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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11564-0.txt b/11564-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dbe525e --- /dev/null +++ b/11564-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2223 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11564 *** + +AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; + +HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; + +THE CULPRIT, AN ELEGY; + +AND + +OTHER POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS: + +BY + +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD. + +1803. + + * * * * * + +[Transcriber's Note: The page headers in the original text contained +one-line summaries of what appears on that page within each poem. Due to +the difficulty of interleaving these lines without completely disrupting +the flow of the poetry, they have been collected and placed in a single +square-bracketed paragraph at the start of each poem, and separated by +em-dashes.] + + * * * * * + + + + +PREFACE. + + * * * * * + +Whoever has read the Preface to the FARMER'S BOY will hardly fail of +recollecting the Name of NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD; the Author of the POEMS +here offer'd to The Public. + +It will be recollected that he there appears, with his Brother GEORGE +BLOOMFIELD, standing in the place of the Father, whom they had early +lost, to their younger Brother ROBERT. + +It is natural to suppose that this brotherly interference, and it's +consequences, greatly and advantageously influenc'd the dispositions, +pursuits, and habits of thought and conduct, of all three of the +Brothers.--And it is the more exemplary when it is consider'd how young +the two eldest were at that time. + +It is an encouraging instance how much may be effected for each other +by the poor and uneducated, if they have prudence, activity, and kind +affections; and how unexpectedly, and to an extent far beyond apparent +probability, success is given by Providence to virtuous and benevolent +efforts. + +Beyond question, the Brothers of this Family are all extraordinary Men: +and perhaps every one of them is more so than he would have been without +the fraternal concord which has animated them all, and multiplied the +powers of all by union and sympathy. + +Of NATHANIEL, as of ROBERT, my Account shall be taken from +communications by Letter, made at my request by Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD. + +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was born 23d Feb.[1] 1759. + +He was the 3d Child and 2d Son of GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, of Honington: and +was deprived of his Father, by the Small-pox, when he was eight years +old. Like ROBERT, he learnt to read and write of his MOTHER: and had, +like him, his farther instructions in Writing, and was taught the +first Rules of Arithmetic, by Mr. RODWELL, of Ixworth[2]: where also +he seems to have had some instruction in Grammar. But his Mother being +then a widow, his Grandfather (Mr. ROBIN MANBY) kindly bound him +Apprentice to Mr. HAYLETT, a Tailor of Market-Harling: of which +business the Father of the BLOOMFIELDS had been. + +He was here very kindly treated: and was found to be an excellent +Apprentice. + +While here he learnt Church Music, (one of the great consolations of +energetic and pensive minds) and sung in a company which was conducted +by Mr. SYDER. But when his voice broke, he could make no figure among +them: for it was not only a Bass of extremely narrow compass, but weak +and tremulous. + +This latter defect of voice was observ'd in THOMSON: and perhaps it may +arise sometimes not from a fault in the natural quality of the voice, +but from exceeding sensibility to Poetry and Music. + +When about 16 or 17 years of age he entered with the fervor of a +vigorous and thoughtful mind into the study of Religion, on the +principles of the Church of England: and added to his study of it +what is the great end, the practice of Religion as a rule of conduct +and life. + +At a stall at Harling Fair he met with a Practical Catechism: the +Author's name, PRATT: and at the same time he made the acquisition of a +large volume of TILLOTSON'S Sermons. Probably the Folio Edition of the +Sermons of that excellent Man and Writer: so distinguish'd by his +Piety, uniform, mild, and rational; the morality of his excellent +Discourses; their simplicity and clearness; and the sweetness and +persuasiveness of manner. These, and other religious Tracts, he bought: +and "the last" (Tillotson) "he lent," says Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, "to +me. I receiv'd many excellent Letters from him on that subject: and they +had greater weight on my mind than if they had been written by an elder +hand." + +When his Apprenticeship expir'd he came to LONDON: and expected to +find his Brother GEORGE there. But GEORGE had taken a trip, "or tramp, +as it is called," into Kent. They however soon met in LONDON: "and +there never lived" (adds GEORGE) "a more pleasant acquaintance than +he prov'd." + +It was some years before he could procure work in LONDON sufficient to +support him through the dead Months. He us'd therefore, when he found +trade dull in Town, to go into the Country. + +And thus, while at Woolwich, he became acquainted with CHARLOTTE +NOBLE, whom he MARRIED 4th March, 1787; he being then in his 28th, and +she in her 17th year. Her Mother was a Widow: who kept a small General +Shop. Her Brother-in-law GEORGE, in speaking of this union, says, "There +perhaps never liv'd a Woman who possess'd a better temper: and he has, +though very poor, been exceedingly happy." For myself, I wish, in +transcribing this account, that those who think riches so essential to +happiness that they will take no step in life, nor suffer their hearts +or their understandings to have any influence with them, if the +acquisition of riches seems likely to be delayed or endanger'd, would +consider that the Family of the BLOOMFIELDS has been happy, and has +excell'd, upon very different principles. And if we would compare the +thousands in every situation of Life to whom what is called prosperity +is a snare, a burthen and a curse, with those who are happy with mere +necessaries, and those with difficulty obtain'd; ... happy by their +Affections and their Virtues; by improv'd and generous and tender +Feelings; by Hope amid difficulties, and Confidence in Heaven amid +trials and distresses, ... it might be seen and felt that there is more +of folly in the wisdom of the world, than those who place Wisdom in +the accumulation of superfluities, to the neglect of the most natural +Blessings, and often in violation of the clearest Duties, either of +Justice or of Benevolence, may be willing to acknowledge. + +He has two Children living:--ELIZABETH; born 11th Jul. 1789; GEORGE; +4th Febr. 1797. "He lost," adds his Brother, "two sweet Boys: who both +died within a few days of each other, by that dreadful disease the +SMALL-POX;" which, while this Preface was in the Press, has been fatal +to another promising Child, THOMAS; born Aug. 1799. The Father, +oppress'd with grief, reproaches himself for not having inoculated this +Child with the Small-Pox. But when it is consider'd how formidable, +after two such Losses, the SMALL-POX in any form must appear to +affectionate Parents, I think it will be evident that he is too severe +to himself in this reproach. The inoculated SMALL-POX is sometimes +fatal: had he inoculated the Child he would have reproach'd himself, +and still with more feeling than justice, for so doing. + +He had read but little Poetry when he came to LONDON: but he had not +been long there before he was struck, looking, as was his custom, at +Books on a stall, with the Title of NIGHT THOUGHTS. "He had never heard +of it before: but it's name was an irresistible charm to his melancholy, +enquiring mind. This has been ever his favourite Book. He would have +bought it had it been double the price. And as he possesses an +uncommonly retentive memory, he us'd to repeat great part of it by +rote in his walks with his Brothers. He afterwards read MILTON." + +Such a Memory, and the study of two such Authors with poetic enthusiasm, +may in part account for what exceedingly surpriz'd me in reading the +MSS. of THE ESSAY ON WAR:--a greater mastery in the mechanism, and +greater power of numbers, than I should have almost thought possible +in the first attempt in BLANK VERSE; even to a person of the best +education. + +He read too, GOLDSMITH and FIELDING. And he added to these some of our +English Poets as they fell in his way. Among these THOMSON could hardly +fail to be: but Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD remarks, "he never was so struck with +THOMSON as I should have expected." + +While single, he made it the amusement of his evenings to read +_Entick's Dictionary_, and write down every word of which he wish'd to +remember the spelling or the meaning. He has often said that since his +buying of the Sermons in his early youth, he had never bought for his +own reading any but poetical Books: and when he could get hold of any +miscellaneous Book, he read first the Poetry, and after look'd at no +other part. + +With this turn of Mind and habit of reading, that he has through Life +indulg'd in poetical effusions will be no matter of surprize. But be has +more than once said to his Brother GEORGE in Letters, that it was the +success of ROBERT that encouraged him to attempt an _Essay on War:_ a +subject on which he had occupied his thoughts a great length of time. + +"I remember," says his Brother, "nothing particular of his infancy: +except the great share of bashfulness (or, as a Philosopher perhaps +would say, pride) which he possess'd in common with the rest of the +Family.... Exceedingly mild in his temper and kind to his play-mates, +he was very apt in learning." + +For the last 15 years his own Account is that he has certainty read +but little: his Family having claim'd his utmost exertions; and his +business allowing little leisure. And what leisure he had being +generally employed in walking with his Children. Untill last Summer he +was a Journeyman Tailor: but has since been a MASTER in a small way. +If therefore he appears to possess any knowledge of a litterary nature, +it must be all from the stores of Memory. + +He at present lives at No. 19, Dagget Court, Broker Row, Moorfields, +London. He is (says Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD) about 5F. 3I. high[3]: of a dark +complexion, and dark gray eyes: he has lost the hair from the top of +his head, which gives him the appearance of Age. Though remarkable for +talking little, so as to have the name of a man of few words, he is, +on occasion, a chearful companion: and though generally pensive and +melancholy, ever kind-hearted. + +"As a Husband and Father, his character is certainly exemplary. And few +men pass through Life so smoothly. Though commonly working with a number +of shop-mates, he has such a philosophical command of temper, that he +never disputes; nor concerns himself with the disputes of others, unless +they refer to him for a decision." + +Thus far the Account by his Brother: who had observ'd in a former +Letter, that with respect to Temper, what he should otherwise have to +speak of NATHANIEL, he had in a great measure said already of ROBERT. +Such a coincidence in mild and simple manners, amiable and good +disposition, is pleasing to remark any where: and additionally so when +it relates to Men who have each original and characteristic Genius; and +when the testimony is given by a Brother so capable of judging, and who +has had such continued experience from their very early Life, of the +Disposition and Character of both. + +Having spoken thus far of the AUTHOR, from the best authority, it +remains for me to say something briefly of these his WORKS. + + * * * * * + +Early in the Spring of 1801, I saw in MSS. HONINGTON-GREEN, and the +ESSAY ON WAR[4]. I communicated them to Mr. GEDGE, Printer, of BURY; +who had been a zealous and active Friend to THE FARMER'S BOY: on reading +them, he wanted no time for deliberation, but offer'd at once to print +them for the benefit of the Author, at his own risque. I had known his +accuracy as a Printer: of which, and of neat Typography, I flatter +myself this Publication will be a proof. I had no difficulty to adopt +the proposal: and gladly offer'd, on my part, what little preparation +(very little indeed it was) might be necessary of the MSS. for the +Press; (or rather in it's progress through it); and to revise and +correct the Proofs. + +My province has been quite of a similar kind in this instance as it +was in that of Mr. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD: little corrections, in point +of Orthography; and still fewer of Grammar: sometimes of Diction; and +sometimes of Versification. For some of the best of these emendations +I have been indebted to one, in mentioning of whom I should have had +an affectionate Pride: and have more in that Modesty which forbids the +mention. They are, as I have said, few of any kind: For of emendations I +have been anxiously sparing. Little was requisite: and more than was so +would have been blameable. I rely on the original MSS. being preserv'd: +which on this, as on the former occasion, will speak for itself. + +I have said what I thought of THE FARMER'S BOY. It is a truely +agricultural Poem: it's originality and vivid representation of +immediate Nature manifest themselves in the whole Design, and in every +page. It will live with the works of HESIOD and THEOCRITUS; of VIRGIL +and THOMSON. I was nearly as much assur'd of this from the first, and so +express'd myself, as the event could assure me. I will now say with the +same freedom what I think of the ESSAY ON WAR. + +I regard it as a Poem of extraordinary vigor and originality: in +Thought, Plan, Conduct, Language, and Versification. I think it has much +indeed of the philosophic character, poetic spirit, force of coloring, +energy and pathos, which distinguish LUCRETIUS. Of the justness and +spirit of the VERSIFICATION I have already spoken. + +The PRINCIPLE of the ESSAY ON WAR appears to me, I will own, more +paradoxical than I should think, to judge from their conduct, it can +appear to the ruling part at least of Mankind in general. I indulge the +hope and expectation that WAR shall one day be universally and finally +extinguish'd. But I will confess also, that appearances would tempt us +to apprehend that day is far distant. And while we make War for Sport on +useful, generous, inoffensive Animals, it is not easy to imagine that we +shall cease to make War on one another. + +But whether the Principle of the Poem be well or ill-founded, I can +hardly imagine any abstract proposition to be more poetically, more +forcibly, or more comprehensively maintain'd. And I am either ignorant +wherein Genius consists, or it is manifest in the Idea, the Style and +Numbers, the Design and Conduct of this Poem. + +Of HONINGTON GREEN I am to speak next. And here it may be right to +obviate some prejudice against the Poem, which, in the minds of several, +may arise from the subject. I am not an Enemy to Enclosures: if the +RIGHTS and INTERESTS of the POOR, and of SMALL OWNERS, be very carefully +guarded, an ENCLOSURE may be a common Benefit. However, it is very +liable to become otherwise. But be an Enclosure good or bad, (and every +Man has a right to his opinion, and to support it by argument, on this +subject and every other) there are particular circumstances and +considerations which stand clear of the scope of the general question. +The Spot which is the subject of the Ballad is less, I believe, than +Half an Acre. It did certainly ornament the Village; independent of a +just and laudable partiality in the Author. Thus it would have seem'd to +the casual glance of a stranger. To the BLOOMFIELDS every circumstance +gave it peculiar endearment. There the Author of 'THE FARMER'S BOY,' and +of these POEMS, first drew breath. There grew the first Daisies which +their feet pressed in childhood. On this little Green their Parents +look'd with delight: and the Children caught the affection; and learn'd +to love it as soon as they lov'd any thing. By it's smallness and it's +situation it was no object: and could have been left out of Enclosure +without detriment to the General Plan, or to any individual Interest. +I wish it had: and most who love Poetry, and respect Genius, and are +anxious to preserve the little innocent Gratifications of the Poor, +will have the same wish. + +As a poetical effusion, it strikes me that it has the tone, simplicity, +and sweetness, and pleasing Melancholy of the Ballad. There is a stroke +or two of indignant severity: but the general character is such as I +have describ'd. And with filial Gratitude and Love there is blended, +in the close, that turn for Reflection which is so remarkable in this +Author.... I wish'd and recommended that some at least of the ornaments +of 'THE FARMER'S BOY' should be sketches of local scenery: knowing +how much more interesting they would have been, and how much more +appropriate to the Poem. In that recommendation I was not successful: +but I am glad, in this instance, to see a faithful and agreeable Sketch +of Honington-Green from a very young pencil[5]. It will be remember'd, +at a far remote Period, that the double Cottage at the end of the Green +was the Birth-place of the BLOOMFIELDS. It is still, (and may it yet be +long so) the habitation of their Mother: and has been repair'd lately +by ROBERT. And I much doubt whether any House or Green will see two such +Poets born of the same Parents. + +THE CULPRIT is the next in this Collection, and I had not seen it, nor +was it written, when I saw the two first. They decided my Opinion; and +had no more appeared, they would have been publish'd alone; as they +abundantly deserved. + +THE CULPRIT strikes me as an original and highly affecting Poem. The +very attempt to sketch the successive conflicting feelings of one thus +circumstanc'd is no common effort. And what compass of thought; what +energy of expression! ... I do not always admit the justness of the +arguments. But it is a Soliloquy in character: and in judging of it, +as in all pieces of representative Poetry (as Mr. DYER, in his lately +publish'd ESSAY has well term'd it) the imagin'd situation ought to be +consider'd. And it strikes me as closing with a true and aweful Pathos: +not often equall'd. + +The YORKSHIRE DIP is, I think, the result of that active but melancholy +Fancy, which can travel far into views of Life and Nature from a slight +occasion. It has a mixture of the Sportive which deepens the impression +of it's melancholy Close. I could have wish'd, as I have said in a short +Note, the Conclusion had been otherwise. The sours of Life less offend +my Taste than its sweets delight it. But when I think what NATHANIEL +must have felt in passing through Life, I more respect the Chearfulness +and habitual Vigor of his Mind, than I am dispos'd to be out of humor +with occasional gloom. + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH differs as much in manner as in subject from those which +precede it. Yet a vein of pensive and philosophic thought flows here +also. The SONG OF BALDWIN is well adapted to soothe the fears and the +discontents of Poverty: and to convince those who have not learnt it, +that wealth, and rank, and power, and unlimited indulgence, are not such +Blessings as they are imagin'd to be at a distance: nor Poverty such an +Evil, that the first and best Blessings of Nature should be therefore +thrown aside in despair. + +I may doubt on the expediency of the SONG OF BALDWIN being in a +different measure; but I can not doubt of the general merit of the Poem. + +The PROVERBS, like other compositions of this kind, must rest chiefly on +their moral Justness, Utility, Simplicity, and Conciseness, rather than +on poetic Excellence: though neither in form nor coloring are they +deficient of that compos'd and grave Beauty which the Nature of the +Subject and Composition admits. + +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE contains the Principle of the ESSAY ON WAR, and of +a celebrated ESSAY ON POPULATION, which I dare say the Author never saw. +It is strong, characteristic; and original: and although in the measure +of the humorous Ballad, has much nerve and energy[6]. + +I have now a Remark to make which relates generally to the +Versification. We may observe of HONINGTON GREEN, and most of the Poems +in rhyme in this Collection, that they are strongly accentuated: and if +red with a close attention to accent and emphasis, the rhythm is musical +and energetic; where to a careless Reader it might appear harsh and +untuneable. + +The LYRIC ELEGY which concludes this little Collection is, I think, +animated and pathetic in no common degree. On the Merits of VACCINE +INOCULATION I do not think myself qualify'd to offer an opinion. Great +Doubts have been entertain'd concerning it by medical Men of Abilities +and Experience. Objections apparently strong were urg'd; and of various +kinds. At present it has had Declarations in it's favor from among the +most distinguish'd of it's Opposers. And it seems to have little short +of a general reception in the medical World.... Time and Experience, +the great Test of Truth in such instances, must determine for or against +it. But, important as the Question is, poetical Merit is comparatively +independent on the correctness of a philosophic System or Hypothesis. +And reflecting on his former Losses and present Calamities, the Author +could not but feel a deep Interest in whatever seem'd likely to obviate +such an Evil to others. + +I have observ'd some rather striking coincidences with VIRGIL and +LUCRETIUS. I might have pointed out more; and to other classic +Authors. But I should have extended this Preface too far. At the same +time, such a concurrence in the Sentiments and Expressions of Genius in +very distant Ages, and under widely different Circumstances, is always +interesting, even where it can be resolv'd with Certainty, or +Probability, into IMITATION: and much more so, when, as in these Poems, +it is certain that it CAN NOT. + +I have very few Words more to say in presenting this little Volume to +the PUBLIC. Specimens they will find in it of such different kinds of +Composition, as the same individual rarely can attempt with success. Yet +through great diversity of Style, Dissimilarity of Measure, and Variety +of Sentiment and Subject, may be seen the same Mind: and Traces of the +same Manner, and that manner peculiarly characteristic...a mixture of +contemplative equanimity, of incidental gleams of vivacity; of energy +frequently pathetic, sometimes sarcastic, and not seldom sublime. And we +have here an additional proof, that a true poetic Spirit, in whatever +Breast it inhabits, will create Thoughts, Language, and Numbers, worthy +of the Muse, however unfavourable the occupation and habits of Life. + +Mr. NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was not without his fears, however, lest it +should be thought, that, although THE MUSE can visit a SHEPHERD'S BOY, +there may be some employments which exclude her influence. That a TAYLOR +should be a POET, he doubted, might appear too startling an Assertion. +And he had said accordingly to his Brother GEORGE, in a Letter, when +this Publication was first going to Press, "I want you to exclude the +word _Taylor_. Let there be no such Word in the Book. But perhaps I am +too late. I know there is in the public Mind as great contempt for him +who bears the appellation of _Taylor_, as STERNE has made old SHANDY +have for SIMKIN, NECKEY, or TRISTRAM. How many CAESARS and POMPEYS, says +he, by mere inspiration of the names, have been rendered worthy of them? +And how many are there who might have done exceedingly well in the +World, had not their Characters and Spirits been totally depress'd and +Nicodemiz'd; and I will add (says Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD) taylor'd into +nothing? In the REHEARSAL, the Author, to make the most ridiculous +part of it still more ridiculous, tells us, that it was written to a +Taylor, and by a Taylor's Wife. And even the discerning SPECTATOR +has given into this common-place raillery in the Monkey's Letter to her +Mistress. He has made the Soul which inhabited Pug's Body, in recounting +the humiliating State it had formerly been in, say, that he had been a +Taylor, a Shrimp, and a Tom-tit. It is from these causes, as well as +from the habits and appearance contracted by a recluse and sedentary +Life, that, in the enlighten'd, as well as the ignorant, the ideas of +Taylor and Insignificance are inseparably link'd together." + +I prevail'd, notwithstanding, that this word, whose anti-poetic +influence is so dreaded, should be in the Book. About half a Century +ago, there seem'd a degree of incredulity as to the possibility of +Courage in a Taylor. ELLIOT'S LIGHT HORSE, at that time compos'd of +Taylor-Volunteers. effectually overcame that prejudice. It remain'd +to dissolve another still more irrational prepossession, that a Taylor +cannot be a Poet. And this Volume will be a victorious Host against an +Army of such Prejudices. Indeed the Force is greater than such a Combat +requires: for stubborn as other Prejudices may still be, our litterary +Prejudices have, in this Age, been rapidly giving way to Candour, +Reason, Common-Sense, and the Evidence of Fact. We have long known that +a Scotch Plough-Boy and a Milk-Woman[7] could still be Poets of high +and almost singular Excellence. And if Improbability were any thing +against Fact, it would be far more improbable, that two Brothers should +be such Poets as ROBERT and NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD are, than that a Taylor +should be a Poet. It remains then for Prejudice to vanish like Mists +before the Sun: while the two BROTHERS sociably ascend PARNASSUS +together; higher than ever Brothers have climbed before: I might add, +each of them to an height which but few have ever reach'd[8]. + +CAPEL LOFFT. + +Troston-Hall, 2 Jan: 1803. + + +[Footnote 1: I had said, and certainly upon full authority, 23rd April; +which the Author his-self believ'd to be the Day: and had remarked +accordingly it was a Day distinguish'd by the Birth and Death +of SHAKESPERE. But Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD discover'd and immediately +communicated the mistake as to the Day. Thus we lose an interesting +coincidence: but we gain what is of greater value; a just and prompt +sacrifice to truth and candor. C.L.] + +[Footnote 2: Who is mention'd in the Preface to the Farmer's Boy. +C.L.] + +[Footnote 3: If "_True natural Greatness all consists in height_," the +Family of the _Bloomfields_, is most unfortunate. The Father Mr. _George +Bloomfield_ had 2 Inches less of this Greatness.] + +[Footnote 4: I had a hint from both the Brothers, GEORGE and ROBERT, +that NATHANIEL had a turn for Poetry, and had written what they believ'd +would much please me. C.L.] + +[Footnote 5: A name-sake and relation of the Author: of the Age, as I +understand, of about 14.] + +[Footnote 6: I am half tempted to say of it + + _A Fist may hit him who a Sermon flies._ + +Ridiculum aeri Fortius et melius magnas quandoque fecat res. C.L.] + +[Footnote 7: BURNS, and Mrs. YEARSLEY.] + +[Footnote 8: _Pauci quos aequus amavit Jupiter_, atque ardens evexit +ad aethera Virtus, Felices, potuere!] + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + +ESSAY ON WAR + +HONINGTON GREEN + +THE CULPRIT + +YORKSHIRE DIP + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH + +PROVERBS OF THREESCORE + +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE + +LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER + + * * * * * + + + + +ESSAY ON WAR + + +[War for room required by encreased Population.--With Arts of Use +and Comfort spring those of War.--Blessings of the Infant State of +Society.--Peace cannot last beyond the Infancy of Society.--War +defined to preserve the equilibrium of Population.--War between hords +of emigrating Stranger Nations.--Invasions on account of violated +Women.--Love the strongest and most natural cause of War.--Violence of +conflicting Passions at sight of an Enemy.--Solitary wounded Combatant +amid the Dying and Dead.--Female Friends seeking for Dead or Wounded +Relatives.--Morning after the Battle--Sympathy--Compassion.--Long +remembrance of the Horrors of War.--Gunpowder; it's tremendous +effects.--Gunpowder, a humane discovery.--Castles &c. proofs of the +continued prevalence of War.--Men quit a peaceful Country to seek War +abroad.--History full of War.--Slavish Peace more cruel and more horrid +than War.--Obligations of Peace to the active Virtues of War.--Havock +of Peace more shocking than that of War.--War between Man and the rest +of the animal Creation.--War of the Elements and natural +Powers.--Recapitulation.... Conclusion.] + + * * * * * + +Man's sad necessity, destructive War, +Sweeps to the grave the surplus of his sons, +Where'er the kindly clime and soil invite +To Love; and multiply the Human Race. + Around the World, in every happier spot +Where Earth spontaneous gives nutritious fruits. +Her softest verdure courting human feet, +And mossy grot's, beneath protecting shades, +The Stranger's envy, the Possessor's pride; +There, as increasing numbers throng each bower. +Frequent and fatal rivalships arise; +And ruthless War erects his hideous crest. + Soon as Appropriation's iron hand +Assays to grasp the Produce of the Earth; +And youths assert hereditary power, +Propriety exclusive, and in arms +League to defend their patrimonial rights, +Indisputable claim of Fruits and Fields +Contending, oft their massive clubs they raise +Against each other's life: often, alas, +The needy cravings of the unportion'd poor +Provoke their jealous wrath; relentlessly +Tenacious of their store, they shut him out, +'Midst desart Famine, and ferocious Beasts, +To guard his life and till the steril soil; +And thus extend the range of human feet. + Still as Experience, in her tardy school, +Instructs the Shepherd and the Husbandman +To great increase their flocks and herds to rear, +To till the ground, and plant the fruitful tree +In slow progression rising into use, +Nurtur'd by Her the infant Arts appear. +While sage Experience thus teaches Man +The useful and the pleasant Arts of Life, +She in harsh lectures, in the frequent broil, +Enjoins her Pupil still to cultivate +The fatal, necessary Art of War. + The Artizan, who from metallic ores +Forms the sharp implements to dress the glebe, +And prune the wild luxuriance of the tree; ... +By him is made the sword, the spear, the shaft, +By Man worn to defend him against Man. + Most bless'd the country where kind Nature's face +In unsophisticated Freedom smiles: +Happy the tenants of primeval days +When young society is in it's spring: +Where there is room and food for millions more, +Love knows no check, the votaries of Love, +The happy votaries of Wedded Love, +Know not the curse of peopled, polish'd, times: +The curse to wish their children may be few. + Sweet converse binds the cords of social love; +When the rude noise and gestures that ere while +Imperfectly express'd the labouring thought; +By social concourse are improv'd to Speech: +Speech, reasoning Man's distinguishing perfection; +Speech, the inestimable vehicle +Of mental light, and intellectual bliss; +Whence the fair fruits of Holy Friendship grow, +Presenting to fond Hope's enamour'd sight +The fairy prospect of perpetual Peace. +Advanc'd Society's prudential Laws, +The moral virtues of the enlighten'd mind, +And all the ties of Interest and of Love, +In vain conspire to nurse their favourite Peace, +And banish dire Immanity and War. +Strong Nature's bent, continual increase, +Still counteracts Humanity's fond wish, +The perpetuity of Peace, and Love; +Alas! progressive Increase cannot last. +Soon mourns the encumber'd land it's human load: +Too soon arrives the inauspicious hour; +The Natal Hour of the unhappy Man, +Who all his life goes mourning up and down +That there is neither bough, nor mud, nor straw +That he may take to make himself a hut; +No, not in all his native land a twig +That he may take, nor spot of green grass turf, +Where without trespass he may set his foot. +Now Want and Poverty wage War with Love; +And hard the conflict: horrible the thought, +That Love, who boasts of his all-conquering impulse, +Should have to mourn abortive energies... +But in proportion as Mankind increase, +So evils multiply: till Nature's self, +(The native passions of the human mind) +Engender War; which thins, and segregates, +And rectifies the balance of the world: +As thick-sown plants in the vegetable world, +With stretching branches wage continual War; +Each tender bud shrinks from the foreign touch +With a degree of sensitive perception; +Till one deforms, o'er-tops, and kills the other. + Like Summer swarms, that quit their native hives, +The offspring of increasing families, +Who find no room beneath their father's roofs, +No patrimony nor employ at home, +Colleagu'd in bands explore the desart wilds, +To seek adventures; or to seek their food: +If chance they meet with rovers (like themselves) +Whose home is far away in distant vales, +Behind the mountains, or beyond the lake; +Instinctively they war where'er they meet: +The friendly parley cannot intervene; +The unknown tongue does but create alarm: +With jealous fears, stern looks, and brandish'd arms, +They stand aloof: as birds of distant groves +At the strange note prepare for instant War. + At first they skirmishing dispute the right +Of hunting in the unappropriate waste: +But every onset aggravates their hate; +Till each increasing force, whetting their swords, +With purpos'd malice seeking out the foe, +Alternate by reprisal and revenge, +Doubly compensate each discomfiture, +Yet seek not to attack each-other's home, +Where Age, and Infancy, in safety dwell: +They war but with freebooters: private Peace +And Female Covert, Valour scorns to assail. +But when in evil hour some female hand, +Whether by force of Love, or force of Arms, +Is led across the desart by the Foe; +The jealous fury kindles to a flame: +No longer sacred the domestic hearth: +Fire, Death, and Devastation, mark their way, +And all the horrid crimes of savage War. + Now War becomes the business of the State: +The most humane, the most pacific men, +Must arm for War, or lose all they hold dear: +The sorrows of the Aged, Infant cries, +And Female Tears, resistlessly prevail: +Can gentlest natures be in love with Peace, +When Love, most tender Love, excites to War? +No.... When some lov'd and honour'd youth distrest'd, +Raising his head amongst his arm'd compeers, +Tells that the well-known honourable Maid, +The Virgin Mistress of his dearest hopes, +Is ravish'd from him, borne by force away; +Though pierc'd with grief, yet nobly he exclaims, +'Think not I wish to embroil you in my fate: +'For though not one of you espouse my cause, +'I singly will attempt the desperate deed. +'Farewell: I go to find my Love, or die!' + Silent and motionless the legions stand, +By looks examining each-other's heart: +But soon a murmur through the ranks proceeds, +Swelling as quickly a terrific roar; +Like heavy waters breaking from their mounds, +A long, and loud, and inarticulate shout, +While every weapon vibrates in the air, +And hisses it's fierce vengeance at the foe. + The righteous cause admits of no delay; +No tardy foot impedes the immediate march: +The Enemy, not taken by surprise, +Wak'd by the watchful fears of conscious guilt, +On their frontiers await the coming foe. + Now at the near approach of threatening Death, +Full many a thinking, sighing, aching heart, +Indulges secretly the hopeless wish +For Life, and Peace.... Alas! it cannot be: +To advance is to encounter dreadful danger; +But to recede, inevitable death; +His own associates would deal the blow: + Thus led by Fate, behold upon the plain, +The adverse bands in view, and in advance. +Now Fear, Self-pity, and affected Courage, +Speak in their hideous shouts with voice scarce human; +Like that which issues from his hollow throat +Who sleeping bellows in a frightful dream. +More near their glaring eye-balls flashing meet; +Terror and Rage distorting every face, +Inflame each-other into trembling fury. + Soft-ey'd Humanity, oh! veil thy sight! +Tis not in Rationality to view +(Even in thought) the dire ensuing scene; +For Madness, Madness reigns, and urges men +To deeds that Rationality disowns. + Now here and there about the horrid Field, +Striding across the dying and the dead, +Stalks up a man by strength superior, +Or skill and prowess in the arduous fight, +Preserv'd alive: ... fainting he looks around; +Fearing pursuit, nor caring to pursue. +The supplicating voice of bitterest moans, +Contortions of excruciating pain, +The shriek of torture and the groan of death, +Surround him; and as Night her mantle spreads, +To veil the horrors of the mourning Field, +With cautious step shaping his devious way, +He seeks a covert where to hide and rest: +At every leaf that rustles in the breeze +Starting, he grasps his sword; and every nerve +Is ready strain'd, for combat or for flight. + Thus list'ning to ward off approaching foes, +A distant whispering, fighting, murmuring sound +Salutes his ear, and to his throbbing heart +Soft tidings tells of tenderness and love. +For on that fatal day of vengeful ire. +At fearful distance following the host, +From either country came a female throng; +And now beneath the covert of the night +Advancing, guided by the voice of woe, +Where on the earth the wounded mourners lay, +With trembling steps and fearful whispering voice, +Each seeks, and calls him whom she came to seek: +And many a fugitive, whom force or fear +Had driven from the Field, steals softly back, +Anxious to know the fate of some lov'd friend. +Mutual fears appal the mingled group, +Starting alternate at the unknown tongue: +They fear a foe in each uncertain form +That through the gloom imperfectly appears. +The mournful horrors of the doleful night +Melt every heart: ... and when the morning's beam +Shews the sad scene, and gives an interview, +Resentment, that worst torment of the mind, +Resentment ceases, satiate wrath subsides. +Woman is present: and so strong the charm +Of weeping Woman's fascinating tears, +That though surviving Heroes' unwash'd hands +Still grasp the falchion of horrid hue, +And though their fallen brethren from the ground +May seem to call for Vengeance from their hands, +The impulse of Revenge is felt no more; +No more the strange attire, the foreign tongue +Creates alarm: for Nature's-self has writ +In every face; where every eye can read +Repentant Sorrow, and forgiving Love. +Their mingled tears wash the lamented dead: +On every wound they pour soft Pity's balm: +Ere Sorrow's tears are dried, they feel the spring +Of new-born joys, and each expanding heart +Contemplates future scenes of Peace and Love. + Long, even as long as room and food abound, +They interchange their friendly offices +For mutual good; reciprocally kind: +And much they wonder that they e'er were foes. +Still War's terrific name is kept alive: +Tradition, pointing to the rusty arms +That hang on high, informs each list'ning youth +How erst in fatal fields their Grandsires fell; +Childhood attentive hears the tragic tale; +And learns to shudder at the name of War. + GUNPOWDER! let the Soldier's Pean rise, +Where e'er thy name or thundering voice is heard: +Let him who, fated to the needful trade, +Deals out the adventitious shafts of Death, +Rejoice in thee; and hail with loudest shouts +The auspicious era when deep-searching Art +From out the hidden things in Nature's store +Cull'd thy tremendous powers, and tutor'd Man +To chain the unruly element of Fire +At his controul, to wait his potent touch: +To urge his missile bolts of sudden Death, +And thunder terribly his vengeful wrath. +Thy mighty engines and gigantic towers +With frowning aspect awe the trembling World. +Destruction, bursting from thy sudden blaze +Hath taught the Birds to tremble at the sound; +And Man himself, thy terror's boasted lord, +Within the blacken'd hollow of thy tube, +Affrighted sees the darksome shades of Death. +Not only mourning groves, but human tears, +The weeping Widow's tears, the Orphan's cries, +Sadly deplore that e'er thy powers were known. +Yet let thy Advent be the Soldier's song, +No longer doom'd to grapple with the Foe +With Teeth and Nails--When close in view, and in +Each-other's grasp, to grin, and hack, and stab; +Then tug his horrid weapon from one breast +To hide it in another:--with clear hands +He now expertly poizing thy bright tube, +At distance kills, unknowing and unknown; +Sees not the wound he gives, nor hears the shriek +Of him whose breast he pierces.... GUNPOWDER! +(O! let Humanity rejoice) how much +The Soldier's fearful work is humaniz'd, +Since thy momentous birth--stupendous power. + In Britain, where the hills and fertile plains, +Like her historic page, are overspread +With vestiges of War, the Shepherd Boy +Climbs the green hillock to survey his flock; +Then sweetly sleeps upon his favourite hill, +Not conscious that his bed's a Warrior's Tomb. + The ancient Mansions, deeply moated round, +Where, in the iron Age of Chivalry, +Redoubted Barons wag'd their little Wars; +The strong Entrenchments and enormous Mounds, +Rais'd to oppose the fierce, perfidious Danes; +And still more ancient traces that remain +Of Dykes and Camps, from the far distant date +When minstrel Druids wak'd the soul of War, +And rous'd to arms old Albion's hardy sons, +To stem the tide of Roman Tyranny: ... +War's footsteps, thus imprinted on the ground, +Shew that in Britain he, from age to age, +Has rear'd his horrid head, and raging reign'd. + Long on the margins of the silver Tweed +Opposing Ensigns wav'd; War's clarion +Dreadfully echo'd down the winding stream, +Where now sweet Peace and Unity reside: +The happy peasant of Tweed's smiling dale, +Whene'er his spade disturbs a Soldier's bones, +With shudd'ring horror ruminates on War; +Then deeper hides the awful spectacle, +Blessing the peaceful days in which he lives + Since Peace has bless'd the villages on Tweed, +And War has ceas'd to drive his iron car +On Britain's shore, what myriads of men +Over the Eastern and the Western Seas +Have follow'd War, and found untimely graves. +Where'er the jarring interests of States +Excite the brave to' advance their native land +By deeds of arms, Britons are foremost found. +The sprightly bands, hast'ning from place to place, +Gayly carousing in their gay attire, +Invite, not force the train of heedless youths, +Who croud to share their jollity and joy: +To martial music dancing into death, +They fell their Freedom for a holiday; +And with the Rich and Great 'tis Glory charms, +And Beauty's favour that rewards the Brave. + All the historic Records of the World +Are little more than histories of Wars; +Shewing how many thousands War destroy'd, +The time, the place, and some few great ones' names. +The mournful remnants of demolished States, +The Greek, the Roman, and long-exil'd Jew; +Are living monuments of wasting War's +Annihilating power: and while they mourn +Their Grandeur faded, and their Power extinct, +To every State _memento mori_ sounds. +From age to age the habitable World +Has been a constant theatre of War: +In every land with Nature's gifts most blest, +Frequent and fatal Wars destructive rage. +So bland is fair Britannia's genial clime, +So liberal her all-protecting Laws, +So generous the spirit of her Sons, +So fond, so chaste, her Daughters virtuous love, +That human offspring still redundant grows, +And free-born Britons must contend for life. + O! envy not the lands where Slaves reside, +Though their proud Tyrants boast of _peaceful_ reign, +Where hard Oppression, freezing genial love, +Performs the work of War in embryo: +Let not mistaken fondness doat on Peace, +Preserv'd by arts more horrid far than War! ... +Let the dull languor of the pale Chinese +Desert their Infants, and their _Peace_ enjoy! +But, O! let Britons still in Love and War +Exert the generous ardour of the soul; +Protect the Fair, and foster Infancy. + By strenuous enterprize, and arduous toils, +Is public safety purchas'd and secur'd. +Negative merit, "I have done no harm," +Is an inglorious boast: shall he who sits +Secure, enjoying Plenty in the lap +Of Ease, vaunt his recumbent Virtues? ... He +Brand with harsh epithets the Warrior's toils? +While 'tis to them he owes sincerest thanks +For Peace and Safety, that are earn'd in War.... +As well might he who eats the flesh of Lambs, +And smacks the ichor in a savoury dish, +Boast his humanity, and say "My hand +Ne'er slew a Lamb;" and censure as a crime, +The Butcher's cruel, necessary trade. + In Battle, the chance-medley game of Death, +Where every one still hopes 'till he expires, +Less horror shocks the mind contemplative, +Than where, in slow procession's solemn pace, +Doom'd wretches meet their destin'd fate in bonds, +Who know the moment to expect the blow, +And count the moments 'till that moment comes: +Or where Oppression wages War, in Peace, +On the defenceless: on the hapless man +Who holds his breath but by another's will: +Whose Life is only one long cruel Death! ... +Hardly he fares, and hopelessly he toils; +And when his driver's anger, or caprice, +Or wanton cruelty, inflicts a blow, +Not daring to look angry at the whip, +Oh! see him meekly clasp his hands and bow +To every stroke: no lurid deathful scene +In Battle's rage, so racks the feeling heart; +Not all the thunders of infuriate War, +Disploding mines, and crafting, bursting bombs, +Are half so horrid as the sounding lash +That echoes through the Carribean groves. + Incessant is the War of Human Wit, +Oppos'd to bestial strength; and variously +Successful: in these happy fertile climes, +Man still maintains his surreptitious power; +Reigns o'er the Brutes, and, with the voice of Fate, +Says "This to-day, and that to-morrow dies." +Though here our Shambles blazon the Renown, +The Victory, and Rule, of lordly Man; +Far wider tracts within the Torrid Zone +Own no such Lord: where Sol's intenser rays +Create in bestial hearts more fervid fires, +And deadlier poisons arm the Serpent's tooth; +In gloomy shades, impassable to Man, +Where matted foliage exclude the Sun, +The torpid Birds that crawl from bough to bough +Utter their notes of terror: while beneath +Fury and Venom, couch'd in murky dens, +Hissing and yelling, guard the hideous gloom. +O'er dreary wastes, untrod by human feet, +Without controul the lordly Lion reigns; +And every creature trembles at his voice: +When risen from his den, he prances forth, +Extends his talons, shakes his flaky mane, +Then whurrs his tufted tail, and stooping low +His wide mouth near the ground, his dreadful roar +Makes all the desart tremble: he proclaims +His ire--proclaims his strong necessity; +And that surprise or artifice he scorns. + Unskill'd, alas! in philosophic lore, +Unbless'd with scientific erudition; +How can I sing of elemental War, +Or the contending powers of opposite +Attractions, that impel, and poize, and guide, +The ever-rolling Spheres: Animal War, +The flux of Life, devouring and devour'd, +Ceaseless in every tribe, through Earth, and Air, +And Ocean, transcends my utmost ken. + + From obvious truths my Song has aim'd to shew +That War is an inevitable Ill; +An Ill through Nature's various Realms diffus'd; +An Ill subservient to the General Good. + With sympathetic sense of human woes +Deeply impress'd, the melancholy Muse +With modesty asserts this mournful Truth: +'Tis not in human wisdom to avert, +Though every feeling heart must sure lament, +The SAD NECESSITY of FATAL WAR. + + * * * * * + + + + +ELEGY + +ON THE ENCLOSURE OF HONINGTON GREEN. + + +[Motives of Enclosure.--Natural Pleasures and humble Convenience lost by +it.--Recollections of the Spot.... The Mother.--The Father.--Character +of his Mind.--The Widow.... Maternal Cares.--The Green.... It's Beauties +and Pleasures.--The Enclosure in general less an object to the +Poor.--Under whatever Change the Man will adapt itself.--The new Scene +will find it's Admirers.--Pleasures are as the Mind and it's Habits.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Improvement extends it's domain; + The Shepherds of Britain deplore + That the Coulter has furrow'd each plain, + And their calling is needful no more. + "Enclosing Land doubles its use; + When cultur'd, the heath and the moor + Will the Riches of Ceres produce, + Yet feed as large flocks as before." + + 2 + + Such a lucrative maxim as this + The Lords of the Land all pursue, + For who such advantage wou'd miss? + Self-int'rest we all keep in view. + By it, they still more wealth amass, + Who possess'd great abundance before; + It gives pow'r to the Great, but alas! + Still poorer it renders the Poor. + + 3 + + Taste spreads, her refinements around, + Enriching her favourite Land + With prospects of beautified ground, + Where, cinctur'd, the spruce Villas stand; + On the causeways, that never are foul, + Marshal'd bands may with measur'd pace tread; + The soft Car of Voluptuousness roll, + And the proud Steed of Greatness parade. + + 4 + + Those fenc'd ways that so even are made, + The pedestrian traveler bemoans; + He no more the green carpet may tread, + But plod on, 'midst the gravel and stones: + And if he would rest with his load, + No green hillock presents him a seat, + But long, hard, tiresome sameness of road + Fatigues both the eye and the feet. + + 5 + + Sighs speak the poor Labourers' pain, + While the new mounds and fences they rear, + Intersecting their dear native plain, + To divide to each rich Man his share; + It cannot but grieve them to see, + Where so freely they rambled before, + What a bare narrow track is left free + To the foot of the unportion'd Poor. + + 6 + + The proud City's gay wealthy train. + Who nought but refinements adore, + May wonder to hear me complain + That Honington Green is no more; + But if to the Church you e'er went, + If you knew what the village has been, + You will sympathize, while I lament + The Enclosure of Honington Green. + + 7 + + That no more upon Honington Green + Dwells the Matron whom most I revere, + If by pert observation unseen, + I e'en now could indulge a fond tear. + E'er her bright Morn of Life was o'ercast, + When my senses first woke to the scene, + Some short happy hours she had past + On the margin of Honington Green. + + 8 + + Her Parents with Plenty were blest, + And nume'rous her Children, and young, + Youth's Blossoms her cheek yet possest, + And Melody woke when she sung: + A Widow so youthful to leave, + (Early clos'd the blest days he had seen) + My Father was laid in his grave, + In the Church-yard on Honington Green. + + 9 + + I faintly remember the Man, + Who died when I was but a Child; + But far as my young mind could scan, + His manners were gentle and mild: + He won infant ears with his lore, + Nor let young ideas run wild, + Tho' his hand the severe rod of pow'r + Never sway'd o'er a trembling Child. + + 10 + + Not anxiously careful for pelf, + Melancholic and thoughtful, his mind + Look'd inward and dwelt on itself, + Still pensive, pathetic, and kind; + Yet oft in despondency drown'd, + He from friends, and from converse would fly. + In weeping a luxury found, + And reliev'd others' woes with a sigh. + + 11 + + In solitude long would he stay, + And long lock'd in silence his tongue; + Then he humm'd an elegiac lay, + Or a Psalm penitential he sung: + But if with his Friends he regal'd, + His Mirth, as his Griefs, knew no bounds; + In no Tale of Mark Sargent he sail'd, + Nor in all Robin Hood's Derry-downs. + + 12 + + Thro' the poor Widow's long lonely years, + Her Father supported us all: + Yet sure she was loaded with cares, + Being left with six Children so small. + Meagre Want never lifted her latch; + Her cottage was still tight and clean; + And the casement beneath it's low thatch + Commanded a view o'er the Green. + + 13 + + O'er the Green, where so often she blest + The return of a Husband or Son, + Coming happily home to their rest, + At night, when their labour, was done: + Where so oft in her earlier years, + She, with transport maternal, has seen + (While plying her housewifely cares) + Her Children all safe on the Green. + + 14 + + The Green was our pride through the year, + For in Spring, when the wild flow'rets blew, + Tho' many rich pastures were near, + Where Cowslips and Daffodils grew; + And tho' such gallant flow'rs were our choice, + It was bliss interrupted by Fear-- + The Fear of their Owner's dread voice, + Harshly bawling "You've no business here." + + 15 + + While the Green, tho' but Daisies it's boast, + Was free as the Flow'rs to the Bee; + In all seasons the Green we lov'd most, + Because on the Green we were free; + 'Twas the prospect that first met my eyes, + And Memory still blesses the scene; + For early my heart learnt to prize + The Freedom of Honington Green. + + 16 + + No Peasant had pin'd at his lot, + Tho' new fences the lone Heath enclose: + For, alas! the blest days are forgot, + When poor Men had their Sheep and their Cows. + Still had Labour been blest with Content, + Still Competence happy had been, + Nor Indigence utter'd a plaint, + Had Avarice spar'd but the Green. + + 17 + + Not Avarice itself could be mov'd + By desire of a morsel so small: + It could not be lucre he lov'd; + But to rob the poor folk of their all. + He in wantonness ope'd his wide jaws, + As a Shark may disport with the Fry; + Or a Lion, when licking his paws, + May wantonly snap at a Fly. + + 18 + + Could there live such an envious Man, + Who endur'd not the halcyon scene? + When the infantine Peasantry ran, + And roll'd on the daisy-deck'd Green: + Ah! sure 'twas fell Envy's despite, + Lest Indigence tasted of Bliss, + That sternly decreed they've no right + To innocent pleasure like this. + + 19 + + Tho' the Youth of to-day must deplore-- + The rough mounds that now sadden the scene, + The vain stretch of Misanthropy's Power, + The Enclosure of Honington Green. + Yet when not a green turf is left free, + When not one odd nook is left wild, + Will the Children of Honington be + Less blest than when I was a Child? + + 20 + + No! ... Childhood shall find the scene fair, + Then here let me cease my complaint; + Still shall Health be inhal'd with the Air, + Which at Honington cannot be taint: + And tho' Age may still talk of the Green, + Of the Heath, and free Commons of yore, + Youth shall joy in the new-fangled scene, + And boast of _that_ change we deplore. + + 21 + + Dear to me was the wild-thorny Hill, + And dear the brown Heath's sober scene; + And Youth shall find Happiness still, + Tho' he roves not on Common or Green: + Tho' the pressure of Wealth's lordly hand + Shall give Emulation no scope, + And tho' all the' appropriate Land + Shall leave Indigence nothing to hope. + + 22 + + So happily flexile Man's make. + So pliantly docile his mind, + Surrounding impressions we take, + And bliss in each circumstance find. + The Youths of a more polish'd Age + Shall not wish these rude Commons to see; + To the Bird that's inur'd to the Cage, + It would not be Bills to be free. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE CULPRIT. + + + "_Man hard of heart to Man! ... of horrid things_ + _Most horrid; midst stupendous highly strange:_ + _Yet oft his courtesies are smoother wrongs;_ + _Pride brandishes the favours he confers,_ + _And contumelious his Humanity._ + _What then his vengeance? hear it not, ye Stars,_ + _And thou, pale Moon, turn paler at the sound_: ... + _Man is to Man the sorest, surest Ill._" + +YOUNG. + + * * * * * + +[His Reflections on the Propensity to gaze on Misery.--Military +Punishments.--Eager Curiosity of Spectators.--Theatric Amusements.--He +examines the Motives where the Distress is real.--His Dread from the +Disposition of Mankind.--The Jury withdrawn.... His Reflections.--Full +of apprehension.... effect of Pride in maintaing an opinion.--His fears +from the diminished regard of an Oath.--This idea pursued.--Instance +of false Shame.... of contempt of Shame.--Perjury.--Duty of +Deliberation.... Misbodings.--Hopes from mild and conscientious +feelings.--Conflict of Hope, Doubt, and Fear.--The Verdict.] + + * * * * * + + 'Man hard of heart! of horrid things + Most horrid! and of strange most strange:'... + Thus the mournful Poet sings, + Experienc'd in Life's various range. + + In the hopeful morn of Youth, + This serious Song I lov'd and learn'd, + Nor ever thought the mournful truth + Would ever thus by me be mourn'd. + + Ne'er thought I ever thus should stand, + The butt of every tearful eye; + To raise the Culprit's trembling hand, + To heave the Culprit's anxious sigh. + + Now the mournful truth to prove, + Gazing crouds around I see, + For sure 'tis cruel selfish love + That brings them here to gaze on me. + + 'Tis thus wherever human woe, + Wherever deep distress appears; + Thither curious gazers go, + To' insult the wretched with their tears. + + E'en where hostile armies join + In the horrid frightful fray, + Where groaning mortals life resign, + I've heard their fellow-mortal say-- + + 'Oh! for a safe and lofty stand, + Where I the Battle's rage might see; + When Carnage, with relentless hand, + Strews the Ground, or stains the Sea.'[9] + + When list'ning, with suspended breath, + A wretch his dreadful sentence hears, + In Martial Court, where worse than Death + The Military Culprit fears. + + And when encircled by the band, + Lingering torments, public shame, + Severity's most ruthless hand + Lacerates his manly frame: + + When many a hardy Soldier weeps, + And grieves that he's compell'd to stay; + Who perforce his station keeps, + Or would soon be far away; + + Yet see beyond the circling guard, + Idle gazers flocking round, + To see and hear are pressing hard, + As if the spot were fairy ground. + + What is it that a charm imparts? + Why do they press to hear and see? + Can it be that human hearts + Delight in human misery? + + When the inexorable hour + Chills the hopeless convict's blood; + When sunk and drown'd his eve'ry power, + In sorrow's overwhelming flood: + + To view the scene the many run, + And o'er the hapless wretch to sigh: + Nor once enquire the crime he' has done; ... + They only come to see him die. + + Various cares mankind employ; + But to gaze on human woe + Seems the universal joy, + For which they all their cares forego. + + Each from his pursuit departs, + Suffering, dying Man to see; + Surely there are human hearts + That joy in human misery. + + Where fictitious tragic woe + Entertains the gaudy ring, + Each the horror can forego, + And instant mental comfort bring. + + When the spirits take alarm, + Prompt to anger, grief, or spleen, + Reason can dissolve the charm, + And say, 'tis a fictitious scene. + + But to scenes of real woe, + Where a wretch is truely dying, + Wherefore do such numbers go, + What can be the joy of sighing? + + Men of thought, who soar serene, + And loftily philosophize, + Will say they seek the solemn scene, + To contemplate and sympathize. + + And all the throng will tell you so: ... + 'Tis sympathy that brings them there; + They love to weep for others' woe, + And come but to enjoy a tear. + + If to _enjoy_ the tear that starts, + They run the sorrow'd scene to see-- + Alas! for pity ... human hearts + Delight in human misery. + + Still my wretched thought thus strays, + 'Midst gloomy scenes and prospects drear; + My weary mind, in various ways + Seeking Hope, still finds Despair. + + This thought a weight of woe imparts, + At once to sink a wretch like me; + What can I hope, if human hearts + Delight in human misery? + + Tortur'd by severe suspense, + I the Jurors' Verdict wait, + Ere I may depart from hence, + Their decision seals my fate. + + Now withdrawn, their close debate + Admits no curious, list'ening ear, + But the result's so big with fate, + The Culprit must in thought be there. + + And now, led on by sad despair, + Does a frightful form obtrude; + Vindictive Spleen assumes the air + Of noble, manly Fortitude. + + And thus I hear the Demon say, + 'Let us not abuse our trust; + 'We must not be led away + 'For mercy's sake, to be unjust.' + + Yet he'll profess no wrath to feel + 'Gainst such a hapless wretch as I; + No! ... but for the public weal, + 'Tis expedient that I die. + + And this his judgment once made known, + Self-love and self-conceit's so strong, + He'll rather let me die than own + That his opinion could be wrong. + + Ye who the lore of distant climes + Canvass, latent truth to find; + Who hail our philosophic times, + And Man's emancipated mind: + + Oh! ye who boast the enlighten'd age, + Who boast your right of thinking free ... + If e'er ye learn the lessons sage, + Taught in affliction's school like me, + + Should you e'er a Culprit stand, + You'll wish mankind all Christians then; + If e'er you raise the Culprit's hand, + You'll wish the Jurors Christian Men. + + When at the dread Confessional, + Men trembled from their early youth, + Taught to fear, on pain of Hell, + To utter more or less than Truth. + + Then Faith could sharpest trials stand, + Man at threat'ning Death could smile, + If but his Pastor's lenient hand + Toucht him with the Holy Oil. + + Full faith the solemn Oath obtain'd, + Man's mind was aw'd by priestly rule; + Steady to Truth he still remain'd, + Unless to priestly fraud a tool. + + But where Church Discipline has ceas'd + To train men's minds in early youth, + Hard indeed the Culprit's case, + Whose fate depends on others' truth. + + Even the man whose ways are wise, + Whose life is rul'd by Honour's laws; + Who owns, in philosophic guise, + A Deity ... a first great cause: ... + + Yet boasts his mind no shackles wears: ... + 'Tis hard his solemn Oath to trust; + For, without future hopes and fears, + Know I if Conscience makes him just? ... + + And then, the' admitted evidence ... + Ye Jurors, can his word be true? + Tempted, in his own defence, + To feign another's crime to you. + + When venial crimes in Love's gay spring, + Prompt the youthful Female's sigh; + When her roses all take wing, + And Matrons sage her plight descry; + + Blushing, weeping, she'll confess + The fault her faded cheeks discover: + But, to make her crime the less, + Imputes an outrage to her Lover. + + So strong the power of pride and shame, + Her frailty she will still deny; + Rather than own herself to blame, + She lets the hapless Lover die. + + Is Merit from his right debarr'd; + Or guiltless charg'd with foul offence? + A Knave but speaks the perjur'd word, + And laughs at injur'd Innocence. + + Laughs he at detection too? + Yes ... for he'll be but expos'd; + But set up to public view, + Should his falshood be disclos'd. + + He such exposure dares defy, + Public shame is not his fear; + He who can vouch the solemn lie, + Would shew his forehead any where. + + While Innocence meets punishment, + While Falshood can produce such woes, + Mercy's self must needs lament + Perjury not more punish'd goes. + + Dubious may be the Culprit's case, + Though clear and open all his ways; + What Life is proof 'gainst dire disgrace, + If guileful hate his act pourtrays? + + Ye Jurors cautiously proceed, + When the question's left to you, + Not 'Has the Culprit done the deed?' + But 'Was the deed a crime to do?'[10] + + Grudge not deliberation's time, + Lest you should be too severe; + When Justice must believe a crime, + She lends it her most tardy ear. + + How short is this momentous hour! + O! how swift the minutes fly! + Soon the Jurors, arm'd with power, + Will come to bid me live or die. + + Pointed thoughts of Life and Death, + Anxious sore solicitude, + Shake my frame, suspend my breath, + When Terror's gloomy shades protrude. + + But when Hope cheers me with the sound + Of Mercy's voice, of Mercy's plea, + And tells me Mercy will be found + Amongst the twelve to speak for me, + + Rapt Fancy hears the Cherub plead: ... + Propitious is the Culprit's fate, + If one, by tender mercy sway'd, + Amongst the Jurors takes his seat. + + One who will meek-ey'd Mercy's laws + Oppose to Rigour's doubtful rule ... + Nor quit the hapless Culprit's cause, + Though sterner Judgements deem him fool. + + Blessings that wait his heart, his tongue, + Cannot elate his tranquil breast: + He courts no blessing from the throng; + He is, and ever will be, blest. + + He shall win the Jury's ear, + Pity glist'ning in his eye; + Let us not be too severe.... + If we let the Culprit die, + + Fruitlessly we may bewail + In future, should our hearts relent: + O! then let Mercy's voice prevail; + Mercy we can ne'er repent. + + Mercy smiles, and every face + Reflects the Cherub's aspect meek; + Glowing with her resistless grace, + Mercy beams on every cheek. + + Hope, thy presage cannot fail. + Bid my Mary cease to mourn; + Surely Mercy shall prevail, + And I to Love and Life return. + + Shall I the lenient Verdict hear, + Thrilling through my shivering frame? + Ye Jurors, clad in smiles appear, + To realize this happy dream. + + Their Deliberation's o'er, + How shall I the Crisis meet? + Hark! I hear the opening door: ... + Silence and Awe attend their feet! + + They enter ... though no voice is heard, + Mercy in each face I see; + They speak ... and in the single word + Is Life, and Love, and Liberty! + + * * * * * + +[Footnote 9: The sentiment of Lucretius-- + + _Suave etiam Martis certamina magna tueri_ + _Per campos instructa, tuo fine parte percli._ + + Sweet to behold the Martial Contest spread + Wide o'er the Plains, without thy share of Ill. + +But the Philosophic Poet accounts for it by the heightened sense of +safety; and not on the principle of Malevolence.] + +[Footnote 10: This Question may come before the Jury in Cases of +_Homicide, Assault and Battery_, and other charges of that nature, which +may be justifiable on circumstances: but in many if the fact is found, +as in _Forgery_, &c. the criminality, with some very rare exceptions, is +a legal inference necessarily resulting from the fact. C.L.] + + * * * * * + + + + +YORKSHIRE DIP. + + +[The Country Ramble of Jupiter.--The Feast: ... It's Music, and +Gaiety.--The Dip makes it's appearance.--The Consequence.] + + * * * * * + + Once on a time, old Legends say, + 'Twas on a sultry Summer's day, + A Grecian God forsook the Skies, + To taste of Earth's felicities. + Clad like a rusticated elf, + (Perhaps _incog._ 'twas Jove himself) + He travers'd hills, and glens, and woods, + And verdant lawns, by crystal floods; + For sure, said he, if Earth has joys, + They dwell remote from pomp and noise. + He loitering pass'd the vacant hour, + For Strawberries stoop'd, or pluck'd a Flower, + And snuff'd the Zephyrs as they play'd, + In wanton curves beneath the shade. + 'Till having every sweet pursued, + That leisure finds in solitude, + Resolving now to seek Mankind, + And new delights in converse find, + He left the woods, he cross'd the plain, + And join'd the Reapers' jolly train; + With Men and Maids he talk'd and toil'd, + While jocund mirth the hours beguil'd; + For Maids the cheerful labour shar'd, + And blooming health their rich reward. + When noon advanc'd, Sol's downward rays + Shedding intolerable blaze, + Compel the Labourers' retreat, + To shelter from the fervent heat; + The copse that skirts the irriguous mead + Affords a welcome cooling shade. + A Damsel from the careful Dame + With wholesome viands loaded came; + Though coarse and homely was their meal, + Though brown their bread, and mild their ale, + Gladly they view'd the plenteous store, + Dispos'd on Nature's verdant floor. + The aerial Stranger soon made free, + Nor miss'd Apollo's minstrelsy; + For chirping Grasshoppers were heard, + With dulcet notes of many a Bird + That sought at noon the umbrageous glade + And softly sung beneath the shade. + He took his place upon the ground, + With Lads and Lasses circling round; + He sat as they sat, fed as they fed, + Drank ale, and laugh'd, and talk'd, as they did; + Each playful wile, by Love employ'd, + He by kind sympathy enjoy'd; + The Lover's extasies he caught, + When looks convey'd th' enamour'd thought; + From breast to breast while raptures bound, + He prais'd the varied prospects round, + Compar'd each Lass to Beauty's Queen, + And own'd it an Elysian scene, + The jolly God smil'd all propitious, + But ah! how fatally capricious.... + It chanc'd, amidst this humble Feast, + A cup of YORKSHIRE DIP was plac'd ... + A pudding-sauce well-known of yore, + When folks were frugal, though not poor; + An olio mixt of _sweet and sour_. + Soon as this touch'd his laughing lip, + That unmixt Nectar us'd to sip, + He rose, and with a threat'ning frown + Of direful Anger[11], dash'd it down, + And swore, departing in a huff, + I'll make your lives like that d----d stuff. + + Too sure the Malediction fell, + As every mortal wight can tell: + For HUMAN LIFE, to this bless'd hour, + Like _Yorkshire Dip_, is SWEET AND SOUR. + + * * * * * + +[Footnote 11: Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust.[12] POPE.] + +[Footnote 12: The Poet has drawn his Jupiter according to the Homeric +Model, in it's least divine features. Yet I wish he had not. The +_Yorkshire Dip_ (the mixture of sweet and sour) might have remained a +type of Life, temper'd in like manner: not by the wrath but by the +_benevolence_ of Jupiter. + + ... Who hath will'd + That Pleasure be co-mate of Toil and Pain, + Lest Joy should sink in listless apathy. + + _... Curit acuens mortalia corda,_ + _Nec torpere gravi passus fua Regna Veterno._ + +GEORG. I. + +And accordingly the next Poem. C.L.] + + * * * * * + + + + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH: + +AN ELEGIAC BALLAD. + + +[The Expostulation.--Continued.--Fears of +Poverty.--Encouragement.--Baldwin's Song.--Deceitfulness of visions +indulgence.--Tormenting distressing Passions.--Comforts of a low +Fortune.--Poverty in England contrasted with other Countries.--The +Question.... The Conclusion.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Come, let us seek the woodland shade, + And leave this view of towns and towers: + Sweeter far the verdant mead, + And lonely dell's sequester'd bowers. + + 2 + + Why does my Love this walk prefer; + This hill, so near the public way? + Why is this prospect dear to her? + Where Villas proud their pomp display? + + 3 + + Ah! why does Mary sometimes sigh, + Surveying this magnific scene; + The seats of Grandeur tow'ring high, + With Rivers, Groves, and Lawns between? + + 4 + + On splendid Cars, that smoothly move, + With high-born Youths gay Damsels ride; + By the encircling arm of Love + Press'd to the wealthy Lover's side. + + 5 + + Why turn to view their easy state, + As the long glittering train moves by? + And when they reach the pompous gate, + Ah! why does youthful Mary sigh? + + 6 + + Doth Envy that fond bosom heave? + Repining at her humble lot ... + Alas! does Mary long to leave + The lonely Dale and lowly Cot? + + 7 + + Pure and sincere is Mary's Love: + Words were superfluous to tell; + A thousand tendernesses prove + That Mary loves her Stephen well. + + 8 + + When list'ning to the Stockdove's moan, + Far in the deep sequester'd grove, + The blush that whisper'd, "We're alone," + Sweetly confess the power of Love. + + 9 + + Exalted Love concealment mocks, + This feign'd indifference does but prove + That was I Lord of Fields and Flocks, + My Mary's Lips would own her Love. + + 10 + + Doth Poverty create the fears + That o'er your love their shadows fling? ... + The silence of those falling tears + Confesses all the truth I sing. + + 11 + + O! Mary, let not empty shew, + Let not the pride of gaudy dress, + Thus cloud thy morn of life with woe, + And blight it's future happiness. + + 12 + + Trust the monition Baldwin gave, + Our future bliss it's truth shall prove, + Life's cares the Lovers who dare brave, + Shall find their rich reward in Love: + + 13 + + Baldwin, the hoary-headed Bard, + I still consult when cares annoy: + He own'd for me a fond regard; + And calls me still his darling Boy. + + 14 + + His mind is fraught with spoils of Time; + He's wise and good, though known to few; + He gave me this advice in rhyme, + And here I'll read the Song to you:-- + + 15 + + "Though envious Age affects to deem thee Boy, + Lose not one day, one hour, of proffer'd bliss; + In youth grasp every unoffending joy, + And wing'd with rapture snatch the bridal kiss. + + 16 + + "Let not this chief of blessings be deferr'd, + Till you your humble fortunes can improve; + None's poor but he, by sordid fears deterr'd, + Who dares not claim the matchless wealth of Love. + + 17 + + "Virtue can make most rich thy little store; + Virtue can make most bright thy lowly state: + Murmur not then that virtuous thou art poor, + While prosperous Vice can make men rich and great. + + 18 + + "The bad man may, his every sense to please, + Each soft indulging luxury employ: + The plenitude of elegance and ease + He may possess; but never can enjoy. + + 19 + + "No ... though his goods, and flocks, and herds abound; + His wide demesne to fair profusion grown; + Though proud his lofty mansion looks around, + On hills, and fields, and forests, all his owns + + 20 + + "Tho' this may tempt thee, murmuring to complain, + With conscience clear, and life void of offence, + 'Verily, then, I've cleans'd my heart in vain; + In vain have wash'd my hands in Innocence.' + + 21 + + "Yet could'st thou closely mark the envied Man, + See how desires ungovern'd mar his peace; + Or had'st thou power his inward mind to scan, + How soon in pity would thy envy cease! + + 22 + + "Envenom'd Passions all his thoughts unhinge! + The Slave of Vice must thy companion move; + If still he burns with thirst of dire Revenge, + Lawless Ambition, or unhallow'd Love. + + 23 + + "'Midst gayest scenes he wean a gloomy frown: + Vain is the splendour that his dome adorns; + While he reclines on silky heaps of down, + His tortur'd mind is weltering on thorns. + + 24 + + "To prove that man opprest with mental pain, + The goods of Fortune have no power to please, + Even Suicide has oft been known to stain + The downy couch of most luxurious case. + + 25 + + "The active life of Labour gives no room + To that dull spleen the Indolent endure; + Generous cares dispel our mental gloom, + And Industry is Melancholy's cure. + + 26 + + "Repine not then, that low thy lot is cast; + Health gives to life or high or low it's zest; + 'Tis Appetite that seasons our repast, + And Weariness still finds the softest rest. + + 27 + + "For all thy blessings thankfulness to wake, + Think of less cultur'd lands, less peaceful times; + Our coarsest fare, when sparingly we take, + 'Tis luxury, compar'd with other climes. + + 28 + + "Think of the poor Greenlanders' dismal caves, + Where thro' their long, long Night they buried lie; + Or the more wretched lands where hapless slaves + Hopelessly toil beneath the fervid Sky. + + 29 + + "In Britain ... blest with peace and competence, + Rich Fortune's favours could impart no more: ... + Heaven's blessings equal happiness dispense; + Believe my words, for I am old and poor. + + 30 + + "Many who drudge in Labour's roughest ways, + By whom Life's simplest, lowliest walks are trod, + Happily live, to honor'd length of days, + Blessing kind Nature, and kind Nature's God." + + 31 + + What think you, is sage Baldwin right? + Should Spring-tide Love endure delay? + And shall our bliss be seal'd ere Night? + Say, lovely Mary, softly say? + + 32 + + Why starts my Love? ... why rise to go? + Will Mary then my suit deny? + Sweet is the smile that answers, No! + By Heaven, there's rapture in her eye! + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PROVERBS OF THREESCORE: + +AFFECTIONATELY ADDRESSED TO EIGHTEEN. + + +[The Contrast.--Encouragement.--The Admonition.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Have you seen the delightless abode, + Where Penury nurses Despair; + Where comfortless Life is a load, + Age wishes no longer to bear. + Ah! who, in this lazerhouse pent, + His lone wailings sends up to the skies? + 'Tis the Man whose young prime was mispent; + 'Tis he who so bitterly sighs. + + 2 + + His Youth, sunk in profligate waste, + Lest no Comforts Life's evening to cheer; + He must only it's bitterness taste, + No Friend, no kind relative near. + His Children by want forc'd to roam, + Are aliens wherever they are: + They have long left his desolate home; + Have left him alone to despair. + + 3 + + Have you seen the delectable place, + Where honor'd Age loves to abide; + Where Plenty, and Pleasure, and Peace, + With Virtue and Wisdom reside? + Autumn's Fruits he has carefully stor'd; + His Herds willing tributes abound: + And the smiles of his plenteous board, + By his Children's Children are crown'd. + + 4 + + And his is the Godlike delight, + The power to relieve the distress'd! ... + Who can contemplate blessings so bright, + And not wish to be equally bless'd. + Then let not the means be forgot: + Remember, and mark this great truth; + 'Twas not Chance fix'd his prosp'rous Lot, + 'Twas the Virtues of provident Youth. + + 5 + + If such a bright prospect can charm, + If you feel emulation arise, + If your juvenile bosom is warm, + With the hope to be wealthy and wise; + O cherish the noble design, + The maxims of Prudence pursue, + Application and Industry join, + 'Tis the way fickle Fortune to woo. + + 6 + + Early cultivate Virtue's rich seeds; + These will fruits in Life's winter display: + Ne'er defer till to-morrow good deeds, + That as well might be finish'd to-day. + For Age and Experience can tell, + And you'll find, when you grow an old man, + Though it's never too late to do well, + You will wish you had sooner began. + + * * * * * + + + + +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE. + + +A NEW SONG, + +_Written in the Beginning of the Year 1793_. + + +[The Balance of Population and Supply.--The Overstock'd Hive.--The +Source of War.] + + * * * * * + +TO THE TUNE OF "NOTTINGHAM ALE." + + 1 + + My Brothers of this world, of ev'ry Nation, + Some maxims of prudence the Muse would inspire. + Now restlessness reigns throughout every station; + The low would be high, and the high would be higher; + Now Freedom's the word, + That unsheaths ev'ry sword, + But don't be deceiv'd by such pretexts as these: + 'Tis not Freedom, nor Slavery, + That calls for your Bravery; + 'Tis, only a Scramble for more Bread and Cheese. + + 2 + + When others some party are venting their rage on, + Inflam'd by the news from Versailles or the Hague, + Let Mum be your maxim ... beware of contagion ... + For Anger is catching as Fever or Plague: + Now Victuals is scanty, + And Eaters are plenty, + The former must rise, or the latter decrease; + If in War they're employ'd, + Till one half are destroy'd, + The few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese. + + 3 + + Think not that Employment's the grand requisition; + That if men had work it would make the times good; + No man would want work if he lack'd not provision; + The cry for Employ is the cry for more Food. + Now every Trade, + From the Gown to the Spade, + Oppress'd by it's numbers feels Scarcity's squeeze; + From the Prince to the Peasant, + 'Tis true, tho' unpleasant, + There must be fewer mouths, or else more Bread and Cheese. + + 4 + + Now our Hive is so pinch'd, both for room and for honey, + The industrious Bees would fain kick out the Drones: + But expose not your Life, for victuals nor money; + 'Tis better you supperless sleep with whole bones, + Then shuffle, and hustle, + Keep clear of the bustle, + Step out of the way-when they kick up a breeze: + Preserve your own Life, + Till the end of the strife: + Then the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese. + + 5 + + Think not Hell is let loose with a terrible mission, + To punish a world for incor'gible Sin. + Not from angry Gods, nor from deep Politicians, + War nat'rally springs from the Passions of Men[13]: + 'Tis for room and for food, + That Men fight and shed blood[14]; + When sufficiently thinn'd the inducement will cease: + There'll be room for us all, + When our numbers are small: + And the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese. + + +[Footnote 13: So hath said the APOSTLE. _Ja_: iv. 1 But then these +warring Passions are something very like national Sins. C.L.] + +[Footnote 14: Bad as this would be, it would be well if they made not War +on Motives less naturally urgent than these: "_glandem atque ambilia +propter_." It is worse to make Wars of Heroical, still worse of +Ministerial, and worst of all of Commercial Speculation. C.L.] + + * * * * * + + + + +LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER. + + +[Vaccine Inoculation.--Distress and Terrors of the Small Pox.--Dangers +of Delay.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Rejoice, rejoice, Humanity! + The fell, destructive, sore Disease, + The pest of ages, now can be, + Repell'd with safety and with ease. + + 2 + + He well deserves his Country's Meed, + By whom the peerless blessing came; + And thousands from destruction freed, + Shall raptur'd speak of JENNER'S name. + + 3 + + Yes, JENNER'S vigilance is crown'd; + A sovereign antidote is given: + The Blessing flows the Nations round; + Free he diffus'd the gift of Heaven. + + 4 + + So well approv'd it's sure effect, + To turn aside the' impending harm; + And shall parental Love neglect + To minister the precious balm? + + 5 + + Oh! no; beware of dire Delay, + Ye, who caress your Infants dear: + Defer it not from day to day, + From month to month, from year to year: + + 6 + + Lest you, like me, too late lament, + Your Life bereft of all it's joy; + Clasp now the Gift so kindly sent, + Lest you behold your dying Boy! + + 7 + + Lest you see with trembling Fear, + With inexpressible Distress; + The purple spots of Death appear, + To blast your Hopes and Happiness: + + 8 + + Lest your keenest grief to wake, + Like mine your suffering prattler say, + 'Go, bid my Father come and take + 'These frightful Spots and Sores away.' + + 9 + + Quickly from such fears be free: + Oh! there is Danger in Delay! + Say not to-morrow it shall be: ... + To-morrow! no; to-day, to-day. + + 10 + + Embrace the Blessing Heaven hath sent; + So shall you ne'er such pangs endure: + Oh! give a Trifle to prevent, + What you would give a World to cure. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11564 *** diff --git a/11564-h/11564-h.htm b/11564-h/11564-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c49cb49 --- /dev/null +++ b/11564-h/11564-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2671 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Essay on War, in Blank Verse; Honington Green, a Ballad; The Culprit, an Elegy; and Other Poems, on Various Subjects, by Nathaniel Bloomfield</title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + + .note, .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + + .figure {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em; margin: auto;} + .figure img {border: none;} + .figure p + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11564 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, An Essay on War, in Blank Verse; +and Other Poems, on Various Subjects, by Nathaniel Bloomfield</h1> +<br /> +<br /> +<center><b>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Tony Browne, David Garcia,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</b></center> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<h1> + AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; +</h1> + + + +<h2> +HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; +</h2> + +<h2> +THE CULPRIT, <i>AN ELEGY</i>; +</h2> + +<h3> +AND +</h3> + +<h2> +OTHER POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS: +</h2> + +<center> +BY +</center> + +<h4> +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD. +</h4> + +<center> +1803. +</center> + +<p> </p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<blockquote> +<b>Transcriber's Note</b>: The page headers in the original text contained +one-line summaries of what appears on that page within each poem. Due to +the difficulty of interleaving these lines without completely disrupting +the flow of the poetry, they have been collected and placed in a single +square-bracketed paragraph at the start of each poem, and separated by +em-dashes. +</blockquote> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + PREFACE. +</h2> + + + +<hr /> + +<p> +Whoever has read the <i>Preface</i> to the FARMER'S BOY will hardly fail of +recollecting the Name of NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD; the Author of the POEMS +here offer'd to The Public. +</p> + +<p> +It will be recollected that he there appears, with his Brother GEORGE +BLOOMFIELD, standing in the place of the Father, whom they had early +lost, to their younger Brother ROBERT. +</p> + +<p> +It is natural to suppose that this brotherly interference, and it's +consequences, greatly and advantageously influenc'd the dispositions, +pursuits, and habits of thought and conduct, of all three of the +Brothers.—And it is the more exemplary when it is consider'd how young +the two eldest were at that time. +</p> + +<p> +It is an encouraging instance how much may be effected for each other +by the poor and uneducated, if they have prudence, activity, and kind +affections; and how unexpectedly, and to an extent far beyond apparent +probability, success is given by Providence to virtuous and benevolent +efforts. +</p> + +<p> +Beyond question, the Brothers of this Family are all extraordinary Men: +and perhaps every one of them is more so than he would have been without +the fraternal concord which has animated them all, and multiplied the +powers of all by union and sympathy. +</p> + +<p> +Of NATHANIEL, as of ROBERT, my Account shall be taken from +communications by Letter, made at my request by Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD. +</p> + +<p> +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was born 23d Feb.<a id="footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a> 1759. +</p> + +<p> +He was the 3d Child and 2d Son of GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, of <i>Honington</i>: and +was deprived of his Father, by the Small-pox, when he was <i>eight</i> years +old. Like ROBERT, he learnt to read and write of his MOTHER: and had, +like him, his farther instructions in <i>Writing</i>, and was taught the +first Rules of <i>Arithmetic</i>, by Mr. RODWELL, of <i>Ixworth</i><a id="footnotetag2" name="footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a>: where also +he seems to have had some instruction in <i>Grammar</i>. But his Mother being +then a <i>widow</i>, his Grandfather (Mr. ROBIN MANBY) kindly bound him +Apprentice to Mr. HAYLETT, a <i>Tailor</i> of <i>Market-Harling</i>: of which +business the Father of the BLOOMFIELDS had been. +</p> + +<p> +He was here very kindly treated: and was found to be an excellent +Apprentice. +</p> + +<p> +While here he learnt <i>Church Music</i>, (one of the great consolations of +energetic and pensive minds) and sung in a company which was conducted +by Mr. SYDER. But when his voice broke, he could make no figure among +them: for it was not only a Bass of extremely narrow compass, but <i>weak</i> +and <i>tremulous</i>. +</p> + +<p> +This latter defect of voice was observ'd in THOMSON: and perhaps it may +arise sometimes not from a fault in the natural quality of the voice, +but from exceeding sensibility to <i>Poetry</i> and <i>Music</i>. +</p> + +<p> +When about 16 or 17 years of age he entered with the fervor of a +vigorous and thoughtful mind into the study of <i>Religion</i>, on the +principles of the <i>Church</i> of <i>England</i>: and added to his study of it +what is the great end, the <i>practice</i> of Religion as a rule of conduct +and life. +</p> + +<p> +At a stall at <i>Harling Fair</i> he met with a <i>Practical Catechism</i>: the +Author's name, PRATT: and at the same time he made the acquisition of a +large volume of TILLOTSON'S Sermons. Probably the Folio Edition of the +Sermons of that excellent Man and <i>Writer</i>: so distinguish'd by his +Piety, uniform, mild, and rational; the morality of his excellent +Discourses; their simplicity and clearness; and the sweetness and +persuasiveness of manner. These, and other religious Tracts, he bought: +and "the last" (<i>Tillotson</i>) "he lent," says Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, "to +me. I receiv'd many excellent Letters from him on that subject: and they +had greater weight on my mind than if they had been written by an elder +hand." +</p> + +<p> +When his <i>Apprenticeship</i> expir'd he came to LONDON: and expected to +find his Brother GEORGE there. But GEORGE had taken a trip, "or tramp, +as it is called," into <i>Kent</i>. They however soon met in LONDON: "and +there never lived" (adds GEORGE) "a more pleasant acquaintance than +he prov'd." +</p> + +<p> +It was some years before he could procure work in LONDON sufficient to +support him through the <i>dead</i> Months. He us'd therefore, when he found +trade dull in Town, to go into the Country. +</p> + +<p> +And thus, while at <i>Woolwich</i>, he became acquainted with CHARLOTTE +NOBLE, whom he MARRIED 4th March, 1787; he being then in his 28th, and +she in her 17th year. Her Mother was a Widow: who kept a small General +Shop. Her Brother-in-law GEORGE, in speaking of this union, says, "There +perhaps never liv'd a Woman who possess'd a better temper: and he has, +though very poor, been exceedingly happy." For myself, I wish, in +transcribing this account, that those who think riches so essential to +happiness that they will take no step in life, nor suffer their hearts +or their understandings to have any influence with them, if the +acquisition of riches seems likely to be delayed or endanger'd, would +consider that the Family of the BLOOMFIELDS has been happy, and has +excell'd, upon very different principles. And if we would compare the +thousands in every situation of Life to whom what is called <i>prosperity</i> +is a snare, a burthen and a curse, with those who are happy with mere +necessaries, and those with difficulty obtain'd; ... happy by their +Affections and their Virtues; by improv'd and generous and tender +Feelings; by Hope amid difficulties, and Confidence in Heaven amid +trials and distresses, ... it might be seen and felt that there is more +of folly in the wisdom of the world, than those who place Wisdom in +the accumulation of superfluities, to the neglect of the most natural +Blessings, and often in violation of the clearest Duties, either of +<i>Justice</i> or of <i>Benevolence</i>, may be willing to acknowledge. +</p> + +<p> +He has <i>two</i> Children living:—ELIZABETH; born 11th <i>Jul</i>. 1789; GEORGE; +4th <i>Febr.</i> 1797. "He lost," adds his Brother, "two sweet Boys: who both +died within a few days of each other, by that dreadful disease the +SMALL-POX;" which, while this Preface was in the Press, has been fatal +to another promising Child, THOMAS; born <i>Aug</i>. 1799. The Father, +oppress'd with grief, reproaches himself for not having inoculated this +Child with the Small-Pox. But when it is consider'd how formidable, +after two such Losses, the SMALL-POX in any form must appear to +affectionate Parents, I think it will be evident that he is too severe +to himself in this reproach. The inoculated SMALL-POX is sometimes +fatal: had he inoculated the Child he would have reproach'd himself, +and still with more feeling than justice, for so doing. +</p> + +<p> +He had read but little Poetry when he came to LONDON: but he had not +been long there before he was struck, looking, as was his custom, at +Books on a stall, with the Title of NIGHT THOUGHTS. "He had never heard +of it before: but it's name was an irresistible charm to his melancholy, +enquiring mind. This has been ever his favourite Book. He would have +bought it had it been double the price. And as he possesses an +uncommonly retentive memory, he us'd to repeat great part of it by +rote in his walks with his Brothers. He afterwards read MILTON." +</p> + +<p> +Such a Memory, and the study of two such Authors with poetic enthusiasm, +may in part account for what exceedingly surpriz'd me in reading the +MSS. of THE ESSAY ON WAR:—a greater mastery in the mechanism, and +greater power of numbers, than I should have almost thought possible +in the first attempt in BLANK VERSE; even to a person of the best +education. +</p> + +<p> +He read too, GOLDSMITH and FIELDING. And he added to these some of our +English Poets as they fell in his way. Among these THOMSON could hardly +fail to be: but Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD remarks, "he never was so struck with +THOMSON as I should have expected." +</p> + +<p> +While single, he made it the amusement of his evenings to read +<i>Entick's Dictionary</i>, and write down every word of which he wish'd to +remember the spelling or the meaning. He has often said that since his +buying of the Sermons in his early youth, he had never bought for his +own reading any but <i>poetical</i> Books: and when he could get hold of any +miscellaneous Book, he read first the Poetry, and after look'd at no +other part. +</p> + +<p> +With this turn of Mind and habit of reading, that he has through Life +indulg'd in poetical effusions will be no matter of surprize. But be has +more than once said to his Brother GEORGE in Letters, that it was the +success of ROBERT that encouraged him to attempt an <i>Essay on War:</i> a +subject on which he had occupied his thoughts a great length of time. +</p> + +<p> +"I remember," says his Brother, "nothing particular of his infancy: +except the great share of bashfulness (or, as a Philosopher perhaps +would say, pride) which he possess'd in common with the rest of the +Family.... Exceedingly mild in his temper and kind to his play-mates, +he was very apt in learning." +</p> + +<p> +For the last 15 years his own Account is that he has certainty read +but little: his Family having claim'd his utmost exertions; and his +business allowing little leisure. And what leisure he had being +generally employed in walking with his Children. Untill last Summer he +was a <i>Journeyman</i> Tailor: but has since been a MASTER in a small way. +If therefore he appears to possess any knowledge of a litterary nature, +it must be all from the stores of Memory. +</p> + +<p> +He at present lives at No. 19, <i>Dagget Court, Broker Row, Moorfields, +London</i>. He is (says Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD) about 5F. 3I. high<a id="footnotetag3" name="footnotetag3"></a><a href="#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a>: of a dark +complexion, and dark gray eyes: he has lost the hair from the top of +his head, which gives him the appearance of Age. Though remarkable for +talking little, so as to have the name of a man of few words, he is, +on occasion, a chearful companion: and though generally pensive and +melancholy, ever kind-hearted. +</p> + +<p> +"As a Husband and Father, his character is certainly exemplary. And few +men pass through Life so smoothly. Though commonly working with a number +of shop-mates, he has such a philosophical command of temper, that he +never disputes; nor concerns himself with the disputes of others, unless +they refer to him for a decision." +</p> + +<p> +Thus far the Account by his Brother: who had observ'd in a former +Letter, that with respect to <i>Temper</i>, what he should otherwise have to +speak of NATHANIEL, he had in a great measure said already of ROBERT. +Such a coincidence in mild and simple manners, amiable and good +disposition, is pleasing to remark any where: and additionally so when +it relates to Men who have each original and characteristic Genius; and +when the testimony is given by a Brother so capable of judging, and who +has had such continued experience from their very early Life, of the +Disposition and Character of both. +</p> + +<p> +Having spoken thus far of the AUTHOR, from the best authority, it +remains for me to say something briefly of these his WORKS. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Early in the <i>Spring</i> of 1801, I saw in MSS. HONINGTON-GREEN, and the +ESSAY ON WAR<a id="footnotetag4" name="footnotetag4"></a><a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a>. I communicated them to Mr. GEDGE, <i>Printer</i>, of BURY; +who had been a zealous and active Friend to THE FARMER'S BOY: on reading +them, he wanted no time for deliberation, but offer'd at once to print +them for the benefit of the Author, at his own risque. I had known his +accuracy as a Printer: of which, and of neat Typography, I flatter +myself this Publication will be a proof. I had no difficulty to adopt +the proposal: and gladly offer'd, on my part, what little preparation +(very little indeed it was) might be necessary of the MSS. for the +Press; (or rather in it's progress through it); and to revise and +correct the Proofs. +</p> + +<p> +My province has been quite of a similar kind in this instance as it +was in that of Mr. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD: little corrections, in point +of Orthography; and still fewer of Grammar: sometimes of Diction; and +sometimes of Versification. For some of the best of these emendations +I have been indebted to one, in mentioning of whom I should have had +an affectionate Pride: and have more in that Modesty which forbids the +mention. They are, as I have said, few of any kind: For of emendations I +have been anxiously sparing. Little was requisite: and more than was so +would have been blameable. I rely on the original MSS. being preserv'd: +which on this, as on the former occasion, will speak for itself. +</p> + +<p> +I have said what I thought of THE FARMER'S BOY. It is a truely +agricultural Poem: it's originality and vivid representation of +immediate Nature manifest themselves in the whole Design, and in every +page. It will live with the works of HESIOD and THEOCRITUS; of VIRGIL +and THOMSON. I was nearly as much assur'd of this from the first, and so +express'd myself, as the event could assure me. I will now say with the +same freedom what I think of the ESSAY ON WAR. +</p> + +<p> +I regard it as a Poem of extraordinary vigor and originality: in +Thought, Plan, Conduct, Language, and Versification. I think it has much +indeed of the philosophic character, poetic spirit, force of coloring, +energy and pathos, which distinguish LUCRETIUS. Of the justness and +spirit of the VERSIFICATION I have already spoken. +</p> + +<p> +The PRINCIPLE of the ESSAY ON WAR appears to me, I will own, more +paradoxical than I should think, to judge from their conduct, it can +appear to the ruling part at least of Mankind in general. I indulge the +hope and expectation that WAR shall one day be universally and finally +extinguish'd. But I will confess also, that appearances would tempt us +to apprehend that day is far distant. And while we make War for Sport on +useful, generous, inoffensive Animals, it is not easy to imagine that we +shall cease to make War on one another. +</p> + +<p> +But whether the Principle of the Poem be well or ill-founded, I can +hardly imagine any abstract proposition to be more poetically, more +forcibly, or more comprehensively maintain'd. And I am either ignorant +wherein Genius consists, or it is manifest in the Idea, the Style and +Numbers, the Design and Conduct of this Poem. +</p> + +<p> +Of HONINGTON GREEN I am to speak next. And here it may be right to +obviate some prejudice against the Poem, which, in the minds of several, +may arise from the subject. I am not an Enemy to Enclosures: if the +RIGHTS and INTERESTS of the POOR, and of SMALL OWNERS, be very carefully +guarded, an ENCLOSURE may be a common Benefit. However, it is very +liable to become otherwise. But be an Enclosure good or bad, (and every +Man has a right to his opinion, and to support it by argument, on this +subject and every other) there are particular circumstances and +considerations which stand clear of the scope of the general question. +The Spot which is the subject of the Ballad is less, I believe, than +Half an Acre. It did certainly ornament the Village; independent of a +just and laudable partiality in the Author. Thus it would have seem'd to +the casual glance of a stranger. To the BLOOMFIELDS every circumstance +gave it peculiar endearment. There the Author of 'THE FARMER'S BOY,' and +of these POEMS, first drew breath. There grew the first Daisies which +their feet pressed in childhood. On this little Green their Parents +look'd with delight: and the Children caught the affection; and learn'd +to love it as soon as they lov'd any thing. By it's smallness and it's +situation it was no object: and could have been left out of Enclosure +without detriment to the General Plan, or to any individual Interest. +I wish it had: and most who love Poetry, and respect Genius, and are +anxious to preserve the little innocent Gratifications of the Poor, +will have the same wish. +</p> + +<p> +As a poetical effusion, it strikes me that it has the tone, simplicity, +and sweetness, and pleasing Melancholy of the Ballad. There is a stroke +or two of indignant severity: but the general character is such as I +have describ'd. And with filial Gratitude and Love there is blended, +in the close, that turn for Reflection which is so remarkable in this +Author.... I wish'd and recommended that some at least of the ornaments +of 'THE FARMER'S BOY' should be sketches of <i>local scenery</i>: knowing +how much more interesting they would have been, and how much more +appropriate to the Poem. In that recommendation I was not successful: +but I am glad, in this instance, to see a faithful and agreeable Sketch +of <i>Honington-Green</i> from a very young pencil<a id="footnotetag5" name="footnotetag5"></a><a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a>. It will be remember'd, +at a far remote Period, that the double Cottage at the end of the Green +was the Birth-place of the BLOOMFIELDS. It is still, (and may it yet be +long so) the habitation of their <i>Mother</i>: and has been repair'd lately +by ROBERT. And I much doubt whether any House or Green will see two such +Poets born of the same Parents. +</p> + +<p> +THE CULPRIT is the next in this Collection, and I had not seen it, nor +was it written, when I saw the two first. They decided my Opinion; and +had no more appeared, they would have been publish'd alone; as they +abundantly deserved. +</p> + +<p> +THE CULPRIT strikes me as an original and highly affecting Poem. The +very attempt to sketch the successive conflicting feelings of one thus +circumstanc'd is no common effort. And what compass of thought; what +energy of expression! ... I do not always admit the justness of the +arguments. But it is a Soliloquy in <i>character</i>: and in judging of it, +as in all pieces of <i>representative</i> Poetry (as Mr. DYER, in his lately +publish'd ESSAY has well term'd it) the imagin'd situation ought to be +consider'd. And it strikes me as closing with a true and aweful Pathos: +not often equall'd. +</p> + +<p> +The YORKSHIRE DIP is, I think, the result of that active but melancholy +Fancy, which can travel far into views of Life and Nature from a slight +occasion. It has a mixture of the Sportive which deepens the impression +of it's melancholy Close. I could have wish'd, as I have said in a short +Note, the Conclusion had been otherwise. The sours of Life less offend +my Taste than its sweets delight it. But when I think what NATHANIEL +must have felt in passing through Life, I more respect the Chearfulness +and habitual Vigor of his Mind, than I am dispos'd to be out of humor +with occasional gloom. +</p> + +<p> +LOVE'S TRIUMPH differs as much in manner as in subject from those which +precede it. Yet a vein of pensive and philosophic thought flows here +also. The SONG OF BALDWIN is well adapted to soothe the fears and the +discontents of Poverty: and to convince those who have not learnt it, +that wealth, and rank, and power, and unlimited indulgence, are not such +Blessings as they are imagin'd to be at a distance: nor Poverty such an +Evil, that the first and best Blessings of Nature should be therefore +thrown aside in despair. +</p> + +<p> +I may doubt on the <i>expediency</i> of the SONG OF BALDWIN being in a +different measure; but I can not doubt of the general merit of the Poem. +</p> + +<p> +The PROVERBS, like other compositions of this kind, must rest chiefly on +their moral Justness, Utility, Simplicity, and Conciseness, rather than +on poetic Excellence: though neither in form nor coloring are they +deficient of that compos'd and grave Beauty which the Nature of the +Subject and Composition admits. +</p> + +<p> +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE contains the Principle of the ESSAY ON WAR, and of +a celebrated ESSAY ON POPULATION, which I dare say the Author never saw. +It is strong, characteristic; and original: and although in the measure +of the <i>humorous</i> Ballad, has much nerve and energy<a id="footnotetag6" name="footnotetag6"></a><a href="#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a>. +</p> + +<p> +I have now a Remark to make which relates generally to the +Versification. We may observe of HONINGTON GREEN, and most of the Poems +in rhyme in this Collection, that they are strongly accentuated: and if +red with a close attention to accent and emphasis, the rhythm is musical +and energetic; where to a careless Reader it might appear harsh and +untuneable. +</p> + +<p> +The LYRIC ELEGY which concludes this little Collection is, I think, +animated and pathetic in no common degree. On the Merits of VACCINE +INOCULATION I do not think myself qualify'd to offer an opinion. Great +Doubts have been entertain'd concerning it by <i>medical</i> Men of Abilities +and Experience. Objections apparently strong were urg'd; and of various +kinds. At present it has had Declarations in it's favor from among the +most distinguish'd of it's Opposers. And it seems to have little short +of a general reception in the <i>medical World</i>.... Time and Experience, +the great Test of Truth in such instances, must determine for or against +it. But, important as the Question is, poetical Merit is comparatively +independent on the correctness of a philosophic System or Hypothesis. +And reflecting on his former Losses and present Calamities, the Author +could not but feel a deep Interest in whatever seem'd likely to obviate +such an Evil to others. +</p> + +<p> +I have observ'd some rather striking <i>coincidences</i> with VIRGIL and +LUCRETIUS. I might have pointed out more; and to other <i>classic</i> +Authors. But I should have extended this Preface too far. At the same +time, such a concurrence in the Sentiments and Expressions of Genius in +very distant Ages, and under widely different Circumstances, is always +interesting, even where it can be resolv'd with Certainty, or +Probability, into IMITATION: and much more so, when, as in these Poems, +it is certain that it CAN NOT. +</p> + +<p> +I have very few Words more to say in presenting this little Volume to +the PUBLIC. Specimens they will find in it of such different kinds of +Composition, as the same individual rarely can attempt with success. Yet +through great diversity of Style, Dissimilarity of Measure, and Variety +of Sentiment and Subject, may be seen the same Mind: and Traces of the +same Manner, and that manner peculiarly characteristic...a mixture of +contemplative equanimity, of incidental gleams of vivacity; of energy +frequently pathetic, sometimes sarcastic, and not seldom sublime. And we +have here an additional proof, that a true poetic Spirit, in whatever +Breast it inhabits, will create Thoughts, Language, and Numbers, worthy +of the Muse, however unfavourable the occupation and habits of Life. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was not without his fears, however, lest it +should be thought, that, although THE MUSE can visit a SHEPHERD'S BOY, +there may be some employments which exclude her influence. That a TAYLOR +should be a POET, he doubted, might appear too startling an Assertion. +And he had said accordingly to his Brother GEORGE, in a Letter, when +this Publication was first going to Press, "I want you to exclude the +word <i>Taylor</i>. Let there be no such Word in the Book. But perhaps I am +too late. I know there is in the public Mind as great contempt for him +who bears the appellation of <i>Taylor</i>, as STERNE has made old SHANDY +have for SIMKIN, NECKEY, or TRISTRAM. How many CAESARS and POMPEYS, says +he, by mere inspiration of the names, have been rendered worthy of them? +And how many are there who might have done exceedingly well in the +World, had not their Characters and Spirits been totally depress'd and +<i>Nicodemiz'd</i>; and I will add (says Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD) <i>taylor'd</i> into +nothing? In the REHEARSAL, the Author, to make the most ridiculous +part of it still more ridiculous, tells us, that it was written to a +<i>Taylor</i>, and by a <i>Taylor's Wife</i>. And even the discerning SPECTATOR +has given into this common-place raillery in the Monkey's Letter to her +Mistress. He has made the Soul which inhabited Pug's Body, in recounting +the humiliating State it had formerly been in, say, that he had been a +<i>Taylor</i>, a Shrimp, and a Tom-tit. It is from these causes, as well as +from the habits and appearance contracted by a recluse and sedentary +Life, that, in the enlighten'd, as well as the ignorant, the ideas of +<i>Taylor</i> and <i>Insignificance</i> are inseparably link'd together." +</p> + +<p> +I prevail'd, notwithstanding, that this word, whose <i>anti-poetic</i> +influence is so dreaded, should be in the Book. About half a Century +ago, there seem'd a degree of incredulity as to the possibility of +Courage in a <i>Taylor</i>. ELLIOT'S LIGHT HORSE, at that time compos'd of +<i>Taylor-Volunteers</i>. effectually overcame that prejudice. It remain'd +to dissolve another still more irrational prepossession, that a <i>Taylor +cannot be a Poet</i>. And this Volume will be a victorious Host against an +Army of such Prejudices. Indeed the Force is greater than such a Combat +requires: for stubborn as other Prejudices may still be, our litterary +Prejudices have, in this Age, been rapidly giving way to Candour, +Reason, Common-Sense, and the Evidence of Fact. We have long known that +a Scotch <i>Plough-Boy</i> and a <i>Milk-Woman</i><a id="footnotetag7" name="footnotetag7"></a><a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a> could still be Poets of high +and almost singular Excellence. And if Improbability were any thing +against Fact, it would be far more improbable, that two Brothers should +be such Poets as ROBERT and NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD are, than that a Taylor +should be a Poet. It remains then for Prejudice to vanish like Mists +before the Sun: while the two BROTHERS sociably ascend PARNASSUS +together; higher than ever Brothers have climbed before: I might add, +each of them to an height which but few have ever reach'd<a id="footnotetag8" name="footnotetag8"></a><a href="#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a>. +</p> + +<p> +CAPEL LOFFT. +<br /> +<i>Troston-Hall, 2 Jan: 1803.</i> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote1" name="footnote1"></a> +<b>Footnote 1</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a> +<p> +I had said, and certainly upon full authority, 23rd April; +which the Author his-self believ'd to be the Day: and had remarked +accordingly it was a Day distinguish'd by the <i>Birth</i> and <i>Death</i> +of SHAKESPERE. But Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD discover'd and immediately +communicated the mistake as to the Day. Thus we lose an interesting +coincidence: but we gain what is of greater value; a just and prompt +sacrifice to truth and candor. C.L.</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote2" name="footnote2"></a> +<b>Footnote 2</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag2">(return)</a> +<p>Who is mention'd in the <i>Preface</i> to <i>the Farmer's Boy</i>. +C.L.</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote3" name="footnote3"></a> +<b>Footnote 3</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag3">(return)</a> +<p> +If "<i>True natural Greatness all consists in height</i>," the +Family of the <i>Bloomfields</i>, is most unfortunate. The Father Mr. <i>George +Bloomfield</i> had 2 Inches less of this Greatness. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote4" name="footnote4"></a> +<b>Footnote 4</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag4">(return)</a> +<p> +I had a hint from both the Brothers, GEORGE and ROBERT, +that NATHANIEL had a turn for Poetry, and had written what they believ'd +would much please me. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote5" name="footnote5"></a> +<b>Footnote 5</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag5">(return)</a> +<p> +A name-sake and relation of the Author: of the Age, as I +understand, of about 14. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote6" name="footnote6"></a> +<b>Footnote 6</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag6">(return)</a> +<p> +I am half tempted to say of it +</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> <i>A Fist may hit him who a Sermon flies.</i></p> +</div></div> + + +<p> +Ridiculum aeri Fortius et melius magnas quandoque fecat res. C.L. +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote7" name="footnote7"></a> +<b>Footnote 7</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag7">(return)</a> +<p>BURNS, and Mrs. YEARSLEY.</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote8" name="footnote8"></a> +<b>Footnote 8</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag8">(return)</a> +<p> +<i>Pauci quos aequus amavit Jupiter</i>, atque ardens evexit +ad aethera Virtus, Felices, potuere! +</p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + +<h2> + CONTENTS +</h2> + + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>ESSAY ON WAR</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>HONINGTON GREEN</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>THE CULPRIT</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>YORKSHIRE DIP</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>LOVE'S TRIUMPH</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>PROVERBS OF THREESCORE</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>MORE BREAD AND CHEESE</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER</p> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + ESSAY ON WAR +</h2> + + + + +<p> +[War for room required by encreased Population.—With Arts of Use +and Comfort spring those of War.—Blessings of the Infant State of +Society.—Peace cannot last beyond the Infancy of Society.—War +defined to preserve the equilibrium of Population.—War between hords +of emigrating Stranger Nations.—Invasions on account of violated +Women.—Love the strongest and most natural cause of War.—Violence of +conflicting Passions at sight of an Enemy.—Solitary wounded Combatant +amid the Dying and Dead.—Female Friends seeking for Dead or Wounded +Relatives.—Morning after the Battle—Sympathy—Compassion.—Long +remembrance of the Horrors of War.—Gunpowder; it's tremendous +effects.—Gunpowder, a humane discovery.—Castles &c. proofs of the +continued prevalence of War.—Men quit a peaceful Country to seek War +abroad.—History full of War.—Slavish Peace more cruel and more horrid +than War.—Obligations of Peace to the active Virtues of War.—Havock +of Peace more shocking than that of War.—War between Man and the rest +of the animal Creation.—War of the Elements and natural +Powers.—Recapitulation.... Conclusion.] +</p> + +<hr /> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>Man's sad necessity, destructive War,</p> +<p>Sweeps to the grave the surplus of his sons,</p> +<p>Where'er the kindly clime and soil invite</p> +<p>To Love; and multiply the Human Race.</p> +<p class="i2"> Around the World, in every happier spot</p> +<p>Where Earth spontaneous gives nutritious fruits.</p> +<p>Her softest verdure courting human feet,</p> +<p>And mossy grot's, beneath protecting shades,</p> +<p>The Stranger's envy, the Possessor's pride;</p> +<p>There, as increasing numbers throng each bower.</p> +<p>Frequent and fatal rivalships arise;</p> +<p>And ruthless War erects his hideous crest.</p> +<p class="i2"> Soon as Appropriation's iron hand</p> +<p>Assays to grasp the Produce of the Earth;</p> +<p>And youths assert hereditary power,</p> +<p>Propriety exclusive, and in arms</p> +<p>League to defend their patrimonial rights,</p> +<p>Indisputable claim of Fruits and Fields</p> +<p>Contending, oft their massive clubs they raise</p> +<p>Against each other's life: often, alas,</p> +<p>The needy cravings of the unportion'd poor</p> +<p>Provoke their jealous wrath; relentlessly</p> +<p>Tenacious of their store, they shut him out,</p> +<p>'Midst desart Famine, and ferocious Beasts,</p> +<p>To guard his life and till the steril soil;</p> +<p>And thus extend the range of human feet.</p> +<p class="i2"> Still as Experience, in her tardy school,</p> +<p>Instructs the Shepherd and the Husbandman</p> +<p>To great increase their flocks and herds to rear,</p> +<p>To till the ground, and plant the fruitful tree</p> +<p>In slow progression rising into use,</p> +<p>Nurtur'd by Her the infant Arts appear.</p> +<p>While sage Experience thus teaches Man</p> +<p>The useful and the pleasant Arts of Life,</p> +<p>She in harsh lectures, in the frequent broil,</p> +<p>Enjoins her Pupil still to cultivate</p> +<p>The fatal, necessary Art of War.</p> +<p class="i2"> The Artizan, who from metallic ores</p> +<p>Forms the sharp implements to dress the glebe,</p> +<p>And prune the wild luxuriance of the tree; ...</p> +<p>By him is made the sword, the spear, the shaft,</p> +<p>By Man worn to defend him against Man.</p> +<p class="i2"> Most bless'd the country where kind Nature's face</p> +<p>In unsophisticated Freedom smiles:</p> +<p>Happy the tenants of primeval days</p> +<p>When young society is in it's spring:</p> +<p>Where there is room and food for millions more,</p> +<p>Love knows no check, the votaries of Love,</p> +<p>The happy votaries of Wedded Love,</p> +<p>Know not the curse of peopled, polish'd, times:</p> +<p>The curse to wish their children may be few.</p> +<p class="i2"> Sweet converse binds the cords of social love;</p> +<p>When the rude noise and gestures that ere while</p> +<p>Imperfectly express'd the labouring thought;</p> +<p>By social concourse are improv'd to Speech:</p> +<p>Speech, reasoning Man's distinguishing perfection;</p> +<p>Speech, the inestimable vehicle</p> +<p>Of mental light, and intellectual bliss;</p> +<p>Whence the fair fruits of Holy Friendship grow,</p> +<p>Presenting to fond Hope's enamour'd sight</p> +<p>The fairy prospect of perpetual Peace.</p> +<p>Advanc'd Society's prudential Laws,</p> +<p>The moral virtues of the enlighten'd mind,</p> +<p>And all the ties of Interest and of Love,</p> +<p>In vain conspire to nurse their favourite Peace,</p> +<p>And banish dire Immanity and War.</p> +<p>Strong Nature's bent, continual increase,</p> +<p>Still counteracts Humanity's fond wish,</p> +<p>The perpetuity of Peace, and Love;</p> +<p>Alas! progressive Increase cannot last.</p> +<p>Soon mourns the encumber'd land it's human load:</p> +<p>Too soon arrives the inauspicious hour;</p> +<p>The Natal Hour of the unhappy Man,</p> +<p>Who all his life goes mourning up and down</p> +<p>That there is neither bough, nor mud, nor straw</p> +<p>That he may take to make himself a hut;</p> +<p>No, not in all his native land a twig</p> +<p>That he may take, nor spot of green grass turf,</p> +<p>Where without trespass he may set his foot.</p> +<p>Now Want and Poverty wage War with Love;</p> +<p>And hard the conflict: horrible the thought,</p> +<p>That Love, who boasts of his all-conquering impulse,</p> +<p>Should have to mourn abortive energies...</p> +<p>But in proportion as Mankind increase,</p> +<p>So evils multiply: till Nature's self,</p> +<p>(The native passions of the human mind)</p> +<p>Engender War; which thins, and segregates,</p> +<p>And rectifies the balance of the world:</p> +<p>As thick-sown plants in the vegetable world,</p> +<p>With stretching branches wage continual War;</p> +<p>Each tender bud shrinks from the foreign touch</p> +<p>With a degree of sensitive perception;</p> +<p>Till one deforms, o'er-tops, and kills the other.</p> +<p class="i2"> Like Summer swarms, that quit their native hives,</p> +<p>The offspring of increasing families,</p> +<p>Who find no room beneath their father's roofs,</p> +<p>No patrimony nor employ at home,</p> +<p>Colleagu'd in bands explore the desart wilds,</p> +<p>To seek adventures; or to seek their food:</p> +<p>If chance they meet with rovers (like themselves)</p> +<p>Whose home is far away in distant vales,</p> +<p>Behind the mountains, or beyond the lake;</p> +<p>Instinctively they war where'er they meet:</p> +<p>The friendly parley cannot intervene;</p> +<p>The unknown tongue does but create alarm:</p> +<p>With jealous fears, stern looks, and brandish'd arms,</p> +<p>They stand aloof: as birds of distant groves</p> +<p>At the strange note prepare for instant War.</p> +<p class="i2"> At first they skirmishing dispute the right</p> +<p>Of hunting in the unappropriate waste:</p> +<p>But every onset aggravates their hate;</p> +<p>Till each increasing force, whetting their swords,</p> +<p>With purpos'd malice seeking out the foe,</p> +<p>Alternate by reprisal and revenge,</p> +<p>Doubly compensate each discomfiture,</p> +<p>Yet seek not to attack each-other's home,</p> +<p>Where Age, and Infancy, in safety dwell:</p> +<p>They war but with freebooters: private Peace</p> +<p>And Female Covert, Valour scorns to assail.</p> +<p>But when in evil hour some female hand,</p> +<p>Whether by force of Love, or force of Arms,</p> +<p>Is led across the desart by the Foe;</p> +<p>The jealous fury kindles to a flame:</p> +<p>No longer sacred the domestic hearth:</p> +<p>Fire, Death, and Devastation, mark their way,</p> +<p>And all the horrid crimes of savage War.</p> +<p class="i2"> Now War becomes the business of the State:</p> +<p>The most humane, the most pacific men,</p> +<p>Must arm for War, or lose all they hold dear:</p> +<p>The sorrows of the Aged, Infant cries,</p> +<p>And Female Tears, resistlessly prevail:</p> +<p>Can gentlest natures be in love with Peace,</p> +<p>When Love, most tender Love, excites to War?</p> +<p>No.... When some lov'd and honour'd youth distrest'd,</p> +<p>Raising his head amongst his arm'd compeers,</p> +<p>Tells that the well-known honourable Maid,</p> +<p>The Virgin Mistress of his dearest hopes,</p> +<p>Is ravish'd from him, borne by force away;</p> +<p>Though pierc'd with grief, yet nobly he exclaims,</p> +<p>'Think not I wish to embroil you in my fate:</p> +<p>'For though not one of you espouse my cause,</p> +<p>'I singly will attempt the desperate deed.</p> +<p>'Farewell: I go to find my Love, or die!'</p> +<p class="i2"> Silent and motionless the legions stand,</p> +<p>By looks examining each-other's heart:</p> +<p>But soon a murmur through the ranks proceeds,</p> +<p>Swelling as quickly a terrific roar;</p> +<p>Like heavy waters breaking from their mounds,</p> +<p>A long, and loud, and inarticulate shout,</p> +<p>While every weapon vibrates in the air,</p> +<p>And hisses it's fierce vengeance at the foe.</p> +<p class="i2"> The righteous cause admits of no delay;</p> +<p>No tardy foot impedes the immediate march:</p> +<p>The Enemy, not taken by surprise,</p> +<p>Wak'd by the watchful fears of conscious guilt,</p> +<p>On their frontiers await the coming foe.</p> +<p class="i2"> Now at the near approach of threatening Death,</p> +<p>Full many a thinking, sighing, aching heart,</p> +<p>Indulges secretly the hopeless wish</p> +<p>For Life, and Peace.... Alas! it cannot be:</p> +<p>To advance is to encounter dreadful danger;</p> +<p>But to recede, inevitable death;</p> +<p>His own associates would deal the blow:</p> +<p class="i2"> Thus led by Fate, behold upon the plain,</p> +<p>The adverse bands in view, and in advance.</p> +<p>Now Fear, Self-pity, and affected Courage,</p> +<p>Speak in their hideous shouts with voice scarce human;</p> +<p>Like that which issues from his hollow throat</p> +<p>Who sleeping bellows in a frightful dream.</p> +<p>More near their glaring eye-balls flashing meet;</p> +<p>Terror and Rage distorting every face,</p> +<p>Inflame each-other into trembling fury.</p> +<p class="i2"> Soft-ey'd Humanity, oh! veil thy sight!</p> +<p>Tis not in Rationality to view</p> +<p>(Even in thought) the dire ensuing scene;</p> +<p>For Madness, Madness reigns, and urges men</p> +<p>To deeds that Rationality disowns.</p> +<p class="i2"> Now here and there about the horrid Field,</p> +<p>Striding across the dying and the dead,</p> +<p>Stalks up a man by strength superior,</p> +<p>Or skill and prowess in the arduous fight,</p> +<p>Preserv'd alive: ... fainting he looks around;</p> +<p>Fearing pursuit, nor caring to pursue.</p> +<p>The supplicating voice of bitterest moans,</p> +<p>Contortions of excruciating pain,</p> +<p>The shriek of torture and the groan of death,</p> +<p>Surround him; and as Night her mantle spreads,</p> +<p>To veil the horrors of the mourning Field,</p> +<p>With cautious step shaping his devious way,</p> +<p>He seeks a covert where to hide and rest:</p> +<p>At every leaf that rustles in the breeze</p> +<p>Starting, he grasps his sword; and every nerve</p> +<p>Is ready strain'd, for combat or for flight.</p> +<p class="i2"> Thus list'ning to ward off approaching foes,</p> +<p>A distant whispering, fighting, murmuring sound</p> +<p>Salutes his ear, and to his throbbing heart</p> +<p>Soft tidings tells of tenderness and love.</p> +<p>For on that fatal day of vengeful ire.</p> +<p>At fearful distance following the host,</p> +<p>From either country came a female throng;</p> +<p>And now beneath the covert of the night</p> +<p>Advancing, guided by the voice of woe,</p> +<p>Where on the earth the wounded mourners lay,</p> +<p>With trembling steps and fearful whispering voice,</p> +<p>Each seeks, and calls him whom she came to seek:</p> +<p>And many a fugitive, whom force or fear</p> +<p>Had driven from the Field, steals softly back,</p> +<p>Anxious to know the fate of some lov'd friend.</p> +<p>Mutual fears appal the mingled group,</p> +<p>Starting alternate at the unknown tongue:</p> +<p>They fear a foe in each uncertain form</p> +<p>That through the gloom imperfectly appears.</p> +<p>The mournful horrors of the doleful night</p> +<p>Melt every heart: ... and when the morning's beam</p> +<p>Shews the sad scene, and gives an interview,</p> +<p>Resentment, that worst torment of the mind,</p> +<p>Resentment ceases, satiate wrath subsides.</p> +<p>Woman is present: and so strong the charm</p> +<p>Of weeping Woman's fascinating tears,</p> +<p>That though surviving Heroes' unwash'd hands</p> +<p>Still grasp the falchion of horrid hue,</p> +<p>And though their fallen brethren from the ground</p> +<p>May seem to call for Vengeance from their hands,</p> +<p>The impulse of Revenge is felt no more;</p> +<p>No more the strange attire, the foreign tongue</p> +<p>Creates alarm: for Nature's-self has writ</p> +<p>In every face; where every eye can read</p> +<p>Repentant Sorrow, and forgiving Love.</p> +<p>Their mingled tears wash the lamented dead:</p> +<p>On every wound they pour soft Pity's balm:</p> +<p>Ere Sorrow's tears are dried, they feel the spring</p> +<p>Of new-born joys, and each expanding heart</p> +<p>Contemplates future scenes of Peace and Love.</p> +<p class="i2"> Long, even as long as room and food abound,</p> +<p>They interchange their friendly offices</p> +<p>For mutual good; reciprocally kind:</p> +<p>And much they wonder that they e'er were foes.</p> +<p>Still War's terrific name is kept alive:</p> +<p>Tradition, pointing to the rusty arms</p> +<p>That hang on high, informs each list'ning youth</p> +<p>How erst in fatal fields their Grandsires fell;</p> +<p>Childhood attentive hears the tragic tale;</p> +<p>And learns to shudder at the name of War.</p> +<p class="i2"> GUNPOWDER! let the Soldier's Pean rise,</p> +<p>Where e'er thy name or thundering voice is heard:</p> +<p>Let him who, fated to the needful trade,</p> +<p>Deals out the adventitious shafts of Death,</p> +<p>Rejoice in thee; and hail with loudest shouts</p> +<p>The auspicious era when deep-searching Art</p> +<p>From out the hidden things in Nature's store</p> +<p>Cull'd thy tremendous powers, and tutor'd Man</p> +<p>To chain the unruly element of Fire</p> +<p>At his controul, to wait his potent touch:</p> +<p>To urge his missile bolts of sudden Death,</p> +<p>And thunder terribly his vengeful wrath.</p> +<p>Thy mighty engines and gigantic towers</p> +<p>With frowning aspect awe the trembling World.</p> +<p>Destruction, bursting from thy sudden blaze</p> +<p>Hath taught the Birds to tremble at the sound;</p> +<p>And Man himself, thy terror's boasted lord,</p> +<p>Within the blacken'd hollow of thy tube,</p> +<p>Affrighted sees the darksome shades of Death.</p> +<p>Not only mourning groves, but human tears,</p> +<p>The weeping Widow's tears, the Orphan's cries,</p> +<p>Sadly deplore that e'er thy powers were known.</p> +<p>Yet let thy Advent be the Soldier's song,</p> +<p>No longer doom'd to grapple with the Foe</p> +<p>With Teeth and Nails—When close in view, and in</p> +<p>Each-other's grasp, to grin, and hack, and stab;</p> +<p>Then tug his horrid weapon from one breast</p> +<p>To hide it in another:—with clear hands</p> +<p>He now expertly poizing thy bright tube,</p> +<p>At distance kills, unknowing and unknown;</p> +<p>Sees not the wound he gives, nor hears the shriek</p> +<p>Of him whose breast he pierces.... GUNPOWDER!</p> +<p>(O! let Humanity rejoice) how much</p> +<p>The Soldier's fearful work is humaniz'd,</p> +<p>Since thy momentous birth—stupendous power.</p> +<p class="i2"> In Britain, where the hills and fertile plains,</p> +<p>Like her historic page, are overspread</p> +<p>With vestiges of War, the Shepherd Boy</p> +<p>Climbs the green hillock to survey his flock;</p> +<p>Then sweetly sleeps upon his favourite hill,</p> +<p>Not conscious that his bed's a Warrior's Tomb.</p> +<p class="i2"> The ancient Mansions, deeply moated round,</p> +<p>Where, in the iron Age of Chivalry,</p> +<p>Redoubted Barons wag'd their little Wars;</p> +<p>The strong Entrenchments and enormous Mounds,</p> +<p>Rais'd to oppose the fierce, perfidious Danes;</p> +<p>And still more ancient traces that remain</p> +<p>Of Dykes and Camps, from the far distant date</p> +<p>When minstrel Druids wak'd the soul of War,</p> +<p>And rous'd to arms old Albion's hardy sons,</p> +<p>To stem the tide of Roman Tyranny: ...</p> +<p>War's footsteps, thus imprinted on the ground,</p> +<p>Shew that in Britain he, from age to age,</p> +<p>Has rear'd his horrid head, and raging reign'd.</p> +<p class="i2"> Long on the margins of the silver Tweed</p> +<p>Opposing Ensigns wav'd; War's clarion</p> +<p>Dreadfully echo'd down the winding stream,</p> +<p>Where now sweet Peace and Unity reside:</p> +<p>The happy peasant of Tweed's smiling dale,</p> +<p>Whene'er his spade disturbs a Soldier's bones,</p> +<p>With shudd'ring horror ruminates on War;</p> +<p>Then deeper hides the awful spectacle,</p> +<p>Blessing the peaceful days in which he lives</p> +<p class="i2"> Since Peace has bless'd the villages on Tweed,</p> +<p>And War has ceas'd to drive his iron car</p> +<p>On Britain's shore, what myriads of men</p> +<p>Over the Eastern and the Western Seas</p> +<p>Have follow'd War, and found untimely graves.</p> +<p>Where'er the jarring interests of States</p> +<p>Excite the brave to' advance their native land</p> +<p>By deeds of arms, Britons are foremost found.</p> +<p>The sprightly bands, hast'ning from place to place,</p> +<p>Gayly carousing in their gay attire,</p> +<p>Invite, not force the train of heedless youths,</p> +<p>Who croud to share their jollity and joy:</p> +<p>To martial music dancing into death,</p> +<p>They fell their Freedom for a holiday;</p> +<p>And with the Rich and Great 'tis Glory charms,</p> +<p>And Beauty's favour that rewards the Brave.</p> +<p class="i2"> All the historic Records of the World</p> +<p>Are little more than histories of Wars;</p> +<p>Shewing how many thousands War destroy'd,</p> +<p>The time, the place, and some few great ones' names.</p> +<p>The mournful remnants of demolished States,</p> +<p>The Greek, the Roman, and long-exil'd Jew;</p> +<p>Are living monuments of wasting War's</p> +<p>Annihilating power: and while they mourn</p> +<p>Their Grandeur faded, and their Power extinct,</p> +<p>To every State <i>memento mori</i> sounds.</p> +<p>From age to age the habitable World</p> +<p>Has been a constant theatre of War:</p> +<p>In every land with Nature's gifts most blest,</p> +<p>Frequent and fatal Wars destructive rage.</p> +<p>So bland is fair Britannia's genial clime,</p> +<p>So liberal her all-protecting Laws,</p> +<p>So generous the spirit of her Sons,</p> +<p>So fond, so chaste, her Daughters virtuous love,</p> +<p>That human offspring still redundant grows,</p> +<p>And free-born Britons must contend for life.</p> +<p class="i2"> O! envy not the lands where Slaves reside,</p> +<p>Though their proud Tyrants boast of <i>peaceful</i> reign,</p> +<p>Where hard Oppression, freezing genial love,</p> +<p>Performs the work of War in embryo:</p> +<p>Let not mistaken fondness doat on Peace,</p> +<p>Preserv'd by arts more horrid far than War! ...</p> +<p>Let the dull languor of the pale Chinese</p> +<p>Desert their Infants, and their <i>Peace</i> enjoy!</p> +<p>But, O! let Britons still in Love and War</p> +<p>Exert the generous ardour of the soul;</p> +<p>Protect the Fair, and foster Infancy.</p> +<p class="i2"> By strenuous enterprize, and arduous toils,</p> +<p>Is public safety purchas'd and secur'd.</p> +<p>Negative merit, "I have done no harm,"</p> +<p>Is an inglorious boast: shall he who sits</p> +<p>Secure, enjoying Plenty in the lap</p> +<p>Of Ease, vaunt his recumbent Virtues? ... He</p> +<p>Brand with harsh epithets the Warrior's toils?</p> +<p>While 'tis to them he owes sincerest thanks</p> +<p>For Peace and Safety, that are earn'd in War....</p> +<p>As well might he who eats the flesh of Lambs,</p> +<p>And smacks the ichor in a savoury dish,</p> +<p>Boast his humanity, and say "My hand</p> +<p>Ne'er slew a Lamb;" and censure as a crime,</p> +<p>The Butcher's cruel, necessary trade.</p> +<p class="i2"> In Battle, the chance-medley game of Death,</p> +<p>Where every one still hopes 'till he expires,</p> +<p>Less horror shocks the mind contemplative,</p> +<p>Than where, in slow procession's solemn pace,</p> +<p>Doom'd wretches meet their destin'd fate in bonds,</p> +<p>Who know the moment to expect the blow,</p> +<p>And count the moments 'till that moment comes:</p> +<p>Or where Oppression wages War, in Peace,</p> +<p>On the defenceless: on the hapless man</p> +<p>Who holds his breath but by another's will:</p> +<p>Whose Life is only one long cruel Death! ...</p> +<p>Hardly he fares, and hopelessly he toils;</p> +<p>And when his driver's anger, or caprice,</p> +<p>Or wanton cruelty, inflicts a blow,</p> +<p>Not daring to look angry at the whip,</p> +<p>Oh! see him meekly clasp his hands and bow</p> +<p>To every stroke: no lurid deathful scene</p> +<p>In Battle's rage, so racks the feeling heart;</p> +<p>Not all the thunders of infuriate War,</p> +<p>Disploding mines, and crafting, bursting bombs,</p> +<p>Are half so horrid as the sounding lash</p> +<p>That echoes through the Carribean groves.</p> +<p class="i2"> Incessant is the War of Human Wit,</p> +<p>Oppos'd to bestial strength; and variously</p> +<p>Successful: in these happy fertile climes,</p> +<p>Man still maintains his surreptitious power;</p> +<p>Reigns o'er the Brutes, and, with the voice of Fate,</p> +<p>Says "This to-day, and that to-morrow dies."</p> +<p>Though here our Shambles blazon the Renown,</p> +<p>The Victory, and Rule, of lordly Man;</p> +<p>Far wider tracts within the Torrid Zone</p> +<p>Own no such Lord: where Sol's intenser rays</p> +<p>Create in bestial hearts more fervid fires,</p> +<p>And deadlier poisons arm the Serpent's tooth;</p> +<p>In gloomy shades, impassable to Man,</p> +<p>Where matted foliage exclude the Sun,</p> +<p>The torpid Birds that crawl from bough to bough</p> +<p>Utter their notes of terror: while beneath</p> +<p>Fury and Venom, couch'd in murky dens,</p> +<p>Hissing and yelling, guard the hideous gloom.</p> +<p>O'er dreary wastes, untrod by human feet,</p> +<p>Without controul the lordly Lion reigns;</p> +<p>And every creature trembles at his voice:</p> +<p>When risen from his den, he prances forth,</p> +<p>Extends his talons, shakes his flaky mane,</p> +<p>Then whurrs his tufted tail, and stooping low</p> +<p>His wide mouth near the ground, his dreadful roar</p> +<p>Makes all the desart tremble: he proclaims</p> +<p>His ire—proclaims his strong necessity;</p> +<p>And that surprise or artifice he scorns.</p> +<p class="i2"> Unskill'd, alas! in philosophic lore,</p> +<p>Unbless'd with scientific erudition;</p> +<p>How can I sing of elemental War,</p> +<p>Or the contending powers of opposite</p> +<p>Attractions, that impel, and poize, and guide,</p> +<p>The ever-rolling Spheres: Animal War,</p> +<p>The flux of Life, devouring and devour'd,</p> +<p>Ceaseless in every tribe, through Earth, and Air,</p> +<p>And Ocean, transcends my utmost ken.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"> From obvious truths my Song has aim'd to shew</p> +<p>That War is an inevitable Ill;</p> +<p>An Ill through Nature's various Realms diffus'd;</p> +<p>An Ill subservient to the General Good.</p> +<p class="i2"> With sympathetic sense of human woes</p> +<p>Deeply impress'd, the melancholy Muse</p> +<p>With modesty asserts this mournful Truth:</p> +<p>'Tis not in human wisdom to avert,</p> +<p>Though every feeling heart must sure lament,</p> +<p>The SAD NECESSITY of FATAL WAR.</p> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + ELEGY +</h2> + + + +<h3> +ON THE ENCLOSURE OF HONINGTON GREEN. +</h3> + + +<p> +[Motives of Enclosure.—Natural Pleasures and humble Convenience lost by +it.—Recollections of the Spot.... The Mother.—The Father.—Character +of his Mind.—The Widow.... Maternal Cares.—The Green.... It's Beauties +and Pleasures.—The Enclosure in general less an object to the +Poor.—Under whatever Change the Man will adapt itself.—The new Scene +will find it's Admirers.—Pleasures are as the Mind and it's Habits.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Improvement extends it's domain;</p> +<p class="i2"> The Shepherds of Britain deplore</p> + <p> That the Coulter has furrow'd each plain,</p> +<p class="i2"> And their calling is needful no more.</p> + <p> "Enclosing Land doubles its use;</p> +<p class="i2"> When cultur'd, the heath and the moor</p> + <p> Will the Riches of Ceres produce,</p> +<p class="i2"> Yet feed as large flocks as before."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Such a lucrative maxim as this</p> +<p class="i2"> The Lords of the Land all pursue,</p> + <p> For who such advantage wou'd miss?</p> +<p class="i2"> Self-int'rest we all keep in view.</p> + <p> By it, they still more wealth amass,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who possess'd great abundance before;</p> + <p> It gives pow'r to the Great, but alas!</p> +<p class="i2"> Still poorer it renders the Poor.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Taste spreads, her refinements around,</p> +<p class="i2"> Enriching her favourite Land</p> + <p> With prospects of beautified ground,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where, cinctur'd, the spruce Villas stand;</p> + <p> On the causeways, that never are foul,</p> +<p class="i2"> Marshal'd bands may with measur'd pace tread;</p> + <p> The soft Car of Voluptuousness roll,</p> +<p class="i2"> And the proud Steed of Greatness parade.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Those fenc'd ways that so even are made,</p> +<p class="i2"> The pedestrian traveler bemoans;</p> + <p> He no more the green carpet may tread,</p> +<p class="i2"> But plod on, 'midst the gravel and stones:</p> + <p> And if he would rest with his load,</p> +<p class="i2"> No green hillock presents him a seat,</p> + <p> But long, hard, tiresome sameness of road</p> +<p class="i2"> Fatigues both the eye and the feet.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Sighs speak the poor Labourers' pain,</p> +<p class="i2"> While the new mounds and fences they rear,</p> + <p> Intersecting their dear native plain,</p> +<p class="i2"> To divide to each rich Man his share;</p> + <p> It cannot but grieve them to see,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where so freely they rambled before,</p> + <p> What a bare narrow track is left free</p> +<p class="i2"> To the foot of the unportion'd Poor.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> The proud City's gay wealthy train.</p> +<p class="i2"> Who nought but refinements adore,</p> + <p> May wonder to hear me complain</p> +<p class="i2"> That Honington Green is no more;</p> + <p> But if to the Church you e'er went,</p> +<p class="i2"> If you knew what the village has been,</p> + <p> You will sympathize, while I lament</p> +<p class="i2"> The Enclosure of Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 7</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> That no more upon Honington Green</p> +<p class="i2"> Dwells the Matron whom most I revere,</p> + <p> If by pert observation unseen,</p> +<p class="i2"> I e'en now could indulge a fond tear.</p> + <p> E'er her bright Morn of Life was o'ercast,</p> +<p class="i2"> When my senses first woke to the scene,</p> + <p> Some short happy hours she had past</p> +<p class="i2"> On the margin of Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 8</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Her Parents with Plenty were blest,</p> +<p class="i2"> And nume'rous her Children, and young,</p> + <p> Youth's Blossoms her cheek yet possest,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Melody woke when she sung:</p> + <p> A Widow so youthful to leave,</p> +<p class="i2"> (Early clos'd the blest days he had seen)</p> + <p> My Father was laid in his grave,</p> +<p class="i2"> In the Church-yard on Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 9</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> I faintly remember the Man,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who died when I was but a Child;</p> + <p> But far as my young mind could scan,</p> +<p class="i2"> His manners were gentle and mild:</p> + <p> He won infant ears with his lore,</p> +<p class="i2"> Nor let young ideas run wild,</p> + <p> Tho' his hand the severe rod of pow'r</p> +<p class="i2"> Never sway'd o'er a trembling Child.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 10</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Not anxiously careful for pelf,</p> +<p class="i2"> Melancholic and thoughtful, his mind</p> + <p> Look'd inward and dwelt on itself,</p> +<p class="i2"> Still pensive, pathetic, and kind;</p> + <p> Yet oft in despondency drown'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> He from friends, and from converse would fly.</p> + <p> In weeping a luxury found,</p> +<p class="i2"> And reliev'd others' woes with a sigh.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 11</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> In solitude long would he stay,</p> +<p class="i2"> And long lock'd in silence his tongue;</p> + <p> Then he humm'd an elegiac lay,</p> +<p class="i2"> Or a Psalm penitential he sung:</p> + <p> But if with his Friends he regal'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> His Mirth, as his Griefs, knew no bounds;</p> + <p> In no Tale of Mark Sargent he sail'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Nor in all Robin Hood's Derry-downs.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 12</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Thro' the poor Widow's long lonely years,</p> +<p class="i2"> Her Father supported us all:</p> + <p> Yet sure she was loaded with cares,</p> +<p class="i2"> Being left with six Children so small.</p> + <p> Meagre Want never lifted her latch;</p> +<p class="i2"> Her cottage was still tight and clean;</p> + <p> And the casement beneath it's low thatch</p> +<p class="i2"> Commanded a view o'er the Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 13</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> O'er the Green, where so often she blest</p> +<p class="i2"> The return of a Husband or Son,</p> + <p> Coming happily home to their rest,</p> +<p class="i2"> At night, when their labour, was done:</p> + <p> Where so oft in her earlier years,</p> +<p class="i2"> She, with transport maternal, has seen</p> + <p> (While plying her housewifely cares)</p> +<p class="i2"> Her Children all safe on the Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 14</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> The Green was our pride through the year,</p> +<p class="i2"> For in Spring, when the wild flow'rets blew,</p> + <p> Tho' many rich pastures were near,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where Cowslips and Daffodils grew;</p> + <p> And tho' such gallant flow'rs were our choice,</p> +<p class="i2"> It was bliss interrupted by Fear—</p> + <p> The Fear of their Owner's dread voice,</p> +<p class="i2"> Harshly bawling "You've no business here."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 15</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> While the Green, tho' but Daisies it's boast,</p> +<p class="i2"> Was free as the Flow'rs to the Bee;</p> + <p> In all seasons the Green we lov'd most,</p> +<p class="i2"> Because on the Green we were free;</p> + <p> 'Twas the prospect that first met my eyes,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Memory still blesses the scene;</p> + <p> For early my heart learnt to prize</p> +<p class="i2"> The Freedom of Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 16</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> No Peasant had pin'd at his lot,</p> +<p class="i2"> Tho' new fences the lone Heath enclose:</p> + <p> For, alas! the blest days are forgot,</p> +<p class="i2"> When poor Men had their Sheep and their Cows.</p> + <p> Still had Labour been blest with Content,</p> +<p class="i2"> Still Competence happy had been,</p> + <p> Nor Indigence utter'd a plaint,</p> +<p class="i2"> Had Avarice spar'd but the Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 17</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Not Avarice itself could be mov'd</p> +<p class="i2"> By desire of a morsel so small:</p> + <p> It could not be lucre he lov'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> But to rob the poor folk of their all.</p> + <p> He in wantonness ope'd his wide jaws,</p> +<p class="i2"> As a Shark may disport with the Fry;</p> + <p> Or a Lion, when licking his paws,</p> +<p class="i2"> May wantonly snap at a Fly.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 18</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Could there live such an envious Man,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who endur'd not the halcyon scene?</p> + <p> When the infantine Peasantry ran,</p> +<p class="i2"> And roll'd on the daisy-deck'd Green:</p> + <p> Ah! sure 'twas fell Envy's despite,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest Indigence tasted of Bliss,</p> + <p> That sternly decreed they've no right</p> +<p class="i2"> To innocent pleasure like this.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 19</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Tho' the Youth of to-day must deplore—</p> +<p class="i2"> The rough mounds that now sadden the scene,</p> + <p> The vain stretch of Misanthropy's Power,</p> +<p class="i2"> The Enclosure of Honington Green.</p> + <p> Yet when not a green turf is left free,</p> +<p class="i2"> When not one odd nook is left wild,</p> + <p> Will the Children of Honington be</p> +<p class="i2"> Less blest than when I was a Child?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 20</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> No! ... Childhood shall find the scene fair,</p> +<p class="i2"> Then here let me cease my complaint;</p> + <p> Still shall Health be inhal'd with the Air,</p> +<p class="i2"> Which at Honington cannot be taint:</p> + <p> And tho' Age may still talk of the Green,</p> +<p class="i2"> Of the Heath, and free Commons of yore,</p> + <p> Youth shall joy in the new-fangled scene,</p> +<p class="i2"> And boast of <i>that</i> change we deplore.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 21</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Dear to me was the wild-thorny Hill,</p> +<p class="i2"> And dear the brown Heath's sober scene;</p> + <p> And Youth shall find Happiness still,</p> +<p class="i2"> Tho' he roves not on Common or Green:</p> + <p> Tho' the pressure of Wealth's lordly hand</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall give Emulation no scope,</p> + <p> And tho' all the' appropriate Land</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall leave Indigence nothing to hope.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 22</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> So happily flexile Man's make.</p> +<p class="i2"> So pliantly docile his mind,</p> + <p> Surrounding impressions we take,</p> +<p class="i2"> And bliss in each circumstance find.</p> + <p> The Youths of a more polish'd Age</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall not wish these rude Commons to see;</p> + <p> To the Bird that's inur'd to the Cage,</p> +<p class="i2"> It would not be Bills to be free.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + THE CULPRIT. +</h2> + + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> "<i>Man hard of heart to Man! ... of horrid things</i></p> + <p> <i>Most horrid; midst stupendous highly strange:</i></p> + <p> <i>Yet oft his courtesies are smoother wrongs;</i></p> + <p> <i>Pride brandishes the favours he confers,</i></p> + <p> <i>And contumelious his Humanity.</i></p> + <p> <i>What then his vengeance? hear it not, ye Stars,</i></p> + <p> <i>And thou, pale Moon, turn paler at the sound</i>: ...</p> + <p> <i>Man is to Man the sorest, surest Ill.</i>"</p> +</div></div> + + +<h4> +YOUNG. +</h4> + +<hr /> + +<p> +[His Reflections on the Propensity to gaze on Misery.—Military +Punishments.—Eager Curiosity of Spectators.—Theatric Amusements.—He +examines the Motives where the Distress is real.—His Dread from the +Disposition of Mankind.—The Jury withdrawn.... His Reflections.—Full +of apprehension.... effect of Pride in maintaing an opinion.—His fears +from the diminished regard of an Oath.—This idea pursued.—Instance +of false Shame.... of contempt of Shame.—Perjury.—Duty of +Deliberation.... Misbodings.—Hopes from mild and conscientious +feelings.—Conflict of Hope, Doubt, and Fear.—The Verdict.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> 'Man hard of heart! of horrid things</p> +<p class="i2"> Most horrid! and of strange most strange:'...</p> + <p> Thus the mournful Poet sings,</p> +<p class="i2"> Experienc'd in Life's various range.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> In the hopeful morn of Youth,</p> +<p class="i2"> This serious Song I lov'd and learn'd,</p> + <p> Nor ever thought the mournful truth</p> +<p class="i2"> Would ever thus by me be mourn'd.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ne'er thought I ever thus should stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> The butt of every tearful eye;</p> + <p> To raise the Culprit's trembling hand,</p> +<p class="i2"> To heave the Culprit's anxious sigh.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Now the mournful truth to prove,</p> +<p class="i2"> Gazing crouds around I see,</p> + <p> For sure 'tis cruel selfish love</p> +<p class="i2"> That brings them here to gaze on me.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> 'Tis thus wherever human woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> Wherever deep distress appears;</p> + <p> Thither curious gazers go,</p> +<p class="i2"> To' insult the wretched with their tears.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> E'en where hostile armies join</p> +<p class="i2"> In the horrid frightful fray,</p> + <p> Where groaning mortals life resign,</p> +<p class="i2"> I've heard their fellow-mortal say—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> 'Oh! for a safe and lofty stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where I the Battle's rage might see;</p> + <p> When Carnage, with relentless hand,</p> +<p class="i2"> Strews the Ground, or stains the Sea.'<a id="footnotetag9" name="footnotetag9"></a><a href="#footnote9"><sup>9</sup></a></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When list'ning, with suspended breath,</p> +<p class="i2"> A wretch his dreadful sentence hears,</p> + <p> In Martial Court, where worse than Death</p> +<p class="i2"> The Military Culprit fears.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And when encircled by the band,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lingering torments, public shame,</p> + <p> Severity's most ruthless hand</p> +<p class="i2"> Lacerates his manly frame:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When many a hardy Soldier weeps,</p> +<p class="i2"> And grieves that he's compell'd to stay;</p> + <p> Who perforce his station keeps,</p> +<p class="i2"> Or would soon be far away;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yet see beyond the circling guard,</p> +<p class="i2"> Idle gazers flocking round,</p> + <p> To see and hear are pressing hard,</p> +<p class="i2"> As if the spot were fairy ground.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> What is it that a charm imparts?</p> +<p class="i2"> Why do they press to hear and see?</p> + <p> Can it be that human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> Delight in human misery?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When the inexorable hour</p> +<p class="i2"> Chills the hopeless convict's blood;</p> + <p> When sunk and drown'd his eve'ry power,</p> +<p class="i2"> In sorrow's overwhelming flood:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> To view the scene the many run,</p> +<p class="i2"> And o'er the hapless wretch to sigh:</p> + <p> Nor once enquire the crime he' has done; ...</p> +<p class="i2"> They only come to see him die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Various cares mankind employ;</p> +<p class="i2"> But to gaze on human woe</p> + <p> Seems the universal joy,</p> +<p class="i2"> For which they all their cares forego.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Each from his pursuit departs,</p> +<p class="i2"> Suffering, dying Man to see;</p> + <p> Surely there are human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> That joy in human misery.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Where fictitious tragic woe</p> +<p class="i2"> Entertains the gaudy ring,</p> + <p> Each the horror can forego,</p> +<p class="i2"> And instant mental comfort bring.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When the spirits take alarm,</p> +<p class="i2"> Prompt to anger, grief, or spleen,</p> + <p> Reason can dissolve the charm,</p> +<p class="i2"> And say, 'tis a fictitious scene.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> But to scenes of real woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where a wretch is truely dying,</p> + <p> Wherefore do such numbers go,</p> +<p class="i2"> What can be the joy of sighing?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Men of thought, who soar serene,</p> +<p class="i2"> And loftily philosophize,</p> + <p> Will say they seek the solemn scene,</p> +<p class="i2"> To contemplate and sympathize.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And all the throng will tell you so: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis sympathy that brings them there;</p> + <p> They love to weep for others' woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> And come but to enjoy a tear.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> If to <i>enjoy</i> the tear that starts,</p> +<p class="i2"> They run the sorrow'd scene to see—</p> + <p> Alas! for pity ... human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> Delight in human misery.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Still my wretched thought thus strays,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Midst gloomy scenes and prospects drear;</p> + <p> My weary mind, in various ways</p> +<p class="i2"> Seeking Hope, still finds Despair.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> This thought a weight of woe imparts,</p> +<p class="i2"> At once to sink a wretch like me;</p> + <p> What can I hope, if human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> Delight in human misery?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Tortur'd by severe suspense,</p> +<p class="i2"> I the Jurors' Verdict wait,</p> + <p> Ere I may depart from hence,</p> +<p class="i2"> Their decision seals my fate.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Now withdrawn, their close debate</p> +<p class="i2"> Admits no curious, list'ening ear,</p> + <p> But the result's so big with fate,</p> +<p class="i2"> The Culprit must in thought be there.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And now, led on by sad despair,</p> +<p class="i2"> Does a frightful form obtrude;</p> + <p> Vindictive Spleen assumes the air</p> +<p class="i2"> Of noble, manly Fortitude.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And thus I hear the Demon say,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Let us not abuse our trust;</p> + <p> 'We must not be led away</p> +<p class="i2"> 'For mercy's sake, to be unjust.'</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yet he'll profess no wrath to feel</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Gainst such a hapless wretch as I;</p> + <p> No! ... but for the public weal,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis expedient that I die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And this his judgment once made known,</p> +<p class="i2"> Self-love and self-conceit's so strong,</p> + <p> He'll rather let me die than own</p> +<p class="i2"> That his opinion could be wrong.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ye who the lore of distant climes</p> +<p class="i2"> Canvass, latent truth to find;</p> + <p> Who hail our philosophic times,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Man's emancipated mind:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Oh! ye who boast the enlighten'd age,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who boast your right of thinking free ...</p> + <p> If e'er ye learn the lessons sage,</p> +<p class="i2"> Taught in affliction's school like me,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Should you e'er a Culprit stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> You'll wish mankind all Christians then;</p> + <p> If e'er you raise the Culprit's hand,</p> +<p class="i2"> You'll wish the Jurors Christian Men.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When at the dread Confessional,</p> +<p class="i2"> Men trembled from their early youth,</p> + <p> Taught to fear, on pain of Hell,</p> +<p class="i2"> To utter more or less than Truth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Then Faith could sharpest trials stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> Man at threat'ning Death could smile,</p> + <p> If but his Pastor's lenient hand</p> +<p class="i2"> Toucht him with the Holy Oil.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Full faith the solemn Oath obtain'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Man's mind was aw'd by priestly rule;</p> + <p> Steady to Truth he still remain'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Unless to priestly fraud a tool.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> But where Church Discipline has ceas'd</p> +<p class="i2"> To train men's minds in early youth,</p> + <p> Hard indeed the Culprit's case,</p> +<p class="i2"> Whose fate depends on others' truth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Even the man whose ways are wise,</p> +<p class="i2"> Whose life is rul'd by Honour's laws;</p> + <p> Who owns, in philosophic guise,</p> +<p class="i2"> A Deity ... a first great cause: ...</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yet boasts his mind no shackles wears: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis hard his solemn Oath to trust;</p> + <p> For, without future hopes and fears,</p> +<p class="i2"> Know I if Conscience makes him just? ...</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And then, the' admitted evidence ...</p> +<p class="i2"> Ye Jurors, can his word be true?</p> + <p> Tempted, in his own defence,</p> +<p class="i2"> To feign another's crime to you.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When venial crimes in Love's gay spring,</p> +<p class="i2"> Prompt the youthful Female's sigh;</p> + <p> When her roses all take wing,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Matrons sage her plight descry;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Blushing, weeping, she'll confess</p> +<p class="i2"> The fault her faded cheeks discover:</p> + <p> But, to make her crime the less,</p> +<p class="i2"> Imputes an outrage to her Lover.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> So strong the power of pride and shame,</p> +<p class="i2"> Her frailty she will still deny;</p> + <p> Rather than own herself to blame,</p> +<p class="i2"> She lets the hapless Lover die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Is Merit from his right debarr'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> Or guiltless charg'd with foul offence?</p> + <p> A Knave but speaks the perjur'd word,</p> +<p class="i2"> And laughs at injur'd Innocence.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Laughs he at detection too?</p> +<p class="i2"> Yes ... for he'll be but expos'd;</p> + <p> But set up to public view,</p> +<p class="i2"> Should his falshood be disclos'd.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> He such exposure dares defy,</p> +<p class="i2"> Public shame is not his fear;</p> + <p> He who can vouch the solemn lie,</p> +<p class="i2"> Would shew his forehead any where.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> While Innocence meets punishment,</p> +<p class="i2"> While Falshood can produce such woes,</p> + <p> Mercy's self must needs lament</p> +<p class="i2"> Perjury not more punish'd goes.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Dubious may be the Culprit's case,</p> +<p class="i2"> Though clear and open all his ways;</p> + <p> What Life is proof 'gainst dire disgrace,</p> +<p class="i2"> If guileful hate his act pourtrays?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ye Jurors cautiously proceed,</p> +<p class="i2"> When the question's left to you,</p> + <p> Not 'Has the Culprit done the deed?'</p> +<p class="i2"> But 'Was the deed a crime to do?'<a id="footnotetag10" name="footnotetag10"></a><a href="#footnote10"><sup>10</sup></a></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Grudge not deliberation's time,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest you should be too severe;</p> + <p> When Justice must believe a crime,</p> +<p class="i2"> She lends it her most tardy ear.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> How short is this momentous hour!</p> +<p class="i2"> O! how swift the minutes fly!</p> + <p> Soon the Jurors, arm'd with power,</p> +<p class="i2"> Will come to bid me live or die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Pointed thoughts of Life and Death,</p> +<p class="i2"> Anxious sore solicitude,</p> + <p> Shake my frame, suspend my breath,</p> +<p class="i2"> When Terror's gloomy shades protrude.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> But when Hope cheers me with the sound</p> +<p class="i2"> Of Mercy's voice, of Mercy's plea,</p> + <p> And tells me Mercy will be found</p> +<p class="i2"> Amongst the twelve to speak for me,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Rapt Fancy hears the Cherub plead: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> Propitious is the Culprit's fate,</p> + <p> If one, by tender mercy sway'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Amongst the Jurors takes his seat.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> One who will meek-ey'd Mercy's laws</p> +<p class="i2"> Oppose to Rigour's doubtful rule ...</p> + <p> Nor quit the hapless Culprit's cause,</p> +<p class="i2"> Though sterner Judgements deem him fool.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Blessings that wait his heart, his tongue,</p> +<p class="i2"> Cannot elate his tranquil breast:</p> + <p> He courts no blessing from the throng;</p> +<p class="i2"> He is, and ever will be, blest.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> He shall win the Jury's ear,</p> +<p class="i2"> Pity glist'ning in his eye;</p> + <p> Let us not be too severe....</p> +<p class="i2"> If we let the Culprit die,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Fruitlessly we may bewail</p> +<p class="i2"> In future, should our hearts relent:</p> + <p> O! then let Mercy's voice prevail;</p> +<p class="i2"> Mercy we can ne'er repent.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Mercy smiles, and every face</p> +<p class="i2"> Reflects the Cherub's aspect meek;</p> + <p> Glowing with her resistless grace,</p> +<p class="i2"> Mercy beams on every cheek.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Hope, thy presage cannot fail.</p> +<p class="i2"> Bid my Mary cease to mourn;</p> + <p> Surely Mercy shall prevail,</p> +<p class="i2"> And I to Love and Life return.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Shall I the lenient Verdict hear,</p> +<p class="i2"> Thrilling through my shivering frame?</p> + <p> Ye Jurors, clad in smiles appear,</p> +<p class="i2"> To realize this happy dream.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Their Deliberation's o'er,</p> +<p class="i2"> How shall I the Crisis meet?</p> + <p> Hark! I hear the opening door: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> Silence and Awe attend their feet!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> They enter ... though no voice is heard,</p> +<p class="i2"> Mercy in each face I see;</p> + <p> They speak ... and in the single word</p> +<p class="i2"> Is Life, and Love, and Liberty!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote9" name="footnote9"></a> +<b>Footnote 9</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag9">(return)</a> +<p> +The sentiment of Lucretius— +</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> <i>Suave etiam Martis certamina magna tueri</i></p> + <p> <i>Per campos instructa, tuo fine parte percli.</i></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Sweet to behold the Martial Contest spread</p> + <p> Wide o'er the Plains, without thy share of Ill.</p> +</div></div> + + +<p> +But the Philosophic Poet accounts for it by the heightened sense of +safety; and not on the principle of Malevolence. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote10" name="footnote10"></a> +<b>Footnote 10</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag10">(return)</a> +<p> +This Question may come before the Jury in Cases of +<i>Homicide, Assault and Battery</i>, and other charges of that nature, which +may be justifiable on circumstances: but in many if the fact is found, +as in <i>Forgery</i>, &c. the criminality, with some very rare exceptions, is +a legal inference necessarily resulting from the fact. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + + + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + YORKSHIRE DIP. +</h2> + + + + +<p> +[The Country Ramble of Jupiter.—The Feast: ... It's Music, and +Gaiety.—The Dip makes it's appearance.—The Consequence.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Once on a time, old Legends say,</p> + <p> 'Twas on a sultry Summer's day,</p> + <p> A Grecian God forsook the Skies,</p> + <p> To taste of Earth's felicities.</p> +<p class="i2"> Clad like a rusticated elf,</p> + <p> (Perhaps <i>incog.</i> 'twas Jove himself)</p> + <p> He travers'd hills, and glens, and woods,</p> + <p> And verdant lawns, by crystal floods;</p> + <p> For sure, said he, if Earth has joys,</p> + <p> They dwell remote from pomp and noise.</p> +<p class="i2"> He loitering pass'd the vacant hour,</p> + <p> For Strawberries stoop'd, or pluck'd a Flower,</p> + <p> And snuff'd the Zephyrs as they play'd,</p> + <p> In wanton curves beneath the shade.</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Till having every sweet pursued,</p> + <p> That leisure finds in solitude,</p> + <p> Resolving now to seek Mankind,</p> + <p> And new delights in converse find,</p> + <p> He left the woods, he cross'd the plain,</p> + <p> And join'd the Reapers' jolly train;</p> + <p> With Men and Maids he talk'd and toil'd,</p> + <p> While jocund mirth the hours beguil'd;</p> + <p> For Maids the cheerful labour shar'd,</p> + <p> And blooming health their rich reward.</p> +<p class="i2"> When noon advanc'd, Sol's downward rays</p> + <p> Shedding intolerable blaze,</p> + <p> Compel the Labourers' retreat,</p> + <p> To shelter from the fervent heat;</p> + <p> The copse that skirts the irriguous mead</p> + <p> Affords a welcome cooling shade.</p> +<p class="i2"> A Damsel from the careful Dame</p> + <p> With wholesome viands loaded came;</p> + <p> Though coarse and homely was their meal,</p> + <p> Though brown their bread, and mild their ale,</p> + <p> Gladly they view'd the plenteous store,</p> + <p> Dispos'd on Nature's verdant floor.</p> +<p class="i2"> The aerial Stranger soon made free,</p> + <p> Nor miss'd Apollo's minstrelsy;</p> + <p> For chirping Grasshoppers were heard,</p> + <p> With dulcet notes of many a Bird</p> + <p> That sought at noon the umbrageous glade</p> + <p> And softly sung beneath the shade.</p> + <p> He took his place upon the ground,</p> + <p> With Lads and Lasses circling round;</p> + <p> He sat as they sat, fed as they fed,</p> + <p> Drank ale, and laugh'd, and talk'd, as they did;</p> + <p> Each playful wile, by Love employ'd,</p> + <p> He by kind sympathy enjoy'd;</p> + <p> The Lover's extasies he caught,</p> + <p> When looks convey'd th' enamour'd thought;</p> + <p> From breast to breast while raptures bound,</p> + <p> He prais'd the varied prospects round,</p> + <p> Compar'd each Lass to Beauty's Queen,</p> + <p> And own'd it an Elysian scene,</p> +<p class="i2"> The jolly God smil'd all propitious,</p> + <p> But ah! how fatally capricious....</p> +<p class="i2"> It chanc'd, amidst this humble Feast,</p> + <p> A cup of YORKSHIRE DIP was plac'd ...</p> + <p> A pudding-sauce well-known of yore,</p> + <p> When folks were frugal, though not poor;</p> + <p> An olio mixt of <i>sweet and sour</i>.</p> + <p> Soon as this touch'd his laughing lip,</p> + <p> That unmixt Nectar us'd to sip,</p> + <p> He rose, and with a threat'ning frown</p> + <p> Of direful Anger<a id="footnotetag11" name="footnotetag11"></a><a href="#footnote11"><sup>11</sup></a>, dash'd it down,</p> + <p> And swore, departing in a huff,</p> + <p> I'll make your lives like that d——d stuff.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"> Too sure the Malediction fell,</p> + <p> As every mortal wight can tell:</p> + <p> For HUMAN LIFE, to this bless'd hour,</p> + <p> Like <i>Yorkshire Dip</i>, is SWEET AND SOUR.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote11" name="footnote11"></a> +<b>Footnote 11</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag11">(return)</a> +<p> +Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust.<a id="footnotetag12" name="footnotetag12"></a><a href="#footnote12"><sup>12</sup></a> POPE.] +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote12" name="footnote12"></a> +<b>Footnote 12</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag12">(return)</a> +<p> +The Poet has drawn his Jupiter according to the Homeric +Model, in it's least divine features. Yet I wish he had not. The +<i>Yorkshire Dip</i> (the mixture of sweet and sour) might have remained a +type of Life, temper'd in like manner: not by the wrath but by the +<i>benevolence</i> of Jupiter. +</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> ... Who hath will'd</p> + <p> That Pleasure be co-mate of Toil and Pain,</p> + <p> Lest Joy should sink in listless apathy.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> <i>... Curit acuens mortalia corda,</i></p> + <p> <i>Nec torpere gravi passus fua Regna Veterno.</i></p> +</div></div> + + +<p> +GEORG. I. +</p> + +<p> +And accordingly the next Poem. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + LOVE'S TRIUMPH: +</h2> + + + +<h3> +AN ELEGIAC BALLAD. +</h3> + + +<p> +[The Expostulation.—Continued.—Fears of +Poverty.—Encouragement.—Baldwin's Song.—Deceitfulness of visions +indulgence.—Tormenting distressing Passions.—Comforts of a low +Fortune.—Poverty in England contrasted with other Countries.—The +Question.... The Conclusion.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Come, let us seek the woodland shade,</p> +<p class="i2"> And leave this view of towns and towers:</p> + <p> Sweeter far the verdant mead,</p> +<p class="i2"> And lonely dell's sequester'd bowers.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Why does my Love this walk prefer;</p> +<p class="i2"> This hill, so near the public way?</p> + <p> Why is this prospect dear to her?</p> +<p class="i2"> Where Villas proud their pomp display?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ah! why does Mary sometimes sigh,</p> +<p class="i2"> Surveying this magnific scene;</p> + <p> The seats of Grandeur tow'ring high,</p> +<p class="i2"> With Rivers, Groves, and Lawns between?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> On splendid Cars, that smoothly move,</p> +<p class="i2"> With high-born Youths gay Damsels ride;</p> + <p> By the encircling arm of Love</p> +<p class="i2"> Press'd to the wealthy Lover's side.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Why turn to view their easy state,</p> +<p class="i2"> As the long glittering train moves by?</p> + <p> And when they reach the pompous gate,</p> +<p class="i2"> Ah! why does youthful Mary sigh?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Doth Envy that fond bosom heave?</p> +<p class="i2"> Repining at her humble lot ...</p> + <p> Alas! does Mary long to leave</p> +<p class="i2"> The lonely Dale and lowly Cot?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 7</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Pure and sincere is Mary's Love:</p> +<p class="i2"> Words were superfluous to tell;</p> + <p> A thousand tendernesses prove</p> +<p class="i2"> That Mary loves her Stephen well.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 8</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When list'ning to the Stockdove's moan,</p> +<p class="i2"> Far in the deep sequester'd grove,</p> + <p> The blush that whisper'd, 'We're alone,'</p> +<p class="i2"> Sweetly confess the power of Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 9</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Exalted Love concealment mocks,</p> +<p class="i2"> This feign'd indifference does but prove</p> + <p> That was I Lord of Fields and Flocks,</p> +<p class="i2"> My Mary's Lips would own her Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 10</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Doth Poverty create the fears</p> +<p class="i2"> That o'er your love their shadows fling? ...</p> + <p> The silence of those falling tears</p> +<p class="i2"> Confesses all the truth I sing.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 11</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> O! Mary, let not empty shew,</p> +<p class="i2"> Let not the pride of gaudy dress,</p> + <p> Thus cloud thy morn of life with woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> And blight it's future happiness.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 12</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Trust the monition Baldwin gave,</p> +<p class="i2"> Our future bliss it's truth shall prove,</p> + <p> Life's cares the Lovers who dare brave,</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall find their rich reward in Love:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 13</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Baldwin, the hoary-headed Bard,</p> +<p class="i2"> I still consult when cares annoy:</p> + <p> He own'd for me a fond regard;</p> +<p class="i2"> And calls me still his darling Boy.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 14</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> His mind is fraught with spoils of Time;</p> +<p class="i2"> He's wise and good, though known to few;</p> + <p> He gave me this advice in rhyme,</p> +<p class="i2"> And here I'll read the Song to you:—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 15</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Though envious Age affects to deem thee Boy,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lose not one day, one hour, of proffer'd bliss;</p> + <p> In youth grasp every unoffending joy,</p> +<p class="i2"> And wing'd with rapture snatch the bridal kiss.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 16</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Let not this chief of blessings be deferr'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Till you your humble fortunes can improve;</p> + <p> None's poor but he, by sordid fears deterr'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who dares not claim the matchless wealth of Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 17</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Virtue can make most rich thy little store;</p> +<p class="i2"> Virtue can make most bright thy lowly state:</p> + <p> Murmur not then that virtuous thou art poor,</p> +<p class="i2"> While prosperous Vice can make men rich and great.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 18</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "The bad man may, his every sense to please,</p> +<p class="i2"> Each soft indulging luxury employ:</p> + <p> The plenitude of elegance and ease</p> +<p class="i2"> He may possess; but never can enjoy.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 19</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "No ... though his goods, and flocks, and herds abound;</p> +<p class="i2"> His wide demesne to fair profusion grown;</p> + <p> Though proud his lofty mansion looks around,</p> +<p class="i2"> On hills, and fields, and forests, all his owns</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 20</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Tho' this may tempt thee, murmuring to complain,</p> +<p class="i2"> With conscience clear, and life void of offence,</p> + <p> 'Verily, then, I've cleans'd my heart in vain;</p> +<p class="i2"> In vain have wash'd my hands in Innocence.'</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 21</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Yet could'st thou closely mark the envied Man,</p> +<p class="i2"> See how desires ungovern'd mar his peace;</p> + <p> Or had'st thou power his inward mind to scan,</p> +<p class="i2"> How soon in pity would thy envy cease!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 22</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Envenom'd Passions all his thoughts unhinge!</p> +<p class="i2"> The Slave of Vice must thy companion move;</p> + <p> If still he burns with thirst of dire Revenge,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lawless Ambition, or unhallow'd Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 23</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "'Midst gayest scenes he wean a gloomy frown:</p> +<p class="i2"> Vain is the splendour that his dome adorns;</p> + <p> While he reclines on silky heaps of down,</p> +<p class="i2"> His tortur'd mind is weltering on thorns.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 24</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "To prove that man opprest with mental pain,</p> +<p class="i2"> The goods of Fortune have no power to please,</p> + <p> Even Suicide has oft been known to stain</p> +<p class="i2"> The downy couch of most luxurious case.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 25</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "The active life of Labour gives no room</p> +<p class="i2"> To that dull spleen the Indolent endure;</p> + <p> Generous cares dispel our mental gloom,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Industry is Melancholy's cure.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 26</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Repine not then, that low thy lot is cast;</p> +<p class="i2"> Health gives to life or high or low it's zest;</p> + <p> 'Tis Appetite that seasons our repast,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Weariness still finds the softest rest.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 27</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "For all thy blessings thankfulness to wake,</p> +<p class="i2"> Think of less cultur'd lands, less peaceful times;</p> + <p> Our coarsest fare, when sparingly we take,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis luxury, compar'd with other climes.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 28</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Think of the poor Greenlanders' dismal caves,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where thro' their long, long Night they buried lie;</p> + <p> Or the more wretched lands where hapless slaves</p> +<p class="i2"> Hopelessly toil beneath the fervid Sky.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 29</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "In Britain ... blest with peace and competence,</p> +<p class="i2"> Rich Fortune's favours could impart no more: ...</p> + <p> Heaven's blessings equal happiness dispense;</p> +<p class="i2"> Believe my words, for I am old and poor.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 30</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Many who drudge in Labour's roughest ways,</p> +<p class="i2"> By whom Life's simplest, lowliest walks are trod,</p> + <p> Happily live, to honor'd length of days,</p> +<p class="i2"> Blessing kind Nature, and kind Nature's God."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 31</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> What think you, is sage Baldwin right?</p> +<p class="i2"> Should Spring-tide Love endure delay?</p> + <p> And shall our bliss be seal'd ere Night?</p> +<p class="i2"> Say, lovely Mary, softly say?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 32</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Why starts my Love? ... why rise to go?</p> +<p class="i2"> Will Mary then my suit deny?</p> + <p> Sweet is the smile that answers, No!</p> +<p class="i2"> By Heaven, there's rapture in her eye!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + +<h2> + THE PROVERBS OF THREESCORE: +</h2> + + + +<h3> +AFFECTIONATELY ADDRESSED TO EIGHTEEN. +</h3> + + +<p> +[The Contrast.—Encouragement.—The Admonition.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Have you seen the delightless abode,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where Penury nurses Despair;</p> + <p> Where comfortless Life is a load,</p> +<p class="i2"> Age wishes no longer to bear.</p> + <p> Ah! who, in this lazerhouse pent,</p> +<p class="i2"> His lone wailings sends up to the skies?</p> + <p> 'Tis the Man whose young prime was mispent;</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis he who so bitterly sighs.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> His Youth, sunk in profligate waste,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest no Comforts Life's evening to cheer;</p> + <p> He must only it's bitterness taste,</p> +<p class="i2"> No Friend, no kind relative near.</p> + <p> His Children by want forc'd to roam,</p> +<p class="i2"> Are aliens wherever they are:</p> + <p> They have long left his desolate home;</p> +<p class="i2"> Have left him alone to despair.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Have you seen the delectable place,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where honor'd Age loves to abide;</p> + <p> Where Plenty, and Pleasure, and Peace,</p> +<p class="i2"> With Virtue and Wisdom reside?</p> + <p> Autumn's Fruits he has carefully stor'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> His Herds willing tributes abound:</p> + <p> And the smiles of his plenteous board,</p> +<p class="i2"> By his Children's Children are crown'd.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And his is the Godlike delight,</p> +<p class="i2"> The power to relieve the distress'd! ...</p> + <p> Who can contemplate blessings so bright,</p> +<p class="i2"> And not wish to be equally bless'd.</p> + <p> Then let not the means be forgot:</p> +<p class="i2"> Remember, and mark this great truth;</p> + <p> 'Twas not Chance fix'd his prosp'rous Lot,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Twas the Virtues of provident Youth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> If such a bright prospect can charm,</p> +<p class="i2"> If you feel emulation arise,</p> + <p> If your juvenile bosom is warm,</p> +<p class="i2"> With the hope to be wealthy and wise;</p> + <p> O cherish the noble design,</p> +<p class="i2"> The maxims of Prudence pursue,</p> + <p> Application and Industry join,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis the way fickle Fortune to woo.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Early cultivate Virtue's rich seeds;</p> +<p class="i2"> These will fruits in Life's winter display:</p> + <p> Ne'er defer till to-morrow good deeds,</p> +<p class="i2"> That as well might be finish'd to-day.</p> + <p> For Age and Experience can tell,</p> +<p class="i2"> And you'll find, when you grow an old man,</p> + <p> Though it's never too late to do well,</p> +<p class="i2"> You will wish you had sooner began.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + MORE BREAD AND CHEESE. +</h2> + + + + +<h3> + A NEW SONG, +</h3> + +<center> +<i>Written in the Beginning of the Year 1793</i>. +</center> + + +<p> +[The Balance of Population and Supply.—The Overstock'd Hive.—The +Source of War.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3> +TO THE TUNE OF "NOTTINGHAM ALE." +</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> My Brothers of this world, of ev'ry Nation,</p> + <p> Some maxims of prudence the Muse would inspire.</p> + <p> Now restlessness reigns throughout every station;</p> + <p> The low would be high, and the high would be higher;</p> +<p class="i6"> Now Freedom's the word,</p> +<p class="i6"> That unsheaths ev'ry sword,</p> + <p> But don't be deceiv'd by such pretexts as these:</p> +<p class="i6"> 'Tis not Freedom, nor Slavery,</p> +<p class="i6"> That calls for your Bravery;</p> + <p> 'Tis, only a Scramble for more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When others some party are venting their rage on,</p> + <p> Inflam'd by the news from Versailles or the Hague,</p> + <p> Let Mum be your maxim ... beware of contagion ...</p> + <p> For Anger is catching as Fever or Plague:</p> +<p class="i6"> Now Victuals is scanty,</p> +<p class="i6"> And Eaters are plenty,</p> + <p> The former must rise, or the latter decrease;</p> +<p class="i6"> If in War they're employ'd,</p> +<p class="i6"> Till one half are destroy'd,</p> + <p> The few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Think not that Employment's the grand requisition;</p> + <p> That if men had work it would make the times good;</p> + <p> No man would want work if he lack'd not provision;</p> + <p> The cry for Employ is the cry for more Food.</p> +<p class="i6"> Now every Trade,</p> +<p class="i6"> From the Gown to the Spade,</p> + <p> Oppress'd by it's numbers feels Scarcity's squeeze;</p> +<p class="i6"> From the Prince to the Peasant,</p> +<p class="i6"> 'Tis true, tho' unpleasant,</p> + <p> There must be fewer mouths, or else more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Now our Hive is so pinch'd, both for room and for honey,</p> + <p> The industrious Bees would fain kick out the Drones:</p> + <p> But expose not your Life, for victuals nor money;</p> + <p> 'Tis better you supperless sleep with whole bones,</p> +<p class="i6"> Then shuffle, and hustle,</p> +<p class="i6"> Keep clear of the bustle,</p> + <p> Step out of the way-when they kick up a breeze:</p> +<p class="i6"> Preserve your own Life,</p> +<p class="i6"> Till the end of the strife:</p> + <p> Then the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Think not Hell is let loose with a terrible mission,</p> + <p> To punish a world for incor'gible Sin.</p> + <p> Not from angry Gods, nor from deep Politicians,</p> + <p> War nat'rally springs from the Passions of Men<a id="footnotetag13" name="footnotetag13"></a><a href="#footnote13"><sup>13</sup></a>:</p> +<p class="i6"> 'Tis for room and for food,</p> +<p class="i6"> That Men fight and shed blood<a id="footnotetag14" name="footnotetag14"></a><a href="#footnote14"><sup>14</sup></a>;</p> + <p> When sufficiently thinn'd the inducement will cease:</p> +<p class="i6"> There'll be room for us all,</p> +<p class="i6"> When our numbers are small:</p> + <p> And the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote13" name="footnote13"></a> +<b>Footnote 13</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag13">(return)</a> +<p> +So hath said the APOSTLE. <i>Ja</i>: iv. 1 But then these +warring Passions are something very like national Sins. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote14" name="footnote14"></a> +<b>Footnote 14</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag14">(return)</a> +<p> +Bad as this would be, it would be well if they made not War +on Motives less naturally urgent than these: "<i>glandem atque ambilia +propter</i>." It is worse to make Wars of Heroical, still worse of +Ministerial, and worst of all of Commercial Speculation. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + + + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER. +</h2> + + + + +<p> +[Vaccine Inoculation.—Distress and Terrors of the Small Pox.—Dangers +of Delay.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Rejoice, rejoice, Humanity!</p> +<p class="i2"> The fell, destructive, sore Disease,</p> + <p> The pest of ages, now can be,</p> +<p class="i2"> Repell'd with safety and with ease.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> He well deserves his Country's Meed,</p> +<p class="i2"> By whom the peerless blessing came;</p> + <p> And thousands from destruction freed,</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall raptur'd speak of JENNER'S name.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yes, JENNER'S vigilance is crown'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> A sovereign antidote is given:</p> + <p> The Blessing flows the Nations round;</p> +<p class="i2"> Free he diffus'd the gift of Heaven.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> So well approv'd it's sure effect,</p> +<p class="i2"> To turn aside the' impending harm;</p> + <p> And shall parental Love neglect</p> +<p class="i2"> To minister the precious balm?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Oh! no; beware of dire Delay,</p> +<p class="i2"> Ye, who caress your Infants dear:</p> + <p> Defer it not from day to day,</p> +<p class="i2"> From month to month, from year to year:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Lest you, like me, too late lament,</p> +<p class="i2"> Your Life bereft of all it's joy;</p> + <p> Clasp now the Gift so kindly sent,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest you behold your dying Boy!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 7</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Lest you see with trembling Fear,</p> +<p class="i2"> With inexpressible Distress;</p> + <p> The purple spots of Death appear,</p> +<p class="i2"> To blast your Hopes and Happiness:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 8</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Lest your keenest grief to wake,</p> +<p class="i2"> Like mine your suffering prattler say,</p> + <p> 'Go, bid my Father come and take</p> +<p class="i2"> 'These frightful Spots and Sores away.'</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 9</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Quickly from such fears be free:</p> +<p class="i2"> Oh! there is Danger in Delay!</p> + <p> Say not to-morrow it shall be: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> To-morrow! no; to-day, to-day.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 10</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Embrace the Blessing Heaven hath sent;</p> +<p class="i2"> So shall you ne'er such pangs endure:</p> + <p> Oh! give a Trifle to prevent,</p> +<p class="i2"> What you would give a World to cure.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + + + + + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11564 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: An Essay on War, in Blank Verse; Honington Green, a Ballad; The Culprit, an Elegy; and Other Poems, on Various Subjects</p> +<p>Author: Nathaniel Bloomfield</p> +<p>Release Date: March 13, 2004 [eBook #11564]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: US-ASCII</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; THE CULPRIT, AN ELEGY; AND OTHER POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS***</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<center><b>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Tony Browne, David Garcia,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</b></center> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<h1> + AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; +</h1> + + + +<h2> +HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; +</h2> + +<h2> +THE CULPRIT, <i>AN ELEGY</i>; +</h2> + +<h3> +AND +</h3> + +<h2> +OTHER POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS: +</h2> + +<center> +BY +</center> + +<h4> +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD. +</h4> + +<center> +1803. +</center> + +<p> </p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<blockquote> +<b>Transcriber's Note</b>: The page headers in the original text contained +one-line summaries of what appears on that page within each poem. Due to +the difficulty of interleaving these lines without completely disrupting +the flow of the poetry, they have been collected and placed in a single +square-bracketed paragraph at the start of each poem, and separated by +em-dashes. +</blockquote> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + PREFACE. +</h2> + + + +<hr /> + +<p> +Whoever has read the <i>Preface</i> to the FARMER'S BOY will hardly fail of +recollecting the Name of NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD; the Author of the POEMS +here offer'd to The Public. +</p> + +<p> +It will be recollected that he there appears, with his Brother GEORGE +BLOOMFIELD, standing in the place of the Father, whom they had early +lost, to their younger Brother ROBERT. +</p> + +<p> +It is natural to suppose that this brotherly interference, and it's +consequences, greatly and advantageously influenc'd the dispositions, +pursuits, and habits of thought and conduct, of all three of the +Brothers.—And it is the more exemplary when it is consider'd how young +the two eldest were at that time. +</p> + +<p> +It is an encouraging instance how much may be effected for each other +by the poor and uneducated, if they have prudence, activity, and kind +affections; and how unexpectedly, and to an extent far beyond apparent +probability, success is given by Providence to virtuous and benevolent +efforts. +</p> + +<p> +Beyond question, the Brothers of this Family are all extraordinary Men: +and perhaps every one of them is more so than he would have been without +the fraternal concord which has animated them all, and multiplied the +powers of all by union and sympathy. +</p> + +<p> +Of NATHANIEL, as of ROBERT, my Account shall be taken from +communications by Letter, made at my request by Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD. +</p> + +<p> +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was born 23d Feb.<a id="footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a> 1759. +</p> + +<p> +He was the 3d Child and 2d Son of GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, of <i>Honington</i>: and +was deprived of his Father, by the Small-pox, when he was <i>eight</i> years +old. Like ROBERT, he learnt to read and write of his MOTHER: and had, +like him, his farther instructions in <i>Writing</i>, and was taught the +first Rules of <i>Arithmetic</i>, by Mr. RODWELL, of <i>Ixworth</i><a id="footnotetag2" name="footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a>: where also +he seems to have had some instruction in <i>Grammar</i>. But his Mother being +then a <i>widow</i>, his Grandfather (Mr. ROBIN MANBY) kindly bound him +Apprentice to Mr. HAYLETT, a <i>Tailor</i> of <i>Market-Harling</i>: of which +business the Father of the BLOOMFIELDS had been. +</p> + +<p> +He was here very kindly treated: and was found to be an excellent +Apprentice. +</p> + +<p> +While here he learnt <i>Church Music</i>, (one of the great consolations of +energetic and pensive minds) and sung in a company which was conducted +by Mr. SYDER. But when his voice broke, he could make no figure among +them: for it was not only a Bass of extremely narrow compass, but <i>weak</i> +and <i>tremulous</i>. +</p> + +<p> +This latter defect of voice was observ'd in THOMSON: and perhaps it may +arise sometimes not from a fault in the natural quality of the voice, +but from exceeding sensibility to <i>Poetry</i> and <i>Music</i>. +</p> + +<p> +When about 16 or 17 years of age he entered with the fervor of a +vigorous and thoughtful mind into the study of <i>Religion</i>, on the +principles of the <i>Church</i> of <i>England</i>: and added to his study of it +what is the great end, the <i>practice</i> of Religion as a rule of conduct +and life. +</p> + +<p> +At a stall at <i>Harling Fair</i> he met with a <i>Practical Catechism</i>: the +Author's name, PRATT: and at the same time he made the acquisition of a +large volume of TILLOTSON'S Sermons. Probably the Folio Edition of the +Sermons of that excellent Man and <i>Writer</i>: so distinguish'd by his +Piety, uniform, mild, and rational; the morality of his excellent +Discourses; their simplicity and clearness; and the sweetness and +persuasiveness of manner. These, and other religious Tracts, he bought: +and "the last" (<i>Tillotson</i>) "he lent," says Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, "to +me. I receiv'd many excellent Letters from him on that subject: and they +had greater weight on my mind than if they had been written by an elder +hand." +</p> + +<p> +When his <i>Apprenticeship</i> expir'd he came to LONDON: and expected to +find his Brother GEORGE there. But GEORGE had taken a trip, "or tramp, +as it is called," into <i>Kent</i>. They however soon met in LONDON: "and +there never lived" (adds GEORGE) "a more pleasant acquaintance than +he prov'd." +</p> + +<p> +It was some years before he could procure work in LONDON sufficient to +support him through the <i>dead</i> Months. He us'd therefore, when he found +trade dull in Town, to go into the Country. +</p> + +<p> +And thus, while at <i>Woolwich</i>, he became acquainted with CHARLOTTE +NOBLE, whom he MARRIED 4th March, 1787; he being then in his 28th, and +she in her 17th year. Her Mother was a Widow: who kept a small General +Shop. Her Brother-in-law GEORGE, in speaking of this union, says, "There +perhaps never liv'd a Woman who possess'd a better temper: and he has, +though very poor, been exceedingly happy." For myself, I wish, in +transcribing this account, that those who think riches so essential to +happiness that they will take no step in life, nor suffer their hearts +or their understandings to have any influence with them, if the +acquisition of riches seems likely to be delayed or endanger'd, would +consider that the Family of the BLOOMFIELDS has been happy, and has +excell'd, upon very different principles. And if we would compare the +thousands in every situation of Life to whom what is called <i>prosperity</i> +is a snare, a burthen and a curse, with those who are happy with mere +necessaries, and those with difficulty obtain'd; ... happy by their +Affections and their Virtues; by improv'd and generous and tender +Feelings; by Hope amid difficulties, and Confidence in Heaven amid +trials and distresses, ... it might be seen and felt that there is more +of folly in the wisdom of the world, than those who place Wisdom in +the accumulation of superfluities, to the neglect of the most natural +Blessings, and often in violation of the clearest Duties, either of +<i>Justice</i> or of <i>Benevolence</i>, may be willing to acknowledge. +</p> + +<p> +He has <i>two</i> Children living:—ELIZABETH; born 11th <i>Jul</i>. 1789; GEORGE; +4th <i>Febr.</i> 1797. "He lost," adds his Brother, "two sweet Boys: who both +died within a few days of each other, by that dreadful disease the +SMALL-POX;" which, while this Preface was in the Press, has been fatal +to another promising Child, THOMAS; born <i>Aug</i>. 1799. The Father, +oppress'd with grief, reproaches himself for not having inoculated this +Child with the Small-Pox. But when it is consider'd how formidable, +after two such Losses, the SMALL-POX in any form must appear to +affectionate Parents, I think it will be evident that he is too severe +to himself in this reproach. The inoculated SMALL-POX is sometimes +fatal: had he inoculated the Child he would have reproach'd himself, +and still with more feeling than justice, for so doing. +</p> + +<p> +He had read but little Poetry when he came to LONDON: but he had not +been long there before he was struck, looking, as was his custom, at +Books on a stall, with the Title of NIGHT THOUGHTS. "He had never heard +of it before: but it's name was an irresistible charm to his melancholy, +enquiring mind. This has been ever his favourite Book. He would have +bought it had it been double the price. And as he possesses an +uncommonly retentive memory, he us'd to repeat great part of it by +rote in his walks with his Brothers. He afterwards read MILTON." +</p> + +<p> +Such a Memory, and the study of two such Authors with poetic enthusiasm, +may in part account for what exceedingly surpriz'd me in reading the +MSS. of THE ESSAY ON WAR:—a greater mastery in the mechanism, and +greater power of numbers, than I should have almost thought possible +in the first attempt in BLANK VERSE; even to a person of the best +education. +</p> + +<p> +He read too, GOLDSMITH and FIELDING. And he added to these some of our +English Poets as they fell in his way. Among these THOMSON could hardly +fail to be: but Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD remarks, "he never was so struck with +THOMSON as I should have expected." +</p> + +<p> +While single, he made it the amusement of his evenings to read +<i>Entick's Dictionary</i>, and write down every word of which he wish'd to +remember the spelling or the meaning. He has often said that since his +buying of the Sermons in his early youth, he had never bought for his +own reading any but <i>poetical</i> Books: and when he could get hold of any +miscellaneous Book, he read first the Poetry, and after look'd at no +other part. +</p> + +<p> +With this turn of Mind and habit of reading, that he has through Life +indulg'd in poetical effusions will be no matter of surprize. But be has +more than once said to his Brother GEORGE in Letters, that it was the +success of ROBERT that encouraged him to attempt an <i>Essay on War:</i> a +subject on which he had occupied his thoughts a great length of time. +</p> + +<p> +"I remember," says his Brother, "nothing particular of his infancy: +except the great share of bashfulness (or, as a Philosopher perhaps +would say, pride) which he possess'd in common with the rest of the +Family.... Exceedingly mild in his temper and kind to his play-mates, +he was very apt in learning." +</p> + +<p> +For the last 15 years his own Account is that he has certainty read +but little: his Family having claim'd his utmost exertions; and his +business allowing little leisure. And what leisure he had being +generally employed in walking with his Children. Untill last Summer he +was a <i>Journeyman</i> Tailor: but has since been a MASTER in a small way. +If therefore he appears to possess any knowledge of a litterary nature, +it must be all from the stores of Memory. +</p> + +<p> +He at present lives at No. 19, <i>Dagget Court, Broker Row, Moorfields, +London</i>. He is (says Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD) about 5F. 3I. high<a id="footnotetag3" name="footnotetag3"></a><a href="#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a>: of a dark +complexion, and dark gray eyes: he has lost the hair from the top of +his head, which gives him the appearance of Age. Though remarkable for +talking little, so as to have the name of a man of few words, he is, +on occasion, a chearful companion: and though generally pensive and +melancholy, ever kind-hearted. +</p> + +<p> +"As a Husband and Father, his character is certainly exemplary. And few +men pass through Life so smoothly. Though commonly working with a number +of shop-mates, he has such a philosophical command of temper, that he +never disputes; nor concerns himself with the disputes of others, unless +they refer to him for a decision." +</p> + +<p> +Thus far the Account by his Brother: who had observ'd in a former +Letter, that with respect to <i>Temper</i>, what he should otherwise have to +speak of NATHANIEL, he had in a great measure said already of ROBERT. +Such a coincidence in mild and simple manners, amiable and good +disposition, is pleasing to remark any where: and additionally so when +it relates to Men who have each original and characteristic Genius; and +when the testimony is given by a Brother so capable of judging, and who +has had such continued experience from their very early Life, of the +Disposition and Character of both. +</p> + +<p> +Having spoken thus far of the AUTHOR, from the best authority, it +remains for me to say something briefly of these his WORKS. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Early in the <i>Spring</i> of 1801, I saw in MSS. HONINGTON-GREEN, and the +ESSAY ON WAR<a id="footnotetag4" name="footnotetag4"></a><a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a>. I communicated them to Mr. GEDGE, <i>Printer</i>, of BURY; +who had been a zealous and active Friend to THE FARMER'S BOY: on reading +them, he wanted no time for deliberation, but offer'd at once to print +them for the benefit of the Author, at his own risque. I had known his +accuracy as a Printer: of which, and of neat Typography, I flatter +myself this Publication will be a proof. I had no difficulty to adopt +the proposal: and gladly offer'd, on my part, what little preparation +(very little indeed it was) might be necessary of the MSS. for the +Press; (or rather in it's progress through it); and to revise and +correct the Proofs. +</p> + +<p> +My province has been quite of a similar kind in this instance as it +was in that of Mr. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD: little corrections, in point +of Orthography; and still fewer of Grammar: sometimes of Diction; and +sometimes of Versification. For some of the best of these emendations +I have been indebted to one, in mentioning of whom I should have had +an affectionate Pride: and have more in that Modesty which forbids the +mention. They are, as I have said, few of any kind: For of emendations I +have been anxiously sparing. Little was requisite: and more than was so +would have been blameable. I rely on the original MSS. being preserv'd: +which on this, as on the former occasion, will speak for itself. +</p> + +<p> +I have said what I thought of THE FARMER'S BOY. It is a truely +agricultural Poem: it's originality and vivid representation of +immediate Nature manifest themselves in the whole Design, and in every +page. It will live with the works of HESIOD and THEOCRITUS; of VIRGIL +and THOMSON. I was nearly as much assur'd of this from the first, and so +express'd myself, as the event could assure me. I will now say with the +same freedom what I think of the ESSAY ON WAR. +</p> + +<p> +I regard it as a Poem of extraordinary vigor and originality: in +Thought, Plan, Conduct, Language, and Versification. I think it has much +indeed of the philosophic character, poetic spirit, force of coloring, +energy and pathos, which distinguish LUCRETIUS. Of the justness and +spirit of the VERSIFICATION I have already spoken. +</p> + +<p> +The PRINCIPLE of the ESSAY ON WAR appears to me, I will own, more +paradoxical than I should think, to judge from their conduct, it can +appear to the ruling part at least of Mankind in general. I indulge the +hope and expectation that WAR shall one day be universally and finally +extinguish'd. But I will confess also, that appearances would tempt us +to apprehend that day is far distant. And while we make War for Sport on +useful, generous, inoffensive Animals, it is not easy to imagine that we +shall cease to make War on one another. +</p> + +<p> +But whether the Principle of the Poem be well or ill-founded, I can +hardly imagine any abstract proposition to be more poetically, more +forcibly, or more comprehensively maintain'd. And I am either ignorant +wherein Genius consists, or it is manifest in the Idea, the Style and +Numbers, the Design and Conduct of this Poem. +</p> + +<p> +Of HONINGTON GREEN I am to speak next. And here it may be right to +obviate some prejudice against the Poem, which, in the minds of several, +may arise from the subject. I am not an Enemy to Enclosures: if the +RIGHTS and INTERESTS of the POOR, and of SMALL OWNERS, be very carefully +guarded, an ENCLOSURE may be a common Benefit. However, it is very +liable to become otherwise. But be an Enclosure good or bad, (and every +Man has a right to his opinion, and to support it by argument, on this +subject and every other) there are particular circumstances and +considerations which stand clear of the scope of the general question. +The Spot which is the subject of the Ballad is less, I believe, than +Half an Acre. It did certainly ornament the Village; independent of a +just and laudable partiality in the Author. Thus it would have seem'd to +the casual glance of a stranger. To the BLOOMFIELDS every circumstance +gave it peculiar endearment. There the Author of 'THE FARMER'S BOY,' and +of these POEMS, first drew breath. There grew the first Daisies which +their feet pressed in childhood. On this little Green their Parents +look'd with delight: and the Children caught the affection; and learn'd +to love it as soon as they lov'd any thing. By it's smallness and it's +situation it was no object: and could have been left out of Enclosure +without detriment to the General Plan, or to any individual Interest. +I wish it had: and most who love Poetry, and respect Genius, and are +anxious to preserve the little innocent Gratifications of the Poor, +will have the same wish. +</p> + +<p> +As a poetical effusion, it strikes me that it has the tone, simplicity, +and sweetness, and pleasing Melancholy of the Ballad. There is a stroke +or two of indignant severity: but the general character is such as I +have describ'd. And with filial Gratitude and Love there is blended, +in the close, that turn for Reflection which is so remarkable in this +Author.... I wish'd and recommended that some at least of the ornaments +of 'THE FARMER'S BOY' should be sketches of <i>local scenery</i>: knowing +how much more interesting they would have been, and how much more +appropriate to the Poem. In that recommendation I was not successful: +but I am glad, in this instance, to see a faithful and agreeable Sketch +of <i>Honington-Green</i> from a very young pencil<a id="footnotetag5" name="footnotetag5"></a><a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a>. It will be remember'd, +at a far remote Period, that the double Cottage at the end of the Green +was the Birth-place of the BLOOMFIELDS. It is still, (and may it yet be +long so) the habitation of their <i>Mother</i>: and has been repair'd lately +by ROBERT. And I much doubt whether any House or Green will see two such +Poets born of the same Parents. +</p> + +<p> +THE CULPRIT is the next in this Collection, and I had not seen it, nor +was it written, when I saw the two first. They decided my Opinion; and +had no more appeared, they would have been publish'd alone; as they +abundantly deserved. +</p> + +<p> +THE CULPRIT strikes me as an original and highly affecting Poem. The +very attempt to sketch the successive conflicting feelings of one thus +circumstanc'd is no common effort. And what compass of thought; what +energy of expression! ... I do not always admit the justness of the +arguments. But it is a Soliloquy in <i>character</i>: and in judging of it, +as in all pieces of <i>representative</i> Poetry (as Mr. DYER, in his lately +publish'd ESSAY has well term'd it) the imagin'd situation ought to be +consider'd. And it strikes me as closing with a true and aweful Pathos: +not often equall'd. +</p> + +<p> +The YORKSHIRE DIP is, I think, the result of that active but melancholy +Fancy, which can travel far into views of Life and Nature from a slight +occasion. It has a mixture of the Sportive which deepens the impression +of it's melancholy Close. I could have wish'd, as I have said in a short +Note, the Conclusion had been otherwise. The sours of Life less offend +my Taste than its sweets delight it. But when I think what NATHANIEL +must have felt in passing through Life, I more respect the Chearfulness +and habitual Vigor of his Mind, than I am dispos'd to be out of humor +with occasional gloom. +</p> + +<p> +LOVE'S TRIUMPH differs as much in manner as in subject from those which +precede it. Yet a vein of pensive and philosophic thought flows here +also. The SONG OF BALDWIN is well adapted to soothe the fears and the +discontents of Poverty: and to convince those who have not learnt it, +that wealth, and rank, and power, and unlimited indulgence, are not such +Blessings as they are imagin'd to be at a distance: nor Poverty such an +Evil, that the first and best Blessings of Nature should be therefore +thrown aside in despair. +</p> + +<p> +I may doubt on the <i>expediency</i> of the SONG OF BALDWIN being in a +different measure; but I can not doubt of the general merit of the Poem. +</p> + +<p> +The PROVERBS, like other compositions of this kind, must rest chiefly on +their moral Justness, Utility, Simplicity, and Conciseness, rather than +on poetic Excellence: though neither in form nor coloring are they +deficient of that compos'd and grave Beauty which the Nature of the +Subject and Composition admits. +</p> + +<p> +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE contains the Principle of the ESSAY ON WAR, and of +a celebrated ESSAY ON POPULATION, which I dare say the Author never saw. +It is strong, characteristic; and original: and although in the measure +of the <i>humorous</i> Ballad, has much nerve and energy<a id="footnotetag6" name="footnotetag6"></a><a href="#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a>. +</p> + +<p> +I have now a Remark to make which relates generally to the +Versification. We may observe of HONINGTON GREEN, and most of the Poems +in rhyme in this Collection, that they are strongly accentuated: and if +red with a close attention to accent and emphasis, the rhythm is musical +and energetic; where to a careless Reader it might appear harsh and +untuneable. +</p> + +<p> +The LYRIC ELEGY which concludes this little Collection is, I think, +animated and pathetic in no common degree. On the Merits of VACCINE +INOCULATION I do not think myself qualify'd to offer an opinion. Great +Doubts have been entertain'd concerning it by <i>medical</i> Men of Abilities +and Experience. Objections apparently strong were urg'd; and of various +kinds. At present it has had Declarations in it's favor from among the +most distinguish'd of it's Opposers. And it seems to have little short +of a general reception in the <i>medical World</i>.... Time and Experience, +the great Test of Truth in such instances, must determine for or against +it. But, important as the Question is, poetical Merit is comparatively +independent on the correctness of a philosophic System or Hypothesis. +And reflecting on his former Losses and present Calamities, the Author +could not but feel a deep Interest in whatever seem'd likely to obviate +such an Evil to others. +</p> + +<p> +I have observ'd some rather striking <i>coincidences</i> with VIRGIL and +LUCRETIUS. I might have pointed out more; and to other <i>classic</i> +Authors. But I should have extended this Preface too far. At the same +time, such a concurrence in the Sentiments and Expressions of Genius in +very distant Ages, and under widely different Circumstances, is always +interesting, even where it can be resolv'd with Certainty, or +Probability, into IMITATION: and much more so, when, as in these Poems, +it is certain that it CAN NOT. +</p> + +<p> +I have very few Words more to say in presenting this little Volume to +the PUBLIC. Specimens they will find in it of such different kinds of +Composition, as the same individual rarely can attempt with success. Yet +through great diversity of Style, Dissimilarity of Measure, and Variety +of Sentiment and Subject, may be seen the same Mind: and Traces of the +same Manner, and that manner peculiarly characteristic...a mixture of +contemplative equanimity, of incidental gleams of vivacity; of energy +frequently pathetic, sometimes sarcastic, and not seldom sublime. And we +have here an additional proof, that a true poetic Spirit, in whatever +Breast it inhabits, will create Thoughts, Language, and Numbers, worthy +of the Muse, however unfavourable the occupation and habits of Life. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was not without his fears, however, lest it +should be thought, that, although THE MUSE can visit a SHEPHERD'S BOY, +there may be some employments which exclude her influence. That a TAYLOR +should be a POET, he doubted, might appear too startling an Assertion. +And he had said accordingly to his Brother GEORGE, in a Letter, when +this Publication was first going to Press, "I want you to exclude the +word <i>Taylor</i>. Let there be no such Word in the Book. But perhaps I am +too late. I know there is in the public Mind as great contempt for him +who bears the appellation of <i>Taylor</i>, as STERNE has made old SHANDY +have for SIMKIN, NECKEY, or TRISTRAM. How many CAESARS and POMPEYS, says +he, by mere inspiration of the names, have been rendered worthy of them? +And how many are there who might have done exceedingly well in the +World, had not their Characters and Spirits been totally depress'd and +<i>Nicodemiz'd</i>; and I will add (says Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD) <i>taylor'd</i> into +nothing? In the REHEARSAL, the Author, to make the most ridiculous +part of it still more ridiculous, tells us, that it was written to a +<i>Taylor</i>, and by a <i>Taylor's Wife</i>. And even the discerning SPECTATOR +has given into this common-place raillery in the Monkey's Letter to her +Mistress. He has made the Soul which inhabited Pug's Body, in recounting +the humiliating State it had formerly been in, say, that he had been a +<i>Taylor</i>, a Shrimp, and a Tom-tit. It is from these causes, as well as +from the habits and appearance contracted by a recluse and sedentary +Life, that, in the enlighten'd, as well as the ignorant, the ideas of +<i>Taylor</i> and <i>Insignificance</i> are inseparably link'd together." +</p> + +<p> +I prevail'd, notwithstanding, that this word, whose <i>anti-poetic</i> +influence is so dreaded, should be in the Book. About half a Century +ago, there seem'd a degree of incredulity as to the possibility of +Courage in a <i>Taylor</i>. ELLIOT'S LIGHT HORSE, at that time compos'd of +<i>Taylor-Volunteers</i>. effectually overcame that prejudice. It remain'd +to dissolve another still more irrational prepossession, that a <i>Taylor +cannot be a Poet</i>. And this Volume will be a victorious Host against an +Army of such Prejudices. Indeed the Force is greater than such a Combat +requires: for stubborn as other Prejudices may still be, our litterary +Prejudices have, in this Age, been rapidly giving way to Candour, +Reason, Common-Sense, and the Evidence of Fact. We have long known that +a Scotch <i>Plough-Boy</i> and a <i>Milk-Woman</i><a id="footnotetag7" name="footnotetag7"></a><a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a> could still be Poets of high +and almost singular Excellence. And if Improbability were any thing +against Fact, it would be far more improbable, that two Brothers should +be such Poets as ROBERT and NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD are, than that a Taylor +should be a Poet. It remains then for Prejudice to vanish like Mists +before the Sun: while the two BROTHERS sociably ascend PARNASSUS +together; higher than ever Brothers have climbed before: I might add, +each of them to an height which but few have ever reach'd<a id="footnotetag8" name="footnotetag8"></a><a href="#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a>. +</p> + +<p> +CAPEL LOFFT. +<br /> +<i>Troston-Hall, 2 Jan: 1803.</i> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote1" name="footnote1"></a> +<b>Footnote 1</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a> +<p> +I had said, and certainly upon full authority, 23rd April; +which the Author his-self believ'd to be the Day: and had remarked +accordingly it was a Day distinguish'd by the <i>Birth</i> and <i>Death</i> +of SHAKESPERE. But Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD discover'd and immediately +communicated the mistake as to the Day. Thus we lose an interesting +coincidence: but we gain what is of greater value; a just and prompt +sacrifice to truth and candor. C.L.</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote2" name="footnote2"></a> +<b>Footnote 2</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag2">(return)</a> +<p>Who is mention'd in the <i>Preface</i> to <i>the Farmer's Boy</i>. +C.L.</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote3" name="footnote3"></a> +<b>Footnote 3</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag3">(return)</a> +<p> +If "<i>True natural Greatness all consists in height</i>," the +Family of the <i>Bloomfields</i>, is most unfortunate. The Father Mr. <i>George +Bloomfield</i> had 2 Inches less of this Greatness. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote4" name="footnote4"></a> +<b>Footnote 4</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag4">(return)</a> +<p> +I had a hint from both the Brothers, GEORGE and ROBERT, +that NATHANIEL had a turn for Poetry, and had written what they believ'd +would much please me. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote5" name="footnote5"></a> +<b>Footnote 5</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag5">(return)</a> +<p> +A name-sake and relation of the Author: of the Age, as I +understand, of about 14. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote6" name="footnote6"></a> +<b>Footnote 6</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag6">(return)</a> +<p> +I am half tempted to say of it +</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> <i>A Fist may hit him who a Sermon flies.</i></p> +</div></div> + + +<p> +Ridiculum aeri Fortius et melius magnas quandoque fecat res. C.L. +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote7" name="footnote7"></a> +<b>Footnote 7</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag7">(return)</a> +<p>BURNS, and Mrs. YEARSLEY.</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote8" name="footnote8"></a> +<b>Footnote 8</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag8">(return)</a> +<p> +<i>Pauci quos aequus amavit Jupiter</i>, atque ardens evexit +ad aethera Virtus, Felices, potuere! +</p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + +<h2> + CONTENTS +</h2> + + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>ESSAY ON WAR</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>HONINGTON GREEN</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>THE CULPRIT</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>YORKSHIRE DIP</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>LOVE'S TRIUMPH</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>PROVERBS OF THREESCORE</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>MORE BREAD AND CHEESE</p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER</p> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + ESSAY ON WAR +</h2> + + + + +<p> +[War for room required by encreased Population.—With Arts of Use +and Comfort spring those of War.—Blessings of the Infant State of +Society.—Peace cannot last beyond the Infancy of Society.—War +defined to preserve the equilibrium of Population.—War between hords +of emigrating Stranger Nations.—Invasions on account of violated +Women.—Love the strongest and most natural cause of War.—Violence of +conflicting Passions at sight of an Enemy.—Solitary wounded Combatant +amid the Dying and Dead.—Female Friends seeking for Dead or Wounded +Relatives.—Morning after the Battle—Sympathy—Compassion.—Long +remembrance of the Horrors of War.—Gunpowder; it's tremendous +effects.—Gunpowder, a humane discovery.—Castles &c. proofs of the +continued prevalence of War.—Men quit a peaceful Country to seek War +abroad.—History full of War.—Slavish Peace more cruel and more horrid +than War.—Obligations of Peace to the active Virtues of War.—Havock +of Peace more shocking than that of War.—War between Man and the rest +of the animal Creation.—War of the Elements and natural +Powers.—Recapitulation.... Conclusion.] +</p> + +<hr /> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p>Man's sad necessity, destructive War,</p> +<p>Sweeps to the grave the surplus of his sons,</p> +<p>Where'er the kindly clime and soil invite</p> +<p>To Love; and multiply the Human Race.</p> +<p class="i2"> Around the World, in every happier spot</p> +<p>Where Earth spontaneous gives nutritious fruits.</p> +<p>Her softest verdure courting human feet,</p> +<p>And mossy grot's, beneath protecting shades,</p> +<p>The Stranger's envy, the Possessor's pride;</p> +<p>There, as increasing numbers throng each bower.</p> +<p>Frequent and fatal rivalships arise;</p> +<p>And ruthless War erects his hideous crest.</p> +<p class="i2"> Soon as Appropriation's iron hand</p> +<p>Assays to grasp the Produce of the Earth;</p> +<p>And youths assert hereditary power,</p> +<p>Propriety exclusive, and in arms</p> +<p>League to defend their patrimonial rights,</p> +<p>Indisputable claim of Fruits and Fields</p> +<p>Contending, oft their massive clubs they raise</p> +<p>Against each other's life: often, alas,</p> +<p>The needy cravings of the unportion'd poor</p> +<p>Provoke their jealous wrath; relentlessly</p> +<p>Tenacious of their store, they shut him out,</p> +<p>'Midst desart Famine, and ferocious Beasts,</p> +<p>To guard his life and till the steril soil;</p> +<p>And thus extend the range of human feet.</p> +<p class="i2"> Still as Experience, in her tardy school,</p> +<p>Instructs the Shepherd and the Husbandman</p> +<p>To great increase their flocks and herds to rear,</p> +<p>To till the ground, and plant the fruitful tree</p> +<p>In slow progression rising into use,</p> +<p>Nurtur'd by Her the infant Arts appear.</p> +<p>While sage Experience thus teaches Man</p> +<p>The useful and the pleasant Arts of Life,</p> +<p>She in harsh lectures, in the frequent broil,</p> +<p>Enjoins her Pupil still to cultivate</p> +<p>The fatal, necessary Art of War.</p> +<p class="i2"> The Artizan, who from metallic ores</p> +<p>Forms the sharp implements to dress the glebe,</p> +<p>And prune the wild luxuriance of the tree; ...</p> +<p>By him is made the sword, the spear, the shaft,</p> +<p>By Man worn to defend him against Man.</p> +<p class="i2"> Most bless'd the country where kind Nature's face</p> +<p>In unsophisticated Freedom smiles:</p> +<p>Happy the tenants of primeval days</p> +<p>When young society is in it's spring:</p> +<p>Where there is room and food for millions more,</p> +<p>Love knows no check, the votaries of Love,</p> +<p>The happy votaries of Wedded Love,</p> +<p>Know not the curse of peopled, polish'd, times:</p> +<p>The curse to wish their children may be few.</p> +<p class="i2"> Sweet converse binds the cords of social love;</p> +<p>When the rude noise and gestures that ere while</p> +<p>Imperfectly express'd the labouring thought;</p> +<p>By social concourse are improv'd to Speech:</p> +<p>Speech, reasoning Man's distinguishing perfection;</p> +<p>Speech, the inestimable vehicle</p> +<p>Of mental light, and intellectual bliss;</p> +<p>Whence the fair fruits of Holy Friendship grow,</p> +<p>Presenting to fond Hope's enamour'd sight</p> +<p>The fairy prospect of perpetual Peace.</p> +<p>Advanc'd Society's prudential Laws,</p> +<p>The moral virtues of the enlighten'd mind,</p> +<p>And all the ties of Interest and of Love,</p> +<p>In vain conspire to nurse their favourite Peace,</p> +<p>And banish dire Immanity and War.</p> +<p>Strong Nature's bent, continual increase,</p> +<p>Still counteracts Humanity's fond wish,</p> +<p>The perpetuity of Peace, and Love;</p> +<p>Alas! progressive Increase cannot last.</p> +<p>Soon mourns the encumber'd land it's human load:</p> +<p>Too soon arrives the inauspicious hour;</p> +<p>The Natal Hour of the unhappy Man,</p> +<p>Who all his life goes mourning up and down</p> +<p>That there is neither bough, nor mud, nor straw</p> +<p>That he may take to make himself a hut;</p> +<p>No, not in all his native land a twig</p> +<p>That he may take, nor spot of green grass turf,</p> +<p>Where without trespass he may set his foot.</p> +<p>Now Want and Poverty wage War with Love;</p> +<p>And hard the conflict: horrible the thought,</p> +<p>That Love, who boasts of his all-conquering impulse,</p> +<p>Should have to mourn abortive energies...</p> +<p>But in proportion as Mankind increase,</p> +<p>So evils multiply: till Nature's self,</p> +<p>(The native passions of the human mind)</p> +<p>Engender War; which thins, and segregates,</p> +<p>And rectifies the balance of the world:</p> +<p>As thick-sown plants in the vegetable world,</p> +<p>With stretching branches wage continual War;</p> +<p>Each tender bud shrinks from the foreign touch</p> +<p>With a degree of sensitive perception;</p> +<p>Till one deforms, o'er-tops, and kills the other.</p> +<p class="i2"> Like Summer swarms, that quit their native hives,</p> +<p>The offspring of increasing families,</p> +<p>Who find no room beneath their father's roofs,</p> +<p>No patrimony nor employ at home,</p> +<p>Colleagu'd in bands explore the desart wilds,</p> +<p>To seek adventures; or to seek their food:</p> +<p>If chance they meet with rovers (like themselves)</p> +<p>Whose home is far away in distant vales,</p> +<p>Behind the mountains, or beyond the lake;</p> +<p>Instinctively they war where'er they meet:</p> +<p>The friendly parley cannot intervene;</p> +<p>The unknown tongue does but create alarm:</p> +<p>With jealous fears, stern looks, and brandish'd arms,</p> +<p>They stand aloof: as birds of distant groves</p> +<p>At the strange note prepare for instant War.</p> +<p class="i2"> At first they skirmishing dispute the right</p> +<p>Of hunting in the unappropriate waste:</p> +<p>But every onset aggravates their hate;</p> +<p>Till each increasing force, whetting their swords,</p> +<p>With purpos'd malice seeking out the foe,</p> +<p>Alternate by reprisal and revenge,</p> +<p>Doubly compensate each discomfiture,</p> +<p>Yet seek not to attack each-other's home,</p> +<p>Where Age, and Infancy, in safety dwell:</p> +<p>They war but with freebooters: private Peace</p> +<p>And Female Covert, Valour scorns to assail.</p> +<p>But when in evil hour some female hand,</p> +<p>Whether by force of Love, or force of Arms,</p> +<p>Is led across the desart by the Foe;</p> +<p>The jealous fury kindles to a flame:</p> +<p>No longer sacred the domestic hearth:</p> +<p>Fire, Death, and Devastation, mark their way,</p> +<p>And all the horrid crimes of savage War.</p> +<p class="i2"> Now War becomes the business of the State:</p> +<p>The most humane, the most pacific men,</p> +<p>Must arm for War, or lose all they hold dear:</p> +<p>The sorrows of the Aged, Infant cries,</p> +<p>And Female Tears, resistlessly prevail:</p> +<p>Can gentlest natures be in love with Peace,</p> +<p>When Love, most tender Love, excites to War?</p> +<p>No.... When some lov'd and honour'd youth distrest'd,</p> +<p>Raising his head amongst his arm'd compeers,</p> +<p>Tells that the well-known honourable Maid,</p> +<p>The Virgin Mistress of his dearest hopes,</p> +<p>Is ravish'd from him, borne by force away;</p> +<p>Though pierc'd with grief, yet nobly he exclaims,</p> +<p>'Think not I wish to embroil you in my fate:</p> +<p>'For though not one of you espouse my cause,</p> +<p>'I singly will attempt the desperate deed.</p> +<p>'Farewell: I go to find my Love, or die!'</p> +<p class="i2"> Silent and motionless the legions stand,</p> +<p>By looks examining each-other's heart:</p> +<p>But soon a murmur through the ranks proceeds,</p> +<p>Swelling as quickly a terrific roar;</p> +<p>Like heavy waters breaking from their mounds,</p> +<p>A long, and loud, and inarticulate shout,</p> +<p>While every weapon vibrates in the air,</p> +<p>And hisses it's fierce vengeance at the foe.</p> +<p class="i2"> The righteous cause admits of no delay;</p> +<p>No tardy foot impedes the immediate march:</p> +<p>The Enemy, not taken by surprise,</p> +<p>Wak'd by the watchful fears of conscious guilt,</p> +<p>On their frontiers await the coming foe.</p> +<p class="i2"> Now at the near approach of threatening Death,</p> +<p>Full many a thinking, sighing, aching heart,</p> +<p>Indulges secretly the hopeless wish</p> +<p>For Life, and Peace.... Alas! it cannot be:</p> +<p>To advance is to encounter dreadful danger;</p> +<p>But to recede, inevitable death;</p> +<p>His own associates would deal the blow:</p> +<p class="i2"> Thus led by Fate, behold upon the plain,</p> +<p>The adverse bands in view, and in advance.</p> +<p>Now Fear, Self-pity, and affected Courage,</p> +<p>Speak in their hideous shouts with voice scarce human;</p> +<p>Like that which issues from his hollow throat</p> +<p>Who sleeping bellows in a frightful dream.</p> +<p>More near their glaring eye-balls flashing meet;</p> +<p>Terror and Rage distorting every face,</p> +<p>Inflame each-other into trembling fury.</p> +<p class="i2"> Soft-ey'd Humanity, oh! veil thy sight!</p> +<p>Tis not in Rationality to view</p> +<p>(Even in thought) the dire ensuing scene;</p> +<p>For Madness, Madness reigns, and urges men</p> +<p>To deeds that Rationality disowns.</p> +<p class="i2"> Now here and there about the horrid Field,</p> +<p>Striding across the dying and the dead,</p> +<p>Stalks up a man by strength superior,</p> +<p>Or skill and prowess in the arduous fight,</p> +<p>Preserv'd alive: ... fainting he looks around;</p> +<p>Fearing pursuit, nor caring to pursue.</p> +<p>The supplicating voice of bitterest moans,</p> +<p>Contortions of excruciating pain,</p> +<p>The shriek of torture and the groan of death,</p> +<p>Surround him; and as Night her mantle spreads,</p> +<p>To veil the horrors of the mourning Field,</p> +<p>With cautious step shaping his devious way,</p> +<p>He seeks a covert where to hide and rest:</p> +<p>At every leaf that rustles in the breeze</p> +<p>Starting, he grasps his sword; and every nerve</p> +<p>Is ready strain'd, for combat or for flight.</p> +<p class="i2"> Thus list'ning to ward off approaching foes,</p> +<p>A distant whispering, fighting, murmuring sound</p> +<p>Salutes his ear, and to his throbbing heart</p> +<p>Soft tidings tells of tenderness and love.</p> +<p>For on that fatal day of vengeful ire.</p> +<p>At fearful distance following the host,</p> +<p>From either country came a female throng;</p> +<p>And now beneath the covert of the night</p> +<p>Advancing, guided by the voice of woe,</p> +<p>Where on the earth the wounded mourners lay,</p> +<p>With trembling steps and fearful whispering voice,</p> +<p>Each seeks, and calls him whom she came to seek:</p> +<p>And many a fugitive, whom force or fear</p> +<p>Had driven from the Field, steals softly back,</p> +<p>Anxious to know the fate of some lov'd friend.</p> +<p>Mutual fears appal the mingled group,</p> +<p>Starting alternate at the unknown tongue:</p> +<p>They fear a foe in each uncertain form</p> +<p>That through the gloom imperfectly appears.</p> +<p>The mournful horrors of the doleful night</p> +<p>Melt every heart: ... and when the morning's beam</p> +<p>Shews the sad scene, and gives an interview,</p> +<p>Resentment, that worst torment of the mind,</p> +<p>Resentment ceases, satiate wrath subsides.</p> +<p>Woman is present: and so strong the charm</p> +<p>Of weeping Woman's fascinating tears,</p> +<p>That though surviving Heroes' unwash'd hands</p> +<p>Still grasp the falchion of horrid hue,</p> +<p>And though their fallen brethren from the ground</p> +<p>May seem to call for Vengeance from their hands,</p> +<p>The impulse of Revenge is felt no more;</p> +<p>No more the strange attire, the foreign tongue</p> +<p>Creates alarm: for Nature's-self has writ</p> +<p>In every face; where every eye can read</p> +<p>Repentant Sorrow, and forgiving Love.</p> +<p>Their mingled tears wash the lamented dead:</p> +<p>On every wound they pour soft Pity's balm:</p> +<p>Ere Sorrow's tears are dried, they feel the spring</p> +<p>Of new-born joys, and each expanding heart</p> +<p>Contemplates future scenes of Peace and Love.</p> +<p class="i2"> Long, even as long as room and food abound,</p> +<p>They interchange their friendly offices</p> +<p>For mutual good; reciprocally kind:</p> +<p>And much they wonder that they e'er were foes.</p> +<p>Still War's terrific name is kept alive:</p> +<p>Tradition, pointing to the rusty arms</p> +<p>That hang on high, informs each list'ning youth</p> +<p>How erst in fatal fields their Grandsires fell;</p> +<p>Childhood attentive hears the tragic tale;</p> +<p>And learns to shudder at the name of War.</p> +<p class="i2"> GUNPOWDER! let the Soldier's Pean rise,</p> +<p>Where e'er thy name or thundering voice is heard:</p> +<p>Let him who, fated to the needful trade,</p> +<p>Deals out the adventitious shafts of Death,</p> +<p>Rejoice in thee; and hail with loudest shouts</p> +<p>The auspicious era when deep-searching Art</p> +<p>From out the hidden things in Nature's store</p> +<p>Cull'd thy tremendous powers, and tutor'd Man</p> +<p>To chain the unruly element of Fire</p> +<p>At his controul, to wait his potent touch:</p> +<p>To urge his missile bolts of sudden Death,</p> +<p>And thunder terribly his vengeful wrath.</p> +<p>Thy mighty engines and gigantic towers</p> +<p>With frowning aspect awe the trembling World.</p> +<p>Destruction, bursting from thy sudden blaze</p> +<p>Hath taught the Birds to tremble at the sound;</p> +<p>And Man himself, thy terror's boasted lord,</p> +<p>Within the blacken'd hollow of thy tube,</p> +<p>Affrighted sees the darksome shades of Death.</p> +<p>Not only mourning groves, but human tears,</p> +<p>The weeping Widow's tears, the Orphan's cries,</p> +<p>Sadly deplore that e'er thy powers were known.</p> +<p>Yet let thy Advent be the Soldier's song,</p> +<p>No longer doom'd to grapple with the Foe</p> +<p>With Teeth and Nails—When close in view, and in</p> +<p>Each-other's grasp, to grin, and hack, and stab;</p> +<p>Then tug his horrid weapon from one breast</p> +<p>To hide it in another:—with clear hands</p> +<p>He now expertly poizing thy bright tube,</p> +<p>At distance kills, unknowing and unknown;</p> +<p>Sees not the wound he gives, nor hears the shriek</p> +<p>Of him whose breast he pierces.... GUNPOWDER!</p> +<p>(O! let Humanity rejoice) how much</p> +<p>The Soldier's fearful work is humaniz'd,</p> +<p>Since thy momentous birth—stupendous power.</p> +<p class="i2"> In Britain, where the hills and fertile plains,</p> +<p>Like her historic page, are overspread</p> +<p>With vestiges of War, the Shepherd Boy</p> +<p>Climbs the green hillock to survey his flock;</p> +<p>Then sweetly sleeps upon his favourite hill,</p> +<p>Not conscious that his bed's a Warrior's Tomb.</p> +<p class="i2"> The ancient Mansions, deeply moated round,</p> +<p>Where, in the iron Age of Chivalry,</p> +<p>Redoubted Barons wag'd their little Wars;</p> +<p>The strong Entrenchments and enormous Mounds,</p> +<p>Rais'd to oppose the fierce, perfidious Danes;</p> +<p>And still more ancient traces that remain</p> +<p>Of Dykes and Camps, from the far distant date</p> +<p>When minstrel Druids wak'd the soul of War,</p> +<p>And rous'd to arms old Albion's hardy sons,</p> +<p>To stem the tide of Roman Tyranny: ...</p> +<p>War's footsteps, thus imprinted on the ground,</p> +<p>Shew that in Britain he, from age to age,</p> +<p>Has rear'd his horrid head, and raging reign'd.</p> +<p class="i2"> Long on the margins of the silver Tweed</p> +<p>Opposing Ensigns wav'd; War's clarion</p> +<p>Dreadfully echo'd down the winding stream,</p> +<p>Where now sweet Peace and Unity reside:</p> +<p>The happy peasant of Tweed's smiling dale,</p> +<p>Whene'er his spade disturbs a Soldier's bones,</p> +<p>With shudd'ring horror ruminates on War;</p> +<p>Then deeper hides the awful spectacle,</p> +<p>Blessing the peaceful days in which he lives</p> +<p class="i2"> Since Peace has bless'd the villages on Tweed,</p> +<p>And War has ceas'd to drive his iron car</p> +<p>On Britain's shore, what myriads of men</p> +<p>Over the Eastern and the Western Seas</p> +<p>Have follow'd War, and found untimely graves.</p> +<p>Where'er the jarring interests of States</p> +<p>Excite the brave to' advance their native land</p> +<p>By deeds of arms, Britons are foremost found.</p> +<p>The sprightly bands, hast'ning from place to place,</p> +<p>Gayly carousing in their gay attire,</p> +<p>Invite, not force the train of heedless youths,</p> +<p>Who croud to share their jollity and joy:</p> +<p>To martial music dancing into death,</p> +<p>They fell their Freedom for a holiday;</p> +<p>And with the Rich and Great 'tis Glory charms,</p> +<p>And Beauty's favour that rewards the Brave.</p> +<p class="i2"> All the historic Records of the World</p> +<p>Are little more than histories of Wars;</p> +<p>Shewing how many thousands War destroy'd,</p> +<p>The time, the place, and some few great ones' names.</p> +<p>The mournful remnants of demolished States,</p> +<p>The Greek, the Roman, and long-exil'd Jew;</p> +<p>Are living monuments of wasting War's</p> +<p>Annihilating power: and while they mourn</p> +<p>Their Grandeur faded, and their Power extinct,</p> +<p>To every State <i>memento mori</i> sounds.</p> +<p>From age to age the habitable World</p> +<p>Has been a constant theatre of War:</p> +<p>In every land with Nature's gifts most blest,</p> +<p>Frequent and fatal Wars destructive rage.</p> +<p>So bland is fair Britannia's genial clime,</p> +<p>So liberal her all-protecting Laws,</p> +<p>So generous the spirit of her Sons,</p> +<p>So fond, so chaste, her Daughters virtuous love,</p> +<p>That human offspring still redundant grows,</p> +<p>And free-born Britons must contend for life.</p> +<p class="i2"> O! envy not the lands where Slaves reside,</p> +<p>Though their proud Tyrants boast of <i>peaceful</i> reign,</p> +<p>Where hard Oppression, freezing genial love,</p> +<p>Performs the work of War in embryo:</p> +<p>Let not mistaken fondness doat on Peace,</p> +<p>Preserv'd by arts more horrid far than War! ...</p> +<p>Let the dull languor of the pale Chinese</p> +<p>Desert their Infants, and their <i>Peace</i> enjoy!</p> +<p>But, O! let Britons still in Love and War</p> +<p>Exert the generous ardour of the soul;</p> +<p>Protect the Fair, and foster Infancy.</p> +<p class="i2"> By strenuous enterprize, and arduous toils,</p> +<p>Is public safety purchas'd and secur'd.</p> +<p>Negative merit, "I have done no harm,"</p> +<p>Is an inglorious boast: shall he who sits</p> +<p>Secure, enjoying Plenty in the lap</p> +<p>Of Ease, vaunt his recumbent Virtues? ... He</p> +<p>Brand with harsh epithets the Warrior's toils?</p> +<p>While 'tis to them he owes sincerest thanks</p> +<p>For Peace and Safety, that are earn'd in War....</p> +<p>As well might he who eats the flesh of Lambs,</p> +<p>And smacks the ichor in a savoury dish,</p> +<p>Boast his humanity, and say "My hand</p> +<p>Ne'er slew a Lamb;" and censure as a crime,</p> +<p>The Butcher's cruel, necessary trade.</p> +<p class="i2"> In Battle, the chance-medley game of Death,</p> +<p>Where every one still hopes 'till he expires,</p> +<p>Less horror shocks the mind contemplative,</p> +<p>Than where, in slow procession's solemn pace,</p> +<p>Doom'd wretches meet their destin'd fate in bonds,</p> +<p>Who know the moment to expect the blow,</p> +<p>And count the moments 'till that moment comes:</p> +<p>Or where Oppression wages War, in Peace,</p> +<p>On the defenceless: on the hapless man</p> +<p>Who holds his breath but by another's will:</p> +<p>Whose Life is only one long cruel Death! ...</p> +<p>Hardly he fares, and hopelessly he toils;</p> +<p>And when his driver's anger, or caprice,</p> +<p>Or wanton cruelty, inflicts a blow,</p> +<p>Not daring to look angry at the whip,</p> +<p>Oh! see him meekly clasp his hands and bow</p> +<p>To every stroke: no lurid deathful scene</p> +<p>In Battle's rage, so racks the feeling heart;</p> +<p>Not all the thunders of infuriate War,</p> +<p>Disploding mines, and crafting, bursting bombs,</p> +<p>Are half so horrid as the sounding lash</p> +<p>That echoes through the Carribean groves.</p> +<p class="i2"> Incessant is the War of Human Wit,</p> +<p>Oppos'd to bestial strength; and variously</p> +<p>Successful: in these happy fertile climes,</p> +<p>Man still maintains his surreptitious power;</p> +<p>Reigns o'er the Brutes, and, with the voice of Fate,</p> +<p>Says "This to-day, and that to-morrow dies."</p> +<p>Though here our Shambles blazon the Renown,</p> +<p>The Victory, and Rule, of lordly Man;</p> +<p>Far wider tracts within the Torrid Zone</p> +<p>Own no such Lord: where Sol's intenser rays</p> +<p>Create in bestial hearts more fervid fires,</p> +<p>And deadlier poisons arm the Serpent's tooth;</p> +<p>In gloomy shades, impassable to Man,</p> +<p>Where matted foliage exclude the Sun,</p> +<p>The torpid Birds that crawl from bough to bough</p> +<p>Utter their notes of terror: while beneath</p> +<p>Fury and Venom, couch'd in murky dens,</p> +<p>Hissing and yelling, guard the hideous gloom.</p> +<p>O'er dreary wastes, untrod by human feet,</p> +<p>Without controul the lordly Lion reigns;</p> +<p>And every creature trembles at his voice:</p> +<p>When risen from his den, he prances forth,</p> +<p>Extends his talons, shakes his flaky mane,</p> +<p>Then whurrs his tufted tail, and stooping low</p> +<p>His wide mouth near the ground, his dreadful roar</p> +<p>Makes all the desart tremble: he proclaims</p> +<p>His ire—proclaims his strong necessity;</p> +<p>And that surprise or artifice he scorns.</p> +<p class="i2"> Unskill'd, alas! in philosophic lore,</p> +<p>Unbless'd with scientific erudition;</p> +<p>How can I sing of elemental War,</p> +<p>Or the contending powers of opposite</p> +<p>Attractions, that impel, and poize, and guide,</p> +<p>The ever-rolling Spheres: Animal War,</p> +<p>The flux of Life, devouring and devour'd,</p> +<p>Ceaseless in every tribe, through Earth, and Air,</p> +<p>And Ocean, transcends my utmost ken.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"> From obvious truths my Song has aim'd to shew</p> +<p>That War is an inevitable Ill;</p> +<p>An Ill through Nature's various Realms diffus'd;</p> +<p>An Ill subservient to the General Good.</p> +<p class="i2"> With sympathetic sense of human woes</p> +<p>Deeply impress'd, the melancholy Muse</p> +<p>With modesty asserts this mournful Truth:</p> +<p>'Tis not in human wisdom to avert,</p> +<p>Though every feeling heart must sure lament,</p> +<p>The SAD NECESSITY of FATAL WAR.</p> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + ELEGY +</h2> + + + +<h3> +ON THE ENCLOSURE OF HONINGTON GREEN. +</h3> + + +<p> +[Motives of Enclosure.—Natural Pleasures and humble Convenience lost by +it.—Recollections of the Spot.... The Mother.—The Father.—Character +of his Mind.—The Widow.... Maternal Cares.—The Green.... It's Beauties +and Pleasures.—The Enclosure in general less an object to the +Poor.—Under whatever Change the Man will adapt itself.—The new Scene +will find it's Admirers.—Pleasures are as the Mind and it's Habits.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Improvement extends it's domain;</p> +<p class="i2"> The Shepherds of Britain deplore</p> + <p> That the Coulter has furrow'd each plain,</p> +<p class="i2"> And their calling is needful no more.</p> + <p> "Enclosing Land doubles its use;</p> +<p class="i2"> When cultur'd, the heath and the moor</p> + <p> Will the Riches of Ceres produce,</p> +<p class="i2"> Yet feed as large flocks as before."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Such a lucrative maxim as this</p> +<p class="i2"> The Lords of the Land all pursue,</p> + <p> For who such advantage wou'd miss?</p> +<p class="i2"> Self-int'rest we all keep in view.</p> + <p> By it, they still more wealth amass,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who possess'd great abundance before;</p> + <p> It gives pow'r to the Great, but alas!</p> +<p class="i2"> Still poorer it renders the Poor.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Taste spreads, her refinements around,</p> +<p class="i2"> Enriching her favourite Land</p> + <p> With prospects of beautified ground,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where, cinctur'd, the spruce Villas stand;</p> + <p> On the causeways, that never are foul,</p> +<p class="i2"> Marshal'd bands may with measur'd pace tread;</p> + <p> The soft Car of Voluptuousness roll,</p> +<p class="i2"> And the proud Steed of Greatness parade.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Those fenc'd ways that so even are made,</p> +<p class="i2"> The pedestrian traveler bemoans;</p> + <p> He no more the green carpet may tread,</p> +<p class="i2"> But plod on, 'midst the gravel and stones:</p> + <p> And if he would rest with his load,</p> +<p class="i2"> No green hillock presents him a seat,</p> + <p> But long, hard, tiresome sameness of road</p> +<p class="i2"> Fatigues both the eye and the feet.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Sighs speak the poor Labourers' pain,</p> +<p class="i2"> While the new mounds and fences they rear,</p> + <p> Intersecting their dear native plain,</p> +<p class="i2"> To divide to each rich Man his share;</p> + <p> It cannot but grieve them to see,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where so freely they rambled before,</p> + <p> What a bare narrow track is left free</p> +<p class="i2"> To the foot of the unportion'd Poor.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> The proud City's gay wealthy train.</p> +<p class="i2"> Who nought but refinements adore,</p> + <p> May wonder to hear me complain</p> +<p class="i2"> That Honington Green is no more;</p> + <p> But if to the Church you e'er went,</p> +<p class="i2"> If you knew what the village has been,</p> + <p> You will sympathize, while I lament</p> +<p class="i2"> The Enclosure of Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 7</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> That no more upon Honington Green</p> +<p class="i2"> Dwells the Matron whom most I revere,</p> + <p> If by pert observation unseen,</p> +<p class="i2"> I e'en now could indulge a fond tear.</p> + <p> E'er her bright Morn of Life was o'ercast,</p> +<p class="i2"> When my senses first woke to the scene,</p> + <p> Some short happy hours she had past</p> +<p class="i2"> On the margin of Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 8</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Her Parents with Plenty were blest,</p> +<p class="i2"> And nume'rous her Children, and young,</p> + <p> Youth's Blossoms her cheek yet possest,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Melody woke when she sung:</p> + <p> A Widow so youthful to leave,</p> +<p class="i2"> (Early clos'd the blest days he had seen)</p> + <p> My Father was laid in his grave,</p> +<p class="i2"> In the Church-yard on Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 9</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> I faintly remember the Man,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who died when I was but a Child;</p> + <p> But far as my young mind could scan,</p> +<p class="i2"> His manners were gentle and mild:</p> + <p> He won infant ears with his lore,</p> +<p class="i2"> Nor let young ideas run wild,</p> + <p> Tho' his hand the severe rod of pow'r</p> +<p class="i2"> Never sway'd o'er a trembling Child.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 10</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Not anxiously careful for pelf,</p> +<p class="i2"> Melancholic and thoughtful, his mind</p> + <p> Look'd inward and dwelt on itself,</p> +<p class="i2"> Still pensive, pathetic, and kind;</p> + <p> Yet oft in despondency drown'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> He from friends, and from converse would fly.</p> + <p> In weeping a luxury found,</p> +<p class="i2"> And reliev'd others' woes with a sigh.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 11</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> In solitude long would he stay,</p> +<p class="i2"> And long lock'd in silence his tongue;</p> + <p> Then he humm'd an elegiac lay,</p> +<p class="i2"> Or a Psalm penitential he sung:</p> + <p> But if with his Friends he regal'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> His Mirth, as his Griefs, knew no bounds;</p> + <p> In no Tale of Mark Sargent he sail'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Nor in all Robin Hood's Derry-downs.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 12</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Thro' the poor Widow's long lonely years,</p> +<p class="i2"> Her Father supported us all:</p> + <p> Yet sure she was loaded with cares,</p> +<p class="i2"> Being left with six Children so small.</p> + <p> Meagre Want never lifted her latch;</p> +<p class="i2"> Her cottage was still tight and clean;</p> + <p> And the casement beneath it's low thatch</p> +<p class="i2"> Commanded a view o'er the Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 13</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> O'er the Green, where so often she blest</p> +<p class="i2"> The return of a Husband or Son,</p> + <p> Coming happily home to their rest,</p> +<p class="i2"> At night, when their labour, was done:</p> + <p> Where so oft in her earlier years,</p> +<p class="i2"> She, with transport maternal, has seen</p> + <p> (While plying her housewifely cares)</p> +<p class="i2"> Her Children all safe on the Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 14</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> The Green was our pride through the year,</p> +<p class="i2"> For in Spring, when the wild flow'rets blew,</p> + <p> Tho' many rich pastures were near,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where Cowslips and Daffodils grew;</p> + <p> And tho' such gallant flow'rs were our choice,</p> +<p class="i2"> It was bliss interrupted by Fear—</p> + <p> The Fear of their Owner's dread voice,</p> +<p class="i2"> Harshly bawling "You've no business here."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 15</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> While the Green, tho' but Daisies it's boast,</p> +<p class="i2"> Was free as the Flow'rs to the Bee;</p> + <p> In all seasons the Green we lov'd most,</p> +<p class="i2"> Because on the Green we were free;</p> + <p> 'Twas the prospect that first met my eyes,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Memory still blesses the scene;</p> + <p> For early my heart learnt to prize</p> +<p class="i2"> The Freedom of Honington Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 16</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> No Peasant had pin'd at his lot,</p> +<p class="i2"> Tho' new fences the lone Heath enclose:</p> + <p> For, alas! the blest days are forgot,</p> +<p class="i2"> When poor Men had their Sheep and their Cows.</p> + <p> Still had Labour been blest with Content,</p> +<p class="i2"> Still Competence happy had been,</p> + <p> Nor Indigence utter'd a plaint,</p> +<p class="i2"> Had Avarice spar'd but the Green.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 17</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Not Avarice itself could be mov'd</p> +<p class="i2"> By desire of a morsel so small:</p> + <p> It could not be lucre he lov'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> But to rob the poor folk of their all.</p> + <p> He in wantonness ope'd his wide jaws,</p> +<p class="i2"> As a Shark may disport with the Fry;</p> + <p> Or a Lion, when licking his paws,</p> +<p class="i2"> May wantonly snap at a Fly.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 18</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Could there live such an envious Man,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who endur'd not the halcyon scene?</p> + <p> When the infantine Peasantry ran,</p> +<p class="i2"> And roll'd on the daisy-deck'd Green:</p> + <p> Ah! sure 'twas fell Envy's despite,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest Indigence tasted of Bliss,</p> + <p> That sternly decreed they've no right</p> +<p class="i2"> To innocent pleasure like this.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 19</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Tho' the Youth of to-day must deplore—</p> +<p class="i2"> The rough mounds that now sadden the scene,</p> + <p> The vain stretch of Misanthropy's Power,</p> +<p class="i2"> The Enclosure of Honington Green.</p> + <p> Yet when not a green turf is left free,</p> +<p class="i2"> When not one odd nook is left wild,</p> + <p> Will the Children of Honington be</p> +<p class="i2"> Less blest than when I was a Child?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 20</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> No! ... Childhood shall find the scene fair,</p> +<p class="i2"> Then here let me cease my complaint;</p> + <p> Still shall Health be inhal'd with the Air,</p> +<p class="i2"> Which at Honington cannot be taint:</p> + <p> And tho' Age may still talk of the Green,</p> +<p class="i2"> Of the Heath, and free Commons of yore,</p> + <p> Youth shall joy in the new-fangled scene,</p> +<p class="i2"> And boast of <i>that</i> change we deplore.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 21</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Dear to me was the wild-thorny Hill,</p> +<p class="i2"> And dear the brown Heath's sober scene;</p> + <p> And Youth shall find Happiness still,</p> +<p class="i2"> Tho' he roves not on Common or Green:</p> + <p> Tho' the pressure of Wealth's lordly hand</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall give Emulation no scope,</p> + <p> And tho' all the' appropriate Land</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall leave Indigence nothing to hope.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 22</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> So happily flexile Man's make.</p> +<p class="i2"> So pliantly docile his mind,</p> + <p> Surrounding impressions we take,</p> +<p class="i2"> And bliss in each circumstance find.</p> + <p> The Youths of a more polish'd Age</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall not wish these rude Commons to see;</p> + <p> To the Bird that's inur'd to the Cage,</p> +<p class="i2"> It would not be Bills to be free.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + THE CULPRIT. +</h2> + + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> "<i>Man hard of heart to Man! ... of horrid things</i></p> + <p> <i>Most horrid; midst stupendous highly strange:</i></p> + <p> <i>Yet oft his courtesies are smoother wrongs;</i></p> + <p> <i>Pride brandishes the favours he confers,</i></p> + <p> <i>And contumelious his Humanity.</i></p> + <p> <i>What then his vengeance? hear it not, ye Stars,</i></p> + <p> <i>And thou, pale Moon, turn paler at the sound</i>: ...</p> + <p> <i>Man is to Man the sorest, surest Ill.</i>"</p> +</div></div> + + +<h4> +YOUNG. +</h4> + +<hr /> + +<p> +[His Reflections on the Propensity to gaze on Misery.—Military +Punishments.—Eager Curiosity of Spectators.—Theatric Amusements.—He +examines the Motives where the Distress is real.—His Dread from the +Disposition of Mankind.—The Jury withdrawn.... His Reflections.—Full +of apprehension.... effect of Pride in maintaing an opinion.—His fears +from the diminished regard of an Oath.—This idea pursued.—Instance +of false Shame.... of contempt of Shame.—Perjury.—Duty of +Deliberation.... Misbodings.—Hopes from mild and conscientious +feelings.—Conflict of Hope, Doubt, and Fear.—The Verdict.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> 'Man hard of heart! of horrid things</p> +<p class="i2"> Most horrid! and of strange most strange:'...</p> + <p> Thus the mournful Poet sings,</p> +<p class="i2"> Experienc'd in Life's various range.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> In the hopeful morn of Youth,</p> +<p class="i2"> This serious Song I lov'd and learn'd,</p> + <p> Nor ever thought the mournful truth</p> +<p class="i2"> Would ever thus by me be mourn'd.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ne'er thought I ever thus should stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> The butt of every tearful eye;</p> + <p> To raise the Culprit's trembling hand,</p> +<p class="i2"> To heave the Culprit's anxious sigh.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Now the mournful truth to prove,</p> +<p class="i2"> Gazing crouds around I see,</p> + <p> For sure 'tis cruel selfish love</p> +<p class="i2"> That brings them here to gaze on me.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> 'Tis thus wherever human woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> Wherever deep distress appears;</p> + <p> Thither curious gazers go,</p> +<p class="i2"> To' insult the wretched with their tears.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> E'en where hostile armies join</p> +<p class="i2"> In the horrid frightful fray,</p> + <p> Where groaning mortals life resign,</p> +<p class="i2"> I've heard their fellow-mortal say—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> 'Oh! for a safe and lofty stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where I the Battle's rage might see;</p> + <p> When Carnage, with relentless hand,</p> +<p class="i2"> Strews the Ground, or stains the Sea.'<a id="footnotetag9" name="footnotetag9"></a><a href="#footnote9"><sup>9</sup></a></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When list'ning, with suspended breath,</p> +<p class="i2"> A wretch his dreadful sentence hears,</p> + <p> In Martial Court, where worse than Death</p> +<p class="i2"> The Military Culprit fears.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And when encircled by the band,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lingering torments, public shame,</p> + <p> Severity's most ruthless hand</p> +<p class="i2"> Lacerates his manly frame:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When many a hardy Soldier weeps,</p> +<p class="i2"> And grieves that he's compell'd to stay;</p> + <p> Who perforce his station keeps,</p> +<p class="i2"> Or would soon be far away;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yet see beyond the circling guard,</p> +<p class="i2"> Idle gazers flocking round,</p> + <p> To see and hear are pressing hard,</p> +<p class="i2"> As if the spot were fairy ground.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> What is it that a charm imparts?</p> +<p class="i2"> Why do they press to hear and see?</p> + <p> Can it be that human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> Delight in human misery?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When the inexorable hour</p> +<p class="i2"> Chills the hopeless convict's blood;</p> + <p> When sunk and drown'd his eve'ry power,</p> +<p class="i2"> In sorrow's overwhelming flood:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> To view the scene the many run,</p> +<p class="i2"> And o'er the hapless wretch to sigh:</p> + <p> Nor once enquire the crime he' has done; ...</p> +<p class="i2"> They only come to see him die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Various cares mankind employ;</p> +<p class="i2"> But to gaze on human woe</p> + <p> Seems the universal joy,</p> +<p class="i2"> For which they all their cares forego.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Each from his pursuit departs,</p> +<p class="i2"> Suffering, dying Man to see;</p> + <p> Surely there are human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> That joy in human misery.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Where fictitious tragic woe</p> +<p class="i2"> Entertains the gaudy ring,</p> + <p> Each the horror can forego,</p> +<p class="i2"> And instant mental comfort bring.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When the spirits take alarm,</p> +<p class="i2"> Prompt to anger, grief, or spleen,</p> + <p> Reason can dissolve the charm,</p> +<p class="i2"> And say, 'tis a fictitious scene.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> But to scenes of real woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where a wretch is truely dying,</p> + <p> Wherefore do such numbers go,</p> +<p class="i2"> What can be the joy of sighing?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Men of thought, who soar serene,</p> +<p class="i2"> And loftily philosophize,</p> + <p> Will say they seek the solemn scene,</p> +<p class="i2"> To contemplate and sympathize.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And all the throng will tell you so: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis sympathy that brings them there;</p> + <p> They love to weep for others' woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> And come but to enjoy a tear.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> If to <i>enjoy</i> the tear that starts,</p> +<p class="i2"> They run the sorrow'd scene to see—</p> + <p> Alas! for pity ... human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> Delight in human misery.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Still my wretched thought thus strays,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Midst gloomy scenes and prospects drear;</p> + <p> My weary mind, in various ways</p> +<p class="i2"> Seeking Hope, still finds Despair.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> This thought a weight of woe imparts,</p> +<p class="i2"> At once to sink a wretch like me;</p> + <p> What can I hope, if human hearts</p> +<p class="i2"> Delight in human misery?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Tortur'd by severe suspense,</p> +<p class="i2"> I the Jurors' Verdict wait,</p> + <p> Ere I may depart from hence,</p> +<p class="i2"> Their decision seals my fate.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Now withdrawn, their close debate</p> +<p class="i2"> Admits no curious, list'ening ear,</p> + <p> But the result's so big with fate,</p> +<p class="i2"> The Culprit must in thought be there.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And now, led on by sad despair,</p> +<p class="i2"> Does a frightful form obtrude;</p> + <p> Vindictive Spleen assumes the air</p> +<p class="i2"> Of noble, manly Fortitude.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And thus I hear the Demon say,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Let us not abuse our trust;</p> + <p> 'We must not be led away</p> +<p class="i2"> 'For mercy's sake, to be unjust.'</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yet he'll profess no wrath to feel</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Gainst such a hapless wretch as I;</p> + <p> No! ... but for the public weal,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis expedient that I die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And this his judgment once made known,</p> +<p class="i2"> Self-love and self-conceit's so strong,</p> + <p> He'll rather let me die than own</p> +<p class="i2"> That his opinion could be wrong.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ye who the lore of distant climes</p> +<p class="i2"> Canvass, latent truth to find;</p> + <p> Who hail our philosophic times,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Man's emancipated mind:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Oh! ye who boast the enlighten'd age,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who boast your right of thinking free ...</p> + <p> If e'er ye learn the lessons sage,</p> +<p class="i2"> Taught in affliction's school like me,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Should you e'er a Culprit stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> You'll wish mankind all Christians then;</p> + <p> If e'er you raise the Culprit's hand,</p> +<p class="i2"> You'll wish the Jurors Christian Men.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When at the dread Confessional,</p> +<p class="i2"> Men trembled from their early youth,</p> + <p> Taught to fear, on pain of Hell,</p> +<p class="i2"> To utter more or less than Truth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Then Faith could sharpest trials stand,</p> +<p class="i2"> Man at threat'ning Death could smile,</p> + <p> If but his Pastor's lenient hand</p> +<p class="i2"> Toucht him with the Holy Oil.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Full faith the solemn Oath obtain'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Man's mind was aw'd by priestly rule;</p> + <p> Steady to Truth he still remain'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Unless to priestly fraud a tool.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> But where Church Discipline has ceas'd</p> +<p class="i2"> To train men's minds in early youth,</p> + <p> Hard indeed the Culprit's case,</p> +<p class="i2"> Whose fate depends on others' truth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Even the man whose ways are wise,</p> +<p class="i2"> Whose life is rul'd by Honour's laws;</p> + <p> Who owns, in philosophic guise,</p> +<p class="i2"> A Deity ... a first great cause: ...</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yet boasts his mind no shackles wears: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis hard his solemn Oath to trust;</p> + <p> For, without future hopes and fears,</p> +<p class="i2"> Know I if Conscience makes him just? ...</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And then, the' admitted evidence ...</p> +<p class="i2"> Ye Jurors, can his word be true?</p> + <p> Tempted, in his own defence,</p> +<p class="i2"> To feign another's crime to you.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When venial crimes in Love's gay spring,</p> +<p class="i2"> Prompt the youthful Female's sigh;</p> + <p> When her roses all take wing,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Matrons sage her plight descry;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Blushing, weeping, she'll confess</p> +<p class="i2"> The fault her faded cheeks discover:</p> + <p> But, to make her crime the less,</p> +<p class="i2"> Imputes an outrage to her Lover.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> So strong the power of pride and shame,</p> +<p class="i2"> Her frailty she will still deny;</p> + <p> Rather than own herself to blame,</p> +<p class="i2"> She lets the hapless Lover die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Is Merit from his right debarr'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> Or guiltless charg'd with foul offence?</p> + <p> A Knave but speaks the perjur'd word,</p> +<p class="i2"> And laughs at injur'd Innocence.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Laughs he at detection too?</p> +<p class="i2"> Yes ... for he'll be but expos'd;</p> + <p> But set up to public view,</p> +<p class="i2"> Should his falshood be disclos'd.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> He such exposure dares defy,</p> +<p class="i2"> Public shame is not his fear;</p> + <p> He who can vouch the solemn lie,</p> +<p class="i2"> Would shew his forehead any where.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> While Innocence meets punishment,</p> +<p class="i2"> While Falshood can produce such woes,</p> + <p> Mercy's self must needs lament</p> +<p class="i2"> Perjury not more punish'd goes.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Dubious may be the Culprit's case,</p> +<p class="i2"> Though clear and open all his ways;</p> + <p> What Life is proof 'gainst dire disgrace,</p> +<p class="i2"> If guileful hate his act pourtrays?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ye Jurors cautiously proceed,</p> +<p class="i2"> When the question's left to you,</p> + <p> Not 'Has the Culprit done the deed?'</p> +<p class="i2"> But 'Was the deed a crime to do?'<a id="footnotetag10" name="footnotetag10"></a><a href="#footnote10"><sup>10</sup></a></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Grudge not deliberation's time,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest you should be too severe;</p> + <p> When Justice must believe a crime,</p> +<p class="i2"> She lends it her most tardy ear.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> How short is this momentous hour!</p> +<p class="i2"> O! how swift the minutes fly!</p> + <p> Soon the Jurors, arm'd with power,</p> +<p class="i2"> Will come to bid me live or die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Pointed thoughts of Life and Death,</p> +<p class="i2"> Anxious sore solicitude,</p> + <p> Shake my frame, suspend my breath,</p> +<p class="i2"> When Terror's gloomy shades protrude.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> But when Hope cheers me with the sound</p> +<p class="i2"> Of Mercy's voice, of Mercy's plea,</p> + <p> And tells me Mercy will be found</p> +<p class="i2"> Amongst the twelve to speak for me,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Rapt Fancy hears the Cherub plead: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> Propitious is the Culprit's fate,</p> + <p> If one, by tender mercy sway'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Amongst the Jurors takes his seat.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> One who will meek-ey'd Mercy's laws</p> +<p class="i2"> Oppose to Rigour's doubtful rule ...</p> + <p> Nor quit the hapless Culprit's cause,</p> +<p class="i2"> Though sterner Judgements deem him fool.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Blessings that wait his heart, his tongue,</p> +<p class="i2"> Cannot elate his tranquil breast:</p> + <p> He courts no blessing from the throng;</p> +<p class="i2"> He is, and ever will be, blest.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> He shall win the Jury's ear,</p> +<p class="i2"> Pity glist'ning in his eye;</p> + <p> Let us not be too severe....</p> +<p class="i2"> If we let the Culprit die,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Fruitlessly we may bewail</p> +<p class="i2"> In future, should our hearts relent:</p> + <p> O! then let Mercy's voice prevail;</p> +<p class="i2"> Mercy we can ne'er repent.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Mercy smiles, and every face</p> +<p class="i2"> Reflects the Cherub's aspect meek;</p> + <p> Glowing with her resistless grace,</p> +<p class="i2"> Mercy beams on every cheek.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Hope, thy presage cannot fail.</p> +<p class="i2"> Bid my Mary cease to mourn;</p> + <p> Surely Mercy shall prevail,</p> +<p class="i2"> And I to Love and Life return.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Shall I the lenient Verdict hear,</p> +<p class="i2"> Thrilling through my shivering frame?</p> + <p> Ye Jurors, clad in smiles appear,</p> +<p class="i2"> To realize this happy dream.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Their Deliberation's o'er,</p> +<p class="i2"> How shall I the Crisis meet?</p> + <p> Hark! I hear the opening door: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> Silence and Awe attend their feet!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> They enter ... though no voice is heard,</p> +<p class="i2"> Mercy in each face I see;</p> + <p> They speak ... and in the single word</p> +<p class="i2"> Is Life, and Love, and Liberty!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote9" name="footnote9"></a> +<b>Footnote 9</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag9">(return)</a> +<p> +The sentiment of Lucretius— +</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> <i>Suave etiam Martis certamina magna tueri</i></p> + <p> <i>Per campos instructa, tuo fine parte percli.</i></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Sweet to behold the Martial Contest spread</p> + <p> Wide o'er the Plains, without thy share of Ill.</p> +</div></div> + + +<p> +But the Philosophic Poet accounts for it by the heightened sense of +safety; and not on the principle of Malevolence. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote10" name="footnote10"></a> +<b>Footnote 10</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag10">(return)</a> +<p> +This Question may come before the Jury in Cases of +<i>Homicide, Assault and Battery</i>, and other charges of that nature, which +may be justifiable on circumstances: but in many if the fact is found, +as in <i>Forgery</i>, &c. the criminality, with some very rare exceptions, is +a legal inference necessarily resulting from the fact. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + + + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + YORKSHIRE DIP. +</h2> + + + + +<p> +[The Country Ramble of Jupiter.—The Feast: ... It's Music, and +Gaiety.—The Dip makes it's appearance.—The Consequence.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Once on a time, old Legends say,</p> + <p> 'Twas on a sultry Summer's day,</p> + <p> A Grecian God forsook the Skies,</p> + <p> To taste of Earth's felicities.</p> +<p class="i2"> Clad like a rusticated elf,</p> + <p> (Perhaps <i>incog.</i> 'twas Jove himself)</p> + <p> He travers'd hills, and glens, and woods,</p> + <p> And verdant lawns, by crystal floods;</p> + <p> For sure, said he, if Earth has joys,</p> + <p> They dwell remote from pomp and noise.</p> +<p class="i2"> He loitering pass'd the vacant hour,</p> + <p> For Strawberries stoop'd, or pluck'd a Flower,</p> + <p> And snuff'd the Zephyrs as they play'd,</p> + <p> In wanton curves beneath the shade.</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Till having every sweet pursued,</p> + <p> That leisure finds in solitude,</p> + <p> Resolving now to seek Mankind,</p> + <p> And new delights in converse find,</p> + <p> He left the woods, he cross'd the plain,</p> + <p> And join'd the Reapers' jolly train;</p> + <p> With Men and Maids he talk'd and toil'd,</p> + <p> While jocund mirth the hours beguil'd;</p> + <p> For Maids the cheerful labour shar'd,</p> + <p> And blooming health their rich reward.</p> +<p class="i2"> When noon advanc'd, Sol's downward rays</p> + <p> Shedding intolerable blaze,</p> + <p> Compel the Labourers' retreat,</p> + <p> To shelter from the fervent heat;</p> + <p> The copse that skirts the irriguous mead</p> + <p> Affords a welcome cooling shade.</p> +<p class="i2"> A Damsel from the careful Dame</p> + <p> With wholesome viands loaded came;</p> + <p> Though coarse and homely was their meal,</p> + <p> Though brown their bread, and mild their ale,</p> + <p> Gladly they view'd the plenteous store,</p> + <p> Dispos'd on Nature's verdant floor.</p> +<p class="i2"> The aerial Stranger soon made free,</p> + <p> Nor miss'd Apollo's minstrelsy;</p> + <p> For chirping Grasshoppers were heard,</p> + <p> With dulcet notes of many a Bird</p> + <p> That sought at noon the umbrageous glade</p> + <p> And softly sung beneath the shade.</p> + <p> He took his place upon the ground,</p> + <p> With Lads and Lasses circling round;</p> + <p> He sat as they sat, fed as they fed,</p> + <p> Drank ale, and laugh'd, and talk'd, as they did;</p> + <p> Each playful wile, by Love employ'd,</p> + <p> He by kind sympathy enjoy'd;</p> + <p> The Lover's extasies he caught,</p> + <p> When looks convey'd th' enamour'd thought;</p> + <p> From breast to breast while raptures bound,</p> + <p> He prais'd the varied prospects round,</p> + <p> Compar'd each Lass to Beauty's Queen,</p> + <p> And own'd it an Elysian scene,</p> +<p class="i2"> The jolly God smil'd all propitious,</p> + <p> But ah! how fatally capricious....</p> +<p class="i2"> It chanc'd, amidst this humble Feast,</p> + <p> A cup of YORKSHIRE DIP was plac'd ...</p> + <p> A pudding-sauce well-known of yore,</p> + <p> When folks were frugal, though not poor;</p> + <p> An olio mixt of <i>sweet and sour</i>.</p> + <p> Soon as this touch'd his laughing lip,</p> + <p> That unmixt Nectar us'd to sip,</p> + <p> He rose, and with a threat'ning frown</p> + <p> Of direful Anger<a id="footnotetag11" name="footnotetag11"></a><a href="#footnote11"><sup>11</sup></a>, dash'd it down,</p> + <p> And swore, departing in a huff,</p> + <p> I'll make your lives like that d——d stuff.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"> Too sure the Malediction fell,</p> + <p> As every mortal wight can tell:</p> + <p> For HUMAN LIFE, to this bless'd hour,</p> + <p> Like <i>Yorkshire Dip</i>, is SWEET AND SOUR.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote11" name="footnote11"></a> +<b>Footnote 11</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag11">(return)</a> +<p> +Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust.<a id="footnotetag12" name="footnotetag12"></a><a href="#footnote12"><sup>12</sup></a> POPE.] +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote12" name="footnote12"></a> +<b>Footnote 12</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag12">(return)</a> +<p> +The Poet has drawn his Jupiter according to the Homeric +Model, in it's least divine features. Yet I wish he had not. The +<i>Yorkshire Dip</i> (the mixture of sweet and sour) might have remained a +type of Life, temper'd in like manner: not by the wrath but by the +<i>benevolence</i> of Jupiter. +</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + <p> ... Who hath will'd</p> + <p> That Pleasure be co-mate of Toil and Pain,</p> + <p> Lest Joy should sink in listless apathy.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> <i>... Curit acuens mortalia corda,</i></p> + <p> <i>Nec torpere gravi passus fua Regna Veterno.</i></p> +</div></div> + + +<p> +GEORG. I. +</p> + +<p> +And accordingly the next Poem. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + LOVE'S TRIUMPH: +</h2> + + + +<h3> +AN ELEGIAC BALLAD. +</h3> + + +<p> +[The Expostulation.—Continued.—Fears of +Poverty.—Encouragement.—Baldwin's Song.—Deceitfulness of visions +indulgence.—Tormenting distressing Passions.—Comforts of a low +Fortune.—Poverty in England contrasted with other Countries.—The +Question.... The Conclusion.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Come, let us seek the woodland shade,</p> +<p class="i2"> And leave this view of towns and towers:</p> + <p> Sweeter far the verdant mead,</p> +<p class="i2"> And lonely dell's sequester'd bowers.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Why does my Love this walk prefer;</p> +<p class="i2"> This hill, so near the public way?</p> + <p> Why is this prospect dear to her?</p> +<p class="i2"> Where Villas proud their pomp display?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Ah! why does Mary sometimes sigh,</p> +<p class="i2"> Surveying this magnific scene;</p> + <p> The seats of Grandeur tow'ring high,</p> +<p class="i2"> With Rivers, Groves, and Lawns between?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> On splendid Cars, that smoothly move,</p> +<p class="i2"> With high-born Youths gay Damsels ride;</p> + <p> By the encircling arm of Love</p> +<p class="i2"> Press'd to the wealthy Lover's side.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Why turn to view their easy state,</p> +<p class="i2"> As the long glittering train moves by?</p> + <p> And when they reach the pompous gate,</p> +<p class="i2"> Ah! why does youthful Mary sigh?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Doth Envy that fond bosom heave?</p> +<p class="i2"> Repining at her humble lot ...</p> + <p> Alas! does Mary long to leave</p> +<p class="i2"> The lonely Dale and lowly Cot?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 7</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Pure and sincere is Mary's Love:</p> +<p class="i2"> Words were superfluous to tell;</p> + <p> A thousand tendernesses prove</p> +<p class="i2"> That Mary loves her Stephen well.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 8</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When list'ning to the Stockdove's moan,</p> +<p class="i2"> Far in the deep sequester'd grove,</p> + <p> The blush that whisper'd, 'We're alone,'</p> +<p class="i2"> Sweetly confess the power of Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 9</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Exalted Love concealment mocks,</p> +<p class="i2"> This feign'd indifference does but prove</p> + <p> That was I Lord of Fields and Flocks,</p> +<p class="i2"> My Mary's Lips would own her Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 10</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Doth Poverty create the fears</p> +<p class="i2"> That o'er your love their shadows fling? ...</p> + <p> The silence of those falling tears</p> +<p class="i2"> Confesses all the truth I sing.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 11</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> O! Mary, let not empty shew,</p> +<p class="i2"> Let not the pride of gaudy dress,</p> + <p> Thus cloud thy morn of life with woe,</p> +<p class="i2"> And blight it's future happiness.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 12</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Trust the monition Baldwin gave,</p> +<p class="i2"> Our future bliss it's truth shall prove,</p> + <p> Life's cares the Lovers who dare brave,</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall find their rich reward in Love:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 13</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Baldwin, the hoary-headed Bard,</p> +<p class="i2"> I still consult when cares annoy:</p> + <p> He own'd for me a fond regard;</p> +<p class="i2"> And calls me still his darling Boy.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 14</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> His mind is fraught with spoils of Time;</p> +<p class="i2"> He's wise and good, though known to few;</p> + <p> He gave me this advice in rhyme,</p> +<p class="i2"> And here I'll read the Song to you:—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 15</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Though envious Age affects to deem thee Boy,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lose not one day, one hour, of proffer'd bliss;</p> + <p> In youth grasp every unoffending joy,</p> +<p class="i2"> And wing'd with rapture snatch the bridal kiss.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 16</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Let not this chief of blessings be deferr'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Till you your humble fortunes can improve;</p> + <p> None's poor but he, by sordid fears deterr'd,</p> +<p class="i2"> Who dares not claim the matchless wealth of Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 17</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Virtue can make most rich thy little store;</p> +<p class="i2"> Virtue can make most bright thy lowly state:</p> + <p> Murmur not then that virtuous thou art poor,</p> +<p class="i2"> While prosperous Vice can make men rich and great.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 18</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "The bad man may, his every sense to please,</p> +<p class="i2"> Each soft indulging luxury employ:</p> + <p> The plenitude of elegance and ease</p> +<p class="i2"> He may possess; but never can enjoy.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 19</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "No ... though his goods, and flocks, and herds abound;</p> +<p class="i2"> His wide demesne to fair profusion grown;</p> + <p> Though proud his lofty mansion looks around,</p> +<p class="i2"> On hills, and fields, and forests, all his owns</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 20</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Tho' this may tempt thee, murmuring to complain,</p> +<p class="i2"> With conscience clear, and life void of offence,</p> + <p> 'Verily, then, I've cleans'd my heart in vain;</p> +<p class="i2"> In vain have wash'd my hands in Innocence.'</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 21</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Yet could'st thou closely mark the envied Man,</p> +<p class="i2"> See how desires ungovern'd mar his peace;</p> + <p> Or had'st thou power his inward mind to scan,</p> +<p class="i2"> How soon in pity would thy envy cease!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 22</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Envenom'd Passions all his thoughts unhinge!</p> +<p class="i2"> The Slave of Vice must thy companion move;</p> + <p> If still he burns with thirst of dire Revenge,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lawless Ambition, or unhallow'd Love.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 23</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "'Midst gayest scenes he wean a gloomy frown:</p> +<p class="i2"> Vain is the splendour that his dome adorns;</p> + <p> While he reclines on silky heaps of down,</p> +<p class="i2"> His tortur'd mind is weltering on thorns.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 24</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "To prove that man opprest with mental pain,</p> +<p class="i2"> The goods of Fortune have no power to please,</p> + <p> Even Suicide has oft been known to stain</p> +<p class="i2"> The downy couch of most luxurious case.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 25</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "The active life of Labour gives no room</p> +<p class="i2"> To that dull spleen the Indolent endure;</p> + <p> Generous cares dispel our mental gloom,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Industry is Melancholy's cure.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 26</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Repine not then, that low thy lot is cast;</p> +<p class="i2"> Health gives to life or high or low it's zest;</p> + <p> 'Tis Appetite that seasons our repast,</p> +<p class="i2"> And Weariness still finds the softest rest.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 27</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "For all thy blessings thankfulness to wake,</p> +<p class="i2"> Think of less cultur'd lands, less peaceful times;</p> + <p> Our coarsest fare, when sparingly we take,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis luxury, compar'd with other climes.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 28</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Think of the poor Greenlanders' dismal caves,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where thro' their long, long Night they buried lie;</p> + <p> Or the more wretched lands where hapless slaves</p> +<p class="i2"> Hopelessly toil beneath the fervid Sky.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 29</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "In Britain ... blest with peace and competence,</p> +<p class="i2"> Rich Fortune's favours could impart no more: ...</p> + <p> Heaven's blessings equal happiness dispense;</p> +<p class="i2"> Believe my words, for I am old and poor.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 30</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> "Many who drudge in Labour's roughest ways,</p> +<p class="i2"> By whom Life's simplest, lowliest walks are trod,</p> + <p> Happily live, to honor'd length of days,</p> +<p class="i2"> Blessing kind Nature, and kind Nature's God."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 31</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> What think you, is sage Baldwin right?</p> +<p class="i2"> Should Spring-tide Love endure delay?</p> + <p> And shall our bliss be seal'd ere Night?</p> +<p class="i2"> Say, lovely Mary, softly say?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 32</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Why starts my Love? ... why rise to go?</p> +<p class="i2"> Will Mary then my suit deny?</p> + <p> Sweet is the smile that answers, No!</p> +<p class="i2"> By Heaven, there's rapture in her eye!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + +<h2> + THE PROVERBS OF THREESCORE: +</h2> + + + +<h3> +AFFECTIONATELY ADDRESSED TO EIGHTEEN. +</h3> + + +<p> +[The Contrast.—Encouragement.—The Admonition.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Have you seen the delightless abode,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where Penury nurses Despair;</p> + <p> Where comfortless Life is a load,</p> +<p class="i2"> Age wishes no longer to bear.</p> + <p> Ah! who, in this lazerhouse pent,</p> +<p class="i2"> His lone wailings sends up to the skies?</p> + <p> 'Tis the Man whose young prime was mispent;</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis he who so bitterly sighs.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> His Youth, sunk in profligate waste,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest no Comforts Life's evening to cheer;</p> + <p> He must only it's bitterness taste,</p> +<p class="i2"> No Friend, no kind relative near.</p> + <p> His Children by want forc'd to roam,</p> +<p class="i2"> Are aliens wherever they are:</p> + <p> They have long left his desolate home;</p> +<p class="i2"> Have left him alone to despair.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Have you seen the delectable place,</p> +<p class="i2"> Where honor'd Age loves to abide;</p> + <p> Where Plenty, and Pleasure, and Peace,</p> +<p class="i2"> With Virtue and Wisdom reside?</p> + <p> Autumn's Fruits he has carefully stor'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> His Herds willing tributes abound:</p> + <p> And the smiles of his plenteous board,</p> +<p class="i2"> By his Children's Children are crown'd.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> And his is the Godlike delight,</p> +<p class="i2"> The power to relieve the distress'd! ...</p> + <p> Who can contemplate blessings so bright,</p> +<p class="i2"> And not wish to be equally bless'd.</p> + <p> Then let not the means be forgot:</p> +<p class="i2"> Remember, and mark this great truth;</p> + <p> 'Twas not Chance fix'd his prosp'rous Lot,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Twas the Virtues of provident Youth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> If such a bright prospect can charm,</p> +<p class="i2"> If you feel emulation arise,</p> + <p> If your juvenile bosom is warm,</p> +<p class="i2"> With the hope to be wealthy and wise;</p> + <p> O cherish the noble design,</p> +<p class="i2"> The maxims of Prudence pursue,</p> + <p> Application and Industry join,</p> +<p class="i2"> 'Tis the way fickle Fortune to woo.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Early cultivate Virtue's rich seeds;</p> +<p class="i2"> These will fruits in Life's winter display:</p> + <p> Ne'er defer till to-morrow good deeds,</p> +<p class="i2"> That as well might be finish'd to-day.</p> + <p> For Age and Experience can tell,</p> +<p class="i2"> And you'll find, when you grow an old man,</p> + <p> Though it's never too late to do well,</p> +<p class="i2"> You will wish you had sooner began.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + MORE BREAD AND CHEESE. +</h2> + + + + +<h3> + A NEW SONG, +</h3> + +<center> +<i>Written in the Beginning of the Year 1793</i>. +</center> + + +<p> +[The Balance of Population and Supply.—The Overstock'd Hive.—The +Source of War.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3> +TO THE TUNE OF "NOTTINGHAM ALE." +</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> My Brothers of this world, of ev'ry Nation,</p> + <p> Some maxims of prudence the Muse would inspire.</p> + <p> Now restlessness reigns throughout every station;</p> + <p> The low would be high, and the high would be higher;</p> +<p class="i6"> Now Freedom's the word,</p> +<p class="i6"> That unsheaths ev'ry sword,</p> + <p> But don't be deceiv'd by such pretexts as these:</p> +<p class="i6"> 'Tis not Freedom, nor Slavery,</p> +<p class="i6"> That calls for your Bravery;</p> + <p> 'Tis, only a Scramble for more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> When others some party are venting their rage on,</p> + <p> Inflam'd by the news from Versailles or the Hague,</p> + <p> Let Mum be your maxim ... beware of contagion ...</p> + <p> For Anger is catching as Fever or Plague:</p> +<p class="i6"> Now Victuals is scanty,</p> +<p class="i6"> And Eaters are plenty,</p> + <p> The former must rise, or the latter decrease;</p> +<p class="i6"> If in War they're employ'd,</p> +<p class="i6"> Till one half are destroy'd,</p> + <p> The few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Think not that Employment's the grand requisition;</p> + <p> That if men had work it would make the times good;</p> + <p> No man would want work if he lack'd not provision;</p> + <p> The cry for Employ is the cry for more Food.</p> +<p class="i6"> Now every Trade,</p> +<p class="i6"> From the Gown to the Spade,</p> + <p> Oppress'd by it's numbers feels Scarcity's squeeze;</p> +<p class="i6"> From the Prince to the Peasant,</p> +<p class="i6"> 'Tis true, tho' unpleasant,</p> + <p> There must be fewer mouths, or else more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Now our Hive is so pinch'd, both for room and for honey,</p> + <p> The industrious Bees would fain kick out the Drones:</p> + <p> But expose not your Life, for victuals nor money;</p> + <p> 'Tis better you supperless sleep with whole bones,</p> +<p class="i6"> Then shuffle, and hustle,</p> +<p class="i6"> Keep clear of the bustle,</p> + <p> Step out of the way-when they kick up a breeze:</p> +<p class="i6"> Preserve your own Life,</p> +<p class="i6"> Till the end of the strife:</p> + <p> Then the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Think not Hell is let loose with a terrible mission,</p> + <p> To punish a world for incor'gible Sin.</p> + <p> Not from angry Gods, nor from deep Politicians,</p> + <p> War nat'rally springs from the Passions of Men<a id="footnotetag13" name="footnotetag13"></a><a href="#footnote13"><sup>13</sup></a>:</p> +<p class="i6"> 'Tis for room and for food,</p> +<p class="i6"> That Men fight and shed blood<a id="footnotetag14" name="footnotetag14"></a><a href="#footnote14"><sup>14</sup></a>;</p> + <p> When sufficiently thinn'd the inducement will cease:</p> +<p class="i6"> There'll be room for us all,</p> +<p class="i6"> When our numbers are small:</p> + <p> And the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote13" name="footnote13"></a> +<b>Footnote 13</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag13">(return)</a> +<p> +So hath said the APOSTLE. <i>Ja</i>: iv. 1 But then these +warring Passions are something very like national Sins. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + +<blockquote class="footnote"> +<a id="footnote14" name="footnote14"></a> +<b>Footnote 14</b>: +<a href="#footnotetag14">(return)</a> +<p> +Bad as this would be, it would be well if they made not War +on Motives less naturally urgent than these: "<i>glandem atque ambilia +propter</i>." It is worse to make Wars of Heroical, still worse of +Ministerial, and worst of all of Commercial Speculation. C.L. +</p> +</blockquote> + + + + + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2> + LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER. +</h2> + + + + +<p> +[Vaccine Inoculation.—Distress and Terrors of the Small Pox.—Dangers +of Delay.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 1</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Rejoice, rejoice, Humanity!</p> +<p class="i2"> The fell, destructive, sore Disease,</p> + <p> The pest of ages, now can be,</p> +<p class="i2"> Repell'd with safety and with ease.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 2</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> He well deserves his Country's Meed,</p> +<p class="i2"> By whom the peerless blessing came;</p> + <p> And thousands from destruction freed,</p> +<p class="i2"> Shall raptur'd speak of JENNER'S name.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 3</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Yes, JENNER'S vigilance is crown'd;</p> +<p class="i2"> A sovereign antidote is given:</p> + <p> The Blessing flows the Nations round;</p> +<p class="i2"> Free he diffus'd the gift of Heaven.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 4</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> So well approv'd it's sure effect,</p> +<p class="i2"> To turn aside the' impending harm;</p> + <p> And shall parental Love neglect</p> +<p class="i2"> To minister the precious balm?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 5</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Oh! no; beware of dire Delay,</p> +<p class="i2"> Ye, who caress your Infants dear:</p> + <p> Defer it not from day to day,</p> +<p class="i2"> From month to month, from year to year:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 6</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Lest you, like me, too late lament,</p> +<p class="i2"> Your Life bereft of all it's joy;</p> + <p> Clasp now the Gift so kindly sent,</p> +<p class="i2"> Lest you behold your dying Boy!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 7</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Lest you see with trembling Fear,</p> +<p class="i2"> With inexpressible Distress;</p> + <p> The purple spots of Death appear,</p> +<p class="i2"> To blast your Hopes and Happiness:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 8</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Lest your keenest grief to wake,</p> +<p class="i2"> Like mine your suffering prattler say,</p> + <p> 'Go, bid my Father come and take</p> +<p class="i2"> 'These frightful Spots and Sores away.'</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 9</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Quickly from such fears be free:</p> +<p class="i2"> Oh! there is Danger in Delay!</p> + <p> Say not to-morrow it shall be: ...</p> +<p class="i2"> To-morrow! no; to-day, to-day.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"> 10</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + <p> Embrace the Blessing Heaven hath sent;</p> +<p class="i2"> So shall you ne'er such pangs endure:</p> + <p> Oh! give a Trifle to prevent,</p> +<p class="i2"> What you would give a World to cure.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + + + + + +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; THE CULPRIT, AN ELEGY; AND OTHER POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 11564-h.txt or 11564-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/6/11564">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/6/11564</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL">https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/11564.txt b/old/11564.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d190320 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11564.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2655 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, An Essay on War, in Blank Verse; Honington +Green, a Ballad; The Culprit, an Elegy; and Other Poems, on Various +Subjects, by Nathaniel Bloomfield + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: An Essay on War, in Blank Verse; Honington Green, a Ballad; The +Culprit, an Elegy; and Other Poems, on Various Subjects + +Author: Nathaniel Bloomfield + +Release Date: March 13, 2004 [eBook #11564] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; +HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; THE CULPRIT, AN ELEGY; AND OTHER POEMS, ON +VARIOUS SUBJECTS*** + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Tony Browne, David Garcia, and the +Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; + +HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; + +THE CULPRIT, AN ELEGY; + +AND + +OTHER POEMS, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS: + +BY + +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD. + +1803. + + * * * * * + +[Transcriber's Note: The page headers in the original text contained +one-line summaries of what appears on that page within each poem. Due to +the difficulty of interleaving these lines without completely disrupting +the flow of the poetry, they have been collected and placed in a single +square-bracketed paragraph at the start of each poem, and separated by +em-dashes.] + + * * * * * + + + + +PREFACE. + + * * * * * + +Whoever has read the Preface to the FARMER'S BOY will hardly fail of +recollecting the Name of NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD; the Author of the POEMS +here offer'd to The Public. + +It will be recollected that he there appears, with his Brother GEORGE +BLOOMFIELD, standing in the place of the Father, whom they had early +lost, to their younger Brother ROBERT. + +It is natural to suppose that this brotherly interference, and it's +consequences, greatly and advantageously influenc'd the dispositions, +pursuits, and habits of thought and conduct, of all three of the +Brothers.--And it is the more exemplary when it is consider'd how young +the two eldest were at that time. + +It is an encouraging instance how much may be effected for each other +by the poor and uneducated, if they have prudence, activity, and kind +affections; and how unexpectedly, and to an extent far beyond apparent +probability, success is given by Providence to virtuous and benevolent +efforts. + +Beyond question, the Brothers of this Family are all extraordinary Men: +and perhaps every one of them is more so than he would have been without +the fraternal concord which has animated them all, and multiplied the +powers of all by union and sympathy. + +Of NATHANIEL, as of ROBERT, my Account shall be taken from +communications by Letter, made at my request by Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD. + +NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was born 23d Feb.[1] 1759. + +He was the 3d Child and 2d Son of GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, of Honington: and +was deprived of his Father, by the Small-pox, when he was eight years +old. Like ROBERT, he learnt to read and write of his MOTHER: and had, +like him, his farther instructions in Writing, and was taught the +first Rules of Arithmetic, by Mr. RODWELL, of Ixworth[2]: where also +he seems to have had some instruction in Grammar. But his Mother being +then a widow, his Grandfather (Mr. ROBIN MANBY) kindly bound him +Apprentice to Mr. HAYLETT, a Tailor of Market-Harling: of which +business the Father of the BLOOMFIELDS had been. + +He was here very kindly treated: and was found to be an excellent +Apprentice. + +While here he learnt Church Music, (one of the great consolations of +energetic and pensive minds) and sung in a company which was conducted +by Mr. SYDER. But when his voice broke, he could make no figure among +them: for it was not only a Bass of extremely narrow compass, but weak +and tremulous. + +This latter defect of voice was observ'd in THOMSON: and perhaps it may +arise sometimes not from a fault in the natural quality of the voice, +but from exceeding sensibility to Poetry and Music. + +When about 16 or 17 years of age he entered with the fervor of a +vigorous and thoughtful mind into the study of Religion, on the +principles of the Church of England: and added to his study of it +what is the great end, the practice of Religion as a rule of conduct +and life. + +At a stall at Harling Fair he met with a Practical Catechism: the +Author's name, PRATT: and at the same time he made the acquisition of a +large volume of TILLOTSON'S Sermons. Probably the Folio Edition of the +Sermons of that excellent Man and Writer: so distinguish'd by his +Piety, uniform, mild, and rational; the morality of his excellent +Discourses; their simplicity and clearness; and the sweetness and +persuasiveness of manner. These, and other religious Tracts, he bought: +and "the last" (Tillotson) "he lent," says Mr. GEORGE BLOOMFIELD, "to +me. I receiv'd many excellent Letters from him on that subject: and they +had greater weight on my mind than if they had been written by an elder +hand." + +When his Apprenticeship expir'd he came to LONDON: and expected to +find his Brother GEORGE there. But GEORGE had taken a trip, "or tramp, +as it is called," into Kent. They however soon met in LONDON: "and +there never lived" (adds GEORGE) "a more pleasant acquaintance than +he prov'd." + +It was some years before he could procure work in LONDON sufficient to +support him through the dead Months. He us'd therefore, when he found +trade dull in Town, to go into the Country. + +And thus, while at Woolwich, he became acquainted with CHARLOTTE +NOBLE, whom he MARRIED 4th March, 1787; he being then in his 28th, and +she in her 17th year. Her Mother was a Widow: who kept a small General +Shop. Her Brother-in-law GEORGE, in speaking of this union, says, "There +perhaps never liv'd a Woman who possess'd a better temper: and he has, +though very poor, been exceedingly happy." For myself, I wish, in +transcribing this account, that those who think riches so essential to +happiness that they will take no step in life, nor suffer their hearts +or their understandings to have any influence with them, if the +acquisition of riches seems likely to be delayed or endanger'd, would +consider that the Family of the BLOOMFIELDS has been happy, and has +excell'd, upon very different principles. And if we would compare the +thousands in every situation of Life to whom what is called prosperity +is a snare, a burthen and a curse, with those who are happy with mere +necessaries, and those with difficulty obtain'd; ... happy by their +Affections and their Virtues; by improv'd and generous and tender +Feelings; by Hope amid difficulties, and Confidence in Heaven amid +trials and distresses, ... it might be seen and felt that there is more +of folly in the wisdom of the world, than those who place Wisdom in +the accumulation of superfluities, to the neglect of the most natural +Blessings, and often in violation of the clearest Duties, either of +Justice or of Benevolence, may be willing to acknowledge. + +He has two Children living:--ELIZABETH; born 11th Jul. 1789; GEORGE; +4th Febr. 1797. "He lost," adds his Brother, "two sweet Boys: who both +died within a few days of each other, by that dreadful disease the +SMALL-POX;" which, while this Preface was in the Press, has been fatal +to another promising Child, THOMAS; born Aug. 1799. The Father, +oppress'd with grief, reproaches himself for not having inoculated this +Child with the Small-Pox. But when it is consider'd how formidable, +after two such Losses, the SMALL-POX in any form must appear to +affectionate Parents, I think it will be evident that he is too severe +to himself in this reproach. The inoculated SMALL-POX is sometimes +fatal: had he inoculated the Child he would have reproach'd himself, +and still with more feeling than justice, for so doing. + +He had read but little Poetry when he came to LONDON: but he had not +been long there before he was struck, looking, as was his custom, at +Books on a stall, with the Title of NIGHT THOUGHTS. "He had never heard +of it before: but it's name was an irresistible charm to his melancholy, +enquiring mind. This has been ever his favourite Book. He would have +bought it had it been double the price. And as he possesses an +uncommonly retentive memory, he us'd to repeat great part of it by +rote in his walks with his Brothers. He afterwards read MILTON." + +Such a Memory, and the study of two such Authors with poetic enthusiasm, +may in part account for what exceedingly surpriz'd me in reading the +MSS. of THE ESSAY ON WAR:--a greater mastery in the mechanism, and +greater power of numbers, than I should have almost thought possible +in the first attempt in BLANK VERSE; even to a person of the best +education. + +He read too, GOLDSMITH and FIELDING. And he added to these some of our +English Poets as they fell in his way. Among these THOMSON could hardly +fail to be: but Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD remarks, "he never was so struck with +THOMSON as I should have expected." + +While single, he made it the amusement of his evenings to read +_Entick's Dictionary_, and write down every word of which he wish'd to +remember the spelling or the meaning. He has often said that since his +buying of the Sermons in his early youth, he had never bought for his +own reading any but poetical Books: and when he could get hold of any +miscellaneous Book, he read first the Poetry, and after look'd at no +other part. + +With this turn of Mind and habit of reading, that he has through Life +indulg'd in poetical effusions will be no matter of surprize. But be has +more than once said to his Brother GEORGE in Letters, that it was the +success of ROBERT that encouraged him to attempt an _Essay on War:_ a +subject on which he had occupied his thoughts a great length of time. + +"I remember," says his Brother, "nothing particular of his infancy: +except the great share of bashfulness (or, as a Philosopher perhaps +would say, pride) which he possess'd in common with the rest of the +Family.... Exceedingly mild in his temper and kind to his play-mates, +he was very apt in learning." + +For the last 15 years his own Account is that he has certainty read +but little: his Family having claim'd his utmost exertions; and his +business allowing little leisure. And what leisure he had being +generally employed in walking with his Children. Untill last Summer he +was a Journeyman Tailor: but has since been a MASTER in a small way. +If therefore he appears to possess any knowledge of a litterary nature, +it must be all from the stores of Memory. + +He at present lives at No. 19, Dagget Court, Broker Row, Moorfields, +London. He is (says Mr. G. BLOOMFIELD) about 5F. 3I. high[3]: of a dark +complexion, and dark gray eyes: he has lost the hair from the top of +his head, which gives him the appearance of Age. Though remarkable for +talking little, so as to have the name of a man of few words, he is, +on occasion, a chearful companion: and though generally pensive and +melancholy, ever kind-hearted. + +"As a Husband and Father, his character is certainly exemplary. And few +men pass through Life so smoothly. Though commonly working with a number +of shop-mates, he has such a philosophical command of temper, that he +never disputes; nor concerns himself with the disputes of others, unless +they refer to him for a decision." + +Thus far the Account by his Brother: who had observ'd in a former +Letter, that with respect to Temper, what he should otherwise have to +speak of NATHANIEL, he had in a great measure said already of ROBERT. +Such a coincidence in mild and simple manners, amiable and good +disposition, is pleasing to remark any where: and additionally so when +it relates to Men who have each original and characteristic Genius; and +when the testimony is given by a Brother so capable of judging, and who +has had such continued experience from their very early Life, of the +Disposition and Character of both. + +Having spoken thus far of the AUTHOR, from the best authority, it +remains for me to say something briefly of these his WORKS. + + * * * * * + +Early in the Spring of 1801, I saw in MSS. HONINGTON-GREEN, and the +ESSAY ON WAR[4]. I communicated them to Mr. GEDGE, Printer, of BURY; +who had been a zealous and active Friend to THE FARMER'S BOY: on reading +them, he wanted no time for deliberation, but offer'd at once to print +them for the benefit of the Author, at his own risque. I had known his +accuracy as a Printer: of which, and of neat Typography, I flatter +myself this Publication will be a proof. I had no difficulty to adopt +the proposal: and gladly offer'd, on my part, what little preparation +(very little indeed it was) might be necessary of the MSS. for the +Press; (or rather in it's progress through it); and to revise and +correct the Proofs. + +My province has been quite of a similar kind in this instance as it +was in that of Mr. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD: little corrections, in point +of Orthography; and still fewer of Grammar: sometimes of Diction; and +sometimes of Versification. For some of the best of these emendations +I have been indebted to one, in mentioning of whom I should have had +an affectionate Pride: and have more in that Modesty which forbids the +mention. They are, as I have said, few of any kind: For of emendations I +have been anxiously sparing. Little was requisite: and more than was so +would have been blameable. I rely on the original MSS. being preserv'd: +which on this, as on the former occasion, will speak for itself. + +I have said what I thought of THE FARMER'S BOY. It is a truely +agricultural Poem: it's originality and vivid representation of +immediate Nature manifest themselves in the whole Design, and in every +page. It will live with the works of HESIOD and THEOCRITUS; of VIRGIL +and THOMSON. I was nearly as much assur'd of this from the first, and so +express'd myself, as the event could assure me. I will now say with the +same freedom what I think of the ESSAY ON WAR. + +I regard it as a Poem of extraordinary vigor and originality: in +Thought, Plan, Conduct, Language, and Versification. I think it has much +indeed of the philosophic character, poetic spirit, force of coloring, +energy and pathos, which distinguish LUCRETIUS. Of the justness and +spirit of the VERSIFICATION I have already spoken. + +The PRINCIPLE of the ESSAY ON WAR appears to me, I will own, more +paradoxical than I should think, to judge from their conduct, it can +appear to the ruling part at least of Mankind in general. I indulge the +hope and expectation that WAR shall one day be universally and finally +extinguish'd. But I will confess also, that appearances would tempt us +to apprehend that day is far distant. And while we make War for Sport on +useful, generous, inoffensive Animals, it is not easy to imagine that we +shall cease to make War on one another. + +But whether the Principle of the Poem be well or ill-founded, I can +hardly imagine any abstract proposition to be more poetically, more +forcibly, or more comprehensively maintain'd. And I am either ignorant +wherein Genius consists, or it is manifest in the Idea, the Style and +Numbers, the Design and Conduct of this Poem. + +Of HONINGTON GREEN I am to speak next. And here it may be right to +obviate some prejudice against the Poem, which, in the minds of several, +may arise from the subject. I am not an Enemy to Enclosures: if the +RIGHTS and INTERESTS of the POOR, and of SMALL OWNERS, be very carefully +guarded, an ENCLOSURE may be a common Benefit. However, it is very +liable to become otherwise. But be an Enclosure good or bad, (and every +Man has a right to his opinion, and to support it by argument, on this +subject and every other) there are particular circumstances and +considerations which stand clear of the scope of the general question. +The Spot which is the subject of the Ballad is less, I believe, than +Half an Acre. It did certainly ornament the Village; independent of a +just and laudable partiality in the Author. Thus it would have seem'd to +the casual glance of a stranger. To the BLOOMFIELDS every circumstance +gave it peculiar endearment. There the Author of 'THE FARMER'S BOY,' and +of these POEMS, first drew breath. There grew the first Daisies which +their feet pressed in childhood. On this little Green their Parents +look'd with delight: and the Children caught the affection; and learn'd +to love it as soon as they lov'd any thing. By it's smallness and it's +situation it was no object: and could have been left out of Enclosure +without detriment to the General Plan, or to any individual Interest. +I wish it had: and most who love Poetry, and respect Genius, and are +anxious to preserve the little innocent Gratifications of the Poor, +will have the same wish. + +As a poetical effusion, it strikes me that it has the tone, simplicity, +and sweetness, and pleasing Melancholy of the Ballad. There is a stroke +or two of indignant severity: but the general character is such as I +have describ'd. And with filial Gratitude and Love there is blended, +in the close, that turn for Reflection which is so remarkable in this +Author.... I wish'd and recommended that some at least of the ornaments +of 'THE FARMER'S BOY' should be sketches of local scenery: knowing +how much more interesting they would have been, and how much more +appropriate to the Poem. In that recommendation I was not successful: +but I am glad, in this instance, to see a faithful and agreeable Sketch +of Honington-Green from a very young pencil[5]. It will be remember'd, +at a far remote Period, that the double Cottage at the end of the Green +was the Birth-place of the BLOOMFIELDS. It is still, (and may it yet be +long so) the habitation of their Mother: and has been repair'd lately +by ROBERT. And I much doubt whether any House or Green will see two such +Poets born of the same Parents. + +THE CULPRIT is the next in this Collection, and I had not seen it, nor +was it written, when I saw the two first. They decided my Opinion; and +had no more appeared, they would have been publish'd alone; as they +abundantly deserved. + +THE CULPRIT strikes me as an original and highly affecting Poem. The +very attempt to sketch the successive conflicting feelings of one thus +circumstanc'd is no common effort. And what compass of thought; what +energy of expression! ... I do not always admit the justness of the +arguments. But it is a Soliloquy in character: and in judging of it, +as in all pieces of representative Poetry (as Mr. DYER, in his lately +publish'd ESSAY has well term'd it) the imagin'd situation ought to be +consider'd. And it strikes me as closing with a true and aweful Pathos: +not often equall'd. + +The YORKSHIRE DIP is, I think, the result of that active but melancholy +Fancy, which can travel far into views of Life and Nature from a slight +occasion. It has a mixture of the Sportive which deepens the impression +of it's melancholy Close. I could have wish'd, as I have said in a short +Note, the Conclusion had been otherwise. The sours of Life less offend +my Taste than its sweets delight it. But when I think what NATHANIEL +must have felt in passing through Life, I more respect the Chearfulness +and habitual Vigor of his Mind, than I am dispos'd to be out of humor +with occasional gloom. + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH differs as much in manner as in subject from those which +precede it. Yet a vein of pensive and philosophic thought flows here +also. The SONG OF BALDWIN is well adapted to soothe the fears and the +discontents of Poverty: and to convince those who have not learnt it, +that wealth, and rank, and power, and unlimited indulgence, are not such +Blessings as they are imagin'd to be at a distance: nor Poverty such an +Evil, that the first and best Blessings of Nature should be therefore +thrown aside in despair. + +I may doubt on the expediency of the SONG OF BALDWIN being in a +different measure; but I can not doubt of the general merit of the Poem. + +The PROVERBS, like other compositions of this kind, must rest chiefly on +their moral Justness, Utility, Simplicity, and Conciseness, rather than +on poetic Excellence: though neither in form nor coloring are they +deficient of that compos'd and grave Beauty which the Nature of the +Subject and Composition admits. + +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE contains the Principle of the ESSAY ON WAR, and of +a celebrated ESSAY ON POPULATION, which I dare say the Author never saw. +It is strong, characteristic; and original: and although in the measure +of the humorous Ballad, has much nerve and energy[6]. + +I have now a Remark to make which relates generally to the +Versification. We may observe of HONINGTON GREEN, and most of the Poems +in rhyme in this Collection, that they are strongly accentuated: and if +red with a close attention to accent and emphasis, the rhythm is musical +and energetic; where to a careless Reader it might appear harsh and +untuneable. + +The LYRIC ELEGY which concludes this little Collection is, I think, +animated and pathetic in no common degree. On the Merits of VACCINE +INOCULATION I do not think myself qualify'd to offer an opinion. Great +Doubts have been entertain'd concerning it by medical Men of Abilities +and Experience. Objections apparently strong were urg'd; and of various +kinds. At present it has had Declarations in it's favor from among the +most distinguish'd of it's Opposers. And it seems to have little short +of a general reception in the medical World.... Time and Experience, +the great Test of Truth in such instances, must determine for or against +it. But, important as the Question is, poetical Merit is comparatively +independent on the correctness of a philosophic System or Hypothesis. +And reflecting on his former Losses and present Calamities, the Author +could not but feel a deep Interest in whatever seem'd likely to obviate +such an Evil to others. + +I have observ'd some rather striking coincidences with VIRGIL and +LUCRETIUS. I might have pointed out more; and to other classic +Authors. But I should have extended this Preface too far. At the same +time, such a concurrence in the Sentiments and Expressions of Genius in +very distant Ages, and under widely different Circumstances, is always +interesting, even where it can be resolv'd with Certainty, or +Probability, into IMITATION: and much more so, when, as in these Poems, +it is certain that it CAN NOT. + +I have very few Words more to say in presenting this little Volume to +the PUBLIC. Specimens they will find in it of such different kinds of +Composition, as the same individual rarely can attempt with success. Yet +through great diversity of Style, Dissimilarity of Measure, and Variety +of Sentiment and Subject, may be seen the same Mind: and Traces of the +same Manner, and that manner peculiarly characteristic...a mixture of +contemplative equanimity, of incidental gleams of vivacity; of energy +frequently pathetic, sometimes sarcastic, and not seldom sublime. And we +have here an additional proof, that a true poetic Spirit, in whatever +Breast it inhabits, will create Thoughts, Language, and Numbers, worthy +of the Muse, however unfavourable the occupation and habits of Life. + +Mr. NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was not without his fears, however, lest it +should be thought, that, although THE MUSE can visit a SHEPHERD'S BOY, +there may be some employments which exclude her influence. That a TAYLOR +should be a POET, he doubted, might appear too startling an Assertion. +And he had said accordingly to his Brother GEORGE, in a Letter, when +this Publication was first going to Press, "I want you to exclude the +word _Taylor_. Let there be no such Word in the Book. But perhaps I am +too late. I know there is in the public Mind as great contempt for him +who bears the appellation of _Taylor_, as STERNE has made old SHANDY +have for SIMKIN, NECKEY, or TRISTRAM. How many CAESARS and POMPEYS, says +he, by mere inspiration of the names, have been rendered worthy of them? +And how many are there who might have done exceedingly well in the +World, had not their Characters and Spirits been totally depress'd and +Nicodemiz'd; and I will add (says Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD) taylor'd into +nothing? In the REHEARSAL, the Author, to make the most ridiculous +part of it still more ridiculous, tells us, that it was written to a +Taylor, and by a Taylor's Wife. And even the discerning SPECTATOR +has given into this common-place raillery in the Monkey's Letter to her +Mistress. He has made the Soul which inhabited Pug's Body, in recounting +the humiliating State it had formerly been in, say, that he had been a +Taylor, a Shrimp, and a Tom-tit. It is from these causes, as well as +from the habits and appearance contracted by a recluse and sedentary +Life, that, in the enlighten'd, as well as the ignorant, the ideas of +Taylor and Insignificance are inseparably link'd together." + +I prevail'd, notwithstanding, that this word, whose anti-poetic +influence is so dreaded, should be in the Book. About half a Century +ago, there seem'd a degree of incredulity as to the possibility of +Courage in a Taylor. ELLIOT'S LIGHT HORSE, at that time compos'd of +Taylor-Volunteers. effectually overcame that prejudice. It remain'd +to dissolve another still more irrational prepossession, that a Taylor +cannot be a Poet. And this Volume will be a victorious Host against an +Army of such Prejudices. Indeed the Force is greater than such a Combat +requires: for stubborn as other Prejudices may still be, our litterary +Prejudices have, in this Age, been rapidly giving way to Candour, +Reason, Common-Sense, and the Evidence of Fact. We have long known that +a Scotch Plough-Boy and a Milk-Woman[7] could still be Poets of high +and almost singular Excellence. And if Improbability were any thing +against Fact, it would be far more improbable, that two Brothers should +be such Poets as ROBERT and NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD are, than that a Taylor +should be a Poet. It remains then for Prejudice to vanish like Mists +before the Sun: while the two BROTHERS sociably ascend PARNASSUS +together; higher than ever Brothers have climbed before: I might add, +each of them to an height which but few have ever reach'd[8]. + +CAPEL LOFFT. + +Troston-Hall, 2 Jan: 1803. + + +[Footnote 1: I had said, and certainly upon full authority, 23rd April; +which the Author his-self believ'd to be the Day: and had remarked +accordingly it was a Day distinguish'd by the Birth and Death +of SHAKESPERE. But Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD discover'd and immediately +communicated the mistake as to the Day. Thus we lose an interesting +coincidence: but we gain what is of greater value; a just and prompt +sacrifice to truth and candor. C.L.] + +[Footnote 2: Who is mention'd in the Preface to the Farmer's Boy. +C.L.] + +[Footnote 3: If "_True natural Greatness all consists in height_," the +Family of the _Bloomfields_, is most unfortunate. The Father Mr. _George +Bloomfield_ had 2 Inches less of this Greatness.] + +[Footnote 4: I had a hint from both the Brothers, GEORGE and ROBERT, +that NATHANIEL had a turn for Poetry, and had written what they believ'd +would much please me. C.L.] + +[Footnote 5: A name-sake and relation of the Author: of the Age, as I +understand, of about 14.] + +[Footnote 6: I am half tempted to say of it + + _A Fist may hit him who a Sermon flies._ + +Ridiculum aeri Fortius et melius magnas quandoque fecat res. C.L.] + +[Footnote 7: BURNS, and Mrs. YEARSLEY.] + +[Footnote 8: _Pauci quos aequus amavit Jupiter_, atque ardens evexit +ad aethera Virtus, Felices, potuere!] + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + +ESSAY ON WAR + +HONINGTON GREEN + +THE CULPRIT + +YORKSHIRE DIP + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH + +PROVERBS OF THREESCORE + +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE + +LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER + + * * * * * + + + + +ESSAY ON WAR + + +[War for room required by encreased Population.--With Arts of Use +and Comfort spring those of War.--Blessings of the Infant State of +Society.--Peace cannot last beyond the Infancy of Society.--War +defined to preserve the equilibrium of Population.--War between hords +of emigrating Stranger Nations.--Invasions on account of violated +Women.--Love the strongest and most natural cause of War.--Violence of +conflicting Passions at sight of an Enemy.--Solitary wounded Combatant +amid the Dying and Dead.--Female Friends seeking for Dead or Wounded +Relatives.--Morning after the Battle--Sympathy--Compassion.--Long +remembrance of the Horrors of War.--Gunpowder; it's tremendous +effects.--Gunpowder, a humane discovery.--Castles &c. proofs of the +continued prevalence of War.--Men quit a peaceful Country to seek War +abroad.--History full of War.--Slavish Peace more cruel and more horrid +than War.--Obligations of Peace to the active Virtues of War.--Havock +of Peace more shocking than that of War.--War between Man and the rest +of the animal Creation.--War of the Elements and natural +Powers.--Recapitulation.... Conclusion.] + + * * * * * + +Man's sad necessity, destructive War, +Sweeps to the grave the surplus of his sons, +Where'er the kindly clime and soil invite +To Love; and multiply the Human Race. + Around the World, in every happier spot +Where Earth spontaneous gives nutritious fruits. +Her softest verdure courting human feet, +And mossy grot's, beneath protecting shades, +The Stranger's envy, the Possessor's pride; +There, as increasing numbers throng each bower. +Frequent and fatal rivalships arise; +And ruthless War erects his hideous crest. + Soon as Appropriation's iron hand +Assays to grasp the Produce of the Earth; +And youths assert hereditary power, +Propriety exclusive, and in arms +League to defend their patrimonial rights, +Indisputable claim of Fruits and Fields +Contending, oft their massive clubs they raise +Against each other's life: often, alas, +The needy cravings of the unportion'd poor +Provoke their jealous wrath; relentlessly +Tenacious of their store, they shut him out, +'Midst desart Famine, and ferocious Beasts, +To guard his life and till the steril soil; +And thus extend the range of human feet. + Still as Experience, in her tardy school, +Instructs the Shepherd and the Husbandman +To great increase their flocks and herds to rear, +To till the ground, and plant the fruitful tree +In slow progression rising into use, +Nurtur'd by Her the infant Arts appear. +While sage Experience thus teaches Man +The useful and the pleasant Arts of Life, +She in harsh lectures, in the frequent broil, +Enjoins her Pupil still to cultivate +The fatal, necessary Art of War. + The Artizan, who from metallic ores +Forms the sharp implements to dress the glebe, +And prune the wild luxuriance of the tree; ... +By him is made the sword, the spear, the shaft, +By Man worn to defend him against Man. + Most bless'd the country where kind Nature's face +In unsophisticated Freedom smiles: +Happy the tenants of primeval days +When young society is in it's spring: +Where there is room and food for millions more, +Love knows no check, the votaries of Love, +The happy votaries of Wedded Love, +Know not the curse of peopled, polish'd, times: +The curse to wish their children may be few. + Sweet converse binds the cords of social love; +When the rude noise and gestures that ere while +Imperfectly express'd the labouring thought; +By social concourse are improv'd to Speech: +Speech, reasoning Man's distinguishing perfection; +Speech, the inestimable vehicle +Of mental light, and intellectual bliss; +Whence the fair fruits of Holy Friendship grow, +Presenting to fond Hope's enamour'd sight +The fairy prospect of perpetual Peace. +Advanc'd Society's prudential Laws, +The moral virtues of the enlighten'd mind, +And all the ties of Interest and of Love, +In vain conspire to nurse their favourite Peace, +And banish dire Immanity and War. +Strong Nature's bent, continual increase, +Still counteracts Humanity's fond wish, +The perpetuity of Peace, and Love; +Alas! progressive Increase cannot last. +Soon mourns the encumber'd land it's human load: +Too soon arrives the inauspicious hour; +The Natal Hour of the unhappy Man, +Who all his life goes mourning up and down +That there is neither bough, nor mud, nor straw +That he may take to make himself a hut; +No, not in all his native land a twig +That he may take, nor spot of green grass turf, +Where without trespass he may set his foot. +Now Want and Poverty wage War with Love; +And hard the conflict: horrible the thought, +That Love, who boasts of his all-conquering impulse, +Should have to mourn abortive energies... +But in proportion as Mankind increase, +So evils multiply: till Nature's self, +(The native passions of the human mind) +Engender War; which thins, and segregates, +And rectifies the balance of the world: +As thick-sown plants in the vegetable world, +With stretching branches wage continual War; +Each tender bud shrinks from the foreign touch +With a degree of sensitive perception; +Till one deforms, o'er-tops, and kills the other. + Like Summer swarms, that quit their native hives, +The offspring of increasing families, +Who find no room beneath their father's roofs, +No patrimony nor employ at home, +Colleagu'd in bands explore the desart wilds, +To seek adventures; or to seek their food: +If chance they meet with rovers (like themselves) +Whose home is far away in distant vales, +Behind the mountains, or beyond the lake; +Instinctively they war where'er they meet: +The friendly parley cannot intervene; +The unknown tongue does but create alarm: +With jealous fears, stern looks, and brandish'd arms, +They stand aloof: as birds of distant groves +At the strange note prepare for instant War. + At first they skirmishing dispute the right +Of hunting in the unappropriate waste: +But every onset aggravates their hate; +Till each increasing force, whetting their swords, +With purpos'd malice seeking out the foe, +Alternate by reprisal and revenge, +Doubly compensate each discomfiture, +Yet seek not to attack each-other's home, +Where Age, and Infancy, in safety dwell: +They war but with freebooters: private Peace +And Female Covert, Valour scorns to assail. +But when in evil hour some female hand, +Whether by force of Love, or force of Arms, +Is led across the desart by the Foe; +The jealous fury kindles to a flame: +No longer sacred the domestic hearth: +Fire, Death, and Devastation, mark their way, +And all the horrid crimes of savage War. + Now War becomes the business of the State: +The most humane, the most pacific men, +Must arm for War, or lose all they hold dear: +The sorrows of the Aged, Infant cries, +And Female Tears, resistlessly prevail: +Can gentlest natures be in love with Peace, +When Love, most tender Love, excites to War? +No.... When some lov'd and honour'd youth distrest'd, +Raising his head amongst his arm'd compeers, +Tells that the well-known honourable Maid, +The Virgin Mistress of his dearest hopes, +Is ravish'd from him, borne by force away; +Though pierc'd with grief, yet nobly he exclaims, +'Think not I wish to embroil you in my fate: +'For though not one of you espouse my cause, +'I singly will attempt the desperate deed. +'Farewell: I go to find my Love, or die!' + Silent and motionless the legions stand, +By looks examining each-other's heart: +But soon a murmur through the ranks proceeds, +Swelling as quickly a terrific roar; +Like heavy waters breaking from their mounds, +A long, and loud, and inarticulate shout, +While every weapon vibrates in the air, +And hisses it's fierce vengeance at the foe. + The righteous cause admits of no delay; +No tardy foot impedes the immediate march: +The Enemy, not taken by surprise, +Wak'd by the watchful fears of conscious guilt, +On their frontiers await the coming foe. + Now at the near approach of threatening Death, +Full many a thinking, sighing, aching heart, +Indulges secretly the hopeless wish +For Life, and Peace.... Alas! it cannot be: +To advance is to encounter dreadful danger; +But to recede, inevitable death; +His own associates would deal the blow: + Thus led by Fate, behold upon the plain, +The adverse bands in view, and in advance. +Now Fear, Self-pity, and affected Courage, +Speak in their hideous shouts with voice scarce human; +Like that which issues from his hollow throat +Who sleeping bellows in a frightful dream. +More near their glaring eye-balls flashing meet; +Terror and Rage distorting every face, +Inflame each-other into trembling fury. + Soft-ey'd Humanity, oh! veil thy sight! +Tis not in Rationality to view +(Even in thought) the dire ensuing scene; +For Madness, Madness reigns, and urges men +To deeds that Rationality disowns. + Now here and there about the horrid Field, +Striding across the dying and the dead, +Stalks up a man by strength superior, +Or skill and prowess in the arduous fight, +Preserv'd alive: ... fainting he looks around; +Fearing pursuit, nor caring to pursue. +The supplicating voice of bitterest moans, +Contortions of excruciating pain, +The shriek of torture and the groan of death, +Surround him; and as Night her mantle spreads, +To veil the horrors of the mourning Field, +With cautious step shaping his devious way, +He seeks a covert where to hide and rest: +At every leaf that rustles in the breeze +Starting, he grasps his sword; and every nerve +Is ready strain'd, for combat or for flight. + Thus list'ning to ward off approaching foes, +A distant whispering, fighting, murmuring sound +Salutes his ear, and to his throbbing heart +Soft tidings tells of tenderness and love. +For on that fatal day of vengeful ire. +At fearful distance following the host, +From either country came a female throng; +And now beneath the covert of the night +Advancing, guided by the voice of woe, +Where on the earth the wounded mourners lay, +With trembling steps and fearful whispering voice, +Each seeks, and calls him whom she came to seek: +And many a fugitive, whom force or fear +Had driven from the Field, steals softly back, +Anxious to know the fate of some lov'd friend. +Mutual fears appal the mingled group, +Starting alternate at the unknown tongue: +They fear a foe in each uncertain form +That through the gloom imperfectly appears. +The mournful horrors of the doleful night +Melt every heart: ... and when the morning's beam +Shews the sad scene, and gives an interview, +Resentment, that worst torment of the mind, +Resentment ceases, satiate wrath subsides. +Woman is present: and so strong the charm +Of weeping Woman's fascinating tears, +That though surviving Heroes' unwash'd hands +Still grasp the falchion of horrid hue, +And though their fallen brethren from the ground +May seem to call for Vengeance from their hands, +The impulse of Revenge is felt no more; +No more the strange attire, the foreign tongue +Creates alarm: for Nature's-self has writ +In every face; where every eye can read +Repentant Sorrow, and forgiving Love. +Their mingled tears wash the lamented dead: +On every wound they pour soft Pity's balm: +Ere Sorrow's tears are dried, they feel the spring +Of new-born joys, and each expanding heart +Contemplates future scenes of Peace and Love. + Long, even as long as room and food abound, +They interchange their friendly offices +For mutual good; reciprocally kind: +And much they wonder that they e'er were foes. +Still War's terrific name is kept alive: +Tradition, pointing to the rusty arms +That hang on high, informs each list'ning youth +How erst in fatal fields their Grandsires fell; +Childhood attentive hears the tragic tale; +And learns to shudder at the name of War. + GUNPOWDER! let the Soldier's Pean rise, +Where e'er thy name or thundering voice is heard: +Let him who, fated to the needful trade, +Deals out the adventitious shafts of Death, +Rejoice in thee; and hail with loudest shouts +The auspicious era when deep-searching Art +From out the hidden things in Nature's store +Cull'd thy tremendous powers, and tutor'd Man +To chain the unruly element of Fire +At his controul, to wait his potent touch: +To urge his missile bolts of sudden Death, +And thunder terribly his vengeful wrath. +Thy mighty engines and gigantic towers +With frowning aspect awe the trembling World. +Destruction, bursting from thy sudden blaze +Hath taught the Birds to tremble at the sound; +And Man himself, thy terror's boasted lord, +Within the blacken'd hollow of thy tube, +Affrighted sees the darksome shades of Death. +Not only mourning groves, but human tears, +The weeping Widow's tears, the Orphan's cries, +Sadly deplore that e'er thy powers were known. +Yet let thy Advent be the Soldier's song, +No longer doom'd to grapple with the Foe +With Teeth and Nails--When close in view, and in +Each-other's grasp, to grin, and hack, and stab; +Then tug his horrid weapon from one breast +To hide it in another:--with clear hands +He now expertly poizing thy bright tube, +At distance kills, unknowing and unknown; +Sees not the wound he gives, nor hears the shriek +Of him whose breast he pierces.... GUNPOWDER! +(O! let Humanity rejoice) how much +The Soldier's fearful work is humaniz'd, +Since thy momentous birth--stupendous power. + In Britain, where the hills and fertile plains, +Like her historic page, are overspread +With vestiges of War, the Shepherd Boy +Climbs the green hillock to survey his flock; +Then sweetly sleeps upon his favourite hill, +Not conscious that his bed's a Warrior's Tomb. + The ancient Mansions, deeply moated round, +Where, in the iron Age of Chivalry, +Redoubted Barons wag'd their little Wars; +The strong Entrenchments and enormous Mounds, +Rais'd to oppose the fierce, perfidious Danes; +And still more ancient traces that remain +Of Dykes and Camps, from the far distant date +When minstrel Druids wak'd the soul of War, +And rous'd to arms old Albion's hardy sons, +To stem the tide of Roman Tyranny: ... +War's footsteps, thus imprinted on the ground, +Shew that in Britain he, from age to age, +Has rear'd his horrid head, and raging reign'd. + Long on the margins of the silver Tweed +Opposing Ensigns wav'd; War's clarion +Dreadfully echo'd down the winding stream, +Where now sweet Peace and Unity reside: +The happy peasant of Tweed's smiling dale, +Whene'er his spade disturbs a Soldier's bones, +With shudd'ring horror ruminates on War; +Then deeper hides the awful spectacle, +Blessing the peaceful days in which he lives + Since Peace has bless'd the villages on Tweed, +And War has ceas'd to drive his iron car +On Britain's shore, what myriads of men +Over the Eastern and the Western Seas +Have follow'd War, and found untimely graves. +Where'er the jarring interests of States +Excite the brave to' advance their native land +By deeds of arms, Britons are foremost found. +The sprightly bands, hast'ning from place to place, +Gayly carousing in their gay attire, +Invite, not force the train of heedless youths, +Who croud to share their jollity and joy: +To martial music dancing into death, +They fell their Freedom for a holiday; +And with the Rich and Great 'tis Glory charms, +And Beauty's favour that rewards the Brave. + All the historic Records of the World +Are little more than histories of Wars; +Shewing how many thousands War destroy'd, +The time, the place, and some few great ones' names. +The mournful remnants of demolished States, +The Greek, the Roman, and long-exil'd Jew; +Are living monuments of wasting War's +Annihilating power: and while they mourn +Their Grandeur faded, and their Power extinct, +To every State _memento mori_ sounds. +From age to age the habitable World +Has been a constant theatre of War: +In every land with Nature's gifts most blest, +Frequent and fatal Wars destructive rage. +So bland is fair Britannia's genial clime, +So liberal her all-protecting Laws, +So generous the spirit of her Sons, +So fond, so chaste, her Daughters virtuous love, +That human offspring still redundant grows, +And free-born Britons must contend for life. + O! envy not the lands where Slaves reside, +Though their proud Tyrants boast of _peaceful_ reign, +Where hard Oppression, freezing genial love, +Performs the work of War in embryo: +Let not mistaken fondness doat on Peace, +Preserv'd by arts more horrid far than War! ... +Let the dull languor of the pale Chinese +Desert their Infants, and their _Peace_ enjoy! +But, O! let Britons still in Love and War +Exert the generous ardour of the soul; +Protect the Fair, and foster Infancy. + By strenuous enterprize, and arduous toils, +Is public safety purchas'd and secur'd. +Negative merit, "I have done no harm," +Is an inglorious boast: shall he who sits +Secure, enjoying Plenty in the lap +Of Ease, vaunt his recumbent Virtues? ... He +Brand with harsh epithets the Warrior's toils? +While 'tis to them he owes sincerest thanks +For Peace and Safety, that are earn'd in War.... +As well might he who eats the flesh of Lambs, +And smacks the ichor in a savoury dish, +Boast his humanity, and say "My hand +Ne'er slew a Lamb;" and censure as a crime, +The Butcher's cruel, necessary trade. + In Battle, the chance-medley game of Death, +Where every one still hopes 'till he expires, +Less horror shocks the mind contemplative, +Than where, in slow procession's solemn pace, +Doom'd wretches meet their destin'd fate in bonds, +Who know the moment to expect the blow, +And count the moments 'till that moment comes: +Or where Oppression wages War, in Peace, +On the defenceless: on the hapless man +Who holds his breath but by another's will: +Whose Life is only one long cruel Death! ... +Hardly he fares, and hopelessly he toils; +And when his driver's anger, or caprice, +Or wanton cruelty, inflicts a blow, +Not daring to look angry at the whip, +Oh! see him meekly clasp his hands and bow +To every stroke: no lurid deathful scene +In Battle's rage, so racks the feeling heart; +Not all the thunders of infuriate War, +Disploding mines, and crafting, bursting bombs, +Are half so horrid as the sounding lash +That echoes through the Carribean groves. + Incessant is the War of Human Wit, +Oppos'd to bestial strength; and variously +Successful: in these happy fertile climes, +Man still maintains his surreptitious power; +Reigns o'er the Brutes, and, with the voice of Fate, +Says "This to-day, and that to-morrow dies." +Though here our Shambles blazon the Renown, +The Victory, and Rule, of lordly Man; +Far wider tracts within the Torrid Zone +Own no such Lord: where Sol's intenser rays +Create in bestial hearts more fervid fires, +And deadlier poisons arm the Serpent's tooth; +In gloomy shades, impassable to Man, +Where matted foliage exclude the Sun, +The torpid Birds that crawl from bough to bough +Utter their notes of terror: while beneath +Fury and Venom, couch'd in murky dens, +Hissing and yelling, guard the hideous gloom. +O'er dreary wastes, untrod by human feet, +Without controul the lordly Lion reigns; +And every creature trembles at his voice: +When risen from his den, he prances forth, +Extends his talons, shakes his flaky mane, +Then whurrs his tufted tail, and stooping low +His wide mouth near the ground, his dreadful roar +Makes all the desart tremble: he proclaims +His ire--proclaims his strong necessity; +And that surprise or artifice he scorns. + Unskill'd, alas! in philosophic lore, +Unbless'd with scientific erudition; +How can I sing of elemental War, +Or the contending powers of opposite +Attractions, that impel, and poize, and guide, +The ever-rolling Spheres: Animal War, +The flux of Life, devouring and devour'd, +Ceaseless in every tribe, through Earth, and Air, +And Ocean, transcends my utmost ken. + + From obvious truths my Song has aim'd to shew +That War is an inevitable Ill; +An Ill through Nature's various Realms diffus'd; +An Ill subservient to the General Good. + With sympathetic sense of human woes +Deeply impress'd, the melancholy Muse +With modesty asserts this mournful Truth: +'Tis not in human wisdom to avert, +Though every feeling heart must sure lament, +The SAD NECESSITY of FATAL WAR. + + * * * * * + + + + +ELEGY + +ON THE ENCLOSURE OF HONINGTON GREEN. + + +[Motives of Enclosure.--Natural Pleasures and humble Convenience lost by +it.--Recollections of the Spot.... The Mother.--The Father.--Character +of his Mind.--The Widow.... Maternal Cares.--The Green.... It's Beauties +and Pleasures.--The Enclosure in general less an object to the +Poor.--Under whatever Change the Man will adapt itself.--The new Scene +will find it's Admirers.--Pleasures are as the Mind and it's Habits.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Improvement extends it's domain; + The Shepherds of Britain deplore + That the Coulter has furrow'd each plain, + And their calling is needful no more. + "Enclosing Land doubles its use; + When cultur'd, the heath and the moor + Will the Riches of Ceres produce, + Yet feed as large flocks as before." + + 2 + + Such a lucrative maxim as this + The Lords of the Land all pursue, + For who such advantage wou'd miss? + Self-int'rest we all keep in view. + By it, they still more wealth amass, + Who possess'd great abundance before; + It gives pow'r to the Great, but alas! + Still poorer it renders the Poor. + + 3 + + Taste spreads, her refinements around, + Enriching her favourite Land + With prospects of beautified ground, + Where, cinctur'd, the spruce Villas stand; + On the causeways, that never are foul, + Marshal'd bands may with measur'd pace tread; + The soft Car of Voluptuousness roll, + And the proud Steed of Greatness parade. + + 4 + + Those fenc'd ways that so even are made, + The pedestrian traveler bemoans; + He no more the green carpet may tread, + But plod on, 'midst the gravel and stones: + And if he would rest with his load, + No green hillock presents him a seat, + But long, hard, tiresome sameness of road + Fatigues both the eye and the feet. + + 5 + + Sighs speak the poor Labourers' pain, + While the new mounds and fences they rear, + Intersecting their dear native plain, + To divide to each rich Man his share; + It cannot but grieve them to see, + Where so freely they rambled before, + What a bare narrow track is left free + To the foot of the unportion'd Poor. + + 6 + + The proud City's gay wealthy train. + Who nought but refinements adore, + May wonder to hear me complain + That Honington Green is no more; + But if to the Church you e'er went, + If you knew what the village has been, + You will sympathize, while I lament + The Enclosure of Honington Green. + + 7 + + That no more upon Honington Green + Dwells the Matron whom most I revere, + If by pert observation unseen, + I e'en now could indulge a fond tear. + E'er her bright Morn of Life was o'ercast, + When my senses first woke to the scene, + Some short happy hours she had past + On the margin of Honington Green. + + 8 + + Her Parents with Plenty were blest, + And nume'rous her Children, and young, + Youth's Blossoms her cheek yet possest, + And Melody woke when she sung: + A Widow so youthful to leave, + (Early clos'd the blest days he had seen) + My Father was laid in his grave, + In the Church-yard on Honington Green. + + 9 + + I faintly remember the Man, + Who died when I was but a Child; + But far as my young mind could scan, + His manners were gentle and mild: + He won infant ears with his lore, + Nor let young ideas run wild, + Tho' his hand the severe rod of pow'r + Never sway'd o'er a trembling Child. + + 10 + + Not anxiously careful for pelf, + Melancholic and thoughtful, his mind + Look'd inward and dwelt on itself, + Still pensive, pathetic, and kind; + Yet oft in despondency drown'd, + He from friends, and from converse would fly. + In weeping a luxury found, + And reliev'd others' woes with a sigh. + + 11 + + In solitude long would he stay, + And long lock'd in silence his tongue; + Then he humm'd an elegiac lay, + Or a Psalm penitential he sung: + But if with his Friends he regal'd, + His Mirth, as his Griefs, knew no bounds; + In no Tale of Mark Sargent he sail'd, + Nor in all Robin Hood's Derry-downs. + + 12 + + Thro' the poor Widow's long lonely years, + Her Father supported us all: + Yet sure she was loaded with cares, + Being left with six Children so small. + Meagre Want never lifted her latch; + Her cottage was still tight and clean; + And the casement beneath it's low thatch + Commanded a view o'er the Green. + + 13 + + O'er the Green, where so often she blest + The return of a Husband or Son, + Coming happily home to their rest, + At night, when their labour, was done: + Where so oft in her earlier years, + She, with transport maternal, has seen + (While plying her housewifely cares) + Her Children all safe on the Green. + + 14 + + The Green was our pride through the year, + For in Spring, when the wild flow'rets blew, + Tho' many rich pastures were near, + Where Cowslips and Daffodils grew; + And tho' such gallant flow'rs were our choice, + It was bliss interrupted by Fear-- + The Fear of their Owner's dread voice, + Harshly bawling "You've no business here." + + 15 + + While the Green, tho' but Daisies it's boast, + Was free as the Flow'rs to the Bee; + In all seasons the Green we lov'd most, + Because on the Green we were free; + 'Twas the prospect that first met my eyes, + And Memory still blesses the scene; + For early my heart learnt to prize + The Freedom of Honington Green. + + 16 + + No Peasant had pin'd at his lot, + Tho' new fences the lone Heath enclose: + For, alas! the blest days are forgot, + When poor Men had their Sheep and their Cows. + Still had Labour been blest with Content, + Still Competence happy had been, + Nor Indigence utter'd a plaint, + Had Avarice spar'd but the Green. + + 17 + + Not Avarice itself could be mov'd + By desire of a morsel so small: + It could not be lucre he lov'd; + But to rob the poor folk of their all. + He in wantonness ope'd his wide jaws, + As a Shark may disport with the Fry; + Or a Lion, when licking his paws, + May wantonly snap at a Fly. + + 18 + + Could there live such an envious Man, + Who endur'd not the halcyon scene? + When the infantine Peasantry ran, + And roll'd on the daisy-deck'd Green: + Ah! sure 'twas fell Envy's despite, + Lest Indigence tasted of Bliss, + That sternly decreed they've no right + To innocent pleasure like this. + + 19 + + Tho' the Youth of to-day must deplore-- + The rough mounds that now sadden the scene, + The vain stretch of Misanthropy's Power, + The Enclosure of Honington Green. + Yet when not a green turf is left free, + When not one odd nook is left wild, + Will the Children of Honington be + Less blest than when I was a Child? + + 20 + + No! ... Childhood shall find the scene fair, + Then here let me cease my complaint; + Still shall Health be inhal'd with the Air, + Which at Honington cannot be taint: + And tho' Age may still talk of the Green, + Of the Heath, and free Commons of yore, + Youth shall joy in the new-fangled scene, + And boast of _that_ change we deplore. + + 21 + + Dear to me was the wild-thorny Hill, + And dear the brown Heath's sober scene; + And Youth shall find Happiness still, + Tho' he roves not on Common or Green: + Tho' the pressure of Wealth's lordly hand + Shall give Emulation no scope, + And tho' all the' appropriate Land + Shall leave Indigence nothing to hope. + + 22 + + So happily flexile Man's make. + So pliantly docile his mind, + Surrounding impressions we take, + And bliss in each circumstance find. + The Youths of a more polish'd Age + Shall not wish these rude Commons to see; + To the Bird that's inur'd to the Cage, + It would not be Bills to be free. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE CULPRIT. + + + "_Man hard of heart to Man! ... of horrid things_ + _Most horrid; midst stupendous highly strange:_ + _Yet oft his courtesies are smoother wrongs;_ + _Pride brandishes the favours he confers,_ + _And contumelious his Humanity._ + _What then his vengeance? hear it not, ye Stars,_ + _And thou, pale Moon, turn paler at the sound_: ... + _Man is to Man the sorest, surest Ill._" + +YOUNG. + + * * * * * + +[His Reflections on the Propensity to gaze on Misery.--Military +Punishments.--Eager Curiosity of Spectators.--Theatric Amusements.--He +examines the Motives where the Distress is real.--His Dread from the +Disposition of Mankind.--The Jury withdrawn.... His Reflections.--Full +of apprehension.... effect of Pride in maintaing an opinion.--His fears +from the diminished regard of an Oath.--This idea pursued.--Instance +of false Shame.... of contempt of Shame.--Perjury.--Duty of +Deliberation.... Misbodings.--Hopes from mild and conscientious +feelings.--Conflict of Hope, Doubt, and Fear.--The Verdict.] + + * * * * * + + 'Man hard of heart! of horrid things + Most horrid! and of strange most strange:'... + Thus the mournful Poet sings, + Experienc'd in Life's various range. + + In the hopeful morn of Youth, + This serious Song I lov'd and learn'd, + Nor ever thought the mournful truth + Would ever thus by me be mourn'd. + + Ne'er thought I ever thus should stand, + The butt of every tearful eye; + To raise the Culprit's trembling hand, + To heave the Culprit's anxious sigh. + + Now the mournful truth to prove, + Gazing crouds around I see, + For sure 'tis cruel selfish love + That brings them here to gaze on me. + + 'Tis thus wherever human woe, + Wherever deep distress appears; + Thither curious gazers go, + To' insult the wretched with their tears. + + E'en where hostile armies join + In the horrid frightful fray, + Where groaning mortals life resign, + I've heard their fellow-mortal say-- + + 'Oh! for a safe and lofty stand, + Where I the Battle's rage might see; + When Carnage, with relentless hand, + Strews the Ground, or stains the Sea.'[9] + + When list'ning, with suspended breath, + A wretch his dreadful sentence hears, + In Martial Court, where worse than Death + The Military Culprit fears. + + And when encircled by the band, + Lingering torments, public shame, + Severity's most ruthless hand + Lacerates his manly frame: + + When many a hardy Soldier weeps, + And grieves that he's compell'd to stay; + Who perforce his station keeps, + Or would soon be far away; + + Yet see beyond the circling guard, + Idle gazers flocking round, + To see and hear are pressing hard, + As if the spot were fairy ground. + + What is it that a charm imparts? + Why do they press to hear and see? + Can it be that human hearts + Delight in human misery? + + When the inexorable hour + Chills the hopeless convict's blood; + When sunk and drown'd his eve'ry power, + In sorrow's overwhelming flood: + + To view the scene the many run, + And o'er the hapless wretch to sigh: + Nor once enquire the crime he' has done; ... + They only come to see him die. + + Various cares mankind employ; + But to gaze on human woe + Seems the universal joy, + For which they all their cares forego. + + Each from his pursuit departs, + Suffering, dying Man to see; + Surely there are human hearts + That joy in human misery. + + Where fictitious tragic woe + Entertains the gaudy ring, + Each the horror can forego, + And instant mental comfort bring. + + When the spirits take alarm, + Prompt to anger, grief, or spleen, + Reason can dissolve the charm, + And say, 'tis a fictitious scene. + + But to scenes of real woe, + Where a wretch is truely dying, + Wherefore do such numbers go, + What can be the joy of sighing? + + Men of thought, who soar serene, + And loftily philosophize, + Will say they seek the solemn scene, + To contemplate and sympathize. + + And all the throng will tell you so: ... + 'Tis sympathy that brings them there; + They love to weep for others' woe, + And come but to enjoy a tear. + + If to _enjoy_ the tear that starts, + They run the sorrow'd scene to see-- + Alas! for pity ... human hearts + Delight in human misery. + + Still my wretched thought thus strays, + 'Midst gloomy scenes and prospects drear; + My weary mind, in various ways + Seeking Hope, still finds Despair. + + This thought a weight of woe imparts, + At once to sink a wretch like me; + What can I hope, if human hearts + Delight in human misery? + + Tortur'd by severe suspense, + I the Jurors' Verdict wait, + Ere I may depart from hence, + Their decision seals my fate. + + Now withdrawn, their close debate + Admits no curious, list'ening ear, + But the result's so big with fate, + The Culprit must in thought be there. + + And now, led on by sad despair, + Does a frightful form obtrude; + Vindictive Spleen assumes the air + Of noble, manly Fortitude. + + And thus I hear the Demon say, + 'Let us not abuse our trust; + 'We must not be led away + 'For mercy's sake, to be unjust.' + + Yet he'll profess no wrath to feel + 'Gainst such a hapless wretch as I; + No! ... but for the public weal, + 'Tis expedient that I die. + + And this his judgment once made known, + Self-love and self-conceit's so strong, + He'll rather let me die than own + That his opinion could be wrong. + + Ye who the lore of distant climes + Canvass, latent truth to find; + Who hail our philosophic times, + And Man's emancipated mind: + + Oh! ye who boast the enlighten'd age, + Who boast your right of thinking free ... + If e'er ye learn the lessons sage, + Taught in affliction's school like me, + + Should you e'er a Culprit stand, + You'll wish mankind all Christians then; + If e'er you raise the Culprit's hand, + You'll wish the Jurors Christian Men. + + When at the dread Confessional, + Men trembled from their early youth, + Taught to fear, on pain of Hell, + To utter more or less than Truth. + + Then Faith could sharpest trials stand, + Man at threat'ning Death could smile, + If but his Pastor's lenient hand + Toucht him with the Holy Oil. + + Full faith the solemn Oath obtain'd, + Man's mind was aw'd by priestly rule; + Steady to Truth he still remain'd, + Unless to priestly fraud a tool. + + But where Church Discipline has ceas'd + To train men's minds in early youth, + Hard indeed the Culprit's case, + Whose fate depends on others' truth. + + Even the man whose ways are wise, + Whose life is rul'd by Honour's laws; + Who owns, in philosophic guise, + A Deity ... a first great cause: ... + + Yet boasts his mind no shackles wears: ... + 'Tis hard his solemn Oath to trust; + For, without future hopes and fears, + Know I if Conscience makes him just? ... + + And then, the' admitted evidence ... + Ye Jurors, can his word be true? + Tempted, in his own defence, + To feign another's crime to you. + + When venial crimes in Love's gay spring, + Prompt the youthful Female's sigh; + When her roses all take wing, + And Matrons sage her plight descry; + + Blushing, weeping, she'll confess + The fault her faded cheeks discover: + But, to make her crime the less, + Imputes an outrage to her Lover. + + So strong the power of pride and shame, + Her frailty she will still deny; + Rather than own herself to blame, + She lets the hapless Lover die. + + Is Merit from his right debarr'd; + Or guiltless charg'd with foul offence? + A Knave but speaks the perjur'd word, + And laughs at injur'd Innocence. + + Laughs he at detection too? + Yes ... for he'll be but expos'd; + But set up to public view, + Should his falshood be disclos'd. + + He such exposure dares defy, + Public shame is not his fear; + He who can vouch the solemn lie, + Would shew his forehead any where. + + While Innocence meets punishment, + While Falshood can produce such woes, + Mercy's self must needs lament + Perjury not more punish'd goes. + + Dubious may be the Culprit's case, + Though clear and open all his ways; + What Life is proof 'gainst dire disgrace, + If guileful hate his act pourtrays? + + Ye Jurors cautiously proceed, + When the question's left to you, + Not 'Has the Culprit done the deed?' + But 'Was the deed a crime to do?'[10] + + Grudge not deliberation's time, + Lest you should be too severe; + When Justice must believe a crime, + She lends it her most tardy ear. + + How short is this momentous hour! + O! how swift the minutes fly! + Soon the Jurors, arm'd with power, + Will come to bid me live or die. + + Pointed thoughts of Life and Death, + Anxious sore solicitude, + Shake my frame, suspend my breath, + When Terror's gloomy shades protrude. + + But when Hope cheers me with the sound + Of Mercy's voice, of Mercy's plea, + And tells me Mercy will be found + Amongst the twelve to speak for me, + + Rapt Fancy hears the Cherub plead: ... + Propitious is the Culprit's fate, + If one, by tender mercy sway'd, + Amongst the Jurors takes his seat. + + One who will meek-ey'd Mercy's laws + Oppose to Rigour's doubtful rule ... + Nor quit the hapless Culprit's cause, + Though sterner Judgements deem him fool. + + Blessings that wait his heart, his tongue, + Cannot elate his tranquil breast: + He courts no blessing from the throng; + He is, and ever will be, blest. + + He shall win the Jury's ear, + Pity glist'ning in his eye; + Let us not be too severe.... + If we let the Culprit die, + + Fruitlessly we may bewail + In future, should our hearts relent: + O! then let Mercy's voice prevail; + Mercy we can ne'er repent. + + Mercy smiles, and every face + Reflects the Cherub's aspect meek; + Glowing with her resistless grace, + Mercy beams on every cheek. + + Hope, thy presage cannot fail. + Bid my Mary cease to mourn; + Surely Mercy shall prevail, + And I to Love and Life return. + + Shall I the lenient Verdict hear, + Thrilling through my shivering frame? + Ye Jurors, clad in smiles appear, + To realize this happy dream. + + Their Deliberation's o'er, + How shall I the Crisis meet? + Hark! I hear the opening door: ... + Silence and Awe attend their feet! + + They enter ... though no voice is heard, + Mercy in each face I see; + They speak ... and in the single word + Is Life, and Love, and Liberty! + + * * * * * + +[Footnote 9: The sentiment of Lucretius-- + + _Suave etiam Martis certamina magna tueri_ + _Per campos instructa, tuo fine parte percli._ + + Sweet to behold the Martial Contest spread + Wide o'er the Plains, without thy share of Ill. + +But the Philosophic Poet accounts for it by the heightened sense of +safety; and not on the principle of Malevolence.] + +[Footnote 10: This Question may come before the Jury in Cases of +_Homicide, Assault and Battery_, and other charges of that nature, which +may be justifiable on circumstances: but in many if the fact is found, +as in _Forgery_, &c. the criminality, with some very rare exceptions, is +a legal inference necessarily resulting from the fact. C.L.] + + * * * * * + + + + +YORKSHIRE DIP. + + +[The Country Ramble of Jupiter.--The Feast: ... It's Music, and +Gaiety.--The Dip makes it's appearance.--The Consequence.] + + * * * * * + + Once on a time, old Legends say, + 'Twas on a sultry Summer's day, + A Grecian God forsook the Skies, + To taste of Earth's felicities. + Clad like a rusticated elf, + (Perhaps _incog._ 'twas Jove himself) + He travers'd hills, and glens, and woods, + And verdant lawns, by crystal floods; + For sure, said he, if Earth has joys, + They dwell remote from pomp and noise. + He loitering pass'd the vacant hour, + For Strawberries stoop'd, or pluck'd a Flower, + And snuff'd the Zephyrs as they play'd, + In wanton curves beneath the shade. + 'Till having every sweet pursued, + That leisure finds in solitude, + Resolving now to seek Mankind, + And new delights in converse find, + He left the woods, he cross'd the plain, + And join'd the Reapers' jolly train; + With Men and Maids he talk'd and toil'd, + While jocund mirth the hours beguil'd; + For Maids the cheerful labour shar'd, + And blooming health their rich reward. + When noon advanc'd, Sol's downward rays + Shedding intolerable blaze, + Compel the Labourers' retreat, + To shelter from the fervent heat; + The copse that skirts the irriguous mead + Affords a welcome cooling shade. + A Damsel from the careful Dame + With wholesome viands loaded came; + Though coarse and homely was their meal, + Though brown their bread, and mild their ale, + Gladly they view'd the plenteous store, + Dispos'd on Nature's verdant floor. + The aerial Stranger soon made free, + Nor miss'd Apollo's minstrelsy; + For chirping Grasshoppers were heard, + With dulcet notes of many a Bird + That sought at noon the umbrageous glade + And softly sung beneath the shade. + He took his place upon the ground, + With Lads and Lasses circling round; + He sat as they sat, fed as they fed, + Drank ale, and laugh'd, and talk'd, as they did; + Each playful wile, by Love employ'd, + He by kind sympathy enjoy'd; + The Lover's extasies he caught, + When looks convey'd th' enamour'd thought; + From breast to breast while raptures bound, + He prais'd the varied prospects round, + Compar'd each Lass to Beauty's Queen, + And own'd it an Elysian scene, + The jolly God smil'd all propitious, + But ah! how fatally capricious.... + It chanc'd, amidst this humble Feast, + A cup of YORKSHIRE DIP was plac'd ... + A pudding-sauce well-known of yore, + When folks were frugal, though not poor; + An olio mixt of _sweet and sour_. + Soon as this touch'd his laughing lip, + That unmixt Nectar us'd to sip, + He rose, and with a threat'ning frown + Of direful Anger[11], dash'd it down, + And swore, departing in a huff, + I'll make your lives like that d----d stuff. + + Too sure the Malediction fell, + As every mortal wight can tell: + For HUMAN LIFE, to this bless'd hour, + Like _Yorkshire Dip_, is SWEET AND SOUR. + + * * * * * + +[Footnote 11: Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust.[12] POPE.] + +[Footnote 12: The Poet has drawn his Jupiter according to the Homeric +Model, in it's least divine features. Yet I wish he had not. The +_Yorkshire Dip_ (the mixture of sweet and sour) might have remained a +type of Life, temper'd in like manner: not by the wrath but by the +_benevolence_ of Jupiter. + + ... Who hath will'd + That Pleasure be co-mate of Toil and Pain, + Lest Joy should sink in listless apathy. + + _... Curit acuens mortalia corda,_ + _Nec torpere gravi passus fua Regna Veterno._ + +GEORG. I. + +And accordingly the next Poem. C.L.] + + * * * * * + + + + +LOVE'S TRIUMPH: + +AN ELEGIAC BALLAD. + + +[The Expostulation.--Continued.--Fears of +Poverty.--Encouragement.--Baldwin's Song.--Deceitfulness of visions +indulgence.--Tormenting distressing Passions.--Comforts of a low +Fortune.--Poverty in England contrasted with other Countries.--The +Question.... The Conclusion.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Come, let us seek the woodland shade, + And leave this view of towns and towers: + Sweeter far the verdant mead, + And lonely dell's sequester'd bowers. + + 2 + + Why does my Love this walk prefer; + This hill, so near the public way? + Why is this prospect dear to her? + Where Villas proud their pomp display? + + 3 + + Ah! why does Mary sometimes sigh, + Surveying this magnific scene; + The seats of Grandeur tow'ring high, + With Rivers, Groves, and Lawns between? + + 4 + + On splendid Cars, that smoothly move, + With high-born Youths gay Damsels ride; + By the encircling arm of Love + Press'd to the wealthy Lover's side. + + 5 + + Why turn to view their easy state, + As the long glittering train moves by? + And when they reach the pompous gate, + Ah! why does youthful Mary sigh? + + 6 + + Doth Envy that fond bosom heave? + Repining at her humble lot ... + Alas! does Mary long to leave + The lonely Dale and lowly Cot? + + 7 + + Pure and sincere is Mary's Love: + Words were superfluous to tell; + A thousand tendernesses prove + That Mary loves her Stephen well. + + 8 + + When list'ning to the Stockdove's moan, + Far in the deep sequester'd grove, + The blush that whisper'd, "We're alone," + Sweetly confess the power of Love. + + 9 + + Exalted Love concealment mocks, + This feign'd indifference does but prove + That was I Lord of Fields and Flocks, + My Mary's Lips would own her Love. + + 10 + + Doth Poverty create the fears + That o'er your love their shadows fling? ... + The silence of those falling tears + Confesses all the truth I sing. + + 11 + + O! Mary, let not empty shew, + Let not the pride of gaudy dress, + Thus cloud thy morn of life with woe, + And blight it's future happiness. + + 12 + + Trust the monition Baldwin gave, + Our future bliss it's truth shall prove, + Life's cares the Lovers who dare brave, + Shall find their rich reward in Love: + + 13 + + Baldwin, the hoary-headed Bard, + I still consult when cares annoy: + He own'd for me a fond regard; + And calls me still his darling Boy. + + 14 + + His mind is fraught with spoils of Time; + He's wise and good, though known to few; + He gave me this advice in rhyme, + And here I'll read the Song to you:-- + + 15 + + "Though envious Age affects to deem thee Boy, + Lose not one day, one hour, of proffer'd bliss; + In youth grasp every unoffending joy, + And wing'd with rapture snatch the bridal kiss. + + 16 + + "Let not this chief of blessings be deferr'd, + Till you your humble fortunes can improve; + None's poor but he, by sordid fears deterr'd, + Who dares not claim the matchless wealth of Love. + + 17 + + "Virtue can make most rich thy little store; + Virtue can make most bright thy lowly state: + Murmur not then that virtuous thou art poor, + While prosperous Vice can make men rich and great. + + 18 + + "The bad man may, his every sense to please, + Each soft indulging luxury employ: + The plenitude of elegance and ease + He may possess; but never can enjoy. + + 19 + + "No ... though his goods, and flocks, and herds abound; + His wide demesne to fair profusion grown; + Though proud his lofty mansion looks around, + On hills, and fields, and forests, all his owns + + 20 + + "Tho' this may tempt thee, murmuring to complain, + With conscience clear, and life void of offence, + 'Verily, then, I've cleans'd my heart in vain; + In vain have wash'd my hands in Innocence.' + + 21 + + "Yet could'st thou closely mark the envied Man, + See how desires ungovern'd mar his peace; + Or had'st thou power his inward mind to scan, + How soon in pity would thy envy cease! + + 22 + + "Envenom'd Passions all his thoughts unhinge! + The Slave of Vice must thy companion move; + If still he burns with thirst of dire Revenge, + Lawless Ambition, or unhallow'd Love. + + 23 + + "'Midst gayest scenes he wean a gloomy frown: + Vain is the splendour that his dome adorns; + While he reclines on silky heaps of down, + His tortur'd mind is weltering on thorns. + + 24 + + "To prove that man opprest with mental pain, + The goods of Fortune have no power to please, + Even Suicide has oft been known to stain + The downy couch of most luxurious case. + + 25 + + "The active life of Labour gives no room + To that dull spleen the Indolent endure; + Generous cares dispel our mental gloom, + And Industry is Melancholy's cure. + + 26 + + "Repine not then, that low thy lot is cast; + Health gives to life or high or low it's zest; + 'Tis Appetite that seasons our repast, + And Weariness still finds the softest rest. + + 27 + + "For all thy blessings thankfulness to wake, + Think of less cultur'd lands, less peaceful times; + Our coarsest fare, when sparingly we take, + 'Tis luxury, compar'd with other climes. + + 28 + + "Think of the poor Greenlanders' dismal caves, + Where thro' their long, long Night they buried lie; + Or the more wretched lands where hapless slaves + Hopelessly toil beneath the fervid Sky. + + 29 + + "In Britain ... blest with peace and competence, + Rich Fortune's favours could impart no more: ... + Heaven's blessings equal happiness dispense; + Believe my words, for I am old and poor. + + 30 + + "Many who drudge in Labour's roughest ways, + By whom Life's simplest, lowliest walks are trod, + Happily live, to honor'd length of days, + Blessing kind Nature, and kind Nature's God." + + 31 + + What think you, is sage Baldwin right? + Should Spring-tide Love endure delay? + And shall our bliss be seal'd ere Night? + Say, lovely Mary, softly say? + + 32 + + Why starts my Love? ... why rise to go? + Will Mary then my suit deny? + Sweet is the smile that answers, No! + By Heaven, there's rapture in her eye! + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PROVERBS OF THREESCORE: + +AFFECTIONATELY ADDRESSED TO EIGHTEEN. + + +[The Contrast.--Encouragement.--The Admonition.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Have you seen the delightless abode, + Where Penury nurses Despair; + Where comfortless Life is a load, + Age wishes no longer to bear. + Ah! who, in this lazerhouse pent, + His lone wailings sends up to the skies? + 'Tis the Man whose young prime was mispent; + 'Tis he who so bitterly sighs. + + 2 + + His Youth, sunk in profligate waste, + Lest no Comforts Life's evening to cheer; + He must only it's bitterness taste, + No Friend, no kind relative near. + His Children by want forc'd to roam, + Are aliens wherever they are: + They have long left his desolate home; + Have left him alone to despair. + + 3 + + Have you seen the delectable place, + Where honor'd Age loves to abide; + Where Plenty, and Pleasure, and Peace, + With Virtue and Wisdom reside? + Autumn's Fruits he has carefully stor'd; + His Herds willing tributes abound: + And the smiles of his plenteous board, + By his Children's Children are crown'd. + + 4 + + And his is the Godlike delight, + The power to relieve the distress'd! ... + Who can contemplate blessings so bright, + And not wish to be equally bless'd. + Then let not the means be forgot: + Remember, and mark this great truth; + 'Twas not Chance fix'd his prosp'rous Lot, + 'Twas the Virtues of provident Youth. + + 5 + + If such a bright prospect can charm, + If you feel emulation arise, + If your juvenile bosom is warm, + With the hope to be wealthy and wise; + O cherish the noble design, + The maxims of Prudence pursue, + Application and Industry join, + 'Tis the way fickle Fortune to woo. + + 6 + + Early cultivate Virtue's rich seeds; + These will fruits in Life's winter display: + Ne'er defer till to-morrow good deeds, + That as well might be finish'd to-day. + For Age and Experience can tell, + And you'll find, when you grow an old man, + Though it's never too late to do well, + You will wish you had sooner began. + + * * * * * + + + + +MORE BREAD AND CHEESE. + + +A NEW SONG, + +_Written in the Beginning of the Year 1793_. + + +[The Balance of Population and Supply.--The Overstock'd Hive.--The +Source of War.] + + * * * * * + +TO THE TUNE OF "NOTTINGHAM ALE." + + 1 + + My Brothers of this world, of ev'ry Nation, + Some maxims of prudence the Muse would inspire. + Now restlessness reigns throughout every station; + The low would be high, and the high would be higher; + Now Freedom's the word, + That unsheaths ev'ry sword, + But don't be deceiv'd by such pretexts as these: + 'Tis not Freedom, nor Slavery, + That calls for your Bravery; + 'Tis, only a Scramble for more Bread and Cheese. + + 2 + + When others some party are venting their rage on, + Inflam'd by the news from Versailles or the Hague, + Let Mum be your maxim ... beware of contagion ... + For Anger is catching as Fever or Plague: + Now Victuals is scanty, + And Eaters are plenty, + The former must rise, or the latter decrease; + If in War they're employ'd, + Till one half are destroy'd, + The few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese. + + 3 + + Think not that Employment's the grand requisition; + That if men had work it would make the times good; + No man would want work if he lack'd not provision; + The cry for Employ is the cry for more Food. + Now every Trade, + From the Gown to the Spade, + Oppress'd by it's numbers feels Scarcity's squeeze; + From the Prince to the Peasant, + 'Tis true, tho' unpleasant, + There must be fewer mouths, or else more Bread and Cheese. + + 4 + + Now our Hive is so pinch'd, both for room and for honey, + The industrious Bees would fain kick out the Drones: + But expose not your Life, for victuals nor money; + 'Tis better you supperless sleep with whole bones, + Then shuffle, and hustle, + Keep clear of the bustle, + Step out of the way-when they kick up a breeze: + Preserve your own Life, + Till the end of the strife: + Then the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese. + + 5 + + Think not Hell is let loose with a terrible mission, + To punish a world for incor'gible Sin. + Not from angry Gods, nor from deep Politicians, + War nat'rally springs from the Passions of Men[13]: + 'Tis for room and for food, + That Men fight and shed blood[14]; + When sufficiently thinn'd the inducement will cease: + There'll be room for us all, + When our numbers are small: + And the few that are left will have more Bread and Cheese. + + +[Footnote 13: So hath said the APOSTLE. _Ja_: iv. 1 But then these +warring Passions are something very like national Sins. C.L.] + +[Footnote 14: Bad as this would be, it would be well if they made not War +on Motives less naturally urgent than these: "_glandem atque ambilia +propter_." It is worse to make Wars of Heroical, still worse of +Ministerial, and worst of all of Commercial Speculation. C.L.] + + * * * * * + + + + +LYRIC ADDRESS TO DR. JENNER. + + +[Vaccine Inoculation.--Distress and Terrors of the Small Pox.--Dangers +of Delay.] + + * * * * * + + 1 + + Rejoice, rejoice, Humanity! + The fell, destructive, sore Disease, + The pest of ages, now can be, + Repell'd with safety and with ease. + + 2 + + He well deserves his Country's Meed, + By whom the peerless blessing came; + And thousands from destruction freed, + Shall raptur'd speak of JENNER'S name. + + 3 + + Yes, JENNER'S vigilance is crown'd; + A sovereign antidote is given: + The Blessing flows the Nations round; + Free he diffus'd the gift of Heaven. + + 4 + + So well approv'd it's sure effect, + To turn aside the' impending harm; + And shall parental Love neglect + To minister the precious balm? + + 5 + + Oh! no; beware of dire Delay, + Ye, who caress your Infants dear: + Defer it not from day to day, + From month to month, from year to year: + + 6 + + Lest you, like me, too late lament, + Your Life bereft of all it's joy; + Clasp now the Gift so kindly sent, + Lest you behold your dying Boy! + + 7 + + Lest you see with trembling Fear, + With inexpressible Distress; + The purple spots of Death appear, + To blast your Hopes and Happiness: + + 8 + + Lest your keenest grief to wake, + Like mine your suffering prattler say, + 'Go, bid my Father come and take + 'These frightful Spots and Sores away.' + + 9 + + Quickly from such fears be free: + Oh! there is Danger in Delay! + Say not to-morrow it shall be: ... + To-morrow! no; to-day, to-day. + + 10 + + Embrace the Blessing Heaven hath sent; + So shall you ne'er such pangs endure: + Oh! give a Trifle to prevent, + What you would give a World to cure. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ESSAY ON WAR, IN BLANK VERSE; +HONINGTON GREEN, A BALLAD; THE CULPRIT, AN ELEGY; AND OTHER POEMS, ON +VARIOUS SUBJECTS*** + + +******* This file should be named 11564.txt or 11564.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/6/11564 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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