art desirous to confer upon me, are 
 now wholly absorbed in the deep glow of gratitude. 
 Thanks, which my rude language cannot declare with 
 sufficient fervour, arise from my heart unto thee, my 
 noble and disinterested friend ; who, amid the ardu- 
 ous and trying duties of an exalted station, hast long 
 silently meditated the welfare of a being so unworthy 
 as myself. 
 
 Should this providential arrangement succeed, I 
 hope that I shall be able, through Divine favour, to 
 occupy the allotted station to the satisfaction of the 
 public, and to the peace of my own mind, 
 Believe me, 
 Thy sincerely grateful and obliged friend, 
 
 THOMAS LISTER. 
 
 Castle-Howard, Dec. 28th, 1832. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 I feel the most sincere regret in announcing 
 to you that I have just been acquainted by the Post- 
 Master General, that he cannot appoint any person to
 
 INTRODUCTION. Xlll. 
 
 the office of Post-Master, who declines to take the 
 Oath of Office. I am afraid that there is no ground 
 for hoping that you can waive scruples which I must 
 honour, though I cannot enter into them. 
 
 I am sorry for the false hopes which must have 
 been raised in you, and which expressed themselves so 
 feelingly in your letter to me ; I am still more sorry 
 for my entire want of power to serve a person whom 
 I must continue to regard with increased interest and 
 esteem. 
 
 At my request, the Duke of Richmond has re- 
 turned the Memorial in your favour, and I will direct it 
 to be forwarded by the coach ; you may like to preserve 
 it as a gratifying mark of the estimation in which you 
 are held by your fellow-townsmen, and as a record 
 that your general conduct deserved, though your par- 
 ticular principles did not permit you to obtain, success. 
 I remain. 
 
 Your faithful friend, 
 
 MORPETH. 
 
 Barnsley, 12th Mo., 29th, 1832. 
 To Viscount Morpeth, 
 
 After the perusal of thy consolatory lines, 
 permit me a second time to acknowledge, how deeply
 
 XIV. INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I am bound in obligation to thee, for thy earnest soli- 
 citude on my behalf. 
 
 On the rejection of the advantageous offer which 
 has been made to me, I could not have expected so 
 cheering a testimony of regard ; neither did I look for 
 so favourable a construction upon, what may be termed, 
 my superstitious scruples — by adherence to which, I 
 have excited considerable displeasure among some of 
 my well-wishers. 
 
 No one can more regret than myself the impera- 
 tive ordinance, which compels me to throw away so 
 great a favour — but this regret cannot overpower my 
 serenity. I would not be here understood as aping 
 the philosopher, or making a boast of my integrity. 
 I dare not lay claim to any merit in the esteem of men, 
 or in the eye of Heaven, from having conscientiously 
 abided by the principles of my forefathers ; — yet I am 
 convinced, that a cool deviation from what I believe 
 to be a positive duty, would have embittered every 
 sensation of delight, and every comfort, which bright- 
 ening fortune might have placed in my power. 
 
 I am very desirous to remove the painful impres- 
 sions which thy kind epistle declares, are felt on my 
 account. I am favoured to bear resignedly this stroke 
 of disappointment. Knowing the fading nature of all
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV. 
 
 earthly prospects, I suffered not my hopes to rise 
 above my control. Sufficient time has been allowed 
 me to contemplate a reverse ; in consequence I am not 
 so deeply depressed in spirits, now that an unforeseen 
 obstacle has frustrated the accomplishment of a de- 
 sirable object. 
 
 Ashamed that I have been the unhappy cause of 
 trouble and anxiety to many, — warmly sensible of the 
 generous exertions which have been made to promote 
 my welfare, — and trusting that I may never forfeit the 
 good opinion which is too lavishly entertained of me, 
 I have the honour to subscribe myself, 
 Thy obliged friend, 
 
 THOMAS LISTER.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 O.V THE CULTIVATION OF THE INTELLECTUAL Fa- 
 
 CU LTIES, x J X • 
 
 The Rustic Reasoners, 
 
 Ansella, 12 
 
 The Yorkshire Hirings, 23 
 
 The Home-expelled Britons, 4-0 
 
 General Meeting at Ackwortii School, .50 
 
 Eymin g-Wood Fields, 59 
 
 Greenfield Hills, 64 
 
 1 rish Wan derer, 
 
 Triumph of Pure Love over Difficulty, 73 
 
 Reflections, 82 
 
 Tribute of Consolation, 91 
 
 Wreck of the Rothsay-Castle, 97 
 
 W \il of the Profligate, 101 
 
 Poland's Last Struggle, i<»^
 
 XV111. CONTEXTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 True Friendship, Ill 
 
 Ode to Humanity, 113 
 
 The Happy Surprise, 117 
 
 A Glance at Studley and Hackfall, 121 
 
 Farewell to Pinder Oaks, 129 
 
 Welcome to a Golden Gift, 132 
 
 To an Early Friend on a long Separation, ... 137 
 
 Tribute to the Genius of Burns, 141 
 
 On the Loss of a Promising Youth, 144 
 
 ToM , 146 
 
 David's Lamentation, 149 
 
 Reproof of a Worldly Spirit, (Eccles. v.) ... 151 
 
 Honey Well, 154 
 
 Morning Contemplations, 156 
 
 On the Observatory at Monk-Bretton, near 
 
 Barnsley, 161 
 
 On arriving at Manhood, 165 
 
 On the Death of Dr. Oxley, 174 
 
 A Prayer, 176 
 
 The Emigrant Mother to her First-born, 180 
 
   
 Subscribers' Names, 185
 
 ON THE CULTIVATION OF THE IN- 
 TELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 
 
 (WRITTEN FOR AN ESSAY MEETING.) 
 
 IN this age of public discussion, and private enquiry, 
 when all subjects interesting - to human reason, and 
 dear to the feelings of our nature, are brought before 
 our eyes in every variety of form, distinguished by 
 every shade of ability, — whether the laboured work of 
 the deep-thoughted philosopher or the momentary ef- 
 fusion of the humble essay writer; — at this remarkable 
 period, teeming with information, a further excitement 
 given to the desire for intellectual improvement, already 
 so powerfully manifested, may be deemed uncalled-for 
 and unnecessary. 
 
 But, where knowledge is infused, and faculties are 
 awakened in a mind, which before was uninformed and 
 in a great measure inactive, it naturally follows that 
 such a mind, happily aroused from an inglorious re- 
 pose, will be actuated by a generous impulse to com- 
 municate to others the new-found sources of wonder
 
 xx - ON THE CULTIVATION OF 
 
 and delight. Where an Essay, ushered into being un- 
 der circumstances like these, eventually fails to gain 
 the merit of a well-arranged, well-finished composi- 
 tion, many will charitably withhold censure, and some 
 will even be disposed to admire that enthusiasm which 
 impels the young aspirant to aim at an important re- 
 sult, which his limited powers do not permit him to 
 reach. 
 
 Nothing new is here presented to the reader. The 
 object of this article is to enforce, by repetition in a 
 compressed manner, lessons of wisdom which must 
 have been often expressed before, by some of those 
 deep thinkers, and accurate reasoners, whose well- 
 read volumes proclaim the value of their authors. 
 
 When a disposition to cultivate the nobler endow- 
 ments of our race is manifested, and especially by 
 young people, no impediment "should be allowed to 
 to check the way of improvement; — but, on the con- 
 trary, every care should be taken to foster, those de- 
 sires, where mental enjoyments are preferred to the 
 mere pleasures of sense, by all, who either from the 
 force of example, or the influence of authority, can 
 exercise a direct control in the formation of cha- 
 racter. 
 
 This disposition, under the control of sound rea-
 
 THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. XXI. 
 
 son, wandering not beyond a proper limit, nor pursu- 
 ing aught which may prejudice interests of higher mo- 
 ment, has often been the means of securing to its pos- 
 sessor, sources of the purest delight, — has often been 
 instrumental in counteracting or alleviating, many of 
 the bitter evils which so blightingly assail the wander- 
 ers of a changeful scene. 
 
 Who, that is conscious of the dignity of man,, 
 above the subordinate creation ; — who, that feelingly 
 knows the value of that unlimited mind which a bene- 
 ficent Creator has conferred upon him, can bear with 
 patience the presence of that individual, however 
 comely in person and goodly in array, who mingles 
 unblushingly amongst his species, but scarcely dis- 
 plays more intelligence than the grazing tenants of 
 the field ? What different feelings do they excite in 
 our minds, who have not lived altogether unprofita- 
 bly, nor despised the distinguishing prerogative which 
 elevates man above the irrational world ? In their 
 sweet hours of leisure, they have laudably endeavoured 
 to store up treasures in the capacious chambers of the 
 soul, which will not be disturbed in the rude visita- 
 tions of calamity, nor rifled amidst all the changes of 
 an uncertain state. They have if in their power to 
 make themselves agreeably instructive whilst sitting 
 in " sweet society," exchanging mutual advantages 
 with their fellow beings. With them frivolity will
 
 XX11. ON THE CULTIVATION OF 
 
 be discarded, and slander shut out. The conversation 
 need not. flow heavily, nor the hours move wearily. 
 
 When this privilege of seeking delight in the com- 
 pany of others is denied to them, they have still valu- 
 able resources of which the dull world knows nothing. 
 In every situation they can find some agreeable object, 
 some instructive companion, as their genius or natural 
 disposition may lead them. The glories of Nature 
 and the triumphs of art, are laid open for their inspec- 
 tion. In the closet, their bosom friends are the elo- 
 quent and the wise, of all times. 
 
 If they walk beyond the precincts of bustling life, 
 how abundant the tranquil joys which await them ! 
 The earth, our present abode, — its diversified figure 
 and grand conformation,' — the rich treasures it contains 
 — the plants and verdure which crown its surface, 
 from the storm-defying king of the forest, to the mo- 
 dest floweret that smiles beneath the hedge-row — the 
 animals, various in their forms as different in their 
 habits, which dwell on the ground or sport in the rest- 
 less flood, and the active beings which joy in a lighter 
 element, making with ease their path in the air, and 
 .stooping only to earth to appease their wants and in- 
 dulge their pleasures ; — these creations of an intelligent, 
 all-ruling Mind, revealed without restraint to the gaze 
 of his humblest children, invite to calm and pleasing
 
 \ 
 
 THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. XX111. 
 
 investigation. At one view, as a whole they irresisti- 
 bly awaken a general admiration, while each has at- 
 tractions of its own kind, claims individual attention, 
 and yields to the votary of research its own peculiar 
 reward. 
 
 There are still nobler studies, furnished by the 
 experience and learning of past ages, the observations 
 of the present time, and the sure revelation of God : — 
 the study of promoting as far as our power enables 
 us to do so, the comfort and happiness of our fellow- 
 beings — and the higher study of learning the will of 
 our Heavenly Ruler, and obeying its injunctions with 
 zeal and sincerity. 
 
 To these all other things must be subservient. On 
 these all-involving objects, the designs of Omnipo- 
 tence centre : for this end the powers of thought and 
 of reason were conferred upon man, and by the right 
 employment of these gifts will man secure the eternal 
 triumph of the mind. 
 
 T. L.
 
 P O E M S . 
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS; 
 
 A SUPPOSED CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO SWAINS, TA- 
 KING PLACE IN THE GARRET OF AN OLD FARM-HOUSE. 
 THE TIME IS DAY-BREAK IN SUMMER. NEITHER 
 THEY NOR THEIR SENTIMENTS ARE ALTOGETHER 
 IMAGINARY. ONE, WHO IS MORE POLISHED AND BET- 
 TER INFORMED THAN THE OTHER, I CALL TOM HIS 
 
 DULL COMPANION, JOE. 
 
 TOM, 
 
 Wake ! slumbering mortal, from thy dull repose, 
 Light, o'er the gloom, her first faint mantle throws, 
 While through each pane and chink her arrows dart. 
 She bids soft sleep and airy dreams depart ; 
 
 B
 
 -■i THE RUSTIC REASONERs. 
 
 The feather'd choir, to hail the rising morn, 
 Their anthems pour from every blossom'd thorn, 
 Loud, from his perch, shrill-throated Chanticleer 
 Proclaims, with joy, the orb of day is near : 
 Let us, like them, the bonds of sleep disdain, 
 And cheerful toil in bright Aurora's train. 
 
 JOE. 
 
 Tormenting youth, to pinch and pull me thus, 
 Let go my arm, — why make this needless fuss 
 To rouse me, from my peaceful sleep, so soon ? 
 Thy fancied sun will only prove the moon ; 
 That voice of birds is but the nightingale's, 
 Whose pleasing note through night's dull reign pre- 
 vails: 
 Think not to rise at this untimely hour, 
 But yield once more to slumber's lingering power. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 Forbear such nonsense, — are my senses fled, 
 
 Or, like thy own, by stupid error led ? 
 
 Dost thou suppose I cannot judge aright, 
 
 Betwixt the moonbeam and the sun's glad light ? — 
 
 The notes of Philomela, and the song 
 
 Of daylight birds, the neighbouring trees among ?
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 3 
 
 That morn is near, all sounds, all objects show, 
 
 But, who so dull, as they who will not know ? 
 
 Lo ! there the sun-saluting lark upsprings, 
 
 And warbles blithe, while pois'd on steady wings ; 
 
 The blackbird whistles in the garden-bush, 
 
 In yonder wood I hear the mellow thrush, 
 
 Fly-chasing swallows try their fleetest speed, 
 
 And, twittering 'neath the eaves, their nestlings 
 
 feed ; 
 The linnet swells its simple notes around, 
 With the full chorus fields and groves resound :— 
 To song or toil, each self-taught power 's applied, 
 Some, homes construct, — some, nourishment pro- 
 vide, 
 By instinct led, a never-erring guide ; 
 They, with the bees, now humming forth below, 
 Of art and skill, the fairest emblems show. 
 
 JOE. 
 
 Unless it be the humming, minstrel art, 
 To thee their tasks no lesson will impart ; 
 Though not the fruits of thy own plodding care. 
 While aught is left, thou wilt not miss thy share ; 
 But, in the labours which they daily ply, 
 To imitate them thou wilt never try.
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 If thou incline to be severely smart, 
 Take care thy wit is polish'd well by art ; 
 Although 't is right for thee to speak thy mind, 
 Thou canst not steer against a baffling wind ; 
 My station here, is higher than thy own, 
 Hence, some degree of deference should be shown, — 
 Thy words assail thyself as well as me, 
 Since thou and labour seldom long agree ; 
 At meals, too, thou thy part dost freely play, 
 Whilst I enjoy them in a moderate way : 
 In valued books, and observation made, 
 I trust to guides that seldom have betray'd ; 
 These, while they point true pleasures to my sight, 
 From folly, sloth, intemperance, urge my flight, 
 Fair Nature's order show, and Nature's law, 
 And bid me thence the choicest precepts draw, 
 With warm, devout sensations fill my mind, 
 And prompt to good pursuits — though far I lag 
 behind. 
 
 JOE. 
 
 In learned strain I would not soar so high, 
 For fear of tumbling when I fain would fly ;
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. O 
 
 Few stores of science overload my brain, 
 My rules of life from humbler source I gain ; 
 'T is well, in these strange times, I earn my bread, 
 And not with mazy studies turn my head : 
 To eat, drink, rest, — life's comforts to enjoy, 
 Are all the objects that my cares employ ; 
 Whereas, thy precepts, when to trial brought, 
 Are not so smooth in practice as in thought. 
 Though praising temperance, and early hours, 
 I 'm apt to think thy rules exceed thy powers ; 
 In circles wont to hear the minstrel's lays, 
 No doubt good cheer rewards, as well as praise, — 
 Returning, lighted by the stars or moon, 
 Thy hour of rest is late, or rather, soon ; 
 To early rising thou art seldom prone, 
 Unless when mov'd by fancies of thy own. 
 Thus, more and more, I prove that maxim true, 
 Fine words are plenteous, but good actions few, 
 Since thou, with lore and moral precepts bless'd, 
 Art but an erring creature like the rest. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 Without a fault was never mortal found. 
 Frailties, alas ! the best of men surround ; 
 
 b3
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 
 
 In every breast some master-passion reigns. 
 
 Which heaven-entrusted reason scarce restrains : 
 
 By nature prone to evil, from his birth 
 
 Dark imperfection brands the child of earth ; 
 
 Imperfect culture mars the noblest seed, 
 
 Examples vile from paths of virtue lead, — 
 
 Habits, contracted in life's earlier stage, 
 
 Or good or ill, grow more confirm'd by age ; 
 
 But few indeed can curb each wayward will, 
 
 And truly virtuous minds are fewer still : 
 
 Oh ! how should I, though train'd with fondest care, 
 
 Escape the ills which all are doom'd to bear ? 
 
 1 bound along, a fickle, vagrant child, 
 
 O'er rude, eccentric paths, — unfetter'd, wild ; 
 Yet, in my wildest flights, by passion drawn, 
 Some virtuous gleams around me faintly dawn ; 
 E'en where the festive cup is gaily quafPd, 
 I shun the sensualist's degrading draught, — 
 Though lingering oft amid these scenes of joy, 
 I mark how soon voluptuous pleasures cloy, 
 The vile-drugg'd cup I hence forbear to taste, 
 Nor dare in mental sloth my moments waste ; 
 The ways of erring life are there display 'd 
 In all their strange degrees of light and shade; 
 I learn, while in these devious tracks I run, 
 To prize all v irtue more, — all vice to shun,
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 
 
 Since vice o'er every joy extends a gloom, 
 
 While virtue smiles in ever-during bloom. 
 
 Though coarse my manners, and my phrase uncouth, 
 
 My conduct shadow'd by the faults of youth, 
 
 Of culture bare, — though small my mental skill 
 
 To mount, triumphant, learning's arduous hill, — 
 
 Though but a rude foundation here is laid, 
 
 Yet much is gain'd from heavenly Wisdom's aid ; 
 
 As art and skill on some weak shatter'd pile, 
 
 Bid grace and splendour, renovated, smile — 
 
 So she reforms each frail, degenerate mind, 
 
 And they who Wisdom seek, will surely find ; — 
 
 As she to aid, were I to toil as free, 
 
 What noble triumphs would remain for me : 
 
 Imperial Rome, who once her flag unfurl'd, 
 
 The awful mistress of a subject world, — 
 
 Whose fame, through ages, has so proudly blaz'd, 
 
 Was not by instantaneous effort, rais'd ; 
 
 Without unwearied toil, no great design 
 
 E'er reach'd success, nor with neglect will mine. 
 
 If one by one my faults I cast aside, 
 
 And let their place with virtues be supplied, . 
 
 Unlike too many of the preaching race, 
 
 My words and deeds will keep an equal pace ; 
 
 I then may hope, while Wisdom sways my pen, 
 
 Tn Truth's high cause to serve my fellow-men, —
 
 8 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 
 
 For Heaven ordains, that mortals here below 
 Should well their talents and their gifts bestow ; 
 Within each breast one sacred impulse feel, 
 To toil for general, as for private, weal ; 
 And humbly strive, in their allotted hour, 
 To cherish good, as they are bless'd with power. 
 But oh ! what sons of pamper'd ease abound, 
 Who merely live as cumberers of the ground, — 
 Pursue ambition, pleasure, folly, gain, 
 Nor care to soothe a fellow-mortal's pain ; 
 Nor Heaven's kind gifts, in shedding bounty, use, 
 Like flowing fountains, or refreshing dews : 
 And many are there of the toiling race, 
 Whom ignorance holds within her dull embrace, 
 Who, while they swell some great employer's store, 
 See famine, watching at their friendless door ; 
 E'en here will legal rapine boldly glide, 
 Despoiling bees, that drones may be supplied : 
 They, wanting knowledge, are bereft of power, 
 To ward off harpies, who their stores devour : 
 But less, this abject spirit, we survey, 
 Where wisdom spreads her intellectual ray ; 
 For as she lifts her sacred standard, high, 
 Oppression, fraud, and crouching ignorance fly ; 
 While freedom's flames the human breast inspire, 
 Igniting swiftly like electric fire ;
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 9 
 
 Intolerance strives to hold her seat in vain, 
 
 Wide rends th' intriguing snare, and shivering falls 
 
 the chain. 
 But why should I my words so idly throw 
 On one, who will not half their purport know ; 
 On aid like thine, should friends of Truth depend, 
 Their cause, horve'er advanc'd, would backward tend, 
 Regeneration's course, impeded, stay, 
 And freedom's fires, in hopeless gloom decay : 
 For, while I freely pour my treasur'd store, 
 Thou merely answer'st with a nod or snore ; 
 I might as well address a stone, or tree, 
 The god of sleep yields far more charms for thee. 
 
 JOE. 
 
 No ; I have heard thee well ; thy doctrine 's true, 
 
 Well worth the hearing and regarding too ; 
 
 And while conviction I most strongly feel, 
 
 To prize it duly, I will show my zeal : 
 
 Now, but once more, I'll turn my drowsy head, 
 
 And then, without a murmur, quit my bed. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 Stay as thou wilt, indulge thy lethargy, 
 Thy wavering spirit shall not influence me ; 
 
 b 5
 
 10 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. 
 
 I rise at once, and through the window peep, 
 
 The sun is flaming o'er the eastern steep, 
 
 The shades of night are fled — and roof, and spire, 
 
 Above the town, seem tipp'd with solar fire ; 
 
 While morn her robes in fairy-beauty weaves, 
 
 O'er dew-drench'd fields and shadow-blending leaves, 
 
 His warmth, descending on the fertile earth, 
 
 Bids nature smile, and wakes the embryo birth : 
 
 The healing plant, the variegated flower, 
 
 The tender herbage, and the budding bower, 
 
 Confess his mighty vivifying ray, 
 
 And joyful anthems greet the coming day ; 
 
 While harvest, smiling, crown'd with shooting grain, 
 
 Holds forth her brightest hopes to cheer the swain. 
 
 On all sides, labourers to their toil repair, 
 
 None now will sleep, but those devoid of care ; 
 
 The kine, upon the bare-worn pasture stand, 
 
 Or, ruminating, wait the milker's hand ; 
 
 There browse the steeds the juicy morsel choice ; 
 
 Their ears erecting at the driver's voice ; 
 
 And in their looks a strong desire I read 
 
 Before their toil on ampler stores to feed ; 
 
 Fresh grass I'll mow, their craving to allay, 
 
 While on the glebe the moistening dew-drops stay. 
 
 Hark ! now the clamorous inmates of the stv, 
 
 In chorus shrill, exalt their morning cry ;
 
 THE RUSTIC REASONERS. II 
 
 The ducks are waddling round in quest of food, 
 And fierce the hen conducts her tender brood ; 
 Led by their strutting chief, the poultry train, 
 Around the door, demand the welcome grain : 
 I go, each eager appetite to still, 
 For these must feed, let times be good or ill. 
 Some by their milk or toil maintain me now, 
 Upon the rest my cares I must bestow, 
 That when they fall beneath the stern decree, 
 As now I nourish them, so they may nourish me.
 
 I* 
 
 ANSELLA* 
 
 I. 
 
 Assist my trembling lyre, O mournful muse ! 
 
 Come, in thy robe of deepest gloom array 'd ! 
 While streams of pity flow, like kindly dews, 
 
 Let no light airs the solemn theme pervade ; 
 In this sad tale of death, and flood, and fire, 
 Breathe deeply-moving words, and fervent thoughts 
 inspire. 
 
 * The amiable subject of this poem, Ansella Boao, was on her 
 return from a visit paid to her brothers in Carolina — in company with one 
 of those brothers and several eminent individuals. A violent storm came 
 on, attended with thunder and lightning. The noble ship was struck by the 
 electric fluid and consumed to the water's edge, and the crew and passengers 
 in the boats braved the fury of the combined elements. This young lady, 
 after displaying great firmness and piety, expired in the arms of her brother. 
 The melancholy catastrophe occurred a few years since.
 
 ANSELLA. 
 
 II. 
 
 13 
 
 The drifting clouds, along the murky sky 
 
 In boding aspect overhung the main, 
 Whose waters dash'd with loud and angry cry, 
 
 Sunk in deep vales, and proudly heav'd again ; 
 The rising winds with blustering fury howl'd, 
 Defiance breathing loud, by mortals uncontroll'd. 
 
 III. 
 
 A ship then plough'd the darkly swelling wave, 
 From lovely Charleston to Britannia bound, 
 
 Her captain gallant and her seamen brave, 
 Alert and vigorous at their station found ; 
 
 A worthy train her splendid cabin bore, 
 
 By various motives led, to Albion's pleasant shore. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Scarce had the land slow faded from the eye, 
 Ere heavy squalls above, tremendous broke ; 
 
 In horror frown'd the wild and lurid sky, 
 
 And swelling seas beat high with furious stroke, 
 
 While through th' aerial vault, in dread presage, 
 
 The thunder bellow'd loud, the lightning spent its rage.
 
 14 ANSELLA. 
 
 Chang'd were the looks — deep-mov'd the hearts of all ; 
 
 Where joy and ardour rul'd the last glad hour, 
 Now sad depression cast a gloomy pall, 
 
 And terror wak'd its all-infecting power ; 
 Yet still, at duty's post, a steadfast slave 
 The seaman dauntless toil'd, his valued charge to 
 save. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Thus, through the black impending gloom, — they 
 steer, 
 Now glimmering flash the skies — now darkly 
 frown, — 
 At length, the lightning, in its wild career, 
 
 Lur'd by the bark, came fiercely streaming 
 down ; 
 Soon, the deep hold, fraught with electric fire, 
 Belch'd cloudy volumes forth, with suffocating ire. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The flaming ruin glided swift along ; 
 Each nervous sinew was in vain applied
 
 ANSELLA. 15 
 
 To quell its force, so fearful and so strong ; — 
 
 The boats were launch'd upon the angry tide, — 
 Their stores resign'd, at nature's weightier call ; 
 Life — precious life, the cry — all other cares were 
 small. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So, when a conquering host, with haughty tread, 
 O'erwhelming, drench a smiling land with blood, 
 
 And wasting fire, and heavy ruin spread, — 
 What, though a time their fury be withstood, 
 
 The natives fly, too weak their march to stay, 
 
 Flocks, herds, and stores remain, to hostile rage a 
 prey ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 'T is midnight now, — a dread appalling hour ! 
 
 Yet here as light as is the brightest day ; 
 The conflagration's still augmenting power, 
 
 Forc'd through the masts and shrouds its head- 
 long way, 
 And bursting, roaring with insatiate pride, 
 Annihilated all, till vanquished by the tide.
 
 16 *NSELLA. 
 
 X. 
 
 Above, no moon diffus'd her friendly glow, 
 But vivid lightning shot a tenfold glare, 
 
 No stars were mirror'd in the deep below, — 
 Fire sheets, red glancing, were reflected there, 
 
 While the mad waves, as they, resounding, roll'd, 
 
 Rear'd, in terrific pomp, their crests like molten gold. 
 
 XI. 
 
 With rumbling peals did Heaven's vast arch rebound ; 
 
 Man shook as though he heard his awful knell ; 
 The tempest howl'd in sullen wrath around, 
 
 And o'er their heads dark bursting torrents fell : 
 What perils, unforeseen, were theirs to brave ; 
 Who toss'd in open boats, on the devouring wave. 
 
 XII. 
 
 But how can my weak hand essay to paint, 
 The woes and dangers of this dismal night, 
 
 To image which all hues would prove but faint, 
 Where shone no ray of mild relieving light ? 
 
 Hope fled afar, while horror brooded there, 
 
 Keen rending anguish smote, and gloomy-brow'd 
 despair.
 
 ANSELLA. 17 
 
 XIII. 
 
 How seldom thinks the sensual child of ease, 
 Who fruitless wastes the swift-revolving day, 
 
 Of storms, of hardships, and of boisterous seas, 
 Strewing with pain and death the seaman's way, — 
 
 What sympathy awaits the daring toil, 
 
 Which wins his choicest stores from every clime and 
 soil ? 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Above the rest, one precious being drew 
 
 Most deep concern, — a sweet, endearing maid ; 
 
 No louring danger could her heart subdue, — 
 
 For, while the flames with quenchless fury spread, 
 
 (Serene and firm, no slave to shrinking fear,) 
 
 She stimulated all, throughout their toil severe. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Thou, lov'd Ansella, wert a vernal flower, 
 Expanding to the sun rich opening charms ; 
 
 Nor beauty only, virtue was thy dower, 
 
 And sweet affection that progressive warms : 
 
 A bright example to the youthful race, 
 
 [n thee refinement shone, with mild, engaging grace.
 
 18 ANSELLA. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Thou, plac'd beneath a kind protector's care, 
 
 Far from this isle didst brave the Atlantic's 
 roar ; 
 Two brothers dear breath'd the free Western air, 
 Where Charleston smiles on Carolina's shore ; 
 Their home inviting, mov'd thy young desire 
 To prove the hallow'd joys which kindred souls 
 inspire. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Thrice the fair earth resign'd her flowery grace, 
 And thrice the glorious sun of Summer shone. 
 
 Ere thou didst leave the hospitable race ; 
 Such powerful motives thy compliance won, 
 
 Still to prolong a welcome stay with these, 
 
 Where solid pleasures charm'd, civility and ease. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The people shar'd thy love, the land as well, 
 Yet was another land to thee more dear ; 
 
 And, in thy breast, did lively transports swell, 
 When fancy bade home's sweeter scenes appear :
 
 ANSELLA. 19 
 
 Hoping to smile with all so cherish'd there, 
 How little didst thou deem that none this joy might 
 share ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Such was the maid, who, in this cheerless hour, 
 The mingling wrath of storm and sea withstood ; 
 
 But soon she languish' d like a slender flower, 
 That bows its head beneath the pouring flood : 
 
 A firm support this gentle one possess'd, 
 
 Her brother fondly sooth'd, and clasp'd her to his 
 breast. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Though calm her mind beneath this lot severe, 
 Her tender frame could not endure the stroke ; 
 
 And how could she this dreadful trial bear, 
 Which harassed men, unshrinking as the oak ? 
 
 For kindly guarded had her nurture been, 
 
 Beneath maternal care, amid each peaceful scene. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 On lier the lightning, and the thunder's peal, 
 So terrible to some — no fears impress'd ;
 
 20 ANSELLA. 
 
 No peace-impairing anguish did she feel/ 
 
 No guilty thoughts were harbour'd in her breast : 
 This truth how sure, a heart unstain'd by vice, 
 Yields, e'en in death's dark hour, the calm of Paradise. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Though she had cherish'd lively hope before, 
 To see her kindred, friends, and native land, — 
 
 Yet did she not this blighting stroke deplore, 
 
 But bow'd, submissive, to the chastening hand, — 
 
 Firm trusting, through divine, redeeming grace, 
 
 To find, in brighter worlds, a glorious resting-place. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 As o'er her cheeks, which bloom'd of late so fair, 
 The rose-blush wasting, snowy paleness spread ; 
 
 As sunk her frame, unmeet such load to bear, 
 Before her calm and gentle spirit fled, — 
 
 Her lips implor'd of Heaven, in fervent prayer, 
 
 Toguard hersuffering friends, withkind sustaining care. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As the sweet babe, upon its mother's breast, 
 
 Lock'd in the warm embrace, soft slumbering lies,
 
 ANSELLA. 21 
 
 So, in her brother's arms, she sunk to rest, — 
 
 His gentle hand for ever clos'd her eyes ; 
 All hearts were sad, and mute was every tongue, 
 As o'er her lovely form the storm-beat mourners 
 hung. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Is there a bosom whence no sigh would rise, 
 
 O'er scenes like this, — or eye that would not 
 weep ? 
 If so, let such the kindlier feeling prize, 
 
 Which warm'd these ill-starr'd wanderers of the 
 deep ; 
 Who, though a thousand dangers roll'd around, 
 Perform'd her funeral rites, with zeal and awe pro- 
 found. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 That her fair body thus was thrown to feed 
 
 The watery brood, may move a thought of gloom ; 
 
 Yet dire necessity for this must plead, 
 Distressful sequel of a sadder doom : 
 
 How oft the gloomy, unreposing wave, 
 
 Oblivious shroud ! hath wrapp'd the beauteous and 
 the brave.
 
 22 AN SELLA. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Her dying prayer, that Heaven might aid the rest, 
 Rose not to Mercy's gracious throne in vain ; 
 
 A welcome sail their wearied vision bless'd, 
 Oh ! kind relief, to deep distress and pain ; 
 
 Their grateful feelings need no tongue to tell, 
 
 For all, with mind endued, their state may image well. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Though freed from peril and soul-withering fear, 
 A something wanting, their dejection told ; 
 
 To them, than gold or orient pearls more dear, 
 This richest treasure in the dark waves roll'd ; 
 
 For her a Mother, Sisters^ Brethren, weep, 
 
 And friendly hearts lament, in tribulation deep. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 And oft, where dark Atlantic waters spread, 
 Wide, wide afar, will restless memory roam ; 
 
 Long pensive wail the wave-toss' d, urnless dead, 
 Who, in these depths, hath found a final home, 
 
 When fire-fraught storms above wild threatening roll. 
 
 Sad tears will fall afresh — new darkness veil the soul !
 
 23 
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 Bleak wintry days were nearing fast, 
 Through half-stripp'd woodlands roar'd the blast, 
 The brown leaves whirl'd in sportive round, 
 Or, sere and wither'd, strew'd the ground ; 
 No flowerets, tipp'd with sparkling dew, 
 On sunny bank or meadow grew, — 
 No songster chaunted from the thorn, — 
 No blithe-ton'd milkmaid charm'd the morn : 
 The kine, by night, in straw-roof'd shed, 
 On hay or juicy turnips fed ; 
 No steeds on naked pastures brows'd, 
 But champ'd their fodder, snugly hous'd : 
 O'er fields, late deck'd with smiling corn, 
 The hunter rode, while twang'd the horn ; 
 The sportsman, with relentless aim, 
 Spread death amongst the flying game ; 
 The patient swains, with ceaseless care, 
 For future crops the soil prepare, 
 In fondest hope the well-till'd earth 
 Might bless them with her richest birth.
 
 24 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 One morning, in that season chill, 
 (Which makes dull spirits gloomier still,) 
 Though light her earliest streaks display 'd, 
 No gorgeous tints the East array 'd ; 
 As though to greet men's gaze, too proud, 
 The sun rose, veil'd in dismal shroud, 
 When, plodding on a lonely lane, 
 Were seen a motley rustic train ; 
 The whole, trimm'd neatly in their best, 
 Spoke this a day of welcome rest : 
 These worthy children of the soil, 
 Had bid a short adieu to toil, — 
 Brute, slave, and man, alike must play, 
 For 't is the annual Hiring-Day : 
 To gain employ were some intent, 
 A few on pleasure's errand bent, — 
 To guide rash youth, grey wisdom went. 
 
 A simply clad, time-honour'd man, 
 In steady order led the van ; 
 Though life's brief sand was sinking low, 
 Yet dignity sat on his brow : 
 The sinew large, and bony limb, 
 Show'd vigour once had dwelt with him, 
 His rugged hand most truly told, 
 A life in usefulness " grown old ;"
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 25 
 
 That hand had been the steadfast friend, 
 On which he could the most depend, — 
 Hence, he would never bow, to please 
 The pamper'd sons of lordly ease ; 
 For he, to Nature's purpose true, 
 Enrich'd the soil whereon he grew ; 
 Though plenty never swell'd his store, 
 He found content, and sought no more : 
 His sons and daughters, blooming round, 
 Long smil'd upon their native ground, 
 And, branching from the parent tree, 
 Like healthy blossoms, fiourish'd free. 
 One son, beside his buxom dame, 
 A man of stout and hardy frame, 
 Walk'd next, with firm, resounding stride, 
 Rejoicing in his manhood's pride : 
 From one of those great lords of land, 
 Who, o'er wide regions stretch the hand, 
 A farm he held, of scanty bound, 
 Where toil a bare subsistence found ; 
 His sons, advancing fast to men, 
 Two sturdy youths, were with him then, 
 A daughter staid in charge at home, 
 With prattling bairns too small to come : 
 Their cot the honour'd grandsire grac'd, 
 While life declin'd with gentle waste ; 
 
 c
 
 26 THE YORKSHIRE H1RINGS. 
 
 Experience prov'd a rich resource, 
 
 When ruder powers had lost their force ; 
 
 Although a wealthier son liv'd near, 
 
 He chose to end his labours here. 
 
 When some to him that subject broke, 
 
 Thus native independence spoke, — 
 
 " While sailing on life's troubled stream, 
 
 " The gifts of fortune various teem, 
 
 " A few to wealth and power are born, 
 
 " While many smart from penury's thorn ; 
 
 " And some, who rudest labours share, 
 
 " Can find both joy and comfort there ; 
 
 " Some, lifted from the lowly train, 
 
 " View old connections with disdain, — 
 
 " Though worldly treasure they possess 
 
 " Alone, it yields not happiness ; 
 
 " The joy we more than all should prize, 
 
 " A clean and honest heart supplies : 
 
 " My son, whom Heaven hath bless'd with gold, 
 
 " May yet some kindred feelings hold, 
 
 " But I shall fill my quiet grave, 
 
 " Ere I from him a bounty crave.'" 
 
 The tale resume — thus far digress'd, 
 These brief remarks will sketch the rest ;
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 27 
 
 Their orphan niece, Susannah, fair, 
 
 Tripp'd light behind the honest pair ; 
 
 Lov'd scenes she left, and bosoms kind, 
 
 Another home — less dear — to find ; 
 
 Her playful eye and artless mien, 
 
 Declar'd that brilliant age, eighteen ; 
 
 Dark curls those cheeks did sweetly shade, 
 
 Where joy with rosy beauty play'd. 
 
 A comely youth, robust, and tall, 
 
 Bid love's kind glance on Susan fall ; 
 
 And, as a mutual fervour burn'd, 
 
 His smile she bashfully return'd, — 
 
 First kindled at a country feast, 
 
 The flame had ever since increas'd : 
 
 On love's light wing he now had flown, 
 
 To guard his dearest to the town. 
 
 There was, besides, a thoughtless rake, 
 
 Whose heart no warning voice could shake, — 
 
 A roving lad, to peace a foe, 
 
 His friends' regret — his parents' woe, 
 
 Who never long to labour bent, 
 
 And soon his little earnings spent. 
 
 Of vigorous lad, and sprightly lass, 
 
 Who form'd the rest, no more I class, — 
 
 Still, as they mov'd, their numbers swell'd, 
 
 As labour now her pastime held ;
 
 28 THE YORKSHIRE HIR1NGS. 
 
 No rain, — for rain began to fall, — 
 Their steps could check, or hearts appal ; 
 Each 3'outh his smock around him roll'd, 
 With swinging gait advancing bold, — 
 Each maid, just rais'd her flouncing skirt, 
 And tripp'd, defying wet and dirt ; 
 The old man crack'd his liveliest jest, 
 And oft his moral rules impress'd, — 
 Each farm, and field, that came to view, 
 The owner and the soil he knew, 
 And told his tales, (oft told before,) 
 Of what had there occurr'd of yore, 
 When youthful blood inspir'd his veins, 
 And he was hail'd the first of swains. 
 
 The high-road won, so smooth and strong, 
 With brisker step they trudg'd along ; 
 A band of sharpers, by the way, 
 Were plotting how to wile their prey, 
 And soon an artful plan they try, 
 To catch the unsuspecting eye ; 
 The veteran bid his charge beware, 
 Of venturing near the dangerous snare, 
 Pass'd by the gang, who, muttering, swore, 
 ' Then gave this monitory lore, —
 
 THE YORKSHIRE WRINGS. '29 
 
 " We need to walk with wakeful eyes, 
 
 " In every path a danger lies ; 
 
 " What various schemes the vile employ, 
 
 " To rob us of a fleeting toy ; 
 
 " What worthless vermin mar the soil, 
 
 " Who seek to live on others' toil ; — 
 
 '•' What some acquire, by sweat and pain, 
 
 " By force, or cunning, these obtain — 
 
 " And widely doth this spirit reign — 
 
 " Far greater, than these outcasts vile, 
 
 " By wrong uphold a princely style." 
 
 The lively, bustling town, they gain, 
 Whose wonders greet the simple train ; 
 Sights, 'passing all they ever saw, 
 Loud praise from young admirers draw ; 
 Here, showmen's booths present to view 
 Fine pictures, not to nature true, 
 On rows of stalls, are gaily spread, 
 Toys, trinkets, tape, and gingerbread, — 
 All, smarten'd up in decent pride, 
 The rustics flock from every side, 
 While dialects, of various twang, 
 Are heard in homely, brief harangue ; — 
 Loud laughter roars, when, in the street. 
 Two old acquaintance chance to meet : 
 
 c3
 
 30 
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 With eager, and unhidden glee, 
 
 One bawls — " Ae, Bess lass, is that thee ; 
 
 " Ha' ar' ta yet ? — ha' gets ta on ?" 
 
 " O, hearty lass — and hae's yoar John ? 
 
 " An' hae dus Sal an' Dolly do ?" 
 
 — " All weel, an' they're coom hither too." 
 
 The house, at times like these, so dear, 
 
 Invites them to inspiring beer, 
 
 In comfort set, and happy ease, 
 
 They relish well their bread and cheese ; 
 
 A favourite place our rustics sought, 
 
 Where welcome kind was freely bought, 
 
 Around a joyful, blazing fire, 
 
 They dried their dripping-wet attire, 
 
 Concluding there at eve to meet, 
 
 They took their station in the street. 
 
 A martial train paraded round, 
 (Whose music peal'd with clangorous sound,) 
 With young recruits, for whom the tear, 
 By parting friends, was shed sincere : 
 Though many gaz'd with strange delight, 
 There were, who shunn'd the odious sight, 
 To whose now sad, excited thought, 
 A kinsman's tragic doom it brought ;
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 31 
 
 This was poor Susan's ill-starr'd sire, 
 Who, burning wild with valour's fire, 
 (And not from want, for labourers then 
 Were amply paid, contented men,) 
 Forsook his sad, despairing bride, 
 To be the slave of power and pride ; 
 He prov'd his dreams of glory vain, 
 On Salamanca's bloody plain. 
 
 The sun, burst from his cloudy veil, 
 Gave brighter grace to features hale, 
 And whisper'd hopes of evening mild, 
 To those whose early walk was wild. 
 From youths and maidens, throng' d in rows, 
 Employers now their servants chose ; 
 Each youth prepares this answer true, 
 To " Na, my lad, what can ta deu ?" 
 While vacant eyes they downward fix, 
 
 And scrape the pebbles with their sticks, — 
 
 " Wha, aw can plew the streitest furra, 
 
 " An so', an' mo', an' team, an' 'arra, 
 
 " As weel as ony man a't spot, — 
 
 " An' good 's the caricter aw've got : 
 
 The girls, to each enquiring dame, 
 
 Their merits testified the same, —
 
 32 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 " Well, I can wash, an' bake, an' brew, 
 
 " An' milk, an' manage t' dairy teu." 
 
 The numbers hir'd were rather small, 
 
 And low the binding terms with all ; 
 
 A dame, on modest Sue, had cast 
 
 A glance, which almost through her pass'd, 
 
 And was about to speak a word, 
 
 When interrupted by a third ; 
 
 For Sue was beckon'd to a friend, 
 
 Who this advice did freely lend, — 
 
 " If yo' wi' her agreement make, 
 
 " The bond you'll shortly want to braak ; 
 
 " I kno' her weel — a screwing jade, 
 
 " Who finds a faut, where noan is made ;" 
 
 At this, the matron they forsook, 
 
 Who threw on both a scowling look. 
 
 But soon the youth who priz'd her best, 
 His charming Susan thus address'd, — 
 " Since thou hast got no place to-day, 
 " Let me thy Hiring-penny pay, 
 " At thy ill-speed, I somehow feel 
 " Delight, not easy to conceal ; 
 " For, if divided, how forlorn 
 " Thy lost endearments I should mourn ;
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 33 
 
 " As thou alone my pain couhl'st ease,. 
 " And, in my weariest moments, please ; 
 " Who wak'd, in my fond breast, a store 
 " Of joys I never knew before. 
 Then soft replied the maiden dear, 
 " Though all is sweet, while thou art near, 
 " Yet, when from service I am free, 
 " What home of comfort waits for me ; 
 " My uncle, he is free and kind, 
 " But has enough his own to mind." 
 " Then, hear me, Susan, cried the youth, 
 " Thou wilt not, canst not, doubt my truth, — 
 " Our courtship now has lasted long, 
 " The tie that binds our hearts is strong, 
 " With thee I never could repine, 
 " Whatever sky 's above — be mine : 
 " For not chill, daunting poverty 
 " Shall quench the flame of love in me ; 
 " A fair employ I now possess, 
 " If small my wage, my cost is less ; 
 " Although my savings are but bare, 
 " My scanty all with thee I'll share ; 
 " And we, by dearest union bless'd, 
 " Must brave all weathers like the rest." 
 The yielding maid held down her head, 
 To hide the streaks of deeper red ; 
 
 c5
 
 34 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 Then, lightly by her lover's side, 
 To view the scenes of wonder, hied. 
 
 For now, the hiring-business done, 
 Intent to close the day with fun, 
 In various ways the rustics sped, 
 By pleasure and by fancy led : 
 Some, first the splendid shows survey, 
 With painted canvass waving gay, — 
 These, creatures hold from every land, — 
 Those, pantomime, or sleight of hand ; 
 But spite of music, lies, and din, 
 More gaze without, than enter in. 
 Some to the shops and stalls repair, 
 To spend what trifle they can spare, 
 Or, round the ballad-mongers crowd, 
 Who chaunt their jingling strains aloud ; 
 But far the greater number swarm, 
 To reeking tavern, diy and warm, 
 And there, in draughts of cordial brown, 
 Both sense of thirst and trouble drown. 
 
 The sun now bade our clime farewell, 
 And swift the gathering shadows fell, — 
 The night-clouds, as they blackening roll'd. 
 Of distant home the sober told.
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINCiS. 35 
 
 The group I oft have nam'd before, 
 
 All duly met — with many more ; 
 
 Yet then, to quit the cheerful fire, 
 
 Not one exprcss'd a strong desire : 
 
 Perhaps the thought had struck their brain, 
 
 They might not all meet thus again, — 
 
 From giving mirth a loosen'd string 
 
 But once a year — no harm might spring : — 
 
 The strong ale first the grandsire cheers, 
 
 A mark of deference to his years, — 
 
 His worthy son partook the same, 
 
 And pass'd it over to his dame — 
 
 The youths drank free, — e'en each sweet lass, 
 
 Press'd warmly, sipp'd her spirit-glass. 
 
 As high the mounting potion flew, 
 
 Her mantle, Joy around them threw ; 
 
 Each heart felt more and more unstrung, 
 
 And looser grew each rattling tongue : 
 
 Now, in a room, which o'er them lay, 
 
 A fiddler blithe began to play ; 
 
 As chargers at the trumpet's sound 
 
 Erect their ears and paw the ground, 
 
 Some rise responsive to the string, 
 
 And wild their limbs around them fling, 
 
 And caper on the floor amain, 
 
 Then, out of breath, sit down again ;
 
 36 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 But some run bouncing up the stairs, 
 
 Where lads and lasses, rang'd in pairs, 
 
 Dance jocund to the sprightly tone, 
 
 While floor, and ceiling, shake and groan. 
 
 'Mong those below, who jovial sat, 
 
 With pipe, and glass, in mingled chat, 
 
 Though now they laugh, and now they sing, 
 
 The seeds of strife began to spring ; 
 
 With heated brain, and reeling pate. 
 
 Two youths engag'd in loud debate, — 
 
 Some artful knaves to mischief prone, 
 
 Who long had mark'd their clamorous tone, 
 
 Assiduous fann'd the rising flame, 
 
 And urg'd them on to try their game ; 
 
 Nor urg'd in vain, — for, keenly stung, 
 
 The taller from the settle sprung, 
 
 And at the other aim'd a blow, 
 
 With force to lay a bullock low : 
 
 But he, too wary, duck'd his head, 
 
 The wall receiv'd the blow instead, — 
 
 Then, at his staggering foe let fly, 
 
 And ting'd his cheeks with crimson dye : — 
 
 Soon both fell heavy on the floor, 
 
 And kick'd, and thump'd, while tumbling o'er ; 
 
 Now others mingled in the fray, 
 
 Their pretext — to maintain fair-play ;
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 37 
 
 And louder still the discord rose 
 
 From brawling tongues, and sounding blows, 
 
 The landlord's firm, commanding call, 
 
 And females' screams, that pierc'd through all ; 
 
 Confusion reign'd, in wildest mien, 
 
 And hasty ruin strevv'd the scene, — 
 
 Seats, tables, smash'd, fell limb from limb, — 
 
 With ale, and blood, the floor did swim, 
 
 While madmen fought, with wounds o'erspread, 
 
 And bodies sprawling stretch'd, as dead. 
 
 Watch ! watch ! was call'd, — the watchman came 
 
 With cudgel stout, their wrath to tame, 
 
 And, dealing round a hearty crack, 
 
 He brought their wandering senses back, — 
 
 When all, who could, ran off in fear, 
 
 Regardless who the cost should clear. 
 
 In this fierce strife our chosen train, 
 Of harm had little to complain ; 
 The rake alone had interfer'd, 
 And he, with blood, was sore besmear'd : 
 The patriarch, by experience, knew 
 That woe from discord ever grew, 
 Withdrawing wisely from the fray, 
 This Nestor homeward led the way ; —
 
 38 THE YORKSHIRE HIRINGS. 
 
 " How vile/' cried he, " that men abuse 
 " What nature meant for wholesome use, 
 " A joy-inspiring gift of Heaven, 
 " To comfort weary mortals given ; 
 " How shameful is all guzzling waste, 
 " While some can scarce afford to taste, 
 " Those men, who reason thus resign, 
 " Deserve the fitting name of swine ; 
 " And they, who when in drink immers'd, 
 " Like powder, let their passion burst, 
 " Or, maim'd, or beaten black and blue, 
 " Another day their folly rue ; — 
 " Thus we, without receiving pain, 
 " From their rash error wisdom gain." 
 
 Though night, in gloom, o'ercast the road. 
 Their spirits felt no weighty load, 
 In mellow, fear-despising frame, 
 Returning merrier than they came ; 
 All, timid bashfulness forsook, 
 Each youth his favourite damsel took : 
 By talk beguil'd, and lively sport, 
 The long black march appear'd but short : 
 Fair Susan, and her goodly swain, 
 Breath'd forth, apart, the fervent strain ;
 
 THE YORKSHIRE HIR1NGS. 39 
 
 With joys, which only lovers know, 
 Again they pledg'd the sacred vow ; 
 Their cottage windows, gleaming bright, 
 Peep'd welcome to the wanderers' sight, 
 As, from the ancient steeple-tower, 
 The bell proclaim'd the midnight hour.
 
 40 
 
 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 
 
 'T is sweet to gaze upon the broad expanse 
 Of boundless ocean, in his gentlest mood, 
 
 To see the sun's exhilarating glance, 
 
 With orient lustre gild the rippling flood. 
 
 II. 
 
 How chang'd the scene, when tempests, frowning dire, 
 Dash the rude billows 'gainst the rocky shore, — 
 
 When breakers rave, with unrelenting ire, 
 
 And daunt the tar, who ne'er was mov'd before. 
 
 III. 
 
 Hard is the task, to nerve the wavering heart 
 To brave the perils of the faithless sea ; 
 
 When fore'd from this dear island to depart, 
 Impell'd by stern necessity's decree.
 
 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 41 
 
 IV. 
 
 View yon fam'd port, on Britain's western coast, 
 Teeming with industry and bustling trade, — 
 
 What stores and shipping there, a nation's boast, 
 What wealth, and state, on every hand display'd. 
 
 V. 
 
 But, painful contrast ! yon sad pilgrims mark, 
 Of every class, that throng the busy strand ; 
 
 Searching, with eager glance, for some kind bark 
 To bear them safely to a foreign land. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Far, 'mid the spacious regions of the West, 
 Won by Columbus — victor o'er the waves, 
 
 They hope to find a land with plenty bless'd, 
 Since this denies the comforts nature craves. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Their stores secur'd, — to all they value most 
 They sigh adieu ! — for time nor tide will stay ; 
 
 The signal given, — each tar assumes his post, 
 
 The canvass spreads ; — the vessel cleaves her way.
 
 42 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Turning from fortune's frown to court her smile, 
 The wanderers, fast receding from the shore, 
 
 Cast one fond look on Albion's sea-girt isle, 
 
 That land belov'd, which they may see no more. 
 
 IX. 
 
 And why are these, like exiles, doom'd to roam 
 Beneath strange skies, 'mid rocks and forests wild ? 
 
 Sever'd from kindred ties, and friends, and home, — 
 Sweet hills and vales, where their first morning 
 smil'd ? 
 
 X. 
 
 This favour'd land, why leave they ? which displays 
 Such beauty, grandeur, plenty, wealth, around, — 
 
 Whose scenes so lovely strike the' admiring gaze — 
 The hills with wood, the vales with verdure crown'd? 
 
 XL 
 
 The cause, alas ! their looks evince too plain, 
 
 Want pales the cheek — depression sways the soul ; 
 
 Ills following ills, have burst — a dreadful train — 
 And heavier clouds above still darkly roll.
 
 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 43 
 
 XII. 
 
 In vain may bounteous Harvest deck the field, — 
 Her sail, in vain, proud Commerce may expand, 
 
 If labour's hard-earn'd pittance will not yield 
 The humble store man's craving wants demand. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 If thus the flower of Britain leave her shore, 
 Her skill'd mechanics and her hardy swains, 
 
 Whose hands shall yield us every welcome store, 
 Or robe with plenty our forsaken plains ? 
 
 XIV. 
 
 In humble life, what mournful scenes prevail ! 
 
 Distress expands her sable pinions there; 
 The springs of virtue — peace — contentment — fail, 
 
 And Hymen's torch burns with a feebler glare. 
 
 XV. 
 
 But say, can man, when tender passion sways, 
 Though cares may daunt, its pleasing force restrain? 
 
 On smiling beauty can he fondly gaze, 
 
 And sunder'd from his highest bliss remain ?
 
 44 THE HOME-EXPELLED BKITONS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Lo ! the warm youth, and maiden blushing fair, 
 To whom few joys the nuptial-state can bring, 
 
 Who prove no raptures unalloy'd by care, 
 
 How low their hopes in life's gay blooming spring. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Are thus thy pleasures fled, inspiring Love? 
 
 Sweet solace destin'd to mankind below ; 
 Who brightly shed, on Eden's flowery grove, 
 
 Warm'd our first parents with thy genial glow ? 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Thy alter'd form — how humbling to behold ! 
 
 From that primeval lustre, sweet and pure ; 
 Too often barter'd now for sordid gold, 
 
 Too oft the prize of splendour's dazzling lure. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " In life's low vale," how many fondly sigh, 
 Nor dare fulfil the heaven-ordain'd decree ; 
 
 The sacred nuptial-bond afraid to tie, 
 
 Dismay'd by thoughts of chilling penury.
 
 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 45 
 
 XX. 
 
 Oh Britain ! Queen of Ocean ! — Europe's pride ! — 
 The world's dread arbitress, — with glory crown'd, — 
 
 Say, must thy sons in hopeless pain abide, 
 Can no relief — no healing balm be found ? 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Where now are they ? the loudly-vaunting host, 
 Who swell'd thy woes, fomenting impious wars ? 
 
 What now remains for blood and treasure lost, 
 But faded gloiy, burdens, tears, and scars ? 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Was it for this, to stay the couqueror's pace, 
 Thv warriors steep'd with gore the Belgic plain ? 
 
 Was Gaul but vanquish'd that thy plunder'd race 
 In deeper penury might drag their chain ? 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 And live there men, by thy rich bounty fed ? 
 
 Calling thee mother — ah, unfilial they ! 
 Who see dark ruin thy fair realms o'erspread, 
 
 Nor take one step to check its fearful way ?
 
 46 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 O ! how can such, proud in their envied sphere, — 
 Lavish of wealth, from those they injure, wrung, 
 
 Still lend to just complaints no pitying ear, 
 Deny their country's woes with erring tongue ? 
 
 XXV. 
 
 May righteous Heaven the faithful labourers shield, 
 Direct their zeal, and crown their noble toil, 
 
 Who dare the wrath of frowning storms to yield 
 Sweet peace and comfort to their native soil. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Soon, soon, may happier days, auspicious shed 
 Their grateful warmth on thee, still cherish'd isle ! 
 
 So, freed from want, and every cause of dread, 
 Thy sons may cheerful toil, thy daughters smile. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 All hail, Columbia ! thou, whose rising star 
 
 Shines with glad splendour o'er a western world, 
 
 Where, like some friendly beacon, seen afar, 
 Young freedom's flag triumphant flies unfurl'd.
 
 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 47 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Dear land of refuge ! where the hrave and free, 
 Exil'd from home, a hearty welcome share, 
 
 Andprove, though hirelingtongueshave slander'dthee, 
 Thy fostering kindness — thy maternal care. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Upborne on fancy's wild and rapid wing, 
 I soar across the huge Atlantic's swell, 
 
 To lands where noble rivers take their spring, 
 
 Where those whom cities starv'd in plenty dwell ; 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Where towering forests wave their branches high, 
 And lakes expand, and mighty cataracts roar, 
 
 Secluded haunts, where cheerful labourers ply 
 Rude toils, which they might never know before: 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 There fled ye, my three brethren, from that woe 
 Which long o'er Britain held its gloomy reign ; 
 
 Sternly did ye, like thousands more, forego 
 Your much-lov'd isle, a kindlier home to gain.
 
 48 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Ye elder two, life's rising scenes had pass'd 
 
 With ease and comfort, in your own calm sphere ; 
 
 Thus, are ye, ill-prepar'd to brave the blast 
 Of foreign hardships, or of toil severe. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 When commerce flourish'd in your native town, 
 By moderate toil ye won a little store ; 
 
 Fair prospects fled when gloom'd depression's frown, 
 And left few hopes that they would flourish more. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Now, as ye roam, where prompts the unfetter'd will, 
 Though Nature's gifts are spread with liberal hand ; 
 
 Yet oft your hearts recall — home — loving still 
 The lost endearments of your native land. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 But thou, my brother, youngest of the three, 
 
 Thou, youth of dauntless mien and soaring mind, 
 
 Foe to oppression, vigorous, bold, and free, 
 
 Thou scorn'st to cast one homeward look behind :
 
 THE HOME-EXPELLED BRITONS. 49 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Thy warm, impetuous spirit could not bear 
 
 To see such wrongs the sinking land o'erflow, — 
 
 Each burden'd drudge denied his well-earn'd share 
 Of daily comforts, sunk in want and woe : 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Thy early years were spent in arduous toil, 
 
 (Yet not from learning's humbler stores debarr'd,) 
 
 But manual arts, or culture of the soil, 
 No comfort left behind — no just reward. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Now brighter prospects charm ; — thy bosom's fire 
 Glows with fresh ardour through the toilsome day, 
 
 In full assurance of a bounteous hire, 
 Thy strong, unwearied labours to repay. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Urging on all, who here their lot deplore, 
 To leave a land in chains of misery bound, 
 
 Thou bidd'st them welcome to Columbia's shore, 
 Where freedom holds her seat, and sheds her bless- 
 ings round. D
 
 50 
 
 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH 
 SCHOOL. 
 
 I. 
 
 This day, the sweetest of the year, 
 Hope-lov'd — in memory treasur'd dear — 
 
 Glad-utter'd by each tongue — 
 When friends, long parted, warmly greet, 
 And bonds of love, more kindly meet, 
 
 And age once more seems young, — 
 
 II. 
 
 Tells of a fond-remember'd time, 
 When life exulted in its prime, 
 
 Here bless'd with golden dreams. 
 Hail ! walls, where peace and joy abide, 
 Bovvers, gardens, cloth'd with Summer's pride, 
   And ye mead-loving streams.
 
 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 51 
 III. 
 
 Those cupolas, — where morning's smile 
 Plays bright, — that noble central pile — 
 
 Gigantic in embrace ; 
 Whose wings on either side extend, 
 To guard, to cherish, and befriend 
 
 The tender rising race : — 
 
 IV. 
 
 The green — that sport-inviting ground, 
 The shed — where skippers lightly bound, 
 
 While whizz their cords in air ; — 
 To me, like well-known friends, are dear, 
 Who once was blithe as any here, 
 
 And knew not more of care. 
 
 Thought rushes from its secret springs, 
 While memory swift before me brings 
 
 The scenes of former years ; — 
 When here the first firm stone was laid, 
 The virtues lent their holiest aid, 
 
 Mov'd by the foundlings' tears.
 
 52 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Benevolence, with offer'd dower, 
 And Pity, — gentle soothing power, 
 
 Smil'd kindly on the place ; 
 And Charity, — of higher birth, 
 Descending gracious, came on earth 
 
 To feed the helpless race. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Time saw a change — for here, the mind 
 As yet in chains of sloth confin'd, 
 
 Assum'd its noble throne :— 
 A people came — who once withstood 
 Reproach and hate, while, humbly good, 
 
 They bow'd to One alone : — 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Here, choosing learning's pleasant seat 
 Within this order-rul'd retreat, 
 
 They plac'd their offspring dear,—   
 Who, train'd with care by guardians kind, 
 Are taught to store with Truth the mind,— 
 
 And her pure laws revere.
 
 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 53 
 IX. 
 
 The fair, the serious, the gay, 
 
 Plain, neat their garh — are seen to-day — 
 
 Beauty unplum'd is here ; 
 Yet, simpler were their sires of old, 
 Who, strong in toil, unflinching, bold, 
 
 Walk'd firm, with Truth severe. 
 
 X. 
 
 Not the bare word, nor barer form, 
 Sustain'd them in their morn of storm, 
 
 Heaven was their light — their guide ; 
 So long as men on Heaven rely, 
 They will the worst of foes defy — 
 
 Strife — fraud — ensnaring pride. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Thus warm my feelings as I gaze 
 On these dear scenes of early days, 
 
 Where my young mind acquir'd 
 The seeds of that augmenting store, 
 Which daily culture ripen'd more, 
 
 While glowing hope inspir'd. 
 
 d3
 
 54 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Yet, here, what hours I mourn as lost : 
 Since then, hy changeful breezes toss'd, 
 
 All lore was laid at rest ; 
 Till late, once more the flame aspir'd, 
 By some strange secret impulse fir'd, 
 
 Too strong to be repress'd. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Where'er around I cast my eyes, 
 What long forgotten thoughts arise, — 
 
 A rapid, fleeting train : 
 The well-known grounds I traverse o'er, 
 Each room — each favourite haunt explore, 
 
 1 feel a boy again. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The youngsters, eyeing my advance, 
 With their peculiar schoolboy's glance, 
 
 Their varied sports pursue ; 
 Unknown to me each prying face, 
 Save that in some a kindred trace 
 
 Of former friends I view.
 
 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 55 
 
 XV. 
 
 All those I knew and valued here, 
 Still cherish'd in remembrance dear, 
 
 Are gone — their place supplied : 
 As leaves now bud and now decay, 
 So these, in turn, enjoy their day, 
 
 And then are scatter'd wide. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Thus youth, exulting, starts in life ; 
 While transient joys, and care, and strife, 
 
 And sorrows intervene : 
 Till Time, with silent, fatal aim, 
 Assails man's earthly-moulded frame, 
 
 And sweeps him from the scene. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But long from you, ye sprightly train, 
 May gloomy care and wasting pain 
 
 Be kindly far withdrawn : 
 Your buoyant hopes, your sparkling joy, 
 I would no storms might e'er destroy, 
 
 Or cloud your smiling dawn.
 
 56 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Soon will the time of trial come ; —   
 While here you spring in vernal bloom, 
 
 Be every means applied : — 
 Life's path is rude, — with patient care 
 The stores your journey claims, prepare 
 
 To comfort and to guide. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 On you the eyes of friends sincere,— 
 On you the hopes of kindred dear, 
 
 With deepest interest turn ; 
 Since they with warmth your welfare seek, 
 Your thanks let zealous action speak, 
 
 Nor cold such favours spurn. 
 
 XX. 
 
 First — the young mind, assiduous store, 
 With rudiments of valued lore ; 
 
 Through learning's portals glide : 
 When gain'd, her wide and fertile field, 
 From choicest springs will wisdom yield 
 
 An ever-flowing tide.
 
 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 57 
 XXI. 
 
 But, as a long-neglected soil, 
 Or, as a lamp unfed by oil, 
 
 Or instrument unus'd, — 
 So, careless minds, more dullness gain, 
 Acquirements are possess'd in vain, 
 
 And gifts are but abus'd : — 
 
 XXII. 
 
 As ore, which dross and rust enclose, 
 The more 't is polish'd, brighter glows ; 
 
 So, by due care, the mind 
 Expands its powers, acquires new force, 
 Above the vulgar, gains a source 
 
 Of pleasures, pure, refin'd. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Such minds explore the realms of space, 
 The secret laws of nature trace, 
 
 And truth and harmony ; 
 Where earth her loveliest robe displays, 
 And wondrous scenes awaken praise,— 
 
 The God of Nature see. 
 
 d 5
 
 58 GENERAL MEETING AT ACKWORTH SCHOOL. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Then, let these precious moments flow.. 
 In learning all that man should know — 
 
 Enlarge each active power ; 
 With truth and virtue store the breast, 
 On these your firmest hopes will rest, 
 
 In life's declining hour. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 For, in this fluctuating life, 
 (Bewildering round of toil and strife,) 
 
 No joys so pure abound, 
 As those which move in virtue's train : — 
 'Mid care, and penury, and pain, 
 
 With her content is found. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Truth cheers the righteous on their way, 
 Calm, while in earthly bonds they stay, 
 
 And bless'd when life is o'er — 
 Upborne, as on seraphic wings, 
 The ransom'd soul exulting springs, 
 
 And grief is known no more.
 
 59 
 
 EYMING-WOOD FIELDS. 
 
 I. 
 
 The night-shades are vanish'd, and Phoebus, fair 
 beaming, 
 His light and his cheerfulness yields ; 
 I haste, while his rays through the thin clouds are 
 streaming, 
 To summon my charge from the fields. 
 
 II. 
 
 To fresh-renew'd vigour by sweet rest restored, 
 The steeds raise their ears at my call ; 
 
 The milk-beasts, as though the kind hand they im- 
 plored, 
 Now lowing advance to the stall. 
 
 III. 
 
 Before me dark Eyming is gloomily bending- 
 So dear to each youth and each maid :
 
 60 EYMING-WOOD FIELDS. 
 
 He towers like a rampart, these pastures defending, 
 And flings o'er the glebe his broad shade. 
 
 IV. 
 
 In the full glow of boyhood the sons of diversion 
 
 Oft hie down the skirts of this wood, 
 To greet their warm limbs with a cooling immer- 
 sion, 
 
 And sport in the smooth bracing flood. 
 
 The wood-songsters carol their heart-soothing num- 
 bers, 
 Amid the' embowering trees ; 
 The dew-drops smile bright, (gently wak'd from 
 night's slumbers,) 
 Like pearls from the orient seas. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Around me the harvest is briskly advancing ; 
 
 No longer the clouds swell with rain : 
 The swains blithe repair, while the warm rays are 
 glancing, 
 
 To gather the golden«ear'd grain.
 
 EVMING-WOOD FIELDS. 61 
 
 VII. 
 
 Health, peace, my attendants, while Summer shone 
 brightly, 
 I've toil'd 'midst the fragrant new hay ; 
 While youths and gay damsels, with converse so 
 sprightly, 
 Have banish'd reflection away. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But the scene now reminds me, as here I stand gazing, 
 
 Our sweet rural labours are o'er • — 
 And from these very fields, where our cattle are 
 
 g 
 
 razincr 
 
 c' 
 
 We share the full harvest no more.* 
 
 IX. 
 
 Should evil days tear us from yon habitation, 
 
 The haunt of our infancy bless'd ; 
 Though the young with more firmness might bear 
 separation, 
 
 Ah ! where could the aged find rest ? 
 
 » This land 19 now given up.
 
 62 EYMING-WOOD FIELDS. 
 
 X. 
 
 But cease ! ye fond flowings of tender emotion, 
 
 I'll muse with a resolute mind ; 
 For should I be driven to cross the wild ocean, 
 
 Yet Hope even then may be kind. 
 
 XI. 
 
 What led you, my brothers, to take your departure 
 
 For distant Columbia's shore ? 
 The best bulwark there, — is it Liberty's charter ? 
 
 Proud wrong, — sleeps he yet in his gore ? 
 
 XII. 
 
 When the land of your fathers no more could be- 
 friend you, 
 'T was then, this fair land you resign'd ; — 
 And now, in your toils, though slight hardships 
 attend you, — 
 Sweet peace and abundance you find. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 O England! should freedom's true day-star, ascending ^ 
 E'er beam on thy green fertile shore,
 
 EYMIXG-VVOOD FIELDS. 63 
 
 Thy pale drooping sons, now with misery contending, 
 Would think of removal no more. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 When, selfishness spuming, thy rulers endeavour 
 
 To foster the weal of the state, 
 And crush all the systems, oppressive, which sever 
 
 The humble in life, from the great ; — 
 
 XV. 
 
 When Truth reigns triumphant, undimm'd in her 
 shining, 
 
 When labour with plenty is crown'd, — 
 Then joy and contentment will banish repining, 
 
 And Peace shed her blessings around.
 
 64 
 
 GREENFIELD HILLS. 
 
 Noting each change of scene, of men as well, 
 
 I pace, where rugged tracts around me lie, 
 Through Saddleworth, bleak land of hill and dell. 
 
 Whose toiling race, the marts of trade supply. 
 
 The stunted shrubs, and o'er me rearing high, 
 The heath-rob'd hills, blend each Autumnal hue : — 
 
 Afar I hear the loud-resounding cry 
 Of eager hounds, that chase the fearful hare — 
 
 And now, I see the ardent sportsmen throng 
 'Mid the wild scenes, undaunted, void of care — 
 
 Borne by the breeze, now swells the echo strong, 
 
 Now, sinking, dies away, the distant hills among. 
 
 II. 
 
 But lo ! dark-brooding, o'er the horizon dim 
 Yon heavy cloud forewarns me to retire ;
 
 GREENFIELD HILLS. 65 
 
 The hunter quails not, storms are nought to him, 
 They cannot quench his fiercely-glowing fire ;— 
 
 Then, let him gratify his soul's desire, 
 A friendly cot I seek, ere every limb 
 Feels the chill moisture, through my wet attire : 
 
 With the free natives of this region rude 
 Till the dark tempest cease will I abide ; 
 
 Though lowly born, yet are their breasts endued 
 With kindness warm, howe'er their lot supplied — 
 Here, native bounty glows, unknown to boastful 
 pride. 
 
 III. 
 
 The rain has ceas'd — I quit this calm retreat, 
 
 And climb the steep whose brow assails the sky ; 
 Hills, moors, around — deep vales beneath my feet, 
 
 And distant cots, and streams, salute my eye, 
 
 No living creature near me I descry. 
 Here solitude has fix'd her airy seat ; — 
 
 No sound I hear, save the wild heath-cock's cry, 
 And the mad torrent dashing down the hill ; 
 
 What rapturous feelings in my bosom roll,— 
 What glowing thoughts these scenes sublime instil ? 
 
 At this high altar, may the unfettered soul, 
 
 Waft incense pure to Heaven, nor know proud 
 man's control
 
 66 GREENFIELD HILLS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet vain that search, to find through earth's wide 
 bound 
 
 The spot where guilty passions never came ; 
 I look — creation's grandeur reigns around : — 
 
 On man who stain'd these charms, I think with 
 shame. 
 
 Yon cot which lisping babes with terror name, 
 Where oft the mountain-wanderer comfort found, 
 
 Saw murder — could its stones that guilt proclaim, 
 There sunk a father, smit by deadly blows, 
 
 Nor could the son himself by valour save — 
 His wounds were deep, from many cruel foes. 
 
 Hath glory charms ? — let this adorn his grave — 
 
 His was a holy cause — he fell as fall the brave. 
 
 The white-wreath'd clouds, that veil'd yon hills afar, 
 
 Mov'd by the rising gust now onwards glide : 
 Soon, like a host, fierce rushing to the war, 
 
 The winds resistless sweep, a whelming tide. 
 
 Swift fly the vapours ; — now the hills they hide — 
 And now expose their summits bleak and bare. 
 
 I must descend nor madly here abide,
 
 GREENFIELD HILLS. 67 
 
 For mist surrounds me — nought can I survey, 
 
 Save sparkling streams, which rolling, headlong 
 leap — 
 With cautious steps I gain the public way — 
 
 Lest I should sink in moss-grown quagmire deep, 
 Or by rude winds be hurl'd o'er some impending 
 steep.
 
 68 
 
 IRISH WANDERER. 
 
 I. 
 
 Since Pity's mild trace is 
 Display'd on your faces, 
 Pray hear ! what his case is, 
 
 Who treads on your ground,- 
 From Ireland just landing, 
 Whose glory expanding, 
 Once, bright and commanding- 
 
 Now, faint beams around : 
 Where nature smiles freely ; 
 Where praties grow mealy ; 
 Where verdure springs gaily, 
 
 And sprightly girls smile : 
 Whose sons with kind dealing, 
 Are warm-hearted, willing, — 
 No base heart concealing, 
 
 With hypocrite wile,
 
 IRISH WANDERER. 69 
 
 Och ! the shamrock-crown'd nation, 
 The pride of creation, 
 Is valour's high station, 
 
 And honour is law ; 
 Though foes trample o'er us, 
 All true hearts deplore us, 
 And join our sweet chorus, 
 
 Our " Erin go bragh." 
 
 II. 
 
 Behold me first enter, 
 On life's wild adventure, 
 My kind parents centre 
 
 In me all their joy : 
 By them fondly cherish'd, 
 And plenteously nourish'd, 
 I grew and I flourish'd, — 
 
 A fine hopeful boy ! 
 My powers ripen'd early, 
 I priz'd mirth sincerely, 
 I lov'd the girls dearly, 
 
 And dear they lov'd me. 
 Ere gain'd my full stature, 
 I join'd a sweet creature, 
 In mind and in feature 
 
 From all blemish free.
 
 70 IRISH WANDERER. 
 
 III. 
 
 Our union cemented, 
 A snug cot we rented, 
 And there liv'd contented, 
 
 Unconscious of gloom : 
 Till evil's dark hour, 
 Did stormily lour ; 
 When Erin's green bower, 
 
 Was stripp'd of its bloom. 
 Then toil naught avail'd me, 
 My wages soon fail'd me, 
 Hard stewards assail'd me, 
 
 Though famine rag'd wide. 
 Stern law's harpies teasing, 
 The titheman so fleecing, 
 Our scanty stores seizing, 
 
 With insolent pride. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thus plunder'd my dwelling, 
 My blood warm was swelling, 
 My fierce heart rebelling 
 'Gainst laws so unjust : 
 Impetuously springing, 
 My shillela swinging,
 
 IRISH WANDERER. 
 
 A wretch, with head ringing, 
 
 I laid in the dust. 
 But justice, unbending, 
 Her agent defending, 
 From kindred ties rending, 
 
 Consign'd me to chains : 
 My wife, tender-hearted, 
 In anguish long smarted, 
 Until by death parted 
 
 From wants and from pains. 
 
 71 
 
 When freedom I tasted, 
 My prospects were blasted, 
 My native isle wasted, 
 
 By ruin's fell hand : 
 I left lovely Erin, 
 And kindred endearing, 
 And heedless went steering 
 
 For Albion's strand. 
 Now, careless and cheery, 
 Now, pensive and dreary, 
 Starv'd, hungry, and weary, 
 
 I wander along : 
 Now, hopeless — despairing, 
 Employment now sharing,
 
 72 IRISH WANDERER. 
 
 And drowning my care in 
 Sweet whiskey or song. 
 For the shamrock-crown'd nation, 
 The pride of creation, 
 Is valour's high station, 
 
 And honour is law : 
 Though foes trample o'er us, 
 All true hearts deplore us, 
 And join our sweet chorus, 
 Our " Erin go bragh."
 
 73 
 
 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER 
 DIFFICULTY.* 
 
 Propitious the breezes are blowing, 
 That waft us from Albion away, 
 
 The sea — calm and silently flowing, 
 Exults in the sun's joyous ray. 
 
 II. 
 
 Receding art thou from my view, 
 Fair Island, my dear native land, 
 
 I breathe thee my last fond adieu, 
 As lingering I gaze on thy strand .' 
 
 * This Poem was written on the embarkation of an interesting young; 
 female — who, at the earnest request of her lover, had the courage to cross 
 the Atlantic to become the sweetener of his toils and the wife of his bosom. 
 She arrived in safety at the humble abode which his strenuous labours had 
 prepared for her in America. The union of the mutually faithful pair was 
 joyfully accomplished. She is here represented as taking leave of her own 
 land. These sentiments, though not really expressed by her, we may 
 readily conceive were not foreign to one who evinced such pure attachment 
 and undaunted magnanimity. 
 
 E
 
 74 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 
 
 III. 
 
 Though tears from my eyes are now falling, 
 When no more my lov'd home I may see, 
 
 A kind voice of comfort is calling 
 
 " Thy joys shall he dearer with me." 
 
 IV. 
 
 How sweetly it falls on my ear, 
 
 Recalling delights of the past, 
 'T is the voice of a youth ever dear, 
 
 Whose faith will not bend with the blast. 
 
 When childhood's warm feelings were glowing. 
 
 What moments of gladness we prov'd, 
 While youth's genial current was flowing, 
 
 In converse delightful we rov'd. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And now, though by sternest decree, 
 
 We widely asunder are torn, 
 Can aught in my lover and me, 
 
 E'er quench the pure flame, Heaven-born.
 
 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 75 
 VII. 
 
 He calls me his home to prepare, 
 And cheer him when labour is done, 
 
 On a soil where the humblest may share 
 The meed which that labour has won. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 His hope-breath" d request I obey, — 
 
 The task is stupendous I know, — 
 Though perils encompass my way, 
 
 To his arms of protection I go. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Though skies in black horror were scowling 
 
 And seas rolling valley and hill, — 
 Though wildly the tempests were howling, 
 
 Not all could have shaken my will. 
 
 X. 
 
 Mine is not affection so fleeting, 
 
 That danger can weaken its force, 
 As the rill and the mountain-flood meeting, 
 
 It gathers new strength in its course.
 
 76 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 
 
 XL 
 
 Let some who exult in their splendour, 
 Unwarm'd by the pure moving flame, 
 
 By stooping to interest render 
 
 Their nuptials a contract of shame ; — 
 
 XII. 
 
 Let some pursue wealth, rank, and beauty, 
 Nor know what affection implies, 
 
 With fervour to love is my duty, 
 The heart is the treasure I prize. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Though mirth and profusion abound, 
 
 'Mid the glare of the light festive hall, — 
 
 Though honour and grandeur surround, 
 Full soon may satiety pall. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Love scorns to reside in the soul 
 That bows to base lucre a slave, 
 
 Remorse soon embitters the bowl, 
 Which a moment of ecstasy gave.
 
 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 77 
 
 XV. 
 
 Not so — when two hearts by a tie 
 
 Of mutual affection are bound, 
 There — love in the tremulous sigh, 
 
 And deep mantling blush may be found. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 No change, no stern mandate can sever 
 
 That strong; and immaculate bond, 
 Once kindled, their bosoms will ever 
 
 With warmest devotion respond. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 And oft the low cot will afford 
 
 More bliss than a palace can give, 
 When parents and offspring accord, 
 
 In humble contentment to live. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 To them, while unruffled by strife, 
 
 Flow blessings from Heaven's rich store, 
 
 And e'en the afflictions of life 
 
 Will bind their affection the more. 
 
 e 3
 
 78 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But cease, O my wandering thought, 
 Nor roam in wide fancies astray, — 
 
 Be now my own happiness sought, 
 Though distant and arduous the way. 
 
 XX. 
 
 For like a young bird that has flown 
 From parents and fostering nest, * 
 
 Self-aided, I journey alone, 
 My hopes all in Providence rest. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The warbler on light flitting wing, 
 
 Soon wooes a congenial mate, 
 Thus, I in so simple a thing, 
 
 An emblem behold of my state. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 And now, I bid England adieu ! 
 
 To seek the delight of my soul, 
 Whose heart to its object is true, 
 
 As the magnet is true to the pole.
 
 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 79 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Though a Mother my absence will weep, 
 Though kindred and friends may deplore, 
 
 Yet borne on the wide-rolling deep, 
 I gaze on my country no more ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 When the soul-cheering beacon of Love, 
 
 In radiance beams to the eyes, 
 The stories of ages will prove, 
 
 What dangers are borne for the prize. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 And lo ! where my beacon is streaming, 
 
 Like a light seen afar in a tower, 
 A star of fair promise, whose gleaming 
 
 With fortitude arms me and power. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 While briskly the fresh breathing gales, 
 Are hasting our course o'er the sea, 
 
 Dear hope in each bosom prevails, 
 That prosperous our passage will be.
 
 80 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 This prayer warmly springs from my breast, 
 " Safe lead me my Helper and Guard, 
 
 " To him whom on earth I love best, 
 " Here grant me no higher reward :— 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " O teach us with patience to bear, 
 " The evils in life which abound, 
 
 " That still in each duty and care, 
 " Unblemish'd our union be found :— 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Like yon sun in his course overcast, 
 " Yet calmly declines as he rose, 
 
 " And shines in mild splendour at last, 
 " So cloudless, so bless'd be our close : — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " As the skies, when his orb sinks from sight, 
 " His cloud-tinging pomp long retain, 
 
 " May we leave a reflection as bright, 
 " As cheering to all who remain :—
 
 TRIUMPH OF PURE LOVE OVER DIFFICULTY. 81 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " To this all my cares shall be given, 
 
 " In the soft favouring smile, or the frown, 
 
 " I trust to thy mercy, O Heaven ! 
 " My humble endeavours to crown."
 
 82 
 
 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 Once more I view the lowly vale, 
 
 Where Dearne glides 'neath the alder trees ; 
 Once more my native roof I hail, 
 
 Where poplars, towering, court the breeze. 
 
 II. 
 
 How oft have I forsook this home, 
 To tread in pleasure's mazy train ; 
 
 But soon, perchance, I may not roam 
 From these sweet peaceful bounds again. 
 
 III. 
 
 Here duty stern I now resume, 
 
 And with the eager, bustling throng,
 
 REFLECTIONS. 83 
 
 Beneath bright skies, or tempests' gloom, 
 Must urge my vigorous steeds along. 
 
 IV. 
 
 What ! though in Summer's smiling hours, 
 
 I bask'd in pleasure's genial ray ; * 
 Now must I guard, ere Winter lowers, 
 
 'Gainst penury's chill and bitter day. 
 
 Though heartfelt joys with slight cares blended, 
 Are mine where'er I fondly roam, 
 
 These rugged toils may be attended 
 
 With peace — the sweetest charm of home. 
 
 VI. 
 
 I've stood beside the boundless deep, 
 
 While sparkling in the sun's glad ray ; — 
 
 Have watch'd fair barks majestic sweep, 
 Dashing from rolling waves the spray : — 
 
 * That Summer I had been a considerable traveller ; the Piece was 
 composed on resuming employment after the agreeable relaxation.
 
 84 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 I've gaz'd, where rural beauty glows — 
 On regions rude, romantic, grand, — 
 
 On scenes, where once proud fabrics rose, 
 Now mark'd by ruin's mouldering hand ;- 
 
 VIII. 
 
 I've been, where Health's restoring waters, 
 Yielding relief to thousands, spring ; — 
 
 Have sat in halls, where beauty's daughters, 
 To rapture wak'd the tuneful string ; — 
 
 IX. 
 
 I've been, where native kindness shone, 
 And real friendship warm'd the soul, — 
 
 Where soon each heavy cloud was gone, 
 O'er me, in blackness, wont to roll : — 
 
 X. 
 
 But now, those hours so gaily spent, 
 No more I vainly call to mind ; 
 
 For still sweet heaven-inspir'd content, 
 Can make e'en rigid labour kind.
 
 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 XI. 
 
 As Cincinnatus glory-crown'd, 
 
 Resign'd the glittering meed of power, 
 With willing hand to till the ground, 
 
 His father's dear, yet humble dower ;- 
 
 XII. 
 
 May such an independence burn, 
 
 Within my breast with constant flame ; 
 
 So may I vain temptations spurn, 
 
 And joys too often stain'd by shame. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Though pleasure lull our cares a while, 
 And soothe the aching nerve of toil, — 
 
 Yet fly from sloth's corrupting smile, 
 Lest weeds should mar a healthy soil. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 No Father's aiding hand is nigh,— 
 No Mother's fond regard I share, — 
 
 With faultering step, unaided, I 
 Must tread the thorny maze of care.
 
 86 REFLECTIONS.* 
 
 XV. 
 
 Example bright ! those parents kind, 
 In all their arduous trials yield ; 
 
 Their highest aim — Heaven's path to find- 
 And offspring dear, to guide and shield. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Warm Charity, and Truth sincere, 
 Their unassuming hearts impress'd ; 
 
 When clos'd each holy duty here, 
 They peaceful sunk to welcome rest. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 If honour's voice, so false, so vain, 
 
 Applaud these innate powers of mind ; — 
 
 Shall I a meed like their's obtain, 
 Or, leave so fair a name behind ? 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 No ! virtue's charms transcendent shine ; 
 
 Good works can never fail ; 
 If man the Heavenly gift decline, 
 
 What can his brightest powers avail ?
 
 REFLECTIONS. 87 
 
 XIX. 
 
 His airy dreams, his vain desires, 
 
 Though crown'd, afford no steadfast joy ; 
 
 Though he exult while fancy fires, 
 
 His baseless, maddening raptures cloy. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The despot, in triumphant hour,- — 
 
 The prelate, with new livings bless'd, — 
 
 The courtier, when rich favours shower, — 
 The miser glorying o'er his chest ; — 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The wit, the genius, hail'd by fame, — 
 The worldly soul, augmenting gain, — 
 
 The victor, for a laurell'd name, 
 
 Proud prancing o'er the crimson'd plain ;-—■ 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Though these to crown their hopes attain 
 
 The joy so eagerly pursued, — 
 Too soon they know their triumph vain, 
 
 For still oppressive cares intrude.
 
 88 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 How happier they, whate'er their state, 
 Who, in all time, adhere to right,— 
 
 Their words, their actions regulate 
 By sacred Truth's revealing light ;— 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Who serve that Power which bade them live, 
 Assist and love their fellow men, — 
 
 Who, in their earthly dealings, give 
 The measure they would share again ;— 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Who ne'er Religion's fair attire 
 Assume, an evil heart to hide, — 
 
 Who ne'er, from venal hopes, aspire 
 The peaceful flock of Christ to guide ;— 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Who never, by ambition led, 
 
 By rapine, hate, or sordid gain, — 
 
 Destruction, want, and misery spread, 
 Nor spurn their brethren with disdain ;—
 
 REFLECTIONS. 89 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Who ne'er an envious tongue employ 
 
 To vilify a nobler breast, — 
 Who ne'er by guile, or crime, destroy 
 
 A spotless name — a parent's rest ;— 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Who, ere another they reproach, 
 
 Cleanse their own breast of deeper sin, — 
 
 Who let no grovelling cares encroach, 
 Uprooting love and peace within : — 
 
 XXIX 
 
 In all the shocks of this vain world, 
 Though ruin strike his fellest blow,— 
 
 Though thrones and powers are prostrate hurl'd, 
 Or nations to oppression bow : — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Though rude afflictions round them rise,— 
 
 Though men prove slanderous, base, unkind ;— 
 
 Yet then they hold the dearest prize, 
 A sure consoling peace of mind.
 
 yO REFLECTIONS. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 This holy peace, all joys exceeding, 
 Not only gilds their path below, — 
 
 But still to brighter worlds is leading, 
 Where tears of sorrow never flow: — 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Those glorious realms by faith are shown ; 
 
 And trusting Heaven's presiding care, 
 They humbly hope, when time is flown, 
 
 To live in bliss eternal there.
 
 91 
 
 TRIBUTE OF CONSOLATION. 
 
 I. 
 
 See mildly breaking o'er the eastern sky, 
 
 The golden splendour of the morn is spread : 
 
 But mark ! the gathering vapours as they fly, 
 O'er its bright pomp, a sudden darkness shed : 
 
 Lo ! from meek violet, to fiery red, 
 All hues adorn the rich ethereal bow — 
 
 It dying fades, and every trace is fled : — 
 So earthly hopes, by fancy painted, glow, 
 Till rudely sweeps the storm their fleeting glory 
 low. 
 
 II. 
 
 Though man must like his gilded hopes expire, 
 He heedless dances on life's changeful stream ; 
 
 Now lighted up, his frame, his soul, on fire, 
 Now sunk in gloom, and misery extreme : 
 
 And though from Heaven unceasing favours teem, 
 Yet black rebellion doth his heart enthral ;
 
 92 TRIBUTE OF CONSOLATION. 
 
 While judgment frowns, he, wrapp'd in maddening 
 dream, 
 Beholds like leaves, his brethren 'round him fall ; 
 He shrinks aghast from death — but wakes not at 
 the call. 
 
 Ill- 
 There is a humble pile, where late were bless'd, 
 
 A worthy pair in fondest union tied, 
 One glowing love inspir'd each answering breast, 
 
 Where neither wish'd that mutual flame to hide : 
 Three playful children flourish'd at their side, 
 
 And charm'd the hour, when arduous labours 
 cease ; 
 To nourish these, they toil'd with honest pride, 
 Happy to see their comforts still increase : 
 Contentment bless'd the cot, and sweet consoling 
 peace. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And I, who love a calm retreat like this, 
 
 Before the proud, the gay, yet heartless scene, 
 
 Have oft, at evening, shar'd their homely bliss, 
 While intellectual stores our feast have been :
 
 TRIBUTE OF CONSOLATION. 93 
 
 Whene'er I stepp'd within that mansion clean, 
 A pleasing smile would bid me welcome there, 
 
 While beam'd attention on each sprightly mien, 
 With kindred hearts assembled, I did share 
 Rich streams of social joy, too pure to blend with 
 care. 
 
 There came a change, — a gloomy change, for all— 
 The hand of God prevail'd in wrath around ; 
 
 On the sweet Wife the stroke was doom'd to fall, 
 Which swift infix'd a deep and cureless wound. 
 
 One day beheld her lively, active, sound, 
 But on the next she cold and livid lay, 
 
 The third, immur'd her relics in the ground : 
 As frowns a hideous dream, and flits away, 
 So dreadful came her fate — the cruel shock will 
 stay. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Ye smiling babes, that like fair olives grew, 
 No longer now a mother's fondness share ; 
 
 She in her last sad moments thought of you ; 
 And with a look, which none unmov'd could bear,
 
 94 TRIBUTE OF CONSOLATION. 
 
 Save they whose breasts with rigid steel compare, 
 Exclaim'd with fervour to a mourner near, 
 
 " What will you do for these who claim your care?" 
 The sacred tie which bound in life so dear. 
 In death's dread presence held, through agony 
 severe. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Yet, there is one, your Father, he will heed 
 
 That fond injunction, and will still supply, 
 So far as mortal can, your every need, 
 
 Nor close cold ears upon your plaintive cry : 
 And while he strives his moisten'd cheek to dry, 
 
 May haply in your opening features, trace 
 Her look, whose loss, hath dimm'd his watery eye : 
 
 This with new strength his trembling nerves will 
 brace, 
 
 Life still an object yields — earth yet presents agrace. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And thou, dear sufferer ! who beheld'st so soon, 
 Thy lovely prospect, wasted of its bloom ; — 
 
 Prize the brief span, thy Maker's precious boon, 
 Ere thou art call'd to share thy partner's tomb.
 
 TRIBUTE OF CONSOLATION. 95 
 
 These living pledges urge thee to resume 
 Thy wonted energy ; — the task of love 
 
 Will sweetly soothe the pensive hour of gloom ; 
 As shoot their frames, their yielding minds im- 
 prove, 
 Nor fit for earth alone, O raise their hopes above. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Though hard to trace the silent hand which moves, 
 
 The secret causes of our joy or woe, 
 Know thou the Almighty chastens whom he loves, 
 
 And bids new comfort from affliction flow. 
 What — though thou bend'st beneath a whelming 
 blow, 
 
 And mourn'st a treasure earth can scarce repay ; 
 Still there is hope, to cheer thy days below ; 
 
 He who relieves the helpless when they pray, 
 
 May dawn on thy dark soul, and chase the cloud 
 away. 
 
 X. 
 
 The artless glee thy boyish years display'd, 
 
 Youth's dreams — the bliss of wedlock, thine so 
 late,
 
 96 TRIBUTE OF CONSOLATION. 
 
 Would weigh as nothing, were thy peace but made 
 With him, the fount of joy, who rules all fate, 
 
 And in rude wilds can smiling realms create : 
 Accept his love, for thee so freely shed, 
 
 Which gilds not only this brief cloudy state, 
 Its voice shall whisper, o'er thy dying bed, 
 " Rise, joyful from the dust, with glory on thy 
 head." 

 
 <J7 
 
 WRECK OF THE ROTHSAY-CASTLE. 
 
 What numerous snares before our feet are spread, 
 As on life's chequer'd path we faultering tread : 
 Who boasts of pleasure here and knows no woe? 
 Who lives secure from ruin's fatal blow ? 
 Death, when he comes, assume what form he will, 
 War, famine, plague, disease, is hideous still ; 
 But when he bursts on joy's unclouded hour, 
 And hurls his shafts with desolating power, — 
 When unforeseen, on pleasure's flowery path, 
 He sheds the vials of his quenchless wrath, 
 Then deeper sorrow shades each troubled brow, 
 And kindlier words from weeping pity flow : 
 What horror glooms around ! what fears depress ! 
 What loudly-vented grief! what poignant, mute dis- 
 tress ! 
 
 Such gloom e'en now this isle o'ershadows wide, 
 For those who sank in Menai's angry tide : 
 What mind can dictate and what hand can write 
 The painful records of that fatal night ! 
 
 F
 
 98 WRECK OF THE ROTHSAY-CASTLE. 
 
 Methinks I view, slow driving o'er the sand, 
 The shatter'd hark, whose inmates trembling stand, 
 While the mad-crested waves, upheaving high, 
 Roll o'er their heads, an awful canopy ; 
 The blast — the louder cries — burst on my ears, 
 Grief frantic raves, or melts in gushing tears ; 
 Around the deck in wild embrace they cling, 
 And press more closely as new dangers spring, 
 While cold despair doth on that accent dwell, 
 Which forms with mingling sighs the last farewell. 
 
 As the hoarse gales more loud more vengeful 
 blow, 
 With mightier force the' insulting billows flow, 
 Now dismal vales, and now huge mountains grown, 
 They rushing dreadful tear the bulwarks down ; 
 And while sad shrieks attend their sudden sweep, 
 Resistless bear some victim to the deep ; 
 The vessel groaning from each furious blow . 
 Loud crashing rends and plunges all below. 
 Through the dim curtain of the night behold 
 These hapless beings in confusion roll'd, 
 Their powers exhausting to avert the doom, 
 Which threatens all with one wide yawning tomb. 
 The .stern commander, who all jjrayers withstood, 
 Yields to the fury of the prouder flood :
 
 WRECK OF THE ROTHSAY-CASTLE. 99 
 
 The mother there, whose cries with tempests blend, 
 Upholds her precious babe 'til both descend ; 
 Friends, kindred blending, wives their husbands 
 
 clasp, 
 They sink — emerge — at every object grasp — 
 To boards and fragments cling with fainting power, 
 But weak their refuge in this trying hour ; 
 For, as the waves rush wild with wrathful boom, 
 They sweep some mortal to an awful doom : 
 Some, chill'd with cold, and stupified with pain, 
 Resign the hold they can no more retain ; 
 And calmly some, from earthly succour driven, 
 With dying prayer, commend their souls to Heaven. 
 A few with desperate struggles gain the land, 
 And some are rescued by a generous hand, 
 They live the tragic story to relate, 
 And for their friends bewail the stroke of fate, 
 While in their minds, engrav'd with deepest trace, 
 They bear what time and change can not erase. 
 1 need not here in mournful numbers tell, 
 What feelings wild in kindred bosoms swell, 
 The tender sighs, the sympathizing tears, 
 The rumours strange, the swift contagious fears, 
 The rending anguish, and the grief profound, 
 Which press the hearts of thousands to the ground,
 
 100 WRECK OF THE ROTHSAY-CASTLE. 
 
 Though they from life and every tie are torn, 
 Whose loss so many feel and deeply mourn ; 
 He who from evil good ordain'd to flow, 
 In wisdom struck this agonizing blow, 
 To His eternal will resign'd we all must bow.
 
 101 
 
 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Relentless drives the furious blast 
 
 Around my houseless head ; 
 With clouds whose gloom is deepening fast, 
 
 The skies frown darkly dread : 
 
 II. 
 
 Yet keener than this blast, the pang 
 
 My own sad feelings dart ; 
 Though dismal clouds above me hang, 
 
 More horror shrouds my heart. 
 
 III. 
 
 Once was I bless'd by genial skies, 
 
 Gilding my prospects fair ; 
 Whate'er the earth's rich womb supplies, 
 
 Was freely mine to share. 
 
 f3
 
 1U2 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But wealth, which from the wise and good, 
 Like wholesome streams, will flow — 
 
 Abus'd by folly's lavish brood, 
 Is ever found a foe. 
 
 V. 
 
 Soon as the all-receiving mould 
 
 Had clos'd upon my sire, 
 Impetuous, Warm, and uncontroll'd, 
 
 I loos'd each wild desire. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Soft pleasure spread her silken snare, 
 
 I chose her flowery way ; 
 Nor deem'd beneath that surface fair. 
 
 What latent evils lay ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Boon friends I found — the gay, the vile, 
 
 Who hated sober thougbt : 
 In me the harlot's faithless wile, 
 
 A ready victim caught.
 
 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 
 VIII. 
 
 Spurning religion's calm controul, 
 To each known duty blind — 
 
 I laid in waste those powers of soul, 
 For nobler ends design'd. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Intemperance, nurse of every vice, 
 
 Most led my heart astray ; 
 Once drawn upon this dangerous ic< 
 
 My course I could not stay. 
 
 X. 
 
 Inspir'd by Circe's poisonous draught, 
 
 My spirits wildly flew ; 
 When low they fell, again I quafTtl, 
 
 Their ardour to renew. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Now sunk in thoughtless ease, supine, — 
 Now whirl'd in folly's stream, 
 
 I thought the earth's best joy was mine— 
 'T was but a passing dream, 
 
 103
 
 104 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Which sooth'd me, while the maddening spell 
 On each lull'd sense, was shed : 
 
 The charm was broke — the rapture fell — 
 I woke to grief and dread. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Thou God ! who saw'st a creature vile, 
 
 Long tread the rebel's path, 
 Wert pleas'd thine ill-requited smile, 
 
 To hide a while, in wrath. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Illusive riches fled afar 
 
 From one who scorn'd a guide, 
 And fiercely, ruin's whelming car, 
 
 Roll'd o'er my fallen pride. 
 
 XV. 
 
 The aid of friends I hop'd to prove — 
 
 No friend, alas ! came near ; 
 The voice that once breath'd sounds of love, 
 
 Now harshly smote mine ear.
 
 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 105 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The virtuous I had shunn'd before, 
 
 To them I could not fly, — 
 The vile, who once had shar'd my store, 
 
 Now pass'd disdainful by. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Compell'd to quit that peaceful home> 
 
 Which long my sires possess'd, 
 Far from those dearest haunts to roam, 
 
 Where childhood's hours were bless'd — 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 An out-cast on the world's wild scene, 
 
 I took my dreary way, 
 With frenzied soul, with sullen mien, 
 
 Which shunn'd the glance of day. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Thus do I wander, stung by shame, 
 
 And sin-created woes ; 
 While life's once warm and buoyant flame, 
 
 Now dimly, feebly glows. 
 
 f 5
 
 106 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The sensual joys, so rashly sought, 
 Left dreadful pains behind ; 
 
 Too dearly were those pleasures bought. 
 Wild fires which shone to blind. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 As now, my woe-dimm'd eyes I roll 
 
 On thee, unhallow'd joy ! 
 I start, to think a hag so foul, 
 
 Should lure me — and destroy. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The gilded mask which then conceal'd 
 Thy blackness from my view, 
 
 Is torn — thy face is now reveal'd, 
 In its own hideous hue. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Yet, ah ! so long thy guilty ways 
 
 Did I unthinking pace, 
 That e'en, while horrified, I gaze, 
 
 Still could I thee embrace.
 
 WAIL OF THE PROFLIGATE. 107 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 In vain — all hopeful dreams are fled, 
 
 At dire misfortune's blow, 
 While fiends, tormenting, rise instead, 
 
 Mocking my deepest woe. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 These rags, the last sad wreck of pride, 
 
 111 brave the bitter shower ; 
 Cold creeps within the vital tide, 
 
 While raging pains devour. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 O'er my torn frame appalling raves 
 
 The tempest loud and drear ; 
 A fragile bark on wintry waves — 
 
 I see no haven near. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 On future worlds, while rudely driven 
 
 O'er this, which frowns so wild, 
 I dread to think — in mercy, Heaven ! 
 
 Save ! save ! thine erring child.
 
 108 
 
 POLAND'S LAST STRUGGLE. 
 
 That fiery spirit, nurs'd on Gallia's shore, 
 While flow'd her proudest streets with native gore, — 
 That curb'd and crush'd a guilty despot hand, 
 Whu vainly strove, to rule with iron hand, — 
 And in low Belgium's slaughter-reeking ground 
 Spread carnage, fire, and ruin swift around ; 
 Whose voice could each proud German Lord appal, 
 While Alpine mountains echoed hack the call ; — 
 Which for a moment rous'd the sons of Spain, 
 And e'en inspir'd Ausonia's abject train ; — 
 Filling Earth's tyrants with wild rage and dread, 
 Lest wrath so kindled might contagious spread, 
 And whelm the systems, which insulting stood, 
 On prostrate nations — stain'd with patriot blood : — 
 That spirit still prevails, and yet will reign, 
 Till Right, triumphant, burst each galling chain. 
 Now by those streams which lave thy fertile land, 
 Realm ! once redeem'd by Sobieski's hand, 
 Where Kosciusko toil'd in vain to stay, 
 Suwarrow, fiendlike, trampling on his prey ;
 
 Poland's last struggle. 109 
 
 What time unthron'd, expos'd to lofty scorn, 
 (Thv monarch wept — his bleeding Poland torn 
 To swell the empire of three grasping powers,) 
 There freedom fires, again wild discord lours. 
 From Warsaw's walls, and from a nation's ire, 
 To their cold realms the Muscovites retire ; 
 The northern tyrant, who would Heaven defy, 
 Arms his fierce hordes, and slaughter is the cry: 
 The Poles resolv'd — unyielding as a rock — 
 On death or freedom — sternly wait the shock. 
 
 Secure of conquest, proud the invaders rush 
 With giant strength, an infant's power to crush ; 
 As the rough waves dash thundering on the shore, 
 The Russians charge, while murderous engines roar: 
 And as the rocky shore " resists the waves/' 
 So Poland meets them and their fury braves ; 
 In dread suspense the listening nations wait, 
 Though many pity, none relieve her state ; 
 She leads her sons devoted to the war, 
 And on her breast, is beaming glory's star : 
 Her deeds will long to future ages tell, 
 How patriot arms did ruthless power repel ; 
 In her revives a second Spartan fame, 
 As baffled Russia shares the Persian's shame.
 
 HO Poland's LAST STRUGGLE. 
 
 While in each host, disease holds deadly sway, 
 I leave them struggling in the horrid fray ; 
 Yet still dark clouds o'er Poland's cause impend. 
 And she, though victor, must to numbers bend : 
 The self-styl'd holy potentates may smile 
 To see her fall — brief be their triumph vile ! 
 Though fairest realms may wither at their tread, 
 Yet vengeance sure will reach the guilty head. 
 The)? boast the emblems of the Prince of Peace — 
 His Word bids war and fierce oppression cease : 
 Loud impious praise their tongues ascribe to God- 
 While He — o'er murder shakes his fearful rod : 
 Though earthly wrong, defy weak mortal might,. 
 His judgment stands, who will uphold the right : 
 He marks what grieves his lowest children here. 
 To them speaks comfort, to their tyrants fear : 
 For all shall learn, — vengeance is his alone, 
 And guilt shall tremble when his wrath is known.
 
 Ill 
 
 TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 The charms of sweet Friendship, what tongue can 
 unfold, 
 
 And all its endearments declare ? 
 T is a treasure which may not be liken'd to gold — 
 Though gain'd for a moment — uncertain to hold, 
 
 And, deem'd the more precious, as rare ; 
 
 II. 
 
 A blessing, by wisdom celestial design'd, 
 
 Could we our own Happiness know ! 
 So, o'er this fair world, all harmonious combined, 
 Might brother with brother be social and kind, 
 
 And mutual assistance bestow. 
 
 III. 
 
 But 't is not that friendship, so smooth and so fair,— 
 Assum'd when the motive is gain ; —
 
 112 TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Nor the mask, which the vile and the treacherous wear. 
 To lav for the artless a guilt-woven snare, — 
 Unseen, till they writhe from the pain : — 
 
 IV. 
 
 Nor a thing which is worn, or cast off, like our dress, 
 
 With fortune's wild changeable gale, — 
 5 T is the sacred esteem which true bosoms possess, 
 That in periods of trial, of joy, or distress, 
 With the same glowing force will prevail. 
 
 More fair than a glance of the sun's cheering ray, 
 When from gloom he emerges to light, 
 
 Is the smile in the face of a friend we survey ; 
 
 And when it is seen in adversity's day, 
 That smile is transcendently bright. 
 
 VI. 
 
 How lovely is Friendship like this ! how divine ! 
 
 Her beauties perpetual bloom — 
 At morning, at noon, her full brilliance will shine, 
 She sheds a mild grace on life's gentle decline, 
 
 And solemnly rests on the tomb.
 
 113 
 
 ODE TO HUMANITY. 
 
 I. 
 
 Sweet Power ! celestial in thy birth, 
 O shed upon this tortur'd earth 
 
 Thy precious soothing balm ; — 
 Come — cheer us with thy look benign, 
 More fair than gem from Indian mine ; 
 In fiercest storm one word of thine 
 
 Will breathe a grateful calm. 
 
 II. 
 
 While millions groan in anguish deep, 
 Or loud lament, or silent weep, 
 
 In want's pale thraldom held — 
 While Commerce droops with harrowing care, 
 While plague rides baleful on the air, 
 Leaving swift death, and chill despair, 
 
 By hand Divine impell'd : —
 
 114 ODE TO HUMANITY. 
 
 III. 
 
 O ! let thy genial spirit rest 
 
 On all, with wealth and influence bless' cL 
 
 Teach rigid souls to feel — 
 For those who sink in misery's tide ; — 
 Nor selfish joys alone provide, 
 But use the means by Heaven supplied, 
 
 To spread unbounded weal. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Where war with gory flag unfurl'd. 
 Hath desolating ruin hurl'd, 
 
 While nations mourn the blow, — 
 Let tyrants learn thy Holy Law, 
 Bid discord cease the world to awe, 
 Nor dare the impious steel to draw — 
 
 So healing peace may flow. 
 
 V. 
 
 With Truth's appointed teachers dwell, 
 Urge them to walk with duty well — 
 
 A Heavenly prize to gain, — 
 To comfort, not oppress the flock, 
 Nor seize with hearts like flintv rock,
 
 ODE TO HUMANITY. 115 
 
 What labour claims, to brave the shock 
 
 Of want's assailing train, 
 
   
 
 VI. 
 
 In every Christian bosom glow, 
 Let all who to a Saviour bow, 
 
 Walk humbly with their guide ; 
 Since Worship's outward, formal plan, 
 Will not alone suffice for Man, 
 But like the good Samaritan, 
 
 By love must zeal be tried. 
 
 VII. 
 
 So Mortals, soften'd by thy sway, 
 May blissful live their fleeting dav, 
 
 And mutual suffering heal ; — 
 The Widow may no more complain, 
 Nor Orphan raise the piteous strain, 
 Nor sickness press the bed of pain, 
 
 Without a heart to feel. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 With thee, the drooping mourner's friend, 
 May true Religion's light extend.
 
 116 ODE TO HUMANITY. 
 
 And clouds of error clear ; 
 That so, on earth, the Just may prove 
 A foretaste sweet of Joys above, — 
 The cruel foe may melt in love, 
 
 The scoffer, learn to fear.
 
 117 
 
 THE BAPPY SURPRISE 
 
 I. 
 
 Where flowers in eve's calmness repos'd, 
 On a bank by green hawthorns o'erhung, 
 
 Sat a maid, as the day mildly clos'd, 
 Who sweetly yet mournfully sung : — 
 
 II. 
 
 How long has my William delay 'd, 
 His joys to blend dearly with mine ; 
 
 When his vows with such fervour were made, 
 Why still the lov'd union decline ? 
 
 III. 
 
 When fatigued by the toils of the day, 
 With me this lone walk he pursued, 
 
 How oft would he rapturously say, 
 That I his worn spirits renew'd.
 
 11$ THE HAPPY SURPRISE. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Is the flame that was glowing so bright 
 Extinguish'd to waken no more ? 
 
 Or, am I less fair in his sight, 
 
 Or, my heart less warm than before ? 
 
 No : still his affection for me 
 
 Is constant, devoted, and warm — 
 
 Whatever their qualities be, 
 
 None other his bosom can charm. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But the shadows of love-blighting care, 
 Float sad o'er his prospects of joy, — 
 
 Hence delays my light spirits impair, 
 And hope's soothing visions destroy. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Though the floweret bloom gaily a while — 
 Its hues the fierce tempest may blight ; 
 
 Though the sun doth now joyously smile — 
 His glory must yield to the night.
 
 THE HAPPY SURPRISE. 119 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So, beauty should charm ere 't is fled, 
 Nor give out its sweetness in vain, — 
 
 And love its felicity shed, 
 
 While brightness and fervour remain. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Soon the bloom on my cheek will decay, 
 
 The warmth in my bosom expire — 
 If anguish and chilling dela}^, 
 
 Should freeze the young springs of desire. 
 
 X. 
 
 " Ah ! no love — thy wailing forbear," 
 
 — Cried a youth who now stood by her side ; 
 
 " Dost thou think that soft bosom to tear, 
 " One thought in this heart could abide ? 
 
 XI. 
 
 " For thou art the sole earthly prize, 
 
 " Which, toiling, I sigh to obtain ; 
 " The flame which affection supplies, 
 
 " Unwasted shall cheer thee again."
 
 120 THE HAPPY SURPRISE. 
 
 XII. 
 
 We met, we convers'd, and we lov'd, 
 
 — Resolv'd nought our union should stay, 
 
 Still Prudence my ardour reprov'd, 
 And bade me consider the way. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 I ponder'd, then strove with new zeal — 
 Though as yet only small is my store, 
 
 If the pain which I gave, I can heal, 
 Now take me, I'm thine evermore. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 True love, all-subduing, will slight 
 
 The dull calculations of care ; 
 Lo ! joy's hopeful shore, in our sight — 
 
 Heaven grant that our voyage be fair !
 
 121 
 
 A GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND 
 HACKFALL. 
 
 I. 
 
 How happy he whose pressing cares 
 
 A short but kind vacation yield ; 
 Who quits his wealth-returning wares, 
 
 To stray in Nature's boundless field : 
 Where griping avarice hath not steel'd, 
 
 Nor sinful pleasure stain'd the heart, 
 Her noblest works, to all reveal'd, 
 
 A sweet unfailing joy impart. 
 
 II. 
 
 Let minds which nought but wealth can move, 
 These uncorrupted joys deride — 
 
 G
 
 122 A GLANCE AT STUDLEV AND HACKFALL. 
 
 When leisure grants, be mine, to prove 
 Their pure and unexhausted tide : 
 
 Ye free, congenial souls, denied 
 By duty's call, my walk to share ; 
 
 Let me in fancy be your guide 
 
 Through regions wondrous, wild, or fair. 
 
 III. 
 
 From ancient Ripon's peaceful walls, 
 
 By whispering hope, behold me led, 
 Where Lawrence views from Studley's halls. 
 
 Around, her blooming Eden spread. 
 I pass the friendly gate, and tread 
 
 Along the noble avenue, 
 Where stately trees wave o'er my head, 
 
 Rejoicing in their Summer's hue. 
 
 IV. 
 
 To trace the art-embellish'd scene, 
 I traverse with the ready guide 
 
 Fair walks, 'mid bowers of evergreen, 
 
 And grounds with floral charms supplied- 
 
 Smooth lawns, where lucid waters glide, 
 Here broad expand — there dashing flow ;
 
 A GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND HACKFALL. i'2'i 
 
 And polish'd forms in sculptur'd pride, 
 Are imag'd in the wave below. 
 
 And all throughout th' enchanting ground 
 
 Are vistas opening to the light ; 
 Towers, streams, and uplands verdure-crown'd 
 
 Burst forth, and now elude the sight ; 
 While art's fair-moulded forms invite — 
 
 Life and its varied passions show,- 
 Breathing fell rage, or soft delight, 
 
 Or, drooping in expiring woe,-. 
 
 VI. 
 
 What raptures in the soul prevail, 
 
 When bursting from the sweet " surprize,"^ 
 Lo ! in the wood-embower'd dale, 
 
 The old majestic Abbey rise. 
 The feeble muse but vainly tries 
 
 To image this transporting scene, 
 Where solemn grandeur strikes the eyes, 
 
 And beauty smiles in richest mien. 
 
 The folding-doors through which Fountain's Abbey is seen.
 
 1'24 A GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND HACK.FALL. 
 
 VII. 
 
 This ground awakes a holy fear, 
 
 Which sainted men of yore have trod ; 
 Who, bowing low, to rules severe, 
 
 Vow'd to renounce their all, for God — 
 Beneath the cold, grass-waving clod, 
 
 Their bones are mingled with the clay, 
 And rapine at a despot's nod, 
 
 Hath laid their walls in sad decay. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Soft luxury, in rosy bloom, 
 
 Long ere they fell, corrupting came : 
 And sin, which hastes a nation's doom, 
 
 Branded a hallow'd class with shame. 
 But this a lesson may proclaim 
 
 To us, who will not judgment fear; 
 Nor serve that Power with purest flame 
 
 Whose hand to help is ever near. 
 
 IX. 
 
 This pile, while art can yield delight, 
 Will man revere with homage due :
 
 A GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND HACKFALL. 125 
 
 Proof of his noble skill and might — 
 
 His empty fleeting glory too. 
 Ye fair, ye solemn haunts adieu ! 
 
 So deeply on my mind impress'd, 
 On you, whatever scene I view, 
 
 Will memory turn and fondly rest. 
 
 X. 
 
 I leave this fairest spot behind, 
 
 Where art hath lent her choicest aid ; 
 And now through ruder grounds I wind, 
 
 Which thickening woods romantic shade : 
 As in Columbian realms display'd, 
 
 Such darkening verdure here doth wave ; — 
 Mingled with crags, in horror laid, 
 
 O'er dingles deep, where waters lave. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Hackfall, within thy wondrous bound, 
 Rude Nature's throne ! I musing tread ; 
 
 I pace thy winding paths around, 
 
 With darkly-woven boughs o'erspread : 
 
 Where streams from o'er their stony bed, 
 Or here, in gentler currents creep ;
 
 *26 A GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND HACKFALL- 
 
 There waterfalls, by gladness led, 
 Steal brightly down the mossy steep, 
 
 XII. 
 
 With arduous step the hill I climb, 
 
 And resting by those rugged walls, 
 Which frown like towers of elder time, 
 
 The eye on scenes of grandeur falls ; 
 While joy in sounds unnumber'd calls, 
 
 The mountain pathway I descend ; — 
 Beneath, the gushing streamlet brawls, — 
 
 Above me, fearful crags impend. 
 
 
 
 XIII. 
 
 In the lone glen, embosom'd deep, 
 
 Neat domes and cooling grottos lie, 
 Against the rocks, with furious sweep. 
 
 The rapid Ure is rolling by: 
 Again the upward course I try ; — 
 
 This last exploring effort made, 
 From Mowbray's point exalted high 
 
 Too well are all my toils repaid,
 
 \ GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND HACKFALL. 121 
 
 XIV. 
 
 How can their joy be truly told, 
 
 Who earn before they share the prize ? — 
 Such joy is mine, as I behold 
 
 The prospect which around me lies : 
 Woods, ting'd with Summer's deepest dyes, 
 
 Hang darkly o'er the sloping height, 
 Huge frowning rocks tremendous rise, 
 
 Exulting in unshaken might. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Low in the wild sequester'd dell, 
 
 The Ure's glad waters sparkling play, 
 While dashing falls the concert swell, 
 
 And songsters chaunting on the spray : 
 I turn, and wider tracts survey, — 
 
 Towers, cots, and smiling cultur'd ground ; 
 Till scenes in distance fade away, 
 
 Where blue-ridg'd hills the landscape bound. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Delightful haunts ! the thought how dear. 
 With you in studious peace to dwell,
 
 128 a GLANCE AT STUDLEY AND HACKFALL. 
 
 Far from the crowded maddening sphere, 
 Where passions rage and discord fell ; 
 
 E'en now my heart in holy spell 
 Subjected bows to Nature's King ; 
 
 Whose voice did Heaven's fair orbs propel, 
 And bade this earth in beauty spring.
 
 129 
 
 FAREWELL TO PINDER OAKS.* 
 
 I. 
 
 How green the budding trees that grow 
 
 Round this sequester'd pile ; 
 And, cheer'd by Phoebus' kindest glow, 
 
 How fair the prospects smile : 
 
 II. 
 
 But I must quit these shady bowers, 
 ) Where songsters warble sweet, — 
 These cultur'd grounds, where opening flowers 
 Are springing 'neath my feet ; 
 
 * Written before the departure of the family of L. T. Crossley, to Liver- 
 pool ; and supposed to be spoken by the nurse-maid to the children. 
 
 G 5
 
 130 FAREWELL TO FINDER OAKS. 
 
 III. 
 
 And ye fair tender plants that grew 
 And bloom'd congenial here, 
 
 How will the parting prove to you 
 From scenes to childhood dear ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 Sweet flaxen-headed cherubs, give 
 To these your last farewell ; 
 
 Nor at the final moment grieve 
 With sorrow's plaintive swell. 
 
 For soon, full soon, we must forsake 
 These fields and gardens gay ; 
 
 From native haunts a journey take 
 To regions far away : 
 
 VI. 
 
 Where trade's stupendous fabrics rear 
 Which tell our country's might ; 
 
 Where dashing surges lull the ear, 
 And grandeur charms the sight ; —
 
 FAREWELL TO PINDER OAKS. 131 
 
 VII. 
 
 And there, where commerce spreads her store 
 
 And splendid mansions shine, 
 Where wealth-crown'd waters lave the shore 
 
 Must be your home and mine. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Yet oft "mid fashion's dazzling glare 
 
 In lone or public walks, 
 The kindling fancy, borne on air, 
 
 May rest with " Pinder Oaks." 
 
 IX. 
 
 Adieu, ye fields, — ye smiling bowers, — 
 
 Thou, lov'd abode, adieu ! 
 And oft shall we recall the hours, 
 
 So gaily passed in you.
 
 132 
 
 WELCOME TO A GOLDEN GIFT.* 
 
 I. 
 
 Thou bonny, shining piece of gold, 
 Thy form, how pleasing to behold ! 
 But dearer in my hand to hold, 
 
 And doubly pleasant 
 When I by bounteous tongue am told 
 
 Thou art a present. 
 
 II. 
 
 Illuming these dark times of woe, 
 Thy presence bids my bosom glow ; 
 A generous friend did thee bestow 
 For rhyming lays 
 
 * I had intended to have rejected this momentary play of fancy ;— the 
 subject being so sordid, the author may be accused of sordid motives in 
 publishing it. I am, however, persuaded to risk censure ; and I am very 
 willing that the uncontaminated alone shall condemn me.
 
 WELCOME TO A GOLDEN GIFT. 133 
 
 Pour'd from my brain with artless flow, 
 Which won his praise. 
 
 III. 
 
 And more substantial, dearer still, 
 With thee too well he crown'd my skill, 
 Though praise can rapturous joy instil, 
 
 Yet coin so bright, 
 Deny, I neither can nor will, 
 
 Yields more delight. 
 
 IV. 
 
 From El-dorado issuing forth, 
 Or Mexico's rich yielding earth, 
 Or in what region was thy birth ? 
 
 Thou tell'st me not : 
 But such a piece of sterling worth 
 
 Ne'er bless'd my lot. 
 
 Though narrow, envious minds decry, 
 That humble calling Poesy, — 
 Yet, when comparison I try, 
 With labour hard, —
 
 134 WELCOME TO A GOLDEN GIFT. 
 
 Long might I drudge and sweat and sigh. 
 For less reward. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Thou great and unexpected fee, 
 Thus proving doubly dear to me, 
 No spendthrift now possesses thee — 
 
 Due bounds exceeding : 
 A hopeful nest-egg shalt thou be, 
 
 While more are breeding. 
 
 VII. 
 
 T is not that I incline to hoard — 
 Nor that I need for bed and board ; 
 That earth for me may such afford 
 
 In future store, 
 
 Is all for which I e'er implor'd, 
 
 Or will irnplore. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Ere this rich comfort kindly shone, 
 Each bard-lov'd smile of favour gone,
 
 WELCOME TO A GOLDEN GIFT. 135 
 
 I wak'd my rude harp's trembling tone, 
 
 But for my pleasure : 
 Now more I feel, nor blush to own 
 
 The love of treasure. 
 
 IX. 
 
 This love predominates in all 
 
 Who rule, or serve, — who speak, or scrawl ; 
 
 And wealth-ennobled beings call 
 
 The world their own : 
 They soar aloft while others fall 
 
 Unmourn'd, unknown. 
 
 X. 
 
 Thou art the tradesman's fondest dream, — 
 For thee the stores of commerce teem, — 
 For thee is practis'd every scheme, 
 
 With zeal and spirit : — 
 For thee flows many a studied theme 
 
 Of various merit. 
 
 XI. 
 
 What thoughts dost thou command to spring 
 Thou hope of all — life's leading string ;
 
 136 WELCOME TO A GOLDEN GIFT. 
 
 That with the peasant, peer, or king, 
 Still reign'st supreme : — 
 
 My soul might soar, on endless wing, 
 O'er such a theme. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then welcome to my little store, 
 Thou precious all-commanding ore ; 
 For thee I'll twang with tenfold power, 
 
 The wild harp's string ; 
 For praise, when I can gain no more, 
 
 Content I'll sing. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 While bless'd with thee I will defy 
 
 The howling blast of penury ; 
 
 And when my breast shall heave a sigh 
 
 Of secret grief, 
 Thy glories, glancing on my eye, 
 
 May yield relief.
 
 137 
 
 TO AN EARLY FRIEND 
 
 ON' A LONG SEPARATION. 
 
 I. 
 
 Torn from thy friend — my loss severe— 
 What can repair ? who now will cheer ? 
 And yet no fond relieving tear 
 
 Is from its fountain starting. 
 As though impatient to divide 
 The bond which early friendship tied, 
 How swift the eager moments glide, 
 
 At this our final parting. 
 
 II. 
 
 But not in hopeless gloom we mourn ; — 
 
 However high, or humbly born, 
 
 Ail, all, must feel some grievous thorn — 
 
 While on this rude earth pacing : 
 Though in our transitory sphere, 
 A while dark tempests rage severe, 
 Kind gleams at intervals appear, — 
 
 Far hence the blackness chasing.
 
 136 
 
 TO AN EARLY FRIEND 
 
 III. 
 
 So far as memory can retrace, 
 
 When childhood dawn'd in morning's grace,- 
 
 When hope display'd a cloudless face, 
 
 Our hearts, our joys were blended. 
 One home, our various wants supplied, 
 We bloom'd like plants in vernal pride ; 
 The same kind care our steps to guide — 
 
 We life's wild steep ascended. 
 
 IV. 
 
 While lightly wing'd the infant hours, 
 
 Joy wanton'd in our native bowers ; 
 
 We twin'd the simple wreath of flowers — 
 
 Rich fruits their sweets bestowing : 
 When fird by boyhood's wilder blood, 
 We rang'd the mead and tangled wood, 
 And plung'd amid the cooling flood, 
 
 While Summer suns were glowing. 
 
 We trod together learning's field, 
 
 And shar'd the joys her fountains yield.
 
 ON A LONG SEPARATION. 139 
 
 While knowledge to our minds reveal'd 
 
 A glimpse of richest treasures. 
 From thence to labour snatch'd away, 
 We, doom'd in ruder walks to stray, 
 But faintly prov'd fair learning's ray, 
 
 And youth's fond-imag'd pleasures. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Too much to dreaming folly prone, 
 The world's strange arts to me unknown, 
 No cheering beam around me shone 
 
 To light a path so dreary. 
 But thou, more skill'd, wert cheer'd a while 
 By hopes which shed a fleeting smile : — 
 Those hopes are dark — now from our isle 
 
 Thou roam'st a pilgrim weary. 
 
 VII. 
 
 i Between thee and thy native shore, 
 When forests wave, and wild streams roar, 
 And ocean lifts his breakers hoar, 
 
 Oft on thy bosom stealing, — 
 The scenes which charm'd in life's sweet morn. 
 Though far from their attractions torn,
 
 140 TO AN EARLY FRIEND, &C. 
 
 Will then, by active memory borne, 
 Awake ;i tender feeling : — 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The bounds wherein thy childhood play'd, 
 The fields and groves thy light feet stray 'd, 
 The haunts of lore, and bustling trade, 
 
 The friends who much deplore thee, — 
 Who o'er thee oft delighted hung, 
 While innate wit fiow'd from thy tongue, 
 These thoughts in vivid colours sprung, — 
 
 Will rapidly come o'er thee : 
 
 IX. 
 
 Here let me cease this weak lament, 
 Resign'd to bear what Heaven hath sent ; 
 The last, last moment now is spent, 
 
 Which our close tie must sever. 
 Across yon ocean's roaring swell, 
 With thee may high protection dwell j 
 In all thy wanderings fare thee well, 
 
 My heart shall prize thee ever.
 
 141 
 
 TRIBUTE TO THE GENIUS OF BURNS 
 
 I. 
 
 Poor Burns! though oft the 'plaint of gloom, 
 Hath mourn'd thy hapless, early doom, 
 I place on thy dear honour'd tomb, 
 
 My offering slight ; 
 Where flowers through time shall sweetly bloom, 
 
 And know no blight. 
 
 II. 
 
 Who charms like thee, in modern day, 
 
 Of all that try the varied lay? 
 
 Like thee, who shakes the bigot's sway, 
 
 The proud one's might ? — 
 Or, wounds with satire's fearful play, 
 
 The foes of Right ?
 
 142 TRIBUTE TO THE GENIUS OF BURNS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Though pour'd as free as mountain air, 
 Unsmooth'd by art and tedious care, 
 No feeble thoughts thy verse impair, 
 
 No faultering lines ; 
 With Nature's happiest graces there, 
 
 Rich humour shines. 
 
 IV. 
 
 While beauty, sung by thee so well, 
 And virtue in a cottage dwell ; — 
 While love with soft transporting swell, 
 
 Young hearts will sway ; — 
 While Nature sports in grove or dell, 
 
 On bank or brae : 
 
 V. 
 
 While yet thy native streamlets flow, 
 Now rippling in the sun-beam's glow, 
 Or foaming o'er the rocky brow, 
 
 They headlong rush ; — 
 While flowers which brave all tempests grow, 
 
 While blooms the bush : —
 
 TRIBUTE TO THE GENIUS OF BURNS. 143 
 
 VI. 
 
 While sylvan warblers blithely sing, 
 While harvest's golden treasures spring, 
 While rides the storm on wintry wing, — . 
 
 'Round Burns' name, 
 In never-fading hues will cling 
 
 The wreath of fame.
 
 144 
 
 ON THE LOSS OF A PROMISING 
 YOUTH. 
 
 When some dear youth, adorn'd with outward grace, 
 And rich with noblest treasures of the mind, 
 Smit by the touch of lingering disease, 
 Which treacherous glides and scarcely seems to 
 
 smite ; — 
 His form, still shrinking with a gradual waste, — 
 His cheeks, where health late blooming sat, 
 Now thin, and pale, sad token of decay : — 
 When he, by hope's last gleam deserted, sinks 
 Beneath the stroke of all-triumphant Death, 
 How cruel to the parents is that hour ! 
 With nurture kind, they rear'd his goodly frame, 
 And planted in his tender mind, the seed 
 Of fruitful knowledge ; and they watched with care, 
 And saw with joy, a parent's fondest joy, 
 Fair buds, expanding on the precious youth, 
 Bright with the promise of a glorious harvest.
 
 ON THE LOSS OF A PROMISING YOUTH. 143 
 
 How mourn those hearts which friendship's pleas- 
 ing bond, 
 Had knit with his ; who in the flowery vale 
 Of infancy had play'd, and in the pride 
 Of glowing youth had shard their joys, with him. 
 
 To friends and kindred weeping o'er his dust, 
 What gentle voice shall whisper soothing peace? 
 A few brief years he shone — their star of hope ; 
 Then gather'd dark the clouds, the tempests rag'd ; 
 And he who might have lustre shed on earth, 
 Is shrouded low in deep involving gloom. 
 Yet haply then may resignation say : — 
 " That power which wakes the still, cold clay to life, 
 Hath hence in wisdom call'd this much-lov'd youth, 
 To change a stormy for a genial sky, — 
 The vale of suffering, for the mount of bliss." 
 
 H
 
 146 
 
 TO M- 
 
 I. 
 
 Why dost thou ask, engaging fair ! 
 
 To hear my lowly strain ; 
 When Winter, desolate and bare, 
 
 Extends his icy chain ? 
 
 II. 
 
 Now when the warbling summer-throng, 
 To warmer climes have flown ; 
 
 And none, save Robin, pours his song, 
 All cheerless and alone. 
 
 III. 
 
 Like him, beneath th' inclement sky, 
 
 I wake a feeble lay ; 
 Thy sweet commands, who would deny ? 
 
 I dare not disobey !
 
 TO M 
 
 IV. 
 
 For, as the sun through gloomy skies, 
 Darts forth one moment bright ; 
 
 So, shed those lively-glancing eyes 
 O'er this dull season — light ; 
 
 V. 
 
 Fair Hope, which in the darkest scene 
 
 Relieves our painful toil ; 
 And plants her hardy evergreen 
 
 On Winter's dreary soil ; — 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now beams auspicious on my soul, 
 And forward bears my view — 
 
 Ere many moons will circling roll, — 
 To storms and gloom adieu ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Blithe Spring will then, in virgin bloom, 
 Deck upland, grove, and vale ; 
 
 Sweet flowers will blush, and give perfume 
 To morn's enlivening gale. 
 
 147
 
 148 TO M 
 
 VIII. 
 
 From budding copse and stately tree ; . 
 
 Will nature's music rise ; 
 The notes of love ascending free, 
 
 Whilst joy around replies. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The lovers of the wood and field 
 
 Will, fondly musing, stray ; 
 While genial suns their glories yield, 
 
 To make creation gay. 
 
 X. 
 
 Dear maid, as thus through change we tread 
 
 Our pilgrimage of pain, 
 Will Hope, her genial comfort shed — 
 
 Our trembling powers sustain. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Be this our aim, to walk aright, 
 
 As she our path illumes ; — 
 Revealing climes for ever bright, 
 
 Where Spring unfading blooms.
 
 149 
 
 DAVID'S LAMENTATION. 
 
 Beauty of Israel ! on thy lofty steep, 
 
 Thine own hill, slain : — how still the mighty sleep ! 
 
 Tell not in Gath this foul enduring shame, 
 
 Nor in proud Askelon our loss proclaim ; 
 
 Lest gladness fill the daughters of the foe — 
 
 Lest heathen damsels triumph in our woe. 
 
 No more Gilboa, on thy gloomy head, 
 
 May kindly dews their fostering bounty shed ; 
 
 No streams of gladness thy cold bosom share, 
 
 Nor may first-fruits for offerings flourish there. 
 
 For shields of heroes there did vilely fall 
 
 The shield of mighty heaven-anointed Saul. 
 
 When turn'd the bow of Jonathan from blood ? 
 
 The sword of Saul, what mortal force withstood ? 
 
 How pleasant were they in this life, — how fair ; 
 
 Nor could stern death divide the royal pair : 
 
 Their speed outistripp'd the soaring eagle's flight, — 
 
 Their strength surpass'd the lordly lion's might. 
 
 Weep, maids of Israel ! o'er your monarch's grave, 
 
 Ye shine in scarlet, which his bounty gave.
 
 150 
 
 DAVID S LAMENTATION. 
 
 How are the mighty fallen in the fight ! 
 Thou, noble prince, wert pierc'd on thine own height . 
 Thy loss, my brother, wakes my tenderest grief— 
 In all my cares, thy kindness gave relief; 
 What wondrous love thy soul to me inclin'd, — 
 Love which surpass'd the love of woman kind. 
 How fell the mighty on the mountain's breast, — 
 Perish'd the warrior's arms, and bow'd his stately 
 
 crest !
 
 151 
 
 REPROOF OF A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 
 
 Eci XKSIASTES V. 
 
 Walk thou with wisdom to the place of prayer, 
 Give patient ear, not fools' vain homage there ; 
 Who think no evil rests upon their head, 
 And this bare service place in goodness' stead. 
 Let not rash words from lips unhallow'd fall, 
 Nor in rude haste upon thy Maker call : 
 He dwells in Heaven, which mortal cannot see, — 
 Thou, but on earth, so few thy words must be : 
 From many cares will rise the troublous dream, 
 And fools are known where words abundant teem. 
 To pay thv vows to God be thou not slow, 
 Who can no joy in thoughtless mortals know : 
 Redeem thy pledge, nor let a promise sleep — 
 Better vow not, than vowing, fail to keep. 
 Let hot thy mouth thy flesh to error lead, 
 Nor to the angel thus for error plead : — 
 " Why should thy voice offend the mighty God ! 
 O'er thy weak works, why shakes his threatening 
 rod?"
 
 152 REPROOF OF A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 
 
 Thy many words, thy many dreams are vain, 
 But fear thou God, and God will thee sustain. 
 
 Whene'er thine eyes behold the friendless poor, 
 And all the cruel ills which they endure; 
 How the land groans, which power, not justice sways, 
 O let not this thy simple wonder raise ! 
 Though proud ones taunt while injur'd worth com- 
 plains, 
 Yet One regards, who o'er the highest reigns. 
 Doth not the earth for all her profit yield ? 
 The king himself is nourish'd by the field. 
 He that loves wealth, no lasting pleasure proves, 
 Nor he from plenty, who abundance loves : 
 When stores increase more to partake them rise, — 
 What good is wealth unus'd ? save to the eyes. 
 Sweet peaceful sleep, the sons of labour share, 
 Whether they much partake, or hardly fare : 
 Are thus the slumbers of the great man bless'd ? 
 No ! his abundance tears away his rest. 
 
 Beneath the sun no greater curse is found, 
 Than riches kept their owner's peace to wound ; 
 These, these, must perish, which his soul adores, — 
 The son may want, who longs to seize his stores. 
 Naked as first he caught the beam of day, 
 Shall he return,— nought can he bear away :
 
 REPROOF OF A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 153 
 
 This dreaded lot, the child of earth will find, 
 Who sighs to grasp, and toiling, grasps — the wind : 
 He eats his bread, while darkness veils his eyes, 
 The prey of wrath and sorrow, till he dies. 
 
 In all I see, of good and pleasant here, 
 Sweet is this sight, beyond all others dear ; — 
 Man, who enjoys what none should him deny, 
 The good which Heaven and his own hands supply : 
 And man, endow'd with riches and with power, 
 Who shares with gladness, the free bounteous shower: 
 No painful thought recalls his dear-flown days, 
 Warm thanks his full heart yields, and Heaven re- 
 wards his praise. 
 
 h b
 
 154 
 
 HONEY WELL. 
 
 How dear is the spot where the pure waters flow, 
 Lov'd haunt, — which the youthful so feelingly know ; 
 O sweet is the sound of the evening breeze, 
 That murmuring plays through the dark waving trees ; 
 And sweet are the notes of the blithe linnet's song, 
 That warbles with gladness the green leaves among : — 
 But sweeter by far is the voice of the maid, 
 Who lives in yon cottage beneath the cool shade ; 
 With the flowers of that garden no flowers may com- 
 pare, 
 But she who smiles on them is loveliest there. 
 Since bliss so exalted, I never may know, — 
 With her, to share all which this earth can bestow, 
 O may the dear maid in her chosen one find 
 A mind that is noble, a heart that is kind ; 
 That the smile, playing bright, on their gay bridal 
 
 morn, 
 May shine, their mild evening of life to adorn.
 
 HONEY WELL. 155 
 
 How guilty the wretch that unfaithful could be, 
 And coldly a tear on that countenance see. 
 
 In friendship alone can I welcome the maid. 
 When bless'd by her smile I am amply repaid : 
 Enraptur'd I rove while the sprightly birds sing, 
 In the meadows and groves near the pure Honey- 
 Spring.
 
 156 
 
 MORNING CONTEMPLATIONS. 
 
 Pure and refreshing flows the breath of morn, — 
 So kind, it scarcely stirs the flowers of Spring ; 
 
 The grass-blades shoot — peeps forth the tender corn, 
 And budding groves with merry anthems ring. 
 
 II. 
 
 The sweet lark carols, rising from the clod, — 
 When lost to sight, yet still his numbers charm ; 
 
 As thus he pours his earliest hymn to God, 
 
 My flowing thoughts with kindred rapture warm : 
 
 III. 
 
 If joy, to hear an unseen minstrel, springs 
 In worldly souls, what will the righteous feel 
 
 When rais'd on meditation's soaring wings, 
 On their rapt fancy, harps seraphic steal ?
 
 MORNING CONTEMPLATIONS. 157 
 
 IV. 
 
 Call it not weak delusion, — when they prove 
 Visions of transport on this mournful vale ; 
 
 Nor my thoughts vain, — which seek to mount above, 
 While strains aerial float on morning's gale. 
 
 Such joy, before aught earthly, let me share, 
 Though fools deride and baneful sceptics sneer ; 
 
 That time must come, when Truth, supremely fair, 
 Will stand triumphant, and her foes shall fear : 
 
 VI. 
 
 As sure will she dispel each heavy shade, 
 That error cast before her holy mien ; 
 
 As now the sun, in glorious beams array 'd, 
 Refulgent bursts yon parted clouds between. 
 
 VII. 
 
 From gazing fondly on the spacious sky, 
 Where gold-tints, fading, blend with deepening blue: 
 
 Ecstatic rolling, let the fervid eye, 
 
 Below, the works of power Almighty view.
 
 158 MORNING CONTEMPLATIONS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Cheer'd by warm rays and friendly showers, the meads 
 In robes of fresher, livelier hue are seen ; 
 
 Fair smile the woods, as Spring her verdure leads, — 
 In mingled shades of dark, reliev'd with green. 
 
 IX. 
 
 With nice research, how pleasing to unfold, 
 
 The forms of matter which compose this earth : 
 
 In these the great omniscient cause behold — 
 Of light, of motion, and prolific birth. 
 
 X. 
 
 But who can speak of power which knows no bound? — 
 From the tall trees, whose branches wide expand, 
 
 To the fair flowers, like smiling gems around, 
 We trace the wonders of the master's hand. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Admire him, in that orb, whose potent beam 
 Now gladdens, vivifies, and brightens all ; 
 
 Behold him, in that gentle, fostering stream, 
 Sent on the grass and springing herbs to fall.
 
 MORNING CONTEMPLATIONS. 159 
 
 XII. 
 
 His bounty gave yon herds, which graze the field, — 
 The flocks, which yield our country's pride, the fleece, 
 
 For man's sole use, with all which earth can yield, — 
 Would man but share these ample gifts in peace ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Then how can we, presumptuous, thoughtless, vain. 
 
 Forget that God who all these blessings gave ; — 
 Harden'd by pride, His holy laws disdain, 
 
 Who freely pardons all who truly crave. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 He, who for sin, the precious ransom paid, 
 
 Is ever near, though pain and gloom surround : 
 
 Safe may we walk where treacherous snares are laid, 
 Through Him, in whom all love, all joy, is found. 
 
 XV. 
 
 How poor are earth's rewards compar'd to this ! 
 
 Ensnaring wealth, and glory's phantom show : — 
 Then let us not forego undying bliss, 
 
 To taste of springs which but a moment flow.
 
 160 MORNING CONTEMPLATIONS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Whilst here we muse on wonders, let as raise 
 Thanksgiving to the all-sustaining power ; 
 
 For on the humblest, who devoutly praise, 
 
 Will nurturing love, and grace enduring shower.
 
 161 
 
 ON THE OBSERVATORY 
 
 AT MONK-BRETTON, NEAR BARNSLEY. 
 
 Fair tower ! that braves the flying storm, 
 
 When vengeance arms its wing ; 
 I mark thy bold, commanding form, 
 
 While thoughts spontaneous spring. 
 How sweet ! from thy wind-shaken brow, 
 To gaze on all, which thou canst show, 
 
 Where charms so richly blend. 
 Towns, mansions, far around, are seen, 
 And through dark woods and meadows green, 
 
 Smooth glancing waters bend. 
 
 II. 
 
 Here may the child of leisure stand 
 To spend a pleasant hour ; 
 
 And see far o'er this smiling land 
 Each steeple, hall, and tower ; —
 
 162 ON THE OBSERVATORY 
 
 The hills which form the prospect's bound, 
 The fertile plains and valleys, crown' d 
 
 With herbage, fruit, and grain ; 
 And mark the bustling race of man, 
 Pursuing each his chosen plan, 
 
 A hopeful end to gain. 
 
 III. 
 
 Lo ! o'er Dearne's stream, that gently glides, 
 
 Bleak Barnsley's cloud-wreath'd head ; 
 Where trade, not kind to all, provides 
 
 Her children's well-earn'd bread. 
 Beyond the grounds of Stainbro' bloom, 
 Where Strafford rul'd — o'er whose dark doom 
 
 A monarch's tears were shed. 
 O'er hills grove-tufted, seen to rise 
 Gay Wakefield's spire assails the skies ; 
 
 Now, Beaumont's woodlands spread. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Here, Hickleton's exalted pile, 
 
 There, Wharncliffe's borders view : 
 
 Dear Wentworth's beauties yonder smile, 
 In Summer's liveliest hue.
 
 AT MONK-BRETTON. 
 
 163 
 
 Should optic power assist the sight. 
 The eye may speed its joyful flight, 
 
 Where nobler scenes expand — 
 See Ebor's sacred splendour smile — 
 With awe regard that mighty pile ! — 
 
 The glory of our land. 
 
 Thou* lifts thy head above the plain, 
 
 In monumental pride, 
 Like landmark, seen from stormy main, 
 
 The seaman's course to guide : 
 Or, like some friendly beacon's form, 
 Uprear'd to warn against the storm, 
 
 When war's mad horrors gloom : 
 As when Napoleon awed the world, 
 Ere his vast hopes were prostrate hurl'd, 
 
 By dread relentless doom. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Art thou a calm retreat, design'd 
 For wisdom's studious race ? 
 
 The Observatory.
 
 164 ON THE OBSERVATORY, &C. 
 
 From whence the truth-delighting mind, 
 May soar in boundless space — 
 
 On each revolving planet gaze — 
 
 The polar star, the comet's blaze — 
 Orion's brilliant glance — 
 
 And every constellation bright, 
 
 Which, gleaming through the veil of night, 
 Illumes the wide expanse. 
 
 VII. 
 
 If vers'd in astronomic lore 
 
 I could the tube apply ; 
 With Herschell's spirit, to explore 
 
 The orb-illumin'd sky — 
 Or science in fair walks pursue, 
 Which heaven-bless'd Newton laid to view, 
 
 I glad with thee would stay — 
 So, beaming from thy stately brow, 
 O'er this dark region long might glow 
 
 The light of learning's ray.
 
 165 
 
 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 I. 
 
 This day shall not unhonour'd fly, 
 What others do, one can but try, 
 
 A birth-day carol sing ! 
 Not to proclaim the noble birth 
 Of one ordain'd to shine on earth, 
 
 A statesman, peer, or king ; — 
 
 II. 
 
 Nor yet a warrior or divine ; 
 
 I would not stoop to grace the shrine 
 
 Of pride, with fulsome strain ; 
 I simply would commemorate, 
 A youth arriv'd at man's estate, 
 
 Myself a humble swain.
 
 166 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 III. 
 
 How chang'd those scenes of fond delight, 
 Since first, O muse ! a stripling wight, 
 
 Thy flowery" path I tried ; 
 That infant harp I dash in twain, 
 For manhood now assumes the rein, 
 
 O'er rugged tracks to guide. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Adieu ! ye sweetly-flowing hours, 
 
 When childhood danc'd in verdant bowers, 
 
 Unknown to care and gloom ; 
 When infant fancy plum'd its wing, 
 Portraying one eternal Spring, 
 
 In undecaying bloom. 
 
 V. 
 
 Too fast did those dear moments flow, 
 When boyhood, warm'd with sunny glow, 
 
 Indulg'd in hope's gay dream- 
 When education's power, refin'd, 
 Came gently on the uncultur'd mind, 
 
 As falls the sun's glad beam.
 
 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 167 
 
 VI. 
 
 Forsaking since the haunts of lore, 
 I launch'd from fancy's pleasing shore, 
 
 On real stormy life ; 
 Where men with men fierce conflicts wage, 
 Where avarice, pride, ambition, rage — 
 
 Oppression, fraud, and strife. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Thus urged along, life's varied scenes 
 I've view'd in part ; have pass'd my teens ; 
 
 When hearts with warmth expand ; 
 While youth's wild thoughts impetuous roll, 
 A flame more fervent fires the soul, 
 And few its force withstand. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 That flame is love — precarious bliss ; 
 Though woman's smile, or sweeter kiss, 
 
 Can best inspire the tongue ; 
 It's torturing power I spurn from me, 
 Unless my sombre prospect be 
 
 With brighter stars o'erhung.
 
 168 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 IX. 
 
 For years the muse's chorded shell, 
 Like Chrysalis in dormant cell, 
 
 With me in torpor lay ; 
 Now, reconcil'd to scenes of strife, 
 An insect, fluttering into life. 
 
 I sport in transient day. 
 
 X. 
 
 To day, I'm what is call'd of age, 
 Thus far advanc'd upon my stage, 
 
 Yet form'd no final plan : 
 Th' apostle said, — When fully grown, 
 He left all childish acts alone, — 
 
 In word and deed a man. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Few tread his manly, righteous way ; 
 By all who preach, and all who pray, 
 
 His love is not possess'd ; 
 In garb of sanctity array'd, 
 How many by their deeds have made 
 
 Religion but a jest
 
 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 XII. 
 
 I, luckless wight, scarce fit for this, 
 Or, for a sphere of perfect bliss, 
 
 With dark presage begin ; 
 But shall I change ? as change I may. 
 Or blindly keep the beaten way, 
 
 Of smooth alluring sin ? 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The last most like — by syrens led, 
 (Though treacherous,) soft, and fair to tread. 
 
 Is pleasure's soothing glade ; 
 Too late, sincerely I may mourn, 
 That, by wild passions onward borne, 
 
 In error's path I stray'd. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ah me ! that youth should madly choose, 
 Like wanton courser, bounding loose, 
 
 To chase where pleasure flies ; 
 How much unlike Alcides' choice, 
 Who, charm'd by modest virtue's voice, 
 
 Pursued a nobler prize. 
 
 169
 
 170 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Upgrown, how few from evil turn ! 
 
 The checks of conscience still they spun, 
 
 And warnings are forgot ; 
 Vice triumphs, spite of preachers' pains, 
 The rogue, the hypocrite remains, 
 
 The reprobate, and sot, 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The love of mirth, of wit, and wine, 
 
 This last, (thank Heaven,) no fault of mine, 
 
 And love of wealth and fame, 
 Are each indulg'd by man and youth. 
 While virtue, honesty, and truth, 
 
 Can few staunch votaries claim. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But why should I, unskill'd, unwise, 
 On others harshly moralize, 
 
 And not myself restrain ; 
 That valued maxim — " Know Thyself," 
 Too oft is laid upon the shelf, 
 
 By busy meddlers vain.
 
 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 171 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And do I know myself? ah ! no, 
 As feelings prompt, I forward go, 
 
 Unconscious where I tend ; 
 While some on me with wonder glance, 
 Or scorn which blends with ignorance ; — 
 
 And kindly some befriend : 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Shall I yet twang my trembling harp, 
 While self-elected critics carp, 
 
 And fools their verdict pass ; 
 While generous censors are but few, 
 Whose truly just and sound review, 
 
 Might prove a faithful glass. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Upon the world my verse to throw, 
 Already fill'd to overflow, 
 
 Appears indeed unwise : 
 Though tempted by the love of gain. 
 Or, throbbing, eager to obtain 
 
 Fame's more unstable prize.
 
 172 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 For wealth, can short-liv'd man implore ? — 
 A guard from penury, at my door 
 
 Would amply serve for me : 
 I scorn the grovelling hireling band, 
 Who, for their trifling toils, demand 
 
 So undeserv'd a fee. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 T<> please my friends or soothe my breast, 
 I'll sing when fancy prompts me best, 
 
 As truth and reason guide — 
 Since Heaven hath powers bestow'd on man, 
 To aid the universal plan, 
 
 Those powers should be applied. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 For in this world of care and grief, 
 h >d deeds will yield the best relief 
 The darkest moments cheer, 
 And thus the feeble powers I boast, 
 Should not in wasteful sloth be lost, 
 But virtuous toil revere.
 
 ON ARRIVING AT MANHOOD. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 My actions, time alone will tell, 
 If I employ my talent well, 
 
 The good will rest with me ; 
 And now, O muse, if gifted, say 
 Before another natal day 
 
 What shall my portion be ? 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Shall I he seeking, void of skill, 
 For peace, in gloom and error still, 
 
 Or, by sweet mercy's aid, — 
 Be rid of future doubts and fears, — 
 Or mov'd from this dark vale of tears 
 
 In earth's cold bosom laid. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 How futile is the wish to know, 
 What none of mortal mould can show- 
 Events of future day ! 
 Now spurning vain desires from me — 
 Resignd to Heaven's supreme decree, 
 
 I end my wandering lay. 
 
 i 3 
 
 173
 
 174 
 
 IN MEMORY OF DR. CHAiS. OXLEY, 
 
 (LATE OF PONTEFRACT.) 
 
 
 Though death with keen unerring dart, 
 Despising all the powers of art, 
 Hath cut, so soon, the vital chord 
 Of one who long will he deplor'd ; 
 In whose superior, cultur'd mind, 
 Were wisdom's noblest stores combin'd : 
 Though he from earthly sphere has rent, 
 A life in useful service spent ; 
 By whose severe untimely doom, 
 The brightest hopes are sunk in gloom, 
 The fairest prospect is — a tomb : 
 Though he has quench'd the purest flame. 
 That ever breath'd in mortal frame ; 
 And though the blow from us doth sever 
 A heart that will be cherish'd ever ; — 
 This consolation cheers us still, 
 The ransom'd soul he cannot kill :
 
 IN MEMORY OF DR. OXLEY. IT" 
 
 Which, pregnant with celestial breath, 
 
 Defies the rigid grasp of death, — 
 
 Leaves far behind the cheerless night, 
 
 To breathe in realms of purest light; — 
 
 Ascends, exulting, from the sod, 
 
 To worship at the throne of God. 
 
 That such may be the glorious meed, 
 
 Of Him whom Heaven hath doom'd to bleed ; 
 
 Inspir'd by faith, we fimly trust, 
 
 While weeping o'er his sacred dust.
 
 176 
 
 A PRAYER. 
 
 I. 
 
 Thou Power ador'd ! whom all may find, 
 
 That seek in truth thy way ; 
 Who art to all thy creatures kind, 
 
 Though far from thee we stray ; — 
 
 II. 
 
 Thou seest thy trembling suppliant bow, 
 Thou hear'st his lowly prayer ; 
 
 Preserve me from my treacherous foe, 
 And burst his cruel snare. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thy love, so radiant, yet so mild, 
 
 Illum'd my darkest hour ; 
 For e'en upon a wayward child 
 
 Thy blessings freely pour.
 
 A PRAYER. I* 
 
 IV. 
 
 Before my eyes, in full design, 
 
 That path of mercy lay, 
 Which leads to where thy glories shine. 
 
 Yet strait and rude the way. 
 
 V. 
 
 Though conscious of thy presence here. 
 
 And lighted by thy smile, 
 Yet oft the rebel, lurking near, 
 
 Will my weak heart beguile. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But Thou, whose voice controuls the wind. 
 
 And stills the maddening sea, 
 My fierce conflicting powers canst bind. 
 
 Subservient all to thee. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Once more, in mercy, stretch thine arm — 
 
 Restrain the lawless tide, 
 
 Of passions flowing high and warm, 
 
 Which none but Heaven can guide. 
 
 i 5
 
 178 A PRAVEH. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Teach me, in every state, to know 
 Thy precepts, and revere ; 
 
 Since all I have to thee I owe, 
 Move in my soul thy fear. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Grant me that meek, submissive frame, 
 
 When I can truly say, 
 I seek not joy, I ask not fame, 
 
 To smile, 'til time decay. 
 
 X. 
 
 Not lur'd by folly's idle dream, 
 Nor honour's cheating show : — 
 
 Lord, bow me to thy will supreme, 
 Who all my wants must know. 
 
 XL 
 
 Though oft above our path of woes, 
 Clouds frown in dark array ; 
 
 Their gloom, how light ! if, at the close, 
 Thy beams celestial play.
 
 \ PRAYER. 179 
 
 XII. 
 
 When life's last faintly-heaving breath, 
 From its frail home is flown, 
 
 Through Him, who lov'd us unto death- 
 O make me then thy own.
 
 180 
 
 THE EMIGRANT MOTHER TO HER 
 FIRST-BORN* 
 
 First-fruit of those who love thet 
 Lone floweret of the wild ! 
 
 Whose little features prove thee 
 My own— my precious child. 
 
 II. 
 
 How warms thy mother's bosom, 
 While thee her arms caress ; 
 
 Thou tender, opening blossom, 
 That charm'st the wilderness. 
 
 * The female emigrant whose departure from England is mentioned in 
 the poem at page 73. is married to a brother of the author's. This child ot 
 the woods, whose birth will make the Canadian solitudes more pleasant and 
 i ndurable, is the offspring of their faithful affection.
 
 THE EMIGRANT MOTHER, &C. 181 
 
 III. 
 
 Kind Heaven in love provided, 
 
 And gave this cherish'd dower, 
 When from all else divided, 
 
 To cheer my lonely hour. 
 
 IV. 
 
 For while thy sire is bending 
 
 In duty's arduous field, 
 Thy voice thy smiles sweet blending 
 
 A grateful solace yield. 
 
 V. 
 
 For him the rude sea daring, 
 I left my home behind ; 
 
 Dear social ties all tearing, — 
 Here more than home I find. 
 
 VI. 
 
 His arm the strong axe wielding, 
 Hath laid the forest low, 
 
 And rais'd this kind roof, shielding 
 From raving storm and snow.
 
 182 THE EMIGRANT MOTHER 
 
 VII. 
 
 And now, while vernal pleasure 
 And beauty, cheer our land, 
 
 The future harvest-treasure 
 Is scatter'd from his hand. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 T is our's his toil to lighten, 
 In deepest cares to please, — 
 
 His harass'd looks to brighten, 
 At eve's kind hour of ease. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Fair o'er yon forest bowers 
 The last mild sunbeams stay ; 
 
 And rich from breathing flowers 
 The vesper breezes play. 
 
 X. 
 
 To our lone cot retiring, 
 His meal will we prepare ; 
 
 For lo ! new joy inspiring — 
 He comes to bless us there.
 
 TO HER FIRST-BORN. 1&3 
 
 XI. 
 
 Though painful tasks achieving, 
 
 No murmur leaves his breast ; 
 Content, a balm relieving, 
 
 Bids aching trouble rest. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Dear hope — her aid bestowing, 
 
 Sees now a brighter day, 
 When streams of plenty flowing, 
 
 Will here in gladness play. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Lo ! rugged Nature, bending, 
 To nerves unshrinking, yields ; 
 
 And forests dark ascending, 
 Give place to smiling fields. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And oh, forgive, just Heaven, 
 
 A pleading mother's love ; 
 To thee, sweet babe, be given 
 
 These better days to prove !
 
 184 THE EMIGRANT MOTHER, &C. 
 
 XV J 
 
 That Power — o'er earth so spacious, 
 Who rules, in town, or wild — 
 
 Even here, all good — all gracious, 
 Will care for thee, my child ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 His bounty free will nourish — 
 Our fondest labours aid ; 
 
 And bid our offspring flourish, 
 When low our heads are laid. 

 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 * Here are all the Names which have as yet come to hand— care has been 
 exercised in arranging them so as to give satisfaction— where the first name of a 
 subscriber has not been ascertained a dash is substituted. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Duke of Devonshire, Chatsworth 4 
 
 Archbishop of York, Bishopthorpe 2 
 
 Karl Fitzwilliam, Wentworth-House 4 
 
 Earl of Carlisle, Castle-Howard, 2 
 
 Countess of Carlisle, Do 2 
 
 Lord Wharncliffe, Wortley-Hall 4 
 
 Lord Cavendish, 
 
 Lad v Cavendish, 
 
 Viscount Milton, Wentworth-House 2 
 
 Viscount Morpeth, Castle-Howard 4 
 
 Hon. Henry Howard, m. a. Sutton 
 
 Hon. C. Howard, Castle-Howard 
 
 Hon. John Stuart Wortley, 4 
 
 Hon. James Stuart Wortley, ^ 
 
 Sir Francis Lindley Wood, bart., Hickleton 4 
 
 W. E. V. Harcourt, m. a 
 
 Edward Baines, m. p., Leeds - 
 
 J. S. Buckingham, m. p., London - 
 
 John Gully, m. p., Ackworth-Park 
 
 Henry Galley Knight, m. p 
 
 T. B. Macaulay, m. p., London 
 
 Joseph Pease, m. p., Darlington 2 
 
 P. B. Thompson, m. p., Escrick-Park 4
 
 186 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 BARNSLEY. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Alletson, George 
 
 Armitage, John 2 
 
 Armitage, J. W 
 
 Ayre, Thomas 2 
 
 Bailey, John Silkstone 
 
 Bailey, Thomas Cawthorne 
 
 Battison, Margaret 
 
 Battison, Maria 
 
 Batty, Frank 
 
 Bayldon, George 
 
 Bayldon, George jun 
 
 Bayldon, Joseph Carlton 
 
 Beevers, Henry 2 
 
 Bingley, John 
 
 Birks, John Hemingfield 4 
 
 Birks, Richard Ardsley 
 
 Briggs, Henry Brampton 
 
 Brown, George Penistone 
 
 Brown, William 
 
 Carr, William Wath 2 
 
 Carter, John 
 
 Carter, T. M 
 
 Challenger, Mary Hiendley 
 
 C'larkson, Ann do 
 
 Clarke, Charles 
 
 Clark, J. R. Carlton 
 
 Cochrane, James Worsbro' 
 
 Cockroft,   Hiendley 
 
 Cooper, Charles Wentworth 
 
 Cooper, Samuel 6 
 
 Cooper, William Mount- Vernon . 4 
 
 Cope, John 
 
 Cordeux, John 6 
 
 Cordeux, Thomas 6 
 
 Craik, Robert 6 
 
 Craven, William 
 
 Crookes, Richard 
 
 Dale, Thomas 2 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Dandison, William 2 
 
 Day, Richard Monk-Bretton 2 
 
 Dransfield, John Penistone 
 
 Dowe, W. A 2 
 
 Farrer, Timothy Fdby 
 
 Farrer, William, M. D 
 
 Faulds, Andrew Worsbro' (i 
 
 Firth, Thomas Barugh 2 
 
 Fletcher, John 4 
 
 Foster, Oswald 4 
 
 Frudd, Thomas 
 
 Gaunt, William 
 
 Goody, George Cudivorth 
 
 Goody, Robert Hiendley 
 
 Green, George Worsbro' 
 
 Guest, Henry 
 
 Guest, Thomas 
 
 Hall, John 
 
 Harrison, John Wooley 
 
 Harvey, William 2 
 
 Hawksworth, John Monk-Bretton 
 Hawthorne, J. Milton-Furnace . . 
 
 Hawksworth, Sarah 3 
 
 Haxworth, Robert 
 
 Haxworth, William 
 
 Helliley, George BrierUy 
 
 Helliley, Sarah Hiendley 
 
 Hepworth, William 2 
 
 Heaton, Eliza Fellkirk 
 
 Humble, 
 
 Hold, Job 
 
 Horsfall, John 
 
 Hoyland, Robert Brierley 
 
 Jackson, George 
 
 Johnson, William 2 
 
 Johnson, William 
 
 Johnson, Samuel Wath 
 
 Lancaster, Edward 2 
 
 Langley, Larret, F. L. S. Bramp- 
 ton Academy 6
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 187 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Liddall, Richard 2 
 
 Uddall, Thomas 
 
 Leadman, Eliza 
 
 Lindley, Christopher 
 
 Machen, New Hall 
 
 Mackissock, John 
 
 Maitland, 2 
 
 Mark, Matthew (Minister of St. 
 
 George's) 
 
 Mason, B 
 
 Mason, W. T 2 
 
 Matthewman, John 
 
 Maude, Francis Hoyland 
 
 Maw, Phoebe 
 
 Mawer, Joseph 4 
 
 Mence, W. C 
 
 Micklethwaite, John Fellkirk . . 2 
 
 Micklethwaite, John Ardsley 4 
 
 Moorhouse, William Thurlstone . 
 
 Moulson, Joseph Hiendley 
 
 Naylor, Joseph 2 
 
 Newman, Edward 4 
 
 Newman, William Darley-Hall . . 4 
 
 Norris, John 2 
 
 Morris, Maria 
 
 Ostliffe, John 
 
 Pepper, John 
 
 Pickard, Samuel Norton 
 
 Porter, James Park-House 6 
 
 Porter, Joseph do. 4 
 
 Porter, James 
 
 Ray wood, Richard 
 
 Richardson, Henry 2 
 
 Rhodes, George 
 
 Rigg, John 
 
 Rogers, Charles 
 
 Rollin, John 
 
 Rowley, John 
 
 Rycroft, Thomas 
 
 Sadler, M. T 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Saile, Robert 
 
 Saville, Richard 
 
 Senior, George 
 
 Sim, O. C, A.M. Brampton 
 
 Smith, George 2 
 
 Smith, Isaac Thurlstone 
 
 Taylor, Thomas 2 
 
 Taylor, John 
 
 Taylor, James 
 
 Tee, Charles 4 
 
 Thorp, R 5 
 
 Thorp, S 2 
 
 Topham, Edward 
 
 Twibell, John 2 
 
 Walker, Mark 
 
 Wall, John 
 
 Whitworth, John 
 
 Watson, Jane Hiendley 
 
 Watson, William Monk-Bretton . 
 
 Wilkinson, W. J 2 
 
 Willan, Robert (Minister of St. 
 
 Mary's) 
 
 Wilson, T. W 4 
 
 Wilson, S., Brampton 
 
 Wood, Joseph 4 
 
 Wood, Samuel 
 
 Wright, John 
 
 Wright, T. Wath 3 
 
 BIRMINGHAM. 
 
 Steen, Samuel 
 
 BLACKBURN. 
 
 Alderson, Harrison 
 
 Alderson, Elizabeth 
 
 Atkin, Peter 
 
 Clemesha, Robert 
 
 Clemesha, John
 
 188 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Haughton, John 
 
 Hurtley, William 
 
 Porter, Jackson (Minister} 
 
 Singleton, Josiah 
 
 Swithenbank, Thomas 2 
 
 Thwaite, John 
 
 Thwaite, Elizabeth 
 
 BOLTON. 
 
 Abbatt, Jane 
 
 Binks, George 
 
 Mulliner, Thomas 
 
 Mulliner, Mary 
 
 BRADFORD. 
 
 Armistead, John 
 
 Harris, Alfred 
 
 Horsfall, Michael 
 
 Hustler, John Undercliffe 3 
 
 Laycock, 
 
 Leach, Robert 
 
 Lister, Margaret 
 
 Mann, Joshua 2 
 
 Mann, Thomas 
 
 Mann, John 
 
 Milthorp, 
 
 Outhwaite, Dr. 2 
 
 Pearson, Henry 
 
 Rawstome, Walker 
 
 Thornton, Johnson 
 
 BRIGHOUSE. 
 
 Bottomley, James 
 
 Broughton, John 
 
 Brown, Charles 
 
 Burgess, John 
 
 Dearnaly, Thomas 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Dearnaly, Sarah 
 
 Denham, E • 
 
 King, John 2 
 
 Lees, James 
 
 Lees, Joshua 
 
 CHELMSFORD. 
 
 Knight, William Halstead 
 
 Marriage, James 
 
 Marriage, Caroline 
 
 Marriage, Lucy 
 
 COVENTRY. 
 
 Browitt, Alfred 
 
 DARLINGTON. 
 
 Allison, Henry 
 
 Atkinson, Jane 
 
 Backhouse, James 2 
 
 Backhouse, John 
 
 Backhouse, Jonathan 
 
 Backhouse, Ann 
 
 Benson, Sowerby 
 
 Blyth, Thomas 
 
 Brantingham, W. G 
 
 Britton, John 
 
 Byers, 
 
 Carter, R 
 
 Clyde, William 
 
 Coates, John 
 
 Cockin, T. A 
 
 Cook, W. Scott 
 
 Cudworth, Mary 
 
 Dewar, William 
 
 Dixon, R 
 
 Farmer, J 
 
 Forster, M
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 189 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Hird, Christopher 
 
 Hird, Matthew 
 
 Hunton, Thomas 
 
 Ianson, John 
 
 Ianson, Sarah 
 
 Jackson, Joanna 
 
 James, J. W 
 
 Kipling, F 
 
 Kitching, William 2 
 
 Lawson, Joseph 
 
 Lee, Surtees 
 
 Middleton, Michael 
 
 Mowbray, J. H 
 
 Ogilvie, 
 
 Parker, Edward jun 
 
 Parker, Robert 
 
 Parker, Charles 2 
 
 Pease, Joseph 2 
 
 Pease, J. B 
 
 Pease, Henry 2 
 
 Pigott, John 2 
 
 Pleus, Nathaniel 
 
 Pratman, W. L 
 
 Ridsdale, 
 
 Robinson, George 
 
 Robson, Dearman 
 
 Robson, Thomas 
 
 Robson, William 
 
 Rutherford, 
 
 Schorey, W. H 
 
 Sharp, Isaac 
 
 Sheriton, William 
 
 Smith, Elias 
 
 Smith, Ralph 
 
 Sparks, J. M 
 
 Tate, John 
 
 Taylor, Mary 
 
 Thompson, John 
 
 Tobin, 
 
 Toulmin, E. P. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Toulmin, Joseph 
 
 Wetherell, Christopher 
 
 Whitlock, Alfred 
 
 Windale, Michael 
 
 Wilson, George 
 
 Wilson, J 
 
 Wood, William 
 
 DEWSBURV. 
 
 Brady, Edward 
 
 Brady, William 2 
 
 Fletcher, Robert 
 
 DONCASTER. 
 
 Clark, Joseph 
 
 Dent, William Man- 
 
 Mason, C. G 
 
 Routh, Samuel Etthorpe 2 
 
 Wragg, Jonathan 
 
 DORNINGTON, Leicester- 
 shire. 
 
 Campbell, John 
 
 GAINSBRO'. 
 
 Maw, Frederick 
 
 Maw, Sarah 
 
 Maw, Louisa 
 
 Palian, Alfred 
 
 Palian, Mary 
 
 Wood, Olivia 
 
 HALIFAX. 
 
 Brook, R 
 
 Dearden, Thomas 
 
 Pool, John 
 
 Wilson,
 
 190 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 HARROGATE. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Blisard, Knaresbro' 2 
 
 Dearlove, 2 
 
 Faviell, — 
 
 Gascoigne. John 
 
 Read, 
 
 Spence, Francis Birstwith 
 
 Shutt, 2 
 
 Thackray, 2 
 
 HUDDERSFIELD. 
 
 Firth, Thomas 
 
 Firth, John High Flatts 
 
 Bottomley, Abraham Sheplep 
 
 Hardy, J. do 
 
 HULL. 
 
 Armstrong, Thomas 
 
 Bainbridge, Thomas 
 
 Casson, Isabel 
 
 Casson, Benjamin 
 
 Casson, Henry 
 
 Evans, 
 
 Franklin, Robert Fcrriby-sluice . 
 
 Hipsley, John 
 
 Hipsley, William 
 
 Holmes, 
 
 Homer, Jane 
 
 Jackson, George 
 
 Kitching, Hannah 
 
 Lister, Joseph 
 
 Morton, R. T 
 
 Petchell, John 
 
 Petchell, Thomas 
 
 Porter, George 
 
 Priestman, Thomas 
 
 Purdon, James 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Purdon and Brown 2 
 
 Rayner, Benjamin 2 
 
 Sanderson, John 
 
 Sanderson, Joseph 
 
 Summers, Joseph 
 
 Summers Joseph jun 
 
 Summers, Patience 
 
 Thorp, David 
 
 Timperley, Dudley 
 
 West, Leonard 
 
 Woolley, William 
 
 KENDAL 
 
 Crewdson, W. D 
 
 Thompson, John 
 
 LANCASTER. 
 
 Hadwen, Joshua 
 
 Hodgson, Thomas 
 
 Overend, John Bentham 
 
 Rossal, Richard 
 
 Roughedge, Hornby Bentham . . 
 Waithman, William Yealand .... 
 
 LEEDS. 
 
 Adams, John 
 
 Aldam, William 
 
 Aldam, William jun 
 
 Anderson, James 
 
 Andrew, James 
 
 Appleyard, J 
 
 Armistead, Joseph 
 
 Armistead, William 
 
 Arthington, Maria 
 
 Atkinson, John 
 
 Atkinson, J. R, 
 
 Atkinson, John Whitkirk
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 191 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Atkinson, Benjamin do 
 
 Atkinson, William do 
 
 Atkinson, John Haltoti 
 
 Balme, J. N 
 
 Bateson, James Worthy 
 
 Bean, Robert 2 
 
 Bell, 
 
 * Bellamy, William 
 
 Beverley, William 4 
 
 Birkhead, John 2 
 
 Blagborne, M 
 
 Broadhead, Henry 
 
 Broadhead, David 
 
 Broadhead, John 
 
 Broody, William 
 
 Brook, James 
 
 Brown, John 
 
 Brown, J 
 
 Broster, Ann 
 
 Broster, Hannah 
 
 Broster, Ruth 
 
 Cash, Newman 3 
 
 Chadwick, James 
 
 Chamberlain, John 
 
 Chaniock, 
 
 Clapham, John Peele 
 
 Cockerham, Edward 
 
 Crossland, William 
 
 Crossley, William 
 
 Crowther, Thomas 
 
 Cudworth, John 2 
 
 Dodgson, John 
 
 Dyson, William 
 
 Fairbank, Edward 
 
 Farrar, William 2 
 
 Fenton, James 
 
 Firth, George 
 
 Fleck, J 
 
 Gascoigne, George 
 
 Gascoigne, William 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Gill, John 
 
 Gill, John 
 
 Grayson, Robert 2 
 
 Hargreaves, James Kirkstall .... 
 
 Hewdy, William 
 
 Hick, Richard 
 
 Hirst, Thomas 
 
 Hogg, James 
 
 Holroyd, Benjamin 
 
 Hotham, James 
 
 Hubbard, J 
 
 Ives, John 
 
 Jowitt, Robert 
 
 Kay, Thomas 
 
 Keshan, John 
 
 Lawer, William 
 
 Lawson, Charles 
 
 Lee, Charles 
 
 Lee, William 
 
 Locke, Charles Rothivell-Haigh . . 
 
 Lumb, Thomas 
 
 M'Taggart, William 
 
 Mann, Henry GomersaU 
 
 Mellanby, Joseph 
 
 Millner, Thomas 
 
 Mitchell, Thomas 
 
 Mirfin, Richard 
 
 Morley, George 
 
 Xewbold, John 
 
 Nussey, George 
 
 Parkinson, Abram 
 
 Pawson, J 
 
 Peace, Samuel 
 
 Peacock, Mary 
 
 Pounder, Samuel 
 
 Procter, T 
 
 Raper, Benjamin 
 
 Read, Edward 
 
 Roberts, J 
 
 Robinson, Thomas 6
 
 192 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Robinson, William 
 
 Rose, Charles 
 
 Scarborough, Charles 
 
 Sigston, W. H 
 
 Slater, Christopher 
 
 Smith, Benjamin 
 
 Smith, John 
 
 Smith, John Mm-tim 
 
 Smith, Henry 
 
 Stears, Samuel 
 
 Stott, James 
 
 Sykes, Samuel 
 
 Tatham, Thomas 
 
 Tatham, Edward 
 
 Tempest, • 
 
 Thome, Charles 
 
 Thome, James 
 
 Thome, Henry 
 
 Titley, Anthony 
 
 Topham, Samuel 
 
 Tumbull, Thomas 
 
 Turner, Edward 
 
 Turner, G 
 
 Tute, Thomas 
 
 Walker, Thomas 
 
 Walker, Benjamin 
 
 Walker, A. M 
 
 Walker, Eliza 
 
 Walker, Sarah 
 
 Walker, W. S 
 
 Ward, William 
 
 Waterfall, Henry 
 
 Watson, W. T 2 
 
 Wheelwright, William 
 
 Wilkinson, J 
 
 Wilson, James 
 
 Wilson, Richard 
 
 Wilson, Benjamin 
 
 Wilson, Edward jun. A.M., F.L.S. 
 Chapel-Allerton 2 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Wise, George 
 
 Wiseman, George 
 
 Wood, Charles 
 
 Wright, Peter 
 
 LIVERPOOL. 
 
 Abraham, John 
 
 Alletson, Thomas W 
 
 Amott, William Francis 
 
 Atkinson, Thomas 
 
 Bailey, Mary Ann 
 
 Bally, William 
 
 Banks, Abraham 
 
 Barber, William 
 
 Bamsley, Godfrey 
 
 Barrow, Joseph 
 
 Barry, William 
 
 Benson, Margaret 
 
 Bentham, Christopher 
 
 Bigland, Amos 
 
 Binns, Thomas 
 
 Binns, Thomas jun 
 
 Binns, Margaret 
 
 Blackburn, J. B 
 
 Blake, John 2 
 
 Blake, R. W 
 
 Bold, Thomas 
 
 Booth, Maria 
 
 Bouch, Thomas 
 
 Bourne, Timothy 
 
 Boyer, 
 
 Campbell, John 
 
 Campbell, Daniel 
 
 Campbell, John 
 
 Chorley, Phoebe 
 
 Clare, William 
 
 Clarke, John 
 
 Comer, George 
 
 Cooke, John 
 
 Cooke, Mary
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 193 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Cooke, George 
 
 Cooke, Isaac 
 
 Cooke, Isaac B 
 
 Cooke, Robert 
 
 Cooke, Adlington 2 
 
 Carson, William 
 
 Coventry, Joseph 
 
 Cox, Edward 
 
 Crosfield, Simon 
 
 Crossfield, George Castle-Street . . 
 
 Crossley, L. T. Wavertree 
 
 Crossley , A. M. do 
 
 Davies, J. H 
 
 Dickinson, William 2 
 
 Dobbin, John 
 
 Dobson, John 4 
 
 Doming, John 
 
 Drinkwater, John 
 
 Ecroyd, Joshua 
 
 Edward, J. D 
 
 Evens, Benjamin '1 
 
 Farrar, William 
 
 Farrar, Richard 
 
 Field, John 
 
 Fielder, J. W 
 
 Fitz-Hugh, William S 
 
 Francis, Edward 
 
 Frankland, Thomas 
 
 Frankland, William 
 
 Frankland, Elizabeth 
 
 Freme, William P 
 
 Garratt, Thomas 
 
 Gerard, H. C 
 
 Gillon, James 
 
 Gregg, Hannah 
 
 Gregg, George 
 
 Greenwood, Benjamin 
 
 Gresham, T 
 
 Hadwen, John 
 
 Hancock, Thomas, M.D 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Harrison, James 
 
 Herd, John 
 
 Hewitt, Mary 
 
 Hill, Robert 
 
 Hill, Samuel 
 
 Hinck, T 
 
 Hodgkinson, J. H 
 
 Hodgson, Thomas 3 
 
 Holmes, Henry 
 
 Hopkinson, Hugh 
 
 Hopkinson, H 
 
 Hopkinson, Joseph 
 
 Horsfall, Charles 
 
 Horsfall, Robert 
 
 Houghton, Richard 
 
 Humble, Edward 
 
 Humphreys, William 
 
 Hutchinson, John 
 
 Hyde, Thomas 
 
 Hyde, R. E 
 
 Jackson, John 
 
 Johnson, Thomas 
 
 Johnson, Joseph 
 
 Jones, Christopher 
 
 Jones, 
 
 Knott, Nehemiah 
 
 Lamb, Benjamin 
 
 Laycock, Richard 
 
 Leicester, Mark 
 
 Leicester, Joseph 
 
 Leicester, Peter 
 
 Leicester, Thomas 
 
 Leigh, James 
 
 Leyland, John 
 
 Lockett, R 
 
 Lock wood, George 
 
 M'Ginniss, John 
 
 Makin, Thomas 
 
 Malcolmson, Joseph 
 
 Marsh, Thomas 
 
 K
 
 194 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Marsh, Robert 
 
 Martindale, Henry 
 
 Mather, Thomas 
 
 Minshull, Samuel 
 
 Molyneux, Edward 
 
 Molyneux, Anthony 
 
 Morris, Esther 
 
 Murphy, James 
 
 Musgrove, Thomas 
 
 Naish, Francis 
 
 Nevett, William 
 
 Nevill, Joseph 
 
 Nevill, James 
 
 Nicholson, Joseph 2 
 
 Nottingham, Robert 
 
 Oddie, William 
 
 Ovens, Richard o 
 
 Overend, James 
 
 Parton, Joseph 
 
 Peers, William 
 
 Pooley, Frederick 
 
 Powell, James 
 
 Pritchard, William 
 
 Priestman, John 
 
 Raffles, Thomas, D.D 
 
 Rathbone, William 
 
 Rathbone, Richard 
 
 Roberts, W.J 
 
 Roberts, Elizabeth 
 
 Robertson, George 
 
 Robinson, Thomas 
 
 Robson, Henry 
 
 Robson, Thomas 
 
 Robson, T 
 
 Robson, H. E 
 
 Rogers, T 
 
 Roscoe, Edward 
 
 Rose, Robert 
 
 Ross, William 
 
 Ross, W. A 
 
 Copies- 
 
 Rushton, William 
 
 Ryley, James 
 
 Sargent, Constantius 
 
 Sedilon, Thomas 
 
 Seddon, James 
 
 Sharp, George 
 
 Shand, John 
 
 Simmons, A 
 
 Simpson, Mary 
 
 Smith, Benjamin 
 
 Sowerby, 
 
 Spooner, Thomas 
 
 Staley, 
 
 Stansfiekl, Simon 
 
 Stevens, John 
 
 Stevens, Joseph 
 
 Stevens, 
 
 Storrs, Edward 
 
 Strangman, Samuel 
 
 Taylor, John 
 
 Thompson, George 
 
 Thompson, Thomas 
 
 Thompson, Frances 
 
 Thompson, Edward 
 
 Thompson, John 
 
 Tipping, John 
 
 Tobias, M. J 
 
 Townson, Benjamin 
 
 Trougher, John 
 
 Turner, William 
 
 Usher, Sheldon 
 
 Waddington, C.J 
 
 Waterhouse, Alfred 
 
 Waterhouse, Octavius 
 
 Waterhouse, Rogers 
 
 Waterhouse, Daniel 
 
 Watson, James 
 
 Weaver, D. A 
 
 Whitten, Joseph 
 
 Wild, J.C ,...
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 195 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Wilde, Ellis 
 
 Wilson, Sarah 
 
 Wilson, Edward jun 
 
 Wilson, William 
 
 Windsor, James 
 
 Wood, Benjamin 
 
 Wood, Mary 
 
 Wood, William 
 
 Woodville, Isaac 
 
 Worsdell, Thomas 
 
 Worthington, 
 
 Worthington, 
 
 Wrigley, Joseph 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 Abdy, Southwark 
 
 Booth, Felix 
 
 Booth, William 
 
 Charlton, Edward 6 
 
 Greenwood, T., A. M. Islington. . 
 
 Greenwood, do 
 
 Hawes, Thomas 
 
 Hooper, Maria D. Amweti 
 
 King, Islington 
 
 Hitching, John Stamford-Hill 2 
 
 Lamprey, John March-Wood 
 
 Marsh, Joseph 
 
 Moore, Henry 
 
 Marsh, Robert Kitchen 
 
 Morris, Thomas 
 
 Poole, M 
 
 Speight, Samuel 
 
 Squire, J. H. Amwell 
 
 Whittlestone, 
 
 Winstone 
 
 MALTON. 
 
 Allen, William 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Henderson, J. Castle-Hoivard 
 
 Hopkins, John 
 
 Newton, John How-Bridge 
 
 Priestman, Joseph 4 
 
 Priestman, David 
 
 Pickering, Robert 
 
 Taylor, Joseph 
 
 Tuke, Robert Foston 
 
 MANCHESTER. 
 
 Ansell, W. G 
 
 Bamford, W. H 
 
 Bancroft, David 
 
 Beethom, John 
 
 Binyon, Alfred 
 
 Binyon, Deborah 
 
 Binyon, Benjamin 
 
 Binyon, Thomas 
 
 Binyon, Edward 
 
 Bleckly, Henry 
 
 Bleckly, Maria 
 
 Boulton, William 
 
 Bradshaw, Roger 
 
 Brown, William 
 
 Butterworth, John 
 
 Butterworth, William 
 
 Collinson, Thomas 
 
 Compton, Joseph 
 
 Constable, J. M 
 
 Crewdson, Isaac 
 
 Crewdson, Wilson 
 
 Cumber, Charles 
 
 Danson, George 
 
 Dearman, Hewitson 
 
 Dickinson, Benjamin 
 
 Dockray, D 
 
 Eveleigh, Samuel 2 
 
 Eveleigh, Joseph 2 
 
 Firstbrook, William
 
 196 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Green, John 
 
 Harrison, John 
 
 Hall, Edward 
 
 Hall, William 
 
 Haworth, John 
 
 Haworth, William 
 
 Hepworth, Joshua 
 
 Heywood, George 
 
 Isherwood, Samuel 2 
 
 Jesse, John 
 
 Johnson, William 
 
 Labrey, Thomas 
 
 Labrey, William 
 
 Labrey, Jonathan 
 
 Lunt, Robert 
 
 Lyon, Joseph 
 
 Mather, Colin 4 
 
 Mather, Colin jun 
 
 Mather, William 
 
 Merrick, Josiah 
 
 Morris, Alexander 
 
 Musgrove, William 
 
 Nash, Ishmael 
 
 Neeve, Shepley 2 
 
 Noakes, William B 
 
 Noblet, John 
 
 Pearson, B 
 
 Phillips, Joseph 
 
 Raleigh, Joseph 2 
 
 Reyner, John 2 
 
 Rooke, John 
 
 Robinson, George 2 
 
 Satterthwaite, S 
 
 Satterthwaite, Michael 
 
 Sheldon, Stephen 
 
 Stephenson, Isaac 
 
 Storrs, Elizabeth 
 
 Slack, William 
 
 Swithenbank, John 
 
 Thistlethwaite, John 
 
 Copies- 
 Thorp, Samuel 
 
 Walker, Thomas 
 
 Warburton, Hugh 
 
 Walley, E 
 
 Walton, John 
 
 Webster, John 
 
 Williams, T. H 
 
 Wilson, Richard 
 
 White, William 
 
 Whitlow, John 
 
 Worthington, John 
 
 Woodhead, Godfrey 2 
 
 NEWCASTLE. 
 
 Alder, Joshua 
 
 Anderson, Bradshaw 
 
 Anderson, Jasper 
 
 Atkinson, Anthony 
 
 Backhouse, William 
 
 Beaumont, William 2 
 
 Beaumont, Sarah : 
 
 Bell, Thomas 
 
 Blackwell, J 
 
 Boyd, William 
 
 Bowness, John 
 
 Brady, Henry 2 
 
 Bragg, Charles 
 
 Brockett, J. T 
 
 Brown, John 
 
 Brumell, Ann 
 
 Brumell, G. A 
 
 Carr, John 
 
 Chapman, William 
 
 Chapman, J. M 
 
 Clapham, Anthony 2 
 
 Coulson, John 
 
 Doeg, W 
 
 Doubleday, Thomas 
 
 Dunn, W. A
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 197 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Fallows, Musgrave 
 
 Fenwick, John 
 
 Ferguson, Thomas 
 
 Finlay, James 
 
 Foster, Sarah 2 
 
 Freeman, George 
 
 Gilpin, James 
 
 Graham, Thomas 
 
 Hamilton, James 
 
 Hardman, J 
 
 Hawthorn, Robert 
 
 Hedley, Samuel i 
 
 Hedley, Joseph 
 
 Metherington, J 
 
 Hewitson, M. A 
 
 Holmes, William 
 
 Hotham, M. A 
 
 Hotham, W. S. 
 
 Hoyle, Richard 
 
 Ianson, Charles 
 
 Jopling, Joseph 
 
 Knott, Dr. 
 
 Lishman, W. 11 
 
 Lockwood, George 
 
 Mackintosh, A 
 
 Mauld, C 
 
 Milbum, Robert 
 
 Oliver, Robert 
 
 Oliver, Daniel 
 
 Orange, John 
 
 Ormston, John 
 
 Ormston, Robert 
 
 Priestman, Jonathan 
 
 Parker, Anthony 
 
 Rhodes, Charles 
 
 Richardson, Edward 
 
 Richardson, Ellen 
 
 Richardson, Henry 
 
 Richardson, Jonathan 
 
 Richardson, Rebecca 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Richardson, Thomas 
 
 Robinson, Elihu 
 
 Robinson, William 
 
 Rooke, M. A 
 
 Roxby, Robert 
 
 Rutherford, William 
 
 Seekings, J. R 
 
 Smith, Anthony Harris 2 
 
 Sowerby, George 
 
 Spark, Joseph 
 
 Stickney, Esther 
 
 Sutton, Mary 
 
 Sutton, William 
 
 Tessimond, William 
 
 Thompson, Frances 
 
 Wadley, Thomas 
 
 Watson, Joseph 2 
 
 Watson, William 
 
 Watson, Joshua 
 
 Watson, Thomas 
 
 Watson, John 
 
 Wilson, W. W 2 
 
 Wilson, James 
 
 Wilson, Thomas 
 
 Wilson, Robert 
 
 NORTH SHIELDS. 
 
 Bartleman, Alexander 
 
 Baynes, George 
 
 Brown, William 
 
 Bramwell, William 
 
 Buhner, Joseph 
 
 Chapman, Thomas 
 
 Clark, John 
 
 Crighton, Alexander 
 
 Dale, Henry 
 
 Fawcas, George 
 
 Fenwick, John 
 
 Hargrave, Joseph
 
 198 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Hearn, John 
 
 Ingham, Thomas . 
 
 Leitch, William 
 
 Medcalf, Richard 
 
 Procter, J. R 
 
 Rennison, John 
 
 Richardson, Elizabeth 
 
 Richardson, William 
 
 Richardson, J. H 
 
 Richardson, W. 
 
 Robson, M 
 
 Simpson, R 
 
 Smith, Isabella 
 
 Spence, Robert 2 
 
 Stowell, W. H 
 
 Thompson, Charles 
 
 Tintry, John 
 
 Unthank, Mary 
 
 Unthank, George 
 
 Watson, George 
 
 Watson, Joseph 
 
 Watson, Michael 
 
 Williamson, James 
 
 OLDHAM. 
 
 Ainsworth, Jesse 
 
 Braddock, William 
 
 Broome, Richard 
 
 Cowper, E. G 
 
 o 
 Earnshaw, John 
 
 Earnshaw, George 
 
 Elliot, James Lees 
 
 Hall, Samuel 
 
 Hargreaves, J 
 
 O'Neil, William Sharp 
 
 Schofield, John Upper Mill 
 
 Travis, John 
 
 Whitaker, J 
 
 Wild, Elizabeth 2 
 
 Copies, 
 
 Wilson, William 
 
 PONTEFRACT. 
 
 Adams, Richard Ackworth Lodge 
 
 Armitage, J 
 
 Bottomley, George Ackworth .... 
 
 Bracker, J. C 
 
 Bradshaw, J. E 
 
 Brice, J 
 
 Brown, Thomas Ackworth 
 
 Brown, 
 
 Brown, Daniel 
 
 Chambers, Richard 
 
 Clayton, John Kippax 
 
 Coleman, J. H 
 
 Dawson, Matthew 
 
 Dibb, John 
 
 Doeg, Robert Ackivorth 
 
 Dunhill, Thomas 
 
 Elcock, Charles 
 
 Ellerton, Dr. Kippax 
 
 Ellerton, Aherford 
 
 Ellerton, John Aherford 3- 
 
 Foster, John 
 
 Green, George 
 
 Harrison, John 
 
 Hartley, John 
 
 Hepworth, William 
 
 Horner, William 
 
 Howard, Luke, F.R.S. Ackworth 
 
 Villa 
 
 Jackson, J. J 
 
 Jefferson, Edward 
 
 Knight, Samuel 2 
 
 Leatham, Flintoff 
 
 Long, Edward 
 
 Mitton, M 
 
 Morley, John Ackworth 
 
 Morville, Wragby
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 199 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Moxon, William 
 
 Muscroft, Dr 
 
 Muscroft, Eliza 
 
 Oxley, Robert, M. D 
 
 Parkinson, 
 
 Priestman, B 
 
 Perfect, John 
 
 Phillips, J 
 
 Purslove, William 
 
 Ramsden, Thomas 
 
 Rhodes, Edward 
 
 Robinson, L. A. Carlton 2 
 
 Routledge, 
 
 Schofield, John 
 
 Smith, Robert 
 
 Shepherd, Charles 
 
 Stephens, Charles 
 
 Taylor, Thomas Lee 
 
 Thornhill, Ann Ackworth 
 
 Thwaite, Samuel 
 
 Vant, F 
 
 Vause, John 
 
 Walker, J 
 
 Walton, T 
 
 Wigham, Davison 
 
 PRESTON. 
 
 Alderson, William 
 
 Anderton, Henry 
 
 Barrow, Thomas Elswick Loi 
 
 Copeland, Thomas 
 
 Dawson, Thomas 
 
 Fearon, Isaac 
 
 Harrison, James 
 
 Smith, John Harrison 
 
 Houlding, William 2 
 
 Holmes, Charles 
 
 RIPON. 
 
 • Copies. 
 
 Anderson, John 
 
 Cartman, John 
 
 Chamock, J 
 
 Fairburn, John 
 
 Fisher, Thomas 
 
 Milner, John Richmond 
 
 Maffam, 
 
 Robinson, John 
 
 Shields, John 
 
 Stevenson, 
 
 Terry, J. B 
 
 Thackwray, William 
 
 Theakston, Michael 2 
 
 Theakston, John 
 
 Walbrun, John 
 
 Willey, 
 
 Williamson, John 
 
 ROCHDALE. 
 
 Bright, Jacob 
 
 Bright, John 
 
 Ecroyd, James 
 
 Fothergill, Alexander 
 
 Haworth, Mary Crawshaic- Booth 
 
 Haworth, Susanna do 
 
 Haworth, George 
 
 Hodgkinson, James 
 
 Midgley, James 
 
 Moore, Abraham 
 
 King, James 2 
 
 SCARBOROUGH. 
 
 Baker, J. B 
 
 Foster, Richard 
 
 Foster, Henry 
 
 Mennel, George 
 
 Oxley, Dr. BridlingUm 2
 
 200 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Rowntree, John 
 
 Rowntree, William 
 
 Rowntree, William jun 
 
 Stickney, Isaac 
 
 Stickney, Sarah 
 
 Theakston, Solomon 
 
 Thornton, W. D 
 
 Tindall, John 2 
 
 Tindall, Bobert 2 
 
 Tindall, Jane 2 
 
 SELBY. 
 
 Adams, Robert 
 
 Adams, Robert 
 
 Adams, Richard 
 
 Battle, William 
 
 Bennett, William 
 
 Best, G. (Minister) 
 
 Betty, Eliza 2 
 
 Burkitt, J 2 
 
 Burt, Jonathan 
 
 Butler, J 
 
 Chapman, George 
 
 Ellison, T 
 
 England, M 
 
 Foster, John 
 
 Fothergill, John 
 
 Gibson, Joseph 
 
 Graham, Alexander 2 
 
 Hawdon, Thomas 
 
 Hutchinson, Jonathan 2 
 
 Jackson, Thomas 
 
 Jackson, William 
 
 Lee, Beilby 3 
 
 Lee, John 
 
 Leethem, Thomas 
 
 Leethem, William 
 
 Linton, Thomas 
 
 Lowther, George 
 
 M'Greggor, D 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Marsden, James 
 
 Marshall, Thomas 2 
 
 Massey, William 
 
 Morrell, Robert 
 
 Newstead, 
 
 O'Neil, Edward B 
 
 Parker, E 
 
 Pitt, Henry 
 
 Pearson, Matthew 
 
 Procter, Thomas 
 
 Procter, William 
 
 Procter, Jane 
 
 Richardson, Joseph 
 
 Richardson, J 
 
 Richardson, William 
 
 Robertson, William 
 
 Selby Library, 
 
 Seward, Robert 
 
 Smith, William 
 
 Sharrock, P. 
 
 Spivey, William 
 
 Sutherby, William 
 
 Twist, Joseph 
 
 Twist, John 
 
 Waud, Edward Camblesfiird 6 
 
 Wood, G. W 
 
 Wade, Thomas 
 
 SHEFFIELD. 
 
 Broadhead, Alfred 
 
 Brown, William 
 
 Burton, John 
 
 Chapman, William . . . 
 
 Davy, Josiah 
 
 Davy, Charles 
 
 Dickinson, Henry 
 
 Holland, G. C 
 
 Hargreaves, William 
 
 Hodgson, John
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 201 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Hudson, Robert 
 
 Jervis, George 
 
 Lupton, John Green-Hill 
 
 Marshall, Lucy 
 
 Marshall, Edward 
 
 Mason, Sarah 
 
 Marsh, William 
 
 Moss, John 
 
 Peech, Samuel 
 
 Parker, Frank 
 
 Parker, Thomas James 
 
 Richmond, Thomas 
 
 Smith, Edward 2 
 
 Smith, James 
 
 Smith, Sarah 
 
 Swift, William 2 
 
 Taylor, Rachel 
 
 Vale, M. H 
 
 Warburton, S 
 
 Wright, Deborah 
 
 SKIPTON. 
 
 Chapman, John 
 
 Smith, Joseph 
 
 Townsend, Abner 
 
 Worraall, William 2 
 
 STOCKPORT 
 
 Johnson, Mary 
 
 Medd, John 
 
 STOCKTON. 
 
 Atkinson, Mary 
 
 Bald, Robert 
 
 Bayley, William 
 
 Coates, George 
 
 Gibson, Joseph 
 
 Harris, Anthony 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Jennett, Thomas 
 
 Jackson, R 
 
 Lodge, C 
 
 Ord, Richard 
 
 Pulman, R 
 
 Smith, William 
 
 Smith, Ann 
 
 Skipsey, George 
 
 Sutton, G. Elton 
 
 AValker, R. jun 
 
 Walton, S. Norton 
 
 Weatherall, Joseph 
 
 SUNDERLAND. 
 
 Allison, J 
 
 Andrews, J 
 
 Armstrong, J. W 
 
 Atkinson, George 
 
 Backhouse, Edward 
 
 Backhouse, Edward jun 
 
 Baynes, William 
 
 Barker, W. J 
 
 Beecroft, John 
 
 Bell, William 
 
 Benson, Thomas 
 
 Bentham, John 
 
 Binns, Henry 
 
 Black, J. G 
 
 Blakston, J 
 
 Blaxland, Alexander 
 
 Booth, George 
 
 Bowron, John jun 
 
 Brabant, William 
 
 Brantingham, William 
 
 Brown, Dr. '. 
 
 Burlinson, W. D 
 
 Burlinson, J 
 
 Burn, Dr 
 
 Cameron, John 
 
 Carr, John C
 
 202 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Carr, William 2 
 
 Coates, Thomas 
 
 Cowan, James 
 
 Crosier, Thomas 
 
 Crosier, William 
 
 Crowe, John 
 
 Dale, P 
 
 Davison, Charles 
 
 Davison. R. A 
 
 Davison, Joseph 
 
 Dawson, Thomas 
 
 Dickinson, John 
 
 Dinning, G. T 
 
 Dixon, H. J 
 
 Douglas, John 
 
 Embleton, Thomas 
 
 Fenwick, Robert 
 
 Ferens, John 
 
 Ford, Edward 
 
 French, Robert 
 
 French, William 
 
 Gaily, William 
 
 Garbutt, Jonathan 
 
 Gibson, David 
 
 Gibson, Thomas 
 
 Grant, J. G 
 
 Grant, C. (Minister) 
 
 Gray, Francis 
 
 Gray, Robert, A. M 
 
 Gray, John 
 
 Green, George 
 
 Gregory, Robert 
 
 Grimshaw, John 
 
 Grimshaw, John jun 
 
 Grimshaw, William 
 
 Hall, James 
 
 Hartley, Jane 
 
 Harrison, George 
 
 Heuhan, John 
 
 Hills, John 
 
 Hills, James 
 
 Copies . 
 
 Hinde, Edward 
 
 Holmes, J. G 
 
 Holsgrove, David 
 
 Hunter, John 
 
 Husdell, Jacob 
 
 Hutchinson, James 
 
 Hutchinson, Thomas 
 
 Ianson, Elizabeth 
 
 Jones, W. B 
 
 Jonashon, David 
 
 Kay, J 
 
 Kirk, William jun 
 
 Kirkaldy, Alexander 
 
 Kidson, John 
 
 Lee, Joseph 
 
 Leighton, John 
 
 Liddell, Robert 
 
 Longridge, G. W 
 
 Longstaff, Thomas 
 
 M'Cree, William 
 
 Mitchinson, George 
 
 Moore, Thomas 
 
 Moore, William 
 
 Mounsey, Thomas 
 
 Mounsey, Mary 
 
 Mounsey, John 
 
 Muschamp, Edward 
 
 Muschamp, W 
 
 Newrick, J. 
 
 Nicholson, 
 
 Nixon, 
 
 Outhwaite, John 
 
 Panton, Hugh 
 
 Parker, George 
 
 Peacock, Reginald 
 
 Penman, H 
 
 Pickard, James 
 
 Porteous, Gilbert 
 
 Pringle, J. T 
 
 Ranson, John 
 
 Ranson, William
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 203 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Read, Michael 
 
 Richardson, Thomas 
 
 Richardson, William 2 
 
 Richardson, Caleb 
 
 Richardson, John 
 
 Richardson, Edward 
 
 Ritson, John 
 
 Robinson, E. M 
 
 Robson, Elizabeth 2 
 
 Robson, Thomas 
 
 Robson, Hannah 
 
 Satchell, William 
 
 Scott, Henry 
 
 Seal, John 
 
 Sharp, B 
 
 Shevell, William 
 
 Smith, R 
 
 Smith, Edward 
 
 Spence, Charles 
 
 Spoor, Richard 
 
 Spoor, Robert 
 
 Spoor, John 
 
 Spoor, Thomas 
 
 Stevenson, John 
 
 Stokoe, David 
 
 Storey, John 
 
 Swan, Oliver 
 
 Taylor, J 
 
 Thirkel, Thomas 
 
 Thompson, H 
 
 Tipson, William 
 
 Tones, William 
 
 Vasey, J 
 
 Vint, James 
 
 Walton, 
 
 Watson, Roger 
 
 Watson, R. M 
 
 Wardropper, Paul 
 
 White, Andrew 
 
 White, Richard 
 
 Wilkinson, James 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Wilson, Sarah 
 
 Wilson, George 
 
 Wilson, George 
 
 Wood, John 
 
 Young, William 
 
 WAKEFIELD. 
 
 Barras, 
 
 Benington, George 
 
 Benington, John 
 
 Benington, Maria 
 
 Benington, Isabel 
 
 Benington, William 
 
 Brown, Henry 
 
 Charlesworth, John Chapelthorp . 2 
 
 Charlesworth, John jun. do 2 
 
 Charlesworth, Joseph Lofthouse . 2 
 
 Exley, Charles 
 
 Field, John 3 
 
 Gaskell, Benjamin Thornes-House 4 
 
 Gawthorpe, S. M 
 
 Harrison, S 
 
 Hodgson, William Walton 
 
 Holdsworth, J 
 
 Janson, J 
 
 Lawton, Jonathan 
 
 Leatham, Margaret 3 
 
 Mackie, Robert 
 
 Marshall, Chapelthorp 2 
 
 Matthewman, John 
 
 Sanderson, Alfred 
 
 Spence, John 2 
 
 Stobbart, Chapelthorp 2 
 
 Watson, Sandal 
 
 Woodhead, Samuel 
 
 YORK. 
 
 Allis, Thomas 
 
 AUis, Anna S
 
 204 
 
 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Copies. 
 
 Anderson, J. J 2 
 
 Ackwith, Roger 
 
 Backhouse, Mary 2 
 
 Barber, James Pang-Hall 
 
 Benington, Thomas 2 
 
 Cave, William 3 
 
 Copsie, F. J 
 
 Fall, Henry 
 
 Ford, John 
 
 Fothergill, Eliza 
 
 Hey, Richard 
 
 Hills, Thomas 
 
 Hornor, Benjamin 
 
 Hipsley, Henry 
 
 Mair, Robert 
 
 Priestman, David 2 
 
 Rowntree, Joseph 
 
 Scarr, Christopher 
 
 Simpson, Dr 4 
 
 Smith, William 
 
 Spence, Joseph 
 
 Spence, Maria 
 
 Shepherd, Holman 
 
 Shepherd, 
 
 Tuke, Hannah 
 
 Williams, M 
 
 Wood, Richard 
 
 ADDITIONAL NAMES. 
 
 Albiston, Elizabeth Warrington 
 
 Allison, John Durham 
 
 Bakewell, Susanna Nottingham 
 Clark.. James Street, Somersetshire 
 EUis, Eliza Mansfield 
 
 Copies. 
 Hadfield, Samuel Mottram, Che- 
 shire 
 
 Hanson, John Staindrop 
 
 Howitt, Francis Heanor, Derby. . 
 
 Linsley, Joseph Leeds 
 
 Outhwaite, Matthew Leeds 6 
 
 Spriggs, M. Worcester 
 
 Vise, Charles Spalding 
 
 BINGLEY. 
 
 Anderton, William 
 
 Barret, John 
 
 Beanlands, Anne 
 
 Chapman, Thomas 
 
 Clapham, Thomas Morton 
 
 Dryden, George 
 
 Dunn, John 
 
 Ellis, Robert 
 
 England, William 
 
 Garrett, Betsey 
 
 Greenwood, Martha Morton 
 
 Hardy, James 
 
 Hodgson, Richard Arthington . . 
 
 Hulbert, Anne 
 
 Scott, Peter {Baptist Minister,) 
 
 Shipley 
 
 Scott, Jacob 
 
 Sharp, William 
 
 Sharp, John 
 
 Sharp, Edward 
 
 Sharp, Wilkinson 
 
 ThrelfaU, T. Morton 
 
 Whitley, John do 
 
 Whitley, Thomas 
 
 Wreaks, Eliza 
 
 Wright, Joseph Morton 
 
 A. P1CKARD, PRINTER, CROSS-COl'RT, TOP OF BRIGGATE, L3EDS.
 
 \pril 1st. 1834. 
 
 NEW AND INTERESTING PUBLICATIONS, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 J. Y. KNIGHT, LEEDS; 
 
 HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO., LONDON ; AND A. POSTER 
 KIRKBY-LONSDALE. 
 
 IN THE PRESS. 
 
 s,iE©m,T^'w wsilc mm jpws&nsj&nr. 
 i. 
 
 DOCTRINAL ERRORS OF THE APOSTOLICAL AND EARLY 
 FATHERS.— In One Vol. !ivo. 
 
 II. 
 -CRIPTURAL CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN MRS. SCOTT AND 
 HER LITTLE DAUGHTER MARY.— 18mo. 
 
 III. 
 SCATTERED LEAVES OF POESY.— 18mo. 
 
 : 
 
 IV. 
 Price 9a., Morocco Cloth Boards, 
 
 THE NATURALIST'S POETICAL COMPANION, with Notes. Bj 
 a Fellow of the Li.yxjean Society. 
 
 " The compiler has selected a vast number of exquisitely beautiful pas- 
 sages from the best English poets, to which he has frequently appended 
 illustrative Notes, which at once display the extent of his knowledge, and 
 are calculated to excite the best feelings of the reader. We do not hesitate 
 to designate this volume as one of the most attractive and delightful which 
 we have ever perused, and we earnestly recommend it to all our readers 
 who are either admirers of the scenes and beauties of nature, or are de- 
 sirous of rendering science subservient to the momentous purposes of piety 
 and virtue."— Leeds Times, Oct. I9tli, 1833. 
 
 " This is a poetical selection by a Fellow of the Linnaean Society, and an 
 excellent one it is, for the selector is imbued with the true spirit of poetry :
 
 he has added Notes, explanatory of various objects of Natural History. 
 He justly observes, that * by fixing the mind on living objects, in which 
 wisdom and goodness are strikingly exhibited, and by raising it through 
 them to the Creator, in whom centre all perfection and happiness, the study 
 of natural objects excites a continual train of ideas most friendly to what- 
 ever is pure, benevolent, and grateful. And, next to the devout exercises 
 of religion, perhaps nothing will more completely remove sadness and dis- 
 quietude, than the silent eloquence of flowers and the vocal song of birds." 
 —Leeds Intelligencer, Oct. 2&th, 1833. 
 
 " We welcome very heartily works in any degree answering the purpose 
 of that before us. The Naturalist's Poetical Companion is the fullest and 
 most interesting compilation we have seen of the songs of those bards whose 
 powers have, either occasionally or constantly, been called into exercise 
 by ' the silent eloquence of flowers, or the vocal song of birds.' The editor 
 of this neat volume has shown great discrimination, and must have em- 
 ployed considerable labour in the collection. He also has added many 
 valuable Notes to some of the Poems. The volume, as to its appearance, 
 does credit to the press of Leeds."— Leeds Mercury, Nov. 2nd, 1833. 
 
 " This selection has either been made with extraordinary taste and feli- 
 city, or else there is an evident inspiration in the works of Nature ; for, as 
 a volume of light and pleasing poetry we scarcely know of any which ex- 
 ceeds the one before us. To the latter cause we feel willing to ascribe 
 its manifest excellence, although we must bear testimony to the judicious 
 notes of the editor, which considerably enhance the value of the poems. 
 A Hibernian friend at our elbow, compares the pages of this volume to an 
 old fashioned chintz curtain — ' full of birds and flowers meeting.' We can- 
 not pass over the aim of the collection without commendation, as we know 
 of no publication more likely to awaken in young minds a keen relish for 
 the wonders and beauties of creation ; nor in those of more advanced years 
 a volume better calculated to keep alive all the pure feelings of the heart." 
 —Literary Gazette, No. 877, Nov. 9th, 1833. 
 
 " This is a pretty book and well-imagined. It shows extensive reading 
 and good taste. All the best things which our bards have said of birds and 
 flowers, are here gathered into a garland, and illustrated by useful notes ; 
 nor are herbs and trees forgotten." — Athenaum, No. 320, Dec. \4th, 1833. 
 
 " The volume before us is one filled to overflowing with a collection of 
 the pleasing thoughts and kindly emotions which sentimental naturalists 
 have, from time to time, encircled around and associated with, certain and 
 many of the innumerable objects of nature. We wish the author of the 
 compilation all success — he deserves it." — Magazine of Natural History, No. 
 37, Jan. 1834. 
 
 V. 
 
 CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE as displayed in the Life and Wri- 
 tings of St. Paul. By the Author of " Christian Retirement." — 
 Second Edition.— 12mo., Price Gs., Cloth Boards. 
 
 VI. 
 CHRISTIAN RETIREMENT, or Spiritual Exercises of the 
 Heart.— Sixth Edition.— 12mo., Price 6s. 6d., Cloth Boards.
 
 li 
 
 vn. 
 
 PSALMS AND HYMNS kor Public and Private Use. By W. H. 
 Bathurst, A. M., Rector of Barwick-in-Elmet.— 18mo., Price 2s. 6d., Bound. 
 
 VIII. 
 CONVERSION; in a Series of all the Cases recorded in the 
 New Testament, Defective, Doubtful, and Real : intended as 
 a Help to Self-Examination. By the Rev. J. K. Craig, Oxon., In- 
 cumbent of Oulton-cum-Woodlesford. — 2 Vols. 12mo., Price 10s., Cloth 
 Boards. 
 
 IX. 
 
 FOUR TESTS OF TRUE RELIGION. By the same Author.— 12mo., 
 Price Is. 6d. 
 
 X. 
 
 SERMONS, by James Parsons, Minister of Lendal Chapel, York.— 
 Third Edition.— 8vo., Price I2s. 
 
 This interesting Volume of Sermons has been noticed with such com- 
 mendations, by the leading Reviews and Magazines, as might have been 
 anticipated from the talent and eloquence of the author. 
 
 XI. 
 HISTORY IN ALL AGES, in One Vol., Foolscap 8vo., Fourth Edition 
 now in the Press, Price 7s. 
 
 "This is a work of distinguished talent and of eminently correct prin- 
 ciples ; exhibiting, in a catechetical form, a most interesting and compre- 
 hensive sketch of history, from the earliest periods down to the present 
 moment. — We know not who may be its author; but he bids fair to rival 
 most other writers in the same department. His arrangements are most lu- 
 cid, his selectiors are singularly judicious, and the deference paid by him 
 to revealed religion, and to the great principles of the Christian faith, is 
 alike creditable to his judgment and to his heart. To public schools, aca- 
 demies in general, and private families, we beg earnestly to recommend this 
 able and judicious compendium." — Evangelical Magazine. 
 
 " All works of this kind are useful and valuable if they are edited on 
 sound principles and a good plan of reference.— And such is the present 
 volume, which is printed for the Proprietors of Publications on Christian 
 Principles, judiciously arranged and comprehending so ample a store of in- 
 formation, that it may be truly said to furnish a satisfactory outline of 
 ' History in all Ages.' " — Literary Gazette. 
 
 " This work has justly, as we think, obtained a wide circulation, and 
 it is likely to prove a standard work for the instruction of youth. Its plan 
 is that of dialogue, and it gives the rise, progress, and decay, of all the 
 states that have existed in ages past ; and it traces the history of the mo- 
 dern nations with great accuracy and brevity." — New Monthly Magazine, 
 April, 1832. 
 
 XII. 
 HISTORY OF THE JEWS, IN ALL AGES. By the Author of 
 " History in All Ages."— In One Vol., 12mo., Hall' Bound, Price 10s. 6d. 
 
 " It is impossible for us to peruse any chapter in this volume without 
 being roused to attention by the numerous incidents which it contains. In
 
 every part we find facts bordering on the marvellous ; and in the extraor- 
 dinary events which meet us in every stage, we can hardly avoid acknow- 
 ledging the power of God overruling secondary causes, and leading to re- 
 sults which more rational calculation would scarcely have anticipated. To 
 the reader who wishes for an acquaintance with Jewish history, this is just 
 such a work as his wants require. It appears to contain every thing needful 
 to give ample information respecting this very extraordinary people, with- 
 out being stretched to an immoderate length." — Imperial Magazine, April, 
 1832. 
 
 "' The History of the Jews' is comprehensive, and yet perspicuous — 
 written with great care, and with a laudable design, which entitles the au- 
 thor to the respect of every genuine believer in the truth of Revelation. 
 The present work contains all the principles of Mr. Gleig, in his history of 
 the Bible, but in a superior style. It is a book which we cordially recom- 
 mend, because it does not disguise the genuine features and natural dignity 
 of Scripture history, or throw a veil of confusion and doubt over the sacred 
 truths of Revelation. It is philosophical, but not sceptical; it establishes 
 faith on its proper foundation, and while it addresses us as intellectual be- 
 ings, it tells us that our reason must bow to Scripture, and our faith be- 
 lieve a speaking God."— New Monthly Magazine, April, 1832. 
 
 " As a concise view of Jewish History, consistent with the data of the 
 Holy Scriptures, it is a volume of interest and usefulness, which may be ad- 
 vantageously read by all classes."— Literary Gazette, No. 788, Feb. 1832. 
 
 " The principles, in short, upon which this work is founded, are, that 
 l lie statements of the Scriptures, however irreconcileable with human max- 
 ims in parts, are to be received with all the submission which their divh) 
 authority demands. Agreeably to this plan the work is throughout con- 
 ducted, and in a way that reflects credit no less on the principles than the 
 talent of the Author."— Monthly Magazine, No. 75, March, 1832. 
 
 " The History of the Jews, published a few years ago by Professor Mil - 
 man, and extensively circulated, is too well known as a work of sceptical 
 character and tendency. To that mischievous publication the volume be- 
 fore us is a complete antidote. It is written upon purely Christian princi- 
 ples ; and, as a literary composition, reflects honour upon the talents of the 
 anonymous author."— Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine, March, 1832. 
 
 " ' The History of the Jews, in all Ages,' is one of the best summaries 
 of Scriptural History, which we have seen.— It is a valuable production." 
 —Christian Guardian, July, 1832. 
 
 " The work is compiled with care and diligence ; it is written in a clear 
 and flowing style ; the descriptions are animated and often eloquent ; and 
 all the historical characters are brought to the standard of Christian moral- 
 ity, and by it approved or condemned. Much light is cast upon Scripture 
 history, and especially upon the state of the Jews prior to and at the ad- 
 vent of the Messiah. The narrative is rapid, well connected, and not en- 
 cumbered with disquisitions. The fulfilment of the most remarkable pro- 
 phecies concerning the Jews and other nations is distinctly shown ; and the 
 history of that extraordinary people, who are to this day a standing miracle, 
 .cfly sketched up to modem times in all -ountries ol the world, We
 
 can with pleasure recommend this volume as highly interesting, and calou 
 lated to be useful, specially to tlie young." — Leeds Merniry, Jul// 14, 1832. 
 
 To give more extended circulation to this popular and interesting work, 
 the Proprietors have published a School Edition, altered so as to correspond 
 with the " History in all Ages," in one Volume, Foolscap Octavo, price 
 Seven Shillings. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 GEOGRAPHY IN ALL AGES. By the Author of " History in all 
 Ages," and " History of the Jews in all Ages."— In One Vol., Fools- 
 cap 8vo., Price 8s. 
 
 " The two former works of this anonymous author reflect great credit 
 upon his piety, research, and judgment ; and the volume now before us, 
 which is supplemental to the others, will not detract from his well-earned 
 praise. It is a very comprehensive and useful compilation ; and while it 
 will be consulted with great advantage by the general reader, it will be 
 particularly useful to the Christian student, for the view which it gives of 
 Scripture Geography, and of the various Missionary stations in heathen 
 and Mahometan countries." — Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine, January, 1833. 
 
 " This is a very superior and complete system of Geography; not on 
 the extended scale of Malte Brun, cr embracing scientific disquisitions, but 
 adapted to popular use. It is intended for the instruction of the young, 
 and we think it extremely well adapted for that purpose, — containing quite 
 as many particulars of Physical and Political Geography as are desirable, 
 and also a view of the great political divisions of the earth, " in all ages,'' 
 as well as remarks of a moral nature relative to national character and his- 
 torical events, calculated to produce a just impression on the minds of 
 youth. The plan of the work is catechetical, — unquestionably the most 
 useful for the purpose of education. It is written in a clear, lively, and 
 popular style ; and, far from resembling the dry skeleton-like abstracts of 
 geographical science often taught in schools, it is made, by the admixture 
 of historical facts and judicious remarks, into an attractive and pleasing 
 volume. Very great labour must have been bestowed upon the work : from 
 the examination we have given it, we think highly of its accuracy. One 
 considerable section is devoted to Religious Geography, and describes the 
 religions of the different nations of the earth, and the stations and success 
 of Christian Missions." — Leeds Mercury, Nov. 24, 1832. 
 
 " This work is well calculated to answer the purpose it has in view ; 
 ' to furnish a compendium of ancient and modern geographical knowledge, 
 and a history of the progress of geographical science.' We should think it 
 would be very well adapted to the higher classes in schools." — Congre " 
 Horn "', July, 1633. 
 
 " This work contains a large portion of important and well-digested 
 information upon all topics connected both with ancient and modem Geo- 
 graphy. The work will be found of the greatest service in all establish- 
 ment-, for (he young.'' — Evangelical Magazine, Jam-, I 
 
 " This volume communicates that useful knowledge of which no one 
 to be ignorant. On tin* account 'GeogiaphyinallAgeS/hasa
 
 claim to recommendation, and by thus calling the public attention to iu 
 contents, we discharge an obligation under which the perusal has laid us." 
 — Imperial Magazine, March, 1833. 
 
 The mode of printing the above works is such as to comprize in one 
 volume as much matter as is usually contained in two Octavo volumes; and 
 the Index of each Work for perspicuity and distinctness of reference, will 
 be found to exceed any Index within the range of British literature. 
 
 LATELY PUBLISHED. 
 
 XIV. 
 In One large Volume, handsomely printed in Demy Octavo, Cloth Boards, 
 price lis. 6d., with a Portrait ; the Fourth Edition, of 
 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE, CHARACTER, AND MINISTRY OF 
 THE VENERABLE WILLIAM BRAMWELL, lately a Wesleyan-Me- 
 thodist Itinerant Preacher: with Copious Extracts from his Interesting and 
 Extensive Correspondence. By James SrGSTON. To which are added, a 
 CHARACTER of MR. BRAMWELL, by Mr. James Wood, the late Dr. 
 Taft, and Mr. W. Dawson; and the SERMON preached on the Occasion 
 of Mr. Bramwell's Death, by Mr. Dawson. 
 
 London : Simpkin and Marshall ; Hamilton, Adams, and Co. ; J. V. 
 Knight, and A. Pickard, Leeds. 
 
 XV. 
 
 In One VoL 12mo. Price 8s. Bound. 
 THE COMPANION TO THE IRON TRADE, &c, being a General 
 Assistant to the Iron-Master and Merchant, Iron and Brass Founder, Lead 
 Merchant, Copper-Smith, Machine-Maker, Whitesmith, &o, in a Series of 
 Comprehensive Tables for Expeditiously ascertaining the Value of Goods 
 sold by the Hundred Weight of 112 Pounds, from One Farthing to One 
 Shilling per Pound, each Table extending from lib. to 20U Tons. To which 
 is added, a variety of valuable Information, useful in Daily Practice ; com- 
 piled from the best Authors. By George Beecroft, Iron-Master, Kirk- 
 stall-Forge, near Leeds. 
 
 London : Simpkin and Marshall ; Hamilton, Adams, & Co. ; J. Y. 
 Knight, and A. Pickard, Leeds. 
 
 IN THE PRESS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 MEMOIR OF A BELOVED DAUGHTER.— Bv a Mother. In One 
 Vol. 18nio. 
 
 London : T. Hurst, 65, St. Paul's Church Yard.
 
 PREPARING FOR THE PRESS. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE SACRED SCRIPTURES: collected 
 from the Religious Rites, Ceremonies, Customs, Manners, Proverbial 
 Forms of Speech, and Literature of the Hindoos, during a Residence in the 
 East of nearly Fourteen Years. By Joseph Roberts, Corresponding 
 Member of the Royal Asiatic Society. — In One Vol. 8vo. 
 
 London: Published by John Mason, 14, City-Road, and 66, Patemoster- 
 Row. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 THE ARMINIAN AND CALVINISTIC SYSTEMS COMPARED in 
 their Principles, Tendencies, and Results. By W. Moorhouse. 
 
 This Work is intended to be upon the Plan of the Rev. A. Fuller's 
 " Calvinistic and Socinian Systems compared." 
 
 THIS DAY IS PUBLISHED. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE LIFE OF SAMUEL DREW, A. M., Formerly of St. Austell, 
 Cornwall, Author of Treatises on the Immateriality and Immortality of the 
 Soul, &c, and late Editor of the Imperial Magazine ; with Selections from 
 his Correspondence and Unpublished Papers. — By his Eldest Son. — In 
 One Vol. 8vo., Cloth, Price 12s. 
 
 London : Longman and Co., Paternoster-Row, and Fisher and Co., New- 
 gate-Street. 
 
 XX. 
 
 In One Vol., 12mo., (comprising 520 closely-printed pages,) price 8s. 6d., 
 cloth extra, with a highly-finished Portrait, engraved by Dean, 
 THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF ADAM CLARKE, LL.D. : to which 
 is added, An Historical Sketch of the Controversy concerning the Sonship 
 of Christ, particularly as connected with the proceedings of the Wesleyan- 
 Methodist Conference. 
 
 " This work contains a clever, well-written, and impartial account of 
 the life and labours of that eminent and universally-respected scholar and 
 Christian ; and, in addition, gives a valuable and interesting historical 
 sketch of the Controversy concerning the Sonship of Christ." — Birmingham 
 Journal. 
 
 " Dr. Adam Clarke was, unquestionably, an extraordinary man : 
 Peers and peasants, learned and unlearned, Churchmen and Dissenters, 
 being judges. To Young Men desirous of separating themselves, in order 
 to seek and intermeddle with all wisdom, we recommend a persusal of the
 
 labours of Dr. Clarke, a scholar, to 066 the words of one of the deepest 
 thinkers of the day, comparable to nothing but Noah's ark ! By Metho- 
 dist Preachers, who have entered into the labours of their fathers, and 
 are now ' at ease in Zion,' this work may be read with stirring profit to 
 their minds. Intelligent and Independent Methodists who wish 
 for correct information on the growing power of the Conference, and the 
 true state of tlie Connexion, will do wisely to consult this volume. Pole- 
 mics will find in it much reasoning on the ' Sonship of Christ.' And Cler- 
 gymen may leam from it the power of the Wedeyan Branch of the Church 
 of England, as well as its disposition to help her, in this her time of need ! 
 The Methodist Friends of the late Doctor will also possess in this book 
 a full-length portrait of their favourite « Rabbi.' " — Bath Herald. 
 
 London : John Stephens, 4, Red Lion-Court, Fleet-Street, sold by Simp- 
 kin and Marshall, Stationers'-Hall-Court ; James Duncan, Paternoster- 
 Row; Whittaker, Ave-Maria-Lane;— Leeds, W. E. Somerscale ;— York, 
 R. Burdekin ;— Newcastle, D.Wilson; Manchester, Webb and Simms;— 
 Birmingham, Wrightson and Webb ;— Liverpool, Walmsley ; and all Book- 
 sellers. 
 
 N.B. Wesleyan-Methodists in the country, who may wish to purchase- 
 copies of the above-mentioned Work, must give their Orders to Booksel- 
 lers, as those Wesley an-Methodist Preachers who are agents of the Wesleyan- 
 Methodist Book-Room will not be able to procure it through that channel, 
 the Book-Committee having resolved that their Steward shall not advertise 
 or sell it. 
 
 \. pickard, printer, i.kkds.
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below 
 
 10m-ll, '50(2555)470 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 UNrVEFC ' OP CALIFORNIA 
 IX .
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 000 367 884 4