THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 POEMS, 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 I ill ill 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES S. MORGAN. 
 
 TODMOEDEN: 
 PEINTED AND PUBLISHED BY E. CHAMBEES. 
 
 3IDCCCLXI.
 
 soy 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Kindly this volume pray receive. 
 The Author asks, with your kind leave ; 
 Have sympathy with him, whose life 
 Has been almost one scene of strife; — 
 Who ne'er was school'd in college hall, 
 Nor studied in carv'd oaken stall, 
 But, struggling on through life's wild flood, 
 In every ill has found some good ; 
 Aud in the journey, humbly trod, 
 Has recognised an all-wise God. 
 Thus has he read his Maker's ways, 
 And from his heart responsive lays 
 Have risen to the Source of light, 
 Whose beams illum'd his mental sight, 
 Gave courage to his heart, and power 
 To battle when dark clouds did lour ; 
 And make the best of life's brief day, 
 Cheer'd on by Hope's sweet soothing ray ; 
 Which op'd beyond a prospect fair, 
 Unbounded by sad cank'ring care — 
 Where joy and peace continuous flow, 
 And hearts with love for ever glow. 
 May some stray thought in this small book 
 Lead some to think and inward look — 
 To know themselves, their hearts to sift, 
 And from this earth their spirits lift : 
 Then will its Author be repaid, 
 And not regret these efforts made. 
 
 QcrrM 4 a
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Page 
 
 To Poesy 3 
 
 Oh ! Strive to Live a Happy Life 4 
 
 A Sabbath Morning's Musings (> 
 
 To the Stars 7 
 
 A Sabbath Evening's Musings 8 
 
 Love the Truth '.) 
 
 Love Thy Neighbour as Thyself 10 
 
 Our Hopes in Heaven ]1 
 
 Hope's Bright Star 12 
 
 Forget Thee Not 13 
 
 OnSpring 14 
 
 The Death of a Friend 1«'> 
 
 An Aged Penitent at a Grave IS 
 
 The Tale of a Flower 20 
 
 The Poet 22 
 
 Hope 24 
 
 Spring Flowers 25 
 
 To Part— Perhaps For Ever 2G 
 
 The Christian Factory Girl 27 
 
 The Source of Happiness 29 
 
 The Loved One 31 
 
 Christian Confidence 33 
 
 A Funeral Hymn ;>5 
 
 An August Evening ;'.•; 
 
 New Year's Musings 38 
 
 A Night in Summer 40
 
 \ i CONTENTS. 
 
 Pag* 
 
 Autumn Thoughts 42 
 
 The Disappointed Bachelor II 
 
 Prayer for the Allies, during the Russian War 4<; 
 
 The Blighted Flower 4* 
 
 My Native Place 50 
 
 Autumn • r> - 
 
 The Vale of Todmorden 54 
 
 SONUS. 
 
 The Enamoured Lover 59 
 
 The Spirit of the Storm at Sea 60 
 
 Sleep 62 
 
 Tlic Christian Working-Man's Song 63 
 
 Wake! 64 
 
 Constancy 6() 
 
 Serenade ( »7 
 
 A Love Song 68 
 
 The Absent Lover 70 
 
 SONNETS, &c. 
 
 To J. Montgomery, Esq., the Christian Poet 73 
 
 To the Lark 74 
 
 To Henry Kirke White 75 
 
 An Enfant 76 
 
 To William Cowper, the Poet 77 
 
 To the Ocean 78 
 
 TotheMoon 79 
 
 To May sn 
 
 On the Death of a Young Lady 81 
 
 Adam and Eve in Paradise 82 
 
 December °«> 
 
 The Mountain Shepherd's Child ^4
 
 POEMS
 
 TO l J OESY. 
 
 PRIDE of my heart, I welcome thee, 
 Thou fairy Queen, sweet Poesy ! 
 Thy maiden hands so gently rear 
 The flowers of thought sublimely fair. 
 
 I've woo'd thee at the break of day, 
 When twilight streak'd the heavens with gray . 
 In meadow paths 'mid sunny showers, 
 Within the graceful hanging bowers, 
 
 Within the rich secluded vale, 
 Where lovers meet to tell their tale : 
 By rippling streams and laughing dell, 
 My heart has felt thy magic spell. 
 
 Or in the evening's parting ray, 
 When How'rets' smiles do fade away, 
 And vernal glooms o'erspread the earth, 
 rhou hast to extacics o-ivon birth.
 
 4 OH ! STRIVE TO LIVE A HAPPY LIFE. 
 
 Or when heaven's starry trains so bright, 
 Like gems, do stud the hreast of night, 
 I've seen thee beaming in each sphere, 
 And worship'd Him who placed thee there. 
 
 0, in my heart he thy calm rest ; 
 Then shall my heart he truly blest, 
 And life, though drear, shall be to me 
 A Paradise, sweet Poesy ' 
 
 oh: strive to live a happy life. 
 
 OH ! strive to live a happy life, 
 Thou'lt be a better man — 
 Strive to do good to every one, 
 
 Be this thy aim and plan : 
 Then thou shalt share in others' bliss, 
 
 Whilst journeying below, 
 And feel a quietude within 
 Unruffled in its flow.
 
 OH! STRIVE TO LIVE A HAPPY LIFE. 
 
 Seek, then, to lead a happy life, 
 
 Resolve at once to try, 
 Let nought around thy purpose thwart, 
 
 But to thy duty fly ; 
 Hold up thy head and holdly face 
 
 The scoflings of this world, 
 For iu the end thou'lt victor he, 
 
 With Truth's bright flag unfurl'd. 
 
 Begin to lead a happy life, 
 
 Iu humble confidence 
 That Heaven may strength and courage give, 
 
 And e'er be thy defence : 
 So shall life's bitters sweeten'd be, 
 
 And dark forebodings cease 
 To rack thee in the midnight hour, 
 
 For God shall give thee peace. 
 
 Oh ! strive to live a happy life, 
 
 Though chequer'd be thy lot. 
 And know that God alone can bless 
 
 The palace and the cot ; 
 Seek, then, that blessing, rich and free, 
 
 To dwell within thy soul ; 
 Then shalt thou know 'tis happiness 
 
 Where He doth hold control.
 
 A SABBATH MOBNING'S MUSINGS. 
 
 ARISE ! my soul, expand thy wings, 
 And tow'r above all earthly things, 
 To regions bright and fair; 
 Where bowers Elysian, calm with peace 
 Invite to joys which never cease, 
 And all keep Sabbath there. 
 
 So will I hail this blessed day, 
 
 Its hallow'd hours, in which to pi»ay 
 
 For faith and mercy bere ; 
 And hold sweet intercourse with God, 
 "Whose Word is truth, and points the road 
 
 To yon' celestial sphere. 
 
 But oft hast thou, my wayward soul, 
 Suffer 'd such days and hours to roll 
 
 Unheeded, unimprov'd ; 
 Which mem'ry marshals in array. 
 And conscience proves that I did stray 
 
 From duty's path, nnmov'd. 
 
 Still, blessed God, Thou wilt impart, 
 To mine and ev'ry contrite heart, 
 
 A confidence secure ; 
 That when life's Sabbaths here shall close, 
 I'll have a Sabbath of repose 
 
 In Heaven, which shall endure.
 
 TO THE STARS. 
 
 YE stars ! the sparks of Heaven's divinity. 
 I wondering gaze upon the unity 
 Of God's great power, which shines with love's mild 
 
 ray 
 O'er your celestial path, where angels stray. 
 
 Beautiful pearls which deck the heavenly shore, 
 Ye shadow gems more precious yet in store ; 
 "Where cares their gloomy shadows ne'er shall fling, 
 But love refulgent beam from seraph's wing. 
 
 Beautiful beacons of that better land, 
 Enchantment round ye dwells by Heaven's command ; 
 Firing the gazing eye and thoughtful mind, 
 With extacies of joys divine in kind. 
 
 Oh 
 
 Beautiful lamps, ye stud the heavenly plain, 
 The brook reflects your imag'ry again ; 
 So doth the Christian shine 'mid error's night, 
 And mirrors forth in life Heaven's purer light. 
 
 Beautiful flow'rets, 'mid Heaven's purple sphere, 
 Ye arc as fair as when first planted there ; 
 But ye, with time, shall die and fade away, 
 When earth shall melt and sink into decay.
 
 A SABBATH EVENING'S MUSINGS. 
 
 HOW richly beautiful, how calm the scene; 
 1 climb the woodland heights at close of day, 
 When ev'ry zephyr whispers peace serene, 
 Ami all around (iod's goodness doth portray. 
 
 The vule beneath in verdure gaily dress'd, 
 Echoes the ev'ning hymns of thankful birds ; 
 And roving bees return with sweets compress'd, 
 While 'neath the cliffs repose the friendly herds. 
 
 Oh, holy scene ! a placid calm like this 
 Absorbs my soul, and bids life's cares retreat ; 
 This hour I'll consecrate, so full of bliss, 
 To God, who swells my soul with joys complete. 
 
 To Heav'n I'd raise my thoughts, where cherubs sing 
 Of love and truth, in symphonies divine ; 
 There would I soar on contemplation's wing, 
 And catch their spirit as they flying shine. 
 
 Thus may life's ev'ning hours unrufli'd roll, 
 Lit by Heaven's ceaseless, unexhausted ray, 
 "Which penetrates with light and hope the soul, 
 Illumes the grave, and points to endless day.
 
 LOVE THE TRUTH. 
 
 OH ! love the Truth, and guard it svell, 
 Whate'er thy station be ; 
 Let ev'ry look and action prove 
 
 Thy heart's sincerity ; 
 Nor e'er belie Truth's sacred claims, 
 
 Though self may be at stake, 
 But let an honest heart be thine — 
 To duty's call awake. 
 
 Oh ! love the Truth, its essence seek 
 
 Enshrin'd within thy breast ; 
 There let it dwell, thy nature form, 
 
 And prize it as thy guest : 
 Then shall each motive, wish, and thought 
 
 In harmony be found ; 
 Nor shall the shadow of deceit 
 
 Obscure the Truth profound. 
 
 Oh ! love the Truth ; 'tis beautiful 
 
 In prince, or peasant poor : 
 1 1 gives the throne true dignity, 
 
 The cottage hearth makes pure : 
 There Eden blooms where Truth doth reign. 
 
 Of heavenly purity ; 
 Shedding a radiance over all, 
 
 Clothed in divinity.
 
 lo 
 
 'LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR AS THYSELF." 
 
 OH ! "Love thy neighbour as thyself," 
 Nor spurn thy fellow-man ; 
 But recognise a brother's face, 
 
 Whose life is but a span. 
 Give kindly looks, they seem thee best — ■ 
 
 They warm a brother's heart ; 
 But better far are actions good 
 Which beams of joy- impart. 
 
 Oh ! " Love thy neighbour as thyself," 
 
 Obey Heaven's high command ; 
 Give of thy treasure, to the poor 
 
 Extend a brother's hand. 
 'Tis God who gives and can withhold 
 
 Whate'er thou may'st enjoy ; 
 Then love thy neighbour with pure love, 
 
 Unmix'd with selfs alloy. 
 
 Oh ! " Love thy neighbour as thyself," 
 
 That holy influence prove ; 
 In blessing still be truly blest, 
 
 And feel 'tis bliss to love. 
 Heaven's mercies then will crown thy days, 
 
 And life flow sweetly on ; 
 A peace serene shall dwell within, 
 
 And Heaven and thee be one.
 
 11 
 
 OUR HOPES IN HEAVEN. 
 
 I SAW her suffer, — but 0, let it pass, 
 Her thorny woes and pains I would not toll, — 
 I saw life's purple streamlet ebbing fast, 
 And heard that lovely maid sigh " Fare-thee-well." 
 My spirit did not droop to see her die, 
 Nor did I feel the torrent of distress ; 
 And if a tear-drop on my cheeks did lie, 
 It was the tear of nature's selfishness. 
 
 I felt a lonely wand'rer on earth's waste, 
 From which that bright and angel spirit flew ; 
 I felt how cruel treachery had trac'd 
 Its gloomy shadow on my path all through ; 
 And when I saw her spirit fly in death 
 To a far brighter spot beyond the sky, 
 My spirit sigh'd to yield its fleeting breath, 
 And wish'd, like her, in Christian hope to die. 
 
 This world is dark, but darker it would be 
 "Were it not for that brighter world above, 
 Which sheds its cheering beams of purity 
 Into the soul, kindling joy, hope and love, 
 Which make the Christian Pilgrim calmly bear 
 The ills of life and wrongs to virtue given, 
 Fixing his eye of Faith on that bless'd sphere 
 Where his best hopes from him shall ne'er be riven.
 
 12 
 HOPE'S BRIGHT STAR. 
 
 HOW beautiful the placid lake, 
 Which doth heaven's image bear ; 
 Reflecting starry flowers above — 
 A gleaming phalanx there. 
 
 But mem'ry views the troubled sea 
 
 Witn rage upon its breast ; 
 Tossing at will the foundering bark, — 
 
 Its crew with fear oppress'd. 
 
 Yet, when upon the sporting wave 
 
 A ray of sunlight gleams ; 
 Then Hope inspires the downcast soul, 
 
 And cheers him with its beams. 
 
 A calm awaits the raging storm — 
 
 Sweet hours of quietude ; 
 For soft winds sing a peaceful lay 
 
 To soothing solitude. 
 
 So, though my bark be tempest-toss'd 
 
 On life's relentless sea, 
 I'll fix my eye on hope's bright star, 
 
 In calm serenity.
 
 FORGET THEE NOT. 13 
 
 And 'neath its sweet and soft control 
 
 I'll sing of faith and love, 
 Till death disturbs my tranquil breast, 
 
 And Hope's Star fades above. 
 
 FORGET THEE NOT. 
 
 FORGET thee? yes, 
 When beauty fair forgets to fade, 
 And bees forsake the village glade ; 
 Or when the honey-suckle sweet 
 Shall sigh to leave its wild retreat ; 
 Or when the pretty moth shall say, 
 " I'll not fly near yon' taper's ray ;" 
 Or when oceans' waves shall cease to roll, 
 And hope forsake the human soul. 
 
 Forget thee ? yes, 
 "When mothers spurn their infants' smile, 
 And prattling tongues cease to beguile ; 
 When beaming eyes no heart can move, 
 And from the world be banish'd love ; 
 When friends refuse the parting kiss, 
 And heaven is not the throne of bliss ; — > 
 Till then, whate'er my changing lot, 
 I'll still, dear friend, forget thee not.
 
 It 
 
 ON SPRING. 
 
 NOW Nature doth rejoice, 
 Waking, with her sweet voice, 
 The slumb'ring bee. 
 Let us join in the strain, 
 With thankful hearts again, 
 "Whilst Flora's flowry train 
 Conies forth in glee. 
 
 Tis God who beauty gives 
 Each sunny flower that lives — 
 
 Each leaping rill — 
 The rocky heights we meet — 
 The woodland's calm retreat, 
 Where plants with fragrance sweet 
 
 The bowers do fill. 
 
 The blythe lark in his bower, 
 Drinks of the crystal shower, 
 
 At morning light ; 
 And each golden beam 
 "Which dances on the stream, 
 Kindles a hopeful gleam 
 
 Of pure delight.
 
 ON SPRING. 15 
 
 So, amid forests wild, 
 Behold each tlow'ry child, 
 
 Array'd in truth — 
 With modest angel mien, 
 On hills and valleys green, 
 Where Paradise is seen, 
 
 In pristine youth. 
 
 Thus, learn from all around 
 The bright enamell"d ground, 
 
 That God is love ; 
 Whose mercies, ever new, 
 Brighter than drops of dew, 
 Illume life's pathway through. 
 
 To Heaven above.
 
 10 
 THE DEATH OF A FEIEND. 
 
 WITH radiant hope and soul serene, 
 She sweetly closed her eyes, 
 While those around gazed on the scene 
 
 With fond regrets and sighs, 
 That one so lov'd, so kind and good, 
 Should die whilst in life's opening bud. 
 
 Her cares and sorrows now have past — 
 
 The storm of life is o'er ; 
 No gloomy clouds their shadows cast 
 
 On that Elysian shore 
 Where crystal streams are ever bright, 
 Of which she drinks with sweet delight. 
 
 She was a model for the gay 
 
 To wisely imitate ; 
 She lov'd her God, strove to obey, 
 
 Whilst in this trial state : 
 Though frail in frame, yet strong in mind, 
 She lov'd and serv'd the human kind.
 
 THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. 17 
 
 Unerring Wisdom thought it best 
 
 To end her mortal strife, 
 And take her to that land of rest 
 
 For all of holy life, 
 "Whose souls absorb'd, do daily prove 
 The riches of a Saviour's love. 
 
 May friends who often weep for thee 
 
 Sweet consolation take, 
 And deem it better thou art free 
 
 From sordid cares, which wake 
 Unholy feelings in the heart — 
 Those foes of peace, which grief impart. 
 
 0, may my life so sweetly close 
 
 In faith, and hope, and love ! 
 Yielding my spirit, in repose, 
 
 To God, my friend above ; 
 Then shall His angels " welcome" sing, 
 And Heaven with joyous praises ring.
 
 18 
 AN AGED PENITENT AT A GRAVE. 
 
 CA.EE-WOEN was his mien, and fix'd was his eye, 
 As he gazed on that lone and dreary cell ; 
 His tempest-toss'd soul compcll'd him to sigh 
 For visions, now fled, and their charming spell. 
 
 The bright days of youth, and its flow'ry way, 
 Clothed in sadness, now seem'd to return ; 
 
 And, like spectres grim, in fearful array, 
 
 They mocked his sighs with a fiendish scorn 
 
 For spent were those clays in pleasure and glee. 
 
 But, contrite in heart, he now clings to Hope ; 
 And in Truth's pure light, by Faith he doth see, 
 
 That Mercy's great scheme has infinite scope. 
 
 Believing, he rais'd his eyes to the skies, 
 As silvery clouds their radiance cast ; 
 
 And strong was his Faith, which banish'd his sighs, 
 And God, for Christ's sake, forgave him the past.
 
 AN AGED PENITENT AT A GRAVE. 19 
 
 Thus bless'd, the grave of his fathers he left, 
 
 Prepared to bear the ills of this life ; 
 Though scoffers may scorn, and he of friends reft, 
 
 Like Martyrs and Saints he'll shun not the strife. 
 
 Should Satan with spirits of gloom appear, 
 Surrounding his path on every hand ; 
 
 Yet such a legion he need not to fear, 
 
 With God over all, in Him shall he stand. 
 
 Soon the conflict will close — in victory end — 
 And Sin and Satan no more shall have power ; 
 
 For God is the Saint's unchangeable friend. 
 His portion in life, and death's gloomy hour. 
 
 So shall the dark grave no terrors present, 
 
 For He who is Light shall cheer the dread vale- 
 Inspire the hope of a joyous ascent, 
 
 And angels, in welcome, shall sing — " All hail !
 
 20 
 THE TALE OF A FLOWER. 
 
 WITHIN a fragrant dell there grew 
 A pale white rose, fed by the dew ; 
 Beneath a shady greenwood tree, 
 A simple tale it told to me. 
 And thus it spoke, with tearful eye — 
 With upward glance, and plaintive sigh: 
 " One summer's day a lady came, 
 Fair Ellen May, her lovely name ; 
 A fairer lady ne'er could he, 
 With fairy step and full of glee ; 
 She look'd so bland and bright that day, 
 As sweet as any flower in May. 
 Her tresses black streamed in the air, 
 So beautiful beyond compare. 
 ' Once I was innocent,' she said, 
 ' As any flower amid the glade ; 
 But, oh! an artful swain did come, 
 And bore me from my native home. 
 His wily tongue did me beguile, 
 And mock'd my innocence the while: 
 So was I left to sigh ond weep 
 And wildly gaze upon the deep ; 
 Where oft for him I call'd in vain, 
 Who plung'd my soul in untold pain ! 
 But conscience would not let him rest
 
 THE TALE OF A FLOWER. oi 
 
 Till he relieved my aching breast. 
 Thus back he came to me forlorn : 
 That day was fix'd the marriage morn. 
 With tears he bath'd my pale young brow, 
 "Which silent grief had sadden'd now. 
 Soon to the village church we sped : 
 With flowers like thee I deck'd my head, 
 And gaily spent the day and night, 
 Till the blue sky was streak'd with light 
 But then a change came o'er the scene, 
 And sorrow dwelt where joy had been ; 
 For death, the tyrant, broke our band : 
 The bridegroom marked was by his hand 
 To foil beneath his iron sway, 
 And perish at the break of day. 
 Thus blighted were my hopes that morn. 
 To sorrow only I seem*d born ; 
 Mv reason from me took its flight, 
 And left my soul as dark as night. 
 Hither I hied to this lone dell, 
 And planted thee, my grief to tell.' 
 That lady now doth gently rest 
 Beneath my head, with quiet breast ; 
 And when the Autumn winds shall blow, 
 With Ellen I shall be laid low."
 
 2'2 
 THE POET. 
 
 SLIGHTED often and discarded 
 Are the Toot's lavs, 
 Though with heavenly thoughts they're laden, 
 
 Scattering purest rays ; — 
 Revealing duty's holy path 
 'Mid the gloom around, 
 That men may safely steer their course, 
 And in love abound. 
 
 Yet men deny the Poet's might, 
 
 And scorn his mission 
 To this world of sin and blindness 
 
 As a dreamy vision ; 
 Whilst they mock his loftiest strains 
 
 As wild ravings, 
 Unfit for such a clime as this, 
 
 Or the soul's cravings. 
 
 Ob ! how oft is he neglected — 
 
 Pines in secrecy ; 
 Though with God he holds communion, 
 
 And with spirits free. 
 His noble soul, by Heaven endors'd, 
 
 Tends ever upward ; 
 And like the eagle, in his flight, 
 
 Leaves the tinted sward.
 
 THE POET. 
 
 Taunt him not, nor treat him harshly, 
 
 Though he humble seem — 
 Have not gems or richest jewels 
 
 On his robes to gleam ; 
 But behold him as a prophet 
 
 With a secret spell, 
 AVbose teachings tend to elevate 
 
 Those in whom they dwell. 
 
 Well, if his noble thoughts were felt — 
 
 His might recognised, 
 Earth would be a holy temple, 
 
 And fair truth be prized ; — 
 Then would the golden age appear 
 
 By seers predicted, 
 "When peace triumphantly shall reign 
 
 0"er earth perfected.
 
 24 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 II ritten whilst on the road tn Todmorden, in t>'«rr/i of employment, 
 along with my esteemed friend William Rothera.) 
 
 SWEET Hope ! exert thy soothing power 
 O'er this my wayward mind, 
 And now, in sorrow's trying hour, 
 May I thy warm rays find. 
 
 What, if portentous prospects hring 
 
 Despair and its alloy ? 
 Still, blest companion, 'neath thy wing 
 
 My heart shall leap with joy ! 
 
 Thou sweet'ner of this bitter life, 
 
 A balm for ev'ry ill, 
 Can solace give 'mid nature's strife, 
 
 Though thwarted be my will. 
 
 Thy friendly hand directs my soul 
 
 Through every obscure way ; 
 And, 'neath thy gentle, calm control, 
 
 I'll pass my life away. 
 
 What, though misfortune be my doom ? 
 
 Yet with this life 'twill cease ; 
 For in the cheerless, silent tomb, 
 
 There shall I rest in peace.
 
 55 
 SPEING FLOWERS. 
 
 TIAIR prophets of a brighter day, 
 -L Scatter'd o'er hill and dale, 
 
 Ye breathe around sweet innocence, 
 And kiss the passing gale. 
 
 The bee doth celebrate in son<? 
 
 The birth of virgin flower ; 
 The tinsei'd butterfly doth sleep 
 
 Within the tulip's bower. 
 
 Your modest eyes do beam with love, 
 And greet each sunny ray ; 
 
 While ev'ry bud its incense gives 
 To Heaven, by night and day. 
 
 Enchanting slumbers round ye dwell, 
 When night shades hover round ; 
 
 But when Sol's face again appears, 
 Ye brighter deck the ground. 
 
 Ye purest children of the earth, 
 
 Of heavenly parentage, 
 Ve drink of sparkling dews at morn, 
 
 And preach to every a^e.
 
 26 
 
 TO PART-PERHAPS FOR EVER. 
 
 Lovely ye are, and beautiful, 
 And cheer this dreary scene ; 
 
 Waking within the Christian soul 
 A blissful hope serene. 
 
 TO PART— PERHAPS FOR EVER. 
 
 AH ! to part— perhaps for ever, 
 How painful is the thought ; 
 The anxious look, the tear-gem'd cheek, 
 Call feelings forth unsought. 
 
 Tis then love wakes, as from a dream, 
 
 With power omnipotent ; 
 The joys of home and weeping friends, 
 
 Prostrate the spirit spent. 
 
 Thus to sever hearts united 
 
 In duty, truth, and love, 
 Requires a hopeful fortitude — 
 
 A trust in joys above. 
 
 Yet parted we must be on earth, 
 
 So let us be resigned ; 
 For Providence can never err, 
 
 Nor God e'er prove unkind.
 
 27 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN FACTORY GIRL. 
 
 HOW pretty and how neat she looks 
 Whilst tripping on her way ; 
 She seems as merry as a bird, 
 
 Singing its morning lay ; 
 Thus to her work she blithely goes, 
 
 The picture of content, 
 Her face lit up with rosy smiles, 
 By nature kindly lent. 
 
 So she pursues her daily toil, 
 
 A happy little maid, 
 Amid the thousand spindles round, 
 
 In sunshine and in shade ; 
 Until the dewy evening comes, 
 
 When she from toil shall rest 
 Within her little cot so neat, 
 
 As bird within its nest. 
 
 Now seated at a shining fire, 
 
 She looks more happy still, 
 And with a thankful heart she takes 
 
 Of wholesome food her fill ; 
 Then, as a Christian, humbly asks 
 
 God's blessing on the same, 
 And, ere she rises from her seat, 
 
 Blesseth His holy name. 
 
 E
 
 28 THE CHRISTIAN FACTORY GIRL. 
 
 Thus at the pensive evening hour, 
 
 She lifts her heart in prayer, 
 And in her lowly solitude 
 
 Remembers God is there ; 
 So doth she close the busy day 
 
 In peace with all mankind, 
 Recounting mercies ever new — 
 
 The solace of her mind. 
 
 Serenely thus she goes to rest, 
 
 And lays her cares aside, 
 Trusting in Him who never sleeps — 
 
 Whose love doth e'er abide ; 
 He is her guide and sure defence, 
 
 She fears no earthly power ; 
 Tor He His children ever keeps, 
 
 By day or midnight hour.
 
 29 
 THE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS. 
 
 ONE evening, in the month of May, 
 I climb'd a rugged hill ; 
 Nature was beautiful and gay, 
 Yet sorrow fill'd me still. 
 
 The joyful birds around me sang, 
 
 In holy extacy ; 
 While at my feet the daisy sprang, 
 
 And laden came the bee. 
 
 No cloud o'erspread the azure sky, 
 
 All was serenity, 
 Except my heart, which heav'd a sigh, 
 
 And wish'd that it were free. 
 
 But why so sad — be hopeful soul ! 
 
 For God, the Great, the Just, 
 Doth Nature and her laws control, 
 
 And only asks thy trust.
 
 30 THE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS. 
 
 In faith confide in His dear Son 
 For pardon, present, free, 
 
 "Who by His death salvation won, 
 To give thee liberty- 
 
 Then meekly at His footstool fall, 
 Claiming the promise sure, 
 
 Despising doubt, in earnest call, 
 And He shall make thee pure. 
 
 Fuse, then, my soul, expand thy wings, 
 
 And upward take thy flight ! 
 Nor halt till Heaven the blessing brings, 
 
 And bathes thee in its light. 
 
 Thus bless'd I'll ever look on high, 
 Where bliss doth perfect reign ; 
 
 And, with a longing heart, I'll try 
 That paradise to gain.
 
 31 
 
 THE LOVED ONE. 
 
 SWEET was each look she kindly gave ; 
 13 ut sweeter to mine ear 
 The kind, endearing words she spoke, 
 
 Which I shall ne'er more hear. 
 Her tongue of angel eloquence 
 
 Seems whispering now to me, 
 Of sunny days and golden hours, 
 And visions light and free. 
 
 The walks we once trip'el o'er in sport 
 
 Are still to mem'ry dear ; 
 The daisy and the butter-cup 
 
 In spring-time flourish there. 
 Such she as tokens gave to me 
 
 Of her sincerity, 
 That now I love them for her sake, 
 
 For she was purity.
 
 12 THE LOVED ONE. 
 
 The singing rill in summer time, 
 
 When fragrant breezes blew, 
 And song-birds gay, in melody, 
 
 Around and o'er us flew. 
 Those days and scenes my heart absorb, 
 
 Though we shall ne'er more meet 
 To sip of pleasure's limpid stream, 
 
 Delicious, bright, and sweet. 
 
 But now she sleeps 'neath the green sward, 
 
 The willow guards her grave ; 
 Her spirit roves 'mid sylvan bowers, 
 
 Where fadeless flow'rets wave. 
 Therefore, though sadness hovers round 
 
 "Where rests her sacred dust, 
 The light of hope I think I see, 
 
 Inspiring heavenly trust.
 
 33 
 CHRISTIAN CONFIDENCE. 
 
 WHEN hope's bright eye cloth dimly shine, 
 And sorrow's clouds draw near ; 
 'Tis then the restless spirit sighs 
 For rest beyond this sphere. 
 
 The prison'd soul then longs to fly 
 
 From such a scene as this, 
 Where disappointment, hate, and strife, 
 
 Ne'er mar the Christian's bliss. 
 
 Yet, still cheer up, desponding soul, — 
 
 God's promises are thine ; 
 And though life's path be dark and drear, 
 
 Bright Mercy's face doth shine. 
 
 A power omnipotent there is, — 
 
 An arm on which to lean ; 
 Christ is that power, the way, the truth, 
 
 "Who hath my Saviour been.
 
 34 CHRISTIAN CONFIDENCE. 
 
 My Saviour, thou art all my hope, 
 
 My only refuge here ; 
 And though a stranger in the world, 
 
 With thee I've nought to fear. 
 
 Thee I can trust, nor dare to doubt 
 That thou wilt faithful prove : 
 
 Thou wilt not leave me in despair, 
 Nor take from me thy love. 
 
 Therefore, I'll bless thy sovVeign name, 
 
 Thy majesty adore, 
 Till death shall close this chequered scene, 
 
 And all with life be o'er.
 
 A FUNERAL HYMN. 
 
 WHY do we mourn and shed the tear 
 Because he's finish'd his career ; 
 His cares and sorrows now have fled, 
 He sleeps in Christ his living Head. 
 
 Nay, we'll rejoice he's reached that shore, 
 Where pain and suffering are no more ; 
 Where love divine lights up each face, 
 Stamp'd by God's saving, sov'reign grace. 
 
 He sings the new and glorious song 
 With martyrs, saints, — the happy throng 
 Who praise the Lamb that gave His life 
 To save the soul from endless strife. 
 
 Praise to God's mercy and His grace, 
 Which makes us pure to see His face ; 
 G ives comfort in our latest breath, 
 And frees us frozn the jaws of death. 
 
 God's ways we ne'er can fathom here, 
 Though strange to mortals may appear ; 
 Y T et He will shew us they were best, 
 When He shall call us into rest. 
 
 F
 
 36 
 AN AUGUST EVENING. 
 
 HOW gaily doth the setting sun 
 Give to each flower a parting ray ; 
 While ev'ning vespers swell around, 
 And Heaven doth smile at close of day. 
 
 Each leaf now seeks the twilight shade, 
 And ev'ry flow'ret breathes forth balm, 
 
 Which languid zephyrs bear away 
 O'er lawn and vale so lovely calm. 
 
 The tinted fields and woodland bowers 
 Are cloth'd in glowing, crimson light ; 
 
 And veteran oaks their arms extend, 
 To shield the closing roses bright. 
 
 Purple clouds, with golden borders, 
 Now float along the western sky ; 
 
 Above, the evening star is seen, 
 Scattering its placid smiles on high.
 
 AN AUGUST EVENING. 37 
 
 O'er misty hills the moon doth peep 
 
 Into the vale in verdure tlrest, 
 Where dewy gems in clusters shine 
 
 Upon the sleeping wild flower's breast. 
 
 A summer calm came o'er my soul, 
 
 For cares and sorrows wing'd their flight ; 
 
 And Heaven above, and earth beneath, 
 Conspired to till me with delight. 
 
 Thus bless"d, I to my cottage hied 
 To hymn a song of sweet delight, 
 
 And worship Him who made the day 
 Glide calmly into silent night.
 
 38 
 
 NEW YEAR'S MUSINGS. 
 
 r\ OD'S blessing clos'd tlie year that's past, 
 VX His mercy tends the new ; 
 Directs Time's silent, onward course, 
 
 And lights life's journey through. 
 His providence has strewn the past 
 
 With mercies, boundless, free, 
 Which claim the homage of our hearts — 
 
 A holy constancy. 
 
 The past year may have borne away 
 
 A parent, friend, or child, 
 Who, gathered to the silent dead, 
 
 Eepose 'neath flow'rets wild ; 
 Still sorrow not, though left behind 
 
 To battle on life's shore, 
 For victory waits the faithful soul, 
 
 And Heaven holds out its store. 
 
 Bless, then, God ! the op'ning year, 
 
 And resignation give, 
 That, 'mid prosperity or woe, 
 
 We may for glory live. 
 So, heavenly Father, we shall be 
 
 The messengers of love, 
 Reflecting on the gloomy world 
 
 A radiance from above,
 
 NEW YEAR'S MUSINGS. 39 
 
 Bless, then, God! our foes and friends, 
 
 And make us one with thee ; 
 Then shall our fellowship on earth 
 
 Be one of unity : 
 And the New Year shall usher in 
 
 Immortal hope and joy, 
 Which shall a holy peace impart, 
 
 And our hest powers employ. 
 
 Heaven's blessing on the coming year, 
 
 For this let angels sue ; 
 Be this the prayer of ev'ry heart — 
 
 The wish of Britons true. 
 A blessing on our land and Queen — 
 
 A blessing on the world ; 
 May the Piedeemer's power extend, 
 
 His banner be unfurl'd.
 
 40 
 A NIGHT IN SUMMER. 
 
 NOW night's fair queen serenely smiles 
 On Nature in repose ; 
 No darkening cloud doth range the skies, 
 No howling tempest blows. 
 
 Now the sad heart is hush'd to rest, 
 
 Each slavish fear is still, 
 And plans which rack'd the soul with care, 
 
 No more the bosom fill. 
 
 A calm serenity invites 
 
 To bowers which thought inspire ; 
 And fancy, with a fairy's touch, 
 
 Doth strike the poet's lyre. 
 
 The west-wind chaunts its ev'ning hymn 
 
 Amid the ivy green ; 
 And star-beams dance upon the stream, 
 
 With flower-clad banks serene.
 
 A NIGHT IN SUMMER. 41 
 
 The ilaisv's golden eve is closed 
 
 To all that's dear around ; 
 The little wren, in woody cell, 
 
 A hermit now is found. 
 
 Pcreh'd on a rocking spray unseen, 
 The nightingale doth sing ; 
 
 And, in the vale, the fleecy flocks 
 Dream of the bliss of Spring. 
 
 '31 id night-shades will I seek repose, 
 
 And sleep my cares away, 
 In hope the smile of Heaven will wake 
 
 For me a brighter day.
 
 \-> 
 
 AUTUMN THOUGHTS. 
 
 SAD, gloomy thoughts do hover round 
 The leaves, now dead and sear ; 
 For Autumn comes with stealthy step, 
 
 And looks which seldom cheer. 
 The howling wind, amidst the bowers, 
 
 Makes melancholy wail ; 
 And scatter'd flow'rets strew the ground, 
 Toss'd by the fitful gale. 
 
 The fields and gardens, once so gay, 
 
 Deserted seem to me ; 
 The pretty song-birds, too, have fled, 
 
 And silent is the bee. 
 The starry sisterhood of flowers, 
 
 A shy but comely race, 
 Now sleep in quiet solitude, 
 
 Blest in their resting-place.
 
 AUTUMN THOUGHTS. 
 
 Once they were rub with perfumes rare, 
 
 Studded with gems of dew ; 
 Which seem'd as mirrors to reflect 
 
 Heaven's flow'ry path of blue : 
 So that frail mortals there might see 
 
 That earth should Heaven pourtray, 
 And that the lowly things around 
 
 Receive God's smiling ray. 
 
 Thus in life's Autumn days may we 
 
 As humble flowers be clad ; 
 And manifest, amid earth's waste, 
 
 The hope our fathers had : 
 That when the chilling winds of death 
 
 Shall on our spirits blow, 
 We may serenely breathe our last, 
 
 As saints did long ago.
 
 THE DISAPPOINTED BACHELOR. 
 
 HOW gay was he in by-gone days, 
 Though now he looks so sad ; 
 Then ladies listen'd to his lays, 
 Which made their hearts so glad. 
 
 So sweet his song, so fair his face, 
 
 Most captivating he ; 
 His youthful heart seeni'd full of grace — 
 
 Of true nobility. 
 
 For years he sought fair woman's gaze, 
 
 Who felt his potent power, 
 And on her pour'd his flippant praise, 
 
 As changing as the hour. 
 
 At length his heart on one was bent, 
 
 More charming than the rest ; 
 Whose eyes, as stars, seem'd sweetly meant 
 
 To shine within his breast. 
 
 So did he love — but, sad to tell, 
 
 Her bosom did not thrill 
 With love's responsive charming spell, 
 
 Which captive held his will :
 
 THE DISAPPOINTED BACHELOR. 
 
 For she, alas ! had hecn deceived 
 By one who faithless prov'd ; 
 
 Whose false pretensions she believed, 
 But found he never lov'd. 
 
 So she resolv'd a maid to live, 
 
 And, as a nun, she swore 
 To man her heart she ne'er would give, 
 
 Nor ever one adore. 
 
 Thus disappointed, so did he 
 
 Bejeet all others' smile ; 
 For none was lovely only she, 
 
 To him in Britain's isle. 
 
 A bachelor he is, I ween — 
 
 And so he will remain, 
 If he persist in needless spleen 
 
 Against the sex who reign. 
 
 Thus does he lead a selfish life, 
 
 A disappointed swain ; 
 The love he scorn'd in early life 
 
 Has prov'd his life's great bane.
 
 4G 
 PRAYER FOE THE ALLIES, 
 
 DURING THE RUSSIAN WAR. 
 
 /~1 OP and guide of Israel's hosts, 
 vX In peril and in fight, 
 
 Succour our vet'rans in this war — 
 Be thou their shield and might. 
 
 Let each heart be true to duty, 
 
 Inspir'd with bravery ; 
 A love of Thee and nature's rights, 
 
 To check vile treachery. 
 
 The Czar's designs, God ! frustrate, 
 
 His icy nature melt ; 
 And may the olive branch of peace 
 
 Soon wave where hate is felt. 
 
 Father of mercies ! bless our land, 
 Her needy children keep ; 
 
 And may thy servants' liberal gifts 
 Bear joy to those who weep.
 
 A PRAYER FOR THE ALLIES j; 
 
 Our nation's gratitude accept, 
 
 And bless Her Majesty : 
 Cement our union with France, 
 
 By pure sincerity. 
 
 And may the nations of the earth, 
 
 Seeing the love we hear, 
 Resolve to strive such love to prove, 
 
 And Peace on earth declare. 
 
 Then shall the happy days arrive — 
 
 By holy men foretold — 
 "When love and peace and righteousness 
 
 Enclose the earth's vast fold. 
 
 War shall then have tied tor ever, 
 Ne'er more to curse the earth ; 
 
 And angel hands with men shall join, 
 In sweetest strains of mirth.
 
 L8 
 
 THE BLIGHTED FLOWER. 
 
 SWEETLY beautiful, at morning hour, 
 Once stood a fair and lovely flower, 
 Encircled by a kindred band 
 That greeted it on ev'ry hand ; 
 But Oh ! ere night had died away, 
 On the green sward it prostrate lay, 
 Uprooted by the ruthless blast 
 That sported with its leaves just cast. 
 
 Yet it gave promise as it stood 
 Secluded 'neath a shady wood — 
 The messenger of joyous spring, 
 Bedecked with richest blossoming — 
 To live awhile near silv'ry stream, 
 And hail at morn the solar beam, 
 While birds their sweetest music made, 
 And praises echoed through the glade.
 
 THE BLIGHTED FLOWER. 
 
 I knew a Maid, as fair a flower 
 
 A> ever graced a woodland bower ; 
 
 In humble cot she did reside — 
 
 The village boast, her mother's pride, 
 
 "Whose heart she cheer'd in life's dark day ; 
 
 Beloved by all who loved Heaven's way — 
 
 For saintly was her life and mien, 
 
 A transcript of a mind serene. 
 
 But blighted 'neath death's stormy sky, 
 When Summer breath'd its last sad sigh, 
 Her spirit soared to climes more bright, 
 Of ceaseless sunshine without night; 
 There, in full bloom, 'neath smiling skies, 
 Near sweeter streams which hush all si*_rhs — 
 Where death and pain shall never come, 
 This is her rest — her endless home.
 
 50 
 MY NATIVE PLACE. 
 
 Oil ! how I wish to see that sacred spot 
 Where Providence did cast my hmnhlc lot, 
 Where heavenly hlcssings round me seem'd to smile, 
 And youthful visions did my hours hcguile ; 
 I love thy image, and nought shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native place. 
 
 Oh ! how I wish to see the flowing Tyne, 
 Its lovely hanks, which round my heart entwine ; 
 O'er which, in pensive wand'rings, I have heen, 
 Courting the muses, near that limpid stream. 
 I love thy image, and nought shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native place. 
 
 O, yes, I wish to see thy churches, too — 
 Those hlessed spots, on which fall heavenly dew — 
 Near which my kindred flesh in silence sleep, 
 And dewdrops o'er their grassy heds do weep. 
 I love thy image, and nought shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native place. 
 
 O, yes, I hope to see thy fields of green, 
 Where sportive lamhkins cheer'd the peaceful scene, 
 And feather'd songsters pip'd their merry lays 
 'Mid forest oaks, the pride of ancient days. 
 I love thy image, and nought shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native place.
 
 MY NATIVE PLA( E. 51 
 
 O. yes, I hope to see the smiling face, 
 Affection's tender lock, and kind embrace 
 Of friends with whom I liv'd in unity, 
 "Who stretch'd to me the hand of charity. 
 
 I love thy image, and nought shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native plac< . 
 
 1 hope to see those friends, more dear to me 
 Than field, or church, or stream can ever be ; 
 Whom I'll remember with my latest breath, 
 And pray for them whilst in the arms of death. 
 I love thy image, and nought shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native place, 
 
 I hope to see friends in yon better land, 
 Who, call'd from earth to join the heavenly band, 
 Now sing, with happy saints and spirits blest, 
 The song of peace and everlasting rest. 
 
 I love thy image, but death shall erase 
 From mem'ry's rosary my native place.
 
 52 
 
 AUTUMN. 
 
 Y 
 
 E clays of gloom, the saddest of the year, 
 When howling winds moan o'er the woodlands 
 
 sere, 
 And heaps of leaves within the groves lie dead, 
 Whilst clouds their sympathetic tears do shed ; 
 And hirds, which sang so merrily and gay, 
 Seem to have fled from wood and field away. 
 
 Where are the summer flowers which lately stood 
 In Sol's bright beams a joyous sisterhood ? 
 Alas ! they sleep in death and take their rest 
 With all the good who in their graves are blest ; 
 And o'er them hangs the willow's drooping head, 
 Which, like an angel, guards their lowly bed. 
 
 The violet fair and brier rose have fled, 
 
 And, like their native sweets, have perished ; 
 
 But on the hill is seen the golden rod, 
 
 And by the brook the sunflower looks to God : 
 
 "Mid autumn tints those wild flowers proudly stand, 
 
 A truly beautiful, but modest band.
 
 AUTUMN. 53 
 
 Autumn hath sunny days — they welcome come ; 
 The humming hee comes from his forest home, 
 Searching for lovely flowers he once did kiss, 
 Roaming near stream and dell for wonted bliss : 
 But ah ! alas ! the winds, with lion's roar, 
 Bore on their wings the flowers which are no more. 
 
 Once there did bloom on earth a fairer flower 
 Than ever deck'd the greenwood's sunny bower ; 
 She tlourish'd as it were a summer's day — 
 Death nipp'd her bud, she droop'd and died away 
 From friends her tender heart was rudely riven, 
 To bloom again a brighter flower in Heaven.
 
 54 
 THE VALE OF TODMORDEN. 
 
 HOW beautiful and fair thou art ! 
 Thy scenery is rare ! 
 Who would not love thy hallow'd shade- 
 Inhale thy bracing air ? 
 
 Thy tow'ring trees, with giant hills, 
 
 In majesty do stand; 
 While on thy banks the roving bees 
 
 Cull sweets on ev'ry hand. 
 
 Thy leafy bowers do echo round 
 
 A choral song of love ; 
 And from thy vernal fields are seen 
 
 The peeping rocks above. 
 
 Thy " Lovers'-walk "—that fam'd retreat, 
 
 Where only Cupid reigns ; 
 Where gentle tales of love are told, 
 
 In soft and sweetest strains. 
 
 Young lovers climb thy craggy heights, 
 
 Nor think the toil severe ; 
 For love gives firmness to their feet, 
 
 And drives away all fear.
 
 THE VALE OF TODMOKDEN. 55 
 
 The Pike of Stoodley rears its head, 
 
 Defiant of the blasl ; 
 Its shadow brings back memories 
 
 Of victories long past. 
 
 Thy churches, too, that modesl seem, 
 
 Are priz'd by youth and age : 
 For round them rest in solitude 
 
 Friends gone from this world's stage. 
 
 The richness of thy scenery 
 
 Gives thee a noble stand : 
 Though Greece may boast as fair a spot, 
 Thine is the fairy land 
 
 Romantic niay'st thou ever be — 
 
 The Vale of Poesy ; 
 Where fancy shall her wings expand, 
 
 And roam for ever free. 
 
 And may prosperity increase, 
 
 Throughout thy lovely glen ; 
 Upheld by men of truth and worth — 
 
 Thy sons, blest Todmorden.
 
 S O N G S .
 
 THE ENAMOURED LOVER. 
 
 T7* ULL often gaze I on thy face, 
 
 -A- And watch each sunny, dancing smile, 
 
 And fondly wish that I could trace 
 
 The thoughts which thy meek heart beguile. 
 
 Thy placid mien, to me most dear, 
 Is sweeter far than tongue can tell ; 
 
 Inspiring bliss my soul to cheer, 
 And binding me with fairy spell. 
 
 Love thee I must the more and more, 
 For virtue o'er thee holds her sway ; 
 
 "While I, enthrall'd, love and adore 
 Thine eyes of truth, bright as the day. 
 
 But, 0, the sweetness of thy voice 
 
 Gives to me a store of pleasure, 
 "Which makes my throbbing heart rejoice — 
 
 That thou ait mine, Oh, priceless treasure !
 
 60 
 THE SriMT OF THE STORM AT SEA. 
 
 M 
 
 Y freedom I boast wherever I roam ; 
 My power I exert o'er the ocean's foam ; 
 The billows I toss as a ball about, 
 And scatter their spray with a demon's shout. 
 'Mid the gloom of the night I call aloud, 
 Dividing at will the black thunder cloud ; 
 Whilst the red lightning I fling in my wrath, 
 As I dance in sport on old ocean's path ; 
 Then the mariner brave is sad with fear, 
 And upward looks for a ray to cheer. 
 But I heed him not as I wildly sing, 
 Proclaiming myself the proud ocean's king ; 
 Whilst onward I go, and destruction cast 
 On the nagging sail and the tow'ring mast, 
 Which round I'll whirl as an eddy on high, 
 Giving a leap with a maniac's cry, 
 As the vessel sinks in her limpid grave, 
 'Mid the coral tombs of the blest and brave. 
 Still onward I'll roam, and hail on yon raft 
 The remaining crew of a shipwreck'd craft, 
 With grim, ghastly looks and skeleton frame, 
 Hunger consuming life's glimmering flame, 
 As they rend the air with a piercing cry 
 For deliverance sweet and help from on high ; 
 But I mock'd their sighs and whistled away,
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE STORM AT SEA. Ql 
 
 And clos'd from their vision hope's faintest ray. 
 Whilst I fly where the ice-bound mountains be, 
 Their fetters I'll snap and bid them go free ; 
 As a well-mann'd bark they shall gaily ride, 
 I'll heap up the waves with a miser's pride 
 Till they scale the heads of the crystal rocks, 
 "Which I'll sever in twain with sudden shocks : 
 Their fragments I'll strew as pearls on the coast, 
 And finish my work with a victor's boast. 
 Rejoice in my power and unbounded might 
 O'er the fish of the sea, its birds of flight, 
 As I dash to my unseen ocean cave, 
 Bedeck'd with the flowers of the dark green wave ; 
 With sceptre in hand I'll sing " I'm free, 
 The fearless, unconquer'd King of the Sea."
 
 62 
 
 SLEEP. 
 
 SLEEP !— for no crystal billow 
 Roams o'er the sea to-night; 
 And the fair moon's soft pillow- 
 Is a bright cloud of light. 
 
 Sleep ! — Nature's in the arms of rest, 
 Each thrilling sound is still, 
 
 Save the throbbing, lonely breast 
 Which sighs against its will. 
 
 Sleep ! — hath not the balmy shower 
 
 Its sorrows wept away, 
 O'er the last drooping flower 
 
 Of the sad autumn day. 
 
 Sleep ! — the merry brook reposeth 
 
 In winter's icy thrall ; 
 And the drear midnight closeth 
 
 In silence deep o'er all. 
 
 Sloop ! then, in the fairy's hour, 
 
 And may thy slumbering 
 Be sweet as the summer flower, 
 
 When dreaming of fair Spring.
 
 63 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN WORKING-MANS SONG. 
 
 EV'NING rays now gild the sky. 
 Upwards lift the heart on high : 
 Swell a grateful parting lay, 
 At the pensive close of clay. 
 When heaven's lights are peering through 
 The clear, dappled, concave blue, 
 Kindling meditation's flame, 
 Then I'll sing my Maker's name ; 
 Who, beyond the starry sky, 
 Greets mv simple melodv : 
 Whilst angelic hosts are near 
 To give comfort, guard and cheer, 
 Bringing blessings on their wings, 
 As they strike their golden strings ; 
 Sweetly swell the song of praise, 
 Chanting heaven's undying lays. 
 Still, though chain'd to care and woe, 
 And a pilgrim here below, 
 Yet, my sorrows soon shall cease, 
 Ev'ry sigh be hush'd in peace ; 
 On that distant blissful shore, 
 Ever calm, and ever blest, 
 This, oh ! this, my home of rest.
 
 64 
 WAKE 
 
 WAKE ! — morn's faint light is beaming 
 Amid the azure plain ; 
 The leaping stream is singing 
 Its morning hymn again. 
 
 Wake ! — now the lark is rising, 
 With pearl-drops on his wing ; 
 
 And the humming bee is wooing 
 The flowers which gently spring. 
 
 Wake ! — Sol's golden tresses now 
 Are flung o'er dale and hill ; 
 
 And the wild flower's velvet brow 
 Kisseth the mountain rill. 
 
 Wake ! — zephyrs now are playing 
 Their leafy harps of green ; 
 
 And birds their young are training 
 To roam o'er forest scene.
 
 WAKE! 65 
 
 Wake ! — the young daisy's peeping 
 
 Out of his fringed cell ; 
 And butterflies are reaping 
 
 The fragrance of the dell. 
 
 Wake ! — day's but a sunny hour, 
 That quickly disappears ; 
 
 And life an ev'ning shower 
 That spends itself in tears.
 
 00 
 
 CONSTANCY. 
 
 YES, there's love in those eyes of light, 
 So sweet each gentle ray, 
 Which, like the sparkling stars of night, 
 
 Do lure, hut not betray. 
 O, then, hide not a beam from rue, 
 For my fond heart heats but for thee. 
 
 Yes, there's love in those cheeks so fair, 
 
 With tints of rosy hues ; 
 They have a spell beyond compare 
 
 When deck'd with love's bright dews. 
 And charming are thy tears to me, 
 Because they speak sincerity. 
 
 There's love and beauty in thy smile, 
 
 Divinely sweet and true ; 
 Thy opening heart is free from guile — 
 
 None other would I woo. 
 Then let me, maiden, claim from thee 
 
 The pledge of love and constancy.
 
 SERENADE. 
 
 COME ! nature wakes from dreaming, 
 With smiling face again ; 
 The trees with birds are singing 
 One harmonious strain. 
 
 one ! dewy dems are rolling 
 Down rosy spring's fair cheefc ; 
 
 And on her breast is sleeping 
 The lovely violet meek. 
 
 < lome ! gentle gales are straying 
 O'er woodland, field, and dell ; 
 
 The merry thrush is piping, 
 Sweet notes his bosom swell. 
 
 Come ! lumbkins now are dancing 
 
 Amid the tinted scene ; 
 And Sol with rays is crowning 
 
 The flow'rets' maiden queen. 
 
 Come ! fair spring shall fade away, 
 When summer's eye doth beam ; 
 
 And autumn's tints decay 
 
 When winter's robes shall gleam.
 
 68 
 A LOVE SONG. 
 
 FLOWER of my bosom ! sweetest maid ! 
 Thy fragrance scents the air ; 
 Nor can a ilowcr, in leafy bower, 
 With thee, my love, compare ! 
 
 The dewy gems of morn are bright, 
 Upon the flow'ret's breast ; 
 
 But brighter are thine eyes of blue, 
 When waking from sweet rest. 
 
 A tinted bloom plays on thy cheek 
 The rose can ne'er impart ! 
 
 Which, shaded by thine auburn locks, 
 Doth captivate my heart. 
 
 The Sultan may his ladies boast, 
 Whose eyes beam light and love ; 
 
 But I am prouder far of thee, 
 For whom my heart doth move.
 
 A LOVE SONG. 69 
 
 Then, lady, as the lily fair, 
 My heart I'll share with thee 
 
 Content I'll he on sea or land, 
 If thou but lovest me. 
 
 O ! give me, then, a maiden's pledge, 
 
 That gem sincerity ; 
 A constant, fixed, unwav'ring mind. 
 
 A heart of purity. 
 
 Then shall my life's stream glide along, 
 
 Lit up -with joy and hope ; 
 And in a sweet embrace as thine, 
 
 Care not for Czar or Pope.
 
 70 
 THE ABSENT LOVE 11. 
 
 How balmy is the ev'ning air 
 
 While Luna beams above, 
 And silence reigneth ev'rywhere — 
 
 It is the time for love. 
 Nature seems peacefully to sleep 
 
 Beneath heaven's vault of blue, 
 And placid is the dark green deep 
 
 Which doth heaven's watchfires woo. 
 
 The wand'ring rill is singing now 
 
 A song unto the flowers, 
 And playful zephyrs kiss my brow 
 
 Amid the waving bowers ; 
 Eemembrance pictures thy sweet face 
 
 With angel-smiles so bright, 
 Which oft with rays hath lit this place, 
 
 And filled me with delight. 
 
 My fancy oft of thee shall dream, 
 
 Though we be far apart, 
 And days bygone shall cast a gleam 
 
 Of hope into my heart. 
 But shouldst thou not to me return, 
 
 My love unchang'd shall be, 
 And, like a lone dove, still shall mourn 
 
 A mate so dear to me.
 
 SONNETS, &C.
 
 TO J. MONTGOMERY, ESQ., 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN POET. 
 
 BLEST sire, farewell ! thy toils on earth are o'er, 
 And now thy lyre is tuned to better strains 
 Of might and majesty to Him who reigns 
 A Saviour, Prince and King, for evermore ; 
 Whose love expansive led thee to adore 
 His grace, which ruled thy heart and stamp'd thy mind 
 "With imagery transcendently refined, 
 
 So that thy soul its lays did sweetly pour, 
 
 Refined with Christian love, unmix'd with self: 
 
 For thou didst keep in view that promis'd land, 
 More precious far than gilded, worldly pelf — 
 The heritage of all the faithful band ; 
 And by thy bright example taught mankind 
 That they are bless'd who heavenly wisdom find.
 
 74 
 
 TO THE LARK. 
 
 SWEET Lark, with thee I rise, and hail thy voice, 
 And, whilst thou in the sunbeams tower'st above, 
 The kindred feelings of my heart rejoice, 
 
 Soaring in spirit to that world of love, 
 
 Where gratitude angelic lyres doth move 
 To strains of melody august in sound, 
 
 Inspired by God's eternal love profound. 
 Sweet bird, thou usher'st in the spring's gay flower, 
 Content to roam amid heaven's blue expanse, 
 
 Or drink the dews within thy grassy bower, 
 Whilst, breathing fragrance in the sunlight hour, 
 
 Thou court'st rich summer in her bright advance : 
 So shall my fancy ever love to dwell 
 On scenes thou charmest with a heavenly spell.
 
 i a 
 
 TO HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 
 
 FAREWELL ! bright spirit of immortal worth, — 
 Who could not love the place that gave thee birth, 
 Or pensive wander near the glassy Trent, 
 Musing upon the hours that thou hast spent 
 Beneath the trees in Clifton's hallow'd shades, 
 Where still wild flow'rets hloom, and grassy blades, 
 Like hostile spears, still seem to guard that grove 
 Which to poetic strains thy lyre did move ? 
 Corroding cares no longer rack thy breast ; 
 Peace to thy ashes ! blessings on thee rest ! 
 Death claim'd thee as his victim in thy bloom, 
 Gath'ring thy half-blown blossoms for the tomb ! 
 Upon that hallow'd spot I'll drop a tear ; 
 With pious care I'll tend the flowers that rear 
 Their slender stalks upon thy lowly bed, 
 And sip the dewdrops glitt'ring o'er thy head : 
 Oh ! might to me descend the poet's lyre 
 Thou didst with rich and tender tones inspire, 
 Then would I chant a requiem over thee ; 
 So wildly sweet its plaintive notes should be 
 That ev'ry heart should join my mournful lays, 
 And, long as genius lives, proclaim thy praise.
 
 AN INFANT. 
 
 HOW fair and beautiful ! no grief she knows 
 With smiling eyes upon her mother's breast ; 
 While love and innocence light up her eyes, 
 
 Which, bright as daylight, with the daylight close. 
 The prattling tongue, the slender limbs, now rest 
 
 From infant toils, while peacefully she lies 
 Upon those arms more soft than downy bed, 
 
 Which guard from danger while she sleeps her fill. 
 Fair flower ! soon may life's gloom be o'er thee spread: 
 
 Kude disappointment's winds thy spirit chill, 
 Or anxious fears disturb thee in the night, 
 
 When sorrow doth her midnight vigils keep ; 
 Then may thy hope be fix'd where nought shall blight, 
 
 Nor death nor sin pollute, to make thee weep.
 
 77 
 
 TO WILLIAM COWPER, 
 
 THE POET. 
 
 EXTENDED sympathies were thine, sweet bard, 
 Of heavenly origin magnificent ; 
 Which formed thy nature's holy element, 
 Inspired thy soul the truth of right to guard — 
 "Which claim for white and black the due reward 
 That Heaven's munificence hath given to all — 
 Which scorns the tyrant who would dare enthrall 
 The humblest soul that treads the grassy sward, 
 Or climbs the mountain heights where freedom waves 
 Her royal sceptre for the truth's sweet sake : 
 For thou didst love thy kind, and strove to wake 
 With plaintive lays a sympathy for slaves, 
 Which Britain echo'd o'er the trackless main, 
 Till Afric's sons sang freedom's joyous strain.
 
 78 
 
 TO THE OCEAN. 
 
 HOW vast and beautiful thou art, when gay ! 
 Thy silver-crested waves do gently rise 
 "When Heaven's bright smile beams o'er unclouded 
 shies, 
 
 And sea-birds scatter with their wings thy spray. 
 Thus lovely thou lay stretched before mine eyes, 
 
 When first I gazed upon thy trackless way ; 
 But Ob, since then rude gales have borne the sighs 
 
 Of shipwrecked souls who sank beneath thy sway ! 
 'Mong whom were friends to my sad heart most dear, 
 
 Who now sleep in thy coral beds of rest. 
 Great deep ! how terrible thou dost appear, 
 
 When strength omnipotent doth swell thy breast, 
 And thy stern billows do with madness leap ; 
 
 Then mothers sigh, and wives in sorrow weep.
 
 79 
 
 TO THE MOON. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL orb ! amid the starry throng, 
 Robed in magnificence, thou reign'st as Queen ; 
 Pouring o'er night's soft breast bright rays serene, 
 
 While Philomela sings her plaintive song. 
 Night's gem to the enchantment doth belong 
 
 Which calms the wayward billows of the breast, 
 Soothing with friendly smiles stern cares to rest, 
 
 Or points the downcast eye to Heaven's blest 
 throng, 
 Immaculate and pure beyond the sky. 
 
 Whilst thus I gaze on thy celestial sphere, 
 My soul, with outstretch'd pinions, fain would fly 
 
 To that blest land where night shall ne'er appear, 
 Nor clouds of darkness e'er obscure the light 
 
 Of those Elysian bowers, divinely bright.
 
 80 
 
 TO MAY. 
 
 THOU bride of summer mild, thou'rt come again, 
 With gentle step and voice beyond compare, 
 Crowning with sunny flowers both hill and plain, 
 
 Gladdening the earth with beauty rich and fair ; 
 Whilst singing streams flow joyous on their way, 
 
 Keflecting back thy smiles of softness bright. 
 Thus my enraptured mind in active play 
 
 E'er views thy flowery path with fresh delight, 
 And loves to revel in thy sunlit bowers, 
 
 'Mid feathcr'd choristers and choice perfumes ; 
 Where thy enchanting eye doth charm love's hours — ■. 
 
 The silent meadow paths and vernal glooms — 
 Till contemplation bears my thoughts above, 
 Where brighter flowers than May's demand my love.
 
 81 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 TIS true ; it must be so ! We meet on earth 
 And know how bitter and how sad to part 
 
 From those who were entwin'd around our heart ; 
 "Who lov'd and clung to us from early birth, 
 And, by their sunny looks and joyous mirth, 
 
 Op'd within our breast a fount of pleasure ; 
 
 Till every pulse, in harmonious measure, 
 Beat high, whilst seated round the shining hearth. 
 Oh, she is gone ! the lovely and the fair, 
 
 Whose graceful form and purity, I ween, 
 
 Rife with enchantment as the Fairy Queen, 
 Seem'd to unfold her graceful beauty rare, 
 
 Until the midnight shadows of the tomb 
 
 Enclos'd her in its cold and cheerless womb.
 
 82 
 
 S 
 
 ADAM AND EYE IN PARADISE. 
 
 WEET was Eve's angel face and beaming eye, 
 Which gave to nature charms, and round her 
 wrought 
 
 A sympathetic wreath of purest thought, 
 
 'Mid Eden's temple of pure sanctity. 
 
 Angels, entranc'd, look'd from the realms on high ; 
 
 Heaven hlaz'd with lustre, whilst their gladsome feet 
 
 Were bent tow'rds that fair spot with blessings sweet ; 
 
 And radiant love beam'd forth with charity. 
 
 Such was the light which shone on leaf and flower, 
 
 In sinless Eden, when the first bless'd pair 
 
 (In unity with God, held converse there, 
 
 Eoaming near glassy stream and greenwood bower, 
 
 Or, 'neath the moon's pale beam, in silence stood) 
 
 Worship'd that God who saw all things were good.
 
 83 
 
 DECEMBER, 
 
 THE year, 'mid solemn silence, seems to close ; 
 The woods once gay are now with gloom o'ercast, 
 
 And, 'mid the naked bowers, sighs the rude Mast — 
 A token of some early fall of snow, 
 To cheer the earth and hide the faded rose, 
 
 Which deck'd the garden-walk — now prostrate cast, 
 
 And buried 'neath the sear leaves of the past, 
 That fell when autumn winds did wildly blow, 
 
 'Mid the chilly sunshine of some wild day. 
 The stagnant pools look gloomy as they shine, 
 
 While clust'ring leaves obstruct the winding way 
 Of lazy streams, which no deep banks define ; 
 
 And the gaunt trees, to stormy winds a prey, 
 
 Sing melancholy music as they sway.
 
 84 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN SUET-HERD'S CHILD. 
 
 NEAR a bleak mountain wild, 
 There dwelt a shepherd's child ; 
 Blithe as the lark at morn — 
 A brisker child ne'er born. 
 
 His home a gloomy spot, 
 Few comforts bless'd his lot, 
 And all around was drear ; 
 Yet he was happy there. 
 
 He had a rustic air, 
 But lov'd the wild flower fair, 
 Which smil'd in his bright face 
 With modest, loving grace : 
 
 So, when the days were long, 
 Rambling 'mid flow'ry throng, 
 He sung, in merry glee, 
 " I love the mountains free."
 
 85 
 
 As thus he went along, 
 The wild birds sweetly sung 
 The cooing turtle dove 
 Piped his note of love ; 
 
 The blackbird and the thrush, 
 Perch'd on the hawthorn bush, 
 Their notes so sweet and shrill, 
 Echo'd from hill to hill ; 
 
 And the lark, rising high 
 In the bright sunny sky, 
 To his sweet mate did sing, 
 Making the welkin ring. 
 
 So did he feel right glad ; 
 His buoyant miud, ne'er sad, 
 Joined with bird and bee 
 In sweetest melody. 
 
 Rambling o'er heather green 
 Iii quest of moths just seen, 
 He tried to gain a prize 
 Of varied hue and size :
 
 86 
 
 And, when a prize he'd snar'd, 
 Home quickly he repair'd, 
 To place in safety there 
 The tiny insect rare. 
 
 Oft hy his father's side 
 He to the mountain hied, 
 And willing help did lend 
 The grazing flocks to tend ; 
 
 Or, with the sheep-dog play'd, 
 As on the sward they laid, 
 In careless, sportive joy, 
 Unmix'd with life's alloy. 
 
 While sunny days did last, 
 Unruffl'd by the blast, 
 He, as a bird was free — 
 Joyful in liberty : 
 
 But, as the year roll'd on, 
 The sun more dimly shone ; 
 The flowers were sad around, 
 Mourning with grief profound ;
 
 8T 
 
 For Autumn winds, so shrill, 
 
 Came with resistless will 
 And pluck'd the flowers away, 
 "Which sicken'd in a day. 
 
 Close follow'd Winter grim, 
 With iron hand and limb ; 
 Swaying his icy chain — 
 Proclaiming he would reign. 
 
 Then came hail, sleet, and snow, 
 Shrouding the flowers laid low ; 
 Which slept in quietude, 
 'Mid mountain solitude. 
 
 Such was the day when he, 
 The child of liberty, 
 Went o'er the mountain track- 
 Witli wallet on his back — 
 
 In search of fleecy sheep, 
 Perchance then buried deep 
 Far distant o'er the waste — 
 To rescue them made haste.
 
 88 
 
 The wind with fury hlcw, 
 The cold excessive grew ; 
 The snow fell thick and fast, 
 As howling swept the hlast. 
 
 Darkness set in full soon, 
 No light of star or moon 
 Did cheer the mountain hoy — 
 Nor hope impart its joy. 
 
 He climh'd from steep to steep, 
 In search of sire and sheep ; 
 But, hy the tempest tost, 
 At length his way he lost. 
 
 Sad soon his mother grew, 
 Who, with a love most true, 
 Sigh'd for her child's return, 
 And felt now most forlorn ; 
 
 Her heart it throhh'd with fear, 
 While down her cheek the tear — 
 Expressive of her grief — 
 Flow'd on without relief;
 
 89 
 
 And, frantic with despair, 
 Exclaimed, " Where, oh ! where 
 Is my poor mountain hoy — 
 My comfort and my joy ? " 
 
 But oh ! his gladsome voice 
 Shall her no more rejoice, 
 "While seated hy the fire — 
 The enihlem of his sire : 
 
 For, 'mid the tempest's wrath, 
 He, on his dreary path, 
 Exhausted, fell to die — 
 Unheard his wailing cry ! 
 
 Oh ! who can tell his tears — 
 The anxious hopes and fears — 
 Which his young hosom rent, 
 As his frail strength was spent. 
 
 Whilst, in a dismal wail, 
 His accents on the gale 
 Bore witness to his fate — 
 Alas ! help came too late.
 
 90 
 
 At length the boy was found, 
 Fast to the crystal ground ; 
 As morn, with cold grey eye, 
 Lighted the frowning sky. 
 
 In sweet but lonely glade, 
 
 The poor boy's grave was made ; 
 
 And there his ashes rest, 
 
 With wild flowers o'er his breast. 
 
 Yet, still, 'tis said his cry 
 Is heard when wild winds sigh, 
 So piercing and so shrill, 
 Near to Ben Lomond hill. 
 
 THE END.
 
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