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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/35287-0.txt b/35287-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad4823d --- /dev/null +++ b/35287-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6981 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and other +Poems, by John Castillo + +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: Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and other Poems + With a glossary of the Yorkshire Dialect + +Author: John Castillo + +Release Date: February 14, 2011 [EBook #35287] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +Dialect has been retained. Printer's errors and corrections are +described at the end of the text. Underscores have been used to +mark _italic text_. + +Note that there is an index to the poems at the end of the text. + + + + +AWD ISAAC, + +THE STEEPLE CHASE, + +AND OTHER + +POEMS; + +WITH A GLOSSARY OF THE + +YORKSHIRE DIALECT: + +BY JOHN CASTILLO. + +WHITBY: +PUBLISHED BY HORNE & RICHARDSON. + +1843. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The Author of the following Poems prefixes a “Preface” to them, lest he +should seem to be wanting in respect to his readers, did he not comply +with a custom which is universal. In doing so, however, he would eschew +two kinds of Preface, viz: that in which the author arrogates to himself +the merit of having produced a work entirely _new_, both in subject, and +in manner of expression, and on that score claims the plaudits of his +friends and the public;—and that in which the author professes to feel +himself inadequate to the task of composing a book, but at the pressing +solicitation of his friends, with great distrust of his abilities for +such a work, he yields to their entreaties, and pleads his inability in +mitigation of the critic’s wrath. With respect to the former, the writer +of the present volume professes not to offer to his readers any thing +_new_, either as to matter, or to language; and as to the latter, the +following pieces were most of them composed several years ago, at +distant intervals of time, and were frequently perused by his friends +long before he had thoughts of publishing them:—the character of his +poetry is therefore pretty well known to those who are likely to become +purchasers of his book; and it would be but a bungling apology did he +attempt to shelter its defects under the plea of inability for his task. + +It will be unnecessary to say much of the subjects sung of in the +following poems. Though they are various, the author hopes they will all +be found to contain a moral, which, if acted upon in common life, would +direct the conduct to a beneficial end. Many of them are founded on +facts which occurred in the writer’s neighbourhood, and which he has +endeavoured to turn to a useful purpose. Others are of an experimental +cast, and are the breathings of the poet’s heart when inflamed by Love +Divine! It has been his constant aim to exhibit the workings of grace in +the heart, its effects on the life, and the glorious futurity to which +it conducts its possessor. For this purpose, he has seized on a variety +of incidents known to many of his friends, which have furnished him with +matter on which to graft a spiritual thought. Life in its spring tide, +or when ebbing in death, home with its simple yet hallowed joys, a +religious assembly rapt in devotion and love, a landscape endeared by +the associations of youth or of kindred, a dilapidated church, a +withering flower, a text of scripture—have supplied him with topics;—and +he trusts that the doctrines which he has inculcated in connection with +them will always be found to agree with the Word of God. + +Of the “Dialect” in which some of the pieces are composed, the author +deems it necessary to say a few words. It is well known that every +county in England has its peculiarities of expression and pronunciation. +These peculiarities, though often unintelligible to persons brought up +at a distance, are yet the native language of the common inhabitants; +and there is, in their estimation, a point and power in them, which are +not to be found in more polished periods. The author has availed himself +of the dialect of his native county to convey to a particular class of +persons some important truths, which may, perhaps, be more welcomely +received because clad in that garb. There may, indeed, appear to +delicate ears, a rudeness approaching to barbarism, in the dialect which +he has employed; but what is wanting in polish, will, in the estimation +of those for whom he writes, be more than compensated by force and +vigour. Truth is truth—however humble the habiliments in which it is +dressed: nor does it come with less power to the heart because conveyed +in language with which those for whom it was intended are familiar. +Indeed, there is in that very _familiarity_ something which arrests the +attention and affects the heart. Of the correctness of this view, the +author has many times seen proof, in the interest with which some of the +pieces in the dialect have been listened to, by persons whose education +being limited they could not perhaps have appreciated the beauties of +polished verse, but were at once arrested and delighted when the artless +tale was narrated in their mother tongue. To make this part of the work +as complete as possible, great care has been used to render the +orthography correct: published specimens of the Dialect have been +consulted, as well as living authorities, and no pains have been spared +that could contribute to make it complete both to the eye and to the +ear. A difference of orthography may occasionally appear, caused by the +necessity of making a rhyme;—excepting a few rare instances of this +kind, a standard has been adopted which has not been departed from. For +the assistance of those who are unacquainted with the dialect of the +North Riding of Yorkshire, a copious glossary is appended to the work, +by reference to which the meaning of any unknown term or phrase will at +once be seen. + +The author prays that the blessing of God may accompany his work! + + + + +AWD ISAAC. + +(PART FIRST.) + + + Yah neeght as Ah went heeame fra’ wark, + A lahtle bit afoore ’twur dark, + Quite blithe an’ cheerful as a lark, + Ah thowght me-sel; + Ah sat me doon, te rist a bit, + At top o’t’ hill. + + Fooaks just wur turnin oot ther ky;— + A lahtle plain awd man com by;— + “Cum set ye doon, gud frind,” sez I, + “An’ rist yer legs;” + He’d beean a bit o’ floor te buy, + An’ twea’r three eggs. + + Ah fand him varry fain te stop;— + His staff he set up as a prop;— + His hooary heead he lifted up, + An’ thus compleean’d:— + (Sum fragments ov a gud like feeace, + Ther still remeean’d.) + + “Yoo see,” sez he, “mah deear young frind, + Mah travel’s ommost at an end; + Wi’ age mah back begins te bend, + An’ white’s mah hair; + Ov this warld’s griefs, yoo may depend, + Ah’v hed mah share.” + + His teeal tho’ simple, it wur grand, + An’ varry gud te understand,— + His stick steead up aboon his hand, + T’awd fashion’d way; + His cooat an’ hat wur wether tann’d, + A duffil gray. + + “Ah think,” sez Ah, “’at Scriptur sez, + Gray hairs is honorable dress, + If they be fund i’reeghteousness, + By faith obtain’d; + An’ think, by what yer leeaks express, + That praaze yoo’ve gain’d. + + Wi’ age it izzen’t gud te jooak, + An’ts ommost ower warm te woak, + Sit doon, an’ hev a bit o’ tawk, + O’ things ’at’s past; + Awd men like yoo, hez seeaf beeath heeard + An’ seen a vast.” + + “A vast Ah hev beeath heeard an’ seen, + An’ felt misfotten’s arrows keen, + As yoo remark, whahl Ah hev beean + On this life’s stage; + It’s sike a varry changin scene, + Fra’ yooth te age. + + Hoo great, an’ yet hoo feeble’s man, + His life at langest’s bud a span;” + His history be thus began, + Wi’ teears te tell; + An’ if yer ears be owght like maane, + ’Twill pleease ye weel. + + “Lang sin’ Ah lost mah wife,” sez he, + “Which wur a heavy cross te me; + An’ then mah sun teeak off tot’ sea, + A fine young man, + An’ Ah neea mare his feeace mun see, + It’s ten te yan. + + Ah happen’d te be off yah day, + A kind ov sweetheart, as they say, + Com in an’ teeak mah lass away, + Wi’ hoosin stuff; + An’ noo, poor thing, she’s deead, they say, + A lang way off. + + It’s noo neen yeear, an’ gaain i’ten, + Sin’ Ah at t’bark wood joined sum men, + ’Twur theer Ah fell an’ leeam’d me-sen, + I’ spite o’ care; + Ah wur foorc’d te gie up theer an’ then, + An’ woark ne mare. + + Bud t’neeaburs hez beean varry gud, + Or else lang sin’ Ah’d stuck i’t’ mud, + An’ seea throo them an’ t’help o’ God, + Ah gits mah breead; + An’ whooap they’ll be rewarded for’t, + When Ah’s law leead. + + Bud seein all mah cumforts gooan, + Ah didden’t knaw what way te ton, + Then Ah began te sigh an’ mooan, + Beeath neeght an’ day; + Ah bowght a Baable, an’ began + Te reead an’ pray. + + An’ as Ah reead, an’ as Ah preea’d, + Ah thowght it thunner’d ower mah heead, + An’ offens Ah’ wur sadly flay’d + Wi’ dismal noises, + Sumtaames i’ bed Ah thowght Ah heeard + Some ungkerd voices. + + A preeacher chanc’d te cum this way, + Ah’v cause te ivver bless the day, + Kind Providence leead me that way + This man te heear; + Ah, like a sheep, had geean astray + For monny a yeear. + + He sed ’twur t’luv o’ Christ cumpell’d him, + Bud seean as ivver Ah beeheld him, + Ah thowght ’at sum kind frind hed tell’d him + All mah heart; + For ivv’ry word, like arrows pointed, + Meead it smart. + + Ah thowght, till then, ’at Ah wur reeght, + Bud he set mah sins all i’mah seeght, + At last Ah fell doon at his feet + Wi’ solid grief; + Ah thowght Ah sud ha’ deead afoore + Ah fund relief. + + Ah reeally thowght, if yoo’ll beleeave me, + ’At hell wur oppen te receeave me, + Sum sed the Lord wad seean releeave me, + He wur mah keeper; + Bud all they sed did nowght but greeave me, + An’ cut me deeper. + + Ah dreeaded th’ Almighty’s froon, + An’ wander’d greeatin up an’ doon, + Nowther i’t’ coontry nor i’t’ toon + Neea rist Ah fand; + Mah sins, like stars, did me surroon’, + Or heeaps o’ sand. + + Then varry seean t’repoort wur rais’d, + An’ all roond t’village it wur blaz’d, + Awd Isaac, he wur gangin craz’d + An’ nowght seea seer; + Mah cottage then for days an’ days + Neea sowl com near. + + At thowghts ov ivverlastin pains, + An’ bein bund iv endless chains, + Mah bleead, like ice, ran thruff mah veins + Wi’ shivrin dreead; + Ah cudden’t sleep, an’ Ah forgat + Te eat mah breead. + + At last this gud man com ageean, + For which mah heart wur glad an’ fain, + Just like a thorsty land for rain, + Ah sat quite neear him; + Whahl ivv’ry organ ov mah sowl, + Wur bent te heear him. + + Bud seean as Ah his sarmon heeard, + A still small voice mah sperits cheear’d, + An’ Ah, that varry neeght wur meeade, + A happy man; + Te praaze the Lord wi’ all mah heart, + Ah then began. + + Ah knew He hed mah sins forgeean, + Whahl Ah hed in His prisance beean, + An’ that His bleead cud wesh me cleean, + An’ white as snaw, + An’ mack me fit wi’ Him te reen + Whahl heer belaw. + + Sin’ then, i’ all mah conflicts heer, + Ah flees te Him wi’ faith an’ preear, + An’ He, in marsey, lends an eear. + Thruff his deear Son; + An’ this is t’way, wi’ whooap an’ feear, + Ah travels on. + + Oft, when Ah thus draws neear te Him, + He macks mah een wi’ teears te swim, + Then fills mah heart quite up te t’ brim + Wi’ t’luv o’ God; + An’ when Ah gets mare faith i’ Him, + Ah hods mah hod. + + Sumtaames Ah’v hed yon beck te swim, + An’ monny a time this hill te clim, + Wi’ heavy heart an’ weeary lim’ + An’ sweeaty broo; + Bud all ’at ah can trist Him in, + He helps me throo. + + In all the straits ov life, sez he, + Hooivver bare mah cubburt be, + Wi’ broon breead crust, an’ woormwood tea, + Or even gall, + Whereivver Ah finnds Christ te be, + He sweet’ns all. + + Mah neeaburs all, Ah deearly luv ’em, + An’ oft Ah’s foorc’d for t’repruv ’em + Te seek the Lord Ah tries te muv ’em, + Wi’ heart sincere, + Bud t’answers oft ’at Ah gets frev em, + ’S quite severe. + + Ah’v oft felt sorry te me-sel, + Beeath greeav’d an’ sham’d the truth te tell, + When Ah hev heeard oor awd kirk bell + Ring in te preear; + Ah’s flay’d ’at sum ’ll hear’t i’ hell + Upbreead ’em theer. + + They’ll sit or lig upon ther deead, + An’ tawk aboot all kinds o’ treead, + An’ laff, an’ lee, quite undismay’d, + Till they’ve rung in; + Sike fooaks te t’ warld thay’re owther wed, + Or neear akin. + + Sum sez ther priest’s a stumlin block, + He nivver leeads ’em on te t’ rock, + Like thooase ’at mends a threead-bare frock + Wi’ a new piece, + He cares bud lahtle for his flock, + If he gets t’fleece. + + Bud oors, he is a Christian breeght, + He preeaches Christ wiv all his meeght, + Fills each beleeaver wiv deleeght, + ’At gangs te heear him; + An’ therefoore ov his people’s bleead + The truth ’ll clear him. + + Ah’v heeard him tell ’em pat an’ plain, + ’At they mun all be boorn again, + Or suffer ivverlastin pain, + I’ t’warld te cum; + Bud if they’ll flee te Christ i’ time, + For all ther’s rum. + + I’th’ pulpit or i’ conversation, + He’s awlus on for t’sowl’s salvation, + Wi’ kind reproof or exhoortation. + Or coonsel sweet; + An’ thooase ’at follows his persuasion, + They’ll be reeght. + + Ther’s sum ’at sez, bud they’re misteean, + When they’re babtized they’re boorne ageean; + Just heer they miss t’ fundation steean, + An’ beelds o’t’ sand; + An’ they’ve neea dreead, till t’hoose is doon + Bud it ’ll stand. + + Ah’s flay’d,” sez he, “ift’ truth wur knawn, + Ther’s monny a precious soul o’erthrawn, + For that gud seed ’at he hez sawn + Wi’oot effect; + Bud bleeam for ivver is ther awn, + Thruff sad neglect. + + Ah’v seen yoong men, an’ women too, + An’ men wi’ hair all off ther broo, + Afoore he’s reead his lesson throo, + ’S beean fast asleep; + Whahl others ’at far better knew + 'S beean seen te weep. + + They’ll rock an’ riggle like a ship, + Till sum kind frind gies them a nip, + Or wakken’d up wi’ t’saxton’s whip, + Or others’ coughing; + Then, mebby, when they’ve rubb’d their een, + They’ll start a laffin. + + Sum’s liv’d te three or fower skoor, + An’ lang time heer’s had rulin pow’r, + They’ve woorn deep tracks across ’at moor, + Wi’ constant gangin; + Bud still, all t’whahl, for this warld’s loore, + Ther heearts wur langin. + + Thersels they’ve nivver fairly seen, + They’ve nivver knawn ther sins forgeean, + Tho’ monny a time ther prayers hev beean + As lood as t’clark; + And thof they’ve hed twea pair of een, + They’ve deed i’t’ dark. + + Ther’s sum ’at neeame o’ Christian beears, + An’s hed that neeame for monny yeears, + ’At’s berreed ow’r t’heead an’ t’eears, + I’ warldly care; + An’ oft at kirk, we’ve cause te feear, + They market theer. + + Ah wur at a sarten hoose yah day, + An’ t’awd man tiv his son did say, + If all be weel, thoo mun away, + Te moorn te t’ kirk, + An’ try te git oor wreeghts next week, + Te cum te woark. + + An’ Tommy, he’s i’ sike a tackin, + ’At cooat ’ll spoil for want o’ mackin, + If t’ tailor’s theer, thoo mun be at him, + Te cum an’ all; + That’s weel contrav’d, an’ then yah thrang, + ’Ll deea for all. + + Thoo needn’t stop te gang roond t’ farm, + Bud mun be theer i’ reeght gud taame, + Or mebby, if thoo dizzen’t maand, + Thoo’ll loss thy chance; + Ther’s sumtaames three or fower at him, + All at yance. + + It’s ower far te gang a-feeat, + An’ if ’t be warm thoo’s seer te sweeat, + Thee Moother, she’ll deea nowght bud freeat, + Seea tak awd Dragon; + An’ tell him he mun cum next week. + An’ mend oor waggon. + + Then if ye chance i’t’ coorse o’t’ weeak, + O’t’ Sunday’s subject for te speeak, + You’ll finnd awd memory seea weeak, + It’s all forgitten; + Thus wounded sowls ’at’s beean hawf heeal’d + T’awd sarpent’s bitten. + + That skull ’at’s moolded green an’ gray, + T’awd saxton dug up t’other day, + Knaws varry neear as mitch as thay + O’t’ Sunday’s sarmon; + Yoo may as weel o’t’ subject tawk + Te sum awd Jarman. + + That poor awd man’s noo deead an’ geean, + Tis hard te say what way he’s teean, + ’At used te stand ageean t’funt steean, + Te tack fooaks watches; + Whahl careless lads i’t’ singin pew + Wur cuttin natches. + + An’ seea for want o’ cultivation, + They shuffle on withoot salvation, + A vast, Ah’s flay’d, ’s o’ this perswasion, + Beeath yoong an’ awd; + Te be forgeean they ha’ neea nooation, + Till deead an’ cawd. + + Bud they’ll finnd oot afoore’t be lang, + ’At they’ve all t’ taame beean sadly wrang, + Ther wills may then be ower strang, + Te breeak or bend; + An’ noo they say they’re ower thrang, + They can’t attend. + + I’ summer taame they’ll leeave t’awd nest, + An’ driss up i’ ther varry best, + An’ gallop off alang wi’ t’rest, + Te t’ fair or reeaces; + A vast gits what they nivver kest + At sike like pleeaces. + + Ther’s sum gets theer wi’ wooden legs on, + An’ monny poor awd men wi’ wigs on, + Just sarvs t’yoong fooaks te run ther rigs on, + A fine example, + Whahl doon i’t’ dust ther poor awd lims + Sumtaames they trample. + + Ther’s sum can nowther sit nor lig, + Aboot t’election they’re seea big, + They say they’re Britons, rump an’ rig, + Bud whea can trist ’em, + When, frev a Toory tiv a Whig, + A glass ’ll twist ’em? + + Ther’s others rayther shoat o’ seeght, + Fort’ seeak o’ twea’r three sovrens breeght, + Gies in ther vooat, an’ thinks it reeght, + Te t’ Roman stranger; + Then others pleeaster up i’t’ street, + “_The Church in danger!_” + + An’ seea they yan prevent another, + Wi’ drinking, politics, an’ bother, + Thof t’ best ov all can’t seeave his bruther, + Nor ransom him; + That spark ’at’s left they try te smuther, + Wi’ stratigem. + + As for thooase Methodeys, they say, + They mack seea varry mitch te deea, + Ther’s sum wad deea nowght else bud pray + An’ reead, an’ preeach, + Till they git all meead Methodeys, + Within ther reeach. + + Bud ther wur neean o’ this amaze, + I’ neean ov oor foore elder’s days, + Thof ther gud deeds an’ honest prayers, + An’ pious reeadins, + Hez beean, neea doot, as gud as theers, + Wiv all ther meetins. + + Te see ’em doon o’ beeath ther knees, + I’ kirk, or field, or under trees, + Wi’ brokken hearts an’ teearful ees, + Wur quite uncommon; + An’ if they hevn’t deed i’ t’ faith, + Then what’s cum’d on ’em. + + Te preeach ’em all geean doon te hell, + It is a dreeadful teeal te tell, + An’ we mun wiv oor kindred dwell, + Seea we, like them, + Will on life’s ooacean tak oor chance, + An’ sink or swim. + + They mack sike wark amang yoong fooaks, + They breeak up all oor jovial spooarts, + They thin oor ranks, an’ storm oor pooarts + Wi’ strange confusion; + Ther’s nowght bud we mun cry’t all doon, + A mere delusion. + + Bud us ’at seldum hev attended, + They deeant git us seea eeasy mended, + An awd stiff yack ’s nut eeasy bended, + That’s varry true; + Bud thooase ’at winnut bend yoo see, + Mun breeak i’ noo. + + They trifle on fra’ yeear te yeear, + Like watches woorn oot ov repair, + Thof if they wad, its varry cleear, + They mud be mended; + Bud they perceeave neea danger neear, + Till life is ended. + + Awd Satan seea pollutes the maund, + They winnut stooap te t’ means desaun’d. + Till t’ hair spring gits wi’t mainspring twain’d, + An seea hard curl’d, + They’re foorc’d away te git refined + I’ t’other warld. + + He leeads sum on like mountebanks, + As straight as thof they ran on planks, + An’ tells ’em, i’ ther jovial pranks, + He’ll nut deceeave ’em;— + Then oft on Jordan’s stormy banks, + Ther cumforts leeave ’em. + + He leeads sum on another way, + An’ whispers tiv ’em neeght an’ day, + ’At they need nowther reead nor pray, + They’ve deean nowght wrang; + An’ if they hev, he’ll set it reeght, + Afoore ’t be lang, + + Ther’s others oft beean in alarm, + Bud Felix like, when t’heart wur warm, + Hez sed, “Go, an’ sum other taame, + Ah’ll send for thee;” + When they that taame, they didden’t knaw + Mud ivver see. + + They rob thersels o’ ther awn reeght, + They reeally winnut cum te t’ leeght, + Lest o’ ther sins they git a seeght, + An’ sud be seeav’d; + An’ be ov all ther plissures sweet, + At yance bereeav’d. + + Till deep sunk doon i’ t’ burning leeake + They then begin te feear an’ queeake, + Where vengeance can neea pity teeake, + Which theer hez sent ’em, + An’ furious feeinds i’ horrid sheeape, + Mun theer torment ’em. + + They leeak for sum yan te deliver, + Bud theer they’ll finnd neea cumfort nivver, + Theer they may weeap an’ wail for ivver, + Ther harvest’s past; + Ther summer’s ended, refuge fails ’em, + An’ they’re lost. + + Ther dreeadful doom an’ destiny, + Let us git all we can te flee, + By preeachin Christ where’er we be, + I’ deead an’ word, + Till all oor frinds ther folly see, + An’ ton te God. + + “Ah beean i’ t’ way noo seeaven yeear,” + An’ as he spak, a briny teear + Ran doon his cheeks as crystal cleear, + Fra’ owther ee; + “Thenk God, Ah feeal whahl Ah sit heer, + ’Tis weel wi’ me. + + Bud neeght is cummin on ameean, + An’t leeaks as if ’twur boon te reean, + Or else mah stoory’s nut hawf deean, + ’At Ah’v te tell; + Bud mebby we may meeat ageean, + Till then, farewell!” + + Tho’ he hed all thooase sorrows booarn, + Compozur in each feeature shooan, + Thof he’d te woark and live alooan, + Fra’ day te day; + Ah wish’d his keease hed been mah awn, + An’ com away. + + + + +AWD ISAAC. + +(PART SECOND.) + +TO WHICH IS ADDED, + +HIS DYING ADVICE. + + + Oft hev Ah lang’d yon hill te clim, + Te hev a bit mare prooase wi’ him, + Wheas coonsel like a pleeasin dreeam, + Is deear te me; + Sin’ roond the warld sike men as he + Seea few ther be. + + Corrupted bukes he did detest, + For his wur ov the varry best; + This meead him wiser than the rest + O’ t’ neeaburs roond, + Tho’ poor i’ t’ purse, wi’ senses blest, + An’ judgment soond. + + Befoore the silvery neeght ov age, + The precepts ov the sacred page, + His meditation did engage, + That race te run; + Like thooase, who ’spite o’ Satan’s rage, + The praaze hed won. + + Bud noo his een’s geean dim i’ deeath, + Neea mare a pilgrim here on eearth, + His sowl flits fra’ her shell beneeath, + Te reealms o’ day, + Whoor carpin care, an’ pain, an’ deeath, + Are deean away. + + Wi’oot the author’s neeame or leeave, + They’d put his stoory thruff the sieve, + An’ roond his circuit set the screeve + O’ justice keen, + Fra’ crotchet cramp, or semibreeve, + Te sift him cleean. + + The charge ’at they ageenst him bring,— + He harps teea mitch upon yah string, + Or triumphs like a lahtle king, + Ow’r fashions gay; + He’s ower religious!—That’s the thing + They meean te say. + + Yet still Awd Isaac tells his teeal, + Ower monny a weeary hill an’ deeal, + An’ ’ll sumtaames into cities steeal, + Nor silent be; + Till infants try te lisp his theeame + Across the sea. + + Oor last, an’ lasting interview, + His wonted theeame he did renew, + Fra’ which, a paraphrase he drew, + An’ thus began, + I’ conversation clear, an’ frindship true, + Like man te man. + + “Ah lahtle thowght, as weel thoo knaws, + Thoo te t’ public wad expooase, + Mah awd gray cooat, wi’ all its flaws, + An’ stick an’ all, + For want o’ which, the aged prood + Seea offens fall. + + Ah varry leeatly gat a hint, + They’d put oor stoory into prent, + An’ copies roond the coontry sent + Beeath left and reeght; + Bud if ’twur deean wi’ gud intent, + Gud luck gang wi’ ’t. + + Noo all Ah sed wur meeant for gud, + If it wur reeghtly understud; + Te sum neea doot, t’language wud + Seeam quite abrupt;— + We’re all alike, ov flesh and bleead, + An’ hearts corrupt. + + Fooaks oft leeaks mare at bleead an’ breedin, + Than at t’subject they are reeadin, + An’ thus awd prejudice is feedin, + I’ system’s narrow, + For want o’ pains te crack the beean + Th’oft miss t’marrow. + + Men still i’ spite ov all oor caution, + ’Ll hanker efter heeigh promotion; + Like Evan’s Pills, or Rowland’s Lotion + Saain’d by t’King; + We’re seea inclin’d te self-devotion— + That’s the thing.! + + T’ Naation still seeams discontent, + Ther’s strange debeeates i’ parliament, + Petitions on petitions sent + Theer, all implorin; + An’ sum i’ dungeons deep lament + Whahl they’re snoorin. + + Still ower t’land t’clood hangs dull, + An’ we may thrust, an’ they may pull; + Wi’ “Eys an’ Nooas” the paper’s full, + Wi’ applause an’ laughter: + An’ all the gud for poor John Bull + ’S te cum hereafter. + + Still let us calmly wait the end, + On God, an’ nut on man, depend. + Oor Nation’s woond is bad te mend, + Ommost incurable! + His Israel he will still defend, + Wi’ kindness durable. + + Bud numbers streeangely hev backslidden, + An’ deean thooase things ’at wur forbidden, + An’ caused His feeace for te be hidden, + By actions fowl, + Till scarce a ray ov whooap is left + Te cheer the sowl. + + T’coonsel Ah wad recommend + Is all te strave ther lives te mend, + An’ persevere unto the end + I’ word an’ deed. + An’ thooase ’ll nivver want a Frind + I’ t’ taame o’ need. + + Bud Ah mun cut mah stoory shoort, + Or it may mack the critics spoort, + Oor subject’s ov too greeave a soort + Te dwell upon. + Afoore ye spreead yer next repoort, + Ah sal be geean. + + For sin’ we met an’ pearted last, + Ah finnd mah strenth decreeasing fast, + Like floor’s beneeath the Nowthern blast, + Yance fresh an’ gay, + Seea man is doom’d te droop an’ waste, + An’ fade away. + + Ah wad befoore Ah tack mah leave, + Te all, mah deein coonsel give, + An’ if i’ the truth they deea beleeave + Or apprehend, + That truth, whahl Ah’v a day te live + _Ah will defend_.” + + + + +HIS DYING ADVICE. + + + When Eden’s floory garden smiled, + Nor Eve the Sarpent hed beguil’d, + Man stood upreeght an’ undefiled + I’ maand an’ feeature, + An’ sweetest conversation held + Wi’ his Creator. + + Bud when that awful monster sin + Hed gain’d its ugly entrance in + The warld, oor sorrows did begin; + Then Heaven froond, + An’ t’ glitt’ring swoord o’ Justice gleeam’d + On all aroond. + + Sin spreead destruction wide, an’ seean + Grim deeath began his feearful reign;— + Satan wi’ lees an’ malice keen + Went teea an’ fraw, + The frail, the noble sons o’ men + Te owerthraw. + + Bud the Almighty sent his aid, + Enoch an’ Abraham obey’d, + An’ Noah, Job, an’ Daniel pray’d, + An’ Gideon too; + An’ mighty fooas throo mighty faith + They did subdue. + + Then ancient Israel’s altar’s blazed, + An’ solemn congregations gazed, + An’ Holy men ther voices raaized, + An’ trumpets soonded. + Then heathen armies stood amazed, + An’ wur confoonded. + + Then Joshua congker’d i’ the vale, + An’ gud Elijah did prevail;— + The wicked worshippers o’ Baal + He owerthrew, + An’ showed te them the living God + An’ only true. + + An’ while the sacrifice was pure, + Destruction com nut neegh ther door; + I’ moont or tent they wur secure + By neeght or day; + Whahl thraving groups o’ flocks an’ herds, + Aroond ’em lay. + + They towght an’ showed ther childer hoo + Ther Fathers kept ther solemn voo, + When the Almighty leead ’em throo + The desert land; + An’ hoo thooase fell ’at wad nut boo + Te His command. + + An’ seea sud we oor childer teeach, + An’ i’ ther ears gud doctrine preeach, + Befoore corrupt ideas reeach + The tender maand; + An’ when they up te manhood graw, + The gud they’ll finnd. + + Ey, tell ’em whea the sarpent stung, + Hoo Moses an’ hoo Deborah sung, + An’ hoo the Holy Hebrews yoong + Did walk throo fire; + An’ try te tune ther infant tongues + Te David’s lyre. + + Remind ’em ov a Saviour’s love, + Leearn ’em the way God will approve, + Te pray, an’ fix ther thowghts above + Eearth’s fleeting joys, + Which at ther best, when tried ’ll proov, + Bud empty toys. + + Consult the worthies ov’ each age, + Wheas lives are doon i’t’ sacred page, + Nor rest till all the heart engage + Like them i’ feight. + Then we like them oor hostile fooas, + Sal put te flight. + + Te us they as examples stand, + As guide-poosts in a weeary land, + Or like seea monny beeacons grand, + On mountains heeigh, + Te shoo the way Jehovah’s plann’d; + Or deeanger neeigh. + + Bud men graw noo seea warldly wise, + Seea prooan te vanity an’ lies, + T’best o’ coonsel they’ll despise, + Seea queer they live, + They’ll scarce a proper question ax, + Or answer give. + + Mankind i’ gen’ral can espy, + The mooat ’at’s in anoother’s eye, + An’ big an’ busy as Paul Pry, + ’Ll mark it doon;— + It helps fra’ silly passers by + Te hide ther awn. + + Theer’s numbers seeams o’ t’ better soort, + Aroond oor chapels still resoort, + An’ o’ convarsion mack a spoort, + An’ sins forgeean, + An’ at the truly pious shoot, + Ther arrows keen. + + Bud the Almighty sees ther ways, + An’ thof he lenthens oot ther days, + An’ his just rath he noo delays, + ’Tis seer te cum; + The stootest o’ the human race, + Mun meet ther doom. + + Ey, when ther jolly days are spent, + If they i’ taame deea nut repent, + They’ll seerly doon te hell be sent + Te revell theer, + Te curse, an’ fooam, an’ pay ther rint + I’ black despair. + + Freeat nut thysel when thoo doast see + The wicked i’ prosperity, + Te floorish like a green bay tree, + Or cedar tall; + He like a leeaf, by firm decree, + Mun feeade an’ fall! + + Consider thoo what hez beean sed, + An’ o’ ther threeats be nut afraaid, + Beware lest thoo sud be betray’d + By ther deceit;— + An’ t’Lord gie thee, an’ nut upbreead, + His Sperit’s leeght!” + + The coontry’s all anxiety, + Te knaw Awd Isaac’s pedigree, + An’ sum cry oot ’tis all a lee, + A meead up thing;— + Te sike we think it nut woth whahl, + Oor proofs te bring. + + For all that wish te knaw—may read, + The sum an’ substance ov his creed;— + May catch, an’ saw the lahtle seed + Wi’ greeat success. + Bud whoor he liv’d, or whoor he deed, + ’Tis left te guess. + + + + +DIALOGUE ON A STEEPLE CHASE + +AT P******NG, IN YORKSHIRE. + + +_Joe._—Weel Jim, hoo deea lad? What’s t’ news? + Which side is thoo on? Pinks or Blues? + Heer’s sike a mighty stir i’ t’ nation, + ’Tis woth a lahtle conversation. + Ah want te knaw, is’t reeght or wrang;— + Unless thah nerves is varry strang, + Ah hev a paper i’ mah pocket, + ’Ll lift thah heart oot ov its socket! + +_Jim._—A paper Joe! What is ’t aboot, + Sum munney matter, ther’s neea doot! + Sum Methodey or Ranter bother, + Or sum Tee-total thing or other. + Yan scarce can pass alang a street, + Bud sum sike like yan’s seer te meet, + Whea’d ommost sweear ’at black is white, + Te gain anoother proselyte, + +_Joe._—A munney matter ’tis o’ coorse, + Fra’ quite an opposition soorce, + For by the Liverpool Recorder, + ’Tis mare o’ the Succession order: + For it is sed by snug repoort, + Religious fooaks hev geen ’t support. + That which we noo te nooatice bring, + Ist’ Steeple Chase at P******ng. + +_Jim._—Whah Joe, thoo’s neean o’ t’ warst o’ fellows, + Cum sit thee doon a piece an’ tell us, + If thoo sud think it neea disgrace, + Aboot this mighty Steeple Chase; + Ov hoo, an’ when, an’ whoor they run, + For honour, munney, or for fun. + Thoo’s just geen me an itchin eear, + Aboot the thing Ah wish’d te heear. + +_Joe._—Thoo sees upon a sarten day, + Ah hennut seen, but heeard ’em say; + Greeat gentlemen hev hosses treean’d, + Fra’ lofty pedigree obteean’d, + Seea full o’ bleead, an’ queerly towght, + Te gallop thruff or ower owght: + All muster at a sarten pleeace, + An’ this they call the Steeple Chase. + A purse o’ Gold they then present, + An’ word is thruff the coontry sent, + For fower mahle, Ah think they run, + An’ he ’at beeats,—the steeaks his awn. + Sum breeaks ther necks, wi’ missin bridges, + An’ sum gits stuck, wi’ jumpin hedges. + Ey, te confarm t’ truth Ah sing, + They kill’d a hoss at P******ng. + +_Jim._—Wha Joe, thoo quite supprises me, + Te think ’at men ov heeigh degree, + Sud reeally hev neea mare respect + For owther men’s or hosses necks. + +_Joe._—A boss is nowght i’ sike a keease! + Bairn! sowls is nowght at t’ Steeple Chase! + They for a trifle swap an’ sell ’em, + An’ t’ parsons hezzen’t sense te tell ’em. + T’ Steeple Chase is suted quite, + Te glut t’ carnal appetite. + Thooase whea ther Baable love, an’ preear, + ’Ll finnd bud bareish picking theer. + +_Jim._—Maund Joe, thoo izzen’t ower severe, + An’ ’at thah coonsel be sincere. + The Law hez monny curious links, + Man mooan’t speeak awlus as he thinks. + Thof Ah me-sel feel shock’d te think, + Men sud seea rush on ruin’s brink: + Mitch mare te be encouraged in, + What mun be a presumptuous sin. + +_Joe._—The mare Ah see this standard reeas’d, + The mare an’ mare Ah stand ameeaz’d + Te think ’at parsons cannut see’t, + An’ tell ’em pleean it izzen’t reeght! + ’At men sike tidings sud procleeam, + An’ thooase ’at beear t’Christian neeame + I’ spite ov all divine advice, + Te sanction sike a sweepin vice. + +_Jim._—Whativver be t’satisfaction, + It hez a woonderful attraction; + An’ macks ’em freely use ther shanks, + ’Specially them o’ t’ heeigher ranks, + Fra’ Scarbro’, Malton, York, an’ Leeds, + They cum on lofty mounted steeds, + Ower dazzlin ommost te behold, + Wi’ silver’d whips, an’ cheeans o’ gold. + Theer’s bands o’ music, colours flying, + Hams, an’ legs o’ mutton frying, + Nimble waiters on the wing, + Te see ’em drink, an’ hear ’em sing, + Ther’s gamlin teeables, orange stalls, + Ther’s spices, nuts, an’ dancin dolls. + All things te sute the carnal taste, + May just be foond at t’ Steeple Chase. + +_Joe._—Thooase men hes gitten ’t i’ ther power + Regardless o’ the sufferin poor, + Te gallop ower hedge an’ dyke, + An’ deea an’ say, just what they like. + An’ all the while they run these rigs, + An’ sing, an’ drink, an’ dance ther jigs, + They’ll booast o’ noble ancestry, + An’ mighty steeple pedigree! + If onny wish the cause te knaw, + Whah they are able te deea seea,— + “’Tis munney macks the meer te gang, + Macks wrang seeam reeght, an’ reeght seeam wrang.” + +_Jim._—The thing sud be te them meead knawn, + Ther gold an’ silver’s nut ther awn. + Ther cattle they abuse an’ kill, + Belangs to t’Lord o’ Zion’s hill. + They sud be warn’d i’ ivvery pleeace, + Te gie up sike like wicked ways. + Or seer as theer’s a God aboon, + They’ll pull ther awn destruction doon. + +_Joe._—They hev been warn’d an’ hev refus’d, + Whahl thooase gud things they hev abus’d; + By which abuse they breeak God’s Law, + An’ that he’ll sum day let ’em knaw. + This maks ’em breeathe pernicious breeath, + An’ swagger on the verge o’ deeath, + Whahl oothers—rayther than control, + ’Ll breeak ther necks, an’ loss ther sowl. + +_Jim._—A man tell’d me by way o’ jooak, + Bud kind o’ trimmel’d as he spooak, + They’d Doctors pleeaced wi’in a shoot, + Te slip necks in, ’at gat slipt oot.[A] + +_Joe._—It’s awful booastin this indeed,— + Bad sample o’ beeath fruit an’ seed. + Sike may upbraad the warld wi’ sizm, + It is next deer te Socialism. + Sike booastin they will sum day rue, + If we admit the Baable true. + All thooase mun pass a mighty change, + Afoore the happy hills they range!— + Bud tiv oor teeal let us ton back, + Lest we get farther fra’ oor track. + The day arrives, the smiling sun, + Procleeams the Steeple Chase begun. + On eeager eears the tumult steeals, + Ov prancin steeds, an’ rumblin wheels. + It wur a day ov winks an’ nods, + Ov lofty deeds, an’ lofty wods. + As thof they hed for ther defence! + The thunner ov Omnipotence! + T’ fooaks com rowlin in by skoors, + Fra’ neeab’rin toons, an’ off o’ t’ moors. + Like cloods ov locusts in they hale, + Fra’ Goadland, Sleights, an’ Harwood Dale. + ’Tis seerly sum enchanted string, + That does sike croods tegither bring. + Like bees, they roond the steeple swarm, + In it they likely see neea harm. + +_Jim._—Neea harm! What harm, Joe, can there be, + I’ seeing sike a rarity:— + Ov men an’ hosses heeighly fed, + Wi’ priests an’ squires at ther head; + Ov gentlemen, an’ ladies gay, + As bonny as the floors i’ May. + Theer riches, yooth, an’ beauty shine, + Array’d i’ silk, an’ superfine. + An’ farmers’ maidens, yoong an’ fair, + We wonder hoo they’ve taame te spare; + Wi’ lads ov manners rough an’ rude, + All mixing i’ yah multitude. + An’ poor awd men, ’at scarce can blaw, + Wi’ beards an’ whiskers white as snaw; + Sad sample ov oor fallen race, + All rollin up to t’ Steeple Chase. + An’ farmers’ sarvants leeave ther pleugh, + Callin ther maister black an’ blue, + Whea for ther credit an’ ther neeame, + Hed coonsel’d them te stay at heeame. + Ah met ’em as Ah com alang, + (They wonder’d whah Ah waddn’t gang,) + Wi’ roosy cheeks, an’ shoothers brooad, + Bettin weagers up o’ t’ rooad. + Ther leeaks an’ words at yance declare, + Ther treasure an’ ther hearts are theer. + If yah contrary sentence drop, + That mooth they quickly try te stop. + When roond the splendid stand they meet, + ’Twad deea a blinnd man gud te see’t; + Besaads the men’s seea faanly drist! + The Steeple Chase,—whah whea wad miss’t? + +_Joe._—Fra’ furst te last it is desaun’d, + Te pleease an’ fascinate the maand; + Te lift it, as on eagle’s wings, + An’ draave off thowghts o’ better things. + The stewards full o’ wardly wit, + Pronoonce ’at all things noo are fit, + When thoosands then roll up te see, + As drawn by Steeple witchery. + Fra’ whence they cum, or whoor they dwell, + If yoo’ve a paper it ’ll tell. + Ye ken the horses whea’s they are, + By t’ colours ’at ther riders wear. + Thus whether i’ the rooad or noa, + Wi’ whip an’ spur away they goa; + Ower hedge an’ dyke,—there’s nowght can stop ’em, + Unless an angry God unprop em. + Thus riding ower grass, or coorn + ’Ats growin,—or ’ats leeatly sown, + There’s neean dare lift a hand, or say, + What hev ye deean, or whea’s te pay, + Whahl oaths profane, an’ lafter lood, + Are utter’d by the gaping crood;— + By some whea yance religion luv’d, + Not only sanction’d, bud appruv’d! + If ivv’ry ward an’ secret thowght, + Mun be yan day te judgment browght, + Oh, how unlike sike wark as this, + Is that which leads te glorious bliss! + Te see ’em thus seea blithe an’ merry, + Wur famous pastaame for Awd Harry. + If owght te him cud be delighting, + ’Twad be to see ’em drunk an’ feighting. + He popt aboot amang t’ people, + At last he popt up on to’t steeple, + Open’d a pair ov dismal jaws, + Flapt his black wings, an’ yawn’d applause: + Like sum prood Emperor ov awd, + Upon the wether cock he rode, + ’Whoor he mud all at yance survey, + The grand proceedings ov the day. + A flagstaff for a whip he seized, + An’ spurr’d the spire he wur seea pleeased, + Te think it sud his cause defend, + An’ that his bait hed answer’d t’end. + +_Jim._—Tis not for thee te criticise, + On men seea greeat, seea rich, seea wise, + They aim, neea doot, as weel as thee, + Te gang te heeaven when they dee. + What thof ther munney be bud lent, + Thoo knaws ’at munney mun be spent. + Besaads they hev example too,— + If t’ _parson’s_ theer—What’s that te thoo? + +_Joe._—If thooase sud miss ther passage heeame, + A careless priesthood they may bleeame. + Blinnd guides they are, an’ t’Kirk’s ther moother, + An’ they wean’t gang te hear neea other. + We Christians run a diff’rent race, + Te what we call the Steeple Chase. + Besaads we finnd i’ Holy writ, + Ther’s neean cums theer ’at are nut fit. + +_Jim._—Thoo meeans te proove by argument, + Thooase ’at cums theer mun first repent, + An’ be throo Jesus Christ forgiven, + Afoore they’re i’ the rooad te heaven. + Neea carnal plissure they mun share, + Bud live a life ov faith an’ prayer. + If thooase alone hev saving grace, + Doon gangs at yance the Steeple Chase. + +_Joe._—Seea legions fell fra’ leeght te dark, + Seea Dagon fell afoore the ark, + Seea God prood Pharaoh owerthrew, + Wi’ Sisera, an’ Goliath too. + Seea fell the lords i’ sad supprise, + Wheas hands hed put out Samson’s eyes. + Thooase mighty men wur turn’d te dust, + An’ seean the Steeple Chasers must. + +_Jim._—Whah, Joe, it caps me fair te ken, + Hoo thooase heeigh flying gentlemen, + Can fra’ ther chasing gang te t’ kirk, + An’ join i’t’ blessed Sunday’s wooark, + Singing wi’ all ther might an’ main, + This heaven inspir’d, this holy strain, + “Let all thy converse be sincere, + “Thy conscience as the noon-day clear, + “For God’s all seeing eye surveys + “Thy secret thoughts, thy works and ways;”— + An’ then fra’ t’ kirk te t’ Steeple Chase, + An’ set at nowght God’s luv an’ grace, + Call t’dissenters, an’ shoot thruff t’nation, + For “_Apostolical succession_!” + +_Joe._—Te bring oor converse te a close, + Oor only aim is te expose, + The thing Almighty God doth hate,— + Nut te provoke unkind debate. + The day’s nut far ’at will reveal + The truth, an’ fix the final seal. + Sum may when its teea late te rue, } + Finnd what they hoped wur false—is _true_ } + Consarning everlasting woe! } + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] It was a saying of one of the Riders, that he carried two or three +loose necks in his pocket, in case anything happened to his own. + + + + +THE LUCKY DREEAM, OR AN AWD THING RENEWED. + + + Yah Kesenmas neeght, or then aboot, + When meeasons all wur frozen oot, + Ah went te see a coontry frind, + An hospitable hoor te spend. + For gains Ah cut across at moor, + Whoor t’snaw seea furiously did stour:— + The hoose Ah geean’d, an’ enter’d in, + An’ wor as welcome as a king. + The stoorm ageean t’winder patter’d, + An’ hailsteeans doon t’chimler clatter’d, + All hands wur in, an’ seeam’d content, + An’ neean did frost or snaw lament. + T’lasses all wur at ther sowing, + Ther cheeks wi’ health an’ beauty glowing. + Aroond the heearth in cheerful chat + Twea’r three frindly neeaburs sat; + Ther travels telling,—whoor they’d been, + An’ what they hed beeath heeard an’ seen; + Till yan us all did mitch amuse, + An’ thus a stoory introduce. + “Ah recollect lang sin,” sez he, + “A stoory that wur tell’d te me, + ’At seeams seea straange i’ this oor day, + That true or false Ah cannut say. + A man liv’d in this neybourheead, + Neea doot ov reputation gud, + An’ lang taame strave w’ stiddy care, + Te keep his hooshod i’ repair. + At length he hed a curious dreeam, + For three neeghts runnin ’twur the seeam; + ’At if on Lunnon Brigg he stood, + He’d heear sum news wad deea him gud. + He labour’d hard, beeath neeght an’ day, + Tryin te draave thooase thowghts away, + Yet daily grew mare discontent, + Till he at last te Lunnon went! + Being quite a stranger te that toon, + Lang taame he wander’d up an’ doon, + Till led by sum mysterious hand, + On Lunnon Brigg he teeak his stand; + An’ theer he waited day by day, + An’ just wur boon te cum away, + Seea mitch he thowght he wur te bleeam, + Te gang seea far aboot a dreeam, + When thus a man, as he drew neear, + Did say, “Good friend, what seek you here, + Where I have seen you soon and late?” + His dreeam te him he did relate. + “Dreams,” sez the man, “are empty things, + Mere thoughts that flit on silver’d wings; + Unheeded we should let them pass:— + I’ve had a dream, and thus it was, + That somewhere round this peopled ball, + There’s such a place as Lealholm Hall; + Yet whether such a place there be, + Or not, is all unknown to me. + There in a cellar, dark and deep, + Where slimy creatures nightly creep, + And human footsteps never tread, + There is a store of treasure hid. + If it be so, I have no doubt, + Some lucky wight will find it out: + Yet so or not, is nought to me, + For I shall ne’er go there to see!” + The man did slyly twice or thrice, + The cockney thenk for his advice, + Then heeame ageean wi’oot delay, + He cheerfully did tak his way, + An’ set aboot the wark, an’ sped, + Fund ivv’ry thing, as t’ man hed sed, + Wur ivver efter seen te floorish, + T’finest gentleman i’ all the parish. + Fooaks wonder’d sare, an’ weel they meeght, + Whoor he gat all his ginnes breeght! + If it wur true, in spite ov feeame, + Te him it wor a lucky dreeam. + + + + +A STRANGE EFFUSION, + +OR + +WESLEYANISM AT EASBY, + +IN THE STOKESLEY CIRCUIT: + + _Written when the Methodists were deprived of the place of + worship in which they had been accustomed to meet._ + + + They’re wakken’d at Easby, the Lord is amang ’em, + Thof turn’d oot o’ t’ temple ’at used te belang ’em, + Anoother we whooap afoore lang ’ll be beelt, + Whoor sinners thruff Christ may hev pardon for guilt. + T’ Lord seems te oppen a way out afoore ’em, + Thof neybourin lions hev aim’d te devoor ’em. + When t’awd maister mariner fail’d at the helm, + They thowght it wad all the consarn owerwhelm; + An’ when they appear’d ov all succour bereft, + They endeeavour’d te freeghten t’ few ’at wur left. + Bud the Lord wur detarmin’d te be ther protection, + Te send ’em suppoort, an’ gie ’em direction; + If nobbut, like monny, they wadden’t betray him, + Bud stick te that text, beeath te luv an’ obey him. + They can’t be content wi’ ther steeple opinions, + Bud they mun mack inrooads on others’ dominions; + Thof theers be in gen’ral the fat an’ the wealthy, + For t’want of gud physic, they seldom are healthy. + Hoo strange ’at they sud sike fair temples erect, + Te murder the sowls in—they’re swoorn te protect! + Bud stranger they’ll finnd it o’ yon side the fleead, + Wi’ ther hands an’ ther garments all stain’d i’ ther bleead! + We needn’t te wonder they mack sike a fuss, + Ther craft is i’ danger fra’ rebels like us:— + For God can mack preeachers—hoo feearful the thowght— + Fra’ cobblers, or meeasons, or blacksmiths, or owght! + O yes! Dr. Pusey may whet his awd grinders, + An’ put on his captives ther fetters an’ blinders; + Ther’s poor men iv Easby ’at ken his awd sang, + An’ see the defect ov beeath him an’ his gang. + He may scare ’em wi’ taxes, wi’ rates, an’ oppression, + All thooase whea are oot o’ the line o’ succession, + Thof te prove ’at _he’s_ in’t, he’s a varry poor chance, + Unless he unite wi’ the Romans at yance. + Then t’ Romans wad help him, an’ think it all reeght, + Te murder Dissenters, an’ put oot ther leeght; + Te cut ’em i’ pieces, te butcher an’ bon ’em, + Bud till that’s the keease they cannut owerton ’em! + Nur Stowsley, nur Yatton, ther frinds will invite, + Nur Skelton, nur Brotton, ther efforts unite; + They’ll finnd te ther mortification an’ pain, + They hev fowght wi’ t’ wind, an’ hev labour’d i’ vain! + + + + +LEALHOLM BRIDGE. + +A SOLILOQUY DURING A VISIT, AFTER SOME YEARS’ ABSENCE. + + + Ah, lovely Lealholm! Where shall I begin, + To say what thou art now, and once hast been? + Once the dear seat of all my earthly joys, + That now, in recollection only, rise! + Methinks, where’er I look no life appears, + But all the place a cheerless aspect wears; + Thy groves are desolate, thy swains are fled, + And many of them number’d with the dead; + Religion ’s cold, the poor are sore oppress’d, + Thy orphans weep, and widows are distress’d. + O let us pray their griefs may shortly end, + And God, their Father, still may prove their friend. + This ancient Bridge some faint idea brings, + Where still the swallow comes and dips her wings; + The murmuring river, and the rumbling mill, + Bear some resemblance to poor Lealholm still; + Yon silent whirlpool beautifies the scene, + Where shades of trees are in its deepness seen, + Where leaping fishes on the surface play, + And gladly seems to close, the summer’s day; + The broken waters from yon glen resound, + Their constant rippling ’s heard the village round; + Yon burden’d iron pinion loudly shrieks, + While tears of oil hang on his rusty cheeks; + The greedy race, the water still supplies, + The lofty wheel’s broad shelves successive rise; + The thund’ring engine doth her hands employ, + And Hunter’s place is fill’d by William Joy; + The floating bubble swims upon the wave, + While Ord[B] lies mould’ring in the silent grave; + Behind yon hill the sun escapes from sight, + And yields his empire to the shades of night. + Alas! Poor Lealholm once in glory shone, + But now, she like a widow, sits alone! + Once from yon town the people flock’d like bees, + To taste the sweetness of the country breeze; + Pedestrians joyful, here and there were seen, + While shays and whiskeys deck’d her level green; + The banks of Esk, were crowded all along, + Either with Anglers, or with lookers on. + The full “Moon,”[C] then did through her valleys shine, + So bright, some thought she never would decline; + Year after year she in her sphere did move, + And all seem’d animation, life, and love: + But now, in mists and gloom she disappears, + Eclips’d—her light no longer Lealholm cheers! + Pluck’d from her orb, her borrow’d lustre’s fled, + And in the silent tomb, she rests her head. + In distant lands my father’s lot was cast, + And we were left to feel the bitter blast. + Death’s fatal hand its victim did arrest, + And tore him from the darlings of his breast. + I, by a mother’s care, when young was led, + Down by the river to yon primrose bed, + Where birds so sweetly sung the trees among, + I thought those days were happy, bright, and long. + Oft I, a boy, with others of my age, + Did eager here in youthful sports engage. + Oft in yon wood we rov’d when life was new, + The rocks, and trees and rugged caves to view; + Where woodbines wild, with sweets perfum’d the air, + And all seem’d joyous, beautiful, and fair. + Alas! where’s now the grove? The trees are gone! + And many the wide ocean are upon: + A few remaining springers yet survive, + And keep their owner’s name and place alive! + Just so it is with us, could we but see, + Our fathers who are in eternity! + Their offspring live, but they’re for ever gone, + Their portion’s fixed, no more will they return! + May we be wise, and lessons learn afresh, + To trust no longer in an arm of flesh!— + Begin to seek, and rest not till we find + The peace of God, which satisfies the mind. + Then seeing all my earthly joys are fled, + Where, O my soul! art thou for succour led? + ’Tis Jesus, that can all thy wants supply, + A fountain ’s there which never will run dry: + Arabia’s grove, nor Sharon’s flowery field, + Such rich perfume, such holy incense yield: + ’Tis Jesus’ merit, and his dying love, + ’Tis these perfume the glorious courts above! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[B] The Mill was built by Mr. Ord. + +[C] Mrs. Moon, landlady of the Public House, who died during the +Author’s absence. + + + + +OLD SAM! + +OR + +THE EFFECTS OF THE GOSPEL. + + + Attend, all ye who Zion’s tidings love, + Whose hearts and hopes are fix’d on things above, + Whose chief delight is centred in the fame, + Of signs and wonders wrought through Jesus’ name;— + All ye who virtue love, and evil hate, + Attend, while I a simple tale relate. + A preacher being to a village sent, + To warn and woo the people to repent; + Depending only on God’s mighty grace, + His pious soul was looking for success. + For God, his people had a house prepared, + In which his arm had many times been bared, + And in that little village congregation, + Were found some earnest seekers of salvation. + Among the rest a noted Bruiser stood, + Whose hands had oft been stain’d with human blood; + A man of constitution so robust, + He oft had laid Goliaths in the dust. + He fully on the preacher fix’d his eye, + But scarcely could declare the reason why; + The subject, and the theme on which he dwelt, + Caught his attention, and its force he felt. + He thought the preacher all his actions knew, + His words, like arrows, pierc’d his conscience through; + His spirits fell, his heart was sick and sore, + Such anguish he had never felt before. + It seem’d to him as if an angel spoke, + He felt within as if his heart was broke, + He thought he heard mount Sinai’s thunder roll, + Which shook the very centre of his soul! + Such mighty strokes soon humbled all his pride, + He sank condemn’d, and loud for mercy cried. + “What shall I do?” said he, “Nay, who can tell? + Oh! how shall I escape the pit of Hell?” + On bended knees he did salvation seek, + Big tears roll’d down his long undaunted cheek:— + The people pray’d, the sinner wept the more,— + This man, who till that hour, ne’er wept before. + After a time his mighty anguish ceas’d, + The Lord of life his captive soul releas’d! + The joy he felt he scarcely could contain, + The people sung—“a sinner’s born again!” + Some time elaps’d—two of his mates had met, + As custom was, and in a tavern sat, + Conversing on events that daily pass’d, + Till one the other thus address’d at last. + “Heard you not what occurred the other day? + Old Sam has been converted, people say!” + “Old Sam!” the other says, with great surprise, + “What Sam, the Boxer?” “Yes!” the other cries! + “Depend upon’t, though you may think it strange, + But in old Sam there is a wondrous change!” + “Nay,—he converted! Pshaw! ’tis all a whim; + They’ve just as much converted me as him; + And I can find a man, I have no doubt, + That soon will beat all his religion out.” + “Perhaps not so,” the other softly said, + “I think Old Sam ’s of better mettle made, + I know that he was always bad to bend, + And on his firmness I will still depend.” + The other rose, and would a wager bet, + Old Sam was not so far converted yet, + But that if pick’d at, he would turn again, + And still he would the bloody cause maintain. + To Sammy’s door their way direct they took, + For he had now the tavern’s haunts forsook; + They call’d a rebel out to lead the van, + To vex and aggravate the poor old man. + At length they reach’d, and rattled at the door, + Standing around, like lions to devour + His happy soul; but he had by his side, + King David’s faithful Shepherd for his guide. + Old Sammy from his Bible reading rose, + And straightway forth to meet the rebel goes; + “Here’s one,” say they, “will fight for what you like!” + He stamp’d, and raged, and dared old Sam to strike; + Sam look’d and smiled, as he before him stood, + Then shook his head, thinking the cause not good; + At length his flaming passion to control, + He cries, “The Lord have mercy on thy soul! + Thy case I pity, O thou man of might, + Although this practice once was my delight; + Calm thy fierce rage, and to old Sam attend, + Before destruction prove thy awful end. + I clearly see the spirit thou art in, + For I myself oft in the same have been; + And many a one like thee I’ve made to bend, + And brought their boasting valour to an end. + ’Tis well for thee that I’m another man, + Or thou wouldst rue the day that this began; + I soon should settle all thy boasts and brags, + And make thy bones fall rattling on the flags! + Thou mayst thank God, whose power and grace divine, + Have chang’d this proud, rebellious heart of mine; + The love I feel to thee forbids the blow, + Which soon would lay thy boasting prowess low. + Restrain thy passion, give old Sam thine hand, + Be thankful that thou dost before him stand; + Go tell the men whom once I did adore, + Their wager’s lost, old Sam will fight no more; + Tell them to save their money for their wives, + Give up their folly, and reform their lives; + To go and seek salvation while they may, + Before the wrath of God drives them away!” + Sam’s noble speech so satisfied them all, + That not one there durst him a coward call. + “Although the wager ’s fairly lost,” say they, + “We all must own old Sam hath won the day!” + Now Sammy like a warrior stout and bold, + Seeks new companions, and forsakes the old; + While shouts of praise his ravish’d ears surround, + He hears, and understands, the joyful sound! + Yes, Sammy has a better master now, + And more substantial friends to deal with too; + Secure he leans on his Redeemer’s breast, + And sweetly sings himself away to rest. + + + + +THOUGHTS ON GOOD FRIDAY: + + Occasioned by seeing two “_Sinkers_” dragged out of a Coal Pit; + one of them killed, the other dreadfully wounded. At a short + distance, a busy crowd were preparing their tents and posts for + the approaching races, on Easter Monday and Tuesday. On + mentioning the fatal occurrence, and naming the day, a + bystander exclaimed, “O, Good Friday is nought!” + + + The morning sun shone dim, as if in pain, + To see that day by man so soon despised. + The feather’d choirs did heedless man reprove, + Who had more cause than they, with early song + To greet the morn, on which their Saviour bled. + Alas! that man should e’er forget his love! + Down, down the pit, the cheerful sinkers went, + Nor grief, nor fear through all the gloom appear’d; + Though at the bottom deep, grim death sat shrouded + In horrid features, measuring their minutes! + Foul was the air, and bad;—they saw him not, + Nor dream’d he was so near, nor held dispute, + On which the lot might fall, to be his victim:— + When suddenly, through wanton carelessness, + Or the just judgment of an angry God, + The kibble kick’d, brim full of splinter’d rock! + Down fell at once his ponderous instrument, + Full thirty fathom, whizzing as it went! + Beneath its heavy crash a victim fell, + And groan’d, nor ceas’d, till he had groan’d his last. + Then from behind the scene the monster stept, + And with his bony fingers hurl’d his dart: + Its point another touch’d, but not so deep. + Forth from the pit I saw the sufferers dragg’d, + I heard deep groans, and saw their mangled flesh. + The former then with grief was quick interr’d, + The other a poor halting cripple lives. + Where’s now the man that says “Good Friday’s nought?” + With accidents like this, God’s swift judgments, + I could, if ’twere requested, fill these sheets; + But to the man who thinks, and judges right, + This may suffice. And is Good Friday nought? + Is that day nought on which our Saviour bled, + To buy our pardon, to save by suff’ring! + Open salvation’s fount for crimson crimes, + And wash, and make us guilty lepers clean? + Alas for man! He sees, he feels it not! + Of old, men saw, and felt it, though far off. + The martyrs saw, own’d, and observ’d it too, + In fasting, prayer, and self-denial; + This made them march, when call’d, with holy joy, + To meet the dagger’s point, or burning stake. + The earth once felt, and felt to her foundations; + The marble mountain felt, and quak’d, and shiver’d; + The sun felt, and grew dark; the heavens wept, + And hell beneath, in dismal groanings howl’d! + The serpent felt,—and still feels in his bruis’d head. + The Saviour!—Yes, the King of Glory felt, + In that sad cup his subjects should have drunk:— + Both in the temple, and the wilderness, + The street, the judgment hall,—in Pilate’s scourge, + In cruel mockings, and the scarlet robe! + He felt it too beneath the rugged wood, + When He fatigued climb’d Calvary’s steep brow! + He felt it in the hammer and the nails + That pierc’d his flesh, though he offended not! + He felt it in the reed, and crown of thorns! + He felt it in the hyssop, vinegar, and gall, + In strange upbraidings, and the soldier’s spear! + He felt it in that mighty crush, which should, + And would have crush’d, his guilty murderers. + He felt it till his mortal part expir’d! + He feels it yet, and so do his disciples: + But the proud stiff-neck’d sinner feels it not;— + Perverse, he _will not_, yet one day he shall! + Though he at present, feast and garnish out + His wife’s, or children’s birth days, and his own, + With songs, and cards, and music, and the dance, + Yet this, like Job’s day, shall be blotted out! + Though he _will not_, yet he shall regard it, + When God appears in majesty, and power, + Arm’d with thunder-bolts, and chariots of fire, + On all his foes to pour his vengeance! + Yes! All men then will wish to be his friends. + E’en those who have his words and grace despis’d, + Will wish their lives were to begin again!— + “Whither, O, whither shall the guilty flee, + When consternation turns the good man pale!” + + + + +TO A WITHERED FLOWER! + + + Withering Flower, upbraid me not! + Why cast on me that look so pale? + Why dost thou my attention court, + To listen to thy mournful tale? + Why bow thy head? Why bend thy neck? + Why look so drooping, wan, and cold? + To give my careless thoughts a check,— + And tell me _I_ am getting old! + + Fading Flower, upbraid me not! + Still nodding with the gentle breeze. + Or dost thou think I have forgot, + I too am wasting by degrees? + For scarce can I believe my sight, + Who lately saw thee fresh and gay; + That beauty could so early blight, + Or such fresh colours fade away! + + Drooping Flower, upbraid me not! + But turn to Sol’s enlivening ray. + I in some climate cold or hot, + Must also sicken and decay! + Nay, why dost thou shake off thy leaf, + And show thy heart so fair and clean? + But mine to smite with inward grief,— + To feel the many plagues within. + + Weeping Flower, upbraid me still! + For half the conquest thou hast gain’d. + Yes! listen to thy tale I will, + Until its meaning be explain’d. + Fair emblem thou of human life; + In thee its changing tints are seen; + Our visit here, so frail and brief, + Is painted in those tints of thine! + + When in thy bud so rich and gay, + Thou did’st escape the spoiler’s hand + That would have reft thy charms away, + ’Twas pity check’d—and let thee stand! + While cherish’d by the blushing fair, + And waving on thy hardy stem, + Thy fragrance rich, perfum’d the air,— + Thou’rt blasted now to me and them! + + Unlike to thee, whose task is done, + When Man shall quit this vale of tears, + After this life’s short glass is run, + Man shall exist in nobler spheres. + All earthly glories fade away, + So transient and so insecure; + With us, alas, how short’s their stay! + Prefigur’d by a dying Flower! + + Yet we have cause to bless the day, + If weary of a life mispent, + By this thy exit, any may + Be led to ponder, and repent. + Thou transient teller of the truth, + May he who bids, and thunders roll, + Forgive the follies of my youth, + And stamp thy lesson on My soul! + + + + +THE COUNTRY LOVE FEAST. + + (_Held in an old Barn, Farndale, Yorkshire._) + + + Sing, O my muse, in praise of Zion sing, + In praise of those who her glad tidings bring, + In praise to Him who left the courts above, + To manifest to us his Father’s love! + Celestial powers, my heart and voice inspire, + If such a worm as I can feel your heav’nly fire; + To such a theme, to such a noble song, + Sublimer strains than I can reach belong. + Glory to God, whose mercy and free grace, + Are not confin’d to either time or place, + To bless, and save the fallen sons of men, + To cleanse believers, and to pardon sin. + O what an humble, yet exalted place, + Where Christians meet, the great I AM to praise. + A Barn!—A Temple! what a place is this! + Emblem of heav’n, and type of future bliss! + An earthen floor serves us on which to tread, + The roof is cover’d with the spider’s web:— + To such is man’s best righteousness compar’d, + By which full many a lofty head’s ensnar’d. + No crimson pews distinguish rich from poor, + No brass inscriptions glitter on the floor, + No marble monuments adorn the wall, + No polish’d altars where men prostrate fall, + No tapestry doth hang the pulpit round, + No costly vaults are in this temple found, + No pealing organ’s note delights the ear, + But what is better far,—our God is here! + Wherever two or three sincerely meet, + Who have towards Zion’s city turn’d their feet, + ’Tis there our God himself vouchsafes to be, + To bind the strong, and set the prisoner free. + The world’s applause we cheerfully disdain, + And shelter here from company profane. + For as we differ, ’tis by Jesus’ grace, + And ’tis His presence dignifies the place. + Before us here the bread of life is spread, + Behind are stalls where now the ox is fed. + Like that in Bethlehem where Jesus lay, + This stable now beholds a glorious day! + Here Pilgrims meet their travels to relate, + And when, and where they enter’d mercy’s gate. + They tell us how their eyes with tears did fill, + When unbelief was wilful of its will. + They tell us how their sins did them oppress, + And fill’d their inmost souls with deep distress; + And how the Lord their burden did remove, + Pardon’d their sins, and fill’d their hearts with love. + They all rejoice to see each other’s face, + To hear each prospers in the work of grace. + With one consent their cheerful hearts aspire, + And ecstasies of joy their bosoms fire. + Such times as these we think too soon are gone, + Our happy souls cemented into one! + We pray, and part, each to his distant home, + And still we cry, “Lord, let thy kingdom come!” + Both far and near his Kingdom doth extend, + Temples are rising both by sea and land. + The Bethel flag, high waving in the air, + Calls seamen to engage in praise and prayer, + Whole streets, reform’d, the great assembly join, + Speak with new tongues, and sing in songs divine. + Poor trembling sinners wipe their watery eyes, + And lamentations pierce the bowing skies! + Blasphemers fall beneath the power of God, + And statesmen flock to hear his Holy Word; + While some of them a portion find to spare, + Waste Zion’s walls and bulwarks to repair. + See golden prospects round us rise, + See the dejected raise their downcast eyes, + The liberated captives shout applause + To Zion’s King, and his victorious cause! + + + + +ODE TO BRITAIN. + + + Shine, Britain! Shine! Thy virtues we commend; + Thy light to distant nations shall extend. + A city on a hill cannot be hid, + Nor can’st thou be, while Heav’n lifts up thy head. + Shine, Britain! Shine! O send the bible forth, + To each benighted corner of the earth; + Till all with joy its richest blessings taste, + And share with us the glorious Gospel Feast. + O happy people! Highly favour’d Isle! + Which shares the sunshine of Jehovah’s smile. + The scenes thy sons and daughters have enjoy’d, + Kings have desir’d to see, but were denied. + We hope the sound of discord soon will cease, + And angels sing a universal peace! + When barren lands with plenty shall abound, + And Christ be worshipp’d the wide world around. + At thoughts of this the lonely desert sings, + To see his altars throng’d with prostrate Kings; + To see great men of honour and renown, + Cast off the coronet to wear a crown! + Hasten, O Lord, the long—long wish’d for day, + When favour’d with thy truth’s enlightening ray, + Poor Hottentots shall raise the song divine, + And savage Turks, the heav’nly concert join. + When Blacks and Whites, a vast redeemed throng, + Shall all unite to swell the mighty song; + Worship one God, and hail Him Lord and King, + Through the whole world the Saviour’s praises sing. + + + + +A VOICE FROM THE DEAD! + + Written on being uncivilly treated, when erecting some + Tombstones in —— Church Yard, where the Author was denied the + use of any part of the Church, Porch, or Stable; was forbidden + to Letter the Stone in the Church Yard, though it was more than + a mile from the Church to the nearest convenient place for such + a work; and was also denied the Keys of the Gate:—yet at that + very time, the parson’s horse and cow, were feeding on the + grass, tearing up the graves, and breaking down the stones, + while none dared to complain! On seeing the horse’s leg sink + into a grave up to the lisk, the following thoughts suggested + themselves. + + + What foot is that disturbs my rest, + Which through my coffin lid hath press’d, + And caus’d my bones the air to feel?— + It is the parson’s horse’s heel! + + ’Tis hard so much as there’s to pay, + That corpses cannot quiet lay, + But are by cow or horse plough’d up, + For priests to reap a three-fold crop! + + Through such a process they must pass, + The grave, the tombstone, and the grass, + And Easter Offering beside:— + These claims must never be denied! + + What though they do the grass devour, + And leave their dung against the door! + Pay up,—say nought,—’What’s that to thou?’ + It is the parson’s horse or cow! + + I know the living dare not grumble, + Nor at the parson’s conduct stumble! + And when the simple truth is told, + Of dead men they can get no hold. + + We thought no hammer was to sound, + Upon this consecrated ground,— + Yet cow or horse may grind our bones + And rub their sides against the stones! + + Some think things so are constituted, + That masons’ tools are all polluted, + But that the parson’s horse or cow, + Like th’ Church, is consecrated too! + + Thus they may gallop o’er our graves, + And split our coffins into halves; + In spite of widows tears and groans, + May pastime make of dead folks’ bones! + + This is too hard for flesh and blood! + A thing which cannot be withstood; + A thing which inward grief imparts + To pious minds and tender hearts. + + But men enthrall’d must never speak, + Nor for redress attempt to seek, + But with such creatures be content, + As Bishops have ordain’d and sent. + + Like him who dwells upon the coast, + Who of the priesthood makes his boast, + Regardless what the flock endure, + “If he can but the fleece secure!” + + His present residence and living, + Are of his earthly father’s giving; + So none his title dare dispute, + For Bishops cannot turn him out! + + Though life and conduct be profane, + He knows that men dare not complain; + Or soon he’d show them his degrees, + And take revenge in _tythes_ and _fees_! + + Such workmen’s labour is in vain + To keep their hands from bloody stain; + In vain they strive to show the road, + That leads to glory and to God! + + No wonder if such Church decay, + If members leave it day by day, + Where tyrannising is the law,— + And till a change, it must be so. + + The remedy will be unknown, + Till Priests are of the Spirit born; + Till they get hearts refin’d and pure, + Dissenters must their scorn endure! + + + + +TO THE MOOR BIRDS IN A STORM. + + + Ye birds of the Moor, I doubt you’ll be poor, + The storm is quite likely to last; + The owl and the crow, are shelter’d below, + But you are expos’d to the blast! + + The snow lies so deep, the hill is so steep, + My footsteps are feeble and slow, + O lend me your wings, ye dear little things, + To carry me over the snow! + + Nay, I have no gun, so you need not run, + Nor cackle, nor spread out your tails; + No danger is near, you’ve nothing to fear, + The poacher is down in the dales. + + The wind whistle’s woe, through the valley below, + To the birds that are down in the wood; + You may hear by report, that the gun is afloat, + To scatter their feathers and blood. + + If you’ll be content, till the storm shall be spent, + And suffer no envy or strife; + No doubt but you may, on some future day, + Get fat, and escape with your life! + + But if you encroach, or chance to approach, + The web-footed classes domain; + If wide you should stray, or fall out by the way, + A thousand to one but you’re slain! + + + + +LINES ON RETURNING A BORROWED STICK OF SLENDERISH SIZE, + + Which had been lent with a strict charge to take particular + care of it, and to return it as soon as done with. + + To MR. WILLIAM HORNER, of Ripon. + + + Dear Billy, with thanks, I return thee thy switch, + Which has many times kept me out of the ditch. + I have found oft when stumbling o’er hillock or stone, + A slender supporter is better than none! + + When the stars were beclouded and darkness prevail’d, + And the rain was descending, its aid never fail’d; + For it grop’d out my way, and assisted my sight,— + When my foot would have slipp’d, it kept me upright. + + It never forsook me, or broke my command, + Unless it was when it slipt out of my hand; + Then myself it might blame, for not taking more care, + For when duty demanded it always was there. + + It is rare upon earth to find such a friend, + On which one can always so safely depend;— + When help was most needed it paid most regard, + And never reprov’d me for using it hard! + + + + +THE THUNDER STORM. + + + The praise be thine, Almighty, matchless King, + Whose care and power, my muse presumes to sing; + Whose tender care protects, while thousands sleep, + The wakeful sea-boy on the mighty deep. + Thou dost from perils screen his naked head, + Which in a moment fill the world with dread; + Thou, while thy lightnings flash, and thunders roll, + Dost whisper secret peace into his soul! + + The praise be thine, whose interposing power, + Protected us across yon lonely moor, + And through that night of terror and alarm, + Mysteriously preserv’d us all from harm! + That night of awful peril we record, + Ascribing all the glory to the Lord; + When from yon distant Meeting we return’d, + And pious friends at home our absence mourn’d! + + The moon and stars at once withdrew their light, + And thus increas’d the horrors of the night, + Loud claps of thunder shook the sons of pride, + And female courage was severely tried! + The time pass’d on in conversation sweet, + While flaming lightning flash’d around our feet,— + Yet by the flash, in each believer’s face + We read the sign of confidence and peace. + + Some to our God did then devoutly pray, + While others sung that awful hour away; + A voice was heard, “Ye need not be afraid, + Whose hope is on the Rock of Ages stay’d!” + Our virgins trimm’d their lamps, and sweetly sung, + And tenderly around each other clung, + While, as through fire and flood they took their way, + Salvation was the burden of their lay. + + ’Midst dismal darkness the black clouds were driven, + With all the fearful majesty of heaven; + And then as if an angel cleft the cloud, + And show’d to man the glowing wrath of God, + More quick than either thought, or sight of man, + From north to south the flaming fluid ran; + The east and west burst into a blaze, + And guilty man beheld it with amaze! + + It seem’d to warn the world against that day, + When earth and sky shall melt, and pass away! + The distant mountains seem’d to own his nod, + And cried to man, “Prepare to meet thy God!” + All glory be to our eternal King, + Who brought us all safe home His praise to sing. + May we both hear and keep his Holy Word, + And so fulfil the royal law of God! + + + + +THE MISER’S AWAY! + + + The miser’s away, and he’ll never come back, + Any more his rusty old guineas to crack, + By his niggardly fare, of potatoes and fish, + His successor enjoys a more plentiful dish. + I once had occasion to pass by his door, + Whose threshold so seldom was cross’d by the poor, + A kitten came out in its innocent play, + And pleasantly three-thrumm’d—“The Miser’s away!” + + The way weary traveller, to shorten the mile, + Sometimes has occasion to go by the style; + The gain that he gets, his spirit revives, + He cuts off an elbow, and sooner arrives. + Through one of his fields the pathway doth lie, + And very few ’scap’d the dint of his eye. + The gate as it opens and creaks, seems to say, + ’Pass stranger, and welcome’—“The Miser’s away!” + + In his ancient old Intake, long kept without fence, + And without cultivation, for fear of expence, + By the plough, or the spade, the rough is made plain, + And the hopeful young husbandman scatters the grain. + Where the bones of the gimmer decay’d on the ground, + And nettles and briars were every where found, + Fine corn is now growing, all smiling and gay; + It had not been so, but—“The Miser’s away!” + + The birds haste away to the green holly bush, + The blackbird now tries to outrival the thrush; + They tip the tall branches on fluttering wing, + Make nearer approaches, and merrily sing. + The flowers in the garden around the bee-hive, + With unwonted freshness begin to revive, + To each new beholder their beauties display, + And whisper in perfume—“The Miser’s away!” + + Here among his old books his Sabbaths he spent, + On logic and physic sat making comment;— + He thought it would be the best method to use, + To save both his carcase, his money, and shoes;— + He’d be his own doctor, and preacher likewise, + And his old yellow heap, like a mountain would rise! + The riches he heap’d up, by night and by day, + Another has found, for—“The Miser’s away!” + + + + +THE MISTAKE: + + Containing a Moral for high looks, and forward folks. + + + Ye sportsmen bright of skill, and sight, + Who range o’er hill and dale; + Awhile give ear, and you shall hear, + A true and homely tale. + Ye friends at home, who seldom roam, + Much farther than the mill, + Be sure you’re wise, and mind your eyes, + Or let your guns lie still. + It happen’d where, as you shall hear, + A building was erected, + That to complete its breadth and height, + Some workmen were collected. + + One morning chill, before yon hill + Was gilded with the sun, + Or adze, or axe, or mallet had, + Their battering begun; + Two favourite ducks, had ’scaped the fox, + Well fed, and feather’d too; + In sportive play, aspiring they + Took wing, and off they flew. + With airy wheel, they quick did scale, + The lofty wall unscar’d, + The trees they topt, and down they dropt + A gun-shot from the yard. + + A joiner ran, to fetch a gun + The wild ducks to secure,— + The gun he brought, with which he thought, + To make at least one fewer. + Through mist and dew, the contents flew, + A duck began to cry, + And one took flight, and left our sight, + Nor could we it espy. + This done, the man full swiftly ran, + To gather up his game,— + Both fore and aft, the people laugh’d, + To see his _wild_ duck _tame_! + + He set her down, she gaz’d around, + Wond’ring at such abuse,— + But for her weight, or else she might + Have pass’d for a wild goose. + In friendship sweet, the ducks soon meet, + And talk their frolic o’er, + And in their play, they seem to say, + They’ll fly so high no more. + Our thoughts oft may, our skill betray, + But actions they speak louder; + If he’d been still, he’d saved his skill, + Likewise his shot and powder! + + + + +THE BROKEN SEAL. + + + To sing of Southcotes clouded fame, + My muse presumes and tries to soar; + Though some may say, “Blot out her name, + Let it be seen or heard no more,” + I have a secret to reveal, + Effected by a broken Seal! + + This poor Joanna had her day;— + While fair and bright the morning shone, + She led too many far astray, + Whose souls much better things had known; + She soon their ancient tribe could tell, + And signed their title with a Seal. + + A poor, illiterate, labouring man, + Who went Joanna’s voice to hear, + A stranger to salvation’s plan, + Had linger’d on from year to year; + He thought she preach’d the gospel real, + And he of course must have a Seal! + + Without a heart transform’d and new, + Joanna Southcote took him in, + And seal’d him her disciple true, + Without repenting of his sin;— + He slyly from his wife did steal, + The price of his mysterious Seal! + + Her creed on such conditions hung, + That while her seals continued whole, + Then hope was bright, and faith was strong, + And they could neither fail nor fall; + But none could rescue those from hell, + Who chanc’d to crack or break the Seal! + + When, lo, upon a certain day, + Examining his little store, + Joanna’s passport to survey; + His pocket book he rummag’d o’er, + But consternation turn’d him pale, + When he perceiv’d he’d _broke_ his Seal! + + His heart was stung with deep dismay, + With anguish, and tormenting fears, + Which like a trumpet night and day, + Did sound this sentence in his ears, + “Thou never canst thy crime conceal, + Remember thou hast broke thy Seal!” + + He thought the Almighty from on high, + Would soon his red hot lightnings pour, + And he, a sinner doom’d to die, + Might then expect the hottest shower;— + God would on him his wrath reveal, + For he had broke the fatal Seal! + + He more than either once or twice, + With heavy heart and tearful eye, + Went to a preacher for advice, + Who soon his sickness did descry; + By what his conscience seem’d to feel, + His heart was broken with his Seal! + + The preacher then without delay, + Did point him to the sinner’s friend, + Exhorting him to watch and pray, + And on the Son of God depend, + Whose efficacious blood could heal + His soul, though he had broke his Seal! + + One day in agonizing prayer, + Believing on the Son of God, + On the dark borders of despair, + He found redemption in His blood, + And from the transport he did feel, + He bless’d the day he broke the Seal! + + + + +THE STONE: + + Composed to gratify a Scottish Rhymer, and brother mason. + + + A stone!—and what about a stone? + What sense is there in that? + I answer, in itself there’s none: + But hold, I’ll tell you what! + Oft while in craggy woods I’ve been, + All silent, and alone, + A thousand beauties I have seen, + Conceal’d within a stone! + + While passing through life’s troubled scenes, + O’erwhelm’d with care and grief, + A stranger in this wilderness, + And needful of relief: + Not wishful then to every one, + To make my troubles known,— + The thing most useful in this world, + I’ve gained it by a stone! + + Some boast of riches, and estates, + Of chariots, and of steeds, + Of ships that sail by wind or steam, + And some of mighty deeds: + But all the treasure I desire, + In cities, or alone, + Is peace of conscience, health of mind, + And hewing at a stone! + + Our kings, and nobles, dukes and lords, + Whose splendid castles rise, + Whose palaces, and lofty towers, + Reach almost to the skies; + Of Greece and Corinth make their boast, + Yet are oblig’d to own, + Some honour due, from first to last, + To those who hew the stone! + + In every town, in modern days, + Some system new prevails, + Men deviate from former ways, + The mason’s art now fails: + Yet masons will be masons still, + And will each other own, + And smile at all attempts of skill + To imitate a stone! + + The work will stand, and not disgrace, + The master-builder’s plan, + Defying rain, and tempests fierce, + For twice the age of man! + With all their compositions curl’d, + And round their columns thrown, + The grandest temple in the world, + We read was built of stone! + + When this fair earth at first arose, + And man was made upright, + Him, the great God of Heaven chose, + And view’d him with delight. + Had he thus stood, (’tis thought by some,) + And in God’s image shone, + It never would have been our doom, + To hew and polish stone. + + But man soon fell, by mortal sin, + And since the deed is done, + And we its captives long have been, + Th’ effect we cannot shun: + Yet though man from perfection fell, + And sin did make him groan, + The Lord in Zion laid for him, + “A sure foundation stone!” + + When men began to multiply, + And sin defil’d the heart, + The Lord look’d down with pitying eye, + With man he could not part. + The sun by day, and moon by night, + And twinkling stars that shone, + He made them all rejoice, and sing, + Of “Christ, the corner stone!” + + Whoe’er upon this stone shall fall, + Shall surely broken be, + Yet he may still be heal’d again, + And be from sin set free: + But he on whom this stone shall fall, + Shall see the Almighty’s frown; + He shall be crush’d as powder small, + By this stupendous stone! + + Moses, that mighty man of God, + Who Israel’s flock did lead, + Whose feet the path of duty trod, + And oft for them did plead, + In conversation with the Lord, + His face with glory shone, + And from awful Sinai bore, + The “Tables made of stone!” + + But lo, revolting Israel’s seed, + In Horeb, as we’re told, + Had during Moses’ absence made, + A calf of molten gold; + Such folly made his griev’d heart ache, + With pangs till then unknown, + And down he threw at once, and brake + The “Tables made of stone!” + + Though ours be not such flagrant sins, + But lie perhaps conceal’d, + The day is coming when all things, + Now hid shall be reveal’d: + And some we have great cause to fear, + If they the truth would own, + Have little gods which they revere + Of gold, or precious stone. + + When once through Israel’s armies brave, + The boasting challenge ran, + When great Goliath sent to Saul, + To find him out a man, + Who would in single combat fight, + Till one should be o’erthrown, + How little did he think that day + Of falling by a stone! + + With steps that made the earth to bend, + And spirit swell’d with pride, + He boasting shook his greaves of brass, + And Israel’s God defied. + From Jesse’s loins a stripling sprung, + Who made the monster groan, + When from the whirling sling he threw, + The feeble,—fatal stone! + + Proud armies have been overthrown, + And cities sack’d within, + And towers and temples broken down, + The sad effects of sin:— + And once an Angel did foreshow, + The fall of Babylon, + When in the heaving deep he threw, + A great and mighty stone! + + When David’s highly favour’d son, + His temple first began, + They from the mountains brought a stone, + Which seem’d a pest to man: + The masons view’d it o’er and o’er, + But oft with haughty scorn, + Rejected it, and roll’d aside + This strange, unshapely stone! + + From first to last it tumbling lay, + An object of disdain, + Till time, upon a certain day, + The mystery did explain. + The last, and loftiest pinnacle, + To finish and adorn + They sought, but none would do so well + As this rejected stone! + + A finer building ne’er was seen, + By any mortal eye, + The timbrels rung, and Israel sung, + And old men wept for joy. + And having thus their temple rear’d + Themselves are forc’d to own, + That which the builders once refus’d + Is now the Corner Stone! + + ’Tis thus Jehovah’s favour’d sons, + With hearts by grace refined, + Are all compar’d to living stones, + For nobler ends design’d. + Thus he the mighty structure rears, + And perfects them in one, + A glorious Church,—and JESUS is + The chief, the corner stone! + + A stone by Daniel was perceiv’d, + And still the record stands, + Which from the mountains should proceed, + Cut out as without hands; + Whose dignity should greater grow, + And mighty Kings dethrone, + Till all the earth be fill’d below, + With this amazing stone! + + So “in due time God sent his Son,” + According to His word, + Whose sacred mission was begun, + And seal’d with precious blood; + Who, while He dwelt on earth below, + Did make salvation known, + And caus’d His heavenly love to flow + In hearts once hard as stone! + + But Pharisees and cruel Jews, + Did seek from day to day, + This holy person to abuse, + To persecute and slay. + But God did give his Angels charge, + O’er his anointed one, + Lest he at any time should dash + His foot against a stone! + + At length his faithfulness to prove, + He for the world must die, + And power was given to wicked men, + The Lord to crucify. + The sun was dark at that event, + And with His dying groan, + Earth trembled! and the rocks were rent,— + The rocks of solid stone! + + His enemies still follow’d Him, + When He lay in the grave + Hewn in the rock, for Joseph’s tomb, + Who did His body crave: + Lest He their projects should destroy, + And they be overthrown, + They shut him in, and set a guard, + And seal’d the mighty stone! + + But Roman bands could not confine + The Saviour to His cell, + He manifests His power divine, + In spite of Earth and Hell: + The Father “owns His suffering Son,” + Nor leaves Him then alone, + For lo! “an Angel comes by night, + And rolls away the stone!” + + He rises to men’s wond’ring view, + And triumphs o’er His foes, + And proves the blessed record true, + Though sin and death oppose: + In glorious majesty He reigns, + On his exalted throne, + And still He power on earth retains, + To soften hearts of stone! + + To those who overcome through Him, + A stone, and a new name + He gives, which none can read but they, + Nor understand the same. + And they shall share His joys divine, + Seated on glittering thrones, + And walk those streets whose pavements shine + Like gold, or precious stones! + + + + +TO THE RISING SUN! ON A FROSTY MORNING. + + + Hail glorious Sun! bright regent of the day; + Gladly I welcome thine all cheering ray: + ’Midst frost and snow, a visit thus from thee, + Sets each numb toe and frozen finger free! + + Bright emblem of the Majesty on high, + Who lives and reigns, the Lord of earth and sky! + Before thy face the hailstones melt away, + And thy glad light turns darkness into day. + + Oft moving down the sloping dale I’ve eyed, + Thy golden radiance from the mountain side; + Have often long’d upon yon hills to be, + To catch a comfortable ray from thee. + + Now chill November’s breath is cold and keen, + The trees around have lost their lovely green, + While horned cattle from the mountains roam, + And for their masters low, to take them home. + + The early plough boy stops to clap his hands, + The tender female dances where she stands; + While I, half starv’d, have thought thy coming long, + But now I hail thee welcome with a song! + + ’Tis said in heathen lands they worship thee, + When o’er the mountain tops thy light they see: + But as thou here no homage dost receive, + I to thy Maker all the glory give. + + His face, like thine, the drooping sinner cheers, + Oppress’d with guilt, and overwhelm’d with fears: + A ray from thee, O uncreated Sun, + Breaks up, and makes long frozen fountains run! + + Thou, from thyself, the soul to purify, + Dost pour the living water from on high, + Which if it doth within the soul remain, + The sinner’s heart shall never freeze again! + + Yes! he who daily drinks of this pure wave, + For sensual pleasure shall no relish have, + But calm amidst the turbulence of life, + Shall dwell for ever free from care and strife. + + Shine, glorious Sun! thy blessings richly pour, + And cheer our fallen world from hour to hour! + With thy glad beams, O visit every vale, + ’Till every starving soul thine influence feel! + + + + +LINES IN MEMORY OF THE REV. D. DUCK, CURATE OF DANBY. + + + Yes! Daniel, faithful Daniel’s gone, + His weeping flock lament their loss; + No more they fix their eyes upon + That zealous preacher of the cross! + + No more he meets them at the gate, + No breezes waft his silver’d hair, + While o’er the dead, both small and great, + His soul breathes out the ardent prayer! + + Nor from his eye, when grave-scenes call, + His streaming tears are seen to flow,— + Those tears, which to the earth did fall, + And mingle with the dust below. + + No more he at the altar stands, + To bless, or break the hallow’d bread, + While from his lips and lifted hands, + Each hungry, holy soul is fed! + + But mingled happy saints among, + His ravish’d soul doth now ascend, + To share that bliss which he so long, + To others here did recommend. + + + + +AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED CHILD. + + + My little boy! my lovely boy! + Why in such haste away? + Will no embrace, or tempting toy, + Induce thy longer stay? + + What prompted thee the day before, + To climb thy Father’s knee,— + Spring to the window or the door, + With such unusual glee? + + I wonder oft, with wakeful eye, + And think it might be so, + Some Spirit then was passing by, + And beckon’d thee to go! + + I recollect with other things, + Which I have felt and fear’d, + Once something like the sound of wings, + Within the room was heard! + + Hast thou in infant vision seen + The city of our God? + Or on those holy mountains been, + By saints and angels trod? + + Or hast thou heard the melody + Which fills the courts above? + Or has thy Saviour shown to thee + The tokens of his love? + + If so,—no wonder thou should’st look + So light on all below;— + If thou hast tasted of the brook + Where living waters flow! + + No wonder thou with such delight, + Didst view the rising sun: + Then glance on us thine eye so bright, + And flutter to be gone! + + If thou hast seen among heaven’s choirs, + The crown that thou shalt wear, + Forgive a parent’s fond desires, + To keep thee longer here. + + If thou among earth’s griefs and joys, + Hadst any longer stayed, + With other rude and wicked boys, + Hadst into evil strayed;— + + Hadst thou thy Saviour disobey’d, + Who died thy soul to save, + Thy parents’ heads might have been laid, + With sorrow in the grave. + + If it be wrong to mourn for thee, + The Lord that wrong forgive, + And grant us grace each day, that we + In him may walk and live. + + O could our faith but pierce the gloom + That hovers round our clay, + We might prefer an early tomb, + To one that’s old and grey! + + Could we but hear the songs they sing, + Or see the robes they wear, + ’Twould give our resolutions wing, + With longings to be there. + + To see those heavenly harpers young, + Light up the sacred fires; + To see their nimble fingers run + Along the golden wires; + + Would make a man forget his grief, + His conflicts here below, + And give a mother’s soul relief, + With languishings to go! + + Would make us all forsake our sin, + And Jesus Christ adore, + And bring the resolution in, + To grieve our God no more. + + Would make us to His house resort, + To weep, and watch, and pray, + Until we gain that blissful port + Where tears are wiped away. + + + + +ON THE FIRST TEXT HEARD SPIRITUALLY. + + (“My heart is fixed.”—Psalm lvii. 7.) + + + By grace divine I sing, “My heart is fix’d!” + (Fix’d on the corner stone in Zion laid:) + He spoke, I wept, and heard the blessed text, + And all my wavering, wandering thoughts were stay’d. + + He to me spoke, as with an angel’s voice, + And all my fears at once like lightning fled! + O how my troubled soul did then rejoice! + I was as one new risen from the dead! + + Thrice happy bard who wrote such words as these, + So applicable to a case like mine; + Such music surely never reach’d my ears, + Nor words did ever with such lustre shine! + + Though all who read, may not that beauty see, + Nor feel the truths that sin sick hearts console, + Yet, O, it was a blessed text to me, + By which the Lord spoke peace unto my soul! + + ’Tis mystery all! ’Tis like the wind that blows! + I hear its sound, as it sweeps through the wood, + I feel it come, but know not where it goes,— + And so is every one that’s born of God! + + Now I can sing, “My soul is sick of love!”— + Of love to God, and every one I see; + Nor smiles, nor frowns, my happy soul can move, + A friend or stranger is alike to me! + + But will the Lord such rebels still receive? + Can angels sing for such a wretch as I? + Did Jesus die, that one so vile might live? + So vile, so full of sin and misery! + + Yes! He the sinner doth invite to come; + For rich, for poor, for all his grace is free! + Fly, sinners, fly to Christ, there yet is room + For all who feel their guilt and misery. + + The King is now my Friend, I cannot doubt, + For he His witness doth to me impart; + He’ll bind the strong man arm’d, and cast him out, + And pour the living stream into my heart! + + O happy soul, when thus to life restor’d, + Let folly end, where genuine hope begins; + He finds a heaven, who truly finds the Lord, + But he that finds this heaven, must lose his sins! + + O may I learn to do the thing that’s right, + My love to God, by true obedience show; + And read, and wrestle, strive, rebuke, and fight, + And watch, and pray, and to perfection grow! + + So when my warfare here on earth is past, + And Death on me his chilling hand shall lay, + God will receive my ransom’d soul at last, + To live and reign with Him, in endless day! + + + + +TO A SQUIRREL IN A CAGE. + + + Little spinner, blithe and gay, + Dancing thus thy life away! + A King his palace might resign, + For a couch as soft as thine! + + Thou canst choose, as suits thee best, + When to toil, and when to rest: + Free from earthly care and strife, + Merrily doth pass thy life. + + Ere the day begins to dawn, + Thou art at thy work alone; + By the early riser seen, + Turning round thy light machine. + + Quick thou tip’st the slender wires, + Which more art than strength requires;— + Be the weather foul or fair, + Heart and foot are light as air! + + Joyful in thy little jail, + Thou dost spread thy bushy tail: + Playing many a curious prank, + Tumbling like a mountebank! + + When awful thunders o’er thee break, + And earth’s foundations seem to shake, + Free from terror and dismay, + Thou heed’st it not, but spin’st away. + + Separated now for good, + From thy cronies of the wood, + Thou no more dost wander free, + Skipping light from tree to tree. + + Though once with thee things better went, + Thou seemest happy and content, + If some kind friend supply thy lack, + By giving thee a nut to crack. + + And when thou hast it in thy paw, + In face of either friend or foe, + The beamings of thine eye impart + The motions of a grateful heart. + + Alone, confin’d within thy cage, + Thou fearest not the battle’s rage; + Of courage bold, and action brave, + Though in prison—thou’rt not a slave! + + If life is spared, some other day, + When I shall chance to come this way, + A present unto thee I’ll bring, + Thou bonny, little woodland thing! + + Little spinner, blithe and gay, + Dancing thus thy life away! + A Queen her palace might resign, + For a pillow soft as thine! + + + + +TO A BIRD SINGING IN WINTER. + + + Why, why, little bird, so cheerfully sing, + When all things around look so sad? + The prospect at present, as touching the spring, + Gives cause to be sorry, not glad! + + Had April appear’d in loveliest hue, + And made the green meadows look gay, + Thou merrily might’st have mounted thy bough, + And warbled thy minutes away. + + But summer’s far off, and still in the copse, + The cold winter’s snow doth descend, + Fierce winds, and sharp frosts, may yet blast thy hopes, + And bring thy sweet song to an end. + + By craft of the boys, in bush, or in wood, + Thy foot may be caught in a snare, + And thou whilst seeking a morsel of food, + Be a captive, ere thou art aware. + + Why merrily sing, when thou hast no barn, + In which to lay up thy grain? + Why warble thy notes, while unthankful man, + So often is heard to complain? + + Why cheerfully sing when there are no flowers, + Or sun in the valley to shine? + ’Tis proof that thy prospects are brighter than ours, + Thy heart more contented than mine! + + + + +PETCH’S ELEGY! + + + How short, how frail is our abode on earth! + But yesterday it seems since we sprang forth: + Life doth no sooner sparkle in our eye, + Than we are subject to decline and die! + + A brother Mason now a victim lies + To Death, whose icy hand hath closed his eyes! + He sleeps, forgetful of his toil and care; + In prime of life, no more his voice we hear. + + No more the chisel moves within his hands, + The sounding axe no more his skill demands: + But silence reigns,—his spirit’s gone to rest, + His ransom’d soul is number’d with the blest! + + His sins and follies here he did bemoan, + A heavy burden, grievous to be borne; + When lo, the Lord, a week before he died, + Dispers’d the gloom, and all his wants supplied + + In the Redeemer’s blood he did believe, + And God his pardoning love to him did give: + Such depth of mercy fill’d us with surprise, + And tears of gratitude flow’d from our eyes! + + He boldly triumph’d in God’s pardoning grace, + With love and patience beaming in his face; + Till fainting in the icy arms of death, + He praised his God with his departing breath + + How oft have we in health, and free from pain, + Joyful to labour, cross’d the dewy plain, + Before the morning stars had disappear’d, + Or early harmony the woodlands cheer’d! + + How oft have we been partners through the day, + Or sung in hymns our nightly hours away! + Alas! my partner’s gone! Can I forbear + To welcome down my cheek the rolling tear? + + No more on earth his voice shall mix with mine, + In social converse, or in songs divine! + Be it my chief concern to be prepar’d, + Like him to die, and meet my just reward. + + False witnesses did raise a vile report, + And laid things to his charge that he knew not: + But now he’s gone to be with Christ on high, + Where he is safe, and may their power defy. + + Now slander and reproach at once may cease; + No more can they disturb our brother’s peace! + Their arrows keen can never pierce his soul, + He is departed, and hath reach’d the goal! + + Farewell! but Oh! we hope to meet again, + And join our voices in a nobler strain, + Where Jesus our great Prophet, Priest, and King, + In everlasting majesty doth reign! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON PETCH’S TOMB. + + + Dear Petch belov’d! Thy endless portion’s fix’d! + As death hath left thee, so shall judgment find: + Thy spirit, with a world of spirits mix’d, + Hath left its mouldering tenement behind! + + Sprightly and active, thou the other day, + Didst fill thy station in this world of cares; + In life’s fair morn, thy soul hath slipt away, + From its delusions, and a thousand snares! + + Thy cheeks a more than common bloom did wear, + Thy voice with music sweetly did agree; + Thy heart was lively, thy complexion fair:— + Had I chose one for life, I’d chosen thee! + + Perhaps thy mind dwelt on some future scene, + Anticipating more than was allow’d, + When pale affliction drew a veil between, + And death appointed thee an early shroud! + + Methinks I hear thee, while I thus survey + The dreary place where thy remains are laid, + Crying, “Prepare for the great judgment day! + That day which shall thy destiny decide! + + There’s no repenting in the gloomy grave, + Nor in that world in which I now exist; + Christ died, that he from hell thy soul might save,— + Keep his commands, or thou wilt ne’er be blest!” + + Here I should faint, reflecting on my theme, + And recollecting thy great sins now past, + Had not the grace of God, thy passport been, + Had not heaven deign’d to smile on thee at last! + + Hadst thou not given some proof of penitence, + Had I not witness’d oft the bless’d effect, + I might have fear’d, through disobedience, + That Heaven for ever would thy soul reject. + + But Oh, the saving power of grace divine, + Which reach’d the dying thief upon the cross, + Had visited that troubled soul of thine, + Which else had mourn’d its everlasting loss! + + Disrob’d of all his terrors, Death drew nigh,— + Behind, a band of shining seraphs stood, + He pointed toward the opening sky, + And dipt his dart in the atoning blood! + + His humble victim felt the stingless wound, + And to his God resign’d his fleeting breath; + He view’d Heav’ns portals through the gloom around, + And shouted “Victory!” in the arms of Death! + + Go, blooming youth, and share the rich reward, + Purchas’d for such as thee with blood divine; + Thank God, He ever did thy prayer regard, + And caus’d the light of life on thee to shine! + + May all the household of thy kindred dear, + Hear and regard the caution thou hast given; + Repent, and turn to God, with hearts sincere, + And have, like thee, the earnest of their Heaven! + + May I amidst a world of toil and care, + Still bear in mind my Shepherd’s care for me, + Weep o’er my sin, each day for death prepare, + Sigh o’er thy name-stamp’d tool, and think on thee! + + + + +“WHO HATH BELIEVED OUR REPORT?” + + Isaiah liii. 1. + + + “Who hath believed our report?” + The agonizing prophet cried; + Where do the wandering tribes resort, + For whom the King of Glory died? + + His goodness doth before them pass, + The fairest of ten thousand He, + Yet sin bewilders, and alas, + In Him they can no beauty see. + + His Kingly presence they deny, + While round their altars they resort, + Well might the grieved prophet cry, + “Who hath believed our report?” + + “Away with such a one,” they cry, + “Let timbrels sound, and damsels sing, + This strange impostor crucify, + For none but Cæsar is our King!” + + Slain in the streets the martyrs lie, + Who strove His kingdom to support, + Well might the trembling prophet cry, + “Who hath believed our report?” + + His ministers to make Him known, + Their time, and strength, and souls devote, + Yet oft in sorrow cry alone, + “Who hath believed our report?” + + All we like sheep have gone astray, + From Him we have our faces hid, + We each have turn’d to his own way, + And done the things that were forbid. + + His faithful servants all day long, + Do to repentance us exhort, + Yet nightly raise the mournful song, + “Who hath believed our report?” + + It was for us He was accused, + Sank under sorrows not His own, + Was buffeted, chastis’d, and bruis’d, + To raise us rebels to a throne. + + The nails, the hammer, and the spear, + And reed, with which His head was smote, + All cry in the deaf sinner’s ear, + “Who hath believed our report?” + + Yes! both the pulpit and the press, + The thunder of His power proclaim, + Commend His blood and righteousness, + And offer mercy in His name. + + Yet some are always standing by, + Of holy things to make a sport, + And weeping preachers yet may cry, + “Who hath believed our report?” + + Some have believed this report,— + To them He hath “His arm reveal’d;” + To Him their lives they now devote, + For “by His stripes their souls are heal’d!” + + And on the last important day, + When all shall be to judgment brought, + Thrice happy those who then can say, + We have believed this report. + + But woe to all ungodly men, + Who wonder how these things can be; + They’ll wonder more, and perish then,— + Too late they will their folly see. + + For them, alas, no joys remain, + The Lord of life will cut them short; + And they shall weep and wish in vain, + They had believed our report! + + + + +THE BEES + + + The Sun throws his ray on the lake, + The vessels are scudding along; + Before half the city’s awake, + The air is all action and song! + + The Bees haste away to the moors, + And eager their task to complete, + Extract from the bells of the flowers, + Their delicate essences sweet. + + All cheerful they hurry along, + Their storehouse of food to increase, + Till Death puts an end to their song, + The citizen’s table to grace. + + Though few can their weapons withstand, + Or few can their forces defeat, + Yet Death with a torch at command, + Soon makes the wing’d armies retreat. + + At once their anxiety droops, + In the grave they lie silent and still, + While strangers are draining the cup, + They made such exertions to fill. + + O may I be bold as the Bee, + In work of a similar cast, + So faithful, industrious, and free, + And labour, and sing to the last! + + + + +CAUTION FROM LIMBER HILL. + + (_Occasioned by a fall during a frost._) + + + ’Twas a bit gone December, + As I well remember, + I met with a rubber, and got some advice; + What harbour to rest in, + What Friend to put trust in, + And how we may walk with slape shoes upon ice! + + In coming down Limber, + Among the young timber, + My foot slipt, and falling, it was a take in, + The night being darkish, + And we a bit larkish, + Instead of a broom bush, I grasped a whin! + + When my fingers were bleeding, + And pain was succeeding, + It set me a thinking,—of that you’ll not doubt; + And but for the blunder, + Which lessen’d the wonder, + I else had been punish’d enough to sing out! + + My views being muddy, + I quickly did study, + What things upon earth to compare with this whin; + After walking around ’em, + I very soon found ’em + To be a false friend, or the pleasures of sin! + + A true Friend is precious, + His favour’s delicious, + He’ll give you a lift, when he sees you break down; + In conflicts distressing, + You’ll find him a blessing, + He’ll mark your oppressions, and call them his own! + + But a false Friend will vary, + And vow quite contrary, + His heart to your grief will be hard as a stone; + In sorrow or sickness, + He’ll pity your weakness, + But only plant under your pillow a thorn! + + While your money is chinking, + He’ll answer you winking, + He’ll “_Master_,” and “_Sir_” you, and come at your call; + But give him a pincher, + You’ll find him a flincher, + Instead of a lift, he will fling you a fall! + + So sin is deceiving, + Bewitching, bereaving; + ’Twill pierce through the heart, and invite you to sing; + ’Twill put on fair faces, + To woo your embraces, + But after you’ve grasp’d it, there follows a sting! + + + + +THE VILLAGE CHURCH IN RUINS! + + (_A decayed Church, a faithful Minister, a Gospel Sermon, a + cold wind, a rainy day, and ten hearers!_) + + + Alas, for our mother, whom age hath o’ertaken, + Her champions are sleeping beneath the cold sod; + She seems both by lover and friend quite forsaken, + Her total dependance is now on her God! + + By tribute to Cæsar her battlements crumble, + Her grey headed Elders may weep in despair; + Her once lovely fabric’s now ready to tumble, + While no one arises her breach to repair! + + Alas, for the spot where our ancestors bended, + In humble devotion, and brotherly love, + Where early petitions like incense ascended, + And blessings in answer came down from above. + + Alas, for that spot where our tribes did assemble, + In youthful succession, both healthy and gay, + Which then did the Temple of Zion resemble,— + But briers and thorns have now choked up the way. + + The voice of her Elders in prayer seems to falter, + And her bells ring dolefully over her dead, + Her priest may lament from the porch to the altar, + Her pews are deserted, her virgins are fled. + + Among her old timber, the hollow winds whistle, + And carve out a track for the frost or the snow; + Her walls, while they preach her departing epistle, + Are cover’d with gloom, both above and below. + + Dim through her old windows the daylight is peeping, + The damp floor hath driven the hearers away; + A drop through the roof seems as if it were weeping, + To think how her beauty is gone to decay. + + Of her milk and her honey she still might have boasted, + And offer’d to all in abundance, and free, + But her funds by the drones are now nearly exhausted, + In craftily clipping the wings of the Bee. + + Still thanks be to God, the Gospel is publish’d, + With precept on precept, and line upon line; + Still Ten there are found, who come to be furnish’d, + With heav’nly instruction, in lectures divine. + + The Minister boldly the tidings reported, + And wisely distinguish’d the bad from the good; + Of the present or absent who die unconverted, + That worm eaten pulpit is clear of their blood! + + + + +POETICAL REFLECTIONS. + + (_Composed during a visit from the West._) + + + Once more, my muse, resume thy wonted seat, + And ask permission of the wise and great, + To admit, as tribute due, thy warbling song, + In thy own land, and in thy mother tongue. + + Once more the happy region I behold, + Where I have oft experienc’d joys untold; + Where cattle graze, and crystal fountains flow, + And rivers glide, and healthy breezes blow. + + Here my enraptur’d fancy playful roves, + And walks ’mong flowery banks, or shady groves, + Or nimbly climbs the rugged mountain’s height, + And views yon plains with ever new delight. + + Sometimes in fertile orchards I attend, + Where mellow fruits the loaded branches bend; + Sometimes I see old Esk in fury roll, + Or fish, or walk, or swim the silent pool. + + Here did I spend the morning of my days, + And learn’d by grace, to walk in wisdom’s ways, + Its scenes can court my soul’s affections yet, + Their charms are such they cannot be forgot. + + O yes, the cottage once again I see, + Which oft has prov’d a safe retreat for me, + From wintry tempest, or my neighbour’s frown, + From piercing frost, or scorching sun at noon: + + Its walls my castle, and its roof a guard, + As from the cloud the forked lightning glared. + Here did I notice first with wond’ring eye, + The rainbow’s beauty, and the bright blue sky;— + + The morning sun, or the pale evening star, + The moon’s eclipse, or comet’s sign of war! + Here oft our little tribe have muster’d up, + And from each eye have wiped the crystal drop;— + + Each other cheer’d when dark misfortune frown’d, + As we our little fire have circled round! + What each had read, or heard in times before, + Each eager open’d out his little store;— + + Of fairy stories, stormy seas, or sands, + Rocks, woods, or caves, or dens in foreign lands, + Enchanted castles, weapons, sceptres, crowns, + Of friars, giants, hermits, smiles and frowns! + + Thus oft our lonely evenings pass’d away, + Till glad we welcom’d in the morning ray;— + Ours might have been the cottage of content, + But we an absent Father did lament. + + Now wide dispers’d whom nature so endear’d, + No evening song, no conversation’s heard! + The garden walls we did so often climb, + Are desolated by the hand of time! + + Oft on yon sunny bank our feet have been, + Or skimm’d the frozen pond upon the green; + Where I may wander now, and sigh alone, + O’er pleasures past, and never to return! + + O Land belov’d! Thou still art dear to me! + I still behold a comeliness in thee, + Which to express I cannot language find, + Nor vent the deep emotions of my mind! + + Though transient joys have ta’en their lasting flight, + In thee I see a permanent delight,— + A secret sympathy I can’t express, + Which seems to feed the flame of happiness! + + But what is best of all, religion thrives, + The desert sings, the work of God revives! + Cold, frozen hearts have felt the melting flame + Of Jesu’s love, and spread abroad the same! + + Sing on, ye tribes, sweet peace ye may secure, + Your wants supplied from field and fountain pure; + Live, and enjoy your privilege great, + Nor ever more forget the mercy seat! + + No midnight revels here your door molest, + Nor wild confusion robs you of your rest; + Here you in silence may your eyelids close,— + On downy pillows find a sweet repose! + + Here broad back’d mountains raise their heads immense, + And rocky bulwarks rise for your defence, + Whose silent caves present sublimer charms, + Than the shrill trumpet, or than war’s alarms. + + O happy man, who safe from winter’s frown, + Lies anchor’d in a harbour of his own; + He whose chief treasure is a humble mind, + By truth enlighten’d and by grace refined! + + Who suffers not his flock to go astray, + But early learns his tribes to sing and pray; + Though he but little knows of men and things, + Yet having this he needs not envy Kings! + + Bend, O ye kings! and at God’s altar bow,— + Your God hath left a brighter throne for you; + And costlier robes than yours He laid aside, + And in your stead, He suffer’d, bled, and died! + + Be not deceiv’d, ye all must stoop as low + As a poor beggar, Jesu’s love to know: + The beggar, or the king, that throne to gain, + Must know what’s meant by being “born again!” + + The number of the faithful, Lord, increase, + And fill their habitations with thy peace; + That all may know, e’en husband, child, and wife, + The benefits of a religious life. + + O still ride on, thou mighty matchless King, + Till all thy favour feel, and praises sing;— + Thy favour, which alone true joy imparts, + Is thy law written on thy people’s hearts. + + By thine omnipotence o’ercome thy foes, + And make them dread thy name, and own thy laws; + O let not sin for ever them deceive, + But spare them breath to pray, repent, and live! + + O may my scatter’d tribe thy voice attend, + And with thy ransom’d few their voices blend: + I long to see them with their names enroll’d + Among thy people, in thine earthly fold. + + O God, ’tis thine, I leave the cause with Thee, + To give them ears to hear, and eyes to see, + And hearts to feel;—apply the sprinkled blood, + And purify, and make them sons of God! + + The ties of Friendship cling around my heart, + While I from much lov’d scenes am forced to part, + And leave the beauties of my native home, + With weary step, far o’er yon hills to roam. + + O may I gain a seat on Zion’s hill, + Where I no more shall bid my friends farewell; + Nor mix with parting tears the morning dew, + Nor drop my pen, nor sigh my last adieu! + + + + +THE TWO HOURS’ TASK! + + (_A congratulatory Address to the Lambs, on their appearance in + Spring._) + + + Welcome, little peaceful strangers, + To your fields and pastures green, + Fearless of surrounding dangers, + Since no dangers you have seen. + + While the sun is on you beaming, + That you may new strength receive, + Sweet new milk is for you streaming, + That you may partake and live. + + Spring, with all her charms, invites you, + Now to taste the tender blade; + Birds are singing to delight you, + Whether in the sun or shade. + + Nature has with gladness crown’d you, + Woodlands echo at your birth, + Spreads a flowery carpet round you, + Bids you walk in freedom forth. + + But beware of your destroyer, + Crafty Reynard stalks the plains, + To your shepherd cleave then closer, + Or he’ll drain your little veins. + + In your merry evening gambols, + Of surrounding foes beware, + Also in your distant rambles, + See you wander not too far. + + Fell destruction round you hovers, + Therefore caution don’t despise, + Croaking ravens wait in numbers, + To pick out your little eyes. + + Go not forth without your shepherd, + Be not lifted up with pride, + For if peaceful you would slumber, + You must never leave his side. + + Till your strength is perfected, + Keep within your master’s ground, + You shall never be neglected, + If you thus are faithful found. + + See yon lamb that now is bleating, + Him misfortune calls its own; + And mark’d out an early victim, + From the flock he strays alone. + + See the little lonely mourner, + Like a bull-rush hangs his head, + Seeks a solitary corner, + And refuses to be fed. + + Life to him appears a burden, + This his wailings testify, + Earth no pleasures can afford him, + He will shortly droop and die. + + Ere he drink the crystal fountain, + Ere he dance the flowery plain, + Ere he bleat on yonder mountain, + He returns to earth again. + + Emblem of that happy infant + Which was born the other day, + But before it knew bereavement, + From the earth was call’d away. + + Call’d to more delightful regions, + Ere he learn’d his mother tongue, + There to speak a purer language, + There to sing a sweeter song. + + On his Lord to wait attendant, + And to sing redeeming love, + Seated on a throne resplendent, + In a brighter world above. + + Cheerful lambs around us caper, + Woodland songsters hail the morn; + But frail man is doom’d to labour, + Weep, and sweat, and sigh, and mourn. + + Yet there is a higher station, + Man is born for nobler joys, + If he seeks and finds salvation, + He shall sing above the skies. + + Though he be a fallen creature, + Subject here to droop and die, + The “Lamb of God” can change his nature, + And take all his sins away! + + + + +THE COUNTRY BLUNDER! + + + Some lines which I have lately penn’d + May prove a caution to a friend; + Indeed as such they are intended, + And to my friends are recommended. + + But some, though caution’d night and morn, + Will not take heed, howe’er we warn, + But still to make their neighbours fun, + Will obstinately blunder on. + + A servant man in Glazedale glen, + Did lately shoot a fine pea-hen: + Taking her for a pheasant good, + Lately stray’d from the neighb’ring wood. + + But had he studied well the season, + He might have found sufficient reason, + To have convinc’d him, there and then, + ’Twas neither pheasant, cock nor hen! + + For is it common thus to see, + Where there is neither bush nor tree, + A pheasant pick, in open day?— + Much more upon the King’s highway? + + To view her well he did not fail, + Her rosy comb, and fine long tail, + And call’d her without more ado, + A pheasant,—and a fine one too! + + But beast, or bird, it makes no matter, + He takes his gun and jingles at her; + And ere that bird his mercy begs, + She tumbles down, with broken legs! + + He then did speedily run out, + And twin’d her slender neck about, + With pleasure sparkling in his eyes, + Thinking he’d got a famous prize! + + But one whose senses were awake, + Did soon point out his sad mistake; + His countenance did alter, when + He found it was a fine _pea-hen_! + + He thought his neighbours then would scoff, + And poets soon would take him off; + Too late he wish’d and strove in vain, + To bring his hen to life again! + + Ye poachers all, both young and old, + If you don’t think my pen too bold;— + Or may I say, kind gentlemen,— + Take warning by this same pea-hen! + + Mind well what creatures you abuse; + They all were given by God for use:— + Lest you should make your neighbours fun, + Look well before you point your gun! + + Or you by chance may shoot a horse;— + The other’s bad,—this would be worse: + Yet such a thing was lately done, + And by a badly managed gun! + + The thorns or thistles, stones or whins, + May prick your legs, or break your shins; + Yet those who’d buy instruction cheap, + Should always “look before they leap!” + + If still my counsel you disdain, + I may hereafter write again; + And should you not mind what you do, + I may inform of some of you! + + + + +A SINNER SAVED BY GRACE. + + + Come, fellow sinner, lend an ear, + And listen while I now declare + What God hath done for me; + His word hath broke my stony heart, + My soul hath felt the piercing smart, + Of guilt and misery! + + Long time I went about distress’d, + Nor day nor night could I find rest, + Till I his voice did hear, + Till I beheld Him on the Cross;— + My soul did then her burden lose, + And all its slavish fear! + + To Him who doth my foes controul, + I look’d and He hath heal’d my soul, + And all my sins forgiven: + Hence may I turn my feeble sight + To yonder realms of peace and light, + And live and die for Heaven! + + Oh hasten, sinners, to be wise; + While Jesu’s mercy loudly cries, + Do you salvation take;— + But if you’re stubborn to the last, + Then be assur’d you will be cast, + Into the burning lake! + + Say you, “Where shall we find the Lord, + According to his Holy Word, + To heal our wounded mind? + While some say here, and others there, + We long to see the temple where + We may salvation find!” + + Wherever two or three are met, + Whose faces Zion ward are set, + He’s promis’d there to be; + O seek the Lord without delay, + And cry for mercy night and day, + Till you’re from sin set free! + + When you by grace are born again, + Then publish to the sons of men, + That you this path have trod; + That others may for mercy cry, + And saints may lift their voices high, + And glorify their God! + + + + +THE PORTION OF THE JUST. + + + How blessed a thing Hallelujah to sing, + When time shall with us be no more:— + At the Judge’s right hand all the faithful shall stand, + His goodness to see and adore! + + In that heavenly place in the light of his face, + They in mansions of glory shall dwell; + No more the big tear on their face shall appear, + For to sorrow they’ve bid a Farewell! + + Above and below rich clusters do grow, + Of the grapes of that Canaan so pure; + His welcome so sweet makes the banquet complete, + And they sing of His mercy secure! + + Death vanquish’d, they sing, and spoil’d of his sting, + Of Hell conquer’d by Christ from above; + On the plains of delight with thousands in white, + They shall walk and converse of His love! + + But the wicked, alas, when their sentence shall pass, + Shall at once into darkness be driven, + Fierce pains to endure with spirits impure, + Who were hurl’d from their places in heaven! + + Oh, if thou dost crave above all things to have + A seat with thy Saviour divine, + No longer delay, nor rest night nor day, + Till a scriptural title is thine! + + + + +THE HAPPY CHOICE! + + + Jesus! thy name to me hath charms, + Outvieing all beneath the sun; + Thy secret love my bosom warms, + And in my soul ’tis heav’n begun! + + No peace like that thy presence brings, + No joys like those thou dost impart; + Anon, with healing in thy wings, + Thou com’st to heal the broken heart! + + Thy footsteps may I always see, + Under thy shadow may I dwell! + I give my life, my all to thee, + And triumph o’er the powers of Hell! + + Thou dost my soul with rapture fill, + No more for mammon I contend; + I glory in the joys I feel, + While thou dost comfort and defend! + + O let thy name be always sweet + As honey, from the rock, that flows; + So shall I gladly turn my feet, + Where’er my blessed Master goes! + + + + +ON THE DEATH OF JOHN MORLEY. + + + “Heard you that groan? ’Twas from a dying man! + A man just gone into Eternity!” + “Redeem thy time! Thy life is but a span!” + That language,—Hark! It speaks to you and me! + + A man of health, and strength, and spirits gay, + The solemn call seem’d distant to his view; + But, lo, how soon the victim’s snatch’d away + By Death’s rude hand, and bids the world adieu! + + Fearless of danger, he, twelve days before, + Went to the field to share the common lot, + With the sharp scythe to cut the grass or flower, + But, ah, the secret lesson he forgot! + + “_All flesh_ is grass, or like the flowery field, + So soon ’tis faded, wither’d, or cut down; + To time’s embrace its charms are forc’d to yield, + The winds pass over it, and it is gone!” + + When heated by the sun’s meridian ray, + And parch’d with thirst, to drink he felt inclin’d, + Dropping his scythe, poor Morley took his way, + In hopes some cool, refreshing stream to find! + + To yonder river to receive his death, + With sweat, like dewdrops, hanging on his brow, + He hastes—nor thinks he must resign his breath, + And to the lonely church-yard shortly go! + + Thus bathed in sweat the river’s bank he gains, + And drinks, and washes in the crystal flood; + When lo! an icy coldness chills his veins, + Affects his senses, and inflames his blood! + + He medical assistance quickly sought, + Excessive pain depriv’d his eyes of sleep; + Physicians soon their powerful medicines brought, + But ah! the fatal dart had pierc’d too deep! + + The fever rages, not a limb is free, + It mocks the power of remedies applied; + Friends weep, and wish for his recovery;— + Alas! their warmest wishes are denied. + + His fate seems hard, but yet Heav’n sees it fit, + And Heaven’s will is best, we must agree;— + Sooner or later we must all submit + To Death’s loud call,—to nature’s stern decree! + + The surgeon blushes while his patient bleeds, + All hope soon vanishes of life below; + With hasty step the monster Death proceeds, + Lifts his fell dart, and strikes the fatal blow! + + His wife distracted doth her loss deplore, + His children weep as though their hearts would break; + They shrieking cry, “Our father is no more! + O where shall we our lonely refuge seek? + + Where shall we find so true, so kind a friend? + Where shall we find a sharer in our grief? + Where shall we find a Father to attend,— + To wipe our tears, or point us to relief?” + + O haste! O haste! the house of prayer attend, + And plead your cause, bow’d at your Saviour’s feet; + To Heaven daily let your prayers ascend, + And there a Friend, and Father you shall meet! + + Poor Morley’s dead! the startled village cries! + His wife, a widow, has in tears to grieve! + While he, outstretched, now pale and silent lies, + Nor tongue, nor eye, nor hand a motion give! + + No more his whistle echo’s through the grove, + Nor clashing gates pursue his loaded steed; + No more he through the fields doth rove, + To play the flute, or blow the rustic reed! + + No more the rolling flood’s at his controul, + Nor willing servant runs when he shall bid; + But mournfully I hear the death bell toll, + To hail him welcome to his lonely bed! + + But Oh, the soul! That ever during spark, + Kindled in him by the Almighty’s breath, + Still lives, though we her passage cannot mark!— + She lives, though she hath pass’d the vale of death! + + Where has she fled? What is her portion now, + While I upon his death thus meditate? + ’Tis mystery this we mortals must not know,— + And cries, “Prepare ye, for a future state!” + + Her portion’s that for which she was prepar’d;— + Though suddenly remov’d from earth below, + No more can she reject her just reward, + She shares eternal happiness, or woe! + + To trace her flight might but insult her King, + Since He for guilty sinners once did bleed!— + The muse in silence drops her feeble wing, + Refusing any further to proceed! + + + + +THE SERVANT’S ADDRESS TO HIS MASTER; + + _On deriding him for becoming a Methodist!_ + + + Master, I beg you’ll pardon, while I speak, + The liberty I now presume to take; + And trust the brief apology you’ll hear, + Will please, if you will please to lend an ear. + + “Wilt thou forsake the Church?” did you not say? + “And strive to get to Heaven some nearer way? + A better way perhaps by you believ’d:— + But ’twill be well if you are not deceiv’d?” + + Deceiv’d, or not, we are resolv’d to go; + If Christ be with us, all is well we know! + He is our Leader, He marks out the way, + Inviting all to come, and none to stay! + + The Church, or doctrine, we’ve no cause to blame, + ’Tis to ourselves that we ascribe the shame! + The way to heav’n was certainly made plain, + When told to “run so that we might obtain.” + + Our prayers and praises were so faint and few, + We thought one day in seven would surely do, + To praise Him who is worthy of more praise, + Than our best powers are qualified to raise! + + Oft when we did approach the throne of grace, + Our hearts and thoughts were in some other place. + O shameful truth! And yet it is most true! + But conscience told us this would never do! + + The nearest way to Heaven that we can go, + Is cleaving close to Christ while here below; + ’Tis He that can our sinking footsteps stay, + And vain the man who seeks another way! + + The man who truly has this race begun, + Will see no time to stand, but strive to run; + The night is coming, and will soon be here, + He’ll therefore oft betake himself to prayer: + + Lest strength should fail, or he should grow luke-warm, + And his weak soul, the enemy disarm! + That Book declares, whose Author is “The Truth,” + The careless soul, “He’ll spew out of his mouth!” + + Hence, doth he see he must be cold or hot; + Must either have the Spirit of Christ, or not:— + If on examination he lacks this, + God’s Book declares that “he is none of His!” + + If not a child of God, a child of hell, + And dying thus, he must with devils dwell;— + And when his earthly hopes have taken flight, + Be then shut up in everlasting night! + + A sinner when he sees himself aright, + Sees that his brightest day is turned to night; + The things that once were his delight and joy, + Do all his fondest hopes at once destroy! + + God’s Book like Sinai’s mount to him appears, + Its sentences like thunder stun his ears! + He strives to soothe himself, but strives in vain, + Till God, to him the secret doth explain. + + He sees and feels the awful load of sin, + Nor can aught ease the grief that he is in, + Until he hears God’s cheering, still small voice, + Which calms his fears, and bids his soul rejoice! + + A man must know his sins on earth forgiven, + Or he’ll not read his title clear for Heaven; + If this you think too strong to be believ’d, + I’m sure, in death, that you will be deceiv’d! + + I am resolv’d a pilgrim now to be, + Let worldly men say what they will of me; + And through the grace of God, though Hell resist, + I’ll live and die a faithful Methodist! + + I see the pilgrim’s life is far the best, + Scorn’d by the world, but yet by Jesus blest! + When death shall come, the Heav’nly land in view, + In peace, I’ll bid this world of sin Adieu! + + + + +SABBATH MORNING MUSINGS. + + “_I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house + of the Lord._” Psalm. cxxii. 1. + + + How do I love thy courts, O Lord! + What glories they unfold: + The joys they do to me afford, + More precious are than gold! + + The very gates through which I pass, + Are beautiful to me! + What numbers here beneath the grass, + In silent slumber lie! + + While I approach this solemn ground, + My thoughts I will controul;— + The tolling bell, with mournful sound, + Affects my inmost soul! + + While musing o’er the silent dead, + What wonders do I see! + The very dust on which I tread, + Once liv’d, and mov’d like me! + + Here things mysterious I perceive, + Things which I can’t explain;— + Wak’d by that voice which Heav’n shall give, + This dust shall “rise again!” + + Then some to everlasting life, + Exultingly shall rise; + While some to everlasting death, + Shall go with weeping eyes! + + Such as we sow, that shall we reap; + The sowing time is now:— + O may I watch, and faithful, keep + My station at the plough! + + O what’s this world with all its joys, + But a delusive dream; + The dead, as speaking witnesses, + All testify the same. + + They preach in lectures loud and plain, + Though silent, cold, and deep; + They tell me, if the earth remain, + I soon like them shall sleep! + + They cry to all, “Repent, believe, + And you shall pardon’d be; + Unless that blessing you receive, + You’re lost eternally!” + + The dial faithful to its task, + The sun in yonder sky, + Both show to us without a mask, + How swift the moments fly! + + “Redeem thy time!” they seem to say, + “Thy life is but a span; + For what are three score years and ten? + And that’s the age of man!” + + Here on a level all are laid, + Here none the conquest have! + The robes that once the rich array’d, + Are tarnish’d by the grave! + + The cheek which blossom’d like the rose, + Has lost its lovely charms; + That beauteous form the lover chose, + Is clasp’d in Death’s cold arms. + + All earthly hopes, and earthly joys, + And prospects must decay;— + But they who serve their God aright, + Shall live in endless day! + + How wondrously the scene is chang’d! + How lovely they appear! + I view them in their state arrang’d, + With more delight than fear! + + Ah! once the scene was not so fair, + I scarce could read a stone! + But grace can conquer slavish fear,— + With joy I look thereon! + + The opening grave oft spoil’d the hinge, + On which my fancy play’d; + The skulls and bones would make me cringe, + While I their forms survey’d. + + Chill horror used to haunt my breast, + While sin therein remain’d;— + But Jesu’s name be ever blest, + I have his favour gain’d! + + ’Tis faith perfumes destruction’s breath, + Our Jesu’s strong to save; + ’Tis faith removes the sting of death, + The terrors of the grave! + + How oft have I in giddy maze, + This sacred passage trod! + Not thinking ’twas so pure a place, + Much less the house of God! + + His mercy doth preserve me still, + He doth not always chide; + But waits that all His love may feel, + Since he for all hath died. + + Behind some lofty pillar here, + In silence let me steal; + And tread His courts with humble fear, + And low before him kneel. + + With fearful, trembling, broken heart, + To him I lift mine eyes; + And wait till He his love impart, + And conscience bid me rise! + + Then will I praise Thee, O my God, + When in my heart it glows! + And gladly wait to hear thy Word, + And catch it as it flows! + + Then may I keep thy sabbaths pure, + And still thy house attend; + Until that sabbath shall commence, + Which never hath an end! + + + + +LINES ON LEAVING FRYUP, IN SEARCH OF WORK. + + + I’m sorry, Fryup! thee to leave, + But thou deniest what I crave, + Though I have ask’d with tears! + Oft have I drunk at thy pure rills, + And labour’d ’mongst thy moorland hills, + For many toilsome years! + + ’Twas oft to me a painful task, + Thine aid in time of need to ask, + So often sought before; + And many times my small demand, + Was torn, as with a trembling hand, + Reluctant from thy store! + + Oft have I rang’d thy verdant woods, + Where roses bursting from their buds, + Have struck my wondering eye! + And oft have I thy woodbines cropt:— + While from my hand the sweet flowers dropt, + I’ve thought,—I too must die! + + Here, with each morning’s early dawn, + I lov’d to walk the flowery lawn, + To hear thy warblers sing! + Or when at eve their songs were mute, + I’ve sooth’d my fancy with my flute, + And made thy woodlands ring! + + I’ve seen thy mountains clad with snow, + While shelter’d in the vale below, + ’Midst hospitable friends! + For all their kindnesses to me, + May Heav’n bless every family, + And make them full amends! + + But trade is now so dull and dead, + A man can hardly earn his bread, + In winter’s frost and snow: + So I must take my staff in hand, + And travel to some distant land, + Till here more plenty grow! + + I grieve to leave the Sunday School, + Where I with gratitude of soul, + Have taught with great delight, + The youthful, rising sons of men, + To steer safe past the gulf of sin, + By glorious gospel light. + + With men of understanding heart, + I always joy’d to act my part, + Where I may teach no more:— + Where I, myself have oft been taught, + And blessings gain’d beyond my thought, + From Heaven’s bounteous store! + + As when the sailor points the keel, + For ancient Greenland’s icy field, + So I my course must steer! + I need assistance at the helm, + Lest life’s rough sea should overwhelm + My soul,—no harbour near! + + For quicksands and contrary winds, + And enemies as well as friends, + I still expect to find: + There is a Friend who lives above, + To all who do His precepts love, + He proves both true and kind! + + To Him I will address my prayer; + My little bark unto His care, + With confidence I’ll trust! + A steady course, O may I steer, + And if to Him I prove sincere, + He’ll land me safe at last! + + + + +THE SWALLOW! + + (_On being deprived of her nest by some Sparrows._) + + + A Swallow one evening was sweeping along, + ’Mongst such as against her were spiteful, + An impudent Sparrow requested a song, + Affirming her voice was delightful! + The innocent Swallow consented, + But afterwards sadly repented; + For the nest she had been at such pains to erect, + She was soon from enjoying prevented! + + To the ridge of the barn they hurried along, + As fast as their feathers could speed them, + Where she tweedled and sung, in her African tongue, + Her favourite anthem on Freedom! + While she was this Sparrow amusing, + The rest were her labours abusing;— + They had taken possession both of garret and floor, + And were in her best chamber carousing! + + When the Sparrow beheld by the flood in her eye, + How much this bad treatment did grieve her, + With contempt in his manner he bade her good by + Nor pitied, nor tried to relieve her! + Still her sweet little song did not alter, + Her delicate voice did not falter; + But she tweedled and sung what was next to be done, + As though she alone was the faulter! + + Reproving the Sparrows she then seem’d to say, + “To you we are surely no strangers; + To pay you this visit, in crossing the sea,— + We encounter a great many dangers. + O Sparrows! why have you betray’d us? + ’Tis cruelty thus to invade us! + We bring summer with us, take nothing away, + O Sparrows! why have you betray’d us?” + + + + +A CALL TO THE CARELESS! + + + Awake! O ye sleepers, awake! + Or soon you will smart ’neath the rod! + Be thankful you’re not in the lake, + That burns with the anger of God! + + Your life as a vapour will prove, + Your days as a shadow will flee; + Then seek to have treasure above, + And struggle from sin to be free! + + O sinners! be honest and yield + To the Spirit of God when He strives; + Or you will be slain in the field, + When He with His army arrives! + + This Jesus shall conquer the world! + The proud and the lofty subdue! + With terrible banners unfurl’d, + Shall sift both believers and you:— + + The poor, not because he is poor, + Nor the rich for his riches regard; + But thoroughly purging His floor, + Appoint unto each his reward! + + Believers! who wish to be whole;— + A fountain long open hath been, + To wash out the spots of the soul,— + O hasten to wash and be clean! + + When sin shall experience its death, + Then you the grand secret shall know; + Shall Heaven enjoy upon Earth, + And be happy and useful below! + + + + +TO A HORSE, DYING ALONE! + + + Poor, hapless beast, thus left by all below, + Amongst the noblest of God’s creatures, thou, + Once free from pain, + Didst trip the plain; + But Oh! how much thy case is alter’d now! + + Thy groom and master seem to stand aloof! + Is it, because of thee they’ve had enough? + Is it respect, + Or sheer neglect, + That of their care thou hast no stronger proof? + + Perhaps they do not like to hear or see + Thy last deep groan, thy dying agony! + The grass upspurn’d, + Thine eye upturn’d, + Bespeak its weight to heedless passers by! + + That hoarse deep sigh, the sad effect of sin, + Proclaims the depth of agony within! + On man and beast, + Greatest and least, + Grim Death doth feed, and glad his victim win! + + The blue shade gathers on thy glassy eye, + So sternly fix’d upon the evening sky; + Once full of light, + Through darkest night, + It proved its master’s guide to home and family! + + Thy lovely form, once beauteous to behold, + For which thy master parted with his gold; + And this thy dappled hide, + Though once its owner’s pride, + Now for a thing of nought will soon be sold! + + That ear through which the slightest sound inspir’d + Vigour, when pressing business oft requir’d; + Already cold as clay, + Doth now inactive lay, + Nor startles at that gun which now is fired! + + Thy frolics and thy gambols now are past, + Thy last stage is run;—thou art dying fast: + Perhaps ere I, + At home shall be, + Thou unattended wilt have breath’d thy last! + + The stall is vacant where thou lov’dst to be, + The curb and saddle now are nought to thee! + The whip and spur, + Thou car’st not for, + But leav’st to others as thy legacy! + + While I string up my rhymes to make them chord, + And thus thy melancholy fate record, + Perhaps near thee, + In some old tree, + The lonely night bird sings thy funeral ode! + + +MORAL. + + Some while their cup is full can laugh at Death, + And light esteem that power which lends them breath; + But be that far, + As yon pale star, + From him who now its progress witnesseth! + + Did men but see how near is his approach, + They would with morning sun, or nightly torch, + Themselves prepare, + And search with care, + And strictly watch each avenue and porch! + + Nor would they rest, at business or in bed, + Till every foe was found, and captive led; + Till all the soul, + From stains most foul, + Was wash’d, or till the contrite tear was shed! + + A fountain from the mount of God doth flow, + For all who will take time and pains to go, + Whose healing stream, + Doth freely teem, + To wash polluted sinners white as snow! + + A soul thus wash’d shall joyful rise again, + By Death unscar’d, and on angelic wing, + Shall mount above, + To Him whose love + And power deprive the monster of his sting! + + + + +MUSINGS DURING AFFLICTION; + +OR + +THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS. + + “_He shall fly away as a dream._” (Job. xx. 8.) + + + While here I sit musing alone, + Not sharing the toils of the day, + My spirit doth inwardly groan, + At the symptoms I feel of decay. + + My care burden’d mind can’t be still, + Though the external fabric be maim’d; + Some part must be working the will + Of Him who that fabric hath framed. + + The merchant looks over his books, + And hopes well to finish the day; + So life hath some corners and nooks, + It might not be wrong to survey. + + If the morning of life we behold, + When all seems delightful and bright, + The rosebud doth scarcely unfold, + But ’tis gone as a dream of the night! + + If to youth our attention we turn, + When all is enchanting and free; + When very few know how to mourn, + And all things seem pleasant and gay. + + A something we sought in the fields,— + Alas! as oft sought it in vain! + The joys that such scenery yields, + Are such as we cannot retain. + + We sought in the meadows and groves, + In the woods, by the rivers and streams; + But all our vain hopes and our loves, + Were like wood to the furnace’s flames! + + The old pathway still puts us in mind, + Though its stones are forsaken and green, + Of youthful affections, so kind, + Though now scarce a vestige is seen! + + We long have been wandering abroad, + And have learn’d to sorrow and weep; + While some have been lost on the road, + And others have sunk in the deep! + + In the fire-side circle we sought, + But found by the glimmering light, + That soon as the shadows we caught; + They fled like a dream of the night! + + There were some whom we knew in the flesh, + Seem’d happy, and healthy, and strong; + But before they obtain’d their wish, + They, alas! in a moment were gone! + + ’Twas gloomy and dark at their end, + No light in their death did appear; + That happiness would them attend, + Was hoped—but hope turn’d to despair! + + Alas! how neglectful they lived, + How sad an example they set, + How many fair youths were deceiv’d, + Who are not yet free from the net! + + They surely had time to repent, + To weep, and to sorrow, and pray; + But time that should thus have been spent, + Was wantonly squander’d away. + + They quick were cut off at a stroke, + Were hurried away from our sight; + The bonds of their friendship all broke, + They fled like a dream of the night. + + Though long in the grave they have lain, + And long since have gone to decay, + Remembrance can raise them again, + As fresh as they were in life’s day. + + We remember the look of the face, + The language that glanc’d from the eye, + The cough, or the laugh, or some grace, + By which we their forms can descry. + + How short our acquaintance appears, + Our pleasures, how swift was their flight! + Before we could number their years, + They fled as a dream of the night! + + In manhood we sought it abroad, + And mix’d with the mirthful and gay, + When liberty lengthen’d the cord, + And tempted our feet far astray. + + Then away to the races and fairs, + When seasons and friends did invite; + To the shows, to the stalls, and their wares, + And to music and dancing at night! + + We sought it by land and by sea,— + Where’er we directed our eyes, + All said, “Pleasure is not in me! + My beauty is all a disguise!” + + O Happiness! where dost thou dwell? + O where shall we search with success? + From the court to the cottage or cell, + All seem the abodes of distress! + + Oft have we reflected with pain, + And fancied while counting the cost, + If restor’d to childhood again, + We’d recover the thing we had lost. + + Then happiness seem’d to be ours,— + We roved by the river or glen; + The birds, and the bushes, and flowers, + Appear’d as a paradise then! + + Yon hill, and the stone on the plain, + Remind us whenever we pass, + Where we in a fairy-like train, + Have scamper’d about on the grass! + + Gone by are our childhood and youth, + And gone is each transient delight; + They told us,—who told us the truth,— + They’d pass as a dream of the night. + + By the faithful discourse of a friend, + We were told, whether cloudy or bright, + This life, long or short, in the end, + Would depart as a dream of the night:— + + That in vain among shadows and flowers, + We sought satisfaction within; + True pleasure could never be ours, + Till the heart had been broken for sin + + The heart, until such was the case, + Was so puff’d up with pride and deceit, + That no matter how splendid the feast, + That root bitter’d every thing sweet! + + He would prove by the sacred page, + And by men of experience too, + It had been so in every age, + And continues so, even till now! + + Until sin was expos’d to the light, + In the glass of the Gospel was view’d, + We could not enjoy true delight,— + Till the heart had been chang’d and renew’d. + + Nor need we now ask any more, + Why a thing which so many pursue, + And to gain will all things explore, + Should be truly possess’d by so few. + + In all earth’s extensive domain, + ’Midst all the sweet breezes that blow, + In mountain, or forest, or plain, + Where Eden like luxuries grow;— + + Amid all the fair branches and free, + Inviting their clusters to share, + One tree, and only one tree, + This heav’nly manna will bear. + + That tree of celestial seed, + By heav’nly culture doth rise;— + That man from his sins might be freed, + ’Twas sent as a gift from the skies! + + But many the tree did deride, + And oft of its fruit did complain, + Since to gain it they often had tried, + But return’d to their folly again! + + They made it a matter of doubt, + That it had been planted for them:— + Repentance, and Faith were the root, + And Holiness grew on the stem! + + Some as they pass’d by gave a glance, + Made remark on the wilderness bare; + And affirm’d with eye all askance, + No semblance of beauty was there. + + Though to plant it the Saviour of men + Hath sorrow’d, and suffer’d, and bled; + And His Spirit pour’d out as a stream, + Hath His heav’nly influence shed. + + You see, when the secret is told, + And the riddle’s expounded to all, + It was planted in Eden of old, + But had been torn up by the fall! + + So Christ hath in love to His church, + Thus rear’d this plant of renown, + To screen when the sun’s rays might scorch, + And to cheer when our spirits are down. + + Whoe’er of its produce partakes, + Whatever objections arise, + Through the Cross, and the choice that he makes, + Shall be holy, and happy, and wise! + + Then we to His temple shall run, + And worship with joy and delight; + Our trials while under the sun, + Will pass as a dream of the night! + + + + +THE PLAY! + + On being solicited to attend a Theatre, by two young women, who + urged their entreaties by the argument, “There is no harm in + attending the Play!” + + + Ye daughters of Albion’s flourishing isle, + Come listen awhile to my lay; + Defending your morals, you say with a smile, + “There’s no harm in attending the Play!” + + Ye Theatre gallants, and deep witted men, + Whose counsels so many obey, + Come lend a poor ignorant rustic a pen, + And he’ll help you to plead for the Play! + + If you are not immortal, but end when you die, + As some have the courage to say, + Why need you look out for a mansion on high, + You’ve nothing to fear from the Play! + + If you are immortal, yet free from the fall, + And never have wander’d astray; + If you have no sin to repent of at all, + You’ve nothing to fear from the Play! + + If Christ in His word, has left no command, + For people to watch and to pray, + If an house cannot fall that is built on the sand, + There’s no harm in attending the Play! + + Not calling in question your baptismal vow, + If life’s like a long summer’s day, + And you have not to reap such fruit as ye sow, + There’s no harm in attending the Play! + + If the Christian’s creed from the truth be reverse, + And the fair crown of life can decay; + If the Bible be false, and Religion a farce, + There’s no harm in attending the Play! + + Should a visit from Death come and put you in mind + Of your frail habitation of clay, + You may try to obstruct the unwelcome design, + With the transient delights of the Play! + + If a faithful reproof you should happen to meet, + You can soon turn your faces away, + And pass by the blind and the lame in the street, + And carry your cash to the Play! + + But if Parsons themselves so often attend, + Then surely their followers may; + And no wonder that they so well can defend, + The moral effects of the Play. + + If Wesley and Whitfield have pleaded in vain, + And led their disciples astray; + Let Simpson and Hervey in silence remain, + You’ve nothing to fear from the Play. + + If you of your time have to give no account, + At the last, the great Judgment day, + The troubles of life you may quickly surmount, + By clapping them off at the Play. + + If safe ’midst seduction and ruin you roam, + You may laugh at the stoppers away, + Who sit pining and pulling long faces at home, + And are missing the joys of the Play. + + Should the roof be crush’d in, and you kill’d we’ll suppose, + Why some angel would bear you away, + To some distant region of milder repose, + Where your spirit might dream of the Play. + + Having no tribulation, no robe wash’d in blood, + Nor tears that need wiping away, + You might sing in those realms to the praise of your god, + How oft you had been at the Play. + + + + +THE REMOTE CHRISTIAN. + + + Deep in a glen, remote and wild, + And far from affluence, + A cottage stood, and heaven smil’d, + Upon that residence. + + A couple liv’d there many years, + In love and unity; + Who careful in this vale of tears, + Had rear’d a family. + + No costly goods their cot adorn, + No shining liveries wait; + For them no huntsman sounds his horn, + No carriage at the gate. + + A simple, honest peasant, free, + Not with much learning stored; + Though thus remote, yet happily, + Had sought and found the Lord. + + Where neither moth nor rust can harm, + Nor thieves can ere invade, + Beyond the reach of human arm, + Was his heart’s treasure laid. + + Around his farm, or in his field, + The moor birds hatch’d and fed; + And when at work, the lapwing cried, + And flutter’d o’er his head. + + While thus his little field he drain’d, + Or temper’d the wild sod, + His household too with care were train’d, + To love and fear their God. + + The field, the garden, and the tree, + For him their produce bore, + His table too, the bee supplied, + From her delicious store. + + The Lord who thus his substance blest, + Did all his wants supply; + And pleasantly to quench his thirst, + A brook ran murmuring by. + + I saw him on his dying bed, + When strength began to fail, + I saw him lift his languid head,— + And heard his happy tale. + + He then began to bless the day, + His sins had been made known, + When he began to weep and pray, + And look’d to Christ alone. + + He bless’d that Book his heart had cheer’d, + And tried its worth to tell; + He bles’d that Blood which once was shed, + To save his soul from hell. + + Yes! Christ to him was precious then, + His company was sweet; + He said, His love was in his heart, + The world beneath his feet. + + This, when the monster Death arriv’d, + Did solid comfort bring; + That blood he felt had quite depriv’d + The monster of his sting. + + “This body chang’d, shall soon,” said he, + “With saints and angels join, + And sing to all eternity, + The depths of Love Divine!” + + + + +SOLITARY REFLECTIONS! + + (_Occasioned by the death of a newly married pair, who drowned + themselves, after living together three weeks._) + + + On Esk’s old bank the watery willows weep, + Where wife and husband launch’d into the deep;— + And from their cottage sought an early grave, + To end their jarring, in the peaceful wave + + Ah, hapless pair! who can withhold the tear, + When he the melancholy place draws near! + The dire event to future times will prove, + The short enjoyment of your wedded love! + + How apt are earthly prospects to deceive, + And leave her disappointed sons to grieve! + How oft will trifling things the mind perplex, + Where grace doth not her influences mix! + + The morning shines,—to church they haste away, + And noisy guns proclaim the wedding day; + Within three weeks to the dark grave they’re borne, + To slumber till the Resurrection morn! + + Around, the neighbours mourn their hapless lot, + And weeping children haunt the dreary spot; + The lippering wave, rais’d by the nightly gale, + Tells to the Moon her melancholy tale! + + + + +ON SOME WHO HAD LEFT US, AND SPOKEN DISRESPECTFULLY OF US! + + “_There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and + yet is not washed from their filthiness._” (Proverbs xxx. 12.) + + + Yes! once they met with us, and gave us the hand, + Uniting to sing and to pray; + But long could not bear the rigid command, + So off they went lilting away! + + Forsaking the vulgar, whom now they despise, + For doctrines more learned and pure;— + This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes, + This doctrine they could not endure! + + They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain, + Our faults and our failings expose; + Because this perfection they cannot attain, + They’ll plead for their muffs and their boas! + + So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks, + They’ll laugh at a sinner in tears; + Their prayers are lock’d up in their finely bound books, + While they’re trimming their necks and their ears! + + The new birth’s convulsions they cannot have felt, + Or they dare not speak as they do; + Their heart is too proud into nothing to melt, + And must, while to mammon they bow. + + Whenever their dwelling you chance to approach, + Of their soft invitation beware; + The pharisee’s leaven, the good man’s reproach, + And the seat of the scorner are there! + + To folks of high breeding they offer their pledge, + ’Gainst others to raise a complaint; + They’ll skim on the surface, and trim off the edge, + To pass for a dignified saint! + + The God of Elijah who sees through the heart, + These specious impostors will spurn, + And send them in spite of their cunning and art, + Where they will eternally mourn! + + + + +THERE IS A GOD! + + “_The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God._” (Psalm + xiv. 1) + + + There is a God who rules above! + And man’s the object of His love! + And Jesus, His beloved Son, + Hath bled, and died to make this known. + + Though man his attributes deny, + And utter daring blasphemy, + He shall be conquer’d from above, + By Justice, Judgment, or by Love. + + Though he be lusty now, and strong, + And bold in ribaldry and song, + A time will come when he must flit, + And to a stronger arm submit. + + Then Death will disregard his groans, + And time will melt his giant bones, + If no contrition he shall feel, + His sins will sink him into hell. + + While there he drinks the bitter cup, + The dust shall lick his marrow up; + His tongue within the grave shall rot, + While name and memory are forgot. + + On that dread morn when all shall rise, + The righteous whom he did despise, + Shall over him dominion have, + And all the terrors of the grave. + + + + +CONFIRMATION. + + + The stars recede, the morn appears, + So long anticipated! + The air which now the spirit cheers, + With shouts is agitated! + + The rustics full of mirth and glee, + Are big with expectation, + Of what they are to hear and see, + When they’re at Confirmation! + + The road is fill’d from side to side, + With bonny lads and lasses; + With country bloom, and village pride, + Gigs, horses, mules, and asses! + + With whip and spur, they dash along, + As though to fair or races; + With artificial feathers hung, + And veils before their faces! + + But few know what they’re going to do, + Or they are strangely lied on; + They’re careless of the solemn vow, + As is the steed they ride on! + + They go, because their neighbours go, + Without consideration; + And think all pass for Christians, who + Are pass’d at Confirmation! + + A few there are, but few we fear, + Their faith by works expressing; + And oft in private on their knees, + They wrestle for a blessing! + + The greater part of them by far, + Will carry a Cain’s offering; + They’re strangers to the morning star, + To royal David’s offspring! + + A hope they have, but cannot tell + On what that hope is grounded;— + Thus like some old Egyptian spell, + It cannot be expounded! + + The carnal mind still bears the sway, + For want of resolution; + And scatter’d tribes, still day by day, + Profane the institution! + + In spite of lectures orthodox, + Of Bishops, prayers, and caution, + They, greedy as the thirsty ox, + Drink in the deadly potion! + + The scribes may write with mournful pen, + The Church’s lamentation; + While year by year, they seek in vain, + The fruits of Confirmation! + + + + +THE MAN OF THE WORLD! + + + From a boy much indulg’d, he grew up to a man, + And had liberty almost unbounded; + Nor scarce ever thought of this life’s little span, + With prospects of plenty surrounded! + + His steed, like himself, in high spirits he views, + As it snuffs at the fresh flowing fountain; + On which oft at daybreak he brushes the dews, + And gallops o’er valley and mountain! + + His cheek round and fat, wears the hue of the rose, + He seems quite a stranger to sorrow; + And while on his sofa his limbs find repose, + He laughs loudly, and talks of to-morrow! + + “To-morrow,” says he, “you must call up the hounds, + As soon as the light is appearing!”— + Not thinking that Death while rambling his rounds, + To his mansion a message is bearing, + + “To-morrow,” says he, “we’ll unkennel the fox, + Or in his old cabin we’ll crush him; + Or when we have got him away from the rocks, + In spite of Old Harry we’ll brush him! + + And then we will dine on the lamb or the goose, + Which, if he had liv’d would have fill’d him; + Then o’er a full bumper we’ll have a carouse, + And we’ll sing where he fell, and who kill’d him!” + + But ah! when life’s stern disappointment he meets, + Like a lion imprison’d he grieves, + That he who expected so much of life’s sweets, + So soon of its bitters receives! + + Disease o’er his fortified barriers leaps, + And with internal pain soon afflicts him;— + Next into his chamber the pale monster creeps, + And singles him out as his victim! + + Like a leaf that in autumn falls dead from the tree, + Soon a train is seen weeping behind him:— + A visit I made, his improvements to see, + And I look’d, but alas, could not find him! + + + + +THE RULE OF CONTRARY! + + + Some men have Rules so incorrect, + They almost always vary; + And some make Rules to gain respect, + But I’m for one contrary! + + Some strive to gain the smiles of men, + But I prefer their frown; + The torrent of my pride to stem, + And keep ambition down! + + The praise of men’s an empty thing, + And crowns and sceptres vain, + To him who seeks the “living spring,” + As parch’d lands look for rain! + + Some recommend the hearty laugh, + But I prefer the tear, + Which tells me that my heart is soft, + My hope of heaven is clear! + + Some say, “Give me the tavern song!” + But I prefer the sigh, + Which though unnoticed by the throng, + Yet pierces to the sky! + + Some say, “Give me that pleasing look, + Which does the fancy win!” + But give me one that’s plain without, + If she be fair within! + + Some plead for ornamental dress, + The concert and the ball; + Except the Robe of Righteousness, + Let me be stript of all! + + Some love with dealers dark to dwell, + And glory in the night; + But I would shun the road to hell, + Therefore I love the light! + + Some love their minds with tales to feed, + Of regions yet untrod;— + When I’ve a little time to read, + Give me the Book of God! + + Some praise a head of natural wit + And worldly wisdom full; + Without the truths of Holy Writ, + Give me an empty skull! + + The jet, the gold, or ivory cross, + By many is admir’d; + But I esteem the blood of Him, + Who on the cross expir’d! + + My heart with sin as crimson dyed, + Would ever so remain; + But if that blood by faith’s applied, + ’Twill cleanse from every stain! + + With some their fill of pleasure here, + Is all the good they crave:— + Give me a humble, holy fear, + A hope beyond the grave! + + At wisdom’s shrine I’ll light my torch, + And in her pleasant ways, + Under the Nazarene’s reproach, + I’ll live out all my days! + + Thus whether sanction’d or despis’d, + Such is my fancy’s Rule; + In keeping which I shall be wise, + Although accounted fool! + + Let the free thinker take the hint, + And with my creed agree; + That all are not compell’d to think, + Nor speak the same as he! + + + + +ON FINDING SOME DEISTICAL BOOKS IN THE HOUSE OF ONE WHO ONCE FEARED GOD! + + “_How is the gold become dim!_” (Lamen. iv. 1.) + + + False publications throw their gloomy rays, + Where once the Sun of Righteousness did shine; + With pain we recollect the former days, + While scoffing infidels their voices join! + + Insulting Heav’n, they oft with brazen brow, + Deny our Saviour is the Son of God! + But soon to Him their every knee shall bow, + And they shall groan beneath His iron rod! + + What madness to defy His power above, + To slight that blood which has their souls redeem’d; + To him who does his God sincerely love, + How painful ’tis to hear His name blasphem’d! + + O let us flee these men of wicked minds, + Whose glory reaches not beyond the grave; + Who to accomplish their absurd designs, + Dethrone our King, and style the conquest brave! + + Yet still He reigns, and shall for ever hold, + In massy chains the gloomy powers of Hell; + They soon His second coming shall behold, + And howling, see the place from whence they fell! + + Ah! surely Satan’s thousand years are up, + And he once more is suffer’d loose to go! + His object is to stagger Israel’s hope, + And drag them captive to his den below! + + Come down, O Lord! and bid thy thunders roll! + Send forth thy lightnings, and thy foes consume! + O let them know that thou wilt them controul, + In each, and all the shapes which they assume! + + Gird on thy sword, thou mighty matchless King! + Reclaim these poor deluded sons of men! + O save them from the cruel serpent’s sting; + And drive him back to his infernal den! + + If Israel’s hope is not quite lost in death, + May these dry bones the Word of God receive! + Come from the four winds, O reviving breath, + And breathe upon these slain, that they may live! + + + + +ON VISITING FRYUP, DURING A GREAT REVIVAL. + + + O Fryup! far distant thy fame now extends, + Kind Heav’n doth thy breaches repair; + Thou land of religion, and bibles, and friends, + I rejoice to breathe thy pure air! + + Thou land of devotion, and health to the soul, + With pleasure I walk o’er thy plains; + Where Christ to the sick hath oft spoken, “Be whole!” + Where religion, where righteousness reigns! + + With earnest desire I’ve long wish’d to see, + The beauties which now I behold; + This visit has proved more refreshing to me, + Than thousands of silver, or gold! + + The day spring of glory hath visited thee, + For joy thy inhabitant sings; + The bright Sun of Righteousness riseth on thee, + And healing’s receiv’d from his wings! + + His influence too, I have felt in my soul, + With gratitude now I confess; + May all his opposers yield to his control, + And sinners be saved by his grace! + + As lights in a land long benighted and dark, + May thy sons and thy daughters arise; + While faith to a flame fans the Heav’nly spark, + And they earnestly press to the skies! + + May the husband incessantly plead for the wife, + The wife for her husband contend; + That the favour of God which is better than life, + May on both through the Spirit descend! + + May the lover’s petition be heard for the fair, + And the maiden prevail for the youth; + Till all those who for righteousness never did care, + Feel the force of Religion and Truth! + + May thy ministers fill’d with the Spirit of God, + As giants prevail o’er their foes; + Their word prove more sharp than a two edged sword, + In defence of their King and his laws! + + May thy sinners be sav’d on every hand, + Believers be steadfast and true;— + With sorrow, once more, I now quit thy fair land, + Old Fryup! and bid thee adieu! + + + + +THE THREE VOICES! + + +_1st._ _The Voice of Conscience says_, + Man! mind thyself, and all thyself; + Thy inner self, thy outer self, + Thy present self, thy future self, + The best of self, and worst of self; + Or it may chance that thou, thyself, + For ever may’st upbraid thyself, + For making such a fool of self, + As not in time to know thyself! + +_2nd._ _The Voice of the Flesh says_, + O Man! do thou enjoy thyself, + For why should’st thou annoy thyself, + Or strangely thus employ thyself, + In seeking thus to know thyself, + When other men are like thyself! + Beware lest thou destroy thyself! + Be not a burden to thyself, + While thou hast life within thyself! + +_3rd._ _The Voice of the Devil says_, + Fine man, think highly of thyself! + Put no restraint upon thyself; + Nor with religion plague thyself! + For thou art not so bad as self + Would sometimes make thee think thyself! + To my advice submit thyself, + And in thy lusts indulge thyself;— + Then I at last shall get thyself! + + + + +A DIALOGUE + + Between Rosedale Bob and Hartoft John, on a Speech delivered by + the Venerable The Archdeacon P——, L.L.D., at a Bible Meeting + held in the new Church, Rosedale. + + +_John._—What cheer, awd stock? say what’s ther beean te doo, + ’At macks ye leeak seea dark aboot yer broo? + Yoo leeak as thof yer parliament petition + Had met wi’ sum romantic opposition! + Or mebby yoo hev met wi’ sum abuse, + Or fra’ sum quarter heeard sum heavy news! + Perhaps the trial may cum clooaser still, + Yer wife or childer may be takken ill. + +_Bob._—Alas! the news Ah hev te tell’s seea bad, + The fields an’ forests seeam i’ moorning clad; + By men unauthorized an’ unordeean’d, + Oor new erected Temple is profeean’d! + The cushions an’ the tassels all are soil’d, + The bell’s enchanted, an’ oor woorship’s spoil’d, + They’ve held in it, what’s caus’d this desecration, + A meetin’ for t’ Baable’s circulation. + +_John._—If that be all the thing’s as leeght as chaff, + The fields an’ fleeads may clap ther hands an’ laff; + Sin’ better sense is teeachin’ greeat an’ small, + Te send this glorious leeght fra’ pole te pole! + ’Tis yan o’ Jesus Christ’s last greeat commands, + Te send this leeght te dark an’ heathen lands. + Lets whooap the profit ’ll ootweigh the loss;— + If t’parson beean’t t’Church ’ll be neea worse! + +_Bob._—Whah, Ah’s neea scholar, nowther will pertend + Te say, hoo far this mischief may extend. + Oor greeat Divine, afoore he left the pleeace, + He tell’d us positive it wur the keease: + Hiz argument did raise te that amoont, + The Church wur ruin’d on this seeame accoont; + When sike like wark the church’s pillars shake, + Hiz maister’s honner foorc’d him for te speak. + +_John._—Whether Divine, M.A., or L.L.D., + ’Tis lahtle matter whea or what he be: + The thing’s reveal’d tiv us as clear as him, + What God approves man owght nut te condemn. + Whate’er may be his sacerdotal geeans, + The public, they may thenk him for hiz peeans; + ’At he seea fine a sample sud dispense + Ov college iddicated influence. + +_Bob._—Cud it be heeard an’ understeead on reeght, + Daft Hannah’s speech be quite as full o’leeght. + She thinks t’awd man sud nut ha’ beean seea vext, + Bud tonn’d hiz leeaf an’ teean anuther text. + The bad effects hez beean, she hez neea doot, + Wi’ brush or beezom swept an’ carried oot; + They teeak true pains te mack all clean an’ clivver, + An’ t’ Church is noo as gud an’ weel as ivver. + +_John._—Bud leeak thoo heer, this is the thing they dreead, + If yance t’Baable an’ the truth be spreead, + The veil ’ll fall fra’ off the people’s eyes, + An’ t’ commons then will as the lords be wise; + They then ’ll graw so base i’ disposition, + Te heigher powers they will disdain submission; + An’ will te men ov honourable name, + Refuse that homage which ther titles claim! + +_Bob._—Then chapels will i’ all directions rise, + Wi’ saucy steeples moonting te the skies; + An’ preeachers run, or ride on hoss or gig, + As rank as sheep that travel Blaca rig, + If sike proceedings further be alloo’d, + Awd England’s sun ’ll set behinnd a clood:— + Nur need we wonder they alood procleeam, + Thooase men sal speeak neea longer i’ this neeame. + +_John._—’At sike a meetin’ sud be held i’ t’ church, + By men ’at scarce wur fit te stand i’ t’ porch, + Wur sike a stain upon its consecration, + As roused his reverence’s indignation. + What cud thooase expect as ther reward, + Bud fra’ sike bold attempts te be debarr’d; + Nur ivver mare mun they cum theer again, + Whahl he hiz sacred office does sustain! + If sike like doctrines spreead an’ sud prevail, + Then Bishop’s ordination treead ’ll fail; + Then grace ’ll mare than larning be admired, + An’ priests stand i’ the market place unhired: + Men will fra’ ivvery secret corner creep, + Or oot o’ coalpits into pulpits leap; + Whahl wi’ ther gestures an’ insinuations, + They’ll rob the Churches o’ ther congregations. + +_Bob._—Then fooaks ’ll ton, like bees ’at’s left the hive, + Seea stupid as te nowther leead nur drive, + Nur draw by gifts, nur binnd doon by oppression, + Nur scar by Apostolical Succession: + In vain a man may then hiz feeace disguise, + An’ landlords ower ther tenants tyrannize. + Neea patchwark then ’ll answer as afoore, + Nur gowns, nur blankets buy or sell the poor. + That Parson then by chance may loss hiz pleeace, + Whea hunts, or gallops i’ the Steeple Chase; + Whea i’ the ring appears a jovial fellow, + Sits by his wine or grog till he is mellow; + Then wi’ hiz dogs pursues the grouse or game + Mare than the cottage ov the poor or lame; + Or if hiz gun sud chance te miss the mark + Te rap an’ sweear, an’ lie all t’bleeam o’ t’ clerk. + +_John._—Nur wonder thoo that venerable man, + Sud be seea feearful ov hiz treead an’ clan; + If better leeght be spreead by land an’ sea, + Oor heeame boond slaves ’ll seek for liberty, + They’ll finnd they’re neean seea fit te show the way, + As thooase ’at walks theerin fra’ day te day. + Bud God himsel has teeak the thing i’ hand, + An’ Baable Meetings yet sal bless oor land; + Oor God ’ll raise up men ov noble soul, + An’ He the sleepy churches will controul: + Will send hiz sarvants whea hiz judgements knaw, + Te thunner oot the terrors ov His law; + Whahl Jesus will hiz meeghty airm mack bare, + An’ tack the flocks himsel into hiz care. + +_Bob._—Sike laws amang oor heeigh up chaps exist, + As labouring men finnd hard for te resist. + O’t’ Sabbath days they rob beeath God an’ man, + That scribe may preeav this statement fause as can. + All hands mun haste seean as they hear the bell, + To t’steeple hoose let t’priest be what he will; + An’ thooase ’at izzen’t satisfied wi’ t’kirk, + Mun owther quit ther farm or loss ther woark. + +_John._—Thooase laws mitch differ fra’ the laws ov heaven, + Fra’ God te man for holy purpose given; + Peace te promote an’ put an end te strife, + Te regulate hiz hoosehod an’ hiz life. + In holy days afoore the churches fell, + Neea music soonded like the sabbath bell; + The ministers wur thoughtful, holy men, + Nur threeats wur needed, nur compulsion then. + +_Bob._—Yan wad be fain sike days again te see, + An’ hear fooaks sing wi’ love an’ melody, + As yan hez reead i’ bukes ov holy men, + ’At nowther cared for fire nur lion’s den: + Bud dreeaded sin wi’ all its scorpion stings, + Mare than the wrath ov heathen priests an’ kings. + All whea te God in meek submission boo, + Thof t’way be dark, He’ll awlus bring ’em throo. + +_John._—Jist wait a whahl, till taame reverse the scene, + An’ Anti-Christ hez hed hiz pompous reign; + When persecution wi’ her torch an’ foark, + Sets carnal men an’ ministers te woark, + Te help the Beast te mack hiz proselytes, + Te purge hiz fleer, an’ bon the hypocrites:— + Then thooase whea live, an’ hev the truth maintained, + I’ cleearer leeght ’ll hev the thing explained. + + + + +A LOVE LETTER! + + (_To Miss ——_) + + + Forgive a stranger who would make so free, + As to declare a suitor’s love for thee; + And by the strength of his affection, move + Thy heart to render back responsive love! + + The language these few humble lines impart, + Though it seem rude, is from an honest heart; + From one whose only aim and object is, + Thy Lover’s glory, and thy future bliss. + + Not for myself would I now intercede, + For I, alas, no excellence can plead; + My handsomest attire is homely spun, + And many years my glass of life hath run! + + I plead the cause of Him, at whose command, + Thy soul shall one day in his presence stand; + And thou for ever may’st lament the change, + If once His love be turn’d into revenge! + + Of all thy list of lovers finely drest, + He told me secretly He was the first; + That even in thy youthful frolics wild, + His love was on thee, from a very child! + + That often he has stood without thy door, + While thou did’st other swains prefer before: + That oft the tear hath dim’d his eye so bright, + His locks all dripping with the dews of night! + + He needs not thus admit of rivals, when + He is the fairest of the sons of men! + He wooes the world, and those who hear his voice, + Seldom, if ever, rue their happy choice. + + He says for thee He has in battle bled, + And carried weighty sorrows in thy stead; + To save thy soul from infinite distress, + He bruis’d the monster in the wilderness! + + Nay, language fails, to say by land or sea, + What perils He hath undergone for thee; + Yea, many a bitter cup, and piercing smart, + His soul hath felt to gain thy worthless heart! + + Yes! He who thus demands thy stedfast love, + Is highly honour’d in the courts above; + He speaks, and sun, and moon, and stars, stand still, + And stormy winds and waves obey his will! + + His tender care hath been about thy bed, + When midnight thunders rolled above thy head! + When trembling thou beheld’st the lightning’s glare + Light up thy room, and cause thee sudden fear! + + To all who need Him he is sure to prove + The best Physician too, when sick of love; + And yet all those who fall beneath his ire, + His anger doth consume and burn like fire! + + How long wilt thou withhold from Him his right, + Or from thyself such permanent delight, + As He hath promis’d in His faithful word, + Such as the hills of Paradise afford? + + When will thine eyes with happy tears o’erflow? + And thy fair breast with holy ardour glow? + When will thy lips thy dearest friend surprise, + By speaking out the language of the skies? + + Who thus surrender Him their heart and mind, + Through life’s vicissitudes are sure to find + “Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end,” + A faithful Lover, and a constant Friend! + + Where will those flee, or what may they expect, + Who his repeated overtures reject, + Who put in other gods their daily trust, + When He shall dash their refuge into dust? + + I long to see that lovely face of thine, + Beam forth with holy confidence divine; + And, fully freed from sin’s enthralling chain, + No longer seek for happiness in vain! + + If then thy love be wandering elsewhere, + Thy choice decide, while He doth with thee bear; + Lest thou lament thy loss with anguish keen, + When Death hath fix’d a mighty gulf between! + + + + +TRUTH TRIUMPHANT! + + + See yon flag of crimson dye, + Wave along the vaulted sky! + See yon flag, &c. + To its hem fair Truth is bound, + Blood of martyrs sprinkled round; + That earth’s multitudes may see, + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Wicked men in vain oppose, + Babes shall sing of Sharon’s Rose! + Wicked men, &c. + Borne on winds from pole to pole, + Like the prophet’s flying roll; + Ethiopia soon shall see + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Some of earth’s dark corners shine, + With this heav’nly light divine! + Some of earth’s, &c. + Africa’s dark sons obey, + Pagan temples own her sway;— + Own with us, ’tis God’s decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Turks! who will no mercy shew, + Mercy is proclaim’d for you! + Turks! who will, &c. + Men are ceasing to bow down, + To their gods of wood and stone; + And all nations soon shall see, + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Where Truth reigns the work goes on, + Christ and Truth are both but one! + Where Truth, &c. + Saints shall find the promise true, + Christ will soon “make all things new;” + And rejoice at God’s decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Pow’rs of darkness! do your best, + Put your prowess to the test! + Pow’rs of darkness! &c. + Persecution fierce employ, + Jesu’s kingdom to destroy, + ’Tis in vain! ’tis God’s decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Jews! the Crucified adore, + Objects of his wrath no more! + Jews! the Crucified, &c. + Own the Galilean King, + With your gentile brethren sing; + Now obey, ’tis God’s decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Hasten, Lord, the glorious day, + Let all true believers say! + Hasten, Lord, &c. + When these frozen hearts shall flow, + Each with love and wonder glow; + All with one accord agree, + Truth hath gain’d the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Soon th’ Archangel’s trump shall sound, + Wake the dead from sleep profound! + Soon the, &c. + Earth shall melt, the stars shall fall, + Men on rocks and mountains call; + Christ will then his saints set free:— + What a glorious Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON A BACKSLIDER. + + + How art thou fallen, thou son of the light! + How happy the scenes from which thou art driven! + Behold! if thy soul can dwell on the sight, + Where thou didst once walk and hold converse with heaven! + + Then down turn thine eye to yon dreary place, + To which with swift steps thy spirit is bound; + See the hideous forms which thy spirit shall chase, + Ere long in that fire which thee will surround! + + In anguish there thy frighted eyes shall roll, + While demons triumph at thy overthrow; + With flaming firebrands lash thy naked soul, + With burning arrows pierce thee through and through! + + Thy dying soul still fed with living pain, + Shall curse the day on which she first drew breath; + Her awful burden she must still sustain, + And weep, and wail, and long in vain for death! + + Midst hell’s deep gloom her portion she must drink, + Of double vengeance from Jehovah’s ire, + And in the burning lake for ever sink,— + That dreadful region of tormenting fire! + + Alas! the dreadful stupor still remains, + Nor hell can fright, nor heav’nly joys allure; + In vain thy self-convicted soul complains, + Of constant torment, and of thoughts impure! + + In vain the heav’nly harpers tune the lyre, + Rejoicing saints perform the three-fold part; + In vain believers flash devotion’s fire, + Or drag the holy harrows o’er thy heart! + + That heart enclos’d as in a case of steel, + Laments its loss, and seeks for rest in vain! + Sighs for that impulse which she once did feel,— + Oh! shall she never taste those joys again. + + I know the Lord is mighty to redeem, + Of boundless mercy, and unmeasur’d grace, + But sin hath fix’d a mighty gulf between,— + Beyond that gulf a Saviour shows his face. + + Sometimes thou may’st the keen conviction spurn, + Through liquor’s magic, or associates gay, + But this thy strongest refuge will o’erturn, + To think of Death, and the great judgement day. + + + + +VILLAGE PREACHING. + + “_Speak unto us smooth things._” (Isaiah xxx. 10.) + + + Far over Cleveland’s lofty hills, + Water’d by rivulets and rills, + A lovely village doth appear, + And o’er the trees its chimneys rear + + A church there is without a steeple, + And several unconverted people; + Though not much pious fruit appear, + The people still desire to hear. + + To chapel oft they go and back, + In their old summer beaten track, + Where they the Holy Spirit grieve, + And pray for what they don’t believe. + + Those preachers they like best to hear, + Whose doctrine is not too severe; + Who make no push extraordinary, + But tell their tale and let them be. + + It happen’d on a certain day, + A stranger chanced to stroll that way;— + I’ll try to sketch him if I can, + Some call him an eccentric man. + + One whom God’s Spirit had enlighten’d, + Whom his own sins had soundly frightened; + Who when by strong conviction pained, + Did pardon seek, which he obtained. + + He knew he then accepted stood, + By faith in the atoning blood; + But saw the people’s sad condition, + And offer’d them his admonition. + + A door was open in that place, + Where long had been the means of grace; + The means by many long neglected, + For fear they there should be detected. + + A worthy woman there did live, + Who her advice did gratis give; + Who cared for both the flock and fold, + Like Deborah in days of old. + + Like her she long had wish’d to see, + A glorious gospel victory; + And gave a friendly invitation, + To hear an extra exhortation. + + The forms were set, and rostrum fix’d, + The preacher went and took his text:— + Sinners! your bleeding Saviour see, + He cries, “Ye will not come to me!” + + He tried to tell what those shall win, + Who come to Christ and leave their sin; + How those shall fare in the great day, + Who all their life time stay away. + + Having as he thought, clear’d his way, + They sang, and then began to pray; + He left his elevated station, + And went among his congregation, + + Of the great things he’d dwelt upon, + He ask’d them questions, one by one, + And if advice or help was needing, + For penitents who then were pleading. + + They still went on to sing and pray, + The good, old-fashioned gospel way; + And closer press’d the invitation, + Until ’twas time for separation. + + But such unusual proceeding, + They say completely spoil’d the meeting;— + That preacher’s conduct is unstable, + Who cannot keep behind the table! + + Preachers ought not to come so nigh, + Into the soul’s affairs to pry; + For whether they be saved or no, + Is more than they’ve a right to know. + + Such bold presuming impudence, + To some might prove a great offence;— + Going and asking one by one, + How they for Heaven are getting on! + + They say they’ll come to preaching still, + If she one promise will fulfil; + That is as long as she is able, + Will keep the man behind the table. + + Those hearers now are far too thin, + Who like a lusty, loud “Amen!” + And folks have now a taste so fine, + A semiquaver breaks the line! + + Ye men of God, the truth enforce, + You cannot press the thing too close, + If you would do the people good, + Or clear your conscience of their blood. + + When your sermon is completed, + Then your aid is further needed; + To lift up still your warning voice, + Nor leave the people to their choice. + + Though some, alas, are so precise, + And God’s rich blessings do despise, + Others may need your friendly care, + And will your counsel gladly hear. + + If your advice when managed well, + Perchance might save some soul from Hell; + Oh think of this,—and if you’re able, + You may stand still behind the table. + + If I should go that way once more, + And find the people as before; + They must have either chain or cable, + If they keep _me_ behind the table. + + + + +THE LODGER IN LIVERPOOL; + +OR, + +THE MASON IN WINTER NIPT BY THE FROST. + + While a card party were enjoying themselves in an adjoining + room. + + + While sad I sit, oft musing over + Happy days for ever fled; + A lonely lodger in a corner, + Like some hermit in his shed. + + All around seems blithe and merry; + _My_ light’s dim, and harp’s unstrung, + While memory turns to yonder valley, + On whose flowery banks I’ve sung. + + Dirty, ragged, and down-hearted, + Far from country, friends, and home; + And as far from kindness parted, + Doom’d for work the world to roam. + + While the cheerful game hath flourish’d, + Gaily the glad table round; + From my eye the tear unnoticed, + Oft hath fallen to the ground. + + Now they sing of female beauty, + Or the treachery of men, + Or of robbers seeking booty, + Like the tiger from his den. + + Lovely forms and handsome faces, + Serve to gild the gay deceit; + Amorous ditties serve for graces, + Both before and after meat. + + ’Tis theirs to share life’s fleeting joys, + Mine to drag the galling chain; + But still a hope my spirit buoys, + That the sun will shine again. + + If their pleasures were not carnal, + I might long with them to share; + Did they lead to joys eternal, + When they laugh, I might despair. + + But when time makes all surrender, + Nor permits the least excuse, + Happy they, whom time’s avenger, + Charges not with its abuse. + + + + +EDOM. + + (Isaiah lxiii. 1.) + + + O ye muses, assist me to sing, + Of the things which by faith I have seen; + Of the love of my Saviour and King, + While wandering on earth I have been. + + That Him I so little have loved, + For this I have reason to mourn; + And for talents and time mis-improved, + In the days of my youth that are gone. + + For neglect of the records divine, + Which so often did sound in mine ear; + My affections they did not incline, + I neglected like others to hear. + + Like sheep did we all go astray, + And left the fair pastures serene; + Did wander from him far away, + Where terror and darkness were seen. + + There in ambush our enemies lay, + As we roam’d o’er those desolate plains; + We became their unfortunate prey, + And were bound in affliction and chains. + + We long in that sad plight did lie, + Nor had courage nor strength to look up; + Yet we oft cast a languishing eye, + To the hills from whence cometh our hope. + + And there came one from Edom afar, + To whom the sad signal we gave; + He looked like a champion of war, + He was bloody—yet mighty to save! + + And as swift to our rescue He came, + We related to Him all our grief, + He said that heaven heard us complain, + And ’twas He that had brought us relief. + + “Who art thou?” then we fearfully said, + “Why so red in thy glorious array? + Like one who is sorely dismayed, + Through the burden and heat of the day?” + + “I have come from the Father of lights, + That you in His glory may shine; + Whose throne is on high o’er all heights, + And the work of redemption is mine. + + In His courts the great question was ask’d, + Who would rescue lost man from the grave? + I, my love and omnipotence task’d, + That the ruined and lost I might save! + + Then stern Justice demanded his due, + And I looked for help but found none; + So my life I have laid down for you, + And have trodden the wine press alone. + + “Look on me,” He said with a smile, + “’Twas for you I was bruised as ye see; + There was none for this wonderful toil, + And the burden fell all upon me!” + + Then He lifted us up from the ground, + And He broke our tyrannical chain; + While His blood stream’d afresh from each wound, + And whoever it touch’d was made clean! + + “The ransom, though mighty, is paid, + Therefore open your hearts to receive; + You need be no longer afraid + If you truly repent and believe!” + + While sweet comfort thus flow’d from his tongue, + His visage though marr’d grew more fair; + With swift wings and angelical song, + He ascended on high in the air! + + A bright cloud took Him out of our sight, + And our eyes could behold him no more; + He arose to the regions of light, + And left us to believe and adore! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON ABSENT FRIENDS, GONE TO AMERICA. + + + The sun had gone down o’er yon lofty mountain, + The last golden streamer had left the tall tree; + The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy, + Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea. + + The rose tree was nodding the lasses had nourish’d, + Which oft had supplied them with Sunday’s perfume; + The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish’d, + And wept o’er the beautiful daisy in bloom! + + In the track by the river the green grass is springing, + On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray; + No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing, + To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play. + + The dog in the night time now howls discontented, + Of its master and mistress but lately bereft; + I listen’d and look’d to the place they frequented, + Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left. + + How strong the emotions of friendship were glowing, + When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved; + Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing, + As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved. + + From the shores of old England we anxiously view’d them, + A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight; + Far o’er the blue surface affection pursued them, + Till the ship was conceal’d by the curtain of night. + + They have left us,—their absence wakes mournful reflection, + As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away; + We can only consign them to heavenly protection, + To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey. + + He who roves through the wood may quickly discover, + Their affection in tokens which there he will see; + Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover, + May sigh o’er their names in the bark of the tree. + + + + +THE LAST JOB OF AN OLD TRAMP; + +OR, + +REFLECTIONS ON BURNING A MASON’S MALLET + +FOR A YULE CLOG, ON CHRISTMAS EVE. + + + O thou once highly valued piece of wood, + By him who best that value understood; + Whose purse so often thou didst help to fill,— + Whom bed and board, + Thou didst afford, + Attended by thy train of sharpen’d steel! + + True to thy task throughout the changing year, + Thy fellowship was to thy master dear:— + Whether at work, or o’er his shoulder slung, + Or near his side, + Thou wast his pride, + While with his friend he cheerful sat and sung! + + Without a murmur at stern winter’s frown, + Or summer’s heat, in country or in town, + The stone hath yielded to thy sturdy blow:— + Thy day is gone, + Thy task is done, + And thou art own’d by thy last master now! + + While careless I thy destiny survey, + And see thee down to ashes waste away; + Thy crackling whisper seems to shew to me, + The frailty clear, + Of all things here, + To earth allied, and man’s mortality! + + Since first on thee the tender bud appear’d, + Or on thy branch the birds the woodlands cheer’d, + What strange vicissitudes have roll’d between; + Since thou wast nurs’d, + With care at first, + Or in the forest flourish’d gay and green! + + There was a time when high thy top did wave, + In mystic triumph o’er the woodman’s grave, + Whose stroke had ceas’d, worn out by course of years; + Where undismay’d + The breezes play’d, + Whose peaceful shade remembrance only bears! + + Ah! thou wilt never, never bud again, + Thy ashes lost in field, or flood, or lane; + No more the sun will on thy substance shine: + It would, at last, I fear, + Be well with many here, + If life’s last spark might be compared with thine! + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + + Aboon—_above_ + Ageean—_against_ + Ah—_I_ + Ah’v—_I have_ + Airm—_arm_ + Alang—_along_ + ’At’s—_that is_ + Awd—_old_ + Awn—_own_ + Awlus—_always_ + Ax—_ask_ + + Baable—_bible_ + Bairn—_child_ + Beck—_a brook_ + Beean—_been_ + Beeans—_bones_ + Beean’t—_be not_ + Beeath—_both_ + Beelds—_builds_ + Berreed—_buried_ + Besaads—_besides_ + Blaw—_blow_ + Bleead—_blood_ + Boo—_bow_ + Booast—_boast_ + Boorn—_born_ + Boon—_going_ + Bon—_burn_ + Bonny—_handsome_ + Bowght—_bought_ + Breeght—_bright_ + Brigg—_bridge_ + Broo—_brow_ + Bukes—_books_ + + Cawd—_cold_ + Caps—_puzzles_ + Cheeans—_chains_ + Childer—_children_ + Chimler—_chimney_ + Clim—_climb_ + Clivver—_clever_ + Com—_came_ + Congker’d—_conquered_ + Convarsion—_conversion_ + Cooat—_coat_ + Coorn—_corn_ + Coorse—_course_ + Cubburt—_cupboard_ + Cum—_come_ + + Daft—_weak in mind_ + Dee—_die_ + Deea—_do_ + Deeal—_dale_ + Deean—_done_ + Deed—_died_ + Deein—_dying_ + Desaun’d—_designed_ + Doon—_down_ + Doot—_doubt_ + Draave—_drive_ + Duffil—_kind of coarse cloth_ + + Ee—_eye_ + Een—_eyes_ + Efter—_after_ + Ey—_aye_ + + Faanly—_finely_ + Fain—_glad_ + Fand—_found_ + Fause—_false_ + Feeat—_foot_ + Feead—_fed_ + Feight—_fight_ + Finnd—_find_ + Flay’d—_afraid_ + Fleead—_flood_ + Fleer—_floor_ + Floor—_flower_ + Foark—_fork_ + Fooas—_foes_ + Fooaks—_folks_ + Fooam—_foam_ + Foond—_found_ + Forgeean—_forgiven_ + Fower—_four_ + Fra’—_from_ + Freeat—_fret_ + Frev—_from_ + Froon’d—_frowned_ + Fund—_found_ + + Gaain—_going_ + Gamlin—_gambling_ + Gang—_to go_ + Gangin—_going_ + Gat—_got_ + Geean—_gone_ + Geean’d—_gained_ + Geen—_given_ + Gie—_give_ + Ginnes—_guineas_ + Gitten—_got_ + Gooan—_gone_ + Graw—_grow_ + Greeatin—_groaning_ + Greeave—_grave_ + + Hawf—_half_ + Heeame—_home_ + Heearth—_earth_ + Heeigh—_high_ + Hennut—_have not_ + Hev—_have_ + Hez—_has_ + Hezzen’t—_has not_ + Hods—_holds_ + Hoo—_how_ + Hoor—_hour_ + Hooivver—_however_ + Hoose—_house_ + Hoosin—_household_ + Hoss—_horse_ + + Iddicated—_educated_ + I’ noo—_soon_ + I’ t’—_in the_ + Iv—_in_ + Ivvery—_every_ + + Keease—_case_ + Ken—_to see_ + Kesenmas—_christmas_ + Kest—_cast_ + Kirk—_church_ + Knaw—_know_ + Ky—_cows_ + + Lahtle—_little_ + Lee—_a lie_ + Leeak—_look_ + Leeatly—_lately_ + Leeght—_light_ + Lie—_to lay_ + Lig—_to lie_ + Lood—_loud_ + Loore—_learning_ + Loss—_lose_ + + Mack—_make_ + Mah—_my_ + Mahle—_mile_ + Mare—_more_ + Maund—_mind_ + Mebby—_may be_ + Meead—_made_ + Meeasons—_masons_ + Meeght—_might_ + Meer—_a mare_ + Misteean—_mistaken_ + Mitch—_much_ + Mooan’t—_must not_ + Mooat—_mote_ + Moont—_mount_ + Moorning—_mourning_ + Mud—_might_ + Mun—_must_ + + Natches—_notches_ + Neea—_no_ + Neean—_none_ + Neegh—_nigh_ + Neeght—_night_ + Neen—_nine_ + Nivver—_never_ + Nobbut—_only_ + Nooas—_noes_ + Nooatice—_notice_ + Nooation—_idea_ + Nowght—_nothing_ + Nowther—_neither_ + Nowthern—_northern_ + Nut—_not_ + + Ommost—_almost_ + Onny—_any_ + Oor—_our_ + O’ t’—_of the_ + Ower—_over_ + Owerton—_overturn_ + Owght—_ought, or aught_ + Owther—_either_ + + Pearted—_parted_ + Pertend—_pretend_ + Pleeace—_place_ + Pleugh—_plough_ + Plissures—_pleasures_ + Poosts—_posts_ + Praaze—_praise, or prize_ + Preear—_prayer_ + Preeav—_prove_ + Prisance—_presence_ + Prooan—_prone_ + Prooase—_prose_ + Prood—_proud_ + + Raise—_rise_ + Rath—_wrath_ + Reeace—_race_ + Reeght—_right_ + Reen—_reign_ + Rint—_rent_ + Rowlin—_rolling_ + Rum—_room_ + + Saain’d—_signed_ + Sal—_shall_ + Sare—_sore_ + Sarten—_certain_ + Sawn—_sown_ + Screeve—_mark_ + Seea—_so_ + Seeaf—_safe_ + Seean—_soon_ + Seeaven—_seven_ + Seeght—_sight_ + Seer—_sure_ + Shanks—_legs_ + Shaw—_show_ + Sheeape—_shape_ + Shoat—_short_ + Shoo—_show_ + Shoothers—_shoulders_ + Sike—_such_ + Sin’—_since_ + Skoors—_scores_ + Snaw—_snow_ + Soorce—_source_ + Sowl—_soul_ + Spak—_spoke_ + Steead—_stood_ + Steeaks—_stakes_ + Steean—_stone_ + Strang—_strong_ + Strave—_strive_ + Stond—_stand_ + Stour—_drift_ + Sud—_should_ + Sum—_some_ + Sute—_suit_ + Swap—_exchange_ + + Taame—_time_ + Tack—_take_ + Teea an’ fraw—_to and fro_ + Teeables—_tables_ + Teeak—_took_ + Teeal—_tale_ + Teean—_taken_ + Tegither—_together_ + Te t’—_to the_ + Thah—_thy_ + Thee—_thy_ + Theer—_there_ + Thenk—_thank_ + Ther—_their_ + Thof—_though_ + Thowght—_thought_ + Thraving—_thriving_ + Thruff—_through_ + Thunner—_thunder_ + Tiv—_to_ + Ton—_turn_ + Toons—_towns_ + Towght—_taught_ + Treead—_trade_ + Trimmel’d—_trembled_ + Trist—_trust_ + ’Twad—_it would_ + Twea—_two_ + + Ungker’d—_strange_ + + Voo—_vow_ + + Wad—_would_ + Waddn’t—_would not_ + Wark—_work_ + Warst—_worst_ + Wean’t—_will not_ + Weeap—_weep_ + Weel—_well_ + Wesh—_wash_ + Wha—_who_ + Whahl—_while_ + Wheas—_who is, or whose_ + Whooap—_hope_ + Whoor—_where_ + Winder—_window_ + Winnut—_will not_ + Wiv—_with_ + Woak—_walk_ + Woark—_work_ + Wods—_words_ + Wor—_were_ + Woth—_worth_ + Wrang—_wrong_ + Wur—_our_ + Wur—_was_ + + Yack—_oak_ + Yah—_one_ + Yan—_one_ + Yance—_once_ + Yer—_your_ + + + + +INDEX. + + + Page. + + Preface, 5 + + Awd Isaac, Part First, 9 + + —— Part Second, 25 + + —— His dying advice, 30 + + Dialogue on a Steeple Chase, 35 + + The Lucky Dream, 44 + + A strange effusion, 46 + + Lealholm Bridge, 48 + + Old Sam, or the effects of the Gospel, 51 + + Thoughts on Good Friday, 55 + + To a withered flower, 57 + + The country Love Feast, 59 + + Ode to Britain, 62 + + A voice from the dead, 63 + + To the Moor birds in a storm, 66 + + Lines on returning a borrowed Stick, 67 + + The thunder storm, 68 + + The Miser’s away, 69 + + The Mistake, 71 + + The broken seal, 72 + + The Stone!, 75 + + To the rising Sun, 82 + + Lines in memory of the Rev. D. Duck, 84 + + An elegy on the death of a beloved child, 85 + + On the first text heard spiritually, 88 + + To a Squirrel in a cage, 90 + + To a bird singing in winter, 92 + + Petch’s Elegy, 93 + + Reflections on Petch’s tomb, 95 + + “Who hath believed our report?”, 97 + + The Bees, 100 + + Caution from Limber Hill, 101 + + The village church in ruins, 103 + + Poetical reflections, 105 + + The two hours’ task, 110 + + The country blunder, 113 + + A sinner saved by grace, 115 + + The portion of the Just, 117 + + The happy choice, 118 + + On the death of John Morley, 119 + + The servant’s address to his master, 122 + + Sabbath morning musings, 125 + + Lines on leaving Fryup, 129 + + The Swallow, 131 + + A call to the careless, 132 + + To a horse, dying alone!, 134 + + Musings during affliction, 137 + + The Play, 144 + + The remote Christian, 146 + + Solitary reflections, 149 + + On some who had left us, 150 + + There is a God, 152 + + Confirmation, 153 + + The man of the world, 155 + + The rule of contrary, 157 + + On finding some Deistical books, in the + house of one who once feared God, 160 + + On visiting Fryup, 162 + + The Three Voices, 164 + + Dialogue between Rosedale Bob, and Hartoft John, 165 + + A love letter, 170 + + Truth triumphant, 173 + + Reflections on a Backslider, 176 + + Village preaching, 178 + + The lodger in Liverpool, 182 + + Edom, 184 + + Reflections on absent Friends, 187 + + Last Job of an old Tramp, 189 + + Glossary, 191 + + +_Whitby: Printed by Horne and Richardson._ + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + + Page 23: Unnecessary opening “ as in original + Page 27: .! at end of verse as in original + Page 34: Closing ” has no associated opening “ in the original + Page 46: Opening “ has no associated closing ” in the original + Page 54: “ added before We all must + Page 59: mispent as in the original + Page 70: expence as in the original + Page 148: bles'd as in the original + Page 174: Powr's corrected to Pow'rs (second instance) + Page 175: &c, corrected to &c. in the last verse + Page 186: Unnecessary opening “ as in original + Page 190: flourish,d corrected to flourish'd + Page 195: sowl corrected to soul + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and +other Poems, by John Castillo + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 35287-0.txt or 35287-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/2/8/35287/ + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + +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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/35287-0.zip b/35287-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..303a90c --- /dev/null +++ b/35287-0.zip diff --git a/35287-8.txt b/35287-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e25190 --- /dev/null +++ b/35287-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6981 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and other +Poems, by John Castillo + +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: Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and other Poems + With a glossary of the Yorkshire Dialect + +Author: John Castillo + +Release Date: February 14, 2011 [EBook #35287] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +Dialect has been retained. Printer's errors and corrections are +described at the end of the text. Underscores have been used to +mark _italic text_. + +Note that there is an index to the poems at the end of the text. + + + + +AWD ISAAC, + +THE STEEPLE CHASE, + +AND OTHER + +POEMS; + +WITH A GLOSSARY OF THE + +YORKSHIRE DIALECT: + +BY JOHN CASTILLO. + +WHITBY: +PUBLISHED BY HORNE & RICHARDSON. + +1843. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The Author of the following Poems prefixes a "Preface" to them, lest he +should seem to be wanting in respect to his readers, did he not comply +with a custom which is universal. In doing so, however, he would eschew +two kinds of Preface, viz: that in which the author arrogates to himself +the merit of having produced a work entirely _new_, both in subject, and +in manner of expression, and on that score claims the plaudits of his +friends and the public;--and that in which the author professes to feel +himself inadequate to the task of composing a book, but at the pressing +solicitation of his friends, with great distrust of his abilities for +such a work, he yields to their entreaties, and pleads his inability in +mitigation of the critic's wrath. With respect to the former, the writer +of the present volume professes not to offer to his readers any thing +_new_, either as to matter, or to language; and as to the latter, the +following pieces were most of them composed several years ago, at +distant intervals of time, and were frequently perused by his friends +long before he had thoughts of publishing them:--the character of his +poetry is therefore pretty well known to those who are likely to become +purchasers of his book; and it would be but a bungling apology did he +attempt to shelter its defects under the plea of inability for his task. + +It will be unnecessary to say much of the subjects sung of in the +following poems. Though they are various, the author hopes they will all +be found to contain a moral, which, if acted upon in common life, would +direct the conduct to a beneficial end. Many of them are founded on +facts which occurred in the writer's neighbourhood, and which he has +endeavoured to turn to a useful purpose. Others are of an experimental +cast, and are the breathings of the poet's heart when inflamed by Love +Divine! It has been his constant aim to exhibit the workings of grace in +the heart, its effects on the life, and the glorious futurity to which +it conducts its possessor. For this purpose, he has seized on a variety +of incidents known to many of his friends, which have furnished him with +matter on which to graft a spiritual thought. Life in its spring tide, +or when ebbing in death, home with its simple yet hallowed joys, a +religious assembly rapt in devotion and love, a landscape endeared by +the associations of youth or of kindred, a dilapidated church, a +withering flower, a text of scripture--have supplied him with +topics;--and he trusts that the doctrines which he has inculcated in +connection with them will always be found to agree with the Word of God. + +Of the "Dialect" in which some of the pieces are composed, the author +deems it necessary to say a few words. It is well known that every +county in England has its peculiarities of expression and pronunciation. +These peculiarities, though often unintelligible to persons brought up +at a distance, are yet the native language of the common inhabitants; +and there is, in their estimation, a point and power in them, which are +not to be found in more polished periods. The author has availed himself +of the dialect of his native county to convey to a particular class of +persons some important truths, which may, perhaps, be more welcomely +received because clad in that garb. There may, indeed, appear to +delicate ears, a rudeness approaching to barbarism, in the dialect which +he has employed; but what is wanting in polish, will, in the estimation +of those for whom he writes, be more than compensated by force and +vigour. Truth is truth--however humble the habiliments in which it is +dressed: nor does it come with less power to the heart because conveyed +in language with which those for whom it was intended are familiar. +Indeed, there is in that very _familiarity_ something which arrests the +attention and affects the heart. Of the correctness of this view, the +author has many times seen proof, in the interest with which some of the +pieces in the dialect have been listened to, by persons whose education +being limited they could not perhaps have appreciated the beauties of +polished verse, but were at once arrested and delighted when the artless +tale was narrated in their mother tongue. To make this part of the work +as complete as possible, great care has been used to render the +orthography correct: published specimens of the Dialect have been +consulted, as well as living authorities, and no pains have been spared +that could contribute to make it complete both to the eye and to the +ear. A difference of orthography may occasionally appear, caused by the +necessity of making a rhyme;--excepting a few rare instances of this +kind, a standard has been adopted which has not been departed from. For +the assistance of those who are unacquainted with the dialect of the +North Riding of Yorkshire, a copious glossary is appended to the work, +by reference to which the meaning of any unknown term or phrase will at +once be seen. + +The author prays that the blessing of God may accompany his work! + + + + +AWD ISAAC. + +(PART FIRST.) + + + Yah neeght as Ah went heeame fra' wark, + A lahtle bit afoore 'twur dark, + Quite blithe an' cheerful as a lark, + Ah thowght me-sel; + Ah sat me doon, te rist a bit, + At top o't' hill. + + Fooaks just wur turnin oot ther ky;-- + A lahtle plain awd man com by;-- + "Cum set ye doon, gud frind," sez I, + "An' rist yer legs;" + He'd beean a bit o' floor te buy, + An' twea'r three eggs. + + Ah fand him varry fain te stop;-- + His staff he set up as a prop;-- + His hooary heead he lifted up, + An' thus compleean'd:-- + (Sum fragments ov a gud like feeace, + Ther still remeean'd.) + + "Yoo see," sez he, "mah deear young frind, + Mah travel's ommost at an end; + Wi' age mah back begins te bend, + An' white's mah hair; + Ov this warld's griefs, yoo may depend, + Ah'v hed mah share." + + His teeal tho' simple, it wur grand, + An' varry gud te understand,-- + His stick steead up aboon his hand, + T'awd fashion'd way; + His cooat an' hat wur wether tann'd, + A duffil gray. + + "Ah think," sez Ah, "'at Scriptur sez, + Gray hairs is honorable dress, + If they be fund i'reeghteousness, + By faith obtain'd; + An' think, by what yer leeaks express, + That praaze yoo've gain'd. + + Wi' age it izzen't gud te jooak, + An'ts ommost ower warm te woak, + Sit doon, an' hev a bit o' tawk, + O' things 'at's past; + Awd men like yoo, hez seeaf beeath heeard + An' seen a vast." + + "A vast Ah hev beeath heeard an' seen, + An' felt misfotten's arrows keen, + As yoo remark, whahl Ah hev beean + On this life's stage; + It's sike a varry changin scene, + Fra' yooth te age. + + Hoo great, an' yet hoo feeble's man, + His life at langest's bud a span;" + His history be thus began, + Wi' teears te tell; + An' if yer ears be owght like maane, + 'Twill pleease ye weel. + + "Lang sin' Ah lost mah wife," sez he, + "Which wur a heavy cross te me; + An' then mah sun teeak off tot' sea, + A fine young man, + An' Ah neea mare his feeace mun see, + It's ten te yan. + + Ah happen'd te be off yah day, + A kind ov sweetheart, as they say, + Com in an' teeak mah lass away, + Wi' hoosin stuff; + An' noo, poor thing, she's deead, they say, + A lang way off. + + It's noo neen yeear, an' gaain i'ten, + Sin' Ah at t'bark wood joined sum men, + 'Twur theer Ah fell an' leeam'd me-sen, + I' spite o' care; + Ah wur foorc'd te gie up theer an' then, + An' woark ne mare. + + Bud t'neeaburs hez beean varry gud, + Or else lang sin' Ah'd stuck i't' mud, + An' seea throo them an' t'help o' God, + Ah gits mah breead; + An' whooap they'll be rewarded for't, + When Ah's law leead. + + Bud seein all mah cumforts gooan, + Ah didden't knaw what way te ton, + Then Ah began te sigh an' mooan, + Beeath neeght an' day; + Ah bowght a Baable, an' began + Te reead an' pray. + + An' as Ah reead, an' as Ah preea'd, + Ah thowght it thunner'd ower mah heead, + An' offens Ah' wur sadly flay'd + Wi' dismal noises, + Sumtaames i' bed Ah thowght Ah heeard + Some ungkerd voices. + + A preeacher chanc'd te cum this way, + Ah'v cause te ivver bless the day, + Kind Providence leead me that way + This man te heear; + Ah, like a sheep, had geean astray + For monny a yeear. + + He sed 'twur t'luv o' Christ cumpell'd him, + Bud seean as ivver Ah beeheld him, + Ah thowght 'at sum kind frind hed tell'd him + All mah heart; + For ivv'ry word, like arrows pointed, + Meead it smart. + + Ah thowght, till then, 'at Ah wur reeght, + Bud he set mah sins all i'mah seeght, + At last Ah fell doon at his feet + Wi' solid grief; + Ah thowght Ah sud ha' deead afoore + Ah fund relief. + + Ah reeally thowght, if yoo'll beleeave me, + 'At hell wur oppen te receeave me, + Sum sed the Lord wad seean releeave me, + He wur mah keeper; + Bud all they sed did nowght but greeave me, + An' cut me deeper. + + Ah dreeaded th' Almighty's froon, + An' wander'd greeatin up an' doon, + Nowther i't' coontry nor i't' toon + Neea rist Ah fand; + Mah sins, like stars, did me surroon', + Or heeaps o' sand. + + Then varry seean t'repoort wur rais'd, + An' all roond t'village it wur blaz'd, + Awd Isaac, he wur gangin craz'd + An' nowght seea seer; + Mah cottage then for days an' days + Neea sowl com near. + + At thowghts ov ivverlastin pains, + An' bein bund iv endless chains, + Mah bleead, like ice, ran thruff mah veins + Wi' shivrin dreead; + Ah cudden't sleep, an' Ah forgat + Te eat mah breead. + + At last this gud man com ageean, + For which mah heart wur glad an' fain, + Just like a thorsty land for rain, + Ah sat quite neear him; + Whahl ivv'ry organ ov mah sowl, + Wur bent te heear him. + + Bud seean as Ah his sarmon heeard, + A still small voice mah sperits cheear'd, + An' Ah, that varry neeght wur meeade, + A happy man; + Te praaze the Lord wi' all mah heart, + Ah then began. + + Ah knew He hed mah sins forgeean, + Whahl Ah hed in His prisance beean, + An' that His bleead cud wesh me cleean, + An' white as snaw, + An' mack me fit wi' Him te reen + Whahl heer belaw. + + Sin' then, i' all mah conflicts heer, + Ah flees te Him wi' faith an' preear, + An' He, in marsey, lends an eear. + Thruff his deear Son; + An' this is t'way, wi' whooap an' feear, + Ah travels on. + + Oft, when Ah thus draws neear te Him, + He macks mah een wi' teears te swim, + Then fills mah heart quite up te t' brim + Wi' t'luv o' God; + An' when Ah gets mare faith i' Him, + Ah hods mah hod. + + Sumtaames Ah'v hed yon beck te swim, + An' monny a time this hill te clim, + Wi' heavy heart an' weeary lim' + An' sweeaty broo; + Bud all 'at ah can trist Him in, + He helps me throo. + + In all the straits ov life, sez he, + Hooivver bare mah cubburt be, + Wi' broon breead crust, an' woormwood tea, + Or even gall, + Whereivver Ah finnds Christ te be, + He sweet'ns all. + + Mah neeaburs all, Ah deearly luv 'em, + An' oft Ah's foorc'd for t'repruv 'em + Te seek the Lord Ah tries te muv 'em, + Wi' heart sincere, + Bud t'answers oft 'at Ah gets frev em, + 'S quite severe. + + Ah'v oft felt sorry te me-sel, + Beeath greeav'd an' sham'd the truth te tell, + When Ah hev heeard oor awd kirk bell + Ring in te preear; + Ah's flay'd 'at sum 'll hear't i' hell + Upbreead 'em theer. + + They'll sit or lig upon ther deead, + An' tawk aboot all kinds o' treead, + An' laff, an' lee, quite undismay'd, + Till they've rung in; + Sike fooaks te t' warld thay're owther wed, + Or neear akin. + + Sum sez ther priest's a stumlin block, + He nivver leeads 'em on te t' rock, + Like thooase 'at mends a threead-bare frock + Wi' a new piece, + He cares bud lahtle for his flock, + If he gets t'fleece. + + Bud oors, he is a Christian breeght, + He preeaches Christ wiv all his meeght, + Fills each beleeaver wiv deleeght, + 'At gangs te heear him; + An' therefoore ov his people's bleead + The truth 'll clear him. + + Ah'v heeard him tell 'em pat an' plain, + 'At they mun all be boorn again, + Or suffer ivverlastin pain, + I' t'warld te cum; + Bud if they'll flee te Christ i' time, + For all ther's rum. + + I'th' pulpit or i' conversation, + He's awlus on for t'sowl's salvation, + Wi' kind reproof or exhoortation. + Or coonsel sweet; + An' thooase 'at follows his persuasion, + They'll be reeght. + + Ther's sum 'at sez, bud they're misteean, + When they're babtized they're boorne ageean; + Just heer they miss t' fundation steean, + An' beelds o't' sand; + An' they've neea dreead, till t'hoose is doon + Bud it 'll stand. + + Ah's flay'd," sez he, "ift' truth wur knawn, + Ther's monny a precious soul o'erthrawn, + For that gud seed 'at he hez sawn + Wi'oot effect; + Bud bleeam for ivver is ther awn, + Thruff sad neglect. + + Ah'v seen yoong men, an' women too, + An' men wi' hair all off ther broo, + Afoore he's reead his lesson throo, + 'S beean fast asleep; + Whahl others 'at far better knew + 'S beean seen te weep. + + They'll rock an' riggle like a ship, + Till sum kind frind gies them a nip, + Or wakken'd up wi' t'saxton's whip, + Or others' coughing; + Then, mebby, when they've rubb'd their een, + They'll start a laffin. + + Sum's liv'd te three or fower skoor, + An' lang time heer's had rulin pow'r, + They've woorn deep tracks across 'at moor, + Wi' constant gangin; + Bud still, all t'whahl, for this warld's loore, + Ther heearts wur langin. + + Thersels they've nivver fairly seen, + They've nivver knawn ther sins forgeean, + Tho' monny a time ther prayers hev beean + As lood as t'clark; + And thof they've hed twea pair of een, + They've deed i't' dark. + + Ther's sum 'at neeame o' Christian beears, + An's hed that neeame for monny yeears, + 'At's berreed ow'r t'heead an' t'eears, + I' warldly care; + An' oft at kirk, we've cause te feear, + They market theer. + + Ah wur at a sarten hoose yah day, + An' t'awd man tiv his son did say, + If all be weel, thoo mun away, + Te moorn te t' kirk, + An' try te git oor wreeghts next week, + Te cum te woark. + + An' Tommy, he's i' sike a tackin, + 'At cooat 'll spoil for want o' mackin, + If t' tailor's theer, thoo mun be at him, + Te cum an' all; + That's weel contrav'd, an' then yah thrang, + 'Ll deea for all. + + Thoo needn't stop te gang roond t' farm, + Bud mun be theer i' reeght gud taame, + Or mebby, if thoo dizzen't maand, + Thoo'll loss thy chance; + Ther's sumtaames three or fower at him, + All at yance. + + It's ower far te gang a-feeat, + An' if 't be warm thoo's seer te sweeat, + Thee Moother, she'll deea nowght bud freeat, + Seea tak awd Dragon; + An' tell him he mun cum next week. + An' mend oor waggon. + + Then if ye chance i't' coorse o't' weeak, + O't' Sunday's subject for te speeak, + You'll finnd awd memory seea weeak, + It's all forgitten; + Thus wounded sowls 'at's beean hawf heeal'd + T'awd sarpent's bitten. + + That skull 'at's moolded green an' gray, + T'awd saxton dug up t'other day, + Knaws varry neear as mitch as thay + O't' Sunday's sarmon; + Yoo may as weel o't' subject tawk + Te sum awd Jarman. + + That poor awd man's noo deead an' geean, + Tis hard te say what way he's teean, + 'At used te stand ageean t'funt steean, + Te tack fooaks watches; + Whahl careless lads i't' singin pew + Wur cuttin natches. + + An' seea for want o' cultivation, + They shuffle on withoot salvation, + A vast, Ah's flay'd, 's o' this perswasion, + Beeath yoong an' awd; + Te be forgeean they ha' neea nooation, + Till deead an' cawd. + + Bud they'll finnd oot afoore't be lang, + 'At they've all t' taame beean sadly wrang, + Ther wills may then be ower strang, + Te breeak or bend; + An' noo they say they're ower thrang, + They can't attend. + + I' summer taame they'll leeave t'awd nest, + An' driss up i' ther varry best, + An' gallop off alang wi' t'rest, + Te t' fair or reeaces; + A vast gits what they nivver kest + At sike like pleeaces. + + Ther's sum gets theer wi' wooden legs on, + An' monny poor awd men wi' wigs on, + Just sarvs t'yoong fooaks te run ther rigs on, + A fine example, + Whahl doon i't' dust ther poor awd lims + Sumtaames they trample. + + Ther's sum can nowther sit nor lig, + Aboot t'election they're seea big, + They say they're Britons, rump an' rig, + Bud whea can trist 'em, + When, frev a Toory tiv a Whig, + A glass 'll twist 'em? + + Ther's others rayther shoat o' seeght, + Fort' seeak o' twea'r three sovrens breeght, + Gies in ther vooat, an' thinks it reeght, + Te t' Roman stranger; + Then others pleeaster up i't' street, + "_The Church in danger!_" + + An' seea they yan prevent another, + Wi' drinking, politics, an' bother, + Thof t' best ov all can't seeave his bruther, + Nor ransom him; + That spark 'at's left they try te smuther, + Wi' stratigem. + + As for thooase Methodeys, they say, + They mack seea varry mitch te deea, + Ther's sum wad deea nowght else bud pray + An' reead, an' preeach, + Till they git all meead Methodeys, + Within ther reeach. + + Bud ther wur neean o' this amaze, + I' neean ov oor foore elder's days, + Thof ther gud deeds an' honest prayers, + An' pious reeadins, + Hez beean, neea doot, as gud as theers, + Wiv all ther meetins. + + Te see 'em doon o' beeath ther knees, + I' kirk, or field, or under trees, + Wi' brokken hearts an' teearful ees, + Wur quite uncommon; + An' if they hevn't deed i' t' faith, + Then what's cum'd on 'em. + + Te preeach 'em all geean doon te hell, + It is a dreeadful teeal te tell, + An' we mun wiv oor kindred dwell, + Seea we, like them, + Will on life's ooacean tak oor chance, + An' sink or swim. + + They mack sike wark amang yoong fooaks, + They breeak up all oor jovial spooarts, + They thin oor ranks, an' storm oor pooarts + Wi' strange confusion; + Ther's nowght bud we mun cry't all doon, + A mere delusion. + + Bud us 'at seldum hev attended, + They deeant git us seea eeasy mended, + An awd stiff yack 's nut eeasy bended, + That's varry true; + Bud thooase 'at winnut bend yoo see, + Mun breeak i' noo. + + They trifle on fra' yeear te yeear, + Like watches woorn oot ov repair, + Thof if they wad, its varry cleear, + They mud be mended; + Bud they perceeave neea danger neear, + Till life is ended. + + Awd Satan seea pollutes the maund, + They winnut stooap te t' means desaun'd. + Till t' hair spring gits wi't mainspring twain'd, + An seea hard curl'd, + They're foorc'd away te git refined + I' t'other warld. + + He leeads sum on like mountebanks, + As straight as thof they ran on planks, + An' tells 'em, i' ther jovial pranks, + He'll nut deceeave 'em;-- + Then oft on Jordan's stormy banks, + Ther cumforts leeave 'em. + + He leeads sum on another way, + An' whispers tiv 'em neeght an' day, + 'At they need nowther reead nor pray, + They've deean nowght wrang; + An' if they hev, he'll set it reeght, + Afoore 't be lang, + + Ther's others oft beean in alarm, + Bud Felix like, when t'heart wur warm, + Hez sed, "Go, an' sum other taame, + Ah'll send for thee;" + When they that taame, they didden't knaw + Mud ivver see. + + They rob thersels o' ther awn reeght, + They reeally winnut cum te t' leeght, + Lest o' ther sins they git a seeght, + An' sud be seeav'd; + An' be ov all ther plissures sweet, + At yance bereeav'd. + + Till deep sunk doon i' t' burning leeake + They then begin te feear an' queeake, + Where vengeance can neea pity teeake, + Which theer hez sent 'em, + An' furious feeinds i' horrid sheeape, + Mun theer torment 'em. + + They leeak for sum yan te deliver, + Bud theer they'll finnd neea cumfort nivver, + Theer they may weeap an' wail for ivver, + Ther harvest's past; + Ther summer's ended, refuge fails 'em, + An' they're lost. + + Ther dreeadful doom an' destiny, + Let us git all we can te flee, + By preeachin Christ where'er we be, + I' deead an' word, + Till all oor frinds ther folly see, + An' ton te God. + + "Ah beean i' t' way noo seeaven yeear," + An' as he spak, a briny teear + Ran doon his cheeks as crystal cleear, + Fra' owther ee; + "Thenk God, Ah feeal whahl Ah sit heer, + 'Tis weel wi' me. + + Bud neeght is cummin on ameean, + An't leeaks as if 'twur boon te reean, + Or else mah stoory's nut hawf deean, + 'At Ah'v te tell; + Bud mebby we may meeat ageean, + Till then, farewell!" + + Tho' he hed all thooase sorrows booarn, + Compozur in each feeature shooan, + Thof he'd te woark and live alooan, + Fra' day te day; + Ah wish'd his keease hed been mah awn, + An' com away. + + + + +AWD ISAAC. + +(PART SECOND.) + +TO WHICH IS ADDED, + +HIS DYING ADVICE. + + + Oft hev Ah lang'd yon hill te clim, + Te hev a bit mare prooase wi' him, + Wheas coonsel like a pleeasin dreeam, + Is deear te me; + Sin' roond the warld sike men as he + Seea few ther be. + + Corrupted bukes he did detest, + For his wur ov the varry best; + This meead him wiser than the rest + O' t' neeaburs roond, + Tho' poor i' t' purse, wi' senses blest, + An' judgment soond. + + Befoore the silvery neeght ov age, + The precepts ov the sacred page, + His meditation did engage, + That race te run; + Like thooase, who 'spite o' Satan's rage, + The praaze hed won. + + Bud noo his een's geean dim i' deeath, + Neea mare a pilgrim here on eearth, + His sowl flits fra' her shell beneeath, + Te reealms o' day, + Whoor carpin care, an' pain, an' deeath, + Are deean away. + + Wi'oot the author's neeame or leeave, + They'd put his stoory thruff the sieve, + An' roond his circuit set the screeve + O' justice keen, + Fra' crotchet cramp, or semibreeve, + Te sift him cleean. + + The charge 'at they ageenst him bring,-- + He harps teea mitch upon yah string, + Or triumphs like a lahtle king, + Ow'r fashions gay; + He's ower religious!--That's the thing + They meean te say. + + Yet still Awd Isaac tells his teeal, + Ower monny a weeary hill an' deeal, + An' 'll sumtaames into cities steeal, + Nor silent be; + Till infants try te lisp his theeame + Across the sea. + + Oor last, an' lasting interview, + His wonted theeame he did renew, + Fra' which, a paraphrase he drew, + An' thus began, + I' conversation clear, an' frindship true, + Like man te man. + + "Ah lahtle thowght, as weel thoo knaws, + Thoo te t' public wad expooase, + Mah awd gray cooat, wi' all its flaws, + An' stick an' all, + For want o' which, the aged prood + Seea offens fall. + + Ah varry leeatly gat a hint, + They'd put oor stoory into prent, + An' copies roond the coontry sent + Beeath left and reeght; + Bud if 'twur deean wi' gud intent, + Gud luck gang wi' 't. + + Noo all Ah sed wur meeant for gud, + If it wur reeghtly understud; + Te sum neea doot, t'language wud + Seeam quite abrupt;-- + We're all alike, ov flesh and bleead, + An' hearts corrupt. + + Fooaks oft leeaks mare at bleead an' breedin, + Than at t'subject they are reeadin, + An' thus awd prejudice is feedin, + I' system's narrow, + For want o' pains te crack the beean + Th'oft miss t'marrow. + + Men still i' spite ov all oor caution, + 'Ll hanker efter heeigh promotion; + Like Evan's Pills, or Rowland's Lotion + Saain'd by t'King; + We're seea inclin'd te self-devotion-- + That's the thing.! + + T' Naation still seeams discontent, + Ther's strange debeeates i' parliament, + Petitions on petitions sent + Theer, all implorin; + An' sum i' dungeons deep lament + Whahl they're snoorin. + + Still ower t'land t'clood hangs dull, + An' we may thrust, an' they may pull; + Wi' "Eys an' Nooas" the paper's full, + Wi' applause an' laughter: + An' all the gud for poor John Bull + 'S te cum hereafter. + + Still let us calmly wait the end, + On God, an' nut on man, depend. + Oor Nation's woond is bad te mend, + Ommost incurable! + His Israel he will still defend, + Wi' kindness durable. + + Bud numbers streeangely hev backslidden, + An' deean thooase things 'at wur forbidden, + An' caused His feeace for te be hidden, + By actions fowl, + Till scarce a ray ov whooap is left + Te cheer the sowl. + + T'coonsel Ah wad recommend + Is all te strave ther lives te mend, + An' persevere unto the end + I' word an' deed. + An' thooase 'll nivver want a Frind + I' t' taame o' need. + + Bud Ah mun cut mah stoory shoort, + Or it may mack the critics spoort, + Oor subject's ov too greeave a soort + Te dwell upon. + Afoore ye spreead yer next repoort, + Ah sal be geean. + + For sin' we met an' pearted last, + Ah finnd mah strenth decreeasing fast, + Like floor's beneeath the Nowthern blast, + Yance fresh an' gay, + Seea man is doom'd te droop an' waste, + An' fade away. + + Ah wad befoore Ah tack mah leave, + Te all, mah deein coonsel give, + An' if i' the truth they deea beleeave + Or apprehend, + That truth, whahl Ah'v a day te live + _Ah will defend_." + + + + +HIS DYING ADVICE. + + + When Eden's floory garden smiled, + Nor Eve the Sarpent hed beguil'd, + Man stood upreeght an' undefiled + I' maand an' feeature, + An' sweetest conversation held + Wi' his Creator. + + Bud when that awful monster sin + Hed gain'd its ugly entrance in + The warld, oor sorrows did begin; + Then Heaven froond, + An' t' glitt'ring swoord o' Justice gleeam'd + On all aroond. + + Sin spreead destruction wide, an' seean + Grim deeath began his feearful reign;-- + Satan wi' lees an' malice keen + Went teea an' fraw, + The frail, the noble sons o' men + Te owerthraw. + + Bud the Almighty sent his aid, + Enoch an' Abraham obey'd, + An' Noah, Job, an' Daniel pray'd, + An' Gideon too; + An' mighty fooas throo mighty faith + They did subdue. + + Then ancient Israel's altar's blazed, + An' solemn congregations gazed, + An' Holy men ther voices raaized, + An' trumpets soonded. + Then heathen armies stood amazed, + An' wur confoonded. + + Then Joshua congker'd i' the vale, + An' gud Elijah did prevail;-- + The wicked worshippers o' Baal + He owerthrew, + An' showed te them the living God + An' only true. + + An' while the sacrifice was pure, + Destruction com nut neegh ther door; + I' moont or tent they wur secure + By neeght or day; + Whahl thraving groups o' flocks an' herds, + Aroond 'em lay. + + They towght an' showed ther childer hoo + Ther Fathers kept ther solemn voo, + When the Almighty leead 'em throo + The desert land; + An' hoo thooase fell 'at wad nut boo + Te His command. + + An' seea sud we oor childer teeach, + An' i' ther ears gud doctrine preeach, + Befoore corrupt ideas reeach + The tender maand; + An' when they up te manhood graw, + The gud they'll finnd. + + Ey, tell 'em whea the sarpent stung, + Hoo Moses an' hoo Deborah sung, + An' hoo the Holy Hebrews yoong + Did walk throo fire; + An' try te tune ther infant tongues + Te David's lyre. + + Remind 'em ov a Saviour's love, + Leearn 'em the way God will approve, + Te pray, an' fix ther thowghts above + Eearth's fleeting joys, + Which at ther best, when tried 'll proov, + Bud empty toys. + + Consult the worthies ov' each age, + Wheas lives are doon i't' sacred page, + Nor rest till all the heart engage + Like them i' feight. + Then we like them oor hostile fooas, + Sal put te flight. + + Te us they as examples stand, + As guide-poosts in a weeary land, + Or like seea monny beeacons grand, + On mountains heeigh, + Te shoo the way Jehovah's plann'd; + Or deeanger neeigh. + + Bud men graw noo seea warldly wise, + Seea prooan te vanity an' lies, + T'best o' coonsel they'll despise, + Seea queer they live, + They'll scarce a proper question ax, + Or answer give. + + Mankind i' gen'ral can espy, + The mooat 'at's in anoother's eye, + An' big an' busy as Paul Pry, + 'Ll mark it doon;-- + It helps fra' silly passers by + Te hide ther awn. + + Theer's numbers seeams o' t' better soort, + Aroond oor chapels still resoort, + An' o' convarsion mack a spoort, + An' sins forgeean, + An' at the truly pious shoot, + Ther arrows keen. + + Bud the Almighty sees ther ways, + An' thof he lenthens oot ther days, + An' his just rath he noo delays, + 'Tis seer te cum; + The stootest o' the human race, + Mun meet ther doom. + + Ey, when ther jolly days are spent, + If they i' taame deea nut repent, + They'll seerly doon te hell be sent + Te revell theer, + Te curse, an' fooam, an' pay ther rint + I' black despair. + + Freeat nut thysel when thoo doast see + The wicked i' prosperity, + Te floorish like a green bay tree, + Or cedar tall; + He like a leeaf, by firm decree, + Mun feeade an' fall! + + Consider thoo what hez beean sed, + An' o' ther threeats be nut afraaid, + Beware lest thoo sud be betray'd + By ther deceit;-- + An' t'Lord gie thee, an' nut upbreead, + His Sperit's leeght!" + + The coontry's all anxiety, + Te knaw Awd Isaac's pedigree, + An' sum cry oot 'tis all a lee, + A meead up thing;-- + Te sike we think it nut woth whahl, + Oor proofs te bring. + + For all that wish te knaw--may read, + The sum an' substance ov his creed;-- + May catch, an' saw the lahtle seed + Wi' greeat success. + Bud whoor he liv'd, or whoor he deed, + 'Tis left te guess. + + + + +DIALOGUE ON A STEEPLE CHASE + +AT P******NG, IN YORKSHIRE. + + +_Joe._--Weel Jim, hoo deea lad? What's t' news? + Which side is thoo on? Pinks or Blues? + Heer's sike a mighty stir i' t' nation, + 'Tis woth a lahtle conversation. + Ah want te knaw, is't reeght or wrang;-- + Unless thah nerves is varry strang, + Ah hev a paper i' mah pocket, + 'Ll lift thah heart oot ov its socket! + +_Jim._--A paper Joe! What is 't aboot, + Sum munney matter, ther's neea doot! + Sum Methodey or Ranter bother, + Or sum Tee-total thing or other. + Yan scarce can pass alang a street, + Bud sum sike like yan's seer te meet, + Whea'd ommost sweear 'at black is white, + Te gain anoother proselyte, + +_Joe._--A munney matter 'tis o' coorse, + Fra' quite an opposition soorce, + For by the Liverpool Recorder, + 'Tis mare o' the Succession order: + For it is sed by snug repoort, + Religious fooaks hev geen 't support. + That which we noo te nooatice bring, + Ist' Steeple Chase at P******ng. + +_Jim._--Whah Joe, thoo's neean o' t' warst o' fellows, + Cum sit thee doon a piece an' tell us, + If thoo sud think it neea disgrace, + Aboot this mighty Steeple Chase; + Ov hoo, an' when, an' whoor they run, + For honour, munney, or for fun. + Thoo's just geen me an itchin eear, + Aboot the thing Ah wish'd te heear. + +_Joe._--Thoo sees upon a sarten day, + Ah hennut seen, but heeard 'em say; + Greeat gentlemen hev hosses treean'd, + Fra' lofty pedigree obteean'd, + Seea full o' bleead, an' queerly towght, + Te gallop thruff or ower owght: + All muster at a sarten pleeace, + An' this they call the Steeple Chase. + A purse o' Gold they then present, + An' word is thruff the coontry sent, + For fower mahle, Ah think they run, + An' he 'at beeats,--the steeaks his awn. + Sum breeaks ther necks, wi' missin bridges, + An' sum gits stuck, wi' jumpin hedges. + Ey, te confarm t' truth Ah sing, + They kill'd a hoss at P******ng. + +_Jim._--Wha Joe, thoo quite supprises me, + Te think 'at men ov heeigh degree, + Sud reeally hev neea mare respect + For owther men's or hosses necks. + +_Joe._--A boss is nowght i' sike a keease! + Bairn! sowls is nowght at t' Steeple Chase! + They for a trifle swap an' sell 'em, + An' t' parsons hezzen't sense te tell 'em. + T' Steeple Chase is suted quite, + Te glut t' carnal appetite. + Thooase whea ther Baable love, an' preear, + 'Ll finnd bud bareish picking theer. + +_Jim._--Maund Joe, thoo izzen't ower severe, + An' 'at thah coonsel be sincere. + The Law hez monny curious links, + Man mooan't speeak awlus as he thinks. + Thof Ah me-sel feel shock'd te think, + Men sud seea rush on ruin's brink: + Mitch mare te be encouraged in, + What mun be a presumptuous sin. + +_Joe._--The mare Ah see this standard reeas'd, + The mare an' mare Ah stand ameeaz'd + Te think 'at parsons cannut see't, + An' tell 'em pleean it izzen't reeght! + 'At men sike tidings sud procleeam, + An' thooase 'at beear t'Christian neeame + I' spite ov all divine advice, + Te sanction sike a sweepin vice. + +_Jim._--Whativver be t'satisfaction, + It hez a woonderful attraction; + An' macks 'em freely use ther shanks, + 'Specially them o' t' heeigher ranks, + Fra' Scarbro', Malton, York, an' Leeds, + They cum on lofty mounted steeds, + Ower dazzlin ommost te behold, + Wi' silver'd whips, an' cheeans o' gold. + Theer's bands o' music, colours flying, + Hams, an' legs o' mutton frying, + Nimble waiters on the wing, + Te see 'em drink, an' hear 'em sing, + Ther's gamlin teeables, orange stalls, + Ther's spices, nuts, an' dancin dolls. + All things te sute the carnal taste, + May just be foond at t' Steeple Chase. + +_Joe._--Thooase men hes gitten 't i' ther power + Regardless o' the sufferin poor, + Te gallop ower hedge an' dyke, + An' deea an' say, just what they like. + An' all the while they run these rigs, + An' sing, an' drink, an' dance ther jigs, + They'll booast o' noble ancestry, + An' mighty steeple pedigree! + If onny wish the cause te knaw, + Whah they are able te deea seea,-- + "'Tis munney macks the meer te gang, + Macks wrang seeam reeght, an' reeght seeam wrang." + +_Jim._--The thing sud be te them meead knawn, + Ther gold an' silver's nut ther awn. + Ther cattle they abuse an' kill, + Belangs to t'Lord o' Zion's hill. + They sud be warn'd i' ivvery pleeace, + Te gie up sike like wicked ways. + Or seer as theer's a God aboon, + They'll pull ther awn destruction doon. + +_Joe._--They hev been warn'd an' hev refus'd, + Whahl thooase gud things they hev abus'd; + By which abuse they breeak God's Law, + An' that he'll sum day let 'em knaw. + This maks 'em breeathe pernicious breeath, + An' swagger on the verge o' deeath, + Whahl oothers--rayther than control, + 'Ll breeak ther necks, an' loss ther sowl. + +_Jim._--A man tell'd me by way o' jooak, + Bud kind o' trimmel'd as he spooak, + They'd Doctors pleeaced wi'in a shoot, + Te slip necks in, 'at gat slipt oot.[A] + +_Joe._--It's awful booastin this indeed,-- + Bad sample o' beeath fruit an' seed. + Sike may upbraad the warld wi' sizm, + It is next deer te Socialism. + Sike booastin they will sum day rue, + If we admit the Baable true. + All thooase mun pass a mighty change, + Afoore the happy hills they range!-- + Bud tiv oor teeal let us ton back, + Lest we get farther fra' oor track. + The day arrives, the smiling sun, + Procleeams the Steeple Chase begun. + On eeager eears the tumult steeals, + Ov prancin steeds, an' rumblin wheels. + It wur a day ov winks an' nods, + Ov lofty deeds, an' lofty wods. + As thof they hed for ther defence! + The thunner ov Omnipotence! + T' fooaks com rowlin in by skoors, + Fra' neeab'rin toons, an' off o' t' moors. + Like cloods ov locusts in they hale, + Fra' Goadland, Sleights, an' Harwood Dale. + 'Tis seerly sum enchanted string, + That does sike croods tegither bring. + Like bees, they roond the steeple swarm, + In it they likely see neea harm. + +_Jim._--Neea harm! What harm, Joe, can there be, + I' seeing sike a rarity:-- + Ov men an' hosses heeighly fed, + Wi' priests an' squires at ther head; + Ov gentlemen, an' ladies gay, + As bonny as the floors i' May. + Theer riches, yooth, an' beauty shine, + Array'd i' silk, an' superfine. + An' farmers' maidens, yoong an' fair, + We wonder hoo they've taame te spare; + Wi' lads ov manners rough an' rude, + All mixing i' yah multitude. + An' poor awd men, 'at scarce can blaw, + Wi' beards an' whiskers white as snaw; + Sad sample ov oor fallen race, + All rollin up to t' Steeple Chase. + An' farmers' sarvants leeave ther pleugh, + Callin ther maister black an' blue, + Whea for ther credit an' ther neeame, + Hed coonsel'd them te stay at heeame. + Ah met 'em as Ah com alang, + (They wonder'd whah Ah waddn't gang,) + Wi' roosy cheeks, an' shoothers brooad, + Bettin weagers up o' t' rooad. + Ther leeaks an' words at yance declare, + Ther treasure an' ther hearts are theer. + If yah contrary sentence drop, + That mooth they quickly try te stop. + When roond the splendid stand they meet, + 'Twad deea a blinnd man gud te see't; + Besaads the men's seea faanly drist! + The Steeple Chase,--whah whea wad miss't? + +_Joe._--Fra' furst te last it is desaun'd, + Te pleease an' fascinate the maand; + Te lift it, as on eagle's wings, + An' draave off thowghts o' better things. + The stewards full o' wardly wit, + Pronoonce 'at all things noo are fit, + When thoosands then roll up te see, + As drawn by Steeple witchery. + Fra' whence they cum, or whoor they dwell, + If yoo've a paper it 'll tell. + Ye ken the horses whea's they are, + By t' colours 'at ther riders wear. + Thus whether i' the rooad or noa, + Wi' whip an' spur away they goa; + Ower hedge an' dyke,--there's nowght can stop 'em, + Unless an angry God unprop em. + Thus riding ower grass, or coorn + 'Ats growin,--or 'ats leeatly sown, + There's neean dare lift a hand, or say, + What hev ye deean, or whea's te pay, + Whahl oaths profane, an' lafter lood, + Are utter'd by the gaping crood;-- + By some whea yance religion luv'd, + Not only sanction'd, bud appruv'd! + If ivv'ry ward an' secret thowght, + Mun be yan day te judgment browght, + Oh, how unlike sike wark as this, + Is that which leads te glorious bliss! + Te see 'em thus seea blithe an' merry, + Wur famous pastaame for Awd Harry. + If owght te him cud be delighting, + 'Twad be to see 'em drunk an' feighting. + He popt aboot amang t' people, + At last he popt up on to't steeple, + Open'd a pair ov dismal jaws, + Flapt his black wings, an' yawn'd applause: + Like sum prood Emperor ov awd, + Upon the wether cock he rode, + 'Whoor he mud all at yance survey, + The grand proceedings ov the day. + A flagstaff for a whip he seized, + An' spurr'd the spire he wur seea pleeased, + Te think it sud his cause defend, + An' that his bait hed answer'd t'end. + +_Jim._--Tis not for thee te criticise, + On men seea greeat, seea rich, seea wise, + They aim, neea doot, as weel as thee, + Te gang te heeaven when they dee. + What thof ther munney be bud lent, + Thoo knaws 'at munney mun be spent. + Besaads they hev example too,-- + If t' _parson's_ theer--What's that te thoo? + +_Joe._--If thooase sud miss ther passage heeame, + A careless priesthood they may bleeame. + Blinnd guides they are, an' t'Kirk's ther moother, + An' they wean't gang te hear neea other. + We Christians run a diff'rent race, + Te what we call the Steeple Chase. + Besaads we finnd i' Holy writ, + Ther's neean cums theer 'at are nut fit. + +_Jim._--Thoo meeans te proove by argument, + Thooase 'at cums theer mun first repent, + An' be throo Jesus Christ forgiven, + Afoore they're i' the rooad te heaven. + Neea carnal plissure they mun share, + Bud live a life ov faith an' prayer. + If thooase alone hev saving grace, + Doon gangs at yance the Steeple Chase. + +_Joe._--Seea legions fell fra' leeght te dark, + Seea Dagon fell afoore the ark, + Seea God prood Pharaoh owerthrew, + Wi' Sisera, an' Goliath too. + Seea fell the lords i' sad supprise, + Wheas hands hed put out Samson's eyes. + Thooase mighty men wur turn'd te dust, + An' seean the Steeple Chasers must. + +_Jim._--Whah, Joe, it caps me fair te ken, + Hoo thooase heeigh flying gentlemen, + Can fra' ther chasing gang te t' kirk, + An' join i't' blessed Sunday's wooark, + Singing wi' all ther might an' main, + This heaven inspir'd, this holy strain, + "Let all thy converse be sincere, + "Thy conscience as the noon-day clear, + "For God's all seeing eye surveys + "Thy secret thoughts, thy works and ways;"-- + An' then fra' t' kirk te t' Steeple Chase, + An' set at nowght God's luv an' grace, + Call t'dissenters, an' shoot thruff t'nation, + For "_Apostolical succession_!" + +_Joe._--Te bring oor converse te a close, + Oor only aim is te expose, + The thing Almighty God doth hate,-- + Nut te provoke unkind debate. + The day's nut far 'at will reveal + The truth, an' fix the final seal. + Sum may when its teea late te rue, } + Finnd what they hoped wur false--is _true_ } + Consarning everlasting woe! } + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] It was a saying of one of the Riders, that he carried two or three +loose necks in his pocket, in case anything happened to his own. + + + + +THE LUCKY DREEAM, OR AN AWD THING RENEWED. + + + Yah Kesenmas neeght, or then aboot, + When meeasons all wur frozen oot, + Ah went te see a coontry frind, + An hospitable hoor te spend. + For gains Ah cut across at moor, + Whoor t'snaw seea furiously did stour:-- + The hoose Ah geean'd, an' enter'd in, + An' wor as welcome as a king. + The stoorm ageean t'winder patter'd, + An' hailsteeans doon t'chimler clatter'd, + All hands wur in, an' seeam'd content, + An' neean did frost or snaw lament. + T'lasses all wur at ther sowing, + Ther cheeks wi' health an' beauty glowing. + Aroond the heearth in cheerful chat + Twea'r three frindly neeaburs sat; + Ther travels telling,--whoor they'd been, + An' what they hed beeath heeard an' seen; + Till yan us all did mitch amuse, + An' thus a stoory introduce. + "Ah recollect lang sin," sez he, + "A stoory that wur tell'd te me, + 'At seeams seea straange i' this oor day, + That true or false Ah cannut say. + A man liv'd in this neybourheead, + Neea doot ov reputation gud, + An' lang taame strave w' stiddy care, + Te keep his hooshod i' repair. + At length he hed a curious dreeam, + For three neeghts runnin 'twur the seeam; + 'At if on Lunnon Brigg he stood, + He'd heear sum news wad deea him gud. + He labour'd hard, beeath neeght an' day, + Tryin te draave thooase thowghts away, + Yet daily grew mare discontent, + Till he at last te Lunnon went! + Being quite a stranger te that toon, + Lang taame he wander'd up an' doon, + Till led by sum mysterious hand, + On Lunnon Brigg he teeak his stand; + An' theer he waited day by day, + An' just wur boon te cum away, + Seea mitch he thowght he wur te bleeam, + Te gang seea far aboot a dreeam, + When thus a man, as he drew neear, + Did say, "Good friend, what seek you here, + Where I have seen you soon and late?" + His dreeam te him he did relate. + "Dreams," sez the man, "are empty things, + Mere thoughts that flit on silver'd wings; + Unheeded we should let them pass:-- + I've had a dream, and thus it was, + That somewhere round this peopled ball, + There's such a place as Lealholm Hall; + Yet whether such a place there be, + Or not, is all unknown to me. + There in a cellar, dark and deep, + Where slimy creatures nightly creep, + And human footsteps never tread, + There is a store of treasure hid. + If it be so, I have no doubt, + Some lucky wight will find it out: + Yet so or not, is nought to me, + For I shall ne'er go there to see!" + The man did slyly twice or thrice, + The cockney thenk for his advice, + Then heeame ageean wi'oot delay, + He cheerfully did tak his way, + An' set aboot the wark, an' sped, + Fund ivv'ry thing, as t' man hed sed, + Wur ivver efter seen te floorish, + T'finest gentleman i' all the parish. + Fooaks wonder'd sare, an' weel they meeght, + Whoor he gat all his ginnes breeght! + If it wur true, in spite ov feeame, + Te him it wor a lucky dreeam. + + + + +A STRANGE EFFUSION, + +OR + +WESLEYANISM AT EASBY, + +IN THE STOKESLEY CIRCUIT: + + _Written when the Methodists were deprived of the place of + worship in which they had been accustomed to meet._ + + + They're wakken'd at Easby, the Lord is amang 'em, + Thof turn'd oot o' t' temple 'at used te belang 'em, + Anoother we whooap afoore lang 'll be beelt, + Whoor sinners thruff Christ may hev pardon for guilt. + T' Lord seems te oppen a way out afoore 'em, + Thof neybourin lions hev aim'd te devoor 'em. + When t'awd maister mariner fail'd at the helm, + They thowght it wad all the consarn owerwhelm; + An' when they appear'd ov all succour bereft, + They endeeavour'd te freeghten t' few 'at wur left. + Bud the Lord wur detarmin'd te be ther protection, + Te send 'em suppoort, an' gie 'em direction; + If nobbut, like monny, they wadden't betray him, + Bud stick te that text, beeath te luv an' obey him. + They can't be content wi' ther steeple opinions, + Bud they mun mack inrooads on others' dominions; + Thof theers be in gen'ral the fat an' the wealthy, + For t'want of gud physic, they seldom are healthy. + Hoo strange 'at they sud sike fair temples erect, + Te murder the sowls in--they're swoorn te protect! + Bud stranger they'll finnd it o' yon side the fleead, + Wi' ther hands an' ther garments all stain'd i' ther bleead! + We needn't te wonder they mack sike a fuss, + Ther craft is i' danger fra' rebels like us:-- + For God can mack preeachers--hoo feearful the thowght-- + Fra' cobblers, or meeasons, or blacksmiths, or owght! + O yes! Dr. Pusey may whet his awd grinders, + An' put on his captives ther fetters an' blinders; + Ther's poor men iv Easby 'at ken his awd sang, + An' see the defect ov beeath him an' his gang. + He may scare 'em wi' taxes, wi' rates, an' oppression, + All thooase whea are oot o' the line o' succession, + Thof te prove 'at _he's_ in't, he's a varry poor chance, + Unless he unite wi' the Romans at yance. + Then t' Romans wad help him, an' think it all reeght, + Te murder Dissenters, an' put oot ther leeght; + Te cut 'em i' pieces, te butcher an' bon 'em, + Bud till that's the keease they cannut owerton 'em! + Nur Stowsley, nur Yatton, ther frinds will invite, + Nur Skelton, nur Brotton, ther efforts unite; + They'll finnd te ther mortification an' pain, + They hev fowght wi' t' wind, an' hev labour'd i' vain! + + + + +LEALHOLM BRIDGE. + +A SOLILOQUY DURING A VISIT, AFTER SOME YEARS' ABSENCE. + + + Ah, lovely Lealholm! Where shall I begin, + To say what thou art now, and once hast been? + Once the dear seat of all my earthly joys, + That now, in recollection only, rise! + Methinks, where'er I look no life appears, + But all the place a cheerless aspect wears; + Thy groves are desolate, thy swains are fled, + And many of them number'd with the dead; + Religion 's cold, the poor are sore oppress'd, + Thy orphans weep, and widows are distress'd. + O let us pray their griefs may shortly end, + And God, their Father, still may prove their friend. + This ancient Bridge some faint idea brings, + Where still the swallow comes and dips her wings; + The murmuring river, and the rumbling mill, + Bear some resemblance to poor Lealholm still; + Yon silent whirlpool beautifies the scene, + Where shades of trees are in its deepness seen, + Where leaping fishes on the surface play, + And gladly seems to close, the summer's day; + The broken waters from yon glen resound, + Their constant rippling 's heard the village round; + Yon burden'd iron pinion loudly shrieks, + While tears of oil hang on his rusty cheeks; + The greedy race, the water still supplies, + The lofty wheel's broad shelves successive rise; + The thund'ring engine doth her hands employ, + And Hunter's place is fill'd by William Joy; + The floating bubble swims upon the wave, + While Ord[B] lies mould'ring in the silent grave; + Behind yon hill the sun escapes from sight, + And yields his empire to the shades of night. + Alas! Poor Lealholm once in glory shone, + But now, she like a widow, sits alone! + Once from yon town the people flock'd like bees, + To taste the sweetness of the country breeze; + Pedestrians joyful, here and there were seen, + While shays and whiskeys deck'd her level green; + The banks of Esk, were crowded all along, + Either with Anglers, or with lookers on. + The full "Moon,"[C] then did through her valleys shine, + So bright, some thought she never would decline; + Year after year she in her sphere did move, + And all seem'd animation, life, and love: + But now, in mists and gloom she disappears, + Eclips'd--her light no longer Lealholm cheers! + Pluck'd from her orb, her borrow'd lustre's fled, + And in the silent tomb, she rests her head. + In distant lands my father's lot was cast, + And we were left to feel the bitter blast. + Death's fatal hand its victim did arrest, + And tore him from the darlings of his breast. + I, by a mother's care, when young was led, + Down by the river to yon primrose bed, + Where birds so sweetly sung the trees among, + I thought those days were happy, bright, and long. + Oft I, a boy, with others of my age, + Did eager here in youthful sports engage. + Oft in yon wood we rov'd when life was new, + The rocks, and trees and rugged caves to view; + Where woodbines wild, with sweets perfum'd the air, + And all seem'd joyous, beautiful, and fair. + Alas! where's now the grove? The trees are gone! + And many the wide ocean are upon: + A few remaining springers yet survive, + And keep their owner's name and place alive! + Just so it is with us, could we but see, + Our fathers who are in eternity! + Their offspring live, but they're for ever gone, + Their portion's fixed, no more will they return! + May we be wise, and lessons learn afresh, + To trust no longer in an arm of flesh!-- + Begin to seek, and rest not till we find + The peace of God, which satisfies the mind. + Then seeing all my earthly joys are fled, + Where, O my soul! art thou for succour led? + 'Tis Jesus, that can all thy wants supply, + A fountain 's there which never will run dry: + Arabia's grove, nor Sharon's flowery field, + Such rich perfume, such holy incense yield: + 'Tis Jesus' merit, and his dying love, + 'Tis these perfume the glorious courts above! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[B] The Mill was built by Mr. Ord. + +[C] Mrs. Moon, landlady of the Public House, who died during the +Author's absence. + + + + +OLD SAM! + +OR + +THE EFFECTS OF THE GOSPEL. + + + Attend, all ye who Zion's tidings love, + Whose hearts and hopes are fix'd on things above, + Whose chief delight is centred in the fame, + Of signs and wonders wrought through Jesus' name;-- + All ye who virtue love, and evil hate, + Attend, while I a simple tale relate. + A preacher being to a village sent, + To warn and woo the people to repent; + Depending only on God's mighty grace, + His pious soul was looking for success. + For God, his people had a house prepared, + In which his arm had many times been bared, + And in that little village congregation, + Were found some earnest seekers of salvation. + Among the rest a noted Bruiser stood, + Whose hands had oft been stain'd with human blood; + A man of constitution so robust, + He oft had laid Goliaths in the dust. + He fully on the preacher fix'd his eye, + But scarcely could declare the reason why; + The subject, and the theme on which he dwelt, + Caught his attention, and its force he felt. + He thought the preacher all his actions knew, + His words, like arrows, pierc'd his conscience through; + His spirits fell, his heart was sick and sore, + Such anguish he had never felt before. + It seem'd to him as if an angel spoke, + He felt within as if his heart was broke, + He thought he heard mount Sinai's thunder roll, + Which shook the very centre of his soul! + Such mighty strokes soon humbled all his pride, + He sank condemn'd, and loud for mercy cried. + "What shall I do?" said he, "Nay, who can tell? + Oh! how shall I escape the pit of Hell?" + On bended knees he did salvation seek, + Big tears roll'd down his long undaunted cheek:-- + The people pray'd, the sinner wept the more,-- + This man, who till that hour, ne'er wept before. + After a time his mighty anguish ceas'd, + The Lord of life his captive soul releas'd! + The joy he felt he scarcely could contain, + The people sung--"a sinner's born again!" + Some time elaps'd--two of his mates had met, + As custom was, and in a tavern sat, + Conversing on events that daily pass'd, + Till one the other thus address'd at last. + "Heard you not what occurred the other day? + Old Sam has been converted, people say!" + "Old Sam!" the other says, with great surprise, + "What Sam, the Boxer?" "Yes!" the other cries! + "Depend upon't, though you may think it strange, + But in old Sam there is a wondrous change!" + "Nay,--he converted! Pshaw! 'tis all a whim; + They've just as much converted me as him; + And I can find a man, I have no doubt, + That soon will beat all his religion out." + "Perhaps not so," the other softly said, + "I think Old Sam 's of better mettle made, + I know that he was always bad to bend, + And on his firmness I will still depend." + The other rose, and would a wager bet, + Old Sam was not so far converted yet, + But that if pick'd at, he would turn again, + And still he would the bloody cause maintain. + To Sammy's door their way direct they took, + For he had now the tavern's haunts forsook; + They call'd a rebel out to lead the van, + To vex and aggravate the poor old man. + At length they reach'd, and rattled at the door, + Standing around, like lions to devour + His happy soul; but he had by his side, + King David's faithful Shepherd for his guide. + Old Sammy from his Bible reading rose, + And straightway forth to meet the rebel goes; + "Here's one," say they, "will fight for what you like!" + He stamp'd, and raged, and dared old Sam to strike; + Sam look'd and smiled, as he before him stood, + Then shook his head, thinking the cause not good; + At length his flaming passion to control, + He cries, "The Lord have mercy on thy soul! + Thy case I pity, O thou man of might, + Although this practice once was my delight; + Calm thy fierce rage, and to old Sam attend, + Before destruction prove thy awful end. + I clearly see the spirit thou art in, + For I myself oft in the same have been; + And many a one like thee I've made to bend, + And brought their boasting valour to an end. + 'Tis well for thee that I'm another man, + Or thou wouldst rue the day that this began; + I soon should settle all thy boasts and brags, + And make thy bones fall rattling on the flags! + Thou mayst thank God, whose power and grace divine, + Have chang'd this proud, rebellious heart of mine; + The love I feel to thee forbids the blow, + Which soon would lay thy boasting prowess low. + Restrain thy passion, give old Sam thine hand, + Be thankful that thou dost before him stand; + Go tell the men whom once I did adore, + Their wager's lost, old Sam will fight no more; + Tell them to save their money for their wives, + Give up their folly, and reform their lives; + To go and seek salvation while they may, + Before the wrath of God drives them away!" + Sam's noble speech so satisfied them all, + That not one there durst him a coward call. + "Although the wager 's fairly lost," say they, + "We all must own old Sam hath won the day!" + Now Sammy like a warrior stout and bold, + Seeks new companions, and forsakes the old; + While shouts of praise his ravish'd ears surround, + He hears, and understands, the joyful sound! + Yes, Sammy has a better master now, + And more substantial friends to deal with too; + Secure he leans on his Redeemer's breast, + And sweetly sings himself away to rest. + + + + +THOUGHTS ON GOOD FRIDAY: + + Occasioned by seeing two "_Sinkers_" dragged out of a Coal Pit; + one of them killed, the other dreadfully wounded. At a short + distance, a busy crowd were preparing their tents and posts for + the approaching races, on Easter Monday and Tuesday. On + mentioning the fatal occurrence, and naming the day, a + bystander exclaimed, "O, Good Friday is nought!" + + + The morning sun shone dim, as if in pain, + To see that day by man so soon despised. + The feather'd choirs did heedless man reprove, + Who had more cause than they, with early song + To greet the morn, on which their Saviour bled. + Alas! that man should e'er forget his love! + Down, down the pit, the cheerful sinkers went, + Nor grief, nor fear through all the gloom appear'd; + Though at the bottom deep, grim death sat shrouded + In horrid features, measuring their minutes! + Foul was the air, and bad;--they saw him not, + Nor dream'd he was so near, nor held dispute, + On which the lot might fall, to be his victim:-- + When suddenly, through wanton carelessness, + Or the just judgment of an angry God, + The kibble kick'd, brim full of splinter'd rock! + Down fell at once his ponderous instrument, + Full thirty fathom, whizzing as it went! + Beneath its heavy crash a victim fell, + And groan'd, nor ceas'd, till he had groan'd his last. + Then from behind the scene the monster stept, + And with his bony fingers hurl'd his dart: + Its point another touch'd, but not so deep. + Forth from the pit I saw the sufferers dragg'd, + I heard deep groans, and saw their mangled flesh. + The former then with grief was quick interr'd, + The other a poor halting cripple lives. + Where's now the man that says "Good Friday's nought?" + With accidents like this, God's swift judgments, + I could, if 'twere requested, fill these sheets; + But to the man who thinks, and judges right, + This may suffice. And is Good Friday nought? + Is that day nought on which our Saviour bled, + To buy our pardon, to save by suff'ring! + Open salvation's fount for crimson crimes, + And wash, and make us guilty lepers clean? + Alas for man! He sees, he feels it not! + Of old, men saw, and felt it, though far off. + The martyrs saw, own'd, and observ'd it too, + In fasting, prayer, and self-denial; + This made them march, when call'd, with holy joy, + To meet the dagger's point, or burning stake. + The earth once felt, and felt to her foundations; + The marble mountain felt, and quak'd, and shiver'd; + The sun felt, and grew dark; the heavens wept, + And hell beneath, in dismal groanings howl'd! + The serpent felt,--and still feels in his bruis'd head. + The Saviour!--Yes, the King of Glory felt, + In that sad cup his subjects should have drunk:-- + Both in the temple, and the wilderness, + The street, the judgment hall,--in Pilate's scourge, + In cruel mockings, and the scarlet robe! + He felt it too beneath the rugged wood, + When He fatigued climb'd Calvary's steep brow! + He felt it in the hammer and the nails + That pierc'd his flesh, though he offended not! + He felt it in the reed, and crown of thorns! + He felt it in the hyssop, vinegar, and gall, + In strange upbraidings, and the soldier's spear! + He felt it in that mighty crush, which should, + And would have crush'd, his guilty murderers. + He felt it till his mortal part expir'd! + He feels it yet, and so do his disciples: + But the proud stiff-neck'd sinner feels it not;-- + Perverse, he _will not_, yet one day he shall! + Though he at present, feast and garnish out + His wife's, or children's birth days, and his own, + With songs, and cards, and music, and the dance, + Yet this, like Job's day, shall be blotted out! + Though he _will not_, yet he shall regard it, + When God appears in majesty, and power, + Arm'd with thunder-bolts, and chariots of fire, + On all his foes to pour his vengeance! + Yes! All men then will wish to be his friends. + E'en those who have his words and grace despis'd, + Will wish their lives were to begin again!-- + "Whither, O, whither shall the guilty flee, + When consternation turns the good man pale!" + + + + +TO A WITHERED FLOWER! + + + Withering Flower, upbraid me not! + Why cast on me that look so pale? + Why dost thou my attention court, + To listen to thy mournful tale? + Why bow thy head? Why bend thy neck? + Why look so drooping, wan, and cold? + To give my careless thoughts a check,-- + And tell me _I_ am getting old! + + Fading Flower, upbraid me not! + Still nodding with the gentle breeze. + Or dost thou think I have forgot, + I too am wasting by degrees? + For scarce can I believe my sight, + Who lately saw thee fresh and gay; + That beauty could so early blight, + Or such fresh colours fade away! + + Drooping Flower, upbraid me not! + But turn to Sol's enlivening ray. + I in some climate cold or hot, + Must also sicken and decay! + Nay, why dost thou shake off thy leaf, + And show thy heart so fair and clean? + But mine to smite with inward grief,-- + To feel the many plagues within. + + Weeping Flower, upbraid me still! + For half the conquest thou hast gain'd. + Yes! listen to thy tale I will, + Until its meaning be explain'd. + Fair emblem thou of human life; + In thee its changing tints are seen; + Our visit here, so frail and brief, + Is painted in those tints of thine! + + When in thy bud so rich and gay, + Thou did'st escape the spoiler's hand + That would have reft thy charms away, + 'Twas pity check'd--and let thee stand! + While cherish'd by the blushing fair, + And waving on thy hardy stem, + Thy fragrance rich, perfum'd the air,-- + Thou'rt blasted now to me and them! + + Unlike to thee, whose task is done, + When Man shall quit this vale of tears, + After this life's short glass is run, + Man shall exist in nobler spheres. + All earthly glories fade away, + So transient and so insecure; + With us, alas, how short's their stay! + Prefigur'd by a dying Flower! + + Yet we have cause to bless the day, + If weary of a life mispent, + By this thy exit, any may + Be led to ponder, and repent. + Thou transient teller of the truth, + May he who bids, and thunders roll, + Forgive the follies of my youth, + And stamp thy lesson on My soul! + + + + +THE COUNTRY LOVE FEAST. + + (_Held in an old Barn, Farndale, Yorkshire._) + + + Sing, O my muse, in praise of Zion sing, + In praise of those who her glad tidings bring, + In praise to Him who left the courts above, + To manifest to us his Father's love! + Celestial powers, my heart and voice inspire, + If such a worm as I can feel your heav'nly fire; + To such a theme, to such a noble song, + Sublimer strains than I can reach belong. + Glory to God, whose mercy and free grace, + Are not confin'd to either time or place, + To bless, and save the fallen sons of men, + To cleanse believers, and to pardon sin. + O what an humble, yet exalted place, + Where Christians meet, the great I AM to praise. + A Barn!--A Temple! what a place is this! + Emblem of heav'n, and type of future bliss! + An earthen floor serves us on which to tread, + The roof is cover'd with the spider's web:-- + To such is man's best righteousness compar'd, + By which full many a lofty head's ensnar'd. + No crimson pews distinguish rich from poor, + No brass inscriptions glitter on the floor, + No marble monuments adorn the wall, + No polish'd altars where men prostrate fall, + No tapestry doth hang the pulpit round, + No costly vaults are in this temple found, + No pealing organ's note delights the ear, + But what is better far,--our God is here! + Wherever two or three sincerely meet, + Who have towards Zion's city turn'd their feet, + 'Tis there our God himself vouchsafes to be, + To bind the strong, and set the prisoner free. + The world's applause we cheerfully disdain, + And shelter here from company profane. + For as we differ, 'tis by Jesus' grace, + And 'tis His presence dignifies the place. + Before us here the bread of life is spread, + Behind are stalls where now the ox is fed. + Like that in Bethlehem where Jesus lay, + This stable now beholds a glorious day! + Here Pilgrims meet their travels to relate, + And when, and where they enter'd mercy's gate. + They tell us how their eyes with tears did fill, + When unbelief was wilful of its will. + They tell us how their sins did them oppress, + And fill'd their inmost souls with deep distress; + And how the Lord their burden did remove, + Pardon'd their sins, and fill'd their hearts with love. + They all rejoice to see each other's face, + To hear each prospers in the work of grace. + With one consent their cheerful hearts aspire, + And ecstasies of joy their bosoms fire. + Such times as these we think too soon are gone, + Our happy souls cemented into one! + We pray, and part, each to his distant home, + And still we cry, "Lord, let thy kingdom come!" + Both far and near his Kingdom doth extend, + Temples are rising both by sea and land. + The Bethel flag, high waving in the air, + Calls seamen to engage in praise and prayer, + Whole streets, reform'd, the great assembly join, + Speak with new tongues, and sing in songs divine. + Poor trembling sinners wipe their watery eyes, + And lamentations pierce the bowing skies! + Blasphemers fall beneath the power of God, + And statesmen flock to hear his Holy Word; + While some of them a portion find to spare, + Waste Zion's walls and bulwarks to repair. + See golden prospects round us rise, + See the dejected raise their downcast eyes, + The liberated captives shout applause + To Zion's King, and his victorious cause! + + + + +ODE TO BRITAIN. + + + Shine, Britain! Shine! Thy virtues we commend; + Thy light to distant nations shall extend. + A city on a hill cannot be hid, + Nor can'st thou be, while Heav'n lifts up thy head. + Shine, Britain! Shine! O send the bible forth, + To each benighted corner of the earth; + Till all with joy its richest blessings taste, + And share with us the glorious Gospel Feast. + O happy people! Highly favour'd Isle! + Which shares the sunshine of Jehovah's smile. + The scenes thy sons and daughters have enjoy'd, + Kings have desir'd to see, but were denied. + We hope the sound of discord soon will cease, + And angels sing a universal peace! + When barren lands with plenty shall abound, + And Christ be worshipp'd the wide world around. + At thoughts of this the lonely desert sings, + To see his altars throng'd with prostrate Kings; + To see great men of honour and renown, + Cast off the coronet to wear a crown! + Hasten, O Lord, the long--long wish'd for day, + When favour'd with thy truth's enlightening ray, + Poor Hottentots shall raise the song divine, + And savage Turks, the heav'nly concert join. + When Blacks and Whites, a vast redeemed throng, + Shall all unite to swell the mighty song; + Worship one God, and hail Him Lord and King, + Through the whole world the Saviour's praises sing. + + + + +A VOICE FROM THE DEAD! + + Written on being uncivilly treated, when erecting some + Tombstones in ---- Church Yard, where the Author was denied the + use of any part of the Church, Porch, or Stable; was forbidden + to Letter the Stone in the Church Yard, though it was more than + a mile from the Church to the nearest convenient place for such + a work; and was also denied the Keys of the Gate:--yet at that + very time, the parson's horse and cow, were feeding on the + grass, tearing up the graves, and breaking down the stones, + while none dared to complain! On seeing the horse's leg sink + into a grave up to the lisk, the following thoughts suggested + themselves. + + + What foot is that disturbs my rest, + Which through my coffin lid hath press'd, + And caus'd my bones the air to feel?-- + It is the parson's horse's heel! + + 'Tis hard so much as there's to pay, + That corpses cannot quiet lay, + But are by cow or horse plough'd up, + For priests to reap a three-fold crop! + + Through such a process they must pass, + The grave, the tombstone, and the grass, + And Easter Offering beside:-- + These claims must never be denied! + + What though they do the grass devour, + And leave their dung against the door! + Pay up,--say nought,--'What's that to thou?' + It is the parson's horse or cow! + + I know the living dare not grumble, + Nor at the parson's conduct stumble! + And when the simple truth is told, + Of dead men they can get no hold. + + We thought no hammer was to sound, + Upon this consecrated ground,-- + Yet cow or horse may grind our bones + And rub their sides against the stones! + + Some think things so are constituted, + That masons' tools are all polluted, + But that the parson's horse or cow, + Like th' Church, is consecrated too! + + Thus they may gallop o'er our graves, + And split our coffins into halves; + In spite of widows tears and groans, + May pastime make of dead folks' bones! + + This is too hard for flesh and blood! + A thing which cannot be withstood; + A thing which inward grief imparts + To pious minds and tender hearts. + + But men enthrall'd must never speak, + Nor for redress attempt to seek, + But with such creatures be content, + As Bishops have ordain'd and sent. + + Like him who dwells upon the coast, + Who of the priesthood makes his boast, + Regardless what the flock endure, + "If he can but the fleece secure!" + + His present residence and living, + Are of his earthly father's giving; + So none his title dare dispute, + For Bishops cannot turn him out! + + Though life and conduct be profane, + He knows that men dare not complain; + Or soon he'd show them his degrees, + And take revenge in _tythes_ and _fees_! + + Such workmen's labour is in vain + To keep their hands from bloody stain; + In vain they strive to show the road, + That leads to glory and to God! + + No wonder if such Church decay, + If members leave it day by day, + Where tyrannising is the law,-- + And till a change, it must be so. + + The remedy will be unknown, + Till Priests are of the Spirit born; + Till they get hearts refin'd and pure, + Dissenters must their scorn endure! + + + + +TO THE MOOR BIRDS IN A STORM. + + + Ye birds of the Moor, I doubt you'll be poor, + The storm is quite likely to last; + The owl and the crow, are shelter'd below, + But you are expos'd to the blast! + + The snow lies so deep, the hill is so steep, + My footsteps are feeble and slow, + O lend me your wings, ye dear little things, + To carry me over the snow! + + Nay, I have no gun, so you need not run, + Nor cackle, nor spread out your tails; + No danger is near, you've nothing to fear, + The poacher is down in the dales. + + The wind whistle's woe, through the valley below, + To the birds that are down in the wood; + You may hear by report, that the gun is afloat, + To scatter their feathers and blood. + + If you'll be content, till the storm shall be spent, + And suffer no envy or strife; + No doubt but you may, on some future day, + Get fat, and escape with your life! + + But if you encroach, or chance to approach, + The web-footed classes domain; + If wide you should stray, or fall out by the way, + A thousand to one but you're slain! + + + + +LINES ON RETURNING A BORROWED STICK OF SLENDERISH SIZE, + + Which had been lent with a strict charge to take particular + care of it, and to return it as soon as done with. + + To MR. WILLIAM HORNER, of Ripon. + + + Dear Billy, with thanks, I return thee thy switch, + Which has many times kept me out of the ditch. + I have found oft when stumbling o'er hillock or stone, + A slender supporter is better than none! + + When the stars were beclouded and darkness prevail'd, + And the rain was descending, its aid never fail'd; + For it grop'd out my way, and assisted my sight,-- + When my foot would have slipp'd, it kept me upright. + + It never forsook me, or broke my command, + Unless it was when it slipt out of my hand; + Then myself it might blame, for not taking more care, + For when duty demanded it always was there. + + It is rare upon earth to find such a friend, + On which one can always so safely depend;-- + When help was most needed it paid most regard, + And never reprov'd me for using it hard! + + + + +THE THUNDER STORM. + + + The praise be thine, Almighty, matchless King, + Whose care and power, my muse presumes to sing; + Whose tender care protects, while thousands sleep, + The wakeful sea-boy on the mighty deep. + Thou dost from perils screen his naked head, + Which in a moment fill the world with dread; + Thou, while thy lightnings flash, and thunders roll, + Dost whisper secret peace into his soul! + + The praise be thine, whose interposing power, + Protected us across yon lonely moor, + And through that night of terror and alarm, + Mysteriously preserv'd us all from harm! + That night of awful peril we record, + Ascribing all the glory to the Lord; + When from yon distant Meeting we return'd, + And pious friends at home our absence mourn'd! + + The moon and stars at once withdrew their light, + And thus increas'd the horrors of the night, + Loud claps of thunder shook the sons of pride, + And female courage was severely tried! + The time pass'd on in conversation sweet, + While flaming lightning flash'd around our feet,-- + Yet by the flash, in each believer's face + We read the sign of confidence and peace. + + Some to our God did then devoutly pray, + While others sung that awful hour away; + A voice was heard, "Ye need not be afraid, + Whose hope is on the Rock of Ages stay'd!" + Our virgins trimm'd their lamps, and sweetly sung, + And tenderly around each other clung, + While, as through fire and flood they took their way, + Salvation was the burden of their lay. + + 'Midst dismal darkness the black clouds were driven, + With all the fearful majesty of heaven; + And then as if an angel cleft the cloud, + And show'd to man the glowing wrath of God, + More quick than either thought, or sight of man, + From north to south the flaming fluid ran; + The east and west burst into a blaze, + And guilty man beheld it with amaze! + + It seem'd to warn the world against that day, + When earth and sky shall melt, and pass away! + The distant mountains seem'd to own his nod, + And cried to man, "Prepare to meet thy God!" + All glory be to our eternal King, + Who brought us all safe home His praise to sing. + May we both hear and keep his Holy Word, + And so fulfil the royal law of God! + + + + +THE MISER'S AWAY! + + + The miser's away, and he'll never come back, + Any more his rusty old guineas to crack, + By his niggardly fare, of potatoes and fish, + His successor enjoys a more plentiful dish. + I once had occasion to pass by his door, + Whose threshold so seldom was cross'd by the poor, + A kitten came out in its innocent play, + And pleasantly three-thrumm'd--"The Miser's away!" + + The way weary traveller, to shorten the mile, + Sometimes has occasion to go by the style; + The gain that he gets, his spirit revives, + He cuts off an elbow, and sooner arrives. + Through one of his fields the pathway doth lie, + And very few 'scap'd the dint of his eye. + The gate as it opens and creaks, seems to say, + 'Pass stranger, and welcome'--"The Miser's away!" + + In his ancient old Intake, long kept without fence, + And without cultivation, for fear of expence, + By the plough, or the spade, the rough is made plain, + And the hopeful young husbandman scatters the grain. + Where the bones of the gimmer decay'd on the ground, + And nettles and briars were every where found, + Fine corn is now growing, all smiling and gay; + It had not been so, but--"The Miser's away!" + + The birds haste away to the green holly bush, + The blackbird now tries to outrival the thrush; + They tip the tall branches on fluttering wing, + Make nearer approaches, and merrily sing. + The flowers in the garden around the bee-hive, + With unwonted freshness begin to revive, + To each new beholder their beauties display, + And whisper in perfume--"The Miser's away!" + + Here among his old books his Sabbaths he spent, + On logic and physic sat making comment;-- + He thought it would be the best method to use, + To save both his carcase, his money, and shoes;-- + He'd be his own doctor, and preacher likewise, + And his old yellow heap, like a mountain would rise! + The riches he heap'd up, by night and by day, + Another has found, for--"The Miser's away!" + + + + +THE MISTAKE: + + Containing a Moral for high looks, and forward folks. + + + Ye sportsmen bright of skill, and sight, + Who range o'er hill and dale; + Awhile give ear, and you shall hear, + A true and homely tale. + Ye friends at home, who seldom roam, + Much farther than the mill, + Be sure you're wise, and mind your eyes, + Or let your guns lie still. + It happen'd where, as you shall hear, + A building was erected, + That to complete its breadth and height, + Some workmen were collected. + + One morning chill, before yon hill + Was gilded with the sun, + Or adze, or axe, or mallet had, + Their battering begun; + Two favourite ducks, had 'scaped the fox, + Well fed, and feather'd too; + In sportive play, aspiring they + Took wing, and off they flew. + With airy wheel, they quick did scale, + The lofty wall unscar'd, + The trees they topt, and down they dropt + A gun-shot from the yard. + + A joiner ran, to fetch a gun + The wild ducks to secure,-- + The gun he brought, with which he thought, + To make at least one fewer. + Through mist and dew, the contents flew, + A duck began to cry, + And one took flight, and left our sight, + Nor could we it espy. + This done, the man full swiftly ran, + To gather up his game,-- + Both fore and aft, the people laugh'd, + To see his _wild_ duck _tame_! + + He set her down, she gaz'd around, + Wond'ring at such abuse,-- + But for her weight, or else she might + Have pass'd for a wild goose. + In friendship sweet, the ducks soon meet, + And talk their frolic o'er, + And in their play, they seem to say, + They'll fly so high no more. + Our thoughts oft may, our skill betray, + But actions they speak louder; + If he'd been still, he'd saved his skill, + Likewise his shot and powder! + + + + +THE BROKEN SEAL. + + + To sing of Southcotes clouded fame, + My muse presumes and tries to soar; + Though some may say, "Blot out her name, + Let it be seen or heard no more," + I have a secret to reveal, + Effected by a broken Seal! + + This poor Joanna had her day;-- + While fair and bright the morning shone, + She led too many far astray, + Whose souls much better things had known; + She soon their ancient tribe could tell, + And signed their title with a Seal. + + A poor, illiterate, labouring man, + Who went Joanna's voice to hear, + A stranger to salvation's plan, + Had linger'd on from year to year; + He thought she preach'd the gospel real, + And he of course must have a Seal! + + Without a heart transform'd and new, + Joanna Southcote took him in, + And seal'd him her disciple true, + Without repenting of his sin;-- + He slyly from his wife did steal, + The price of his mysterious Seal! + + Her creed on such conditions hung, + That while her seals continued whole, + Then hope was bright, and faith was strong, + And they could neither fail nor fall; + But none could rescue those from hell, + Who chanc'd to crack or break the Seal! + + When, lo, upon a certain day, + Examining his little store, + Joanna's passport to survey; + His pocket book he rummag'd o'er, + But consternation turn'd him pale, + When he perceiv'd he'd _broke_ his Seal! + + His heart was stung with deep dismay, + With anguish, and tormenting fears, + Which like a trumpet night and day, + Did sound this sentence in his ears, + "Thou never canst thy crime conceal, + Remember thou hast broke thy Seal!" + + He thought the Almighty from on high, + Would soon his red hot lightnings pour, + And he, a sinner doom'd to die, + Might then expect the hottest shower;-- + God would on him his wrath reveal, + For he had broke the fatal Seal! + + He more than either once or twice, + With heavy heart and tearful eye, + Went to a preacher for advice, + Who soon his sickness did descry; + By what his conscience seem'd to feel, + His heart was broken with his Seal! + + The preacher then without delay, + Did point him to the sinner's friend, + Exhorting him to watch and pray, + And on the Son of God depend, + Whose efficacious blood could heal + His soul, though he had broke his Seal! + + One day in agonizing prayer, + Believing on the Son of God, + On the dark borders of despair, + He found redemption in His blood, + And from the transport he did feel, + He bless'd the day he broke the Seal! + + + + +THE STONE: + + Composed to gratify a Scottish Rhymer, and brother mason. + + + A stone!--and what about a stone? + What sense is there in that? + I answer, in itself there's none: + But hold, I'll tell you what! + Oft while in craggy woods I've been, + All silent, and alone, + A thousand beauties I have seen, + Conceal'd within a stone! + + While passing through life's troubled scenes, + O'erwhelm'd with care and grief, + A stranger in this wilderness, + And needful of relief: + Not wishful then to every one, + To make my troubles known,-- + The thing most useful in this world, + I've gained it by a stone! + + Some boast of riches, and estates, + Of chariots, and of steeds, + Of ships that sail by wind or steam, + And some of mighty deeds: + But all the treasure I desire, + In cities, or alone, + Is peace of conscience, health of mind, + And hewing at a stone! + + Our kings, and nobles, dukes and lords, + Whose splendid castles rise, + Whose palaces, and lofty towers, + Reach almost to the skies; + Of Greece and Corinth make their boast, + Yet are oblig'd to own, + Some honour due, from first to last, + To those who hew the stone! + + In every town, in modern days, + Some system new prevails, + Men deviate from former ways, + The mason's art now fails: + Yet masons will be masons still, + And will each other own, + And smile at all attempts of skill + To imitate a stone! + + The work will stand, and not disgrace, + The master-builder's plan, + Defying rain, and tempests fierce, + For twice the age of man! + With all their compositions curl'd, + And round their columns thrown, + The grandest temple in the world, + We read was built of stone! + + When this fair earth at first arose, + And man was made upright, + Him, the great God of Heaven chose, + And view'd him with delight. + Had he thus stood, ('tis thought by some,) + And in God's image shone, + It never would have been our doom, + To hew and polish stone. + + But man soon fell, by mortal sin, + And since the deed is done, + And we its captives long have been, + Th' effect we cannot shun: + Yet though man from perfection fell, + And sin did make him groan, + The Lord in Zion laid for him, + "A sure foundation stone!" + + When men began to multiply, + And sin defil'd the heart, + The Lord look'd down with pitying eye, + With man he could not part. + The sun by day, and moon by night, + And twinkling stars that shone, + He made them all rejoice, and sing, + Of "Christ, the corner stone!" + + Whoe'er upon this stone shall fall, + Shall surely broken be, + Yet he may still be heal'd again, + And be from sin set free: + But he on whom this stone shall fall, + Shall see the Almighty's frown; + He shall be crush'd as powder small, + By this stupendous stone! + + Moses, that mighty man of God, + Who Israel's flock did lead, + Whose feet the path of duty trod, + And oft for them did plead, + In conversation with the Lord, + His face with glory shone, + And from awful Sinai bore, + The "Tables made of stone!" + + But lo, revolting Israel's seed, + In Horeb, as we're told, + Had during Moses' absence made, + A calf of molten gold; + Such folly made his griev'd heart ache, + With pangs till then unknown, + And down he threw at once, and brake + The "Tables made of stone!" + + Though ours be not such flagrant sins, + But lie perhaps conceal'd, + The day is coming when all things, + Now hid shall be reveal'd: + And some we have great cause to fear, + If they the truth would own, + Have little gods which they revere + Of gold, or precious stone. + + When once through Israel's armies brave, + The boasting challenge ran, + When great Goliath sent to Saul, + To find him out a man, + Who would in single combat fight, + Till one should be o'erthrown, + How little did he think that day + Of falling by a stone! + + With steps that made the earth to bend, + And spirit swell'd with pride, + He boasting shook his greaves of brass, + And Israel's God defied. + From Jesse's loins a stripling sprung, + Who made the monster groan, + When from the whirling sling he threw, + The feeble,--fatal stone! + + Proud armies have been overthrown, + And cities sack'd within, + And towers and temples broken down, + The sad effects of sin:-- + And once an Angel did foreshow, + The fall of Babylon, + When in the heaving deep he threw, + A great and mighty stone! + + When David's highly favour'd son, + His temple first began, + They from the mountains brought a stone, + Which seem'd a pest to man: + The masons view'd it o'er and o'er, + But oft with haughty scorn, + Rejected it, and roll'd aside + This strange, unshapely stone! + + From first to last it tumbling lay, + An object of disdain, + Till time, upon a certain day, + The mystery did explain. + The last, and loftiest pinnacle, + To finish and adorn + They sought, but none would do so well + As this rejected stone! + + A finer building ne'er was seen, + By any mortal eye, + The timbrels rung, and Israel sung, + And old men wept for joy. + And having thus their temple rear'd + Themselves are forc'd to own, + That which the builders once refus'd + Is now the Corner Stone! + + 'Tis thus Jehovah's favour'd sons, + With hearts by grace refined, + Are all compar'd to living stones, + For nobler ends design'd. + Thus he the mighty structure rears, + And perfects them in one, + A glorious Church,--and JESUS is + The chief, the corner stone! + + A stone by Daniel was perceiv'd, + And still the record stands, + Which from the mountains should proceed, + Cut out as without hands; + Whose dignity should greater grow, + And mighty Kings dethrone, + Till all the earth be fill'd below, + With this amazing stone! + + So "in due time God sent his Son," + According to His word, + Whose sacred mission was begun, + And seal'd with precious blood; + Who, while He dwelt on earth below, + Did make salvation known, + And caus'd His heavenly love to flow + In hearts once hard as stone! + + But Pharisees and cruel Jews, + Did seek from day to day, + This holy person to abuse, + To persecute and slay. + But God did give his Angels charge, + O'er his anointed one, + Lest he at any time should dash + His foot against a stone! + + At length his faithfulness to prove, + He for the world must die, + And power was given to wicked men, + The Lord to crucify. + The sun was dark at that event, + And with His dying groan, + Earth trembled! and the rocks were rent,-- + The rocks of solid stone! + + His enemies still follow'd Him, + When He lay in the grave + Hewn in the rock, for Joseph's tomb, + Who did His body crave: + Lest He their projects should destroy, + And they be overthrown, + They shut him in, and set a guard, + And seal'd the mighty stone! + + But Roman bands could not confine + The Saviour to His cell, + He manifests His power divine, + In spite of Earth and Hell: + The Father "owns His suffering Son," + Nor leaves Him then alone, + For lo! "an Angel comes by night, + And rolls away the stone!" + + He rises to men's wond'ring view, + And triumphs o'er His foes, + And proves the blessed record true, + Though sin and death oppose: + In glorious majesty He reigns, + On his exalted throne, + And still He power on earth retains, + To soften hearts of stone! + + To those who overcome through Him, + A stone, and a new name + He gives, which none can read but they, + Nor understand the same. + And they shall share His joys divine, + Seated on glittering thrones, + And walk those streets whose pavements shine + Like gold, or precious stones! + + + + +TO THE RISING SUN! ON A FROSTY MORNING. + + + Hail glorious Sun! bright regent of the day; + Gladly I welcome thine all cheering ray: + 'Midst frost and snow, a visit thus from thee, + Sets each numb toe and frozen finger free! + + Bright emblem of the Majesty on high, + Who lives and reigns, the Lord of earth and sky! + Before thy face the hailstones melt away, + And thy glad light turns darkness into day. + + Oft moving down the sloping dale I've eyed, + Thy golden radiance from the mountain side; + Have often long'd upon yon hills to be, + To catch a comfortable ray from thee. + + Now chill November's breath is cold and keen, + The trees around have lost their lovely green, + While horned cattle from the mountains roam, + And for their masters low, to take them home. + + The early plough boy stops to clap his hands, + The tender female dances where she stands; + While I, half starv'd, have thought thy coming long, + But now I hail thee welcome with a song! + + 'Tis said in heathen lands they worship thee, + When o'er the mountain tops thy light they see: + But as thou here no homage dost receive, + I to thy Maker all the glory give. + + His face, like thine, the drooping sinner cheers, + Oppress'd with guilt, and overwhelm'd with fears: + A ray from thee, O uncreated Sun, + Breaks up, and makes long frozen fountains run! + + Thou, from thyself, the soul to purify, + Dost pour the living water from on high, + Which if it doth within the soul remain, + The sinner's heart shall never freeze again! + + Yes! he who daily drinks of this pure wave, + For sensual pleasure shall no relish have, + But calm amidst the turbulence of life, + Shall dwell for ever free from care and strife. + + Shine, glorious Sun! thy blessings richly pour, + And cheer our fallen world from hour to hour! + With thy glad beams, O visit every vale, + 'Till every starving soul thine influence feel! + + + + +LINES IN MEMORY OF THE REV. D. DUCK, CURATE OF DANBY. + + + Yes! Daniel, faithful Daniel's gone, + His weeping flock lament their loss; + No more they fix their eyes upon + That zealous preacher of the cross! + + No more he meets them at the gate, + No breezes waft his silver'd hair, + While o'er the dead, both small and great, + His soul breathes out the ardent prayer! + + Nor from his eye, when grave-scenes call, + His streaming tears are seen to flow,-- + Those tears, which to the earth did fall, + And mingle with the dust below. + + No more he at the altar stands, + To bless, or break the hallow'd bread, + While from his lips and lifted hands, + Each hungry, holy soul is fed! + + But mingled happy saints among, + His ravish'd soul doth now ascend, + To share that bliss which he so long, + To others here did recommend. + + + + +AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED CHILD. + + + My little boy! my lovely boy! + Why in such haste away? + Will no embrace, or tempting toy, + Induce thy longer stay? + + What prompted thee the day before, + To climb thy Father's knee,-- + Spring to the window or the door, + With such unusual glee? + + I wonder oft, with wakeful eye, + And think it might be so, + Some Spirit then was passing by, + And beckon'd thee to go! + + I recollect with other things, + Which I have felt and fear'd, + Once something like the sound of wings, + Within the room was heard! + + Hast thou in infant vision seen + The city of our God? + Or on those holy mountains been, + By saints and angels trod? + + Or hast thou heard the melody + Which fills the courts above? + Or has thy Saviour shown to thee + The tokens of his love? + + If so,--no wonder thou should'st look + So light on all below;-- + If thou hast tasted of the brook + Where living waters flow! + + No wonder thou with such delight, + Didst view the rising sun: + Then glance on us thine eye so bright, + And flutter to be gone! + + If thou hast seen among heaven's choirs, + The crown that thou shalt wear, + Forgive a parent's fond desires, + To keep thee longer here. + + If thou among earth's griefs and joys, + Hadst any longer stayed, + With other rude and wicked boys, + Hadst into evil strayed;-- + + Hadst thou thy Saviour disobey'd, + Who died thy soul to save, + Thy parents' heads might have been laid, + With sorrow in the grave. + + If it be wrong to mourn for thee, + The Lord that wrong forgive, + And grant us grace each day, that we + In him may walk and live. + + O could our faith but pierce the gloom + That hovers round our clay, + We might prefer an early tomb, + To one that's old and grey! + + Could we but hear the songs they sing, + Or see the robes they wear, + 'Twould give our resolutions wing, + With longings to be there. + + To see those heavenly harpers young, + Light up the sacred fires; + To see their nimble fingers run + Along the golden wires; + + Would make a man forget his grief, + His conflicts here below, + And give a mother's soul relief, + With languishings to go! + + Would make us all forsake our sin, + And Jesus Christ adore, + And bring the resolution in, + To grieve our God no more. + + Would make us to His house resort, + To weep, and watch, and pray, + Until we gain that blissful port + Where tears are wiped away. + + + + +ON THE FIRST TEXT HEARD SPIRITUALLY. + + ("My heart is fixed."--Psalm lvii. 7.) + + + By grace divine I sing, "My heart is fix'd!" + (Fix'd on the corner stone in Zion laid:) + He spoke, I wept, and heard the blessed text, + And all my wavering, wandering thoughts were stay'd. + + He to me spoke, as with an angel's voice, + And all my fears at once like lightning fled! + O how my troubled soul did then rejoice! + I was as one new risen from the dead! + + Thrice happy bard who wrote such words as these, + So applicable to a case like mine; + Such music surely never reach'd my ears, + Nor words did ever with such lustre shine! + + Though all who read, may not that beauty see, + Nor feel the truths that sin sick hearts console, + Yet, O, it was a blessed text to me, + By which the Lord spoke peace unto my soul! + + 'Tis mystery all! 'Tis like the wind that blows! + I hear its sound, as it sweeps through the wood, + I feel it come, but know not where it goes,-- + And so is every one that's born of God! + + Now I can sing, "My soul is sick of love!"-- + Of love to God, and every one I see; + Nor smiles, nor frowns, my happy soul can move, + A friend or stranger is alike to me! + + But will the Lord such rebels still receive? + Can angels sing for such a wretch as I? + Did Jesus die, that one so vile might live? + So vile, so full of sin and misery! + + Yes! He the sinner doth invite to come; + For rich, for poor, for all his grace is free! + Fly, sinners, fly to Christ, there yet is room + For all who feel their guilt and misery. + + The King is now my Friend, I cannot doubt, + For he His witness doth to me impart; + He'll bind the strong man arm'd, and cast him out, + And pour the living stream into my heart! + + O happy soul, when thus to life restor'd, + Let folly end, where genuine hope begins; + He finds a heaven, who truly finds the Lord, + But he that finds this heaven, must lose his sins! + + O may I learn to do the thing that's right, + My love to God, by true obedience show; + And read, and wrestle, strive, rebuke, and fight, + And watch, and pray, and to perfection grow! + + So when my warfare here on earth is past, + And Death on me his chilling hand shall lay, + God will receive my ransom'd soul at last, + To live and reign with Him, in endless day! + + + + +TO A SQUIRREL IN A CAGE. + + + Little spinner, blithe and gay, + Dancing thus thy life away! + A King his palace might resign, + For a couch as soft as thine! + + Thou canst choose, as suits thee best, + When to toil, and when to rest: + Free from earthly care and strife, + Merrily doth pass thy life. + + Ere the day begins to dawn, + Thou art at thy work alone; + By the early riser seen, + Turning round thy light machine. + + Quick thou tip'st the slender wires, + Which more art than strength requires;-- + Be the weather foul or fair, + Heart and foot are light as air! + + Joyful in thy little jail, + Thou dost spread thy bushy tail: + Playing many a curious prank, + Tumbling like a mountebank! + + When awful thunders o'er thee break, + And earth's foundations seem to shake, + Free from terror and dismay, + Thou heed'st it not, but spin'st away. + + Separated now for good, + From thy cronies of the wood, + Thou no more dost wander free, + Skipping light from tree to tree. + + Though once with thee things better went, + Thou seemest happy and content, + If some kind friend supply thy lack, + By giving thee a nut to crack. + + And when thou hast it in thy paw, + In face of either friend or foe, + The beamings of thine eye impart + The motions of a grateful heart. + + Alone, confin'd within thy cage, + Thou fearest not the battle's rage; + Of courage bold, and action brave, + Though in prison--thou'rt not a slave! + + If life is spared, some other day, + When I shall chance to come this way, + A present unto thee I'll bring, + Thou bonny, little woodland thing! + + Little spinner, blithe and gay, + Dancing thus thy life away! + A Queen her palace might resign, + For a pillow soft as thine! + + + + +TO A BIRD SINGING IN WINTER. + + + Why, why, little bird, so cheerfully sing, + When all things around look so sad? + The prospect at present, as touching the spring, + Gives cause to be sorry, not glad! + + Had April appear'd in loveliest hue, + And made the green meadows look gay, + Thou merrily might'st have mounted thy bough, + And warbled thy minutes away. + + But summer's far off, and still in the copse, + The cold winter's snow doth descend, + Fierce winds, and sharp frosts, may yet blast thy hopes, + And bring thy sweet song to an end. + + By craft of the boys, in bush, or in wood, + Thy foot may be caught in a snare, + And thou whilst seeking a morsel of food, + Be a captive, ere thou art aware. + + Why merrily sing, when thou hast no barn, + In which to lay up thy grain? + Why warble thy notes, while unthankful man, + So often is heard to complain? + + Why cheerfully sing when there are no flowers, + Or sun in the valley to shine? + 'Tis proof that thy prospects are brighter than ours, + Thy heart more contented than mine! + + + + +PETCH'S ELEGY! + + + How short, how frail is our abode on earth! + But yesterday it seems since we sprang forth: + Life doth no sooner sparkle in our eye, + Than we are subject to decline and die! + + A brother Mason now a victim lies + To Death, whose icy hand hath closed his eyes! + He sleeps, forgetful of his toil and care; + In prime of life, no more his voice we hear. + + No more the chisel moves within his hands, + The sounding axe no more his skill demands: + But silence reigns,--his spirit's gone to rest, + His ransom'd soul is number'd with the blest! + + His sins and follies here he did bemoan, + A heavy burden, grievous to be borne; + When lo, the Lord, a week before he died, + Dispers'd the gloom, and all his wants supplied + + In the Redeemer's blood he did believe, + And God his pardoning love to him did give: + Such depth of mercy fill'd us with surprise, + And tears of gratitude flow'd from our eyes! + + He boldly triumph'd in God's pardoning grace, + With love and patience beaming in his face; + Till fainting in the icy arms of death, + He praised his God with his departing breath + + How oft have we in health, and free from pain, + Joyful to labour, cross'd the dewy plain, + Before the morning stars had disappear'd, + Or early harmony the woodlands cheer'd! + + How oft have we been partners through the day, + Or sung in hymns our nightly hours away! + Alas! my partner's gone! Can I forbear + To welcome down my cheek the rolling tear? + + No more on earth his voice shall mix with mine, + In social converse, or in songs divine! + Be it my chief concern to be prepar'd, + Like him to die, and meet my just reward. + + False witnesses did raise a vile report, + And laid things to his charge that he knew not: + But now he's gone to be with Christ on high, + Where he is safe, and may their power defy. + + Now slander and reproach at once may cease; + No more can they disturb our brother's peace! + Their arrows keen can never pierce his soul, + He is departed, and hath reach'd the goal! + + Farewell! but Oh! we hope to meet again, + And join our voices in a nobler strain, + Where Jesus our great Prophet, Priest, and King, + In everlasting majesty doth reign! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON PETCH'S TOMB. + + + Dear Petch belov'd! Thy endless portion's fix'd! + As death hath left thee, so shall judgment find: + Thy spirit, with a world of spirits mix'd, + Hath left its mouldering tenement behind! + + Sprightly and active, thou the other day, + Didst fill thy station in this world of cares; + In life's fair morn, thy soul hath slipt away, + From its delusions, and a thousand snares! + + Thy cheeks a more than common bloom did wear, + Thy voice with music sweetly did agree; + Thy heart was lively, thy complexion fair:-- + Had I chose one for life, I'd chosen thee! + + Perhaps thy mind dwelt on some future scene, + Anticipating more than was allow'd, + When pale affliction drew a veil between, + And death appointed thee an early shroud! + + Methinks I hear thee, while I thus survey + The dreary place where thy remains are laid, + Crying, "Prepare for the great judgment day! + That day which shall thy destiny decide! + + There's no repenting in the gloomy grave, + Nor in that world in which I now exist; + Christ died, that he from hell thy soul might save,-- + Keep his commands, or thou wilt ne'er be blest!" + + Here I should faint, reflecting on my theme, + And recollecting thy great sins now past, + Had not the grace of God, thy passport been, + Had not heaven deign'd to smile on thee at last! + + Hadst thou not given some proof of penitence, + Had I not witness'd oft the bless'd effect, + I might have fear'd, through disobedience, + That Heaven for ever would thy soul reject. + + But Oh, the saving power of grace divine, + Which reach'd the dying thief upon the cross, + Had visited that troubled soul of thine, + Which else had mourn'd its everlasting loss! + + Disrob'd of all his terrors, Death drew nigh,-- + Behind, a band of shining seraphs stood, + He pointed toward the opening sky, + And dipt his dart in the atoning blood! + + His humble victim felt the stingless wound, + And to his God resign'd his fleeting breath; + He view'd Heav'ns portals through the gloom around, + And shouted "Victory!" in the arms of Death! + + Go, blooming youth, and share the rich reward, + Purchas'd for such as thee with blood divine; + Thank God, He ever did thy prayer regard, + And caus'd the light of life on thee to shine! + + May all the household of thy kindred dear, + Hear and regard the caution thou hast given; + Repent, and turn to God, with hearts sincere, + And have, like thee, the earnest of their Heaven! + + May I amidst a world of toil and care, + Still bear in mind my Shepherd's care for me, + Weep o'er my sin, each day for death prepare, + Sigh o'er thy name-stamp'd tool, and think on thee! + + + + +"WHO HATH BELIEVED OUR REPORT?" + + Isaiah liii. 1. + + + "Who hath believed our report?" + The agonizing prophet cried; + Where do the wandering tribes resort, + For whom the King of Glory died? + + His goodness doth before them pass, + The fairest of ten thousand He, + Yet sin bewilders, and alas, + In Him they can no beauty see. + + His Kingly presence they deny, + While round their altars they resort, + Well might the grieved prophet cry, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + "Away with such a one," they cry, + "Let timbrels sound, and damsels sing, + This strange impostor crucify, + For none but Csar is our King!" + + Slain in the streets the martyrs lie, + Who strove His kingdom to support, + Well might the trembling prophet cry, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + His ministers to make Him known, + Their time, and strength, and souls devote, + Yet oft in sorrow cry alone, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + All we like sheep have gone astray, + From Him we have our faces hid, + We each have turn'd to his own way, + And done the things that were forbid. + + His faithful servants all day long, + Do to repentance us exhort, + Yet nightly raise the mournful song, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + It was for us He was accused, + Sank under sorrows not His own, + Was buffeted, chastis'd, and bruis'd, + To raise us rebels to a throne. + + The nails, the hammer, and the spear, + And reed, with which His head was smote, + All cry in the deaf sinner's ear, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + Yes! both the pulpit and the press, + The thunder of His power proclaim, + Commend His blood and righteousness, + And offer mercy in His name. + + Yet some are always standing by, + Of holy things to make a sport, + And weeping preachers yet may cry, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + Some have believed this report,-- + To them He hath "His arm reveal'd;" + To Him their lives they now devote, + For "by His stripes their souls are heal'd!" + + And on the last important day, + When all shall be to judgment brought, + Thrice happy those who then can say, + We have believed this report. + + But woe to all ungodly men, + Who wonder how these things can be; + They'll wonder more, and perish then,-- + Too late they will their folly see. + + For them, alas, no joys remain, + The Lord of life will cut them short; + And they shall weep and wish in vain, + They had believed our report! + + + + +THE BEES + + + The Sun throws his ray on the lake, + The vessels are scudding along; + Before half the city's awake, + The air is all action and song! + + The Bees haste away to the moors, + And eager their task to complete, + Extract from the bells of the flowers, + Their delicate essences sweet. + + All cheerful they hurry along, + Their storehouse of food to increase, + Till Death puts an end to their song, + The citizen's table to grace. + + Though few can their weapons withstand, + Or few can their forces defeat, + Yet Death with a torch at command, + Soon makes the wing'd armies retreat. + + At once their anxiety droops, + In the grave they lie silent and still, + While strangers are draining the cup, + They made such exertions to fill. + + O may I be bold as the Bee, + In work of a similar cast, + So faithful, industrious, and free, + And labour, and sing to the last! + + + + +CAUTION FROM LIMBER HILL. + + (_Occasioned by a fall during a frost._) + + + 'Twas a bit gone December, + As I well remember, + I met with a rubber, and got some advice; + What harbour to rest in, + What Friend to put trust in, + And how we may walk with slape shoes upon ice! + + In coming down Limber, + Among the young timber, + My foot slipt, and falling, it was a take in, + The night being darkish, + And we a bit larkish, + Instead of a broom bush, I grasped a whin! + + When my fingers were bleeding, + And pain was succeeding, + It set me a thinking,--of that you'll not doubt; + And but for the blunder, + Which lessen'd the wonder, + I else had been punish'd enough to sing out! + + My views being muddy, + I quickly did study, + What things upon earth to compare with this whin; + After walking around 'em, + I very soon found 'em + To be a false friend, or the pleasures of sin! + + A true Friend is precious, + His favour's delicious, + He'll give you a lift, when he sees you break down; + In conflicts distressing, + You'll find him a blessing, + He'll mark your oppressions, and call them his own! + + But a false Friend will vary, + And vow quite contrary, + His heart to your grief will be hard as a stone; + In sorrow or sickness, + He'll pity your weakness, + But only plant under your pillow a thorn! + + While your money is chinking, + He'll answer you winking, + He'll "_Master_," and "_Sir_" you, and come at your call; + But give him a pincher, + You'll find him a flincher, + Instead of a lift, he will fling you a fall! + + So sin is deceiving, + Bewitching, bereaving; + 'Twill pierce through the heart, and invite you to sing; + 'Twill put on fair faces, + To woo your embraces, + But after you've grasp'd it, there follows a sting! + + + + +THE VILLAGE CHURCH IN RUINS! + + (_A decayed Church, a faithful Minister, a Gospel Sermon, a + cold wind, a rainy day, and ten hearers!_) + + + Alas, for our mother, whom age hath o'ertaken, + Her champions are sleeping beneath the cold sod; + She seems both by lover and friend quite forsaken, + Her total dependance is now on her God! + + By tribute to Csar her battlements crumble, + Her grey headed Elders may weep in despair; + Her once lovely fabric's now ready to tumble, + While no one arises her breach to repair! + + Alas, for the spot where our ancestors bended, + In humble devotion, and brotherly love, + Where early petitions like incense ascended, + And blessings in answer came down from above. + + Alas, for that spot where our tribes did assemble, + In youthful succession, both healthy and gay, + Which then did the Temple of Zion resemble,-- + But briers and thorns have now choked up the way. + + The voice of her Elders in prayer seems to falter, + And her bells ring dolefully over her dead, + Her priest may lament from the porch to the altar, + Her pews are deserted, her virgins are fled. + + Among her old timber, the hollow winds whistle, + And carve out a track for the frost or the snow; + Her walls, while they preach her departing epistle, + Are cover'd with gloom, both above and below. + + Dim through her old windows the daylight is peeping, + The damp floor hath driven the hearers away; + A drop through the roof seems as if it were weeping, + To think how her beauty is gone to decay. + + Of her milk and her honey she still might have boasted, + And offer'd to all in abundance, and free, + But her funds by the drones are now nearly exhausted, + In craftily clipping the wings of the Bee. + + Still thanks be to God, the Gospel is publish'd, + With precept on precept, and line upon line; + Still Ten there are found, who come to be furnish'd, + With heav'nly instruction, in lectures divine. + + The Minister boldly the tidings reported, + And wisely distinguish'd the bad from the good; + Of the present or absent who die unconverted, + That worm eaten pulpit is clear of their blood! + + + + +POETICAL REFLECTIONS. + + (_Composed during a visit from the West._) + + + Once more, my muse, resume thy wonted seat, + And ask permission of the wise and great, + To admit, as tribute due, thy warbling song, + In thy own land, and in thy mother tongue. + + Once more the happy region I behold, + Where I have oft experienc'd joys untold; + Where cattle graze, and crystal fountains flow, + And rivers glide, and healthy breezes blow. + + Here my enraptur'd fancy playful roves, + And walks 'mong flowery banks, or shady groves, + Or nimbly climbs the rugged mountain's height, + And views yon plains with ever new delight. + + Sometimes in fertile orchards I attend, + Where mellow fruits the loaded branches bend; + Sometimes I see old Esk in fury roll, + Or fish, or walk, or swim the silent pool. + + Here did I spend the morning of my days, + And learn'd by grace, to walk in wisdom's ways, + Its scenes can court my soul's affections yet, + Their charms are such they cannot be forgot. + + O yes, the cottage once again I see, + Which oft has prov'd a safe retreat for me, + From wintry tempest, or my neighbour's frown, + From piercing frost, or scorching sun at noon: + + Its walls my castle, and its roof a guard, + As from the cloud the forked lightning glared. + Here did I notice first with wond'ring eye, + The rainbow's beauty, and the bright blue sky;-- + + The morning sun, or the pale evening star, + The moon's eclipse, or comet's sign of war! + Here oft our little tribe have muster'd up, + And from each eye have wiped the crystal drop;-- + + Each other cheer'd when dark misfortune frown'd, + As we our little fire have circled round! + What each had read, or heard in times before, + Each eager open'd out his little store;-- + + Of fairy stories, stormy seas, or sands, + Rocks, woods, or caves, or dens in foreign lands, + Enchanted castles, weapons, sceptres, crowns, + Of friars, giants, hermits, smiles and frowns! + + Thus oft our lonely evenings pass'd away, + Till glad we welcom'd in the morning ray;-- + Ours might have been the cottage of content, + But we an absent Father did lament. + + Now wide dispers'd whom nature so endear'd, + No evening song, no conversation's heard! + The garden walls we did so often climb, + Are desolated by the hand of time! + + Oft on yon sunny bank our feet have been, + Or skimm'd the frozen pond upon the green; + Where I may wander now, and sigh alone, + O'er pleasures past, and never to return! + + O Land belov'd! Thou still art dear to me! + I still behold a comeliness in thee, + Which to express I cannot language find, + Nor vent the deep emotions of my mind! + + Though transient joys have ta'en their lasting flight, + In thee I see a permanent delight,-- + A secret sympathy I can't express, + Which seems to feed the flame of happiness! + + But what is best of all, religion thrives, + The desert sings, the work of God revives! + Cold, frozen hearts have felt the melting flame + Of Jesu's love, and spread abroad the same! + + Sing on, ye tribes, sweet peace ye may secure, + Your wants supplied from field and fountain pure; + Live, and enjoy your privilege great, + Nor ever more forget the mercy seat! + + No midnight revels here your door molest, + Nor wild confusion robs you of your rest; + Here you in silence may your eyelids close,-- + On downy pillows find a sweet repose! + + Here broad back'd mountains raise their heads immense, + And rocky bulwarks rise for your defence, + Whose silent caves present sublimer charms, + Than the shrill trumpet, or than war's alarms. + + O happy man, who safe from winter's frown, + Lies anchor'd in a harbour of his own; + He whose chief treasure is a humble mind, + By truth enlighten'd and by grace refined! + + Who suffers not his flock to go astray, + But early learns his tribes to sing and pray; + Though he but little knows of men and things, + Yet having this he needs not envy Kings! + + Bend, O ye kings! and at God's altar bow,-- + Your God hath left a brighter throne for you; + And costlier robes than yours He laid aside, + And in your stead, He suffer'd, bled, and died! + + Be not deceiv'd, ye all must stoop as low + As a poor beggar, Jesu's love to know: + The beggar, or the king, that throne to gain, + Must know what's meant by being "born again!" + + The number of the faithful, Lord, increase, + And fill their habitations with thy peace; + That all may know, e'en husband, child, and wife, + The benefits of a religious life. + + O still ride on, thou mighty matchless King, + Till all thy favour feel, and praises sing;-- + Thy favour, which alone true joy imparts, + Is thy law written on thy people's hearts. + + By thine omnipotence o'ercome thy foes, + And make them dread thy name, and own thy laws; + O let not sin for ever them deceive, + But spare them breath to pray, repent, and live! + + O may my scatter'd tribe thy voice attend, + And with thy ransom'd few their voices blend: + I long to see them with their names enroll'd + Among thy people, in thine earthly fold. + + O God, 'tis thine, I leave the cause with Thee, + To give them ears to hear, and eyes to see, + And hearts to feel;--apply the sprinkled blood, + And purify, and make them sons of God! + + The ties of Friendship cling around my heart, + While I from much lov'd scenes am forced to part, + And leave the beauties of my native home, + With weary step, far o'er yon hills to roam. + + O may I gain a seat on Zion's hill, + Where I no more shall bid my friends farewell; + Nor mix with parting tears the morning dew, + Nor drop my pen, nor sigh my last adieu! + + + + +THE TWO HOURS' TASK! + + (_A congratulatory Address to the Lambs, on their appearance in + Spring._) + + + Welcome, little peaceful strangers, + To your fields and pastures green, + Fearless of surrounding dangers, + Since no dangers you have seen. + + While the sun is on you beaming, + That you may new strength receive, + Sweet new milk is for you streaming, + That you may partake and live. + + Spring, with all her charms, invites you, + Now to taste the tender blade; + Birds are singing to delight you, + Whether in the sun or shade. + + Nature has with gladness crown'd you, + Woodlands echo at your birth, + Spreads a flowery carpet round you, + Bids you walk in freedom forth. + + But beware of your destroyer, + Crafty Reynard stalks the plains, + To your shepherd cleave then closer, + Or he'll drain your little veins. + + In your merry evening gambols, + Of surrounding foes beware, + Also in your distant rambles, + See you wander not too far. + + Fell destruction round you hovers, + Therefore caution don't despise, + Croaking ravens wait in numbers, + To pick out your little eyes. + + Go not forth without your shepherd, + Be not lifted up with pride, + For if peaceful you would slumber, + You must never leave his side. + + Till your strength is perfected, + Keep within your master's ground, + You shall never be neglected, + If you thus are faithful found. + + See yon lamb that now is bleating, + Him misfortune calls its own; + And mark'd out an early victim, + From the flock he strays alone. + + See the little lonely mourner, + Like a bull-rush hangs his head, + Seeks a solitary corner, + And refuses to be fed. + + Life to him appears a burden, + This his wailings testify, + Earth no pleasures can afford him, + He will shortly droop and die. + + Ere he drink the crystal fountain, + Ere he dance the flowery plain, + Ere he bleat on yonder mountain, + He returns to earth again. + + Emblem of that happy infant + Which was born the other day, + But before it knew bereavement, + From the earth was call'd away. + + Call'd to more delightful regions, + Ere he learn'd his mother tongue, + There to speak a purer language, + There to sing a sweeter song. + + On his Lord to wait attendant, + And to sing redeeming love, + Seated on a throne resplendent, + In a brighter world above. + + Cheerful lambs around us caper, + Woodland songsters hail the morn; + But frail man is doom'd to labour, + Weep, and sweat, and sigh, and mourn. + + Yet there is a higher station, + Man is born for nobler joys, + If he seeks and finds salvation, + He shall sing above the skies. + + Though he be a fallen creature, + Subject here to droop and die, + The "Lamb of God" can change his nature, + And take all his sins away! + + + + +THE COUNTRY BLUNDER! + + + Some lines which I have lately penn'd + May prove a caution to a friend; + Indeed as such they are intended, + And to my friends are recommended. + + But some, though caution'd night and morn, + Will not take heed, howe'er we warn, + But still to make their neighbours fun, + Will obstinately blunder on. + + A servant man in Glazedale glen, + Did lately shoot a fine pea-hen: + Taking her for a pheasant good, + Lately stray'd from the neighb'ring wood. + + But had he studied well the season, + He might have found sufficient reason, + To have convinc'd him, there and then, + 'Twas neither pheasant, cock nor hen! + + For is it common thus to see, + Where there is neither bush nor tree, + A pheasant pick, in open day?-- + Much more upon the King's highway? + + To view her well he did not fail, + Her rosy comb, and fine long tail, + And call'd her without more ado, + A pheasant,--and a fine one too! + + But beast, or bird, it makes no matter, + He takes his gun and jingles at her; + And ere that bird his mercy begs, + She tumbles down, with broken legs! + + He then did speedily run out, + And twin'd her slender neck about, + With pleasure sparkling in his eyes, + Thinking he'd got a famous prize! + + But one whose senses were awake, + Did soon point out his sad mistake; + His countenance did alter, when + He found it was a fine _pea-hen_! + + He thought his neighbours then would scoff, + And poets soon would take him off; + Too late he wish'd and strove in vain, + To bring his hen to life again! + + Ye poachers all, both young and old, + If you don't think my pen too bold;-- + Or may I say, kind gentlemen,-- + Take warning by this same pea-hen! + + Mind well what creatures you abuse; + They all were given by God for use:-- + Lest you should make your neighbours fun, + Look well before you point your gun! + + Or you by chance may shoot a horse;-- + The other's bad,--this would be worse: + Yet such a thing was lately done, + And by a badly managed gun! + + The thorns or thistles, stones or whins, + May prick your legs, or break your shins; + Yet those who'd buy instruction cheap, + Should always "look before they leap!" + + If still my counsel you disdain, + I may hereafter write again; + And should you not mind what you do, + I may inform of some of you! + + + + +A SINNER SAVED BY GRACE. + + + Come, fellow sinner, lend an ear, + And listen while I now declare + What God hath done for me; + His word hath broke my stony heart, + My soul hath felt the piercing smart, + Of guilt and misery! + + Long time I went about distress'd, + Nor day nor night could I find rest, + Till I his voice did hear, + Till I beheld Him on the Cross;-- + My soul did then her burden lose, + And all its slavish fear! + + To Him who doth my foes controul, + I look'd and He hath heal'd my soul, + And all my sins forgiven: + Hence may I turn my feeble sight + To yonder realms of peace and light, + And live and die for Heaven! + + Oh hasten, sinners, to be wise; + While Jesu's mercy loudly cries, + Do you salvation take;-- + But if you're stubborn to the last, + Then be assur'd you will be cast, + Into the burning lake! + + Say you, "Where shall we find the Lord, + According to his Holy Word, + To heal our wounded mind? + While some say here, and others there, + We long to see the temple where + We may salvation find!" + + Wherever two or three are met, + Whose faces Zion ward are set, + He's promis'd there to be; + O seek the Lord without delay, + And cry for mercy night and day, + Till you're from sin set free! + + When you by grace are born again, + Then publish to the sons of men, + That you this path have trod; + That others may for mercy cry, + And saints may lift their voices high, + And glorify their God! + + + + +THE PORTION OF THE JUST. + + + How blessed a thing Hallelujah to sing, + When time shall with us be no more:-- + At the Judge's right hand all the faithful shall stand, + His goodness to see and adore! + + In that heavenly place in the light of his face, + They in mansions of glory shall dwell; + No more the big tear on their face shall appear, + For to sorrow they've bid a Farewell! + + Above and below rich clusters do grow, + Of the grapes of that Canaan so pure; + His welcome so sweet makes the banquet complete, + And they sing of His mercy secure! + + Death vanquish'd, they sing, and spoil'd of his sting, + Of Hell conquer'd by Christ from above; + On the plains of delight with thousands in white, + They shall walk and converse of His love! + + But the wicked, alas, when their sentence shall pass, + Shall at once into darkness be driven, + Fierce pains to endure with spirits impure, + Who were hurl'd from their places in heaven! + + Oh, if thou dost crave above all things to have + A seat with thy Saviour divine, + No longer delay, nor rest night nor day, + Till a scriptural title is thine! + + + + +THE HAPPY CHOICE! + + + Jesus! thy name to me hath charms, + Outvieing all beneath the sun; + Thy secret love my bosom warms, + And in my soul 'tis heav'n begun! + + No peace like that thy presence brings, + No joys like those thou dost impart; + Anon, with healing in thy wings, + Thou com'st to heal the broken heart! + + Thy footsteps may I always see, + Under thy shadow may I dwell! + I give my life, my all to thee, + And triumph o'er the powers of Hell! + + Thou dost my soul with rapture fill, + No more for mammon I contend; + I glory in the joys I feel, + While thou dost comfort and defend! + + O let thy name be always sweet + As honey, from the rock, that flows; + So shall I gladly turn my feet, + Where'er my blessed Master goes! + + + + +ON THE DEATH OF JOHN MORLEY. + + + "Heard you that groan? 'Twas from a dying man! + A man just gone into Eternity!" + "Redeem thy time! Thy life is but a span!" + That language,--Hark! It speaks to you and me! + + A man of health, and strength, and spirits gay, + The solemn call seem'd distant to his view; + But, lo, how soon the victim's snatch'd away + By Death's rude hand, and bids the world adieu! + + Fearless of danger, he, twelve days before, + Went to the field to share the common lot, + With the sharp scythe to cut the grass or flower, + But, ah, the secret lesson he forgot! + + "_All flesh_ is grass, or like the flowery field, + So soon 'tis faded, wither'd, or cut down; + To time's embrace its charms are forc'd to yield, + The winds pass over it, and it is gone!" + + When heated by the sun's meridian ray, + And parch'd with thirst, to drink he felt inclin'd, + Dropping his scythe, poor Morley took his way, + In hopes some cool, refreshing stream to find! + + To yonder river to receive his death, + With sweat, like dewdrops, hanging on his brow, + He hastes--nor thinks he must resign his breath, + And to the lonely church-yard shortly go! + + Thus bathed in sweat the river's bank he gains, + And drinks, and washes in the crystal flood; + When lo! an icy coldness chills his veins, + Affects his senses, and inflames his blood! + + He medical assistance quickly sought, + Excessive pain depriv'd his eyes of sleep; + Physicians soon their powerful medicines brought, + But ah! the fatal dart had pierc'd too deep! + + The fever rages, not a limb is free, + It mocks the power of remedies applied; + Friends weep, and wish for his recovery;-- + Alas! their warmest wishes are denied. + + His fate seems hard, but yet Heav'n sees it fit, + And Heaven's will is best, we must agree;-- + Sooner or later we must all submit + To Death's loud call,--to nature's stern decree! + + The surgeon blushes while his patient bleeds, + All hope soon vanishes of life below; + With hasty step the monster Death proceeds, + Lifts his fell dart, and strikes the fatal blow! + + His wife distracted doth her loss deplore, + His children weep as though their hearts would break; + They shrieking cry, "Our father is no more! + O where shall we our lonely refuge seek? + + Where shall we find so true, so kind a friend? + Where shall we find a sharer in our grief? + Where shall we find a Father to attend,-- + To wipe our tears, or point us to relief?" + + O haste! O haste! the house of prayer attend, + And plead your cause, bow'd at your Saviour's feet; + To Heaven daily let your prayers ascend, + And there a Friend, and Father you shall meet! + + Poor Morley's dead! the startled village cries! + His wife, a widow, has in tears to grieve! + While he, outstretched, now pale and silent lies, + Nor tongue, nor eye, nor hand a motion give! + + No more his whistle echo's through the grove, + Nor clashing gates pursue his loaded steed; + No more he through the fields doth rove, + To play the flute, or blow the rustic reed! + + No more the rolling flood's at his controul, + Nor willing servant runs when he shall bid; + But mournfully I hear the death bell toll, + To hail him welcome to his lonely bed! + + But Oh, the soul! That ever during spark, + Kindled in him by the Almighty's breath, + Still lives, though we her passage cannot mark!-- + She lives, though she hath pass'd the vale of death! + + Where has she fled? What is her portion now, + While I upon his death thus meditate? + 'Tis mystery this we mortals must not know,-- + And cries, "Prepare ye, for a future state!" + + Her portion's that for which she was prepar'd;-- + Though suddenly remov'd from earth below, + No more can she reject her just reward, + She shares eternal happiness, or woe! + + To trace her flight might but insult her King, + Since He for guilty sinners once did bleed!-- + The muse in silence drops her feeble wing, + Refusing any further to proceed! + + + + +THE SERVANT'S ADDRESS TO HIS MASTER; + + _On deriding him for becoming a Methodist!_ + + + Master, I beg you'll pardon, while I speak, + The liberty I now presume to take; + And trust the brief apology you'll hear, + Will please, if you will please to lend an ear. + + "Wilt thou forsake the Church?" did you not say? + "And strive to get to Heaven some nearer way? + A better way perhaps by you believ'd:-- + But 'twill be well if you are not deceiv'd?" + + Deceiv'd, or not, we are resolv'd to go; + If Christ be with us, all is well we know! + He is our Leader, He marks out the way, + Inviting all to come, and none to stay! + + The Church, or doctrine, we've no cause to blame, + 'Tis to ourselves that we ascribe the shame! + The way to heav'n was certainly made plain, + When told to "run so that we might obtain." + + Our prayers and praises were so faint and few, + We thought one day in seven would surely do, + To praise Him who is worthy of more praise, + Than our best powers are qualified to raise! + + Oft when we did approach the throne of grace, + Our hearts and thoughts were in some other place. + O shameful truth! And yet it is most true! + But conscience told us this would never do! + + The nearest way to Heaven that we can go, + Is cleaving close to Christ while here below; + 'Tis He that can our sinking footsteps stay, + And vain the man who seeks another way! + + The man who truly has this race begun, + Will see no time to stand, but strive to run; + The night is coming, and will soon be here, + He'll therefore oft betake himself to prayer: + + Lest strength should fail, or he should grow luke-warm, + And his weak soul, the enemy disarm! + That Book declares, whose Author is "The Truth," + The careless soul, "He'll spew out of his mouth!" + + Hence, doth he see he must be cold or hot; + Must either have the Spirit of Christ, or not:-- + If on examination he lacks this, + God's Book declares that "he is none of His!" + + If not a child of God, a child of hell, + And dying thus, he must with devils dwell;-- + And when his earthly hopes have taken flight, + Be then shut up in everlasting night! + + A sinner when he sees himself aright, + Sees that his brightest day is turned to night; + The things that once were his delight and joy, + Do all his fondest hopes at once destroy! + + God's Book like Sinai's mount to him appears, + Its sentences like thunder stun his ears! + He strives to soothe himself, but strives in vain, + Till God, to him the secret doth explain. + + He sees and feels the awful load of sin, + Nor can aught ease the grief that he is in, + Until he hears God's cheering, still small voice, + Which calms his fears, and bids his soul rejoice! + + A man must know his sins on earth forgiven, + Or he'll not read his title clear for Heaven; + If this you think too strong to be believ'd, + I'm sure, in death, that you will be deceiv'd! + + I am resolv'd a pilgrim now to be, + Let worldly men say what they will of me; + And through the grace of God, though Hell resist, + I'll live and die a faithful Methodist! + + I see the pilgrim's life is far the best, + Scorn'd by the world, but yet by Jesus blest! + When death shall come, the Heav'nly land in view, + In peace, I'll bid this world of sin Adieu! + + + + +SABBATH MORNING MUSINGS. + + "_I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house + of the Lord._" Psalm. cxxii. 1. + + + How do I love thy courts, O Lord! + What glories they unfold: + The joys they do to me afford, + More precious are than gold! + + The very gates through which I pass, + Are beautiful to me! + What numbers here beneath the grass, + In silent slumber lie! + + While I approach this solemn ground, + My thoughts I will controul;-- + The tolling bell, with mournful sound, + Affects my inmost soul! + + While musing o'er the silent dead, + What wonders do I see! + The very dust on which I tread, + Once liv'd, and mov'd like me! + + Here things mysterious I perceive, + Things which I can't explain;-- + Wak'd by that voice which Heav'n shall give, + This dust shall "rise again!" + + Then some to everlasting life, + Exultingly shall rise; + While some to everlasting death, + Shall go with weeping eyes! + + Such as we sow, that shall we reap; + The sowing time is now:-- + O may I watch, and faithful, keep + My station at the plough! + + O what's this world with all its joys, + But a delusive dream; + The dead, as speaking witnesses, + All testify the same. + + They preach in lectures loud and plain, + Though silent, cold, and deep; + They tell me, if the earth remain, + I soon like them shall sleep! + + They cry to all, "Repent, believe, + And you shall pardon'd be; + Unless that blessing you receive, + You're lost eternally!" + + The dial faithful to its task, + The sun in yonder sky, + Both show to us without a mask, + How swift the moments fly! + + "Redeem thy time!" they seem to say, + "Thy life is but a span; + For what are three score years and ten? + And that's the age of man!" + + Here on a level all are laid, + Here none the conquest have! + The robes that once the rich array'd, + Are tarnish'd by the grave! + + The cheek which blossom'd like the rose, + Has lost its lovely charms; + That beauteous form the lover chose, + Is clasp'd in Death's cold arms. + + All earthly hopes, and earthly joys, + And prospects must decay;-- + But they who serve their God aright, + Shall live in endless day! + + How wondrously the scene is chang'd! + How lovely they appear! + I view them in their state arrang'd, + With more delight than fear! + + Ah! once the scene was not so fair, + I scarce could read a stone! + But grace can conquer slavish fear,-- + With joy I look thereon! + + The opening grave oft spoil'd the hinge, + On which my fancy play'd; + The skulls and bones would make me cringe, + While I their forms survey'd. + + Chill horror used to haunt my breast, + While sin therein remain'd;-- + But Jesu's name be ever blest, + I have his favour gain'd! + + 'Tis faith perfumes destruction's breath, + Our Jesu's strong to save; + 'Tis faith removes the sting of death, + The terrors of the grave! + + How oft have I in giddy maze, + This sacred passage trod! + Not thinking 'twas so pure a place, + Much less the house of God! + + His mercy doth preserve me still, + He doth not always chide; + But waits that all His love may feel, + Since he for all hath died. + + Behind some lofty pillar here, + In silence let me steal; + And tread His courts with humble fear, + And low before him kneel. + + With fearful, trembling, broken heart, + To him I lift mine eyes; + And wait till He his love impart, + And conscience bid me rise! + + Then will I praise Thee, O my God, + When in my heart it glows! + And gladly wait to hear thy Word, + And catch it as it flows! + + Then may I keep thy sabbaths pure, + And still thy house attend; + Until that sabbath shall commence, + Which never hath an end! + + + + +LINES ON LEAVING FRYUP, IN SEARCH OF WORK. + + + I'm sorry, Fryup! thee to leave, + But thou deniest what I crave, + Though I have ask'd with tears! + Oft have I drunk at thy pure rills, + And labour'd 'mongst thy moorland hills, + For many toilsome years! + + 'Twas oft to me a painful task, + Thine aid in time of need to ask, + So often sought before; + And many times my small demand, + Was torn, as with a trembling hand, + Reluctant from thy store! + + Oft have I rang'd thy verdant woods, + Where roses bursting from their buds, + Have struck my wondering eye! + And oft have I thy woodbines cropt:-- + While from my hand the sweet flowers dropt, + I've thought,--I too must die! + + Here, with each morning's early dawn, + I lov'd to walk the flowery lawn, + To hear thy warblers sing! + Or when at eve their songs were mute, + I've sooth'd my fancy with my flute, + And made thy woodlands ring! + + I've seen thy mountains clad with snow, + While shelter'd in the vale below, + 'Midst hospitable friends! + For all their kindnesses to me, + May Heav'n bless every family, + And make them full amends! + + But trade is now so dull and dead, + A man can hardly earn his bread, + In winter's frost and snow: + So I must take my staff in hand, + And travel to some distant land, + Till here more plenty grow! + + I grieve to leave the Sunday School, + Where I with gratitude of soul, + Have taught with great delight, + The youthful, rising sons of men, + To steer safe past the gulf of sin, + By glorious gospel light. + + With men of understanding heart, + I always joy'd to act my part, + Where I may teach no more:-- + Where I, myself have oft been taught, + And blessings gain'd beyond my thought, + From Heaven's bounteous store! + + As when the sailor points the keel, + For ancient Greenland's icy field, + So I my course must steer! + I need assistance at the helm, + Lest life's rough sea should overwhelm + My soul,--no harbour near! + + For quicksands and contrary winds, + And enemies as well as friends, + I still expect to find: + There is a Friend who lives above, + To all who do His precepts love, + He proves both true and kind! + + To Him I will address my prayer; + My little bark unto His care, + With confidence I'll trust! + A steady course, O may I steer, + And if to Him I prove sincere, + He'll land me safe at last! + + + + +THE SWALLOW! + + (_On being deprived of her nest by some Sparrows._) + + + A Swallow one evening was sweeping along, + 'Mongst such as against her were spiteful, + An impudent Sparrow requested a song, + Affirming her voice was delightful! + The innocent Swallow consented, + But afterwards sadly repented; + For the nest she had been at such pains to erect, + She was soon from enjoying prevented! + + To the ridge of the barn they hurried along, + As fast as their feathers could speed them, + Where she tweedled and sung, in her African tongue, + Her favourite anthem on Freedom! + While she was this Sparrow amusing, + The rest were her labours abusing;-- + They had taken possession both of garret and floor, + And were in her best chamber carousing! + + When the Sparrow beheld by the flood in her eye, + How much this bad treatment did grieve her, + With contempt in his manner he bade her good by + Nor pitied, nor tried to relieve her! + Still her sweet little song did not alter, + Her delicate voice did not falter; + But she tweedled and sung what was next to be done, + As though she alone was the faulter! + + Reproving the Sparrows she then seem'd to say, + "To you we are surely no strangers; + To pay you this visit, in crossing the sea,-- + We encounter a great many dangers. + O Sparrows! why have you betray'd us? + 'Tis cruelty thus to invade us! + We bring summer with us, take nothing away, + O Sparrows! why have you betray'd us?" + + + + +A CALL TO THE CARELESS! + + + Awake! O ye sleepers, awake! + Or soon you will smart 'neath the rod! + Be thankful you're not in the lake, + That burns with the anger of God! + + Your life as a vapour will prove, + Your days as a shadow will flee; + Then seek to have treasure above, + And struggle from sin to be free! + + O sinners! be honest and yield + To the Spirit of God when He strives; + Or you will be slain in the field, + When He with His army arrives! + + This Jesus shall conquer the world! + The proud and the lofty subdue! + With terrible banners unfurl'd, + Shall sift both believers and you:-- + + The poor, not because he is poor, + Nor the rich for his riches regard; + But thoroughly purging His floor, + Appoint unto each his reward! + + Believers! who wish to be whole;-- + A fountain long open hath been, + To wash out the spots of the soul,-- + O hasten to wash and be clean! + + When sin shall experience its death, + Then you the grand secret shall know; + Shall Heaven enjoy upon Earth, + And be happy and useful below! + + + + +TO A HORSE, DYING ALONE! + + + Poor, hapless beast, thus left by all below, + Amongst the noblest of God's creatures, thou, + Once free from pain, + Didst trip the plain; + But Oh! how much thy case is alter'd now! + + Thy groom and master seem to stand aloof! + Is it, because of thee they've had enough? + Is it respect, + Or sheer neglect, + That of their care thou hast no stronger proof? + + Perhaps they do not like to hear or see + Thy last deep groan, thy dying agony! + The grass upspurn'd, + Thine eye upturn'd, + Bespeak its weight to heedless passers by! + + That hoarse deep sigh, the sad effect of sin, + Proclaims the depth of agony within! + On man and beast, + Greatest and least, + Grim Death doth feed, and glad his victim win! + + The blue shade gathers on thy glassy eye, + So sternly fix'd upon the evening sky; + Once full of light, + Through darkest night, + It proved its master's guide to home and family! + + Thy lovely form, once beauteous to behold, + For which thy master parted with his gold; + And this thy dappled hide, + Though once its owner's pride, + Now for a thing of nought will soon be sold! + + That ear through which the slightest sound inspir'd + Vigour, when pressing business oft requir'd; + Already cold as clay, + Doth now inactive lay, + Nor startles at that gun which now is fired! + + Thy frolics and thy gambols now are past, + Thy last stage is run;--thou art dying fast: + Perhaps ere I, + At home shall be, + Thou unattended wilt have breath'd thy last! + + The stall is vacant where thou lov'dst to be, + The curb and saddle now are nought to thee! + The whip and spur, + Thou car'st not for, + But leav'st to others as thy legacy! + + While I string up my rhymes to make them chord, + And thus thy melancholy fate record, + Perhaps near thee, + In some old tree, + The lonely night bird sings thy funeral ode! + + +MORAL. + + Some while their cup is full can laugh at Death, + And light esteem that power which lends them breath; + But be that far, + As yon pale star, + From him who now its progress witnesseth! + + Did men but see how near is his approach, + They would with morning sun, or nightly torch, + Themselves prepare, + And search with care, + And strictly watch each avenue and porch! + + Nor would they rest, at business or in bed, + Till every foe was found, and captive led; + Till all the soul, + From stains most foul, + Was wash'd, or till the contrite tear was shed! + + A fountain from the mount of God doth flow, + For all who will take time and pains to go, + Whose healing stream, + Doth freely teem, + To wash polluted sinners white as snow! + + A soul thus wash'd shall joyful rise again, + By Death unscar'd, and on angelic wing, + Shall mount above, + To Him whose love + And power deprive the monster of his sting! + + + + +MUSINGS DURING AFFLICTION; + +OR + +THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS. + + "_He shall fly away as a dream._" (Job. xx. 8.) + + + While here I sit musing alone, + Not sharing the toils of the day, + My spirit doth inwardly groan, + At the symptoms I feel of decay. + + My care burden'd mind can't be still, + Though the external fabric be maim'd; + Some part must be working the will + Of Him who that fabric hath framed. + + The merchant looks over his books, + And hopes well to finish the day; + So life hath some corners and nooks, + It might not be wrong to survey. + + If the morning of life we behold, + When all seems delightful and bright, + The rosebud doth scarcely unfold, + But 'tis gone as a dream of the night! + + If to youth our attention we turn, + When all is enchanting and free; + When very few know how to mourn, + And all things seem pleasant and gay. + + A something we sought in the fields,-- + Alas! as oft sought it in vain! + The joys that such scenery yields, + Are such as we cannot retain. + + We sought in the meadows and groves, + In the woods, by the rivers and streams; + But all our vain hopes and our loves, + Were like wood to the furnace's flames! + + The old pathway still puts us in mind, + Though its stones are forsaken and green, + Of youthful affections, so kind, + Though now scarce a vestige is seen! + + We long have been wandering abroad, + And have learn'd to sorrow and weep; + While some have been lost on the road, + And others have sunk in the deep! + + In the fire-side circle we sought, + But found by the glimmering light, + That soon as the shadows we caught; + They fled like a dream of the night! + + There were some whom we knew in the flesh, + Seem'd happy, and healthy, and strong; + But before they obtain'd their wish, + They, alas! in a moment were gone! + + 'Twas gloomy and dark at their end, + No light in their death did appear; + That happiness would them attend, + Was hoped--but hope turn'd to despair! + + Alas! how neglectful they lived, + How sad an example they set, + How many fair youths were deceiv'd, + Who are not yet free from the net! + + They surely had time to repent, + To weep, and to sorrow, and pray; + But time that should thus have been spent, + Was wantonly squander'd away. + + They quick were cut off at a stroke, + Were hurried away from our sight; + The bonds of their friendship all broke, + They fled like a dream of the night. + + Though long in the grave they have lain, + And long since have gone to decay, + Remembrance can raise them again, + As fresh as they were in life's day. + + We remember the look of the face, + The language that glanc'd from the eye, + The cough, or the laugh, or some grace, + By which we their forms can descry. + + How short our acquaintance appears, + Our pleasures, how swift was their flight! + Before we could number their years, + They fled as a dream of the night! + + In manhood we sought it abroad, + And mix'd with the mirthful and gay, + When liberty lengthen'd the cord, + And tempted our feet far astray. + + Then away to the races and fairs, + When seasons and friends did invite; + To the shows, to the stalls, and their wares, + And to music and dancing at night! + + We sought it by land and by sea,-- + Where'er we directed our eyes, + All said, "Pleasure is not in me! + My beauty is all a disguise!" + + O Happiness! where dost thou dwell? + O where shall we search with success? + From the court to the cottage or cell, + All seem the abodes of distress! + + Oft have we reflected with pain, + And fancied while counting the cost, + If restor'd to childhood again, + We'd recover the thing we had lost. + + Then happiness seem'd to be ours,-- + We roved by the river or glen; + The birds, and the bushes, and flowers, + Appear'd as a paradise then! + + Yon hill, and the stone on the plain, + Remind us whenever we pass, + Where we in a fairy-like train, + Have scamper'd about on the grass! + + Gone by are our childhood and youth, + And gone is each transient delight; + They told us,--who told us the truth,-- + They'd pass as a dream of the night. + + By the faithful discourse of a friend, + We were told, whether cloudy or bright, + This life, long or short, in the end, + Would depart as a dream of the night:-- + + That in vain among shadows and flowers, + We sought satisfaction within; + True pleasure could never be ours, + Till the heart had been broken for sin + + The heart, until such was the case, + Was so puff'd up with pride and deceit, + That no matter how splendid the feast, + That root bitter'd every thing sweet! + + He would prove by the sacred page, + And by men of experience too, + It had been so in every age, + And continues so, even till now! + + Until sin was expos'd to the light, + In the glass of the Gospel was view'd, + We could not enjoy true delight,-- + Till the heart had been chang'd and renew'd. + + Nor need we now ask any more, + Why a thing which so many pursue, + And to gain will all things explore, + Should be truly possess'd by so few. + + In all earth's extensive domain, + 'Midst all the sweet breezes that blow, + In mountain, or forest, or plain, + Where Eden like luxuries grow;-- + + Amid all the fair branches and free, + Inviting their clusters to share, + One tree, and only one tree, + This heav'nly manna will bear. + + That tree of celestial seed, + By heav'nly culture doth rise;-- + That man from his sins might be freed, + 'Twas sent as a gift from the skies! + + But many the tree did deride, + And oft of its fruit did complain, + Since to gain it they often had tried, + But return'd to their folly again! + + They made it a matter of doubt, + That it had been planted for them:-- + Repentance, and Faith were the root, + And Holiness grew on the stem! + + Some as they pass'd by gave a glance, + Made remark on the wilderness bare; + And affirm'd with eye all askance, + No semblance of beauty was there. + + Though to plant it the Saviour of men + Hath sorrow'd, and suffer'd, and bled; + And His Spirit pour'd out as a stream, + Hath His heav'nly influence shed. + + You see, when the secret is told, + And the riddle's expounded to all, + It was planted in Eden of old, + But had been torn up by the fall! + + So Christ hath in love to His church, + Thus rear'd this plant of renown, + To screen when the sun's rays might scorch, + And to cheer when our spirits are down. + + Whoe'er of its produce partakes, + Whatever objections arise, + Through the Cross, and the choice that he makes, + Shall be holy, and happy, and wise! + + Then we to His temple shall run, + And worship with joy and delight; + Our trials while under the sun, + Will pass as a dream of the night! + + + + +THE PLAY! + + On being solicited to attend a Theatre, by two young women, who + urged their entreaties by the argument, "There is no harm in + attending the Play!" + + + Ye daughters of Albion's flourishing isle, + Come listen awhile to my lay; + Defending your morals, you say with a smile, + "There's no harm in attending the Play!" + + Ye Theatre gallants, and deep witted men, + Whose counsels so many obey, + Come lend a poor ignorant rustic a pen, + And he'll help you to plead for the Play! + + If you are not immortal, but end when you die, + As some have the courage to say, + Why need you look out for a mansion on high, + You've nothing to fear from the Play! + + If you are immortal, yet free from the fall, + And never have wander'd astray; + If you have no sin to repent of at all, + You've nothing to fear from the Play! + + If Christ in His word, has left no command, + For people to watch and to pray, + If an house cannot fall that is built on the sand, + There's no harm in attending the Play! + + Not calling in question your baptismal vow, + If life's like a long summer's day, + And you have not to reap such fruit as ye sow, + There's no harm in attending the Play! + + If the Christian's creed from the truth be reverse, + And the fair crown of life can decay; + If the Bible be false, and Religion a farce, + There's no harm in attending the Play! + + Should a visit from Death come and put you in mind + Of your frail habitation of clay, + You may try to obstruct the unwelcome design, + With the transient delights of the Play! + + If a faithful reproof you should happen to meet, + You can soon turn your faces away, + And pass by the blind and the lame in the street, + And carry your cash to the Play! + + But if Parsons themselves so often attend, + Then surely their followers may; + And no wonder that they so well can defend, + The moral effects of the Play. + + If Wesley and Whitfield have pleaded in vain, + And led their disciples astray; + Let Simpson and Hervey in silence remain, + You've nothing to fear from the Play. + + If you of your time have to give no account, + At the last, the great Judgment day, + The troubles of life you may quickly surmount, + By clapping them off at the Play. + + If safe 'midst seduction and ruin you roam, + You may laugh at the stoppers away, + Who sit pining and pulling long faces at home, + And are missing the joys of the Play. + + Should the roof be crush'd in, and you kill'd we'll suppose, + Why some angel would bear you away, + To some distant region of milder repose, + Where your spirit might dream of the Play. + + Having no tribulation, no robe wash'd in blood, + Nor tears that need wiping away, + You might sing in those realms to the praise of your god, + How oft you had been at the Play. + + + + +THE REMOTE CHRISTIAN. + + + Deep in a glen, remote and wild, + And far from affluence, + A cottage stood, and heaven smil'd, + Upon that residence. + + A couple liv'd there many years, + In love and unity; + Who careful in this vale of tears, + Had rear'd a family. + + No costly goods their cot adorn, + No shining liveries wait; + For them no huntsman sounds his horn, + No carriage at the gate. + + A simple, honest peasant, free, + Not with much learning stored; + Though thus remote, yet happily, + Had sought and found the Lord. + + Where neither moth nor rust can harm, + Nor thieves can ere invade, + Beyond the reach of human arm, + Was his heart's treasure laid. + + Around his farm, or in his field, + The moor birds hatch'd and fed; + And when at work, the lapwing cried, + And flutter'd o'er his head. + + While thus his little field he drain'd, + Or temper'd the wild sod, + His household too with care were train'd, + To love and fear their God. + + The field, the garden, and the tree, + For him their produce bore, + His table too, the bee supplied, + From her delicious store. + + The Lord who thus his substance blest, + Did all his wants supply; + And pleasantly to quench his thirst, + A brook ran murmuring by. + + I saw him on his dying bed, + When strength began to fail, + I saw him lift his languid head,-- + And heard his happy tale. + + He then began to bless the day, + His sins had been made known, + When he began to weep and pray, + And look'd to Christ alone. + + He bless'd that Book his heart had cheer'd, + And tried its worth to tell; + He bles'd that Blood which once was shed, + To save his soul from hell. + + Yes! Christ to him was precious then, + His company was sweet; + He said, His love was in his heart, + The world beneath his feet. + + This, when the monster Death arriv'd, + Did solid comfort bring; + That blood he felt had quite depriv'd + The monster of his sting. + + "This body chang'd, shall soon," said he, + "With saints and angels join, + And sing to all eternity, + The depths of Love Divine!" + + + + +SOLITARY REFLECTIONS! + + (_Occasioned by the death of a newly married pair, who drowned + themselves, after living together three weeks._) + + + On Esk's old bank the watery willows weep, + Where wife and husband launch'd into the deep;-- + And from their cottage sought an early grave, + To end their jarring, in the peaceful wave + + Ah, hapless pair! who can withhold the tear, + When he the melancholy place draws near! + The dire event to future times will prove, + The short enjoyment of your wedded love! + + How apt are earthly prospects to deceive, + And leave her disappointed sons to grieve! + How oft will trifling things the mind perplex, + Where grace doth not her influences mix! + + The morning shines,--to church they haste away, + And noisy guns proclaim the wedding day; + Within three weeks to the dark grave they're borne, + To slumber till the Resurrection morn! + + Around, the neighbours mourn their hapless lot, + And weeping children haunt the dreary spot; + The lippering wave, rais'd by the nightly gale, + Tells to the Moon her melancholy tale! + + + + +ON SOME WHO HAD LEFT US, AND SPOKEN DISRESPECTFULLY OF US! + + "_There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and + yet is not washed from their filthiness._" (Proverbs xxx. 12.) + + + Yes! once they met with us, and gave us the hand, + Uniting to sing and to pray; + But long could not bear the rigid command, + So off they went lilting away! + + Forsaking the vulgar, whom now they despise, + For doctrines more learned and pure;-- + This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes, + This doctrine they could not endure! + + They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain, + Our faults and our failings expose; + Because this perfection they cannot attain, + They'll plead for their muffs and their boas! + + So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks, + They'll laugh at a sinner in tears; + Their prayers are lock'd up in their finely bound books, + While they're trimming their necks and their ears! + + The new birth's convulsions they cannot have felt, + Or they dare not speak as they do; + Their heart is too proud into nothing to melt, + And must, while to mammon they bow. + + Whenever their dwelling you chance to approach, + Of their soft invitation beware; + The pharisee's leaven, the good man's reproach, + And the seat of the scorner are there! + + To folks of high breeding they offer their pledge, + 'Gainst others to raise a complaint; + They'll skim on the surface, and trim off the edge, + To pass for a dignified saint! + + The God of Elijah who sees through the heart, + These specious impostors will spurn, + And send them in spite of their cunning and art, + Where they will eternally mourn! + + + + +THERE IS A GOD! + + "_The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God._" (Psalm + xiv. 1) + + + There is a God who rules above! + And man's the object of His love! + And Jesus, His beloved Son, + Hath bled, and died to make this known. + + Though man his attributes deny, + And utter daring blasphemy, + He shall be conquer'd from above, + By Justice, Judgment, or by Love. + + Though he be lusty now, and strong, + And bold in ribaldry and song, + A time will come when he must flit, + And to a stronger arm submit. + + Then Death will disregard his groans, + And time will melt his giant bones, + If no contrition he shall feel, + His sins will sink him into hell. + + While there he drinks the bitter cup, + The dust shall lick his marrow up; + His tongue within the grave shall rot, + While name and memory are forgot. + + On that dread morn when all shall rise, + The righteous whom he did despise, + Shall over him dominion have, + And all the terrors of the grave. + + + + +CONFIRMATION. + + + The stars recede, the morn appears, + So long anticipated! + The air which now the spirit cheers, + With shouts is agitated! + + The rustics full of mirth and glee, + Are big with expectation, + Of what they are to hear and see, + When they're at Confirmation! + + The road is fill'd from side to side, + With bonny lads and lasses; + With country bloom, and village pride, + Gigs, horses, mules, and asses! + + With whip and spur, they dash along, + As though to fair or races; + With artificial feathers hung, + And veils before their faces! + + But few know what they're going to do, + Or they are strangely lied on; + They're careless of the solemn vow, + As is the steed they ride on! + + They go, because their neighbours go, + Without consideration; + And think all pass for Christians, who + Are pass'd at Confirmation! + + A few there are, but few we fear, + Their faith by works expressing; + And oft in private on their knees, + They wrestle for a blessing! + + The greater part of them by far, + Will carry a Cain's offering; + They're strangers to the morning star, + To royal David's offspring! + + A hope they have, but cannot tell + On what that hope is grounded;-- + Thus like some old Egyptian spell, + It cannot be expounded! + + The carnal mind still bears the sway, + For want of resolution; + And scatter'd tribes, still day by day, + Profane the institution! + + In spite of lectures orthodox, + Of Bishops, prayers, and caution, + They, greedy as the thirsty ox, + Drink in the deadly potion! + + The scribes may write with mournful pen, + The Church's lamentation; + While year by year, they seek in vain, + The fruits of Confirmation! + + + + +THE MAN OF THE WORLD! + + + From a boy much indulg'd, he grew up to a man, + And had liberty almost unbounded; + Nor scarce ever thought of this life's little span, + With prospects of plenty surrounded! + + His steed, like himself, in high spirits he views, + As it snuffs at the fresh flowing fountain; + On which oft at daybreak he brushes the dews, + And gallops o'er valley and mountain! + + His cheek round and fat, wears the hue of the rose, + He seems quite a stranger to sorrow; + And while on his sofa his limbs find repose, + He laughs loudly, and talks of to-morrow! + + "To-morrow," says he, "you must call up the hounds, + As soon as the light is appearing!"-- + Not thinking that Death while rambling his rounds, + To his mansion a message is bearing, + + "To-morrow," says he, "we'll unkennel the fox, + Or in his old cabin we'll crush him; + Or when we have got him away from the rocks, + In spite of Old Harry we'll brush him! + + And then we will dine on the lamb or the goose, + Which, if he had liv'd would have fill'd him; + Then o'er a full bumper we'll have a carouse, + And we'll sing where he fell, and who kill'd him!" + + But ah! when life's stern disappointment he meets, + Like a lion imprison'd he grieves, + That he who expected so much of life's sweets, + So soon of its bitters receives! + + Disease o'er his fortified barriers leaps, + And with internal pain soon afflicts him;-- + Next into his chamber the pale monster creeps, + And singles him out as his victim! + + Like a leaf that in autumn falls dead from the tree, + Soon a train is seen weeping behind him:-- + A visit I made, his improvements to see, + And I look'd, but alas, could not find him! + + + + +THE RULE OF CONTRARY! + + + Some men have Rules so incorrect, + They almost always vary; + And some make Rules to gain respect, + But I'm for one contrary! + + Some strive to gain the smiles of men, + But I prefer their frown; + The torrent of my pride to stem, + And keep ambition down! + + The praise of men's an empty thing, + And crowns and sceptres vain, + To him who seeks the "living spring," + As parch'd lands look for rain! + + Some recommend the hearty laugh, + But I prefer the tear, + Which tells me that my heart is soft, + My hope of heaven is clear! + + Some say, "Give me the tavern song!" + But I prefer the sigh, + Which though unnoticed by the throng, + Yet pierces to the sky! + + Some say, "Give me that pleasing look, + Which does the fancy win!" + But give me one that's plain without, + If she be fair within! + + Some plead for ornamental dress, + The concert and the ball; + Except the Robe of Righteousness, + Let me be stript of all! + + Some love with dealers dark to dwell, + And glory in the night; + But I would shun the road to hell, + Therefore I love the light! + + Some love their minds with tales to feed, + Of regions yet untrod;-- + When I've a little time to read, + Give me the Book of God! + + Some praise a head of natural wit + And worldly wisdom full; + Without the truths of Holy Writ, + Give me an empty skull! + + The jet, the gold, or ivory cross, + By many is admir'd; + But I esteem the blood of Him, + Who on the cross expir'd! + + My heart with sin as crimson dyed, + Would ever so remain; + But if that blood by faith's applied, + 'Twill cleanse from every stain! + + With some their fill of pleasure here, + Is all the good they crave:-- + Give me a humble, holy fear, + A hope beyond the grave! + + At wisdom's shrine I'll light my torch, + And in her pleasant ways, + Under the Nazarene's reproach, + I'll live out all my days! + + Thus whether sanction'd or despis'd, + Such is my fancy's Rule; + In keeping which I shall be wise, + Although accounted fool! + + Let the free thinker take the hint, + And with my creed agree; + That all are not compell'd to think, + Nor speak the same as he! + + + + +ON FINDING SOME DEISTICAL BOOKS IN THE HOUSE OF ONE WHO ONCE FEARED GOD! + + "_How is the gold become dim!_" (Lamen. iv. 1.) + + + False publications throw their gloomy rays, + Where once the Sun of Righteousness did shine; + With pain we recollect the former days, + While scoffing infidels their voices join! + + Insulting Heav'n, they oft with brazen brow, + Deny our Saviour is the Son of God! + But soon to Him their every knee shall bow, + And they shall groan beneath His iron rod! + + What madness to defy His power above, + To slight that blood which has their souls redeem'd; + To him who does his God sincerely love, + How painful 'tis to hear His name blasphem'd! + + O let us flee these men of wicked minds, + Whose glory reaches not beyond the grave; + Who to accomplish their absurd designs, + Dethrone our King, and style the conquest brave! + + Yet still He reigns, and shall for ever hold, + In massy chains the gloomy powers of Hell; + They soon His second coming shall behold, + And howling, see the place from whence they fell! + + Ah! surely Satan's thousand years are up, + And he once more is suffer'd loose to go! + His object is to stagger Israel's hope, + And drag them captive to his den below! + + Come down, O Lord! and bid thy thunders roll! + Send forth thy lightnings, and thy foes consume! + O let them know that thou wilt them controul, + In each, and all the shapes which they assume! + + Gird on thy sword, thou mighty matchless King! + Reclaim these poor deluded sons of men! + O save them from the cruel serpent's sting; + And drive him back to his infernal den! + + If Israel's hope is not quite lost in death, + May these dry bones the Word of God receive! + Come from the four winds, O reviving breath, + And breathe upon these slain, that they may live! + + + + +ON VISITING FRYUP, DURING A GREAT REVIVAL. + + + O Fryup! far distant thy fame now extends, + Kind Heav'n doth thy breaches repair; + Thou land of religion, and bibles, and friends, + I rejoice to breathe thy pure air! + + Thou land of devotion, and health to the soul, + With pleasure I walk o'er thy plains; + Where Christ to the sick hath oft spoken, "Be whole!" + Where religion, where righteousness reigns! + + With earnest desire I've long wish'd to see, + The beauties which now I behold; + This visit has proved more refreshing to me, + Than thousands of silver, or gold! + + The day spring of glory hath visited thee, + For joy thy inhabitant sings; + The bright Sun of Righteousness riseth on thee, + And healing's receiv'd from his wings! + + His influence too, I have felt in my soul, + With gratitude now I confess; + May all his opposers yield to his control, + And sinners be saved by his grace! + + As lights in a land long benighted and dark, + May thy sons and thy daughters arise; + While faith to a flame fans the Heav'nly spark, + And they earnestly press to the skies! + + May the husband incessantly plead for the wife, + The wife for her husband contend; + That the favour of God which is better than life, + May on both through the Spirit descend! + + May the lover's petition be heard for the fair, + And the maiden prevail for the youth; + Till all those who for righteousness never did care, + Feel the force of Religion and Truth! + + May thy ministers fill'd with the Spirit of God, + As giants prevail o'er their foes; + Their word prove more sharp than a two edged sword, + In defence of their King and his laws! + + May thy sinners be sav'd on every hand, + Believers be steadfast and true;-- + With sorrow, once more, I now quit thy fair land, + Old Fryup! and bid thee adieu! + + + + +THE THREE VOICES! + + +_1st._ _The Voice of Conscience says_, + Man! mind thyself, and all thyself; + Thy inner self, thy outer self, + Thy present self, thy future self, + The best of self, and worst of self; + Or it may chance that thou, thyself, + For ever may'st upbraid thyself, + For making such a fool of self, + As not in time to know thyself! + +_2nd._ _The Voice of the Flesh says_, + O Man! do thou enjoy thyself, + For why should'st thou annoy thyself, + Or strangely thus employ thyself, + In seeking thus to know thyself, + When other men are like thyself! + Beware lest thou destroy thyself! + Be not a burden to thyself, + While thou hast life within thyself! + +_3rd._ _The Voice of the Devil says_, + Fine man, think highly of thyself! + Put no restraint upon thyself; + Nor with religion plague thyself! + For thou art not so bad as self + Would sometimes make thee think thyself! + To my advice submit thyself, + And in thy lusts indulge thyself;-- + Then I at last shall get thyself! + + + + +A DIALOGUE + + Between Rosedale Bob and Hartoft John, on a Speech delivered by + the Venerable The Archdeacon P----, L.L.D., at a Bible Meeting + held in the new Church, Rosedale. + + +_John._--What cheer, awd stock? say what's ther beean te doo, + 'At macks ye leeak seea dark aboot yer broo? + Yoo leeak as thof yer parliament petition + Had met wi' sum romantic opposition! + Or mebby yoo hev met wi' sum abuse, + Or fra' sum quarter heeard sum heavy news! + Perhaps the trial may cum clooaser still, + Yer wife or childer may be takken ill. + +_Bob._--Alas! the news Ah hev te tell's seea bad, + The fields an' forests seeam i' moorning clad; + By men unauthorized an' unordeean'd, + Oor new erected Temple is profeean'd! + The cushions an' the tassels all are soil'd, + The bell's enchanted, an' oor woorship's spoil'd, + They've held in it, what's caus'd this desecration, + A meetin' for t' Baable's circulation. + +_John._--If that be all the thing's as leeght as chaff, + The fields an' fleeads may clap ther hands an' laff; + Sin' better sense is teeachin' greeat an' small, + Te send this glorious leeght fra' pole te pole! + 'Tis yan o' Jesus Christ's last greeat commands, + Te send this leeght te dark an' heathen lands. + Lets whooap the profit 'll ootweigh the loss;-- + If t'parson beean't t'Church 'll be neea worse! + +_Bob._--Whah, Ah's neea scholar, nowther will pertend + Te say, hoo far this mischief may extend. + Oor greeat Divine, afoore he left the pleeace, + He tell'd us positive it wur the keease: + Hiz argument did raise te that amoont, + The Church wur ruin'd on this seeame accoont; + When sike like wark the church's pillars shake, + Hiz maister's honner foorc'd him for te speak. + +_John._--Whether Divine, M.A., or L.L.D., + 'Tis lahtle matter whea or what he be: + The thing's reveal'd tiv us as clear as him, + What God approves man owght nut te condemn. + Whate'er may be his sacerdotal geeans, + The public, they may thenk him for hiz peeans; + 'At he seea fine a sample sud dispense + Ov college iddicated influence. + +_Bob._--Cud it be heeard an' understeead on reeght, + Daft Hannah's speech be quite as full o'leeght. + She thinks t'awd man sud nut ha' beean seea vext, + Bud tonn'd hiz leeaf an' teean anuther text. + The bad effects hez beean, she hez neea doot, + Wi' brush or beezom swept an' carried oot; + They teeak true pains te mack all clean an' clivver, + An' t' Church is noo as gud an' weel as ivver. + +_John._--Bud leeak thoo heer, this is the thing they dreead, + If yance t'Baable an' the truth be spreead, + The veil 'll fall fra' off the people's eyes, + An' t' commons then will as the lords be wise; + They then 'll graw so base i' disposition, + Te heigher powers they will disdain submission; + An' will te men ov honourable name, + Refuse that homage which ther titles claim! + +_Bob._--Then chapels will i' all directions rise, + Wi' saucy steeples moonting te the skies; + An' preeachers run, or ride on hoss or gig, + As rank as sheep that travel Blaca rig, + If sike proceedings further be alloo'd, + Awd England's sun 'll set behinnd a clood:-- + Nur need we wonder they alood procleeam, + Thooase men sal speeak neea longer i' this neeame. + +_John._--'At sike a meetin' sud be held i' t' church, + By men 'at scarce wur fit te stand i' t' porch, + Wur sike a stain upon its consecration, + As roused his reverence's indignation. + What cud thooase expect as ther reward, + Bud fra' sike bold attempts te be debarr'd; + Nur ivver mare mun they cum theer again, + Whahl he hiz sacred office does sustain! + If sike like doctrines spreead an' sud prevail, + Then Bishop's ordination treead 'll fail; + Then grace 'll mare than larning be admired, + An' priests stand i' the market place unhired: + Men will fra' ivvery secret corner creep, + Or oot o' coalpits into pulpits leap; + Whahl wi' ther gestures an' insinuations, + They'll rob the Churches o' ther congregations. + +_Bob._--Then fooaks 'll ton, like bees 'at's left the hive, + Seea stupid as te nowther leead nur drive, + Nur draw by gifts, nur binnd doon by oppression, + Nur scar by Apostolical Succession: + In vain a man may then hiz feeace disguise, + An' landlords ower ther tenants tyrannize. + Neea patchwark then 'll answer as afoore, + Nur gowns, nur blankets buy or sell the poor. + That Parson then by chance may loss hiz pleeace, + Whea hunts, or gallops i' the Steeple Chase; + Whea i' the ring appears a jovial fellow, + Sits by his wine or grog till he is mellow; + Then wi' hiz dogs pursues the grouse or game + Mare than the cottage ov the poor or lame; + Or if hiz gun sud chance te miss the mark + Te rap an' sweear, an' lie all t'bleeam o' t' clerk. + +_John._--Nur wonder thoo that venerable man, + Sud be seea feearful ov hiz treead an' clan; + If better leeght be spreead by land an' sea, + Oor heeame boond slaves 'll seek for liberty, + They'll finnd they're neean seea fit te show the way, + As thooase 'at walks theerin fra' day te day. + Bud God himsel has teeak the thing i' hand, + An' Baable Meetings yet sal bless oor land; + Oor God 'll raise up men ov noble soul, + An' He the sleepy churches will controul: + Will send hiz sarvants whea hiz judgements knaw, + Te thunner oot the terrors ov His law; + Whahl Jesus will hiz meeghty airm mack bare, + An' tack the flocks himsel into hiz care. + +_Bob._--Sike laws amang oor heeigh up chaps exist, + As labouring men finnd hard for te resist. + O't' Sabbath days they rob beeath God an' man, + That scribe may preeav this statement fause as can. + All hands mun haste seean as they hear the bell, + To t'steeple hoose let t'priest be what he will; + An' thooase 'at izzen't satisfied wi' t'kirk, + Mun owther quit ther farm or loss ther woark. + +_John._--Thooase laws mitch differ fra' the laws ov heaven, + Fra' God te man for holy purpose given; + Peace te promote an' put an end te strife, + Te regulate hiz hoosehod an' hiz life. + In holy days afoore the churches fell, + Neea music soonded like the sabbath bell; + The ministers wur thoughtful, holy men, + Nur threeats wur needed, nur compulsion then. + +_Bob._--Yan wad be fain sike days again te see, + An' hear fooaks sing wi' love an' melody, + As yan hez reead i' bukes ov holy men, + 'At nowther cared for fire nur lion's den: + Bud dreeaded sin wi' all its scorpion stings, + Mare than the wrath ov heathen priests an' kings. + All whea te God in meek submission boo, + Thof t'way be dark, He'll awlus bring 'em throo. + +_John._--Jist wait a whahl, till taame reverse the scene, + An' Anti-Christ hez hed hiz pompous reign; + When persecution wi' her torch an' foark, + Sets carnal men an' ministers te woark, + Te help the Beast te mack hiz proselytes, + Te purge hiz fleer, an' bon the hypocrites:-- + Then thooase whea live, an' hev the truth maintained, + I' cleearer leeght 'll hev the thing explained. + + + + +A LOVE LETTER! + + (_To Miss ----_) + + + Forgive a stranger who would make so free, + As to declare a suitor's love for thee; + And by the strength of his affection, move + Thy heart to render back responsive love! + + The language these few humble lines impart, + Though it seem rude, is from an honest heart; + From one whose only aim and object is, + Thy Lover's glory, and thy future bliss. + + Not for myself would I now intercede, + For I, alas, no excellence can plead; + My handsomest attire is homely spun, + And many years my glass of life hath run! + + I plead the cause of Him, at whose command, + Thy soul shall one day in his presence stand; + And thou for ever may'st lament the change, + If once His love be turn'd into revenge! + + Of all thy list of lovers finely drest, + He told me secretly He was the first; + That even in thy youthful frolics wild, + His love was on thee, from a very child! + + That often he has stood without thy door, + While thou did'st other swains prefer before: + That oft the tear hath dim'd his eye so bright, + His locks all dripping with the dews of night! + + He needs not thus admit of rivals, when + He is the fairest of the sons of men! + He wooes the world, and those who hear his voice, + Seldom, if ever, rue their happy choice. + + He says for thee He has in battle bled, + And carried weighty sorrows in thy stead; + To save thy soul from infinite distress, + He bruis'd the monster in the wilderness! + + Nay, language fails, to say by land or sea, + What perils He hath undergone for thee; + Yea, many a bitter cup, and piercing smart, + His soul hath felt to gain thy worthless heart! + + Yes! He who thus demands thy stedfast love, + Is highly honour'd in the courts above; + He speaks, and sun, and moon, and stars, stand still, + And stormy winds and waves obey his will! + + His tender care hath been about thy bed, + When midnight thunders rolled above thy head! + When trembling thou beheld'st the lightning's glare + Light up thy room, and cause thee sudden fear! + + To all who need Him he is sure to prove + The best Physician too, when sick of love; + And yet all those who fall beneath his ire, + His anger doth consume and burn like fire! + + How long wilt thou withhold from Him his right, + Or from thyself such permanent delight, + As He hath promis'd in His faithful word, + Such as the hills of Paradise afford? + + When will thine eyes with happy tears o'erflow? + And thy fair breast with holy ardour glow? + When will thy lips thy dearest friend surprise, + By speaking out the language of the skies? + + Who thus surrender Him their heart and mind, + Through life's vicissitudes are sure to find + "Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end," + A faithful Lover, and a constant Friend! + + Where will those flee, or what may they expect, + Who his repeated overtures reject, + Who put in other gods their daily trust, + When He shall dash their refuge into dust? + + I long to see that lovely face of thine, + Beam forth with holy confidence divine; + And, fully freed from sin's enthralling chain, + No longer seek for happiness in vain! + + If then thy love be wandering elsewhere, + Thy choice decide, while He doth with thee bear; + Lest thou lament thy loss with anguish keen, + When Death hath fix'd a mighty gulf between! + + + + +TRUTH TRIUMPHANT! + + + See yon flag of crimson dye, + Wave along the vaulted sky! + See yon flag, &c. + To its hem fair Truth is bound, + Blood of martyrs sprinkled round; + That earth's multitudes may see, + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Wicked men in vain oppose, + Babes shall sing of Sharon's Rose! + Wicked men, &c. + Borne on winds from pole to pole, + Like the prophet's flying roll; + Ethiopia soon shall see + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Some of earth's dark corners shine, + With this heav'nly light divine! + Some of earth's, &c. + Africa's dark sons obey, + Pagan temples own her sway;-- + Own with us, 'tis God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Turks! who will no mercy shew, + Mercy is proclaim'd for you! + Turks! who will, &c. + Men are ceasing to bow down, + To their gods of wood and stone; + And all nations soon shall see, + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Where Truth reigns the work goes on, + Christ and Truth are both but one! + Where Truth, &c. + Saints shall find the promise true, + Christ will soon "make all things new;" + And rejoice at God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Pow'rs of darkness! do your best, + Put your prowess to the test! + Pow'rs of darkness! &c. + Persecution fierce employ, + Jesu's kingdom to destroy, + 'Tis in vain! 'tis God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Jews! the Crucified adore, + Objects of his wrath no more! + Jews! the Crucified, &c. + Own the Galilean King, + With your gentile brethren sing; + Now obey, 'tis God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Hasten, Lord, the glorious day, + Let all true believers say! + Hasten, Lord, &c. + When these frozen hearts shall flow, + Each with love and wonder glow; + All with one accord agree, + Truth hath gain'd the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Soon th' Archangel's trump shall sound, + Wake the dead from sleep profound! + Soon the, &c. + Earth shall melt, the stars shall fall, + Men on rocks and mountains call; + Christ will then his saints set free:-- + What a glorious Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON A BACKSLIDER. + + + How art thou fallen, thou son of the light! + How happy the scenes from which thou art driven! + Behold! if thy soul can dwell on the sight, + Where thou didst once walk and hold converse with heaven! + + Then down turn thine eye to yon dreary place, + To which with swift steps thy spirit is bound; + See the hideous forms which thy spirit shall chase, + Ere long in that fire which thee will surround! + + In anguish there thy frighted eyes shall roll, + While demons triumph at thy overthrow; + With flaming firebrands lash thy naked soul, + With burning arrows pierce thee through and through! + + Thy dying soul still fed with living pain, + Shall curse the day on which she first drew breath; + Her awful burden she must still sustain, + And weep, and wail, and long in vain for death! + + Midst hell's deep gloom her portion she must drink, + Of double vengeance from Jehovah's ire, + And in the burning lake for ever sink,-- + That dreadful region of tormenting fire! + + Alas! the dreadful stupor still remains, + Nor hell can fright, nor heav'nly joys allure; + In vain thy self-convicted soul complains, + Of constant torment, and of thoughts impure! + + In vain the heav'nly harpers tune the lyre, + Rejoicing saints perform the three-fold part; + In vain believers flash devotion's fire, + Or drag the holy harrows o'er thy heart! + + That heart enclos'd as in a case of steel, + Laments its loss, and seeks for rest in vain! + Sighs for that impulse which she once did feel,-- + Oh! shall she never taste those joys again. + + I know the Lord is mighty to redeem, + Of boundless mercy, and unmeasur'd grace, + But sin hath fix'd a mighty gulf between,-- + Beyond that gulf a Saviour shows his face. + + Sometimes thou may'st the keen conviction spurn, + Through liquor's magic, or associates gay, + But this thy strongest refuge will o'erturn, + To think of Death, and the great judgement day. + + + + +VILLAGE PREACHING. + + "_Speak unto us smooth things._" (Isaiah xxx. 10.) + + + Far over Cleveland's lofty hills, + Water'd by rivulets and rills, + A lovely village doth appear, + And o'er the trees its chimneys rear + + A church there is without a steeple, + And several unconverted people; + Though not much pious fruit appear, + The people still desire to hear. + + To chapel oft they go and back, + In their old summer beaten track, + Where they the Holy Spirit grieve, + And pray for what they don't believe. + + Those preachers they like best to hear, + Whose doctrine is not too severe; + Who make no push extraordinary, + But tell their tale and let them be. + + It happen'd on a certain day, + A stranger chanced to stroll that way;-- + I'll try to sketch him if I can, + Some call him an eccentric man. + + One whom God's Spirit had enlighten'd, + Whom his own sins had soundly frightened; + Who when by strong conviction pained, + Did pardon seek, which he obtained. + + He knew he then accepted stood, + By faith in the atoning blood; + But saw the people's sad condition, + And offer'd them his admonition. + + A door was open in that place, + Where long had been the means of grace; + The means by many long neglected, + For fear they there should be detected. + + A worthy woman there did live, + Who her advice did gratis give; + Who cared for both the flock and fold, + Like Deborah in days of old. + + Like her she long had wish'd to see, + A glorious gospel victory; + And gave a friendly invitation, + To hear an extra exhortation. + + The forms were set, and rostrum fix'd, + The preacher went and took his text:-- + Sinners! your bleeding Saviour see, + He cries, "Ye will not come to me!" + + He tried to tell what those shall win, + Who come to Christ and leave their sin; + How those shall fare in the great day, + Who all their life time stay away. + + Having as he thought, clear'd his way, + They sang, and then began to pray; + He left his elevated station, + And went among his congregation, + + Of the great things he'd dwelt upon, + He ask'd them questions, one by one, + And if advice or help was needing, + For penitents who then were pleading. + + They still went on to sing and pray, + The good, old-fashioned gospel way; + And closer press'd the invitation, + Until 'twas time for separation. + + But such unusual proceeding, + They say completely spoil'd the meeting;-- + That preacher's conduct is unstable, + Who cannot keep behind the table! + + Preachers ought not to come so nigh, + Into the soul's affairs to pry; + For whether they be saved or no, + Is more than they've a right to know. + + Such bold presuming impudence, + To some might prove a great offence;-- + Going and asking one by one, + How they for Heaven are getting on! + + They say they'll come to preaching still, + If she one promise will fulfil; + That is as long as she is able, + Will keep the man behind the table. + + Those hearers now are far too thin, + Who like a lusty, loud "Amen!" + And folks have now a taste so fine, + A semiquaver breaks the line! + + Ye men of God, the truth enforce, + You cannot press the thing too close, + If you would do the people good, + Or clear your conscience of their blood. + + When your sermon is completed, + Then your aid is further needed; + To lift up still your warning voice, + Nor leave the people to their choice. + + Though some, alas, are so precise, + And God's rich blessings do despise, + Others may need your friendly care, + And will your counsel gladly hear. + + If your advice when managed well, + Perchance might save some soul from Hell; + Oh think of this,--and if you're able, + You may stand still behind the table. + + If I should go that way once more, + And find the people as before; + They must have either chain or cable, + If they keep _me_ behind the table. + + + + +THE LODGER IN LIVERPOOL; + +OR, + +THE MASON IN WINTER NIPT BY THE FROST. + + While a card party were enjoying themselves in an adjoining + room. + + + While sad I sit, oft musing over + Happy days for ever fled; + A lonely lodger in a corner, + Like some hermit in his shed. + + All around seems blithe and merry; + _My_ light's dim, and harp's unstrung, + While memory turns to yonder valley, + On whose flowery banks I've sung. + + Dirty, ragged, and down-hearted, + Far from country, friends, and home; + And as far from kindness parted, + Doom'd for work the world to roam. + + While the cheerful game hath flourish'd, + Gaily the glad table round; + From my eye the tear unnoticed, + Oft hath fallen to the ground. + + Now they sing of female beauty, + Or the treachery of men, + Or of robbers seeking booty, + Like the tiger from his den. + + Lovely forms and handsome faces, + Serve to gild the gay deceit; + Amorous ditties serve for graces, + Both before and after meat. + + 'Tis theirs to share life's fleeting joys, + Mine to drag the galling chain; + But still a hope my spirit buoys, + That the sun will shine again. + + If their pleasures were not carnal, + I might long with them to share; + Did they lead to joys eternal, + When they laugh, I might despair. + + But when time makes all surrender, + Nor permits the least excuse, + Happy they, whom time's avenger, + Charges not with its abuse. + + + + +EDOM. + + (Isaiah lxiii. 1.) + + + O ye muses, assist me to sing, + Of the things which by faith I have seen; + Of the love of my Saviour and King, + While wandering on earth I have been. + + That Him I so little have loved, + For this I have reason to mourn; + And for talents and time mis-improved, + In the days of my youth that are gone. + + For neglect of the records divine, + Which so often did sound in mine ear; + My affections they did not incline, + I neglected like others to hear. + + Like sheep did we all go astray, + And left the fair pastures serene; + Did wander from him far away, + Where terror and darkness were seen. + + There in ambush our enemies lay, + As we roam'd o'er those desolate plains; + We became their unfortunate prey, + And were bound in affliction and chains. + + We long in that sad plight did lie, + Nor had courage nor strength to look up; + Yet we oft cast a languishing eye, + To the hills from whence cometh our hope. + + And there came one from Edom afar, + To whom the sad signal we gave; + He looked like a champion of war, + He was bloody--yet mighty to save! + + And as swift to our rescue He came, + We related to Him all our grief, + He said that heaven heard us complain, + And 'twas He that had brought us relief. + + "Who art thou?" then we fearfully said, + "Why so red in thy glorious array? + Like one who is sorely dismayed, + Through the burden and heat of the day?" + + "I have come from the Father of lights, + That you in His glory may shine; + Whose throne is on high o'er all heights, + And the work of redemption is mine. + + In His courts the great question was ask'd, + Who would rescue lost man from the grave? + I, my love and omnipotence task'd, + That the ruined and lost I might save! + + Then stern Justice demanded his due, + And I looked for help but found none; + So my life I have laid down for you, + And have trodden the wine press alone. + + "Look on me," He said with a smile, + "'Twas for you I was bruised as ye see; + There was none for this wonderful toil, + And the burden fell all upon me!" + + Then He lifted us up from the ground, + And He broke our tyrannical chain; + While His blood stream'd afresh from each wound, + And whoever it touch'd was made clean! + + "The ransom, though mighty, is paid, + Therefore open your hearts to receive; + You need be no longer afraid + If you truly repent and believe!" + + While sweet comfort thus flow'd from his tongue, + His visage though marr'd grew more fair; + With swift wings and angelical song, + He ascended on high in the air! + + A bright cloud took Him out of our sight, + And our eyes could behold him no more; + He arose to the regions of light, + And left us to believe and adore! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON ABSENT FRIENDS, GONE TO AMERICA. + + + The sun had gone down o'er yon lofty mountain, + The last golden streamer had left the tall tree; + The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy, + Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea. + + The rose tree was nodding the lasses had nourish'd, + Which oft had supplied them with Sunday's perfume; + The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish'd, + And wept o'er the beautiful daisy in bloom! + + In the track by the river the green grass is springing, + On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray; + No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing, + To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play. + + The dog in the night time now howls discontented, + Of its master and mistress but lately bereft; + I listen'd and look'd to the place they frequented, + Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left. + + How strong the emotions of friendship were glowing, + When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved; + Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing, + As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved. + + From the shores of old England we anxiously view'd them, + A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight; + Far o'er the blue surface affection pursued them, + Till the ship was conceal'd by the curtain of night. + + They have left us,--their absence wakes mournful reflection, + As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away; + We can only consign them to heavenly protection, + To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey. + + He who roves through the wood may quickly discover, + Their affection in tokens which there he will see; + Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover, + May sigh o'er their names in the bark of the tree. + + + + +THE LAST JOB OF AN OLD TRAMP; + +OR, + +REFLECTIONS ON BURNING A MASON'S MALLET + +FOR A YULE CLOG, ON CHRISTMAS EVE. + + + O thou once highly valued piece of wood, + By him who best that value understood; + Whose purse so often thou didst help to fill,-- + Whom bed and board, + Thou didst afford, + Attended by thy train of sharpen'd steel! + + True to thy task throughout the changing year, + Thy fellowship was to thy master dear:-- + Whether at work, or o'er his shoulder slung, + Or near his side, + Thou wast his pride, + While with his friend he cheerful sat and sung! + + Without a murmur at stern winter's frown, + Or summer's heat, in country or in town, + The stone hath yielded to thy sturdy blow:-- + Thy day is gone, + Thy task is done, + And thou art own'd by thy last master now! + + While careless I thy destiny survey, + And see thee down to ashes waste away; + Thy crackling whisper seems to shew to me, + The frailty clear, + Of all things here, + To earth allied, and man's mortality! + + Since first on thee the tender bud appear'd, + Or on thy branch the birds the woodlands cheer'd, + What strange vicissitudes have roll'd between; + Since thou wast nurs'd, + With care at first, + Or in the forest flourish'd gay and green! + + There was a time when high thy top did wave, + In mystic triumph o'er the woodman's grave, + Whose stroke had ceas'd, worn out by course of years; + Where undismay'd + The breezes play'd, + Whose peaceful shade remembrance only bears! + + Ah! thou wilt never, never bud again, + Thy ashes lost in field, or flood, or lane; + No more the sun will on thy substance shine: + It would, at last, I fear, + Be well with many here, + If life's last spark might be compared with thine! + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + + Aboon--_above_ + Ageean--_against_ + Ah--_I_ + Ah'v--_I have_ + Airm--_arm_ + Alang--_along_ + 'At's--_that is_ + Awd--_old_ + Awn--_own_ + Awlus--_always_ + Ax--_ask_ + + Baable--_bible_ + Bairn--_child_ + Beck--_a brook_ + Beean--_been_ + Beeans--_bones_ + Beean't--_be not_ + Beeath--_both_ + Beelds--_builds_ + Berreed--_buried_ + Besaads--_besides_ + Blaw--_blow_ + Bleead--_blood_ + Boo--_bow_ + Booast--_boast_ + Boorn--_born_ + Boon--_going_ + Bon--_burn_ + Bonny--_handsome_ + Bowght--_bought_ + Breeght--_bright_ + Brigg--_bridge_ + Broo--_brow_ + Bukes--_books_ + + Cawd--_cold_ + Caps--_puzzles_ + Cheeans--_chains_ + Childer--_children_ + Chimler--_chimney_ + Clim--_climb_ + Clivver--_clever_ + Com--_came_ + Congker'd--_conquered_ + Convarsion--_conversion_ + Cooat--_coat_ + Coorn--_corn_ + Coorse--_course_ + Cubburt--_cupboard_ + Cum--_come_ + + Daft--_weak in mind_ + Dee--_die_ + Deea--_do_ + Deeal--_dale_ + Deean--_done_ + Deed--_died_ + Deein--_dying_ + Desaun'd--_designed_ + Doon--_down_ + Doot--_doubt_ + Draave--_drive_ + Duffil--_kind of coarse cloth_ + + Ee--_eye_ + Een--_eyes_ + Efter--_after_ + Ey--_aye_ + + Faanly--_finely_ + Fain--_glad_ + Fand--_found_ + Fause--_false_ + Feeat--_foot_ + Feead--_fed_ + Feight--_fight_ + Finnd--_find_ + Flay'd--_afraid_ + Fleead--_flood_ + Fleer--_floor_ + Floor--_flower_ + Foark--_fork_ + Fooas--_foes_ + Fooaks--_folks_ + Fooam--_foam_ + Foond--_found_ + Forgeean--_forgiven_ + Fower--_four_ + Fra'--_from_ + Freeat--_fret_ + Frev--_from_ + Froon'd--_frowned_ + Fund--_found_ + + Gaain--_going_ + Gamlin--_gambling_ + Gang--_to go_ + Gangin--_going_ + Gat--_got_ + Geean--_gone_ + Geean'd--_gained_ + Geen--_given_ + Gie--_give_ + Ginnes--_guineas_ + Gitten--_got_ + Gooan--_gone_ + Graw--_grow_ + Greeatin--_groaning_ + Greeave--_grave_ + + Hawf--_half_ + Heeame--_home_ + Heearth--_earth_ + Heeigh--_high_ + Hennut--_have not_ + Hev--_have_ + Hez--_has_ + Hezzen't--_has not_ + Hods--_holds_ + Hoo--_how_ + Hoor--_hour_ + Hooivver--_however_ + Hoose--_house_ + Hoosin--_household_ + Hoss--_horse_ + + Iddicated--_educated_ + I' noo--_soon_ + I' t'--_in the_ + Iv--_in_ + Ivvery--_every_ + + Keease--_case_ + Ken--_to see_ + Kesenmas--_christmas_ + Kest--_cast_ + Kirk--_church_ + Knaw--_know_ + Ky--_cows_ + + Lahtle--_little_ + Lee--_a lie_ + Leeak--_look_ + Leeatly--_lately_ + Leeght--_light_ + Lie--_to lay_ + Lig--_to lie_ + Lood--_loud_ + Loore--_learning_ + Loss--_lose_ + + Mack--_make_ + Mah--_my_ + Mahle--_mile_ + Mare--_more_ + Maund--_mind_ + Mebby--_may be_ + Meead--_made_ + Meeasons--_masons_ + Meeght--_might_ + Meer--_a mare_ + Misteean--_mistaken_ + Mitch--_much_ + Mooan't--_must not_ + Mooat--_mote_ + Moont--_mount_ + Moorning--_mourning_ + Mud--_might_ + Mun--_must_ + + Natches--_notches_ + Neea--_no_ + Neean--_none_ + Neegh--_nigh_ + Neeght--_night_ + Neen--_nine_ + Nivver--_never_ + Nobbut--_only_ + Nooas--_noes_ + Nooatice--_notice_ + Nooation--_idea_ + Nowght--_nothing_ + Nowther--_neither_ + Nowthern--_northern_ + Nut--_not_ + + Ommost--_almost_ + Onny--_any_ + Oor--_our_ + O' t'--_of the_ + Ower--_over_ + Owerton--_overturn_ + Owght--_ought, or aught_ + Owther--_either_ + + Pearted--_parted_ + Pertend--_pretend_ + Pleeace--_place_ + Pleugh--_plough_ + Plissures--_pleasures_ + Poosts--_posts_ + Praaze--_praise, or prize_ + Preear--_prayer_ + Preeav--_prove_ + Prisance--_presence_ + Prooan--_prone_ + Prooase--_prose_ + Prood--_proud_ + + Raise--_rise_ + Rath--_wrath_ + Reeace--_race_ + Reeght--_right_ + Reen--_reign_ + Rint--_rent_ + Rowlin--_rolling_ + Rum--_room_ + + Saain'd--_signed_ + Sal--_shall_ + Sare--_sore_ + Sarten--_certain_ + Sawn--_sown_ + Screeve--_mark_ + Seea--_so_ + Seeaf--_safe_ + Seean--_soon_ + Seeaven--_seven_ + Seeght--_sight_ + Seer--_sure_ + Shanks--_legs_ + Shaw--_show_ + Sheeape--_shape_ + Shoat--_short_ + Shoo--_show_ + Shoothers--_shoulders_ + Sike--_such_ + Sin'--_since_ + Skoors--_scores_ + Snaw--_snow_ + Soorce--_source_ + Sowl--_soul_ + Spak--_spoke_ + Steead--_stood_ + Steeaks--_stakes_ + Steean--_stone_ + Strang--_strong_ + Strave--_strive_ + Stond--_stand_ + Stour--_drift_ + Sud--_should_ + Sum--_some_ + Sute--_suit_ + Swap--_exchange_ + + Taame--_time_ + Tack--_take_ + Teea an' fraw--_to and fro_ + Teeables--_tables_ + Teeak--_took_ + Teeal--_tale_ + Teean--_taken_ + Tegither--_together_ + Te t'--_to the_ + Thah--_thy_ + Thee--_thy_ + Theer--_there_ + Thenk--_thank_ + Ther--_their_ + Thof--_though_ + Thowght--_thought_ + Thraving--_thriving_ + Thruff--_through_ + Thunner--_thunder_ + Tiv--_to_ + Ton--_turn_ + Toons--_towns_ + Towght--_taught_ + Treead--_trade_ + Trimmel'd--_trembled_ + Trist--_trust_ + 'Twad--_it would_ + Twea--_two_ + + Ungker'd--_strange_ + + Voo--_vow_ + + Wad--_would_ + Waddn't--_would not_ + Wark--_work_ + Warst--_worst_ + Wean't--_will not_ + Weeap--_weep_ + Weel--_well_ + Wesh--_wash_ + Wha--_who_ + Whahl--_while_ + Wheas--_who is, or whose_ + Whooap--_hope_ + Whoor--_where_ + Winder--_window_ + Winnut--_will not_ + Wiv--_with_ + Woak--_walk_ + Woark--_work_ + Wods--_words_ + Wor--_were_ + Woth--_worth_ + Wrang--_wrong_ + Wur--_our_ + Wur--_was_ + + Yack--_oak_ + Yah--_one_ + Yan--_one_ + Yance--_once_ + Yer--_your_ + + + + +INDEX. + + + Page. + + Preface, 5 + + Awd Isaac, Part First, 9 + + ---- Part Second, 25 + + ---- His dying advice, 30 + + Dialogue on a Steeple Chase, 35 + + The Lucky Dream, 44 + + A strange effusion, 46 + + Lealholm Bridge, 48 + + Old Sam, or the effects of the Gospel, 51 + + Thoughts on Good Friday, 55 + + To a withered flower, 57 + + The country Love Feast, 59 + + Ode to Britain, 62 + + A voice from the dead, 63 + + To the Moor birds in a storm, 66 + + Lines on returning a borrowed Stick, 67 + + The thunder storm, 68 + + The Miser's away, 69 + + The Mistake, 71 + + The broken seal, 72 + + The Stone!, 75 + + To the rising Sun, 82 + + Lines in memory of the Rev. D. Duck, 84 + + An elegy on the death of a beloved child, 85 + + On the first text heard spiritually, 88 + + To a Squirrel in a cage, 90 + + To a bird singing in winter, 92 + + Petch's Elegy, 93 + + Reflections on Petch's tomb, 95 + + "Who hath believed our report?", 97 + + The Bees, 100 + + Caution from Limber Hill, 101 + + The village church in ruins, 103 + + Poetical reflections, 105 + + The two hours' task, 110 + + The country blunder, 113 + + A sinner saved by grace, 115 + + The portion of the Just, 117 + + The happy choice, 118 + + On the death of John Morley, 119 + + The servant's address to his master, 122 + + Sabbath morning musings, 125 + + Lines on leaving Fryup, 129 + + The Swallow, 131 + + A call to the careless, 132 + + To a horse, dying alone!, 134 + + Musings during affliction, 137 + + The Play, 144 + + The remote Christian, 146 + + Solitary reflections, 149 + + On some who had left us, 150 + + There is a God, 152 + + Confirmation, 153 + + The man of the world, 155 + + The rule of contrary, 157 + + On finding some Deistical books, in the + house of one who once feared God, 160 + + On visiting Fryup, 162 + + The Three Voices, 164 + + Dialogue between Rosedale Bob, and Hartoft John, 165 + + A love letter, 170 + + Truth triumphant, 173 + + Reflections on a Backslider, 176 + + Village preaching, 178 + + The lodger in Liverpool, 182 + + Edom, 184 + + Reflections on absent Friends, 187 + + Last Job of an old Tramp, 189 + + Glossary, 191 + + +_Whitby: Printed by Horne and Richardson._ + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + + Page 23: Unnecessary opening " as in original + Page 27: .! at end of verse as in original + Page 34: Closing " has no associated opening " in the original + Page 46: Opening " has no associated closing " in the original + Page 54: " added before We all must + Page 59: mispent as in the original + Page 70: expence as in the original + Page 148: bles'd as in the original + Page 174: Powr's corrected to Pow'rs (second instance) + Page 175: &c, corrected to &c. in the last verse + Page 186: Unnecessary opening " as in original + Page 190: flourish,d corrected to flourish'd + Page 195: sowl corrected to soul + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and +other Poems, by John Castillo + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 35287-8.txt or 35287-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/2/8/35287/ + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + +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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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: Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and other Poems + With a glossary of the Yorkshire Dialect + +Author: John Castillo + +Release Date: February 14, 2011 [EBook #35287] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bbox padbox"> +<p class="large center"><b>TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES</b></p> + +<p>Dialect has been retained. Printer's errors and corrections are +described at the end of the text.</p> + +<p>Note that there is an <a href="#INDEX">index</a> to the poems at the end of the text.</p> +</div> + +<h1>AWD ISAAC,<br /> +<br /> +THE STEEPLE CHASE,<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smaller"><span class="smaller">AND OTHER</span></span><br /> +<br /> +POEMS;</h1> + +<p class="center">WITH A GLOSSARY OF THE</p> + +<p class="center xlarge"><b>YORKSHIRE DIALECT:</b></p> + +<p class="center large gap2"><b>BY JOHN CASTILLO.</b></p> + +<p class="center gap2">WHITBY:<br /> +PUBLISHED BY HORNE & RICHARDSON.</p> + +<p class="center">1843. +</p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">PREFACE.</a></h2> + + +<p>The Author of the following Poems prefixes a “Preface” to them, lest he +should seem to be wanting in respect to his readers, did he not comply +with a custom which is universal. In doing so, however, he would eschew +two kinds of Preface, viz: that in which the author arrogates to himself +the merit of having produced a work entirely <i>new</i>, both in subject, and +in manner of expression, and on that score claims the plaudits of his +friends and the public;—and that in which the author professes to feel +himself inadequate to the task of composing a book, but at the pressing +solicitation of his friends, with great distrust of his abilities for +such a work, he yields to their entreaties, and pleads his inability in +mitigation of the critic’s wrath. With respect to the former, the writer +of the present volume professes not to offer to his readers any thing +<i>new</i>, either as to matter, or to language; and as to the latter, the +following pieces were most of them composed several years ago, at +distant intervals of time, and were frequently perused by his friends +long before he had thoughts of publishing them:—the character of his +poetry is therefore pretty well known to those who are likely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> to become +purchasers of his book; and it would be but a bungling apology did he +attempt to shelter its defects under the plea of inability for his task.</p> + +<p>It will be unnecessary to say much of the subjects sung of in the +following poems. Though they are various, the author hopes they will all +be found to contain a moral, which, if acted upon in common life, would +direct the conduct to a beneficial end. Many of them are founded on +facts which occurred in the writer’s neighbourhood, and which he has +endeavoured to turn to a useful purpose. Others are of an experimental +cast, and are the breathings of the poet’s heart when inflamed by Love +Divine! It has been his constant aim to exhibit the workings of grace in +the heart, its effects on the life, and the glorious futurity to which +it conducts its possessor. For this purpose, he has seized on a variety +of incidents known to many of his friends, which have furnished him with +matter on which to graft a spiritual thought. Life in its spring tide, +or when ebbing in death, home with its simple yet hallowed joys, a +religious assembly rapt in devotion and love, a landscape endeared by +the associations of youth or of kindred, a dilapidated church, a +withering flower, a text of scripture—have supplied him with topics;—and +he trusts that the doctrines which he has inculcated in connection with +them will always be found to agree with the Word of God.</p> + +<p>Of the “Dialect” in which some of the pieces are composed, the author +deems it necessary to say a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> few words. It is well known that every +county in England has its peculiarities of expression and pronunciation. +These peculiarities, though often unintelligible to persons brought up +at a distance, are yet the native language of the common inhabitants; +and there is, in their estimation, a point and power in them, which are +not to be found in more polished periods. The author has availed himself +of the dialect of his native county to convey to a particular class of +persons some important truths, which may, perhaps, be more welcomely +received because clad in that garb. There may, indeed, appear to +delicate ears, a rudeness approaching to barbarism, in the dialect which +he has employed; but what is wanting in polish, will, in the estimation +of those for whom he writes, be more than compensated by force and +vigour. Truth is truth—however humble the habiliments in which it is +dressed: nor does it come with less power to the heart because conveyed +in language with which those for whom it was intended are familiar. +Indeed, there is in that very <i>familiarity</i> something which arrests the +attention and affects the heart. Of the correctness of this view, the +author has many times seen proof, in the interest with which some of the +pieces in the dialect have been listened to, by persons whose education +being limited they could not perhaps have appreciated the beauties of +polished verse, but were at once arrested and delighted when the artless +tale was narrated in their mother tongue. To make this part of the work +as complete as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> possible, great care has been used to render the +orthography correct: published specimens of the Dialect have been +consulted, as well as living authorities, and no pains have been spared +that could contribute to make it complete both to the eye and to the +ear. A difference of orthography may occasionally appear, caused by the +necessity of making a rhyme;—excepting a few rare instances of this +kind, a standard has been adopted which has not been departed from. For +the assistance of those who are unacquainted with the dialect of the +North Riding of Yorkshire, a copious glossary is appended to the work, +by reference to which the meaning of any unknown term or phrase will at +once be seen.</p> + +<p>The author prays that the blessing of God may accompany his work!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="AWD_ISAAC" id="AWD_ISAAC"></a>AWD ISAAC.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smaller">(PART FIRST.)</span></h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yah neeght as Ah went heeame fra’ wark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lahtle bit afoore ’twur dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite blithe an’ cheerful as a lark,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah thowght me-sel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah sat me doon, te rist a bit,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">At top o’t’ hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fooaks just wur turnin oot ther ky;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lahtle plain awd man com by;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Cum set ye doon, gud frind,” sez I,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">“An’ rist yer legs;”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’d beean a bit o’ floor te buy,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ twea’r three eggs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah fand him varry fain te stop;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His staff he set up as a prop;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hooary heead he lifted up,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ thus compleean’d:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Sum fragments ov a gud like feeace,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ther still remeean’d.)<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Yoo see,” sez he, “mah deear young frind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mah travel’s ommost at an end;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ age mah back begins te bend,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ white’s mah hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ov this warld’s griefs, yoo may depend,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah’v hed mah share.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His teeal tho’ simple, it wur grand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ varry gud te understand,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His stick steead up aboon his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">T’awd fashion’d way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cooat an’ hat wur wether tann’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A duffil gray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Ah think,” sez Ah, “’at Scriptur sez,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gray hairs is honorable dress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they be fund i’reeghteousness,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By faith obtain’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ think, by what yer leeaks express,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That praaze yoo’ve gain’d.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi’ age it izzen’t gud te jooak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ts ommost ower warm te woak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit doon, an’ hev a bit o’ tawk,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O’ things ’at’s past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awd men like yoo, hez seeaf beeath heeard<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ seen a vast.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“A vast Ah hev beeath heeard an’ seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ felt misfotten’s arrows keen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As yoo remark, whahl Ah hev beean<br /></span> +<span class="i6">On this life’s stage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It’s sike a varry changin scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Fra’ yooth te age.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hoo great, an’ yet hoo feeble’s man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His life at langest’s bud a span;”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His history be thus began,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ teears te tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ if yer ears be owght like maane,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Twill pleease ye weel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Lang sin’ Ah lost mah wife,” sez he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Which wur a heavy cross te me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ then mah sun teeak off tot’ sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A fine young man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ Ah neea mare his feeace mun see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It’s ten te yan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah happen’d te be off yah day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kind ov sweetheart, as they say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Com in an’ teeak mah lass away,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ hoosin stuff;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ noo, poor thing, she’s deead, they say,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A lang way off.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It’s noo neen yeear, an’ gaain i’ten,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sin’ Ah at t’bark wood joined sum men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Twur theer Ah fell an’ leeam’d me-sen,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ spite o’ care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah wur foorc’d te gie up theer an’ then,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ woark ne mare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud t’neeaburs hez beean varry gud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else lang sin’ Ah’d stuck i’t’ mud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ seea throo them an’ t’help o’ God,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah gits mah breead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ whooap they’ll be rewarded for’t,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">When Ah’s law leead.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud seein all mah cumforts gooan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah didden’t knaw what way te ton,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Ah began te sigh an’ mooan,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beeath neeght an’ day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah bowght a Baable, an’ began<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te reead an’ pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An’ as Ah reead, an’ as Ah preea’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah thowght it thunner’d ower mah heead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ offens Ah’ wur sadly flay’d<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ dismal noises,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sumtaames i’ bed Ah thowght Ah heeard<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Some ungkerd voices.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A preeacher chanc’d te cum this way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah’v cause te ivver bless the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kind Providence leead me that way<br /></span> +<span class="i6">This man te heear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, like a sheep, had geean astray<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For monny a yeear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sed ’twur t’luv o’ Christ cumpell’d him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud seean as ivver Ah beeheld him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah thowght ’at sum kind frind hed tell’d him<br /></span> +<span class="i6">All mah heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ivv’ry word, like arrows pointed,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Meead it smart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah thowght, till then, ’at Ah wur reeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud he set mah sins all i’mah seeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last Ah fell doon at his feet<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ solid grief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah thowght Ah sud ha’ deead afoore<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah fund relief.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah reeally thowght, if yoo’ll beleeave me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At hell wur oppen te receeave me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sum sed the Lord wad seean releeave me,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He wur mah keeper;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud all they sed did nowght but greeave me,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ cut me deeper.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah dreeaded th’ Almighty’s froon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ wander’d greeatin up an’ doon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nowther i’t’ coontry nor i’t’ toon<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Neea rist Ah fand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mah sins, like stars, did me surroon’,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or heeaps o’ sand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then varry seean t’repoort wur rais’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ all roond t’village it wur blaz’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awd Isaac, he wur gangin craz’d<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ nowght seea seer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mah cottage then for days an’ days<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Neea sowl com near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At thowghts ov ivverlastin pains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ bein bund iv endless chains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mah bleead, like ice, ran thruff mah veins<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ shivrin dreead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah cudden’t sleep, an’ Ah forgat<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te eat mah breead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At last this gud man com ageean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which mah heart wur glad an’ fain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just like a thorsty land for rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah sat quite neear him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whahl ivv’ry organ ov mah sowl,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wur bent te heear him.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud seean as Ah his sarmon heeard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A still small voice mah sperits cheear’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ Ah, that varry neeght wur meeade,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A happy man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te praaze the Lord wi’ all mah heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah then began.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah knew He hed mah sins forgeean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whahl Ah hed in His prisance beean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ that His bleead cud wesh me cleean,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ white as snaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ mack me fit wi’ Him te reen<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Whahl heer belaw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sin’ then, i’ all mah conflicts heer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah flees te Him wi’ faith an’ preear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ He, in marsey, lends an eear.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thruff his deear Son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ this is t’way, wi’ whooap an’ feear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah travels on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft, when Ah thus draws neear te Him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He macks mah een wi’ teears te swim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fills mah heart quite up te t’ brim<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ t’luv o’ God;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ when Ah gets mare faith i’ Him,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah hods mah hod.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sumtaames Ah’v hed yon beck te swim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ monny a time this hill te clim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ heavy heart an’ weeary lim’<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ sweeaty broo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud all ’at ah can trist Him in,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He helps me throo.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In all the straits ov life, sez he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hooivver bare mah cubburt be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ broon breead crust, an’ woormwood tea,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or even gall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereivver Ah finnds Christ te be,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He sweet’ns all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mah neeaburs all, Ah deearly luv ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ oft Ah’s foorc’d for t’repruv ’em<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te seek the Lord Ah tries te muv ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ heart sincere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud t’answers oft ’at Ah gets frev em,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’S quite severe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah’v oft felt sorry te me-sel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beeath greeav’d an’ sham’d the truth te tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Ah hev heeard oor awd kirk bell<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ring in te preear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah’s flay’d ’at sum ’ll hear’t i’ hell<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Upbreead ’em theer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They’ll sit or lig upon ther deead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ tawk aboot all kinds o’ treead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ laff, an’ lee, quite undismay’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till they’ve rung in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sike fooaks te t’ warld thay’re owther wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or neear akin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sum sez ther priest’s a stumlin block,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He nivver leeads ’em on te t’ rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like thooase ’at mends a threead-bare frock<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ a new piece,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cares bud lahtle for his flock,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">If he gets t’fleece.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud oors, he is a Christian breeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He preeaches Christ wiv all his meeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fills each beleeaver wiv deleeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’At gangs te heear him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ therefoore ov his people’s bleead<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The truth ’ll clear him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah’v heeard him tell ’em pat an’ plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At they mun all be boorn again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or suffer ivverlastin pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ t’warld te cum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud if they’ll flee te Christ i’ time,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For all ther’s rum.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I’th’ pulpit or i’ conversation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’s awlus on for t’sowl’s salvation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ kind reproof or exhoortation.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or coonsel sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ thooase ’at follows his persuasion,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They’ll be reeght.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther’s sum ’at sez, bud they’re misteean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they’re babtized they’re boorne ageean;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just heer they miss t’ fundation steean,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ beelds o’t’ sand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ they’ve neea dreead, till t’hoose is doon<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bud it ’ll stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah’s flay’d,” sez he, “ift’ truth wur knawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther’s monny a precious soul o’erthrawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that gud seed ’at he hez sawn<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’oot effect;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud bleeam for ivver is ther awn,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thruff sad neglect.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah’v seen yoong men, an’ women too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ men wi’ hair all off ther broo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afoore he’s reead his lesson throo,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’S beean fast asleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whahl others ’at far better knew<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'S beean seen te weep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They’ll rock an’ riggle like a ship,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till sum kind frind gies them a nip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wakken’d up wi’ t’saxton’s whip,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or others’ coughing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, mebby, when they’ve rubb’d their een,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They’ll start a laffin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sum’s liv’d te three or fower skoor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ lang time heer’s had rulin pow’r,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ve woorn deep tracks across ’at moor,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ constant gangin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud still, all t’whahl, for this warld’s loore,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ther heearts wur langin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thersels they’ve nivver fairly seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ve nivver knawn ther sins forgeean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho’ monny a time ther prayers hev beean<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As lood as t’clark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thof they’ve hed twea pair of een,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They’ve deed i’t’ dark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther’s sum ’at neeame o’ Christian beears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’s hed that neeame for monny yeears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At’s berreed ow’r t’heead an’ t’eears,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ warldly care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ oft at kirk, we’ve cause te feear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They market theer.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah wur at a sarten hoose yah day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ t’awd man tiv his son did say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If all be weel, thoo mun away,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te moorn te t’ kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ try te git oor wreeghts next week,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te cum te woark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An’ Tommy, he’s i’ sike a tackin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At cooat ’ll spoil for want o’ mackin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If t’ tailor’s theer, thoo mun be at him,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te cum an’ all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That’s weel contrav’d, an’ then yah thrang,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Ll deea for all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thoo needn’t stop te gang roond t’ farm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud mun be theer i’ reeght gud taame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mebby, if thoo dizzen’t maand,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thoo’ll loss thy chance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther’s sumtaames three or fower at him,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">All at yance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It’s ower far te gang a-feeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ if ’t be warm thoo’s seer te sweeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee Moother, she’ll deea nowght bud freeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seea tak awd Dragon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ tell him he mun cum next week.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ mend oor waggon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then if ye chance i’t’ coorse o’t’ weeak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’t’ Sunday’s subject for te speeak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You’ll finnd awd memory seea weeak,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">It’s all forgitten;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus wounded sowls ’at’s beean hawf heeal’d<br /></span> +<span class="i6">T’awd sarpent’s bitten.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That skull ’at’s moolded green an’ gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T’awd saxton dug up t’other day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knaws varry neear as mitch as thay<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O’t’ Sunday’s sarmon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yoo may as weel o’t’ subject tawk<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te sum awd Jarman.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That poor awd man’s noo deead an’ geean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tis hard te say what way he’s teean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At used te stand ageean t’funt steean,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te tack fooaks watches;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whahl careless lads i’t’ singin pew<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wur cuttin natches.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An’ seea for want o’ cultivation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shuffle on withoot salvation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vast, Ah’s flay’d, ’s o’ this perswasion,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beeath yoong an’ awd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te be forgeean they ha’ neea nooation,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till deead an’ cawd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud they’ll finnd oot afoore’t be lang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At they’ve all t’ taame beean sadly wrang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther wills may then be ower strang,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te breeak or bend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ noo they say they’re ower thrang,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They can’t attend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I’ summer taame they’ll leeave t’awd nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ driss up i’ ther varry best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ gallop off alang wi’ t’rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te t’ fair or reeaces;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vast gits what they nivver kest<br /></span> +<span class="i6">At sike like pleeaces.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther’s sum gets theer wi’ wooden legs on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ monny poor awd men wi’ wigs on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just sarvs t’yoong fooaks te run ther rigs on,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A fine example,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whahl doon i’t’ dust ther poor awd lims<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sumtaames they trample.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther’s sum can nowther sit nor lig,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aboot t’election they’re seea big,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They say they’re Britons, rump an’ rig,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bud whea can trist ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, frev a Toory tiv a Whig,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A glass ’ll twist ’em?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther’s others rayther shoat o’ seeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fort’ seeak o’ twea’r three sovrens breeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gies in ther vooat, an’ thinks it reeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te t’ Roman stranger;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then others pleeaster up i’t’ street,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">“<i>The Church in danger!</i>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An’ seea they yan prevent another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ drinking, politics, an’ bother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof t’ best ov all can’t seeave his bruther,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Nor ransom him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That spark ’at’s left they try te smuther,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ stratigem.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As for thooase Methodeys, they say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They mack seea varry mitch te deea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther’s sum wad deea nowght else bud pray<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ reead, an’ preeach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till they git all meead Methodeys,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Within ther reeach.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud ther wur neean o’ this amaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ neean ov oor foore elder’s days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof ther gud deeds an’ honest prayers,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ pious reeadins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hez beean, neea doot, as gud as theers,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wiv all ther meetins.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Te see ’em doon o’ beeath ther knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ kirk, or field, or under trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ brokken hearts an’ teearful ees,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wur quite uncommon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ if they hevn’t deed i’ t’ faith,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then what’s cum’d on ’em.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Te preeach ’em all geean doon te hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is a dreeadful teeal te tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ we mun wiv oor kindred dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seea we, like them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will on life’s ooacean tak oor chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ sink or swim.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They mack sike wark amang yoong fooaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They breeak up all oor jovial spooarts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They thin oor ranks, an’ storm oor pooarts<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ strange confusion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther’s nowght bud we mun cry’t all doon,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A mere delusion.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud us ’at seldum hev attended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They deeant git us seea eeasy mended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An awd stiff yack ’s nut eeasy bended,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That’s varry true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud thooase ’at winnut bend yoo see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mun breeak i’ noo.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They trifle on fra’ yeear te yeear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like watches woorn oot ov repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof if they wad, its varry cleear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They mud be mended;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud they perceeave neea danger neear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till life is ended.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Awd Satan seea pollutes the maund,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They winnut stooap te t’ means desaun’d.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till t’ hair spring gits wi’t mainspring twain’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An seea hard curl’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’re foorc’d away te git refined<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ t’other warld.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He leeads sum on like mountebanks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As straight as thof they ran on planks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ tells ’em, i’ ther jovial pranks,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He’ll nut deceeave ’em;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then oft on Jordan’s stormy banks,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ther cumforts leeave ’em.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He leeads sum on another way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ whispers tiv ’em neeght an’ day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At they need nowther reead nor pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They’ve deean nowght wrang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ if they hev, he’ll set it reeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Afoore ’t be lang,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther’s others oft beean in alarm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud Felix like, when t’heart wur warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hez sed, “Go, an’ sum other taame,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah’ll send for thee;”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they that taame, they didden’t knaw<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mud ivver see.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They rob thersels o’ ther awn reeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They reeally winnut cum te t’ leeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest o’ ther sins they git a seeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ sud be seeav’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ be ov all ther plissures sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">At yance bereeav’d.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till deep sunk doon i’ t’ burning leeake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They then begin te feear an’ queeake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where vengeance can neea pity teeake,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Which theer hez sent ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ furious feeinds i’ horrid sheeape,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mun theer torment ’em.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They leeak for sum yan te deliver,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud theer they’ll finnd neea cumfort nivver,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Theer they may weeap an’ wail for ivver,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ther harvest’s past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther summer’s ended, refuge fails ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ they’re lost.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ther dreeadful doom an’ destiny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us git all we can te flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By preeachin Christ where’er we be,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ deead an’ word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all oor frinds ther folly see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ ton te God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Ah beean i’ t’ way noo seeaven yeear,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ as he spak, a briny teear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ran doon his cheeks as crystal cleear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Fra’ owther ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Thenk God, Ah feeal whahl Ah sit heer,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Tis weel wi’ me.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud neeght is cummin on ameean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’t leeaks as if ’twur boon te reean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else mah stoory’s nut hawf deean,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’At Ah’v te tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud mebby we may meeat ageean,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till then, farewell!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tho’ he hed all thooase sorrows booarn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compozur in each feeature shooan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof he’d te woark and live alooan,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Fra’ day te day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah wish’d his keease hed been mah awn,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ com away.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4">AWD ISAAC.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smaller">(PART SECOND.)</span></h2> + +<p class="large center"><b>TO WHICH IS ADDED,<br /> +<br /> +HIS DYING ADVICE.</b></p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft hev Ah lang’d yon hill te clim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te hev a bit mare prooase wi’ him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wheas coonsel like a pleeasin dreeam,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Is deear te me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sin’ roond the warld sike men as he<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seea few ther be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Corrupted bukes he did detest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his wur ov the varry best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This meead him wiser than the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O’ t’ neeaburs roond,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho’ poor i’ t’ purse, wi’ senses blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ judgment soond.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Befoore the silvery neeght ov age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The precepts ov the sacred page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His meditation did engage,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That race te run;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like thooase, who ’spite o’ Satan’s rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The praaze hed won.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud noo his een’s geean dim i’ deeath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neea mare a pilgrim here on eearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sowl flits fra’ her shell beneeath,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te reealms o’ day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoor carpin care, an’ pain, an’ deeath,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Are deean away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi’oot the author’s neeame or leeave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’d put his stoory thruff the sieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ roond his circuit set the screeve<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O’ justice keen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fra’ crotchet cramp, or semibreeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te sift him cleean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The charge ’at they ageenst him bring,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He harps teea mitch upon yah string,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or triumphs like a lahtle king,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ow’r fashions gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’s ower religious!—That’s the thing<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They meean te say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still Awd Isaac tells his teeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ower monny a weeary hill an’ deeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ ’ll sumtaames into cities steeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Nor silent be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till infants try te lisp his theeame<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Across the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oor last, an’ lasting interview,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wonted theeame he did renew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fra’ which, a paraphrase he drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ thus began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ conversation clear, an’ frindship true,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Like man te man.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Ah lahtle thowght, as weel thoo knaws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoo te t’ public wad expooase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mah awd gray cooat, wi’ all its flaws,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ stick an’ all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For want o’ which, the aged prood<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seea offens fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah varry leeatly gat a hint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’d put oor stoory into prent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ copies roond the coontry sent<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beeath left and reeght;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud if ’twur deean wi’ gud intent,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Gud luck gang wi’ ’t.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Noo all Ah sed wur meeant for gud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it wur reeghtly understud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te sum neea doot, t’language wud<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seeam quite abrupt;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We’re all alike, ov flesh and bleead,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ hearts corrupt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fooaks oft leeaks mare at bleead an’ breedin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than at t’subject they are reeadin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ thus awd prejudice is feedin,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ system’s narrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For want o’ pains te crack the beean<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Th’oft miss t’marrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Men still i’ spite ov all oor caution,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Ll hanker efter heeigh promotion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Evan’s Pills, or Rowland’s Lotion<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Saain’d by t’King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We’re seea inclin’d te self-devotion—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That’s the thing.!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">T’ Naation still seeams discontent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther’s strange debeeates i’ parliament,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Petitions on petitions sent<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Theer, all implorin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ sum i’ dungeons deep lament<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Whahl they’re snoorin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still ower t’land t’clood hangs dull,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ we may thrust, an’ they may pull;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ “Eys an’ Nooas” the paper’s full,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ applause an’ laughter:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ all the gud for poor John Bull<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’S te cum hereafter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still let us calmly wait the end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On God, an’ nut on man, depend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oor Nation’s woond is bad te mend,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ommost incurable!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Israel he will still defend,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ kindness durable.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud numbers streeangely hev backslidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ deean thooase things ’at wur forbidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ caused His feeace for te be hidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By actions fowl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till scarce a ray ov whooap is left<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te cheer the sowl.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">T’coonsel Ah wad recommend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is all te strave ther lives te mend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ persevere unto the end<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ word an’ deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ thooase ’ll nivver want a Frind<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ t’ taame o’ need.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud Ah mun cut mah stoory shoort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or it may mack the critics spoort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oor subject’s ov too greeave a soort<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te dwell upon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afoore ye spreead yer next repoort,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah sal be geean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For sin’ we met an’ pearted last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah finnd mah strenth decreeasing fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like floor’s beneeath the Nowthern blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Yance fresh an’ gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seea man is doom’d te droop an’ waste,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ fade away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah wad befoore Ah tack mah leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te all, mah deein coonsel give,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ if i’ the truth they deea beleeave<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or apprehend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That truth, whahl Ah’v a day te live<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Ah will defend</i>.”<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="HIS_DYING_ADVICE" id="HIS_DYING_ADVICE"></a>HIS DYING ADVICE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Eden’s floory garden smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor Eve the Sarpent hed beguil’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man stood upreeght an’ undefiled<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ maand an’ feeature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ sweetest conversation held<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ his Creator.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud when that awful monster sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hed gain’d its ugly entrance in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warld, oor sorrows did begin;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then Heaven froond,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ t’ glitt’ring swoord o’ Justice gleeam’d<br /></span> +<span class="i6">On all aroond.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sin spreead destruction wide, an’ seean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim deeath began his feearful reign;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Satan wi’ lees an’ malice keen<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Went teea an’ fraw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frail, the noble sons o’ men<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te owerthraw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud the Almighty sent his aid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enoch an’ Abraham obey’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ Noah, Job, an’ Daniel pray’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ Gideon too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ mighty fooas throo mighty faith<br /></span> +<span class="i6">They did subdue.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then ancient Israel’s altar’s blazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ solemn congregations gazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ Holy men ther voices raaized,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ trumpets soonded.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then heathen armies stood amazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ wur confoonded.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Joshua congker’d i’ the vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ gud Elijah did prevail;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wicked worshippers o’ Baal<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He owerthrew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ showed te them the living God<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ only true.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An’ while the sacrifice was pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Destruction com nut neegh ther door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ moont or tent they wur secure<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By neeght or day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whahl thraving groups o’ flocks an’ herds,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Aroond ’em lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They towght an’ showed ther childer hoo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther Fathers kept ther solemn voo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the Almighty leead ’em throo<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The desert land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ hoo thooase fell ’at wad nut boo<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te His command.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An’ seea sud we oor childer teeach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ i’ ther ears gud doctrine preeach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Befoore corrupt ideas reeach<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The tender maand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ when they up te manhood graw,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The gud they’ll finnd.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ey, tell ’em whea the sarpent stung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoo Moses an’ hoo Deborah sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ hoo the Holy Hebrews yoong<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Did walk throo fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ try te tune ther infant tongues<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te David’s lyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Remind ’em ov a Saviour’s love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leearn ’em the way God will approve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te pray, an’ fix ther thowghts above<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Eearth’s fleeting joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which at ther best, when tried ’ll proov,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bud empty toys.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Consult the worthies ov’ each age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wheas lives are doon i’t’ sacred page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor rest till all the heart engage<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Like them i’ feight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then we like them oor hostile fooas,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sal put te flight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Te us they as examples stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As guide-poosts in a weeary land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or like seea monny beeacons grand,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">On mountains heeigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te shoo the way Jehovah’s plann’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or deeanger neeigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud men graw noo seea warldly wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seea prooan te vanity an’ lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T’best o’ coonsel they’ll despise,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seea queer they live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ll scarce a proper question ax,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or answer give.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mankind i’ gen’ral can espy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mooat ’at’s in anoother’s eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ big an’ busy as Paul Pry,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Ll mark it doon;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It helps fra’ silly passers by<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te hide ther awn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Theer’s numbers seeams o’ t’ better soort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aroond oor chapels still resoort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ o’ convarsion mack a spoort,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An’ sins forgeean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ at the truly pious shoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ther arrows keen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bud the Almighty sees ther ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ thof he lenthens oot ther days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ his just rath he noo delays,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Tis seer te cum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stootest o’ the human race,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mun meet ther doom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ey, when ther jolly days are spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they i’ taame deea nut repent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ll seerly doon te hell be sent<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Te revell theer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te curse, an’ fooam, an’ pay ther rint<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ black despair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Freeat nut thysel when thoo doast see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wicked i’ prosperity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te floorish like a green bay tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Or cedar tall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He like a leeaf, by firm decree,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mun feeade an’ fall!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Consider thoo what hez beean sed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ o’ ther threeats be nut afraaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware lest thoo sud be betray’d<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By ther deceit;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ t’Lord gie thee, an’ nut upbreead,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">His Sperit’s leeght!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The coontry’s all anxiety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te knaw Awd Isaac’s pedigree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ sum cry oot ’tis all a lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A meead up thing;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te sike we think it nut woth whahl,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Oor proofs te bring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For all that wish te knaw—may read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sum an’ substance ov his creed;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May catch, an’ saw the lahtle seed<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi’ greeat success.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud whoor he liv’d, or whoor he deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Tis left te guess.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="DIALOGUE_ON_A_STEEPLE_CHASE" id="DIALOGUE_ON_A_STEEPLE_CHASE"></a>DIALOGUE ON A STEEPLE CHASE</h2> + +<p class="large center"><b>AT P******NG, IN YORKSHIRE.</b></p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—Weel Jim, hoo deea lad? What’s t’ news?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which side is thoo on? Pinks or Blues?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heer’s sike a mighty stir i’ t’ nation,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Tis woth a lahtle conversation.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah want te knaw, is’t reeght or wrang;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unless thah nerves is varry strang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah hev a paper i’ mah pocket,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Ll lift thah heart oot ov its socket!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—A paper Joe! What is ’t aboot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sum munney matter, ther’s neea doot!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sum Methodey or Ranter bother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or sum Tee-total thing or other.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yan scarce can pass alang a street,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud sum sike like yan’s seer te meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whea’d ommost sweear ’at black is white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te gain anoother proselyte,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—A munney matter ’tis o’ coorse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ quite an opposition soorce,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For by the Liverpool Recorder,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Tis mare o’ the Succession order:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For it is sed by snug repoort,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Religious fooaks hev geen ’t support.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That which we noo te nooatice bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ist’ Steeple Chase at P******ng.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Whah Joe, thoo’s neean o’ t’ warst o’ fellows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cum sit thee doon a piece an’ tell us,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If thoo sud think it neea disgrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aboot this mighty Steeple Chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ov hoo, an’ when, an’ whoor they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For honour, munney, or for fun.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoo’s just geen me an itchin eear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aboot the thing Ah wish’d te heear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—Thoo sees upon a sarten day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah hennut seen, but heeard ’em say;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Greeat gentlemen hev hosses treean’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ lofty pedigree obteean’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seea full o’ bleead, an’ queerly towght,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te gallop thruff or ower owght:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All muster at a sarten pleeace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ this they call the Steeple Chase.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A purse o’ Gold they then present,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ word is thruff the coontry sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For fower mahle, Ah think they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ he ’at beeats,—the steeaks his awn.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sum breeaks ther necks, wi’ missin bridges,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ sum gits stuck, wi’ jumpin hedges.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ey, te confarm t’ truth Ah sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They kill’d a hoss at P******ng.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Wha Joe, thoo quite supprises me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te think ’at men ov heeigh degree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sud reeally hev neea mare respect<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For owther men’s or hosses necks.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—A boss is nowght i’ sike a keease!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bairn! sowls is nowght at t’ Steeple Chase!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They for a trifle swap an’ sell ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ t’ parsons hezzen’t sense te tell ’em.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +<span class="i2">T’ Steeple Chase is suted quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te glut t’ carnal appetite.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thooase whea ther Baable love, an’ preear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Ll finnd bud bareish picking theer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Maund Joe, thoo izzen’t ower severe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ ’at thah coonsel be sincere.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Law hez monny curious links,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Man mooan’t speeak awlus as he thinks.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thof Ah me-sel feel shock’d te think,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men sud seea rush on ruin’s brink:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mitch mare te be encouraged in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What mun be a presumptuous sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—The mare Ah see this standard reeas’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The mare an’ mare Ah stand ameeaz’d<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te think ’at parsons cannut see’t,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ tell ’em pleean it izzen’t reeght!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’At men sike tidings sud procleeam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ thooase ’at beear t’Christian neeame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I’ spite ov all divine advice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te sanction sike a sweepin vice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Whativver be t’satisfaction,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It hez a woonderful attraction;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ macks ’em freely use ther shanks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Specially them o’ t’ heeigher ranks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ Scarbro’, Malton, York, an’ Leeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They cum on lofty mounted steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ower dazzlin ommost te behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ silver’d whips, an’ cheeans o’ gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Theer’s bands o’ music, colours flying,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hams, an’ legs o’ mutton frying,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nimble waiters on the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te see ’em drink, an’ hear ’em sing,<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Ther’s gamlin teeables, orange stalls,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ther’s spices, nuts, an’ dancin dolls.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All things te sute the carnal taste,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May just be foond at t’ Steeple Chase.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—Thooase men hes gitten ’t i’ ther power<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Regardless o’ the sufferin poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te gallop ower hedge an’ dyke,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ deea an’ say, just what they like.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ all the while they run these rigs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ sing, an’ drink, an’ dance ther jigs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ll booast o’ noble ancestry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ mighty steeple pedigree!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If onny wish the cause te knaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whah they are able te deea seea,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“’Tis munney macks the meer te gang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Macks wrang seeam reeght, an’ reeght seeam wrang.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—The thing sud be te them meead knawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ther gold an’ silver’s nut ther awn.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ther cattle they abuse an’ kill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Belangs to t’Lord o’ Zion’s hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They sud be warn’d i’ ivvery pleeace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te gie up sike like wicked ways.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or seer as theer’s a God aboon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ll pull ther awn destruction doon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—They hev been warn’d an’ hev refus’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whahl thooase gud things they hev abus’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By which abuse they breeak God’s Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ that he’ll sum day let ’em knaw.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This maks ’em breeathe pernicious breeath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ swagger on the verge o’ deeath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whahl oothers—rayther than control,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Ll breeak ther necks, an’ loss ther sowl.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—A man tell’d me by way o’ jooak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud kind o’ trimmel’d as he spooak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’d Doctors pleeaced wi’in a shoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te slip necks in, ’at gat slipt oot.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—It’s awful booastin this indeed,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bad sample o’ beeath fruit an’ seed.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sike may upbraad the warld wi’ sizm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is next deer te Socialism.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sike booastin they will sum day rue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If we admit the Baable true.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All thooase mun pass a mighty change,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afoore the happy hills they range!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud tiv oor teeal let us ton back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lest we get farther fra’ oor track.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The day arrives, the smiling sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Procleeams the Steeple Chase begun.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On eeager eears the tumult steeals,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ov prancin steeds, an’ rumblin wheels.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It wur a day ov winks an’ nods,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ov lofty deeds, an’ lofty wods.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thof they hed for ther defence!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thunner ov Omnipotence!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">T’ fooaks com rowlin in by skoors,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ neeab’rin toons, an’ off o’ t’ moors.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like cloods ov locusts in they hale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ Goadland, Sleights, an’ Harwood Dale.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Tis seerly sum enchanted string,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That does sike croods tegither bring.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like bees, they roond the steeple swarm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In it they likely see neea harm.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Neea harm! What harm, Joe, can there be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I’ seeing sike a rarity:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ov men an’ hosses heeighly fed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ priests an’ squires at ther head;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ov gentlemen, an’ ladies gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As bonny as the floors i’ May.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Theer riches, yooth, an’ beauty shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Array’d i’ silk, an’ superfine.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ farmers’ maidens, yoong an’ fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We wonder hoo they’ve taame te spare;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ lads ov manners rough an’ rude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All mixing i’ yah multitude.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ poor awd men, ’at scarce can blaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ beards an’ whiskers white as snaw;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sad sample ov oor fallen race,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All rollin up to t’ Steeple Chase.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ farmers’ sarvants leeave ther pleugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Callin ther maister black an’ blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whea for ther credit an’ ther neeame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hed coonsel’d them te stay at heeame.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah met ’em as Ah com alang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(They wonder’d whah Ah waddn’t gang,)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ roosy cheeks, an’ shoothers brooad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bettin weagers up o’ t’ rooad.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ther leeaks an’ words at yance declare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ther treasure an’ ther hearts are theer.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If yah contrary sentence drop,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That mooth they quickly try te stop.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When roond the splendid stand they meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Twad deea a blinnd man gud te see’t;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Besaads the men’s seea faanly drist!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Steeple Chase,—whah whea wad miss’t?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—Fra’ furst te last it is desaun’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te pleease an’ fascinate the maand;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Te lift it, as on eagle’s wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ draave off thowghts o’ better things.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The stewards full o’ wardly wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pronoonce ’at all things noo are fit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When thoosands then roll up te see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As drawn by Steeple witchery.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ whence they cum, or whoor they dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If yoo’ve a paper it ’ll tell.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye ken the horses whea’s they are,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By t’ colours ’at ther riders wear.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus whether i’ the rooad or noa,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ whip an’ spur away they goa;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ower hedge an’ dyke,—there’s nowght can stop ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unless an angry God unprop em.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus riding ower grass, or coorn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Ats growin,—or ’ats leeatly sown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There’s neean dare lift a hand, or say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What hev ye deean, or whea’s te pay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whahl oaths profane, an’ lafter lood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are utter’d by the gaping crood;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By some whea yance religion luv’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not only sanction’d, bud appruv’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If ivv’ry ward an’ secret thowght,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mun be yan day te judgment browght,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh, how unlike sike wark as this,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is that which leads te glorious bliss!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te see ’em thus seea blithe an’ merry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wur famous pastaame for Awd Harry.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If owght te him cud be delighting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Twad be to see ’em drunk an’ feighting.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He popt aboot amang t’ people,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At last he popt up on to’t steeple,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Open’d a pair ov dismal jaws,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flapt his black wings, an’ yawn’d applause:<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Like sum prood Emperor ov awd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the wether cock he rode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Whoor he mud all at yance survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The grand proceedings ov the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A flagstaff for a whip he seized,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ spurr’d the spire he wur seea pleeased,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te think it sud his cause defend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ that his bait hed answer’d t’end.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Tis not for thee te criticise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On men seea greeat, seea rich, seea wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They aim, neea doot, as weel as thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te gang te heeaven when they dee.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What thof ther munney be bud lent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoo knaws ’at munney mun be spent.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Besaads they hev example too,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If t’ <i>parson’s</i> theer—What’s that te thoo?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—If thooase sud miss ther passage heeame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A careless priesthood they may bleeame.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blinnd guides they are, an’ t’Kirk’s ther moother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ they wean’t gang te hear neea other.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We Christians run a diff’rent race,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te what we call the Steeple Chase.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Besaads we finnd i’ Holy writ,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ther’s neean cums theer ’at are nut fit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Thoo meeans te proove by argument,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thooase ’at cums theer mun first repent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ be throo Jesus Christ forgiven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Afoore they’re i’ the rooad te heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Neea carnal plissure they mun share,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud live a life ov faith an’ prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If thooase alone hev saving grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doon gangs at yance the Steeple Chase.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—Seea legions fell fra’ leeght te dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seea Dagon fell afoore the ark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seea God prood Pharaoh owerthrew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ Sisera, an’ Goliath too.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seea fell the lords i’ sad supprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wheas hands hed put out Samson’s eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thooase mighty men wur turn’d te dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ seean the Steeple Chasers must.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Jim.</i>—Whah, Joe, it caps me fair te ken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hoo thooase heeigh flying gentlemen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can fra’ ther chasing gang te t’ kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ join i’t’ blessed Sunday’s wooark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Singing wi’ all ther might an’ main,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This heaven inspir’d, this holy strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Let all thy converse be sincere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Thy conscience as the noon-day clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“For God’s all seeing eye surveys<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Thy secret thoughts, thy works and ways;”—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ then fra’ t’ kirk te t’ Steeple Chase,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ set at nowght God’s luv an’ grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Call t’dissenters, an’ shoot thruff t’nation,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For “<i>Apostolical succession</i>!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Joe.</i>—Te bring oor converse te a close,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oor only aim is te expose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thing Almighty God doth hate,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nut te provoke unkind debate.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The day’s nut far ’at will reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The truth, an’ fix the final seal.<br /></span> +<table class="simpletable" summary="combining triplet"> +<tr> +<td><span class="i2">Sum may when its teea late te rue,</span></td> +<td rowspan="3" class="large300">}</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="i2">Finnd what they hoped wur false—is <i>true</i></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="i2">Consarning everlasting woe!</span></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnotes"><p class="large center"><b>FOOTNOTES:</b></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> It was a saying of one of the Riders, that he carried two +or three loose necks in his pocket, in case anything happened to his +own.</p></div> +</div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></p> + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_LUCKY_DREEAM_OR_AN_AWD_THING_RENEWED" id="THE_LUCKY_DREEAM_OR_AN_AWD_THING_RENEWED"></a>THE LUCKY DREEAM, OR AN AWD THING RENEWED.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yah Kesenmas neeght, or then aboot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When meeasons all wur frozen oot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah went te see a coontry frind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An hospitable hoor te spend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For gains Ah cut across at moor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoor t’snaw seea furiously did stour:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hoose Ah geean’d, an’ enter’d in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ wor as welcome as a king.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stoorm ageean t’winder patter’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ hailsteeans doon t’chimler clatter’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hands wur in, an’ seeam’d content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ neean did frost or snaw lament.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T’lasses all wur at ther sowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther cheeks wi’ health an’ beauty glowing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aroond the heearth in cheerful chat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twea’r three frindly neeaburs sat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther travels telling,—whoor they’d been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ what they hed beeath heeard an’ seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till yan us all did mitch amuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ thus a stoory introduce.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Ah recollect lang sin,” sez he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“A stoory that wur tell’d te me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At seeams seea straange i’ this oor day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That true or false Ah cannut say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man liv’d in this neybourheead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neea doot ov reputation gud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ lang taame strave w’ stiddy care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te keep his hooshod i’ repair.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +<span class="i0">At length he hed a curious dreeam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For three neeghts runnin ’twur the seeam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’At if on Lunnon Brigg he stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’d heear sum news wad deea him gud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He labour’d hard, beeath neeght an’ day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tryin te draave thooase thowghts away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet daily grew mare discontent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he at last te Lunnon went!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being quite a stranger te that toon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lang taame he wander’d up an’ doon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till led by sum mysterious hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Lunnon Brigg he teeak his stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ theer he waited day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ just wur boon te cum away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seea mitch he thowght he wur te bleeam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te gang seea far aboot a dreeam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thus a man, as he drew neear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did say, “Good friend, what seek you here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I have seen you soon and late?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His dreeam te him he did relate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Dreams,” sez the man, “are empty things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mere thoughts that flit on silver’d wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unheeded we should let them pass:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ve had a dream, and thus it was,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That somewhere round this peopled ball,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There’s such a place as Lealholm Hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet whether such a place there be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or not, is all unknown to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There in a cellar, dark and deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where slimy creatures nightly creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And human footsteps never tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a store of treasure hid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it be so, I have no doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some lucky wight will find it out:<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Yet so or not, is nought to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I shall ne’er go there to see!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man did slyly twice or thrice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cockney thenk for his advice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then heeame ageean wi’oot delay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cheerfully did tak his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ set aboot the wark, an’ sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fund ivv’ry thing, as t’ man hed sed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wur ivver efter seen te floorish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T’finest gentleman i’ all the parish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fooaks wonder’d sare, an’ weel they meeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoor he gat all his ginnes breeght!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it wur true, in spite ov feeame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te him it wor a lucky dreeam.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="A_STRANGE_EFFUSION" id="A_STRANGE_EFFUSION"></a>A STRANGE EFFUSION,</h2> + +<p class="center large"><b>OR</b></p> + +<p class="center large"><b>WESLEYANISM AT EASBY,</b></p> + +<p class="center large"><b>IN THE STOKESLEY CIRCUIT:</b></p> + +<p class="smaller center"><i>Written when the Methodists were deprived of the place of +worship in which they had been accustomed to meet.</i></p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They’re wakken’d at Easby, the Lord is amang ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof turn’d oot o’ t’ temple ’at used te belang ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anoother we whooap afoore lang ’ll be beelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoor sinners thruff Christ may hev pardon for guilt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T’ Lord seems te oppen a way out afoore ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof neybourin lions hev aim’d te devoor ’em.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When t’awd maister mariner fail’d at the helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They thowght it wad all the consarn owerwhelm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ when they appear’d ov all succour bereft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They endeeavour’d te freeghten t’ few ’at wur left.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Bud the Lord wur detarmin’d te be ther protection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te send ’em suppoort, an’ gie ’em direction;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If nobbut, like monny, they wadden’t betray him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud stick te that text, beeath te luv an’ obey him.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They can’t be content wi’ ther steeple opinions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud they mun mack inrooads on others’ dominions;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof theers be in gen’ral the fat an’ the wealthy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For t’want of gud physic, they seldom are healthy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoo strange ’at they sud sike fair temples erect,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te murder the sowls in—they’re swoorn te protect!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud stranger they’ll finnd it o’ yon side the fleead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi’ ther hands an’ ther garments all stain’d i’ ther bleead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We needn’t te wonder they mack sike a fuss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther craft is i’ danger fra’ rebels like us:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For God can mack preeachers—hoo feearful the thowght—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fra’ cobblers, or meeasons, or blacksmiths, or owght!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O yes! Dr. Pusey may whet his awd grinders,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ put on his captives ther fetters an’ blinders;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ther’s poor men iv Easby ’at ken his awd sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An’ see the defect ov beeath him an’ his gang.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He may scare ’em wi’ taxes, wi’ rates, an’ oppression,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thooase whea are oot o’ the line o’ succession,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thof te prove ’at <i>he’s</i> in’t, he’s a varry poor chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless he unite wi’ the Romans at yance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then t’ Romans wad help him, an’ think it all reeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te murder Dissenters, an’ put oot ther leeght;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Te cut ’em i’ pieces, te butcher an’ bon ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud till that’s the keease they cannut owerton ’em!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nur Stowsley, nur Yatton, ther frinds will invite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nur Skelton, nur Brotton, ther efforts unite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ll finnd te ther mortification an’ pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hev fowght wi’ t’ wind, an’ hev labour’d i’ vain!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="LEALHOLM_BRIDGE" id="LEALHOLM_BRIDGE"></a>LEALHOLM BRIDGE.</h2> + +<p class="center">A SOLILOQUY DURING A VISIT, AFTER SOME YEARS’ ABSENCE.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, lovely Lealholm! Where shall I begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To say what thou art now, and once hast been?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once the dear seat of all my earthly joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That now, in recollection only, rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Methinks, where’er I look no life appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all the place a cheerless aspect wears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy groves are desolate, thy swains are fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many of them number’d with the dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Religion ’s cold, the poor are sore oppress’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy orphans weep, and widows are distress’d.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O let us pray their griefs may shortly end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God, their Father, still may prove their friend.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This ancient Bridge some faint idea brings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where still the swallow comes and dips her wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The murmuring river, and the rumbling mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear some resemblance to poor Lealholm still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon silent whirlpool beautifies the scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where shades of trees are in its deepness seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where leaping fishes on the surface play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gladly seems to close, the summer’s day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The broken waters from yon glen resound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their constant rippling ’s heard the village round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon burden’d iron pinion loudly shrieks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While tears of oil hang on his rusty cheeks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The greedy race, the water still supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lofty wheel’s broad shelves successive rise;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The thund’ring engine doth her hands employ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Hunter’s place is fill’d by William Joy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The floating bubble swims upon the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Ord<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> lies mould’ring in the silent grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind yon hill the sun escapes from sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yields his empire to the shades of night.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! Poor Lealholm once in glory shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, she like a widow, sits alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once from yon town the people flock’d like bees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To taste the sweetness of the country breeze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pedestrians joyful, here and there were seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While shays and whiskeys deck’d her level green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The banks of Esk, were crowded all along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either with Anglers, or with lookers on.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The full “Moon,”<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> then did through her valleys shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So bright, some thought she never would decline;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Year after year she in her sphere did move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all seem’d animation, life, and love:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, in mists and gloom she disappears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eclips’d—her light no longer Lealholm cheers!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pluck’d from her orb, her borrow’d lustre’s fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the silent tomb, she rests her head.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In distant lands my father’s lot was cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we were left to feel the bitter blast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death’s fatal hand its victim did arrest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tore him from the darlings of his breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, by a mother’s care, when young was led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down by the river to yon primrose bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where birds so sweetly sung the trees among,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought those days were happy, bright, and long.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Oft I, a boy, with others of my age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did eager here in youthful sports engage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft in yon wood we rov’d when life was new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rocks, and trees and rugged caves to view;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where woodbines wild, with sweets perfum’d the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all seem’d joyous, beautiful, and fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! where’s now the grove? The trees are gone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many the wide ocean are upon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few remaining springers yet survive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And keep their owner’s name and place alive!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just so it is with us, could we but see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our fathers who are in eternity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their offspring live, but they’re for ever gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their portion’s fixed, no more will they return!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May we be wise, and lessons learn afresh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To trust no longer in an arm of flesh!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begin to seek, and rest not till we find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peace of God, which satisfies the mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then seeing all my earthly joys are fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, O my soul! art thou for succour led?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis Jesus, that can all thy wants supply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fountain ’s there which never will run dry:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arabia’s grove, nor Sharon’s flowery field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such rich perfume, such holy incense yield:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis Jesus’ merit, and his dying love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis these perfume the glorious courts above!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnotes"><p class="large center"><b>FOOTNOTES:</b></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> The Mill was built by Mr. Ord.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Mrs. Moon, landlady of the Public House, who died during +the Author’s absence.</p></div> +</div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="OLD_SAM" id="OLD_SAM"></a>OLD SAM!</h2> + +<p class="center large"><b>OR</b></p> + +<p class="center large"><b>THE EFFECTS OF THE GOSPEL.</b></p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Attend, all ye who Zion’s tidings love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hearts and hopes are fix’d on things above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose chief delight is centred in the fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of signs and wonders wrought through Jesus’ name;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All ye who virtue love, and evil hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attend, while I a simple tale relate.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A preacher being to a village sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To warn and woo the people to repent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Depending only on God’s mighty grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pious soul was looking for success.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For God, his people had a house prepared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which his arm had many times been bared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that little village congregation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were found some earnest seekers of salvation.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the rest a noted Bruiser stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hands had oft been stain’d with human blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man of constitution so robust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He oft had laid Goliaths in the dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fully on the preacher fix’d his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But scarcely could declare the reason why;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The subject, and the theme on which he dwelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught his attention, and its force he felt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought the preacher all his actions knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His words, like arrows, pierc’d his conscience through;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His spirits fell, his heart was sick and sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such anguish he had never felt before.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +<span class="i0">It seem’d to him as if an angel spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt within as if his heart was broke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought he heard mount Sinai’s thunder roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shook the very centre of his soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such mighty strokes soon humbled all his pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sank condemn’d, and loud for mercy cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“What shall I do?” said he, “Nay, who can tell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! how shall I escape the pit of Hell?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On bended knees he did salvation seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Big tears roll’d down his long undaunted cheek:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The people pray’d, the sinner wept the more,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This man, who till that hour, ne’er wept before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After a time his mighty anguish ceas’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lord of life his captive soul releas’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy he felt he scarcely could contain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The people sung—“a sinner’s born again!”<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some time elaps’d—two of his mates had met,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As custom was, and in a tavern sat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conversing on events that daily pass’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till one the other thus address’d at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Heard you not what occurred the other day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Sam has been converted, people say!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Old Sam!” the other says, with great surprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“What Sam, the Boxer?” “Yes!” the other cries!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Depend upon’t, though you may think it strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in old Sam there is a wondrous change!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Nay,—he converted! Pshaw! ’tis all a whim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ve just as much converted me as him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I can find a man, I have no doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soon will beat all his religion out.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Perhaps not so,” the other softly said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“I think Old Sam ’s of better mettle made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know that he was always bad to bend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on his firmness I will still depend.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other rose, and would a wager bet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Sam was not so far converted yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that if pick’d at, he would turn again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still he would the bloody cause maintain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Sammy’s door their way direct they took,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he had now the tavern’s haunts forsook;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They call’d a rebel out to lead the van,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To vex and aggravate the poor old man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length they reach’d, and rattled at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standing around, like lions to devour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His happy soul; but he had by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King David’s faithful Shepherd for his guide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Sammy from his Bible reading rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straightway forth to meet the rebel goes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Here’s one,” say they, “will fight for what you like!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stamp’d, and raged, and dared old Sam to strike;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sam look’d and smiled, as he before him stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shook his head, thinking the cause not good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length his flaming passion to control,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cries, “The Lord have mercy on thy soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy case I pity, O thou man of might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although this practice once was my delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm thy fierce rage, and to old Sam attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before destruction prove thy awful end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I clearly see the spirit thou art in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I myself oft in the same have been;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a one like thee I’ve made to bend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought their boasting valour to an end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis well for thee that I’m another man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thou wouldst rue the day that this began;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I soon should settle all thy boasts and brags,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make thy bones fall rattling on the flags!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mayst thank God, whose power and grace divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have chang’d this proud, rebellious heart of mine;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The love I feel to thee forbids the blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which soon would lay thy boasting prowess low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restrain thy passion, give old Sam thine hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be thankful that thou dost before him stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go tell the men whom once I did adore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their wager’s lost, old Sam will fight no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell them to save their money for their wives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give up their folly, and reform their lives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To go and seek salvation while they may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the wrath of God drives them away!”<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sam’s noble speech so satisfied them all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That not one there durst him a coward call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Although the wager ’s fairly lost,” say they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“We all must own old Sam hath won the day!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now Sammy like a warrior stout and bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeks new companions, and forsakes the old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While shouts of praise his ravish’d ears surround,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hears, and understands, the joyful sound!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, Sammy has a better master now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more substantial friends to deal with too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Secure he leans on his Redeemer’s breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweetly sings himself away to rest.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THOUGHTS_ON_GOOD_FRIDAY" id="THOUGHTS_ON_GOOD_FRIDAY"></a>THOUGHTS ON GOOD FRIDAY:</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Occasioned by seeing two “<i>Sinkers</i>” dragged out of a Coal Pit; +one of them killed, the other dreadfully wounded. At a short +distance, a busy crowd were preparing their tents and posts for +the approaching races, on Easter Monday and Tuesday. On +mentioning the fatal occurrence, and naming the day, a +bystander exclaimed, “O, Good Friday is nought!”</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The morning sun shone dim, as if in pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see that day by man so soon despised.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feather’d choirs did heedless man reprove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who had more cause than they, with early song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To greet the morn, on which their Saviour bled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! that man should e’er forget his love!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down, down the pit, the cheerful sinkers went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor grief, nor fear through all the gloom appear’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though at the bottom deep, grim death sat shrouded<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In horrid features, measuring their minutes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foul was the air, and bad;—they saw him not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dream’d he was so near, nor held dispute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which the lot might fall, to be his victim:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When suddenly, through wanton carelessness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the just judgment of an angry God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kibble kick’d, brim full of splinter’d rock!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down fell at once his ponderous instrument,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full thirty fathom, whizzing as it went!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath its heavy crash a victim fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And groan’d, nor ceas’d, till he had groan’d his last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then from behind the scene the monster stept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with his bony fingers hurl’d his dart:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its point another touch’d, but not so deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from the pit I saw the sufferers dragg’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard deep groans, and saw their mangled flesh.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The former then with grief was quick interr’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other a poor halting cripple lives.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where’s now the man that says “Good Friday’s nought?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With accidents like this, God’s swift judgments,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could, if ’twere requested, fill these sheets;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to the man who thinks, and judges right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This may suffice. And is Good Friday nought?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that day nought on which our Saviour bled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To buy our pardon, to save by suff’ring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open salvation’s fount for crimson crimes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wash, and make us guilty lepers clean?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas for man! He sees, he feels it not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of old, men saw, and felt it, though far off.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The martyrs saw, own’d, and observ’d it too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fasting, prayer, and self-denial;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This made them march, when call’d, with holy joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet the dagger’s point, or burning stake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth once felt, and felt to her foundations;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The marble mountain felt, and quak’d, and shiver’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun felt, and grew dark; the heavens wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hell beneath, in dismal groanings howl’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The serpent felt,—and still feels in his bruis’d head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saviour!—Yes, the King of Glory felt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that sad cup his subjects should have drunk:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both in the temple, and the wilderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The street, the judgment hall,—in Pilate’s scourge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In cruel mockings, and the scarlet robe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt it too beneath the rugged wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When He fatigued climb’d Calvary’s steep brow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt it in the hammer and the nails<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That pierc’d his flesh, though he offended not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt it in the reed, and crown of thorns!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt it in the hyssop, vinegar, and gall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In strange upbraidings, and the soldier’s spear!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +<span class="i0">He felt it in that mighty crush, which should,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would have crush’d, his guilty murderers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt it till his mortal part expir’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He feels it yet, and so do his disciples:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the proud stiff-neck’d sinner feels it not;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perverse, he <i>will not</i>, yet one day he shall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he at present, feast and garnish out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wife’s, or children’s birth days, and his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With songs, and cards, and music, and the dance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet this, like Job’s day, shall be blotted out!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he <i>will not</i>, yet he shall regard it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When God appears in majesty, and power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arm’d with thunder-bolts, and chariots of fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On all his foes to pour his vengeance!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes! All men then will wish to be his friends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E’en those who have his words and grace despis’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will wish their lives were to begin again!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Whither, O, whither shall the guilty flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When consternation turns the good man pale!”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TO_A_WITHERED_FLOWER" id="TO_A_WITHERED_FLOWER"></a>TO A WITHERED FLOWER!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Withering Flower, upbraid me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why cast on me that look so pale?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou my attention court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To listen to thy mournful tale?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why bow thy head? Why bend thy neck?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why look so drooping, wan, and cold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give my careless thoughts a check,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell me <i>I</i> am getting old!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fading Flower, upbraid me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still nodding with the gentle breeze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or dost thou think I have forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I too am wasting by degrees?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For scarce can I believe my sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lately saw thee fresh and gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That beauty could so early blight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or such fresh colours fade away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Drooping Flower, upbraid me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But turn to Sol’s enlivening ray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I in some climate cold or hot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must also sicken and decay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, why dost thou shake off thy leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show thy heart so fair and clean?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mine to smite with inward grief,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feel the many plagues within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weeping Flower, upbraid me still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For half the conquest thou hast gain’d.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes! listen to thy tale I will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until its meaning be explain’d.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair emblem thou of human life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thee its changing tints are seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our visit here, so frail and brief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is painted in those tints of thine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When in thy bud so rich and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou did’st escape the spoiler’s hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That would have reft thy charms away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Twas pity check’d—and let thee stand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While cherish’d by the blushing fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waving on thy hardy stem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fragrance rich, perfum’d the air,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou’rt blasted now to me and them!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unlike to thee, whose task is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Man shall quit this vale of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After this life’s short glass is run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man shall exist in nobler spheres.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All earthly glories fade away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So transient and so insecure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With us, alas, how short’s their stay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prefigur’d by a dying Flower!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet we have cause to bless the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If weary of a life mispent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this thy exit, any may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be led to ponder, and repent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou transient teller of the truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May he who bids, and thunders roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive the follies of my youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stamp thy lesson on My soul!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_COUNTRY_LOVE_FEAST" id="THE_COUNTRY_LOVE_FEAST"></a>THE COUNTRY LOVE FEAST.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>Held in an old Barn, Farndale, Yorkshire.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing, O my muse, in praise of Zion sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In praise of those who her glad tidings bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In praise to Him who left the courts above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To manifest to us his Father’s love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Celestial powers, my heart and voice inspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If such a worm as I can feel your heav’nly fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such a theme, to such a noble song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sublimer strains than I can reach belong.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glory to God, whose mercy and free grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are not confin’d to either time or place,<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +<span class="i0">To bless, and save the fallen sons of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cleanse believers, and to pardon sin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what an humble, yet exalted place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Christians meet, the great I AM to praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Barn!—A Temple! what a place is this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emblem of heav’n, and type of future bliss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An earthen floor serves us on which to tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roof is cover’d with the spider’s web:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such is man’s best righteousness compar’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which full many a lofty head’s ensnar’d.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No crimson pews distinguish rich from poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No brass inscriptions glitter on the floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No marble monuments adorn the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No polish’d altars where men prostrate fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No tapestry doth hang the pulpit round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No costly vaults are in this temple found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No pealing organ’s note delights the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what is better far,—our God is here!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherever two or three sincerely meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who have towards Zion’s city turn’d their feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis there our God himself vouchsafes to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bind the strong, and set the prisoner free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world’s applause we cheerfully disdain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shelter here from company profane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For as we differ, ’tis by Jesus’ grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ’tis His presence dignifies the place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before us here the bread of life is spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind are stalls where now the ox is fed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like that in Bethlehem where Jesus lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This stable now beholds a glorious day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here Pilgrims meet their travels to relate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when, and where they enter’d mercy’s gate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tell us how their eyes with tears did fill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When unbelief was wilful of its will.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +<span class="i0">They tell us how their sins did them oppress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill’d their inmost souls with deep distress;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how the Lord their burden did remove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pardon’d their sins, and fill’d their hearts with love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They all rejoice to see each other’s face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear each prospers in the work of grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one consent their cheerful hearts aspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ecstasies of joy their bosoms fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such times as these we think too soon are gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our happy souls cemented into one!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We pray, and part, each to his distant home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still we cry, “Lord, let thy kingdom come!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both far and near his Kingdom doth extend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temples are rising both by sea and land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Bethel flag, high waving in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls seamen to engage in praise and prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whole streets, reform’d, the great assembly join,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak with new tongues, and sing in songs divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor trembling sinners wipe their watery eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lamentations pierce the bowing skies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blasphemers fall beneath the power of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And statesmen flock to hear his Holy Word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While some of them a portion find to spare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waste Zion’s walls and bulwarks to repair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See golden prospects round us rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See the dejected raise their downcast eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liberated captives shout applause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Zion’s King, and his victorious cause!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="ODE_TO_BRITAIN" id="ODE_TO_BRITAIN"></a>ODE TO BRITAIN.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shine, Britain! Shine! Thy virtues we commend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy light to distant nations shall extend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A city on a hill cannot be hid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can’st thou be, while Heav’n lifts up thy head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine, Britain! Shine! O send the bible forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To each benighted corner of the earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all with joy its richest blessings taste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And share with us the glorious Gospel Feast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O happy people! Highly favour’d Isle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shares the sunshine of Jehovah’s smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scenes thy sons and daughters have enjoy’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kings have desir’d to see, but were denied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We hope the sound of discord soon will cease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And angels sing a universal peace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When barren lands with plenty shall abound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Christ be worshipp’d the wide world around.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At thoughts of this the lonely desert sings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see his altars throng’d with prostrate Kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see great men of honour and renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast off the coronet to wear a crown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hasten, O Lord, the long—long wish’d for day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When favour’d with thy truth’s enlightening ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor Hottentots shall raise the song divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And savage Turks, the heav’nly concert join.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Blacks and Whites, a vast redeemed throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall all unite to swell the mighty song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worship one God, and hail Him Lord and King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the whole world the Saviour’s praises sing.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="A_VOICE_FROM_THE_DEAD" id="A_VOICE_FROM_THE_DEAD"></a>A VOICE FROM THE DEAD!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Written on being uncivilly treated, when erecting some +Tombstones in —— Church Yard, where the Author was denied the +use of any part of the Church, Porch, or Stable; was forbidden +to Letter the Stone in the Church Yard, though it was more than +a mile from the Church to the nearest convenient place for such +a work; and was also denied the Keys of the Gate:—yet at that +very time, the parson’s horse and cow, were feeding on the +grass, tearing up the graves, and breaking down the stones, +while none dared to complain! On seeing the horse’s leg sink +into a grave up to the lisk, the following thoughts suggested +themselves.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What foot is that disturbs my rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which through my coffin lid hath press’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And caus’d my bones the air to feel?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the parson’s horse’s heel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Tis hard so much as there’s to pay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That corpses cannot quiet lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But are by cow or horse plough’d up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For priests to reap a three-fold crop!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through such a process they must pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grave, the tombstone, and the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Easter Offering beside:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These claims must never be denied!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What though they do the grass devour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave their dung against the door!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pay up,—say nought,—’What’s that to thou?’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is the parson’s horse or cow!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know the living dare not grumble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor at the parson’s conduct stumble!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the simple truth is told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dead men they can get no hold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We thought no hammer was to sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon this consecrated ground,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet cow or horse may grind our bones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rub their sides against the stones!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some think things so are constituted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That masons’ tools are all polluted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that the parson’s horse or cow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like th’ Church, is consecrated too!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus they may gallop o’er our graves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And split our coffins into halves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spite of widows tears and groans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May pastime make of dead folks’ bones!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is too hard for flesh and blood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thing which cannot be withstood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thing which inward grief imparts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pious minds and tender hearts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But men enthrall’d must never speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor for redress attempt to seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with such creatures be content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Bishops have ordain’d and sent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like him who dwells upon the coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who of the priesthood makes his boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regardless what the flock endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“If he can but the fleece secure!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His present residence and living,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are of his earthly father’s giving;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So none his title dare dispute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Bishops cannot turn him out!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though life and conduct be profane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knows that men dare not complain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or soon he’d show them his degrees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take revenge in <i>tythes</i> and <i>fees</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such workmen’s labour is in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep their hands from bloody stain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain they strive to show the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That leads to glory and to God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No wonder if such Church decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If members leave it day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where tyrannising is the law,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And till a change, it must be so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The remedy will be unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Priests are of the Spirit born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till they get hearts refin’d and pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dissenters must their scorn endure!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TO_THE_MOOR_BIRDS_IN_A_STORM" id="TO_THE_MOOR_BIRDS_IN_A_STORM"></a>TO THE MOOR BIRDS IN A STORM.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye birds of the Moor, I doubt you’ll be poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The storm is quite likely to last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The owl and the crow, are shelter’d below,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But you are expos’d to the blast!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The snow lies so deep, the hill is so steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My footsteps are feeble and slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O lend me your wings, ye dear little things,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To carry me over the snow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, I have no gun, so you need not run,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor cackle, nor spread out your tails;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No danger is near, you’ve nothing to fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The poacher is down in the dales.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind whistle’s woe, through the valley below,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the birds that are down in the wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may hear by report, that the gun is afloat,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To scatter their feathers and blood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If you’ll be content, till the storm shall be spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And suffer no envy or strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No doubt but you may, on some future day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Get fat, and escape with your life!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But if you encroach, or chance to approach,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The web-footed classes domain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If wide you should stray, or fall out by the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A thousand to one but you’re slain!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="LINES_ON_RETURNING_A_BORROWED_STICK_OF_SLENDERISH_SIZE" id="LINES_ON_RETURNING_A_BORROWED_STICK_OF_SLENDERISH_SIZE"></a>LINES ON RETURNING A BORROWED STICK OF SLENDERISH SIZE,</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Which had been lent with a strict charge to take particular +care of it, and to return it as soon as done with.</p> + +<p class="smaller center">To <span class="smcap">Mr. William Horner</span>, of Ripon.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear Billy, with thanks, I return thee thy switch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which has many times kept me out of the ditch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have found oft when stumbling o’er hillock or stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slender supporter is better than none!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the stars were beclouded and darkness prevail’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rain was descending, its aid never fail’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it grop’d out my way, and assisted my sight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When my foot would have slipp’d, it kept me upright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It never forsook me, or broke my command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless it was when it slipt out of my hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then myself it might blame, for not taking more care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For when duty demanded it always was there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is rare upon earth to find such a friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which one can always so safely depend;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When help was most needed it paid most regard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never reprov’d me for using it hard!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_THUNDER_STORM" id="THE_THUNDER_STORM"></a>THE THUNDER STORM.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The praise be thine, Almighty, matchless King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose care and power, my muse presumes to sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose tender care protects, while thousands sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wakeful sea-boy on the mighty deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dost from perils screen his naked head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which in a moment fill the world with dread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, while thy lightnings flash, and thunders roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost whisper secret peace into his soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The praise be thine, whose interposing power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protected us across yon lonely moor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through that night of terror and alarm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mysteriously preserv’d us all from harm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That night of awful peril we record,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ascribing all the glory to the Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from yon distant Meeting we return’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pious friends at home our absence mourn’d!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The moon and stars at once withdrew their light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus increas’d the horrors of the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud claps of thunder shook the sons of pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And female courage was severely tried!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The time pass’d on in conversation sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While flaming lightning flash’d around our feet,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet by the flash, in each believer’s face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We read the sign of confidence and peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some to our God did then devoutly pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While others sung that awful hour away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice was heard, “Ye need not be afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hope is on the Rock of Ages stay’d!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our virgins trimm’d their lamps, and sweetly sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tenderly around each other clung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, as through fire and flood they took their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salvation was the burden of their lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Midst dismal darkness the black clouds were driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all the fearful majesty of heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then as if an angel cleft the cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show’d to man the glowing wrath of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More quick than either thought, or sight of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From north to south the flaming fluid ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The east and west burst into a blaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guilty man beheld it with amaze!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It seem’d to warn the world against that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When earth and sky shall melt, and pass away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The distant mountains seem’d to own his nod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cried to man, “Prepare to meet thy God!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All glory be to our eternal King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who brought us all safe home His praise to sing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May we both hear and keep his Holy Word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so fulfil the royal law of God!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_MISERS_AWAY" id="THE_MISERS_AWAY"></a>THE MISER’S AWAY!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The miser’s away, and he’ll never come back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Any more his rusty old guineas to crack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his niggardly fare, of potatoes and fish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His successor enjoys a more plentiful dish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I once had occasion to pass by his door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose threshold so seldom was cross’d by the poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kitten came out in its innocent play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pleasantly three-thrumm’d—“The Miser’s away!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The way weary traveller, to shorten the mile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes has occasion to go by the style;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gain that he gets, his spirit revives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cuts off an elbow, and sooner arrives.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through one of his fields the pathway doth lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And very few ’scap’d the dint of his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gate as it opens and creaks, seems to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Pass stranger, and welcome’—“The Miser’s away!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In his ancient old Intake, long kept without fence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And without cultivation, for fear of expence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the plough, or the spade, the rough is made plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the hopeful young husbandman scatters the grain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the bones of the gimmer decay’d on the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nettles and briars were every where found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fine corn is now growing, all smiling and gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It had not been so, but—“The Miser’s away!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The birds haste away to the green holly bush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blackbird now tries to outrival the thrush;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tip the tall branches on fluttering wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make nearer approaches, and merrily sing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flowers in the garden around the bee-hive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With unwonted freshness begin to revive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To each new beholder their beauties display,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whisper in perfume—“The Miser’s away!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here among his old books his Sabbaths he spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On logic and physic sat making comment;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought it would be the best method to use,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save both his carcase, his money, and shoes;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’d be his own doctor, and preacher likewise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his old yellow heap, like a mountain would rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The riches he heap’d up, by night and by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another has found, for—“The Miser’s away!”<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_MISTAKE" id="THE_MISTAKE"></a>THE MISTAKE:</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Containing a Moral for high looks, and forward folks.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye sportsmen bright of skill, and sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who range o’er hill and dale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awhile give ear, and you shall hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A true and homely tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye friends at home, who seldom roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Much farther than the mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be sure you’re wise, and mind your eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or let your guns lie still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It happen’d where, as you shall hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A building was erected,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to complete its breadth and height,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Some workmen were collected.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One morning chill, before yon hill<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was gilded with the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or adze, or axe, or mallet had,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their battering begun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two favourite ducks, had ’scaped the fox,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Well fed, and feather’d too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sportive play, aspiring they<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Took wing, and off they flew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With airy wheel, they quick did scale,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The lofty wall unscar’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trees they topt, and down they dropt<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A gun-shot from the yard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A joiner ran, to fetch a gun<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The wild ducks to secure,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gun he brought, with which he thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To make at least one fewer.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Through mist and dew, the contents flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A duck began to cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one took flight, and left our sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor could we it espy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This done, the man full swiftly ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To gather up his game,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both fore and aft, the people laugh’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To see his <i>wild</i> duck <i>tame</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He set her down, she gaz’d around,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wond’ring at such abuse,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for her weight, or else she might<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Have pass’d for a wild goose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In friendship sweet, the ducks soon meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And talk their frolic o’er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in their play, they seem to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They’ll fly so high no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our thoughts oft may, our skill betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But actions they speak louder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he’d been still, he’d saved his skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Likewise his shot and powder!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_BROKEN_SEAL" id="THE_BROKEN_SEAL"></a>THE BROKEN SEAL.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To sing of Southcotes clouded fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My muse presumes and tries to soar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though some may say, “Blot out her name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it be seen or heard no more,”<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have a secret to reveal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Effected by a broken Seal!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This poor Joanna had her day;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While fair and bright the morning shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She led too many far astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose souls much better things had known;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She soon their ancient tribe could tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And signed their title with a Seal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A poor, illiterate, labouring man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who went Joanna’s voice to hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stranger to salvation’s plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had linger’d on from year to year;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He thought she preach’d the gospel real,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he of course must have a Seal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Without a heart transform’d and new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joanna Southcote took him in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seal’d him her disciple true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without repenting of his sin;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He slyly from his wife did steal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The price of his mysterious Seal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her creed on such conditions hung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That while her seals continued whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hope was bright, and faith was strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they could neither fail nor fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But none could rescue those from hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who chanc’d to crack or break the Seal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, lo, upon a certain day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Examining his little store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joanna’s passport to survey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pocket book he rummag’d o’er,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But consternation turn’d him pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he perceiv’d he’d <i>broke</i> his Seal!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His heart was stung with deep dismay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With anguish, and tormenting fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which like a trumpet night and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did sound this sentence in his ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Thou never canst thy crime conceal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Remember thou hast broke thy Seal!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He thought the Almighty from on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would soon his red hot lightnings pour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he, a sinner doom’d to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might then expect the hottest shower;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God would on him his wrath reveal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For he had broke the fatal Seal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He more than either once or twice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heavy heart and tearful eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went to a preacher for advice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who soon his sickness did descry;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By what his conscience seem’d to feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His heart was broken with his Seal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The preacher then without delay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did point him to the sinner’s friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exhorting him to watch and pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the Son of God depend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose efficacious blood could heal<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His soul, though he had broke his Seal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One day in agonizing prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believing on the Son of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the dark borders of despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found redemption in His blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And from the transport he did feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He bless’d the day he broke the Seal!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_STONE" id="THE_STONE"></a>THE STONE:</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Composed to gratify a Scottish Rhymer, and brother mason. </p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A stone!—and what about a stone?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What sense is there in that?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I answer, in itself there’s none:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But hold, I’ll tell you what!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft while in craggy woods I’ve been,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All silent, and alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand beauties I have seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Conceal’d within a stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While passing through life’s troubled scenes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O’erwhelm’d with care and grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stranger in this wilderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And needful of relief:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not wishful then to every one,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To make my troubles known,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thing most useful in this world,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I’ve gained it by a stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some boast of riches, and estates,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of chariots, and of steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ships that sail by wind or steam,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And some of mighty deeds:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all the treasure I desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In cities, or alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is peace of conscience, health of mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And hewing at a stone!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our kings, and nobles, dukes and lords,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose splendid castles rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose palaces, and lofty towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Reach almost to the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Greece and Corinth make their boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yet are oblig’d to own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some honour due, from first to last,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To those who hew the stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In every town, in modern days,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Some system new prevails,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men deviate from former ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The mason’s art now fails:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet masons will be masons still,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And will each other own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smile at all attempts of skill<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To imitate a stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The work will stand, and not disgrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The master-builder’s plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defying rain, and tempests fierce,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For twice the age of man!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all their compositions curl’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And round their columns thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grandest temple in the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We read was built of stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When this fair earth at first arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And man was made upright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him, the great God of Heaven chose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And view’d him with delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had he thus stood, (’tis thought by some,)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And in God’s image shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It never would have been our doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To hew and polish stone.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But man soon fell, by mortal sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And since the deed is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we its captives long have been,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Th’ effect we cannot shun:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet though man from perfection fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And sin did make him groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lord in Zion laid for him,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">“A sure foundation stone!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When men began to multiply,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And sin defil’d the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lord look’d down with pitying eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With man he could not part.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun by day, and moon by night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And twinkling stars that shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made them all rejoice, and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of “Christ, the corner stone!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whoe’er upon this stone shall fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall surely broken be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet he may still be heal’d again,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And be from sin set free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he on whom this stone shall fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall see the Almighty’s frown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall be crush’d as powder small,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By this stupendous stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Moses, that mighty man of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who Israel’s flock did lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose feet the path of duty trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And oft for them did plead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In conversation with the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His face with glory shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from awful Sinai bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The “Tables made of stone!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But lo, revolting Israel’s seed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In Horeb, as we’re told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had during Moses’ absence made,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A calf of molten gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such folly made his griev’d heart ache,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With pangs till then unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down he threw at once, and brake<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The “Tables made of stone!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though ours be not such flagrant sins,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But lie perhaps conceal’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day is coming when all things,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now hid shall be reveal’d:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some we have great cause to fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">If they the truth would own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have little gods which they revere<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of gold, or precious stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When once through Israel’s armies brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The boasting challenge ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When great Goliath sent to Saul,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To find him out a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would in single combat fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till one should be o’erthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How little did he think that day<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of falling by a stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With steps that made the earth to bend,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And spirit swell’d with pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He boasting shook his greaves of brass,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Israel’s God defied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Jesse’s loins a stripling sprung,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who made the monster groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from the whirling sling he threw,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The feeble,—fatal stone!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Proud armies have been overthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And cities sack’d within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And towers and temples broken down,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The sad effects of sin:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And once an Angel did foreshow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The fall of Babylon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in the heaving deep he threw,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A great and mighty stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When David’s highly favour’d son,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His temple first began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They from the mountains brought a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which seem’d a pest to man:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The masons view’d it o’er and o’er,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But oft with haughty scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejected it, and roll’d aside<br /></span> +<span class="i4">This strange, unshapely stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From first to last it tumbling lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">An object of disdain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till time, upon a certain day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The mystery did explain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last, and loftiest pinnacle,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To finish and adorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sought, but none would do so well<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As this rejected stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A finer building ne’er was seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By any mortal eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The timbrels rung, and Israel sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And old men wept for joy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And having thus their temple rear’d<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Themselves are forc’d to own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which the builders once refus’d<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is now the Corner Stone!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Tis thus Jehovah’s favour’d sons,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With hearts by grace refined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are all compar’d to living stones,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For nobler ends design’d.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus he the mighty structure rears,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And perfects them in one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glorious Church,—and <span class="smcap">Jesus</span> is<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The chief, the corner stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A stone by Daniel was perceiv’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And still the record stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which from the mountains should proceed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Cut out as without hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose dignity should greater grow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And mighty Kings dethrone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all the earth be fill’d below,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With this amazing stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So “in due time God sent his Son,”<br /></span> +<span class="i4">According to His word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose sacred mission was begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And seal’d with precious blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, while He dwelt on earth below,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Did make salvation known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And caus’d His heavenly love to flow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In hearts once hard as stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Pharisees and cruel Jews,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Did seek from day to day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This holy person to abuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To persecute and slay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But God did give his Angels charge,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O’er his anointed one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest he at any time should dash<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His foot against a stone!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length his faithfulness to prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He for the world must die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And power was given to wicked men,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Lord to crucify.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun was dark at that event,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And with His dying groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth trembled! and the rocks were rent,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The rocks of solid stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His enemies still follow’d Him,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When He lay in the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hewn in the rock, for Joseph’s tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who did His body crave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest He their projects should destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And they be overthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shut him in, and set a guard,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And seal’d the mighty stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Roman bands could not confine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Saviour to His cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He manifests His power divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In spite of Earth and Hell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father “owns His suffering Son,”<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor leaves Him then alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lo! “an Angel comes by night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And rolls away the stone!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He rises to men’s wond’ring view,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And triumphs o’er His foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And proves the blessed record true,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though sin and death oppose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In glorious majesty He reigns,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On his exalted throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still He power on earth retains,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To soften hearts of stone!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To those who overcome through Him,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A stone, and a new name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gives, which none can read but they,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor understand the same.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they shall share His joys divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Seated on glittering thrones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And walk those streets whose pavements shine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Like gold, or precious stones!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TO_THE_RISING_SUN_ON_A_FROSTY_MORNING" id="TO_THE_RISING_SUN_ON_A_FROSTY_MORNING"></a>TO THE RISING SUN! ON A FROSTY MORNING.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail glorious Sun! bright regent of the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladly I welcome thine all cheering ray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Midst frost and snow, a visit thus from thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sets each numb toe and frozen finger free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright emblem of the Majesty on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lives and reigns, the Lord of earth and sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thy face the hailstones melt away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy glad light turns darkness into day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft moving down the sloping dale I’ve eyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy golden radiance from the mountain side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have often long’d upon yon hills to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To catch a comfortable ray from thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now chill November’s breath is cold and keen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trees around have lost their lovely green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While horned cattle from the mountains roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for their masters low, to take them home.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The early plough boy stops to clap his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tender female dances where she stands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I, half starv’d, have thought thy coming long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I hail thee welcome with a song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Tis said in heathen lands they worship thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When o’er the mountain tops thy light they see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as thou here no homage dost receive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I to thy Maker all the glory give.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His face, like thine, the drooping sinner cheers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oppress’d with guilt, and overwhelm’d with fears:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ray from thee, O uncreated Sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breaks up, and makes long frozen fountains run!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou, from thyself, the soul to purify,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost pour the living water from on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which if it doth within the soul remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sinner’s heart shall never freeze again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! he who daily drinks of this pure wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For sensual pleasure shall no relish have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But calm amidst the turbulence of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall dwell for ever free from care and strife.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shine, glorious Sun! thy blessings richly pour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cheer our fallen world from hour to hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thy glad beams, O visit every vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Till every starving soul thine influence feel!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="LINES_IN_MEMORY_OF_THE_REV_D_DUCK_CURATE_OF_DANBY" id="LINES_IN_MEMORY_OF_THE_REV_D_DUCK_CURATE_OF_DANBY"></a>LINES IN MEMORY OF THE REV. D. DUCK, CURATE OF DANBY.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! Daniel, faithful Daniel’s gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His weeping flock lament their loss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more they fix their eyes upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That zealous preacher of the cross!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more he meets them at the gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No breezes waft his silver’d hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While o’er the dead, both small and great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soul breathes out the ardent prayer!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor from his eye, when grave-scenes call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His streaming tears are seen to flow,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those tears, which to the earth did fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mingle with the dust below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more he at the altar stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bless, or break the hallow’d bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from his lips and lifted hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each hungry, holy soul is fed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But mingled happy saints among,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ravish’d soul doth now ascend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To share that bliss which he so long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To others here did recommend.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="AN_ELEGY_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_BELOVED_CHILD" id="AN_ELEGY_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_BELOVED_CHILD"></a>AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED CHILD.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My little boy! my lovely boy!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why in such haste away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will no embrace, or tempting toy,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Induce thy longer stay?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What prompted thee the day before,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To climb thy Father’s knee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring to the window or the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With such unusual glee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wonder oft, with wakeful eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And think it might be so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some Spirit then was passing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And beckon’d thee to go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I recollect with other things,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which I have felt and fear’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once something like the sound of wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Within the room was heard!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hast thou in infant vision seen<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The city of our God?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or on those holy mountains been,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By saints and angels trod?<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or hast thou heard the melody<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which fills the courts above?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or has thy Saviour shown to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The tokens of his love?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If so,—no wonder thou should’st look<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So light on all below;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou hast tasted of the brook<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where living waters flow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No wonder thou with such delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Didst view the rising sun:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then glance on us thine eye so bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And flutter to be gone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If thou hast seen among heaven’s choirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The crown that thou shalt wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive a parent’s fond desires,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To keep thee longer here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If thou among earth’s griefs and joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hadst any longer stayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With other rude and wicked boys,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hadst into evil strayed;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou thy Saviour disobey’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who died thy soul to save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy parents’ heads might have been laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With sorrow in the grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If it be wrong to mourn for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Lord that wrong forgive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grant us grace each day, that we<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In him may walk and live.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O could our faith but pierce the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That hovers round our clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We might prefer an early tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To one that’s old and grey!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Could we but hear the songs they sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or see the robes they wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Twould give our resolutions wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With longings to be there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To see those heavenly harpers young,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Light up the sacred fires;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see their nimble fingers run<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Along the golden wires;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would make a man forget his grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His conflicts here below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give a mother’s soul relief,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With languishings to go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would make us all forsake our sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Jesus Christ adore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring the resolution in,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To grieve our God no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would make us to His house resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To weep, and watch, and pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until we gain that blissful port<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where tears are wiped away.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="ON_THE_FIRST_TEXT_HEARD_SPIRITUALLY" id="ON_THE_FIRST_TEXT_HEARD_SPIRITUALLY"></a>ON THE FIRST TEXT HEARD SPIRITUALLY.</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(“My heart is fixed.”—Psalm lvii. 7.)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By grace divine I sing, “My heart is fix’d!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Fix’d on the corner stone in Zion laid:)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spoke, I wept, and heard the blessed text,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all my wavering, wandering thoughts were stay’d.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He to me spoke, as with an angel’s voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all my fears at once like lightning fled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O how my troubled soul did then rejoice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was as one new risen from the dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice happy bard who wrote such words as these,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So applicable to a case like mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such music surely never reach’d my ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor words did ever with such lustre shine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though all who read, may not that beauty see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feel the truths that sin sick hearts console,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, O, it was a blessed text to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which the Lord spoke peace unto my soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Tis mystery all! ’Tis like the wind that blows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear its sound, as it sweeps through the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feel it come, but know not where it goes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so is every one that’s born of God!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now I can sing, “My soul is sick of love!”—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love to God, and every one I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor smiles, nor frowns, my happy soul can move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A friend or stranger is alike to me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But will the Lord such rebels still receive?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can angels sing for such a wretch as I?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did Jesus die, that one so vile might live?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So vile, so full of sin and misery!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! He the sinner doth invite to come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For rich, for poor, for all his grace is free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly, sinners, fly to Christ, there yet is room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all who feel their guilt and misery.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King is now my Friend, I cannot doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he His witness doth to me impart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’ll bind the strong man arm’d, and cast him out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pour the living stream into my heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O happy soul, when thus to life restor’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let folly end, where genuine hope begins;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He finds a heaven, who truly finds the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he that finds this heaven, must lose his sins!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O may I learn to do the thing that’s right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My love to God, by true obedience show;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And read, and wrestle, strive, rebuke, and fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch, and pray, and to perfection grow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So when my warfare here on earth is past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Death on me his chilling hand shall lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God will receive my ransom’d soul at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live and reign with Him, in endless day!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TO_A_SQUIRREL_IN_A_CAGE" id="TO_A_SQUIRREL_IN_A_CAGE"></a>TO A SQUIRREL IN A CAGE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little spinner, blithe and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dancing thus thy life away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A King his palace might resign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a couch as soft as thine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou canst choose, as suits thee best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to toil, and when to rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free from earthly care and strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merrily doth pass thy life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere the day begins to dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art at thy work alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the early riser seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turning round thy light machine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quick thou tip’st the slender wires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which more art than strength requires;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be the weather foul or fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heart and foot are light as air!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Joyful in thy little jail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dost spread thy bushy tail:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Playing many a curious prank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tumbling like a mountebank!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When awful thunders o’er thee break,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And earth’s foundations seem to shake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free from terror and dismay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou heed’st it not, but spin’st away.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Separated now for good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thy cronies of the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou no more dost wander free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skipping light from tree to tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though once with thee things better went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou seemest happy and content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If some kind friend supply thy lack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By giving thee a nut to crack.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when thou hast it in thy paw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In face of either friend or foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beamings of thine eye impart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The motions of a grateful heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alone, confin’d within thy cage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou fearest not the battle’s rage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of courage bold, and action brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though in prison—thou’rt not a slave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If life is spared, some other day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I shall chance to come this way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A present unto thee I’ll bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou bonny, little woodland thing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little spinner, blithe and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dancing thus thy life away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Queen her palace might resign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a pillow soft as thine!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></p> + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TO_A_BIRD_SINGING_IN_WINTER" id="TO_A_BIRD_SINGING_IN_WINTER"></a>TO A BIRD SINGING IN WINTER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, why, little bird, so cheerfully sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When all things around look so sad?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prospect at present, as touching the spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gives cause to be sorry, not glad!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had April appear’d in loveliest hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And made the green meadows look gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou merrily might’st have mounted thy bough,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And warbled thy minutes away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But summer’s far off, and still in the copse,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The cold winter’s snow doth descend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce winds, and sharp frosts, may yet blast thy hopes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And bring thy sweet song to an end.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By craft of the boys, in bush, or in wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy foot may be caught in a snare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou whilst seeking a morsel of food,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Be a captive, ere thou art aware.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why merrily sing, when thou hast no barn,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In which to lay up thy grain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why warble thy notes, while unthankful man,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So often is heard to complain?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why cheerfully sing when there are no flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or sun in the valley to shine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis proof that thy prospects are brighter than ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy heart more contented than mine!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="PETCHS_ELEGY" id="PETCHS_ELEGY"></a>PETCH’S ELEGY!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How short, how frail is our abode on earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yesterday it seems since we sprang forth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life doth no sooner sparkle in our eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than we are subject to decline and die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A brother Mason now a victim lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Death, whose icy hand hath closed his eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sleeps, forgetful of his toil and care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In prime of life, no more his voice we hear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more the chisel moves within his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sounding axe no more his skill demands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But silence reigns,—his spirit’s gone to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ransom’d soul is number’d with the blest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His sins and follies here he did bemoan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy burden, grievous to be borne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lo, the Lord, a week before he died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dispers’d the gloom, and all his wants supplied<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the Redeemer’s blood he did believe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God his pardoning love to him did give:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such depth of mercy fill’d us with surprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tears of gratitude flow’d from our eyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He boldly triumph’d in God’s pardoning grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With love and patience beaming in his face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till fainting in the icy arms of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He praised his God with his departing breath<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How oft have we in health, and free from pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joyful to labour, cross’d the dewy plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the morning stars had disappear’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or early harmony the woodlands cheer’d!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How oft have we been partners through the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sung in hymns our nightly hours away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! my partner’s gone! Can I forbear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To welcome down my cheek the rolling tear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more on earth his voice shall mix with mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In social converse, or in songs divine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be it my chief concern to be prepar’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like him to die, and meet my just reward.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">False witnesses did raise a vile report,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid things to his charge that he knew not:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now he’s gone to be with Christ on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where he is safe, and may their power defy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now slander and reproach at once may cease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more can they disturb our brother’s peace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their arrows keen can never pierce his soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is departed, and hath reach’d the goal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell! but Oh! we hope to meet again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And join our voices in a nobler strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Jesus our great Prophet, Priest, and King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In everlasting majesty doth reign!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="REFLECTIONS_ON_PETCHS_TOMB" id="REFLECTIONS_ON_PETCHS_TOMB"></a>REFLECTIONS ON PETCH’S TOMB.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear Petch belov’d! Thy endless portion’s fix’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As death hath left thee, so shall judgment find:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy spirit, with a world of spirits mix’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath left its mouldering tenement behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sprightly and active, thou the other day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst fill thy station in this world of cares;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In life’s fair morn, thy soul hath slipt away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From its delusions, and a thousand snares!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy cheeks a more than common bloom did wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy voice with music sweetly did agree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart was lively, thy complexion fair:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had I chose one for life, I’d chosen thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perhaps thy mind dwelt on some future scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anticipating more than was allow’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When pale affliction drew a veil between,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And death appointed thee an early shroud!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methinks I hear thee, while I thus survey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dreary place where thy remains are laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crying, “Prepare for the great judgment day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That day which shall thy destiny decide!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There’s no repenting in the gloomy grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor in that world in which I now exist;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ died, that he from hell thy soul might save,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep his commands, or thou wilt ne’er be blest!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here I should faint, reflecting on my theme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And recollecting thy great sins now past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not the grace of God, thy passport been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not heaven deign’d to smile on thee at last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou not given some proof of penitence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had I not witness’d oft the bless’d effect,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I might have fear’d, through disobedience,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Heaven for ever would thy soul reject.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Oh, the saving power of grace divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which reach’d the dying thief upon the cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had visited that troubled soul of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which else had mourn’d its everlasting loss!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Disrob’d of all his terrors, Death drew nigh,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind, a band of shining seraphs stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pointed toward the opening sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dipt his dart in the atoning blood!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His humble victim felt the stingless wound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to his God resign’d his fleeting breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He view’d Heav’ns portals through the gloom around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shouted “Victory!” in the arms of Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go, blooming youth, and share the rich reward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purchas’d for such as thee with blood divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thank God, He ever did thy prayer regard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And caus’d the light of life on thee to shine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May all the household of thy kindred dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear and regard the caution thou hast given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repent, and turn to God, with hearts sincere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have, like thee, the earnest of their Heaven!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May I amidst a world of toil and care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still bear in mind my Shepherd’s care for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weep o’er my sin, each day for death prepare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh o’er thy name-stamp’d tool, and think on thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="WHO_HATH_BELIEVED_OUR_REPORT" id="WHO_HATH_BELIEVED_OUR_REPORT"></a>“WHO HATH BELIEVED OUR REPORT?”</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Isaiah liii. 1. </p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The agonizing prophet cried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where do the wandering tribes resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For whom the King of Glory died?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His goodness doth before them pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fairest of ten thousand He,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet sin bewilders, and alas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In Him they can no beauty see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His Kingly presence they deny,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While round their altars they resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well might the grieved prophet cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Away with such a one,” they cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Let timbrels sound, and damsels sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This strange impostor crucify,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For none but Csar is our King!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slain in the streets the martyrs lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who strove His kingdom to support,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well might the trembling prophet cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His ministers to make Him known,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their time, and strength, and souls devote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet oft in sorrow cry alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All we like sheep have gone astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From Him we have our faces hid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We each have turn’d to his own way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And done the things that were forbid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His faithful servants all day long,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do to repentance us exhort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet nightly raise the mournful song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was for us He was accused,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sank under sorrows not His own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was buffeted, chastis’d, and bruis’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To raise us rebels to a throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nails, the hammer, and the spear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And reed, with which His head was smote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All cry in the deaf sinner’s ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! both the pulpit and the press,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thunder of His power proclaim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Commend His blood and righteousness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And offer mercy in His name.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet some are always standing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of holy things to make a sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weeping preachers yet may cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“Who hath believed our report?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some have believed this report,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To them He hath “His arm reveal’d;”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Him their lives they now devote,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For “by His stripes their souls are heal’d!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And on the last important day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When all shall be to judgment brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice happy those who then can say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We have believed this report.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But woe to all ungodly men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who wonder how these things can be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ll wonder more, and perish then,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Too late they will their folly see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For them, alas, no joys remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Lord of life will cut them short;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they shall weep and wish in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They had believed our report!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_BEES" id="THE_BEES"></a>THE BEES</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Sun throws his ray on the lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vessels are scudding along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before half the city’s awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The air is all action and song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Bees haste away to the moors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And eager their task to complete,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Extract from the bells of the flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their delicate essences sweet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All cheerful they hurry along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their storehouse of food to increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Death puts an end to their song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The citizen’s table to grace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though few can their weapons withstand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or few can their forces defeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet Death with a torch at command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon makes the wing’d armies retreat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At once their anxiety droops,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the grave they lie silent and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While strangers are draining the cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They made such exertions to fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O may I be bold as the Bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In work of a similar cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So faithful, industrious, and free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And labour, and sing to the last!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="CAUTION_FROM_LIMBER_HILL" id="CAUTION_FROM_LIMBER_HILL"></a>CAUTION FROM LIMBER HILL.</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>Occasioned by a fall during a frost.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">’Twas a bit gone December,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As I well remember,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I met with a rubber, and got some advice;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">What harbour to rest in,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">What Friend to put trust in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how we may walk with slape shoes upon ice!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">In coming down Limber,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Among the young timber,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My foot slipt, and falling, it was a take in,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The night being darkish,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And we a bit larkish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instead of a broom bush, I grasped a whin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">When my fingers were bleeding,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And pain was succeeding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It set me a thinking,—of that you’ll not doubt;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And but for the blunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Which lessen’d the wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I else had been punish’d enough to sing out!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">My views being muddy,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I quickly did study,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What things upon earth to compare with this whin;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">After walking around ’em,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I very soon found ’em<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be a false friend, or the pleasures of sin!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">A true Friend is precious,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">His favour’s delicious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’ll give you a lift, when he sees you break down;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In conflicts distressing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">You’ll find him a blessing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’ll mark your oppressions, and call them his own!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">But a false Friend will vary,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And vow quite contrary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His heart to your grief will be hard as a stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In sorrow or sickness,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He’ll pity your weakness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But only plant under your pillow a thorn!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">While your money is chinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He’ll answer you winking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’ll “<i>Master</i>,” and “<i>Sir</i>” you, and come at your call;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But give him a pincher,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">You’ll find him a flincher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instead of a lift, he will fling you a fall!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">So sin is deceiving,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bewitching, bereaving;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Twill pierce through the heart, and invite you to sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Twill put on fair faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To woo your embraces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But after you’ve grasp’d it, there follows a sting!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_VILLAGE_CHURCH_IN_RUINS" id="THE_VILLAGE_CHURCH_IN_RUINS"></a>THE VILLAGE CHURCH IN RUINS!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>A decayed Church, a faithful Minister, a Gospel Sermon, a +cold wind, a rainy day, and ten hearers!</i>) </p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, for our mother, whom age hath o’ertaken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her champions are sleeping beneath the cold sod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She seems both by lover and friend quite forsaken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her total dependance is now on her God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By tribute to Csar her battlements crumble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her grey headed Elders may weep in despair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her once lovely fabric’s now ready to tumble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While no one arises her breach to repair!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, for the spot where our ancestors bended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In humble devotion, and brotherly love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where early petitions like incense ascended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blessings in answer came down from above.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, for that spot where our tribes did assemble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In youthful succession, both healthy and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which then did the Temple of Zion resemble,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But briers and thorns have now choked up the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The voice of her Elders in prayer seems to falter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her bells ring dolefully over her dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her priest may lament from the porch to the altar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pews are deserted, her virgins are fled.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Among her old timber, the hollow winds whistle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carve out a track for the frost or the snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her walls, while they preach her departing epistle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are cover’d with gloom, both above and below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dim through her old windows the daylight is peeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The damp floor hath driven the hearers away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A drop through the roof seems as if it were weeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think how her beauty is gone to decay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of her milk and her honey she still might have boasted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And offer’d to all in abundance, and free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her funds by the drones are now nearly exhausted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In craftily clipping the wings of the Bee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still thanks be to God, the Gospel is publish’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With precept on precept, and line upon line;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still Ten there are found, who come to be furnish’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heav’nly instruction, in lectures divine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Minister boldly the tidings reported,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wisely distinguish’d the bad from the good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the present or absent who die unconverted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That worm eaten pulpit is clear of their blood!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="POETICAL_REFLECTIONS" id="POETICAL_REFLECTIONS"></a>POETICAL REFLECTIONS.</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>Composed during a visit from the West.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more, my muse, resume thy wonted seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ask permission of the wise and great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To admit, as tribute due, thy warbling song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy own land, and in thy mother tongue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more the happy region I behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I have oft experienc’d joys untold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where cattle graze, and crystal fountains flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rivers glide, and healthy breezes blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here my enraptur’d fancy playful roves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And walks ’mong flowery banks, or shady groves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or nimbly climbs the rugged mountain’s height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And views yon plains with ever new delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes in fertile orchards I attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where mellow fruits the loaded branches bend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes I see old Esk in fury roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fish, or walk, or swim the silent pool.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here did I spend the morning of my days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And learn’d by grace, to walk in wisdom’s ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its scenes can court my soul’s affections yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their charms are such they cannot be forgot.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O yes, the cottage once again I see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which oft has prov’d a safe retreat for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From wintry tempest, or my neighbour’s frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From piercing frost, or scorching sun at noon:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Its walls my castle, and its roof a guard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the cloud the forked lightning glared.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here did I notice first with wond’ring eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rainbow’s beauty, and the bright blue sky;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The morning sun, or the pale evening star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon’s eclipse, or comet’s sign of war!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here oft our little tribe have muster’d up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from each eye have wiped the crystal drop;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each other cheer’d when dark misfortune frown’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we our little fire have circled round!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What each had read, or heard in times before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each eager open’d out his little store;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of fairy stories, stormy seas, or sands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rocks, woods, or caves, or dens in foreign lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enchanted castles, weapons, sceptres, crowns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of friars, giants, hermits, smiles and frowns!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus oft our lonely evenings pass’d away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till glad we welcom’d in the morning ray;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ours might have been the cottage of content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we an absent Father did lament.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now wide dispers’d whom nature so endear’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No evening song, no conversation’s heard!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The garden walls we did so often climb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are desolated by the hand of time!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft on yon sunny bank our feet have been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or skimm’d the frozen pond upon the green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I may wander now, and sigh alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’er pleasures past, and never to return!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Land belov’d! Thou still art dear to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I still behold a comeliness in thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which to express I cannot language find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor vent the deep emotions of my mind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though transient joys have ta’en their lasting flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thee I see a permanent delight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A secret sympathy I can’t express,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which seems to feed the flame of happiness!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But what is best of all, religion thrives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The desert sings, the work of God revives!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold, frozen hearts have felt the melting flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Jesu’s love, and spread abroad the same!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing on, ye tribes, sweet peace ye may secure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your wants supplied from field and fountain pure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live, and enjoy your privilege great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever more forget the mercy seat!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No midnight revels here your door molest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wild confusion robs you of your rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here you in silence may your eyelids close,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On downy pillows find a sweet repose!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here broad back’d mountains raise their heads immense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rocky bulwarks rise for your defence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose silent caves present sublimer charms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the shrill trumpet, or than war’s alarms.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O happy man, who safe from winter’s frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies anchor’d in a harbour of his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He whose chief treasure is a humble mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By truth enlighten’d and by grace refined!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who suffers not his flock to go astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But early learns his tribes to sing and pray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he but little knows of men and things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet having this he needs not envy Kings!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bend, O ye kings! and at God’s altar bow,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your God hath left a brighter throne for you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And costlier robes than yours He laid aside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in your stead, He suffer’d, bled, and died!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be not deceiv’d, ye all must stoop as low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a poor beggar, Jesu’s love to know:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beggar, or the king, that throne to gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must know what’s meant by being “born again!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The number of the faithful, Lord, increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill their habitations with thy peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all may know, e’en husband, child, and wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The benefits of a religious life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O still ride on, thou mighty matchless King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all thy favour feel, and praises sing;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy favour, which alone true joy imparts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is thy law written on thy people’s hearts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By thine omnipotence o’ercome thy foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make them dread thy name, and own thy laws;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O let not sin for ever them deceive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But spare them breath to pray, repent, and live!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O may my scatter’d tribe thy voice attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with thy ransom’d few their voices blend:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I long to see them with their names enroll’d<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among thy people, in thine earthly fold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O God, ’tis thine, I leave the cause with Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give them ears to hear, and eyes to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hearts to feel;—apply the sprinkled blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And purify, and make them sons of God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ties of Friendship cling around my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I from much lov’d scenes am forced to part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave the beauties of my native home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With weary step, far o’er yon hills to roam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O may I gain a seat on Zion’s hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I no more shall bid my friends farewell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor mix with parting tears the morning dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor drop my pen, nor sigh my last adieu!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_TWO_HOURS_TASK" id="THE_TWO_HOURS_TASK"></a>THE TWO HOURS’ TASK!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>A congratulatory Address to the Lambs, on their appearance in +Spring.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Welcome, little peaceful strangers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To your fields and pastures green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fearless of surrounding dangers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since no dangers you have seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While the sun is on you beaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you may new strength receive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet new milk is for you streaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you may partake and live.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spring, with all her charms, invites you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now to taste the tender blade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Birds are singing to delight you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whether in the sun or shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nature has with gladness crown’d you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Woodlands echo at your birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreads a flowery carpet round you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bids you walk in freedom forth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But beware of your destroyer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Crafty Reynard stalks the plains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your shepherd cleave then closer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or he’ll drain your little veins.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In your merry evening gambols,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of surrounding foes beware,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Also in your distant rambles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See you wander not too far.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fell destruction round you hovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Therefore caution don’t despise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Croaking ravens wait in numbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pick out your little eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go not forth without your shepherd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be not lifted up with pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if peaceful you would slumber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You must never leave his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till your strength is perfected,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Keep within your master’s ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall never be neglected,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If you thus are faithful found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See yon lamb that now is bleating,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Him misfortune calls its own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mark’d out an early victim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the flock he strays alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See the little lonely mourner,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a bull-rush hangs his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeks a solitary corner,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And refuses to be fed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life to him appears a burden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This his wailings testify,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth no pleasures can afford him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He will shortly droop and die.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere he drink the crystal fountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere he dance the flowery plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere he bleat on yonder mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He returns to earth again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Emblem of that happy infant<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which was born the other day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before it knew bereavement,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the earth was call’d away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Call’d to more delightful regions,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ere he learn’d his mother tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There to speak a purer language,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There to sing a sweeter song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On his Lord to wait attendant,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to sing redeeming love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seated on a throne resplendent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In a brighter world above.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cheerful lambs around us caper,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Woodland songsters hail the morn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But frail man is doom’d to labour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weep, and sweat, and sigh, and mourn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet there is a higher station,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Man is born for nobler joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he seeks and finds salvation,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shall sing above the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though he be a fallen creature,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Subject here to droop and die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The “Lamb of God” can change his nature,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And take all his sins away!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_COUNTRY_BLUNDER" id="THE_COUNTRY_BLUNDER"></a>THE COUNTRY BLUNDER!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some lines which I have lately penn’d<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May prove a caution to a friend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indeed as such they are intended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to my friends are recommended.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But some, though caution’d night and morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will not take heed, howe’er we warn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still to make their neighbours fun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will obstinately blunder on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A servant man in Glazedale glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did lately shoot a fine pea-hen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taking her for a pheasant good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lately stray’d from the neighb’ring wood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But had he studied well the season,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He might have found sufficient reason,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have convinc’d him, there and then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Twas neither pheasant, cock nor hen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For is it common thus to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where there is neither bush nor tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pheasant pick, in open day?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much more upon the King’s highway?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To view her well he did not fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her rosy comb, and fine long tail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And call’d her without more ado,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pheasant,—and a fine one too!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But beast, or bird, it makes no matter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He takes his gun and jingles at her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ere that bird his mercy begs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She tumbles down, with broken legs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He then did speedily run out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twin’d her slender neck about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pleasure sparkling in his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking he’d got a famous prize!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But one whose senses were awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did soon point out his sad mistake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His countenance did alter, when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found it was a fine <i>pea-hen</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He thought his neighbours then would scoff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And poets soon would take him off;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too late he wish’d and strove in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bring his hen to life again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye poachers all, both young and old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you don’t think my pen too bold;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or may I say, kind gentlemen,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take warning by this same pea-hen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mind well what creatures you abuse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They all were given by God for use:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest you should make your neighbours fun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look well before you point your gun!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or you by chance may shoot a horse;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other’s bad,—this would be worse:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet such a thing was lately done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by a badly managed gun!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thorns or thistles, stones or whins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May prick your legs, or break your shins;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet those who’d buy instruction cheap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should always “look before they leap!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If still my counsel you disdain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may hereafter write again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And should you not mind what you do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may inform of some of you!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="A_SINNER_SAVED_BY_GRACE" id="A_SINNER_SAVED_BY_GRACE"></a>A SINNER SAVED BY GRACE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, fellow sinner, lend an ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listen while I now declare<br /></span> +<span class="i6">What God hath done for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His word hath broke my stony heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul hath felt the piercing smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of guilt and misery!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long time I went about distress’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor day nor night could I find rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till I his voice did hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I beheld Him on the Cross;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul did then her burden lose,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And all its slavish fear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To Him who doth my foes controul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I look’d and He hath heal’d my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And all my sins forgiven:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence may I turn my feeble sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To yonder realms of peace and light,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And live and die for Heaven!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh hasten, sinners, to be wise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Jesu’s mercy loudly cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Do you salvation take;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if you’re stubborn to the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then be assur’d you will be cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Into the burning lake!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say you, “Where shall we find the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">According to his Holy Word,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To heal our wounded mind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While some say here, and others there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We long to see the temple where<br /></span> +<span class="i6">We may salvation find!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherever two or three are met,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose faces Zion ward are set,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He’s promis’d there to be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O seek the Lord without delay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cry for mercy night and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till you’re from sin set free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When you by grace are born again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then publish to the sons of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That you this path have trod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That others may for mercy cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saints may lift their voices high,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And glorify their God!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_PORTION_OF_THE_JUST" id="THE_PORTION_OF_THE_JUST"></a>THE PORTION OF THE JUST.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How blessed a thing Hallelujah to sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When time shall with us be no more:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the Judge’s right hand all the faithful shall stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His goodness to see and adore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In that heavenly place in the light of his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They in mansions of glory shall dwell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the big tear on their face shall appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For to sorrow they’ve bid a Farewell!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Above and below rich clusters do grow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of the grapes of that Canaan so pure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His welcome so sweet makes the banquet complete,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And they sing of His mercy secure!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Death vanquish’d, they sing, and spoil’d of his sting,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of Hell conquer’d by Christ from above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the plains of delight with thousands in white,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They shall walk and converse of His love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the wicked, alas, when their sentence shall pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall at once into darkness be driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce pains to endure with spirits impure,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who were hurl’d from their places in heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, if thou dost crave above all things to have<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A seat with thy Saviour divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer delay, nor rest night nor day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till a scriptural title is thine!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_HAPPY_CHOICE" id="THE_HAPPY_CHOICE"></a>THE HAPPY CHOICE!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jesus! thy name to me hath charms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Outvieing all beneath the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy secret love my bosom warms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in my soul ’tis heav’n begun!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No peace like that thy presence brings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No joys like those thou dost impart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anon, with healing in thy wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou com’st to heal the broken heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy footsteps may I always see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under thy shadow may I dwell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I give my life, my all to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And triumph o’er the powers of Hell!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou dost my soul with rapture fill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No more for mammon I contend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I glory in the joys I feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While thou dost comfort and defend!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O let thy name be always sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As honey, from the rock, that flows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shall I gladly turn my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where’er my blessed Master goes!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="ON_THE_DEATH_OF_JOHN_MORLEY" id="ON_THE_DEATH_OF_JOHN_MORLEY"></a>ON THE DEATH OF JOHN MORLEY.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Heard you that groan? ’Twas from a dying man!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A man just gone into Eternity!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Redeem thy time! Thy life is but a span!”<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That language,—Hark! It speaks to you and me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A man of health, and strength, and spirits gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The solemn call seem’d distant to his view;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, lo, how soon the victim’s snatch’d away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By Death’s rude hand, and bids the world adieu!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fearless of danger, he, twelve days before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went to the field to share the common lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the sharp scythe to cut the grass or flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, ah, the secret lesson he forgot!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“<i>All flesh</i> is grass, or like the flowery field,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So soon ’tis faded, wither’d, or cut down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To time’s embrace its charms are forc’d to yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The winds pass over it, and it is gone!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When heated by the sun’s meridian ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And parch’d with thirst, to drink he felt inclin’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropping his scythe, poor Morley took his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In hopes some cool, refreshing stream to find!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To yonder river to receive his death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With sweat, like dewdrops, hanging on his brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hastes—nor thinks he must resign his breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to the lonely church-yard shortly go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus bathed in sweat the river’s bank he gains,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drinks, and washes in the crystal flood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lo! an icy coldness chills his veins,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Affects his senses, and inflames his blood!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He medical assistance quickly sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Excessive pain depriv’d his eyes of sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Physicians soon their powerful medicines brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ah! the fatal dart had pierc’d too deep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fever rages, not a limb is free,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It mocks the power of remedies applied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Friends weep, and wish for his recovery;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! their warmest wishes are denied.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His fate seems hard, but yet Heav’n sees it fit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Heaven’s will is best, we must agree;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sooner or later we must all submit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Death’s loud call,—to nature’s stern decree!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The surgeon blushes while his patient bleeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All hope soon vanishes of life below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hasty step the monster Death proceeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lifts his fell dart, and strikes the fatal blow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His wife distracted doth her loss deplore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His children weep as though their hearts would break;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shrieking cry, “Our father is no more!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O where shall we our lonely refuge seek?<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where shall we find so true, so kind a friend?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where shall we find a sharer in our grief?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where shall we find a Father to attend,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wipe our tears, or point us to relief?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O haste! O haste! the house of prayer attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And plead your cause, bow’d at your Saviour’s feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Heaven daily let your prayers ascend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there a Friend, and Father you shall meet!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor Morley’s dead! the startled village cries!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His wife, a widow, has in tears to grieve!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While he, outstretched, now pale and silent lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor tongue, nor eye, nor hand a motion give!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more his whistle echo’s through the grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor clashing gates pursue his loaded steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more he through the fields doth rove,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To play the flute, or blow the rustic reed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more the rolling flood’s at his controul,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor willing servant runs when he shall bid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mournfully I hear the death bell toll,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hail him welcome to his lonely bed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Oh, the soul! That ever during spark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kindled in him by the Almighty’s breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still lives, though we her passage cannot mark!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She lives, though she hath pass’d the vale of death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where has she fled? What is her portion now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While I upon his death thus meditate?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis mystery this we mortals must not know,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cries, “Prepare ye, for a future state!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her portion’s that for which she was prepar’d;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though suddenly remov’d from earth below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more can she reject her just reward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She shares eternal happiness, or woe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To trace her flight might but insult her King,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since He for guilty sinners once did bleed!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The muse in silence drops her feeble wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Refusing any further to proceed!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_SERVANTS_ADDRESS_TO_HIS_MASTER" id="THE_SERVANTS_ADDRESS_TO_HIS_MASTER"></a>THE SERVANT’S ADDRESS TO HIS MASTER;</h2> + +<p class="smaller center"><i>On deriding him for becoming a Methodist!</i></p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Master, I beg you’ll pardon, while I speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liberty I now presume to take;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trust the brief apology you’ll hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will please, if you will please to lend an ear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Wilt thou forsake the Church?” did you not say?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“And strive to get to Heaven some nearer way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A better way perhaps by you believ’d:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ’twill be well if you are not deceiv’d?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deceiv’d, or not, we are resolv’d to go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Christ be with us, all is well we know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is our Leader, He marks out the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inviting all to come, and none to stay!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Church, or doctrine, we’ve no cause to blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis to ourselves that we ascribe the shame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The way to heav’n was certainly made plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When told to “run so that we might obtain.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our prayers and praises were so faint and few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We thought one day in seven would surely do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To praise Him who is worthy of more praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than our best powers are qualified to raise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft when we did approach the throne of grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hearts and thoughts were in some other place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O shameful truth! And yet it is most true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But conscience told us this would never do!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The nearest way to Heaven that we can go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is cleaving close to Christ while here below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis He that can our sinking footsteps stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vain the man who seeks another way!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The man who truly has this race begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will see no time to stand, but strive to run;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night is coming, and will soon be here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He’ll therefore oft betake himself to prayer:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lest strength should fail, or he should grow luke-warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his weak soul, the enemy disarm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Book declares, whose Author is “The Truth,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The careless soul, “He’ll spew out of his mouth!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hence, doth he see he must be cold or hot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must either have the Spirit of Christ, or not:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on examination he lacks this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God’s Book declares that “he is none of His!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If not a child of God, a child of hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dying thus, he must with devils dwell;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when his earthly hopes have taken flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be then shut up in everlasting night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A sinner when he sees himself aright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees that his brightest day is turned to night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The things that once were his delight and joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do all his fondest hopes at once destroy!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God’s Book like Sinai’s mount to him appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its sentences like thunder stun his ears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He strives to soothe himself, but strives in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till God, to him the secret doth explain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sees and feels the awful load of sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can aught ease the grief that he is in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until he hears God’s cheering, still small voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which calms his fears, and bids his soul rejoice!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A man must know his sins on earth forgiven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or he’ll not read his title clear for Heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this you think too strong to be believ’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’m sure, in death, that you will be deceiv’d!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am resolv’d a pilgrim now to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let worldly men say what they will of me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the grace of God, though Hell resist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ll live and die a faithful Methodist!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I see the pilgrim’s life is far the best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scorn’d by the world, but yet by Jesus blest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When death shall come, the Heav’nly land in view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peace, I’ll bid this world of sin Adieu!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="SABBATH_MORNING_MUSINGS" id="SABBATH_MORNING_MUSINGS"></a>SABBATH MORNING MUSINGS.</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">“<i>I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house +of the Lord.</i>” Psalm. cxxii. 1.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How do I love thy courts, O Lord!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What glories they unfold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joys they do to me afford,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">More precious are than gold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The very gates through which I pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are beautiful to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What numbers here beneath the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In silent slumber lie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While I approach this solemn ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My thoughts I will controul;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tolling bell, with mournful sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Affects my inmost soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While musing o’er the silent dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What wonders do I see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very dust on which I tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Once liv’d, and mov’d like me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here things mysterious I perceive,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Things which I can’t explain;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wak’d by that voice which Heav’n shall give,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">This dust shall “rise again!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then some to everlasting life,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Exultingly shall rise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While some to everlasting death,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall go with weeping eyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such as we sow, that shall we reap;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The sowing time is now:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O may I watch, and faithful, keep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My station at the plough!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O what’s this world with all its joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But a delusive dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dead, as speaking witnesses,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All testify the same.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They preach in lectures loud and plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though silent, cold, and deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tell me, if the earth remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I soon like them shall sleep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They cry to all, “Repent, believe,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And you shall pardon’d be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless that blessing you receive,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You’re lost eternally!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dial faithful to its task,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The sun in yonder sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both show to us without a mask,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How swift the moments fly!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Redeem thy time!” they seem to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">“Thy life is but a span;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what are three score years and ten?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And that’s the age of man!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here on a level all are laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Here none the conquest have!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The robes that once the rich array’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are tarnish’d by the grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cheek which blossom’d like the rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Has lost its lovely charms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That beauteous form the lover chose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is clasp’d in Death’s cold arms.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All earthly hopes, and earthly joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And prospects must decay;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they who serve their God aright,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall live in endless day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How wondrously the scene is chang’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How lovely they appear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I view them in their state arrang’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With more delight than fear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! once the scene was not so fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I scarce could read a stone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But grace can conquer slavish fear,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With joy I look thereon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The opening grave oft spoil’d the hinge,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On which my fancy play’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The skulls and bones would make me cringe,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While I their forms survey’d.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Chill horror used to haunt my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While sin therein remain’d;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Jesu’s name be ever blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I have his favour gain’d!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Tis faith perfumes destruction’s breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our Jesu’s strong to save;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis faith removes the sting of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The terrors of the grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How oft have I in giddy maze,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">This sacred passage trod!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not thinking ’twas so pure a place,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Much less the house of God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His mercy doth preserve me still,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He doth not always chide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But waits that all His love may feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Since he for all hath died.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behind some lofty pillar here,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In silence let me steal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tread His courts with humble fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And low before him kneel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With fearful, trembling, broken heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To him I lift mine eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wait till He his love impart,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And conscience bid me rise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then will I praise Thee, O my God,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When in my heart it glows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gladly wait to hear thy Word,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And catch it as it flows!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then may I keep thy sabbaths pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And still thy house attend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until that sabbath shall commence,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which never hath an end!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="LINES_ON_LEAVING_FRYUP_IN_SEARCH_OF_WORK" id="LINES_ON_LEAVING_FRYUP_IN_SEARCH_OF_WORK"></a>LINES ON LEAVING FRYUP, IN SEARCH OF WORK.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I’m sorry, Fryup! thee to leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou deniest what I crave,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Though I have ask’d with tears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft have I drunk at thy pure rills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And labour’d ’mongst thy moorland hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">For many toilsome years!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Twas oft to me a painful task,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine aid in time of need to ask,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">So often sought before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many times my small demand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was torn, as with a trembling hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Reluctant from thy store!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft have I rang’d thy verdant woods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where roses bursting from their buds,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Have struck my wondering eye!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft have I thy woodbines cropt:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from my hand the sweet flowers dropt,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I’ve thought,—I too must die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, with each morning’s early dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lov’d to walk the flowery lawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To hear thy warblers sing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or when at eve their songs were mute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ve sooth’d my fancy with my flute,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And made thy woodlands ring!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I’ve seen thy mountains clad with snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While shelter’d in the vale below,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Midst hospitable friends!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all their kindnesses to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May Heav’n bless every family,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And make them full amends!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But trade is now so dull and dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man can hardly earn his bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In winter’s frost and snow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So I must take my staff in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And travel to some distant land,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till here more plenty grow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I grieve to leave the Sunday School,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I with gratitude of soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Have taught with great delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youthful, rising sons of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To steer safe past the gulf of sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By glorious gospel light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With men of understanding heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I always joy’d to act my part,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Where I may teach no more:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I, myself have oft been taught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blessings gain’d beyond my thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">From Heaven’s bounteous store!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As when the sailor points the keel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ancient Greenland’s icy field,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">So I my course must steer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I need assistance at the helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest life’s rough sea should overwhelm<br /></span> +<span class="i6">My soul,—no harbour near!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For quicksands and contrary winds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And enemies as well as friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I still expect to find:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a Friend who lives above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all who do His precepts love,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He proves both true and kind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To Him I will address my prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My little bark unto His care,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">With confidence I’ll trust!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A steady course, O may I steer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if to Him I prove sincere,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He’ll land me safe at last!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_SWALLOW" id="THE_SWALLOW"></a>THE SWALLOW!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>On being deprived of her nest by some Sparrows.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Swallow one evening was sweeping along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Mongst such as against her were spiteful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An impudent Sparrow requested a song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Affirming her voice was delightful!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The innocent Swallow consented,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But afterwards sadly repented;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the nest she had been at such pains to erect,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">She was soon from enjoying prevented!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To the ridge of the barn they hurried along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As fast as their feathers could speed them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where she tweedled and sung, in her African tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her favourite anthem on Freedom!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +<span class="i6">While she was this Sparrow amusing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The rest were her labours abusing;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They had taken possession both of garret and floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And were in her best chamber carousing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the Sparrow beheld by the flood in her eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How much this bad treatment did grieve her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With contempt in his manner he bade her good by<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor pitied, nor tried to relieve her!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Still her sweet little song did not alter,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Her delicate voice did not falter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she tweedled and sung what was next to be done,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As though she alone was the faulter!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reproving the Sparrows she then seem’d to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">“To you we are surely no strangers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pay you this visit, in crossing the sea,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We encounter a great many dangers.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O Sparrows! why have you betray’d us?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">’Tis cruelty thus to invade us!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We bring summer with us, take nothing away,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O Sparrows! why have you betray’d us?”<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="A_CALL_TO_THE_CARELESS" id="A_CALL_TO_THE_CARELESS"></a>A CALL TO THE CARELESS!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Awake! O ye sleepers, awake!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or soon you will smart ’neath the rod!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be thankful you’re not in the lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That burns with the anger of God!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your life as a vapour will prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Your days as a shadow will flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then seek to have treasure above,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And struggle from sin to be free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sinners! be honest and yield<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the Spirit of God when He strives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or you will be slain in the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When He with His army arrives!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This Jesus shall conquer the world!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The proud and the lofty subdue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With terrible banners unfurl’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall sift both believers and you:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The poor, not because he is poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor the rich for his riches regard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thoroughly purging His floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Appoint unto each his reward!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Believers! who wish to be whole;—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A fountain long open hath been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wash out the spots of the soul,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O hasten to wash and be clean!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When sin shall experience its death,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then you the grand secret shall know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall Heaven enjoy upon Earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And be happy and useful below!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TO_A_HORSE_DYING_ALONE" id="TO_A_HORSE_DYING_ALONE"></a>TO A HORSE, DYING ALONE!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor, hapless beast, thus left by all below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amongst the noblest of God’s creatures, thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Once free from pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Didst trip the plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Oh! how much thy case is alter’d now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy groom and master seem to stand aloof!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it, because of thee they’ve had enough?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Is it respect,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Or sheer neglect,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That of their care thou hast no stronger proof?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perhaps they do not like to hear or see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy last deep groan, thy dying agony!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The grass upspurn’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thine eye upturn’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bespeak its weight to heedless passers by!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That hoarse deep sigh, the sad effect of sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaims the depth of agony within!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">On man and beast,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Greatest and least,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim Death doth feed, and glad his victim win!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The blue shade gathers on thy glassy eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sternly fix’d upon the evening sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Once full of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Through darkest night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It proved its master’s guide to home and family!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy lovely form, once beauteous to behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which thy master parted with his gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And this thy dappled hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Though once its owner’s pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now for a thing of nought will soon be sold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That ear through which the slightest sound inspir’d<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vigour, when pressing business oft requir’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Already cold as clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Doth now inactive lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor startles at that gun which now is fired!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy frolics and thy gambols now are past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy last stage is run;—thou art dying fast:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Perhaps ere I,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">At home shall be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou unattended wilt have breath’d thy last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stall is vacant where thou lov’dst to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curb and saddle now are nought to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The whip and spur,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thou car’st not for,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But leav’st to others as thy legacy!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While I string up my rhymes to make them chord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus thy melancholy fate record,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Perhaps near thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In some old tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lonely night bird sings thy funeral ode!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="large center gap2">MORAL.</p> + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some while their cup is full can laugh at Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And light esteem that power which lends them breath;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +<span class="i8">But be that far,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">As yon pale star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From him who now its progress witnesseth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did men but see how near is his approach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They would with morning sun, or nightly torch,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Themselves prepare,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And search with care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strictly watch each avenue and porch!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor would they rest, at business or in bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till every foe was found, and captive led;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Till all the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">From stains most foul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was wash’d, or till the contrite tear was shed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A fountain from the mount of God doth flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all who will take time and pains to go,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whose healing stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Doth freely teem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wash polluted sinners white as snow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A soul thus wash’d shall joyful rise again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Death unscar’d, and on angelic wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Shall mount above,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To Him whose love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And power deprive the monster of his sting!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="MUSINGS_DURING_AFFLICTION" id="MUSINGS_DURING_AFFLICTION"></a>MUSINGS DURING AFFLICTION;</h2> + +<p class="large center"><b>OR</b></p> + +<p class="large center"><b>THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS.</b></p> + +<p class="smaller center">“<i>He shall fly away as a dream.</i>” (Job. xx. 8.)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While here I sit musing alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not sharing the toils of the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My spirit doth inwardly groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">At the symptoms I feel of decay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My care burden’d mind can’t be still,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though the external fabric be maim’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some part must be working the will<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of Him who that fabric hath framed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The merchant looks over his books,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And hopes well to finish the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So life hath some corners and nooks,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It might not be wrong to survey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the morning of life we behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When all seems delightful and bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rosebud doth scarcely unfold,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But ’tis gone as a dream of the night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If to youth our attention we turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When all is enchanting and free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When very few know how to mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And all things seem pleasant and gay.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A something we sought in the fields,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Alas! as oft sought it in vain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joys that such scenery yields,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are such as we cannot retain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We sought in the meadows and groves,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the woods, by the rivers and streams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all our vain hopes and our loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Were like wood to the furnace’s flames!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The old pathway still puts us in mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though its stones are forsaken and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of youthful affections, so kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though now scarce a vestige is seen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We long have been wandering abroad,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And have learn’d to sorrow and weep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While some have been lost on the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And others have sunk in the deep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the fire-side circle we sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But found by the glimmering light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soon as the shadows we caught;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They fled like a dream of the night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were some whom we knew in the flesh,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Seem’d happy, and healthy, and strong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before they obtain’d their wish,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They, alas! in a moment were gone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Twas gloomy and dark at their end,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No light in their death did appear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That happiness would them attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was hoped—but hope turn’d to despair!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! how neglectful they lived,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How sad an example they set,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many fair youths were deceiv’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who are not yet free from the net!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They surely had time to repent,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To weep, and to sorrow, and pray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But time that should thus have been spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was wantonly squander’d away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They quick were cut off at a stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Were hurried away from our sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bonds of their friendship all broke,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They fled like a dream of the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though long in the grave they have lain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And long since have gone to decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remembrance can raise them again,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As fresh as they were in life’s day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We remember the look of the face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The language that glanc’d from the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cough, or the laugh, or some grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By which we their forms can descry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How short our acquaintance appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our pleasures, how swift was their flight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before we could number their years,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They fled as a dream of the night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In manhood we sought it abroad,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And mix’d with the mirthful and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When liberty lengthen’d the cord,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And tempted our feet far astray.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then away to the races and fairs,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When seasons and friends did invite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the shows, to the stalls, and their wares,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And to music and dancing at night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We sought it by land and by sea,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where’er we directed our eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All said, “Pleasure is not in me!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My beauty is all a disguise!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Happiness! where dost thou dwell?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O where shall we search with success?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the court to the cottage or cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All seem the abodes of distress!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft have we reflected with pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And fancied while counting the cost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If restor’d to childhood again,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We’d recover the thing we had lost.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then happiness seem’d to be ours,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We roved by the river or glen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birds, and the bushes, and flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Appear’d as a paradise then!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yon hill, and the stone on the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Remind us whenever we pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where we in a fairy-like train,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Have scamper’d about on the grass!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gone by are our childhood and youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And gone is each transient delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They told us,—who told us the truth,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They’d pass as a dream of the night.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the faithful discourse of a friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We were told, whether cloudy or bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This life, long or short, in the end,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Would depart as a dream of the night:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That in vain among shadows and flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We sought satisfaction within;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True pleasure could never be ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till the heart had been broken for sin<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The heart, until such was the case,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was so puff’d up with pride and deceit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That no matter how splendid the feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That root bitter’d every thing sweet!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He would prove by the sacred page,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And by men of experience too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It had been so in every age,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And continues so, even till now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until sin was expos’d to the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the glass of the Gospel was view’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We could not enjoy true delight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till the heart had been chang’d and renew’d.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor need we now ask any more,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why a thing which so many pursue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to gain will all things explore,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Should be truly possess’d by so few.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In all earth’s extensive domain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">’Midst all the sweet breezes that blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mountain, or forest, or plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where Eden like luxuries grow;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amid all the fair branches and free,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Inviting their clusters to share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One tree, and only one tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">This heav’nly manna will bear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That tree of celestial seed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By heav’nly culture doth rise;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That man from his sins might be freed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">’Twas sent as a gift from the skies!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But many the tree did deride,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And oft of its fruit did complain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since to gain it they often had tried,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But return’d to their folly again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They made it a matter of doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That it had been planted for them:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repentance, and Faith were the root,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Holiness grew on the stem!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some as they pass’d by gave a glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Made remark on the wilderness bare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And affirm’d with eye all askance,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No semblance of beauty was there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though to plant it the Saviour of men<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hath sorrow’d, and suffer’d, and bled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And His Spirit pour’d out as a stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hath His heav’nly influence shed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You see, when the secret is told,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the riddle’s expounded to all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was planted in Eden of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But had been torn up by the fall!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So Christ hath in love to His church,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thus rear’d this plant of renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To screen when the sun’s rays might scorch,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And to cheer when our spirits are down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whoe’er of its produce partakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whatever objections arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the Cross, and the choice that he makes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall be holy, and happy, and wise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then we to His temple shall run,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And worship with joy and delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our trials while under the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will pass as a dream of the night!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_PLAY" id="THE_PLAY"></a>THE PLAY!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">On being solicited to attend a Theatre, by two young women, who +urged their entreaties by the argument, “There is no harm in +attending the Play!”</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye daughters of Albion’s flourishing isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come listen awhile to my lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defending your morals, you say with a smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">“There’s no harm in attending the Play!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye Theatre gallants, and deep witted men,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose counsels so many obey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come lend a poor ignorant rustic a pen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And he’ll help you to plead for the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If you are not immortal, but end when you die,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As some have the courage to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why need you look out for a mansion on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You’ve nothing to fear from the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If you are immortal, yet free from the fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And never have wander’d astray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you have no sin to repent of at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You’ve nothing to fear from the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If Christ in His word, has left no command,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For people to watch and to pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If an house cannot fall that is built on the sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There’s no harm in attending the Play!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not calling in question your baptismal vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">If life’s like a long summer’s day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you have not to reap such fruit as ye sow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There’s no harm in attending the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the Christian’s creed from the truth be reverse,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the fair crown of life can decay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the Bible be false, and Religion a farce,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There’s no harm in attending the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Should a visit from Death come and put you in mind<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of your frail habitation of clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may try to obstruct the unwelcome design,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With the transient delights of the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If a faithful reproof you should happen to meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You can soon turn your faces away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pass by the blind and the lame in the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And carry your cash to the Play!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But if Parsons themselves so often attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then surely their followers may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no wonder that they so well can defend,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The moral effects of the Play.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If Wesley and Whitfield have pleaded in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And led their disciples astray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Simpson and Hervey in silence remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You’ve nothing to fear from the Play.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If you of your time have to give no account,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">At the last, the great Judgment day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The troubles of life you may quickly surmount,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By clapping them off at the Play.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If safe ’midst seduction and ruin you roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You may laugh at the stoppers away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sit pining and pulling long faces at home,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And are missing the joys of the Play.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Should the roof be crush’d in, and you kill’d we’ll suppose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why some angel would bear you away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To some distant region of milder repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where your spirit might dream of the Play.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Having no tribulation, no robe wash’d in blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor tears that need wiping away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You might sing in those realms to the praise of your god,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How oft you had been at the Play.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_REMOTE_CHRISTIAN" id="THE_REMOTE_CHRISTIAN"></a>THE REMOTE CHRISTIAN.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deep in a glen, remote and wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And far from affluence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cottage stood, and heaven smil’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Upon that residence.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A couple liv’d there many years,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In love and unity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who careful in this vale of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Had rear’d a family.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No costly goods their cot adorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No shining liveries wait;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For them no huntsman sounds his horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No carriage at the gate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A simple, honest peasant, free,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not with much learning stored;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though thus remote, yet happily,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Had sought and found the Lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where neither moth nor rust can harm,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor thieves can ere invade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the reach of human arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was his heart’s treasure laid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around his farm, or in his field,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The moor birds hatch’d and fed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when at work, the lapwing cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And flutter’d o’er his head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus his little field he drain’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or temper’d the wild sod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His household too with care were train’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To love and fear their God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The field, the garden, and the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For him their produce bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His table too, the bee supplied,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From her delicious store.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Lord who thus his substance blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Did all his wants supply;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pleasantly to quench his thirst,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A brook ran murmuring by.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw him on his dying bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When strength began to fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw him lift his languid head,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And heard his happy tale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He then began to bless the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His sins had been made known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he began to weep and pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And look’d to Christ alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He bless’d that Book his heart had cheer’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And tried its worth to tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bles’d that Blood which once was shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To save his soul from hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! Christ to him was precious then,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His company was sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, His love was in his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The world beneath his feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This, when the monster Death arriv’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Did solid comfort bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blood he felt had quite depriv’d<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The monster of his sting.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“This body chang’d, shall soon,” said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">“With saints and angels join,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sing to all eternity,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The depths of Love Divine!”<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="SOLITARY_REFLECTIONS" id="SOLITARY_REFLECTIONS"></a>SOLITARY REFLECTIONS!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>Occasioned by the death of a newly married pair, who drowned +themselves, after living together three weeks.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Esk’s old bank the watery willows weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where wife and husband launch’d into the deep;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from their cottage sought an early grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To end their jarring, in the peaceful wave<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, hapless pair! who can withhold the tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he the melancholy place draws near!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dire event to future times will prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The short enjoyment of your wedded love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How apt are earthly prospects to deceive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave her disappointed sons to grieve!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How oft will trifling things the mind perplex,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where grace doth not her influences mix!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The morning shines,—to church they haste away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And noisy guns proclaim the wedding day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within three weeks to the dark grave they’re borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To slumber till the Resurrection morn!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around, the neighbours mourn their hapless lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weeping children haunt the dreary spot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lippering wave, rais’d by the nightly gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tells to the Moon her melancholy tale!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="ON_SOME_WHO_HAD_LEFT_US_AND_SPOKEN_DISRESPECTFULLY_OF_US" id="ON_SOME_WHO_HAD_LEFT_US_AND_SPOKEN_DISRESPECTFULLY_OF_US"></a>ON SOME WHO HAD LEFT US, AND SPOKEN DISRESPECTFULLY OF US!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">“<i>There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and +yet is not washed from their filthiness.</i>” (Proverbs xxx. 12.)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! once they met with us, and gave us the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Uniting to sing and to pray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But long could not bear the rigid command,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So off they went lilting away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forsaking the vulgar, whom now they despise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For doctrines more learned and pure;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This doctrine they could not endure!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our faults and our failings expose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because this perfection they cannot attain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ll plead for their muffs and their boas!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ll laugh at a sinner in tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their prayers are lock’d up in their finely bound books,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While they’re trimming their necks and their ears!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The new birth’s convulsions they cannot have felt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or they dare not speak as they do;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their heart is too proud into nothing to melt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And must, while to mammon they bow.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whenever their dwelling you chance to approach,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of their soft invitation beware;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pharisee’s leaven, the good man’s reproach,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the seat of the scorner are there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To folks of high breeding they offer their pledge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Gainst others to raise a complaint;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’ll skim on the surface, and trim off the edge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pass for a dignified saint!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The God of Elijah who sees through the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These specious impostors will spurn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And send them in spite of their cunning and art,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where they will eternally mourn!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THERE_IS_A_GOD" id="THERE_IS_A_GOD"></a>THERE IS A GOD!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">“<i>The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.</i>” (Psalm +xiv. 1)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a God who rules above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man’s the object of His love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Jesus, His beloved Son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath bled, and died to make this known.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though man his attributes deny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And utter daring blasphemy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall be conquer’d from above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Justice, Judgment, or by Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though he be lusty now, and strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bold in ribaldry and song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A time will come when he must flit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to a stronger arm submit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Death will disregard his groans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And time will melt his giant bones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If no contrition he shall feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sins will sink him into hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While there he drinks the bitter cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dust shall lick his marrow up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tongue within the grave shall rot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While name and memory are forgot.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On that dread morn when all shall rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The righteous whom he did despise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall over him dominion have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the terrors of the grave.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="CONFIRMATION" id="CONFIRMATION"></a>CONFIRMATION.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stars recede, the morn appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So long anticipated!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The air which now the spirit cheers,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With shouts is agitated!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rustics full of mirth and glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are big with expectation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of what they are to hear and see,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When they’re at Confirmation!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The road is fill’d from side to side,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With bonny lads and lasses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With country bloom, and village pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gigs, horses, mules, and asses!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With whip and spur, they dash along,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As though to fair or races;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With artificial feathers hung,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And veils before their faces!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But few know what they’re going to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or they are strangely lied on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’re careless of the solemn vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As is the steed they ride on!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They go, because their neighbours go,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Without consideration;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think all pass for Christians, who<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are pass’d at Confirmation!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A few there are, but few we fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their faith by works expressing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft in private on their knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They wrestle for a blessing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The greater part of them by far,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will carry a Cain’s offering;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They’re strangers to the morning star,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To royal David’s offspring!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A hope they have, but cannot tell<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On what that hope is grounded;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus like some old Egyptian spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It cannot be expounded!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The carnal mind still bears the sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For want of resolution;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scatter’d tribes, still day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Profane the institution!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In spite of lectures orthodox,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of Bishops, prayers, and caution,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, greedy as the thirsty ox,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Drink in the deadly potion!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The scribes may write with mournful pen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Church’s lamentation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While year by year, they seek in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The fruits of Confirmation!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_MAN_OF_THE_WORLD" id="THE_MAN_OF_THE_WORLD"></a>THE MAN OF THE WORLD!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From a boy much indulg’d, he grew up to a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And had liberty almost unbounded;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor scarce ever thought of this life’s little span,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With prospects of plenty surrounded!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His steed, like himself, in high spirits he views,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As it snuffs at the fresh flowing fountain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which oft at daybreak he brushes the dews,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And gallops o’er valley and mountain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His cheek round and fat, wears the hue of the rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He seems quite a stranger to sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while on his sofa his limbs find repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He laughs loudly, and talks of to-morrow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“To-morrow,” says he, “you must call up the hounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As soon as the light is appearing!”—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not thinking that Death while rambling his rounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To his mansion a message is bearing,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“To-morrow,” says he, “we’ll unkennel the fox,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or in his old cabin we’ll crush him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or when we have got him away from the rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In spite of Old Harry we’ll brush him!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then we will dine on the lamb or the goose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which, if he had liv’d would have fill’d him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then o’er a full bumper we’ll have a carouse,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And we’ll sing where he fell, and who kill’d him!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But ah! when life’s stern disappointment he meets,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Like a lion imprison’d he grieves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he who expected so much of life’s sweets,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So soon of its bitters receives!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Disease o’er his fortified barriers leaps,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And with internal pain soon afflicts him;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next into his chamber the pale monster creeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And singles him out as his victim!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like a leaf that in autumn falls dead from the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Soon a train is seen weeping behind him:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A visit I made, his improvements to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And I look’d, but alas, could not find him!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_RULE_OF_CONTRARY" id="THE_RULE_OF_CONTRARY"></a>THE RULE OF CONTRARY!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some men have Rules so incorrect,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They almost always vary;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some make Rules to gain respect,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But I’m for one contrary!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some strive to gain the smiles of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But I prefer their frown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torrent of my pride to stem,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And keep ambition down!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The praise of men’s an empty thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And crowns and sceptres vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him who seeks the “living spring,”<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As parch’d lands look for rain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some recommend the hearty laugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But I prefer the tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which tells me that my heart is soft,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My hope of heaven is clear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some say, “Give me the tavern song!”<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But I prefer the sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which though unnoticed by the throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yet pierces to the sky!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some say, “Give me that pleasing look,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which does the fancy win!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But give me one that’s plain without,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">If she be fair within!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some plead for ornamental dress,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The concert and the ball;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except the Robe of Righteousness,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let me be stript of all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some love with dealers dark to dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And glory in the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I would shun the road to hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Therefore I love the light!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some love their minds with tales to feed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of regions yet untrod;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I’ve a little time to read,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Give me the Book of God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some praise a head of natural wit<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And worldly wisdom full;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without the truths of Holy Writ,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Give me an empty skull!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The jet, the gold, or ivory cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By many is admir’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I esteem the blood of Him,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who on the cross expir’d!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My heart with sin as crimson dyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Would ever so remain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if that blood by faith’s applied,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">’Twill cleanse from every stain!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With some their fill of pleasure here,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is all the good they crave:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me a humble, holy fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A hope beyond the grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At wisdom’s shrine I’ll light my torch,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And in her pleasant ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the Nazarene’s reproach,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I’ll live out all my days!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus whether sanction’d or despis’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Such is my fancy’s Rule;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In keeping which I shall be wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Although accounted fool!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the free thinker take the hint,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And with my creed agree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all are not compell’d to think,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor speak the same as he!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="ON_FINDING_SOME_DEISTICAL_BOOKS_IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_ONE_WHO_ONCE_FEARED_GOD" id="ON_FINDING_SOME_DEISTICAL_BOOKS_IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_ONE_WHO_ONCE_FEARED_GOD"></a>ON FINDING SOME DEISTICAL BOOKS IN THE HOUSE OF ONE WHO ONCE FEARED GOD!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">“<i>How is the gold become dim!</i>” (Lamen. iv. 1.)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">False publications throw their gloomy rays,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where once the Sun of Righteousness did shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pain we recollect the former days,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While scoffing infidels their voices join!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Insulting Heav’n, they oft with brazen brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deny our Saviour is the Son of God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But soon to Him their every knee shall bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And they shall groan beneath His iron rod!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What madness to defy His power above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To slight that blood which has their souls redeem’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him who does his God sincerely love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How painful ’tis to hear His name blasphem’d!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O let us flee these men of wicked minds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose glory reaches not beyond the grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who to accomplish their absurd designs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dethrone our King, and style the conquest brave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still He reigns, and shall for ever hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In massy chains the gloomy powers of Hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They soon His second coming shall behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And howling, see the place from whence they fell!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! surely Satan’s thousand years are up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he once more is suffer’d loose to go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His object is to stagger Israel’s hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drag them captive to his den below!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come down, O Lord! and bid thy thunders roll!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Send forth thy lightnings, and thy foes consume!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O let them know that thou wilt them controul,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In each, and all the shapes which they assume!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gird on thy sword, thou mighty matchless King!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Reclaim these poor deluded sons of men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O save them from the cruel serpent’s sting;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drive him back to his infernal den!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If Israel’s hope is not quite lost in death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May these dry bones the Word of God receive!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come from the four winds, O reviving breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And breathe upon these slain, that they may live!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="ON_VISITING_FRYUP_DURING_A_GREAT_REVIVAL" id="ON_VISITING_FRYUP_DURING_A_GREAT_REVIVAL"></a>ON VISITING FRYUP, DURING A GREAT REVIVAL.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Fryup! far distant thy fame now extends,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Kind Heav’n doth thy breaches repair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou land of religion, and bibles, and friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I rejoice to breathe thy pure air!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou land of devotion, and health to the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With pleasure I walk o’er thy plains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Christ to the sick hath oft spoken, “Be whole!”<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where religion, where righteousness reigns!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With earnest desire I’ve long wish’d to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The beauties which now I behold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This visit has proved more refreshing to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Than thousands of silver, or gold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The day spring of glory hath visited thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For joy thy inhabitant sings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bright Sun of Righteousness riseth on thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And healing’s receiv’d from his wings!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His influence too, I have felt in my soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With gratitude now I confess;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May all his opposers yield to his control,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And sinners be saved by his grace!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As lights in a land long benighted and dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">May thy sons and thy daughters arise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While faith to a flame fans the Heav’nly spark,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And they earnestly press to the skies!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May the husband incessantly plead for the wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The wife for her husband contend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the favour of God which is better than life,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">May on both through the Spirit descend!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May the lover’s petition be heard for the fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the maiden prevail for the youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all those who for righteousness never did care,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Feel the force of Religion and Truth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May thy ministers fill’d with the Spirit of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As giants prevail o’er their foes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their word prove more sharp than a two edged sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In defence of their King and his laws!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May thy sinners be sav’d on every hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Believers be steadfast and true;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sorrow, once more, I now quit thy fair land,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Old Fryup! and bid thee adieu!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_THREE_VOICES" id="THE_THREE_VOICES"></a>THE THREE VOICES!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1st.</i> <i>The Voice of Conscience says</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Man! mind thyself, and all thyself;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy inner self, thy outer self,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy present self, thy future self,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The best of self, and worst of self;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or it may chance that thou, thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ever may’st upbraid thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For making such a fool of self,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As not in time to know thyself!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2nd.</i> <i>The Voice of the Flesh says</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Man! do thou enjoy thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For why should’st thou annoy thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or strangely thus employ thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In seeking thus to know thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When other men are like thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beware lest thou destroy thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be not a burden to thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While thou hast life within thyself!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3rd.</i> <i>The Voice of the Devil says</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fine man, think highly of thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put no restraint upon thyself;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor with religion plague thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thou art not so bad as self<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would sometimes make thee think thyself!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To my advice submit thyself,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in thy lusts indulge thyself;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then I at last shall get thyself!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="A_DIALOGUE" id="A_DIALOGUE"></a>A DIALOGUE</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">Between Rosedale Bob and Hartoft John, on a Speech delivered by +the Venerable The Archdeacon P——, L.L.D., at a Bible Meeting +held in the new Church, Rosedale.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—What cheer, awd stock? say what’s ther beean te doo,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’At macks ye leeak seea dark aboot yer broo?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yoo leeak as thof yer parliament petition<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had met wi’ sum romantic opposition!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or mebby yoo hev met wi’ sum abuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or fra’ sum quarter heeard sum heavy news!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perhaps the trial may cum clooaser still,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yer wife or childer may be takken ill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Alas! the news Ah hev te tell’s seea bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fields an’ forests seeam i’ moorning clad;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By men unauthorized an’ unordeean’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oor new erected Temple is profeean’d!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cushions an’ the tassels all are soil’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bell’s enchanted, an’ oor woorship’s spoil’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ve held in it, what’s caus’d this desecration,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A meetin’ for t’ Baable’s circulation.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—If that be all the thing’s as leeght as chaff,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fields an’ fleeads may clap ther hands an’ laff;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sin’ better sense is teeachin’ greeat an’ small,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te send this glorious leeght fra’ pole te pole!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +<span class="i2">’Tis yan o’ Jesus Christ’s last greeat commands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te send this leeght te dark an’ heathen lands.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lets whooap the profit ’ll ootweigh the loss;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If t’parson beean’t t’Church ’ll be neea worse!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Whah, Ah’s neea scholar, nowther will pertend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te say, hoo far this mischief may extend.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oor greeat Divine, afoore he left the pleeace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He tell’d us positive it wur the keease:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hiz argument did raise te that amoont,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Church wur ruin’d on this seeame accoont;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When sike like wark the church’s pillars shake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hiz maister’s honner foorc’d him for te speak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—Whether Divine, M.A., or L.L.D.,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’Tis lahtle matter whea or what he be:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thing’s reveal’d tiv us as clear as him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What God approves man owght nut te condemn.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whate’er may be his sacerdotal geeans,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The public, they may thenk him for hiz peeans;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’At he seea fine a sample sud dispense<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ov college iddicated influence.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Cud it be heeard an’ understeead on reeght,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Daft Hannah’s speech be quite as full o’leeght.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She thinks t’awd man sud nut ha’ beean seea vext,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud tonn’d hiz leeaf an’ teean anuther text.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bad effects hez beean, she hez neea doot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ brush or beezom swept an’ carried oot;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They teeak true pains te mack all clean an’ clivver,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ t’ Church is noo as gud an’ weel as ivver.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—Bud leeak thoo heer, this is the thing they dreead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If yance t’Baable an’ the truth be spreead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The veil ’ll fall fra’ off the people’s eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ t’ commons then will as the lords be wise;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They then ’ll graw so base i’ disposition,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te heigher powers they will disdain submission;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ will te men ov honourable name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Refuse that homage which ther titles claim!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Then chapels will i’ all directions rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi’ saucy steeples moonting te the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ preeachers run, or ride on hoss or gig,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As rank as sheep that travel Blaca rig,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If sike proceedings further be alloo’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awd England’s sun ’ll set behinnd a clood:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nur need we wonder they alood procleeam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thooase men sal speeak neea longer i’ this neeame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—’At sike a meetin’ sud be held i’ t’ church,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By men ’at scarce wur fit te stand i’ t’ porch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wur sike a stain upon its consecration,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As roused his reverence’s indignation.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What cud thooase expect as ther reward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud fra’ sike bold attempts te be debarr’d;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nur ivver mare mun they cum theer again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whahl he hiz sacred office does sustain!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If sike like doctrines spreead an’ sud prevail,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then Bishop’s ordination treead ’ll fail;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then grace ’ll mare than larning be admired,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ priests stand i’ the market place unhired:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men will fra’ ivvery secret corner creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or oot o’ coalpits into pulpits leap;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Whahl wi’ ther gestures an’ insinuations,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ll rob the Churches o’ ther congregations.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Then fooaks ’ll ton, like bees ’at’s left the hive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seea stupid as te nowther leead nur drive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nur draw by gifts, nur binnd doon by oppression,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nur scar by Apostolical Succession:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In vain a man may then hiz feeace disguise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ landlords ower ther tenants tyrannize.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Neea patchwark then ’ll answer as afoore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nur gowns, nur blankets buy or sell the poor.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That Parson then by chance may loss hiz pleeace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whea hunts, or gallops i’ the Steeple Chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whea i’ the ring appears a jovial fellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sits by his wine or grog till he is mellow;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then wi’ hiz dogs pursues the grouse or game<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mare than the cottage ov the poor or lame;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or if hiz gun sud chance te miss the mark<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te rap an’ sweear, an’ lie all t’bleeam o’ t’ clerk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—Nur wonder thoo that venerable man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sud be seea feearful ov hiz treead an’ clan;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If better leeght be spreead by land an’ sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oor heeame boond slaves ’ll seek for liberty,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They’ll finnd they’re neean seea fit te show the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thooase ’at walks theerin fra’ day te day.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud God himsel has teeak the thing i’ hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ Baable Meetings yet sal bless oor land;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oor God ’ll raise up men ov noble soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ He the sleepy churches will controul:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will send hiz sarvants whea hiz judgements knaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te thunner oot the terrors ov His law;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Whahl Jesus will hiz meeghty airm mack bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ tack the flocks himsel into hiz care.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Sike laws amang oor heeigh up chaps exist,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As labouring men finnd hard for te resist.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O’t’ Sabbath days they rob beeath God an’ man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That scribe may preeav this statement fause as can.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All hands mun haste seean as they hear the bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To t’steeple hoose let t’priest be what he will;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ thooase ’at izzen’t satisfied wi’ t’kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mun owther quit ther farm or loss ther woark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—Thooase laws mitch differ fra’ the laws ov heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fra’ God te man for holy purpose given;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peace te promote an’ put an end te strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te regulate hiz hoosehod an’ hiz life.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In holy days afoore the churches fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Neea music soonded like the sabbath bell;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ministers wur thoughtful, holy men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nur threeats wur needed, nur compulsion then.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bob.</i>—Yan wad be fain sike days again te see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ hear fooaks sing wi’ love an’ melody,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As yan hez reead i’ bukes ov holy men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">’At nowther cared for fire nur lion’s den:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bud dreeaded sin wi’ all its scorpion stings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mare than the wrath ov heathen priests an’ kings.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All whea te God in meek submission boo,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thof t’way be dark, He’ll awlus bring ’em throo.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>John.</i>—Jist wait a whahl, till taame reverse the scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An’ Anti-Christ hez hed hiz pompous reign;<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +<span class="i2">When persecution wi’ her torch an’ foark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sets carnal men an’ ministers te woark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te help the Beast te mack hiz proselytes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Te purge hiz fleer, an’ bon the hypocrites:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then thooase whea live, an’ hev the truth maintained,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I’ cleearer leeght ’ll hev the thing explained.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="A_LOVE_LETTER" id="A_LOVE_LETTER"></a>A LOVE LETTER!</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(<i>To Miss ——</i>)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forgive a stranger who would make so free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to declare a suitor’s love for thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the strength of his affection, move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart to render back responsive love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The language these few humble lines impart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though it seem rude, is from an honest heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From one whose only aim and object is,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Lover’s glory, and thy future bliss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not for myself would I now intercede,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I, alas, no excellence can plead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My handsomest attire is homely spun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many years my glass of life hath run!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I plead the cause of Him, at whose command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul shall one day in his presence stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou for ever may’st lament the change,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If once His love be turn’d into revenge!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of all thy list of lovers finely drest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He told me secretly He was the first;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That even in thy youthful frolics wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His love was on thee, from a very child!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That often he has stood without thy door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thou did’st other swains prefer before:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That oft the tear hath dim’d his eye so bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His locks all dripping with the dews of night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He needs not thus admit of rivals, when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is the fairest of the sons of men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wooes the world, and those who hear his voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seldom, if ever, rue their happy choice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He says for thee He has in battle bled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carried weighty sorrows in thy stead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save thy soul from infinite distress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bruis’d the monster in the wilderness!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, language fails, to say by land or sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What perils He hath undergone for thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, many a bitter cup, and piercing smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soul hath felt to gain thy worthless heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes! He who thus demands thy stedfast love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is highly honour’d in the courts above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He speaks, and sun, and moon, and stars, stand still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stormy winds and waves obey his will!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His tender care hath been about thy bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When midnight thunders rolled above thy head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When trembling thou beheld’st the lightning’s glare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light up thy room, and cause thee sudden fear!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To all who need Him he is sure to prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best Physician too, when sick of love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet all those who fall beneath his ire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His anger doth consume and burn like fire!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How long wilt thou withhold from Him his right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or from thyself such permanent delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As He hath promis’d in His faithful word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as the hills of Paradise afford?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When will thine eyes with happy tears o’erflow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy fair breast with holy ardour glow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When will thy lips thy dearest friend surprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By speaking out the language of the skies?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who thus surrender Him their heart and mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through life’s vicissitudes are sure to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A faithful Lover, and a constant Friend!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where will those flee, or what may they expect,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who his repeated overtures reject,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who put in other gods their daily trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When He shall dash their refuge into dust?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I long to see that lovely face of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beam forth with holy confidence divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, fully freed from sin’s enthralling chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer seek for happiness in vain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If then thy love be wandering elsewhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy choice decide, while He doth with thee bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest thou lament thy loss with anguish keen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Death hath fix’d a mighty gulf between!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="TRUTH_TRIUMPHANT" id="TRUTH_TRIUMPHANT"></a>TRUTH TRIUMPHANT!</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See yon flag of crimson dye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wave along the vaulted sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">See yon flag, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To its hem fair Truth is bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood of martyrs sprinkled round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That earth’s multitudes may see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth will have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wicked men in vain oppose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Babes shall sing of Sharon’s Rose!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wicked men, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne on winds from pole to pole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the prophet’s flying roll;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ethiopia soon shall see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth will have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some of earth’s dark corners shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With this heav’nly light divine!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Some of earth’s, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Africa’s dark sons obey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pagan temples own her sway;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Own with us, ’tis God’s decree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth shall have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Turks! who will no mercy shew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mercy is proclaim’d for you!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Turks! who will, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men are ceasing to bow down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their gods of wood and stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all nations soon shall see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth will have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where Truth reigns the work goes on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ and Truth are both but one!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Where Truth, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saints shall find the promise true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ will soon “make all things new;”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rejoice at God’s decree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth shall have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pow’rs of darkness! do your best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put your prowess to the test!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Pow’rs of darkness! &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Persecution fierce employ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jesu’s kingdom to destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis in vain! ’tis God’s decree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth shall have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jews! the Crucified adore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Objects of his wrath no more!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Jews! the Crucified, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Own the Galilean King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your gentile brethren sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now obey, ’tis God’s decree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth shall have the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hasten, Lord, the glorious day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let all true believers say!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Hasten, Lord, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When these frozen hearts shall flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each with love and wonder glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All with one accord agree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth hath gain’d the Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon th’ Archangel’s trump shall sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wake the dead from sleep profound!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Soon the, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth shall melt, the stars shall fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men on rocks and mountains call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ will then his saints set free:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What a glorious Victory!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Victory! Victory!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="REFLECTIONS_ON_A_BACKSLIDER" id="REFLECTIONS_ON_A_BACKSLIDER"></a>REFLECTIONS ON A BACKSLIDER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How art thou fallen, thou son of the light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How happy the scenes from which thou art driven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold! if thy soul can dwell on the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thou didst once walk and hold converse with heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then down turn thine eye to yon dreary place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which with swift steps thy spirit is bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See the hideous forms which thy spirit shall chase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere long in that fire which thee will surround!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In anguish there thy frighted eyes shall roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While demons triumph at thy overthrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flaming firebrands lash thy naked soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With burning arrows pierce thee through and through!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy dying soul still fed with living pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall curse the day on which she first drew breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her awful burden she must still sustain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weep, and wail, and long in vain for death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Midst hell’s deep gloom her portion she must drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of double vengeance from Jehovah’s ire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the burning lake for ever sink,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dreadful region of tormenting fire!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! the dreadful stupor still remains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor hell can fright, nor heav’nly joys allure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain thy self-convicted soul complains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of constant torment, and of thoughts impure!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In vain the heav’nly harpers tune the lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejoicing saints perform the three-fold part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain believers flash devotion’s fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or drag the holy harrows o’er thy heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That heart enclos’d as in a case of steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laments its loss, and seeks for rest in vain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighs for that impulse which she once did feel,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! shall she never taste those joys again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know the Lord is mighty to redeem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of boundless mercy, and unmeasur’d grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sin hath fix’d a mighty gulf between,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond that gulf a Saviour shows his face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes thou may’st the keen conviction spurn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through liquor’s magic, or associates gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this thy strongest refuge will o’erturn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think of Death, and the great judgement day.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="VILLAGE_PREACHING" id="VILLAGE_PREACHING"></a>VILLAGE PREACHING.</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">“<i>Speak unto us smooth things.</i>” (Isaiah xxx. 10.)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far over Cleveland’s lofty hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Water’d by rivulets and rills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lovely village doth appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o’er the trees its chimneys rear<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A church there is without a steeple,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And several unconverted people;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though not much pious fruit appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The people still desire to hear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To chapel oft they go and back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their old summer beaten track,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where they the Holy Spirit grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pray for what they don’t believe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those preachers they like best to hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose doctrine is not too severe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who make no push extraordinary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But tell their tale and let them be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It happen’d on a certain day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stranger chanced to stroll that way;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I’ll try to sketch him if I can,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some call him an eccentric man.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One whom God’s Spirit had enlighten’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom his own sins had soundly frightened;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who when by strong conviction pained,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did pardon seek, which he obtained.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He knew he then accepted stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By faith in the atoning blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But saw the people’s sad condition,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And offer’d them his admonition.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A door was open in that place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where long had been the means of grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The means by many long neglected,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear they there should be detected.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A worthy woman there did live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who her advice did gratis give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who cared for both the flock and fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Deborah in days of old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like her she long had wish’d to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A glorious gospel victory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave a friendly invitation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear an extra exhortation.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The forms were set, and rostrum fix’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The preacher went and took his text:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinners! your bleeding Saviour see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cries, “Ye will not come to me!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He tried to tell what those shall win,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who come to Christ and leave their sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How those shall fare in the great day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who all their life time stay away.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Having as he thought, clear’d his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sang, and then began to pray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He left his elevated station,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went among his congregation,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of the great things he’d dwelt upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ask’d them questions, one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if advice or help was needing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For penitents who then were pleading.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They still went on to sing and pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The good, old-fashioned gospel way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And closer press’d the invitation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until ’twas time for separation.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But such unusual proceeding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They say completely spoil’d the meeting;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That preacher’s conduct is unstable,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who cannot keep behind the table!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Preachers ought not to come so nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the soul’s affairs to pry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whether they be saved or no,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is more than they’ve a right to know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such bold presuming impudence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To some might prove a great offence;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Going and asking one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How they for Heaven are getting on!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They say they’ll come to preaching still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she one promise will fulfil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is as long as she is able,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will keep the man behind the table.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those hearers now are far too thin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who like a lusty, loud “Amen!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And folks have now a taste so fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A semiquaver breaks the line!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye men of God, the truth enforce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cannot press the thing too close,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you would do the people good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or clear your conscience of their blood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When your sermon is completed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then your aid is further needed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lift up still your warning voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor leave the people to their choice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though some, alas, are so precise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God’s rich blessings do despise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Others may need your friendly care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And will your counsel gladly hear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If your advice when managed well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance might save some soul from Hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh think of this,—and if you’re able,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may stand still behind the table.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I should go that way once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find the people as before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They must have either chain or cable,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they keep <i>me</i> behind the table.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_LODGER_IN_LIVERPOOL" id="THE_LODGER_IN_LIVERPOOL"></a>THE LODGER IN LIVERPOOL;</h2> + +<p class="large center"><b>OR,</b></p> + +<p class="large center"><b>THE MASON IN WINTER NIPT BY THE FROST.</b></p> + +<p class="smaller center">While a card party were enjoying themselves in an adjoining +room.</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While sad I sit, oft musing over<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Happy days for ever fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lonely lodger in a corner,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like some hermit in his shed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All around seems blithe and merry;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>My</i> light’s dim, and harp’s unstrung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While memory turns to yonder valley,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On whose flowery banks I’ve sung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dirty, ragged, and down-hearted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far from country, friends, and home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as far from kindness parted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doom’d for work the world to roam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While the cheerful game hath flourish’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gaily the glad table round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my eye the tear unnoticed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oft hath fallen to the ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now they sing of female beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or the treachery of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of robbers seeking booty,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like the tiger from his den.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lovely forms and handsome faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Serve to gild the gay deceit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amorous ditties serve for graces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Both before and after meat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">’Tis theirs to share life’s fleeting joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mine to drag the galling chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still a hope my spirit buoys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the sun will shine again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If their pleasures were not carnal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I might long with them to share;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did they lead to joys eternal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they laugh, I might despair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when time makes all surrender,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor permits the least excuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy they, whom time’s avenger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Charges not with its abuse.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="EDOM" id="EDOM"></a>EDOM.</h2> + +<p class="smaller center">(Isaiah lxiii. 1.)</p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O ye muses, assist me to sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the things which by faith I have seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the love of my Saviour and King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While wandering on earth I have been.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That Him I so little have loved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this I have reason to mourn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for talents and time mis-improved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the days of my youth that are gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For neglect of the records divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which so often did sound in mine ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My affections they did not incline,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I neglected like others to hear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like sheep did we all go astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left the fair pastures serene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did wander from him far away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where terror and darkness were seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There in ambush our enemies lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we roam’d o’er those desolate plains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We became their unfortunate prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And were bound in affliction and chains.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We long in that sad plight did lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor had courage nor strength to look up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet we oft cast a languishing eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the hills from whence cometh our hope.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there came one from Edom afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom the sad signal we gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He looked like a champion of war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was bloody—yet mighty to save!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as swift to our rescue He came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We related to Him all our grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said that heaven heard us complain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ’twas He that had brought us relief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Who art thou?” then we fearfully said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Why so red in thy glorious array?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one who is sorely dismayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the burden and heat of the day?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“I have come from the Father of lights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you in His glory may shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose throne is on high o’er all heights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the work of redemption is mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In His courts the great question was ask’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would rescue lost man from the grave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, my love and omnipotence task’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the ruined and lost I might save!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then stern Justice demanded his due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I looked for help but found none;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So my life I have laid down for you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have trodden the wine press alone.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Look on me,” He said with a smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“’Twas for you I was bruised as ye see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was none for this wonderful toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the burden fell all upon me!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then He lifted us up from the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And He broke our tyrannical chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While His blood stream’d afresh from each wound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whoever it touch’d was made clean!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The ransom, though mighty, is paid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore open your hearts to receive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You need be no longer afraid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you truly repent and believe!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While sweet comfort thus flow’d from his tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His visage though marr’d grew more fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With swift wings and angelical song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ascended on high in the air!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A bright cloud took Him out of our sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our eyes could behold him no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He arose to the regions of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left us to believe and adore!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="REFLECTIONS_ON_ABSENT_FRIENDS_GONE_TO_AMERICA" id="REFLECTIONS_ON_ABSENT_FRIENDS_GONE_TO_AMERICA"></a>REFLECTIONS ON ABSENT FRIENDS, GONE TO AMERICA.</h2> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun had gone down o’er yon lofty mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The last golden streamer had left the tall tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rose tree was nodding the lasses had nourish’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which oft had supplied them with Sunday’s perfume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wept o’er the beautiful daisy in bloom!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the track by the river the green grass is springing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dog in the night time now howls discontented,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of its master and mistress but lately bereft;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I listen’d and look’d to the place they frequented,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How strong the emotions of friendship were glowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the shores of old England we anxiously view’d them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far o’er the blue surface affection pursued them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the ship was conceal’d by the curtain of night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They have left us,—their absence wakes mournful reflection,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We can only consign them to heavenly protection,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He who roves through the wood may quickly discover,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their affection in tokens which there he will see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May sigh o’er their names in the bark of the tree.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="THE_LAST_JOB_OF_AN_OLD_TRAMP" id="THE_LAST_JOB_OF_AN_OLD_TRAMP"></a>THE LAST JOB OF AN OLD TRAMP;</h2> + +<p class="center large"><b>OR,</b></p> + +<p class="center large"><b>REFLECTIONS ON BURNING A MASON’S MALLET +FOR A YULE CLOG, ON CHRISTMAS EVE.</b></p> + + +<div class="poem gap2"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O thou once highly valued piece of wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By him who best that value understood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose purse so often thou didst help to fill,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whom bed and board,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thou didst afford,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attended by thy train of sharpen’d steel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True to thy task throughout the changing year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fellowship was to thy master dear:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether at work, or o’er his shoulder slung,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Or near his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thou wast his pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While with his friend he cheerful sat and sung!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Without a murmur at stern winter’s frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or summer’s heat, in country or in town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stone hath yielded to thy sturdy blow:—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thy day is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thy task is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou art own’d by thy last master now!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While careless I thy destiny survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see thee down to ashes waste away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy crackling whisper seems to shew to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The frailty clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of all things here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To earth allied, and man’s mortality!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since first on thee the tender bud appear’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or on thy branch the birds the woodlands cheer’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What strange vicissitudes have roll’d between;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Since thou wast nurs’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With care at first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the forest flourish’d gay and green!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a time when high thy top did wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mystic triumph o’er the woodman’s grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose stroke had ceas’d, worn out by course of years;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Where undismay’d<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The breezes play’d,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose peaceful shade remembrance only bears!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! thou wilt never, never bud again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy ashes lost in field, or flood, or lane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the sun will on thy substance shine:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">It would, at last, I fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Be well with many here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If life’s last spark might be compared with thine!<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="GLOSSARY" id="GLOSSARY"></a>GLOSSARY.</h2> + + +<p class="listfirst">Aboon—<i>above</i></p> +<p class="list">Ageean—<i>against</i></p> +<p class="list">Ah—<i>I</i></p> +<p class="list">Ah’v—<i>I have</i></p> +<p class="list">Airm—<i>arm</i></p> +<p class="list">Alang—<i>along</i></p> +<p class="list">’At’s—<i>that is</i></p> +<p class="list">Awd—<i>old</i></p> +<p class="list">Awn—<i>own</i></p> +<p class="list">Awlus—<i>always</i></p> +<p class="list">Ax—<i>ask</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Baable—<i>bible</i></p> +<p class="list">Bairn—<i>child</i></p> +<p class="list">Beck—<i>a brook</i></p> +<p class="list">Beean—<i>been</i></p> +<p class="list">Beeans—<i>bones</i></p> +<p class="list">Beean’t—<i>be not</i></p> +<p class="list">Beeath—<i>both</i></p> +<p class="list">Beelds—<i>builds</i></p> +<p class="list">Berreed—<i>buried</i></p> +<p class="list">Besaads—<i>besides</i></p> +<p class="list">Blaw—<i>blow</i></p> +<p class="list">Bleead—<i>blood</i></p> +<p class="list">Boo—<i>bow</i></p> +<p class="list">Booast—<i>boast</i></p> +<p class="list">Boorn—<i>born</i></p> +<p class="list">Boon—<i>going</i></p> +<p class="list">Bon—<i>burn</i></p> +<p class="list">Bonny—<i>handsome</i></p> +<p class="list">Bowght—<i>bought</i></p> +<p class="list">Breeght—<i>bright</i></p> +<p class="list">Brigg—<i>bridge</i></p> +<p class="list">Broo—<i>brow</i></p> +<p class="list">Bukes—<i>books</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Cawd—<i>cold</i></p> +<p class="list">Caps—<i>puzzles</i></p> +<p class="list">Cheeans—<i>chains</i></p> +<p class="list">Childer—<i>children</i></p> +<p class="list">Chimler—<i>chimney</i></p> +<p class="list">Clim—<i>climb</i></p> +<p class="list">Clivver—<i>clever</i></p> +<p class="list">Com—<i>came</i></p> +<p class="list">Congker’d—<i>conquered</i></p> +<p class="list">Convarsion—<i>conversion</i></p> +<p class="list">Cooat—<i>coat</i></p> +<p class="list"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>Coorn—<i>corn</i></p> +<p class="list">Coorse—<i>course</i></p> +<p class="list">Cubburt—<i>cupboard</i></p> +<p class="list">Cum—<i>come</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Daft—<i>weak in mind</i></p> +<p class="list">Dee—<i>die</i></p> +<p class="list">Deea—<i>do</i></p> +<p class="list">Deeal—<i>dale</i></p> +<p class="list">Deean—<i>done</i></p> +<p class="list">Deed—<i>died</i></p> +<p class="list">Deein—<i>dying</i></p> +<p class="list">Desaun’d—<i>designed</i></p> +<p class="list">Doon—<i>down</i></p> +<p class="list">Doot—<i>doubt</i></p> +<p class="list">Draave—<i>drive</i></p> +<p class="list">Duffil—<i>kind of coarse cloth</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Ee—<i>eye</i></p> +<p class="list">Een—<i>eyes</i></p> +<p class="list">Efter—<i>after</i></p> +<p class="list">Ey—<i>aye</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Faanly—<i>finely</i></p> +<p class="list">Fain—<i>glad</i></p> +<p class="list">Fand—<i>found</i></p> +<p class="list">Fause—<i>false</i></p> +<p class="list">Feeat—<i>foot</i></p> +<p class="list">Feead—<i>fed</i></p> +<p class="list">Feight—<i>fight</i></p> +<p class="list">Finnd—<i>find</i></p> +<p class="list">Flay’d—<i>afraid</i></p> +<p class="list">Fleead—<i>flood</i></p> +<p class="list">Fleer—<i>floor</i></p> +<p class="list">Floor—<i>flower</i></p> +<p class="list">Foark—<i>fork</i></p> +<p class="list">Fooas—<i>foes</i></p> +<p class="list">Fooaks—<i>folks</i></p> +<p class="list">Fooam—<i>foam</i></p> +<p class="list">Foond—<i>found</i></p> +<p class="list">Forgeean—<i>forgiven</i></p> +<p class="list">Fower—<i>four</i></p> +<p class="list">Fra’—<i>from</i></p> +<p class="list">Freeat—<i>fret</i></p> +<p class="list">Frev—<i>from</i></p> +<p class="list">Froon’d—<i>frowned</i></p> +<p class="list">Fund—<i>found</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Gaain—<i>going</i></p> +<p class="list">Gamlin—<i>gambling</i></p> +<p class="list">Gang—<i>to go</i></p> +<p class="list">Gangin—<i>going</i></p> +<p class="list">Gat—<i>got</i></p> +<p class="list">Geean—<i>gone</i></p> +<p class="list">Geean’d—<i>gained</i></p> +<p class="list">Geen—<i>given</i></p> +<p class="list">Gie—<i>give</i></p> +<p class="list">Ginnes—<i>guineas</i></p> +<p class="list">Gitten—<i>got</i></p> +<p class="list">Gooan—<i>gone</i></p> +<p class="list"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>Graw—<i>grow</i></p> +<p class="list">Greeatin—<i>groaning</i></p> +<p class="list">Greeave—<i>grave</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Hawf—<i>half</i></p> +<p class="list">Heeame—<i>home</i></p> +<p class="list">Heearth—<i>earth</i></p> +<p class="list">Heeigh—<i>high</i></p> +<p class="list">Hennut—<i>have not</i></p> +<p class="list">Hev—<i>have</i></p> +<p class="list">Hez—<i>has</i></p> +<p class="list">Hezzen’t—<i>has not</i></p> +<p class="list">Hods—<i>holds</i></p> +<p class="list">Hoo—<i>how</i></p> +<p class="list">Hoor—<i>hour</i></p> +<p class="list">Hooivver—<i>however</i></p> +<p class="list">Hoose—<i>house</i></p> +<p class="list">Hoosin—<i>household</i></p> +<p class="list">Hoss—<i>horse</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Iddicated—<i>educated</i></p> +<p class="list">I’ noo—<i>soon</i></p> +<p class="list">I’ t’—<i>in the</i></p> +<p class="list">Iv—<i>in</i></p> +<p class="list">Ivvery—<i>every</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Keease—<i>case</i></p> +<p class="list">Ken—<i>to see</i></p> +<p class="list">Kesenmas—<i>christmas</i></p> +<p class="list">Kest—<i>cast</i></p> +<p class="list">Kirk—<i>church</i></p> +<p class="list">Knaw—<i>know</i></p> +<p class="list">Ky—<i>cows</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Lahtle—<i>little</i></p> +<p class="list">Lee—<i>a lie</i></p> +<p class="list">Leeak—<i>look</i></p> +<p class="list">Leeatly—<i>lately</i></p> +<p class="list">Leeght—<i>light</i></p> +<p class="list">Lie—<i>to lay</i></p> +<p class="list">Lig—<i>to lie</i></p> +<p class="list">Lood—<i>loud</i></p> +<p class="list">Loore—<i>learning</i></p> +<p class="list">Loss—<i>lose</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Mack—<i>make</i></p> +<p class="list">Mah—<i>my</i></p> +<p class="list">Mahle—<i>mile</i></p> +<p class="list">Mare—<i>more</i></p> +<p class="list">Maund—<i>mind</i></p> +<p class="list">Mebby—<i>may be</i></p> +<p class="list">Meead—<i>made</i></p> +<p class="list">Meeasons—<i>masons</i></p> +<p class="list">Meeght—<i>might</i></p> +<p class="list">Meer—<i>a mare</i></p> +<p class="list">Misteean—<i>mistaken</i></p> +<p class="list">Mitch—<i>much</i></p> +<p class="list">Mooan’t—<i>must not</i></p> +<p class="list">Mooat—<i>mote</i></p> +<p class="list">Moont—<i>mount</i></p> +<p class="list"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>Moorning—<i>mourning</i></p> +<p class="list">Mud—<i>might</i></p> +<p class="list">Mun—<i>must</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Natches—<i>notches</i></p> +<p class="list">Neea—<i>no</i></p> +<p class="list">Neean—<i>none</i></p> +<p class="list">Neegh—<i>nigh</i></p> +<p class="list">Neeght—<i>night</i></p> +<p class="list">Neen—<i>nine</i></p> +<p class="list">Nivver—<i>never</i></p> +<p class="list">Nobbut—<i>only</i></p> +<p class="list">Nooas—<i>noes</i></p> +<p class="list">Nooatice—<i>notice</i></p> +<p class="list">Nooation—<i>idea</i></p> +<p class="list">Nowght—<i>nothing</i></p> +<p class="list">Nowther—<i>neither</i></p> +<p class="list">Nowthern—<i>northern</i></p> +<p class="list">Nut—<i>not</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Ommost—<i>almost</i></p> +<p class="list">Onny—<i>any</i></p> +<p class="list">Oor—<i>our</i></p> +<p class="list">O’ t’—<i>of the</i></p> +<p class="list">Ower—<i>over</i></p> +<p class="list">Owerton—<i>overturn</i></p> +<p class="list">Owght—<i>ought, or aught</i></p> +<p class="list">Owther—<i>either</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Pearted—<i>parted</i></p> +<p class="list">Pertend—<i>pretend</i></p> +<p class="list">Pleeace—<i>place</i></p> +<p class="list">Pleugh—<i>plough</i></p> +<p class="list">Plissures—<i>pleasures</i></p> +<p class="list">Poosts—<i>posts</i></p> +<p class="list">Praaze—<i>praise, or prize</i></p> +<p class="list">Preear—<i>prayer</i></p> +<p class="list">Preeav—<i>prove</i></p> +<p class="list">Prisance—<i>presence</i></p> +<p class="list">Prooan—<i>prone</i></p> +<p class="list">Prooase—<i>prose</i></p> +<p class="list">Prood—<i>proud</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Raise—<i>rise</i></p> +<p class="list">Rath—<i>wrath</i></p> +<p class="list">Reeace—<i>race</i></p> +<p class="list">Reeght—<i>right</i></p> +<p class="list">Reen—<i>reign</i></p> +<p class="list">Rint—<i>rent</i></p> +<p class="list">Rowlin—<i>rolling</i></p> +<p class="list">Rum—<i>room</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Saain’d—<i>signed</i></p> +<p class="list">Sal—<i>shall</i></p> +<p class="list">Sare—<i>sore</i></p> +<p class="list">Sarten—<i>certain</i></p> +<p class="list">Sawn—<i>sown</i></p> +<p class="list">Screeve—<i>mark</i></p> +<p class="list">Seea—<i>so</i></p> +<p class="list">Seeaf—<i>safe</i></p> +<p class="list"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>Seean—<i>soon</i></p> +<p class="list">Seeaven—<i>seven</i></p> +<p class="list">Seeght—<i>sight</i></p> +<p class="list">Seer—<i>sure</i></p> +<p class="list">Shanks—<i>legs</i></p> +<p class="list">Shaw—<i>show</i></p> +<p class="list">Sheeape—<i>shape</i></p> +<p class="list">Shoat—<i>short</i></p> +<p class="list">Shoo—<i>show</i></p> +<p class="list">Shoothers—<i>shoulders</i></p> +<p class="list">Sike—<i>such</i></p> +<p class="list">Sin’—<i>since</i></p> +<p class="list">Skoors—<i>scores</i></p> +<p class="list">Snaw—<i>snow</i></p> +<p class="list">Soorce—<i>source</i></p> +<p class="list">Sowl—<i>soul</i></p> +<p class="list">Spak—<i>spoke</i></p> +<p class="list">Steead—<i>stood</i></p> +<p class="list">Steeaks—<i>stakes</i></p> +<p class="list">Steean—<i>stone</i></p> +<p class="list">Strang—<i>strong</i></p> +<p class="list">Strave—<i>strive</i></p> +<p class="list">Stond—<i>stand</i></p> +<p class="list">Stour—<i>drift</i></p> +<p class="list">Sud—<i>should</i></p> +<p class="list">Sum—<i>some</i></p> +<p class="list">Sute—<i>suit</i></p> +<p class="list">Swap—<i>exchange</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Taame—<i>time</i></p> +<p class="list">Tack—<i>take</i></p> +<p class="list">Teea an’ fraw—<i>to and fro</i></p> +<p class="list">Teeables—<i>tables</i></p> +<p class="list">Teeak—<i>took</i></p> +<p class="list">Teeal—<i>tale</i></p> +<p class="list">Teean—<i>taken</i></p> +<p class="list">Tegither—<i>together</i></p> +<p class="list">Te t’—<i>to the</i></p> +<p class="list">Thah—<i>thy</i></p> +<p class="list">Thee—<i>thy</i></p> +<p class="list">Theer—<i>there</i></p> +<p class="list">Thenk—<i>thank</i></p> +<p class="list">Ther—<i>their</i></p> +<p class="list">Thof—<i>though</i></p> +<p class="list">Thowght—<i>thought</i></p> +<p class="list">Thraving—<i>thriving</i></p> +<p class="list">Thruff—<i>through</i></p> +<p class="list">Thunner—<i>thunder</i></p> +<p class="list">Tiv—<i>to</i></p> +<p class="list">Ton—<i>turn</i></p> +<p class="list">Toons—<i>towns</i></p> +<p class="list">Towght—<i>taught</i></p> +<p class="list">Treead—<i>trade</i></p> +<p class="list">Trimmel’d—<i>trembled</i></p> +<p class="list">Trist—<i>trust</i></p> +<p class="list">’Twad—<i>it would</i></p> +<p class="list">Twea—<i>two</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Ungker’d—<i>strange</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>Voo—<i>vow</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Wad—<i>would</i></p> +<p class="list">Waddn’t—<i>would not</i></p> +<p class="list">Wark—<i>work</i></p> +<p class="list">Warst—<i>worst</i></p> +<p class="list">Wean’t—<i>will not</i></p> +<p class="list">Weeap—<i>weep</i></p> +<p class="list">Weel—<i>well</i></p> +<p class="list">Wesh—<i>wash</i></p> +<p class="list">Wha—<i>who</i></p> +<p class="list">Whahl—<i>while</i></p> +<p class="list">Wheas—<i>who is, or whose</i></p> +<p class="list">Whooap—<i>hope</i></p> +<p class="list">Whoor—<i>where</i></p> +<p class="list">Winder—<i>window</i></p> +<p class="list">Winnut—<i>will not</i></p> +<p class="list">Wiv—<i>with</i></p> +<p class="list">Woak—<i>walk</i></p> +<p class="list">Woark—<i>work</i></p> +<p class="list">Wods—<i>words</i></p> +<p class="list">Wor—<i>were</i></p> +<p class="list">Woth—<i>worth</i></p> +<p class="list">Wrang—<i>wrong</i></p> +<p class="list">Wur—<i>our</i></p> +<p class="list">Wur—<i>was</i></p> + +<p class="listfirst">Yack—<i>oak</i></p> +<p class="list">Yah—<i>one</i></p> +<p class="list">Yan—<i>one</i></p> +<p class="list">Yance—<i>once</i></p> +<p class="list">Yer—<i>your</i></p> +<p class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></p> + + + + +<h2 class="gap4"><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX.</h2> + +<table class="simpletable" summary="Index of Poems"> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td class="smaller">Page.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Preface,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_v">5</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Awd Isaac, Part First,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">—— Part Second,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">—— His dying advice,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Dialogue on a Steeple Chase,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Lucky Dream,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">A strange effusion,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Lealholm Bridge,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Old Sam, or the effects of the Gospel,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Thoughts on Good Friday,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">To a withered flower,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The country Love Feast,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Ode to Britain,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">A voice from the dead,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">To the Moor birds in a storm,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Lines on returning a borrowed Stick,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The thunder storm,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Miser’s away,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Mistake,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The broken seal,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Stone!,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>To the rising Sun,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Lines in memory of the Rev. D. Duck,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">An elegy on the death of a beloved child,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">On the first text heard spiritually,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">To a Squirrel in a cage,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">To a bird singing in winter,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Petch’s Elegy,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Reflections on Petch’s tomb,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">“Who hath believed our report?”,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Bees,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Caution from Limber Hill,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The village church in ruins,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Poetical reflections,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The two hours’ task,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The country blunder,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">A sinner saved by grace,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The portion of the Just,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The happy choice,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">On the death of John Morley,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The servant’s address to his master,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Sabbath morning musings,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Lines on leaving Fryup,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Swallow,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">A call to the careless,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">To a horse, dying alone!,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Musings during affliction,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Play,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The remote Christian,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>Solitary reflections,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">On some who had left us,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">There is a God,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Confirmation,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The man of the world,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The rule of contrary,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">On finding some Deistical books, in the +house of one who once feared God,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">On visiting Fryup,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The Three Voices,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Dialogue between Rosedale Bob, and Hartoft John,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">A love letter,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Truth triumphant,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Reflections on a Backslider,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Village preaching,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">The lodger in Liverpool,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Edom,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Reflections on absent Friends,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Last Job of an old Tramp,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="indexpoem">Glossary,</td> +<td class="indexpage"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="width35" /> +<p class="center gap2"><i>Whitby: Printed by Horne and Richardson.</i></p> + +<div class="bbox padbox gap4"> +<p class="large center"><b>TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES</b></p> + +<p class="nomargtb">Page 23: Unnecessary opening “ as in original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 27: .! at end of verse as in original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 34: Closing ” has no associated opening “ in the original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 46: Opening “ has no associated closing ” in the original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 54: “ added before We all must</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 59: mispent as in the original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 70: expence as in the original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 148: bles'd as in the original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 174: Powr's corrected to Pow'rs (second instance)</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 175: &c, corrected to &c. in the last verse</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 186: Unnecessary opening “ as in original</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 190: flourish,d corrected to flourish'd</p> +<p class="nomargtb">Page 195: sowl corrected to soul</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and +other Poems, by John Castillo + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER 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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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and other Poems + With a glossary of the Yorkshire Dialect + +Author: John Castillo + +Release Date: February 14, 2011 [EBook #35287] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +Dialect has been retained. Printer's errors and corrections are +described at the end of the text. Underscores have been used to +mark _italic text_. + +Note that there is an index to the poems at the end of the text. + + + + +AWD ISAAC, + +THE STEEPLE CHASE, + +AND OTHER + +POEMS; + +WITH A GLOSSARY OF THE + +YORKSHIRE DIALECT: + +BY JOHN CASTILLO. + +WHITBY: +PUBLISHED BY HORNE & RICHARDSON. + +1843. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The Author of the following Poems prefixes a "Preface" to them, lest he +should seem to be wanting in respect to his readers, did he not comply +with a custom which is universal. In doing so, however, he would eschew +two kinds of Preface, viz: that in which the author arrogates to himself +the merit of having produced a work entirely _new_, both in subject, and +in manner of expression, and on that score claims the plaudits of his +friends and the public;--and that in which the author professes to feel +himself inadequate to the task of composing a book, but at the pressing +solicitation of his friends, with great distrust of his abilities for +such a work, he yields to their entreaties, and pleads his inability in +mitigation of the critic's wrath. With respect to the former, the writer +of the present volume professes not to offer to his readers any thing +_new_, either as to matter, or to language; and as to the latter, the +following pieces were most of them composed several years ago, at +distant intervals of time, and were frequently perused by his friends +long before he had thoughts of publishing them:--the character of his +poetry is therefore pretty well known to those who are likely to become +purchasers of his book; and it would be but a bungling apology did he +attempt to shelter its defects under the plea of inability for his task. + +It will be unnecessary to say much of the subjects sung of in the +following poems. Though they are various, the author hopes they will all +be found to contain a moral, which, if acted upon in common life, would +direct the conduct to a beneficial end. Many of them are founded on +facts which occurred in the writer's neighbourhood, and which he has +endeavoured to turn to a useful purpose. Others are of an experimental +cast, and are the breathings of the poet's heart when inflamed by Love +Divine! It has been his constant aim to exhibit the workings of grace in +the heart, its effects on the life, and the glorious futurity to which +it conducts its possessor. For this purpose, he has seized on a variety +of incidents known to many of his friends, which have furnished him with +matter on which to graft a spiritual thought. Life in its spring tide, +or when ebbing in death, home with its simple yet hallowed joys, a +religious assembly rapt in devotion and love, a landscape endeared by +the associations of youth or of kindred, a dilapidated church, a +withering flower, a text of scripture--have supplied him with +topics;--and he trusts that the doctrines which he has inculcated in +connection with them will always be found to agree with the Word of God. + +Of the "Dialect" in which some of the pieces are composed, the author +deems it necessary to say a few words. It is well known that every +county in England has its peculiarities of expression and pronunciation. +These peculiarities, though often unintelligible to persons brought up +at a distance, are yet the native language of the common inhabitants; +and there is, in their estimation, a point and power in them, which are +not to be found in more polished periods. The author has availed himself +of the dialect of his native county to convey to a particular class of +persons some important truths, which may, perhaps, be more welcomely +received because clad in that garb. There may, indeed, appear to +delicate ears, a rudeness approaching to barbarism, in the dialect which +he has employed; but what is wanting in polish, will, in the estimation +of those for whom he writes, be more than compensated by force and +vigour. Truth is truth--however humble the habiliments in which it is +dressed: nor does it come with less power to the heart because conveyed +in language with which those for whom it was intended are familiar. +Indeed, there is in that very _familiarity_ something which arrests the +attention and affects the heart. Of the correctness of this view, the +author has many times seen proof, in the interest with which some of the +pieces in the dialect have been listened to, by persons whose education +being limited they could not perhaps have appreciated the beauties of +polished verse, but were at once arrested and delighted when the artless +tale was narrated in their mother tongue. To make this part of the work +as complete as possible, great care has been used to render the +orthography correct: published specimens of the Dialect have been +consulted, as well as living authorities, and no pains have been spared +that could contribute to make it complete both to the eye and to the +ear. A difference of orthography may occasionally appear, caused by the +necessity of making a rhyme;--excepting a few rare instances of this +kind, a standard has been adopted which has not been departed from. For +the assistance of those who are unacquainted with the dialect of the +North Riding of Yorkshire, a copious glossary is appended to the work, +by reference to which the meaning of any unknown term or phrase will at +once be seen. + +The author prays that the blessing of God may accompany his work! + + + + +AWD ISAAC. + +(PART FIRST.) + + + Yah neeght as Ah went heeame fra' wark, + A lahtle bit afoore 'twur dark, + Quite blithe an' cheerful as a lark, + Ah thowght me-sel; + Ah sat me doon, te rist a bit, + At top o't' hill. + + Fooaks just wur turnin oot ther ky;-- + A lahtle plain awd man com by;-- + "Cum set ye doon, gud frind," sez I, + "An' rist yer legs;" + He'd beean a bit o' floor te buy, + An' twea'r three eggs. + + Ah fand him varry fain te stop;-- + His staff he set up as a prop;-- + His hooary heead he lifted up, + An' thus compleean'd:-- + (Sum fragments ov a gud like feeace, + Ther still remeean'd.) + + "Yoo see," sez he, "mah deear young frind, + Mah travel's ommost at an end; + Wi' age mah back begins te bend, + An' white's mah hair; + Ov this warld's griefs, yoo may depend, + Ah'v hed mah share." + + His teeal tho' simple, it wur grand, + An' varry gud te understand,-- + His stick steead up aboon his hand, + T'awd fashion'd way; + His cooat an' hat wur wether tann'd, + A duffil gray. + + "Ah think," sez Ah, "'at Scriptur sez, + Gray hairs is honorable dress, + If they be fund i'reeghteousness, + By faith obtain'd; + An' think, by what yer leeaks express, + That praaze yoo've gain'd. + + Wi' age it izzen't gud te jooak, + An'ts ommost ower warm te woak, + Sit doon, an' hev a bit o' tawk, + O' things 'at's past; + Awd men like yoo, hez seeaf beeath heeard + An' seen a vast." + + "A vast Ah hev beeath heeard an' seen, + An' felt misfotten's arrows keen, + As yoo remark, whahl Ah hev beean + On this life's stage; + It's sike a varry changin scene, + Fra' yooth te age. + + Hoo great, an' yet hoo feeble's man, + His life at langest's bud a span;" + His history be thus began, + Wi' teears te tell; + An' if yer ears be owght like maane, + 'Twill pleease ye weel. + + "Lang sin' Ah lost mah wife," sez he, + "Which wur a heavy cross te me; + An' then mah sun teeak off tot' sea, + A fine young man, + An' Ah neea mare his feeace mun see, + It's ten te yan. + + Ah happen'd te be off yah day, + A kind ov sweetheart, as they say, + Com in an' teeak mah lass away, + Wi' hoosin stuff; + An' noo, poor thing, she's deead, they say, + A lang way off. + + It's noo neen yeear, an' gaain i'ten, + Sin' Ah at t'bark wood joined sum men, + 'Twur theer Ah fell an' leeam'd me-sen, + I' spite o' care; + Ah wur foorc'd te gie up theer an' then, + An' woark ne mare. + + Bud t'neeaburs hez beean varry gud, + Or else lang sin' Ah'd stuck i't' mud, + An' seea throo them an' t'help o' God, + Ah gits mah breead; + An' whooap they'll be rewarded for't, + When Ah's law leead. + + Bud seein all mah cumforts gooan, + Ah didden't knaw what way te ton, + Then Ah began te sigh an' mooan, + Beeath neeght an' day; + Ah bowght a Baable, an' began + Te reead an' pray. + + An' as Ah reead, an' as Ah preea'd, + Ah thowght it thunner'd ower mah heead, + An' offens Ah' wur sadly flay'd + Wi' dismal noises, + Sumtaames i' bed Ah thowght Ah heeard + Some ungkerd voices. + + A preeacher chanc'd te cum this way, + Ah'v cause te ivver bless the day, + Kind Providence leead me that way + This man te heear; + Ah, like a sheep, had geean astray + For monny a yeear. + + He sed 'twur t'luv o' Christ cumpell'd him, + Bud seean as ivver Ah beeheld him, + Ah thowght 'at sum kind frind hed tell'd him + All mah heart; + For ivv'ry word, like arrows pointed, + Meead it smart. + + Ah thowght, till then, 'at Ah wur reeght, + Bud he set mah sins all i'mah seeght, + At last Ah fell doon at his feet + Wi' solid grief; + Ah thowght Ah sud ha' deead afoore + Ah fund relief. + + Ah reeally thowght, if yoo'll beleeave me, + 'At hell wur oppen te receeave me, + Sum sed the Lord wad seean releeave me, + He wur mah keeper; + Bud all they sed did nowght but greeave me, + An' cut me deeper. + + Ah dreeaded th' Almighty's froon, + An' wander'd greeatin up an' doon, + Nowther i't' coontry nor i't' toon + Neea rist Ah fand; + Mah sins, like stars, did me surroon', + Or heeaps o' sand. + + Then varry seean t'repoort wur rais'd, + An' all roond t'village it wur blaz'd, + Awd Isaac, he wur gangin craz'd + An' nowght seea seer; + Mah cottage then for days an' days + Neea sowl com near. + + At thowghts ov ivverlastin pains, + An' bein bund iv endless chains, + Mah bleead, like ice, ran thruff mah veins + Wi' shivrin dreead; + Ah cudden't sleep, an' Ah forgat + Te eat mah breead. + + At last this gud man com ageean, + For which mah heart wur glad an' fain, + Just like a thorsty land for rain, + Ah sat quite neear him; + Whahl ivv'ry organ ov mah sowl, + Wur bent te heear him. + + Bud seean as Ah his sarmon heeard, + A still small voice mah sperits cheear'd, + An' Ah, that varry neeght wur meeade, + A happy man; + Te praaze the Lord wi' all mah heart, + Ah then began. + + Ah knew He hed mah sins forgeean, + Whahl Ah hed in His prisance beean, + An' that His bleead cud wesh me cleean, + An' white as snaw, + An' mack me fit wi' Him te reen + Whahl heer belaw. + + Sin' then, i' all mah conflicts heer, + Ah flees te Him wi' faith an' preear, + An' He, in marsey, lends an eear. + Thruff his deear Son; + An' this is t'way, wi' whooap an' feear, + Ah travels on. + + Oft, when Ah thus draws neear te Him, + He macks mah een wi' teears te swim, + Then fills mah heart quite up te t' brim + Wi' t'luv o' God; + An' when Ah gets mare faith i' Him, + Ah hods mah hod. + + Sumtaames Ah'v hed yon beck te swim, + An' monny a time this hill te clim, + Wi' heavy heart an' weeary lim' + An' sweeaty broo; + Bud all 'at ah can trist Him in, + He helps me throo. + + In all the straits ov life, sez he, + Hooivver bare mah cubburt be, + Wi' broon breead crust, an' woormwood tea, + Or even gall, + Whereivver Ah finnds Christ te be, + He sweet'ns all. + + Mah neeaburs all, Ah deearly luv 'em, + An' oft Ah's foorc'd for t'repruv 'em + Te seek the Lord Ah tries te muv 'em, + Wi' heart sincere, + Bud t'answers oft 'at Ah gets frev em, + 'S quite severe. + + Ah'v oft felt sorry te me-sel, + Beeath greeav'd an' sham'd the truth te tell, + When Ah hev heeard oor awd kirk bell + Ring in te preear; + Ah's flay'd 'at sum 'll hear't i' hell + Upbreead 'em theer. + + They'll sit or lig upon ther deead, + An' tawk aboot all kinds o' treead, + An' laff, an' lee, quite undismay'd, + Till they've rung in; + Sike fooaks te t' warld thay're owther wed, + Or neear akin. + + Sum sez ther priest's a stumlin block, + He nivver leeads 'em on te t' rock, + Like thooase 'at mends a threead-bare frock + Wi' a new piece, + He cares bud lahtle for his flock, + If he gets t'fleece. + + Bud oors, he is a Christian breeght, + He preeaches Christ wiv all his meeght, + Fills each beleeaver wiv deleeght, + 'At gangs te heear him; + An' therefoore ov his people's bleead + The truth 'll clear him. + + Ah'v heeard him tell 'em pat an' plain, + 'At they mun all be boorn again, + Or suffer ivverlastin pain, + I' t'warld te cum; + Bud if they'll flee te Christ i' time, + For all ther's rum. + + I'th' pulpit or i' conversation, + He's awlus on for t'sowl's salvation, + Wi' kind reproof or exhoortation. + Or coonsel sweet; + An' thooase 'at follows his persuasion, + They'll be reeght. + + Ther's sum 'at sez, bud they're misteean, + When they're babtized they're boorne ageean; + Just heer they miss t' fundation steean, + An' beelds o't' sand; + An' they've neea dreead, till t'hoose is doon + Bud it 'll stand. + + Ah's flay'd," sez he, "ift' truth wur knawn, + Ther's monny a precious soul o'erthrawn, + For that gud seed 'at he hez sawn + Wi'oot effect; + Bud bleeam for ivver is ther awn, + Thruff sad neglect. + + Ah'v seen yoong men, an' women too, + An' men wi' hair all off ther broo, + Afoore he's reead his lesson throo, + 'S beean fast asleep; + Whahl others 'at far better knew + 'S beean seen te weep. + + They'll rock an' riggle like a ship, + Till sum kind frind gies them a nip, + Or wakken'd up wi' t'saxton's whip, + Or others' coughing; + Then, mebby, when they've rubb'd their een, + They'll start a laffin. + + Sum's liv'd te three or fower skoor, + An' lang time heer's had rulin pow'r, + They've woorn deep tracks across 'at moor, + Wi' constant gangin; + Bud still, all t'whahl, for this warld's loore, + Ther heearts wur langin. + + Thersels they've nivver fairly seen, + They've nivver knawn ther sins forgeean, + Tho' monny a time ther prayers hev beean + As lood as t'clark; + And thof they've hed twea pair of een, + They've deed i't' dark. + + Ther's sum 'at neeame o' Christian beears, + An's hed that neeame for monny yeears, + 'At's berreed ow'r t'heead an' t'eears, + I' warldly care; + An' oft at kirk, we've cause te feear, + They market theer. + + Ah wur at a sarten hoose yah day, + An' t'awd man tiv his son did say, + If all be weel, thoo mun away, + Te moorn te t' kirk, + An' try te git oor wreeghts next week, + Te cum te woark. + + An' Tommy, he's i' sike a tackin, + 'At cooat 'll spoil for want o' mackin, + If t' tailor's theer, thoo mun be at him, + Te cum an' all; + That's weel contrav'd, an' then yah thrang, + 'Ll deea for all. + + Thoo needn't stop te gang roond t' farm, + Bud mun be theer i' reeght gud taame, + Or mebby, if thoo dizzen't maand, + Thoo'll loss thy chance; + Ther's sumtaames three or fower at him, + All at yance. + + It's ower far te gang a-feeat, + An' if 't be warm thoo's seer te sweeat, + Thee Moother, she'll deea nowght bud freeat, + Seea tak awd Dragon; + An' tell him he mun cum next week. + An' mend oor waggon. + + Then if ye chance i't' coorse o't' weeak, + O't' Sunday's subject for te speeak, + You'll finnd awd memory seea weeak, + It's all forgitten; + Thus wounded sowls 'at's beean hawf heeal'd + T'awd sarpent's bitten. + + That skull 'at's moolded green an' gray, + T'awd saxton dug up t'other day, + Knaws varry neear as mitch as thay + O't' Sunday's sarmon; + Yoo may as weel o't' subject tawk + Te sum awd Jarman. + + That poor awd man's noo deead an' geean, + Tis hard te say what way he's teean, + 'At used te stand ageean t'funt steean, + Te tack fooaks watches; + Whahl careless lads i't' singin pew + Wur cuttin natches. + + An' seea for want o' cultivation, + They shuffle on withoot salvation, + A vast, Ah's flay'd, 's o' this perswasion, + Beeath yoong an' awd; + Te be forgeean they ha' neea nooation, + Till deead an' cawd. + + Bud they'll finnd oot afoore't be lang, + 'At they've all t' taame beean sadly wrang, + Ther wills may then be ower strang, + Te breeak or bend; + An' noo they say they're ower thrang, + They can't attend. + + I' summer taame they'll leeave t'awd nest, + An' driss up i' ther varry best, + An' gallop off alang wi' t'rest, + Te t' fair or reeaces; + A vast gits what they nivver kest + At sike like pleeaces. + + Ther's sum gets theer wi' wooden legs on, + An' monny poor awd men wi' wigs on, + Just sarvs t'yoong fooaks te run ther rigs on, + A fine example, + Whahl doon i't' dust ther poor awd lims + Sumtaames they trample. + + Ther's sum can nowther sit nor lig, + Aboot t'election they're seea big, + They say they're Britons, rump an' rig, + Bud whea can trist 'em, + When, frev a Toory tiv a Whig, + A glass 'll twist 'em? + + Ther's others rayther shoat o' seeght, + Fort' seeak o' twea'r three sovrens breeght, + Gies in ther vooat, an' thinks it reeght, + Te t' Roman stranger; + Then others pleeaster up i't' street, + "_The Church in danger!_" + + An' seea they yan prevent another, + Wi' drinking, politics, an' bother, + Thof t' best ov all can't seeave his bruther, + Nor ransom him; + That spark 'at's left they try te smuther, + Wi' stratigem. + + As for thooase Methodeys, they say, + They mack seea varry mitch te deea, + Ther's sum wad deea nowght else bud pray + An' reead, an' preeach, + Till they git all meead Methodeys, + Within ther reeach. + + Bud ther wur neean o' this amaze, + I' neean ov oor foore elder's days, + Thof ther gud deeds an' honest prayers, + An' pious reeadins, + Hez beean, neea doot, as gud as theers, + Wiv all ther meetins. + + Te see 'em doon o' beeath ther knees, + I' kirk, or field, or under trees, + Wi' brokken hearts an' teearful ees, + Wur quite uncommon; + An' if they hevn't deed i' t' faith, + Then what's cum'd on 'em. + + Te preeach 'em all geean doon te hell, + It is a dreeadful teeal te tell, + An' we mun wiv oor kindred dwell, + Seea we, like them, + Will on life's ooacean tak oor chance, + An' sink or swim. + + They mack sike wark amang yoong fooaks, + They breeak up all oor jovial spooarts, + They thin oor ranks, an' storm oor pooarts + Wi' strange confusion; + Ther's nowght bud we mun cry't all doon, + A mere delusion. + + Bud us 'at seldum hev attended, + They deeant git us seea eeasy mended, + An awd stiff yack 's nut eeasy bended, + That's varry true; + Bud thooase 'at winnut bend yoo see, + Mun breeak i' noo. + + They trifle on fra' yeear te yeear, + Like watches woorn oot ov repair, + Thof if they wad, its varry cleear, + They mud be mended; + Bud they perceeave neea danger neear, + Till life is ended. + + Awd Satan seea pollutes the maund, + They winnut stooap te t' means desaun'd. + Till t' hair spring gits wi't mainspring twain'd, + An seea hard curl'd, + They're foorc'd away te git refined + I' t'other warld. + + He leeads sum on like mountebanks, + As straight as thof they ran on planks, + An' tells 'em, i' ther jovial pranks, + He'll nut deceeave 'em;-- + Then oft on Jordan's stormy banks, + Ther cumforts leeave 'em. + + He leeads sum on another way, + An' whispers tiv 'em neeght an' day, + 'At they need nowther reead nor pray, + They've deean nowght wrang; + An' if they hev, he'll set it reeght, + Afoore 't be lang, + + Ther's others oft beean in alarm, + Bud Felix like, when t'heart wur warm, + Hez sed, "Go, an' sum other taame, + Ah'll send for thee;" + When they that taame, they didden't knaw + Mud ivver see. + + They rob thersels o' ther awn reeght, + They reeally winnut cum te t' leeght, + Lest o' ther sins they git a seeght, + An' sud be seeav'd; + An' be ov all ther plissures sweet, + At yance bereeav'd. + + Till deep sunk doon i' t' burning leeake + They then begin te feear an' queeake, + Where vengeance can neea pity teeake, + Which theer hez sent 'em, + An' furious feeinds i' horrid sheeape, + Mun theer torment 'em. + + They leeak for sum yan te deliver, + Bud theer they'll finnd neea cumfort nivver, + Theer they may weeap an' wail for ivver, + Ther harvest's past; + Ther summer's ended, refuge fails 'em, + An' they're lost. + + Ther dreeadful doom an' destiny, + Let us git all we can te flee, + By preeachin Christ where'er we be, + I' deead an' word, + Till all oor frinds ther folly see, + An' ton te God. + + "Ah beean i' t' way noo seeaven yeear," + An' as he spak, a briny teear + Ran doon his cheeks as crystal cleear, + Fra' owther ee; + "Thenk God, Ah feeal whahl Ah sit heer, + 'Tis weel wi' me. + + Bud neeght is cummin on ameean, + An't leeaks as if 'twur boon te reean, + Or else mah stoory's nut hawf deean, + 'At Ah'v te tell; + Bud mebby we may meeat ageean, + Till then, farewell!" + + Tho' he hed all thooase sorrows booarn, + Compozur in each feeature shooan, + Thof he'd te woark and live alooan, + Fra' day te day; + Ah wish'd his keease hed been mah awn, + An' com away. + + + + +AWD ISAAC. + +(PART SECOND.) + +TO WHICH IS ADDED, + +HIS DYING ADVICE. + + + Oft hev Ah lang'd yon hill te clim, + Te hev a bit mare prooase wi' him, + Wheas coonsel like a pleeasin dreeam, + Is deear te me; + Sin' roond the warld sike men as he + Seea few ther be. + + Corrupted bukes he did detest, + For his wur ov the varry best; + This meead him wiser than the rest + O' t' neeaburs roond, + Tho' poor i' t' purse, wi' senses blest, + An' judgment soond. + + Befoore the silvery neeght ov age, + The precepts ov the sacred page, + His meditation did engage, + That race te run; + Like thooase, who 'spite o' Satan's rage, + The praaze hed won. + + Bud noo his een's geean dim i' deeath, + Neea mare a pilgrim here on eearth, + His sowl flits fra' her shell beneeath, + Te reealms o' day, + Whoor carpin care, an' pain, an' deeath, + Are deean away. + + Wi'oot the author's neeame or leeave, + They'd put his stoory thruff the sieve, + An' roond his circuit set the screeve + O' justice keen, + Fra' crotchet cramp, or semibreeve, + Te sift him cleean. + + The charge 'at they ageenst him bring,-- + He harps teea mitch upon yah string, + Or triumphs like a lahtle king, + Ow'r fashions gay; + He's ower religious!--That's the thing + They meean te say. + + Yet still Awd Isaac tells his teeal, + Ower monny a weeary hill an' deeal, + An' 'll sumtaames into cities steeal, + Nor silent be; + Till infants try te lisp his theeame + Across the sea. + + Oor last, an' lasting interview, + His wonted theeame he did renew, + Fra' which, a paraphrase he drew, + An' thus began, + I' conversation clear, an' frindship true, + Like man te man. + + "Ah lahtle thowght, as weel thoo knaws, + Thoo te t' public wad expooase, + Mah awd gray cooat, wi' all its flaws, + An' stick an' all, + For want o' which, the aged prood + Seea offens fall. + + Ah varry leeatly gat a hint, + They'd put oor stoory into prent, + An' copies roond the coontry sent + Beeath left and reeght; + Bud if 'twur deean wi' gud intent, + Gud luck gang wi' 't. + + Noo all Ah sed wur meeant for gud, + If it wur reeghtly understud; + Te sum neea doot, t'language wud + Seeam quite abrupt;-- + We're all alike, ov flesh and bleead, + An' hearts corrupt. + + Fooaks oft leeaks mare at bleead an' breedin, + Than at t'subject they are reeadin, + An' thus awd prejudice is feedin, + I' system's narrow, + For want o' pains te crack the beean + Th'oft miss t'marrow. + + Men still i' spite ov all oor caution, + 'Ll hanker efter heeigh promotion; + Like Evan's Pills, or Rowland's Lotion + Saain'd by t'King; + We're seea inclin'd te self-devotion-- + That's the thing.! + + T' Naation still seeams discontent, + Ther's strange debeeates i' parliament, + Petitions on petitions sent + Theer, all implorin; + An' sum i' dungeons deep lament + Whahl they're snoorin. + + Still ower t'land t'clood hangs dull, + An' we may thrust, an' they may pull; + Wi' "Eys an' Nooas" the paper's full, + Wi' applause an' laughter: + An' all the gud for poor John Bull + 'S te cum hereafter. + + Still let us calmly wait the end, + On God, an' nut on man, depend. + Oor Nation's woond is bad te mend, + Ommost incurable! + His Israel he will still defend, + Wi' kindness durable. + + Bud numbers streeangely hev backslidden, + An' deean thooase things 'at wur forbidden, + An' caused His feeace for te be hidden, + By actions fowl, + Till scarce a ray ov whooap is left + Te cheer the sowl. + + T'coonsel Ah wad recommend + Is all te strave ther lives te mend, + An' persevere unto the end + I' word an' deed. + An' thooase 'll nivver want a Frind + I' t' taame o' need. + + Bud Ah mun cut mah stoory shoort, + Or it may mack the critics spoort, + Oor subject's ov too greeave a soort + Te dwell upon. + Afoore ye spreead yer next repoort, + Ah sal be geean. + + For sin' we met an' pearted last, + Ah finnd mah strenth decreeasing fast, + Like floor's beneeath the Nowthern blast, + Yance fresh an' gay, + Seea man is doom'd te droop an' waste, + An' fade away. + + Ah wad befoore Ah tack mah leave, + Te all, mah deein coonsel give, + An' if i' the truth they deea beleeave + Or apprehend, + That truth, whahl Ah'v a day te live + _Ah will defend_." + + + + +HIS DYING ADVICE. + + + When Eden's floory garden smiled, + Nor Eve the Sarpent hed beguil'd, + Man stood upreeght an' undefiled + I' maand an' feeature, + An' sweetest conversation held + Wi' his Creator. + + Bud when that awful monster sin + Hed gain'd its ugly entrance in + The warld, oor sorrows did begin; + Then Heaven froond, + An' t' glitt'ring swoord o' Justice gleeam'd + On all aroond. + + Sin spreead destruction wide, an' seean + Grim deeath began his feearful reign;-- + Satan wi' lees an' malice keen + Went teea an' fraw, + The frail, the noble sons o' men + Te owerthraw. + + Bud the Almighty sent his aid, + Enoch an' Abraham obey'd, + An' Noah, Job, an' Daniel pray'd, + An' Gideon too; + An' mighty fooas throo mighty faith + They did subdue. + + Then ancient Israel's altar's blazed, + An' solemn congregations gazed, + An' Holy men ther voices raaized, + An' trumpets soonded. + Then heathen armies stood amazed, + An' wur confoonded. + + Then Joshua congker'd i' the vale, + An' gud Elijah did prevail;-- + The wicked worshippers o' Baal + He owerthrew, + An' showed te them the living God + An' only true. + + An' while the sacrifice was pure, + Destruction com nut neegh ther door; + I' moont or tent they wur secure + By neeght or day; + Whahl thraving groups o' flocks an' herds, + Aroond 'em lay. + + They towght an' showed ther childer hoo + Ther Fathers kept ther solemn voo, + When the Almighty leead 'em throo + The desert land; + An' hoo thooase fell 'at wad nut boo + Te His command. + + An' seea sud we oor childer teeach, + An' i' ther ears gud doctrine preeach, + Befoore corrupt ideas reeach + The tender maand; + An' when they up te manhood graw, + The gud they'll finnd. + + Ey, tell 'em whea the sarpent stung, + Hoo Moses an' hoo Deborah sung, + An' hoo the Holy Hebrews yoong + Did walk throo fire; + An' try te tune ther infant tongues + Te David's lyre. + + Remind 'em ov a Saviour's love, + Leearn 'em the way God will approve, + Te pray, an' fix ther thowghts above + Eearth's fleeting joys, + Which at ther best, when tried 'll proov, + Bud empty toys. + + Consult the worthies ov' each age, + Wheas lives are doon i't' sacred page, + Nor rest till all the heart engage + Like them i' feight. + Then we like them oor hostile fooas, + Sal put te flight. + + Te us they as examples stand, + As guide-poosts in a weeary land, + Or like seea monny beeacons grand, + On mountains heeigh, + Te shoo the way Jehovah's plann'd; + Or deeanger neeigh. + + Bud men graw noo seea warldly wise, + Seea prooan te vanity an' lies, + T'best o' coonsel they'll despise, + Seea queer they live, + They'll scarce a proper question ax, + Or answer give. + + Mankind i' gen'ral can espy, + The mooat 'at's in anoother's eye, + An' big an' busy as Paul Pry, + 'Ll mark it doon;-- + It helps fra' silly passers by + Te hide ther awn. + + Theer's numbers seeams o' t' better soort, + Aroond oor chapels still resoort, + An' o' convarsion mack a spoort, + An' sins forgeean, + An' at the truly pious shoot, + Ther arrows keen. + + Bud the Almighty sees ther ways, + An' thof he lenthens oot ther days, + An' his just rath he noo delays, + 'Tis seer te cum; + The stootest o' the human race, + Mun meet ther doom. + + Ey, when ther jolly days are spent, + If they i' taame deea nut repent, + They'll seerly doon te hell be sent + Te revell theer, + Te curse, an' fooam, an' pay ther rint + I' black despair. + + Freeat nut thysel when thoo doast see + The wicked i' prosperity, + Te floorish like a green bay tree, + Or cedar tall; + He like a leeaf, by firm decree, + Mun feeade an' fall! + + Consider thoo what hez beean sed, + An' o' ther threeats be nut afraaid, + Beware lest thoo sud be betray'd + By ther deceit;-- + An' t'Lord gie thee, an' nut upbreead, + His Sperit's leeght!" + + The coontry's all anxiety, + Te knaw Awd Isaac's pedigree, + An' sum cry oot 'tis all a lee, + A meead up thing;-- + Te sike we think it nut woth whahl, + Oor proofs te bring. + + For all that wish te knaw--may read, + The sum an' substance ov his creed;-- + May catch, an' saw the lahtle seed + Wi' greeat success. + Bud whoor he liv'd, or whoor he deed, + 'Tis left te guess. + + + + +DIALOGUE ON A STEEPLE CHASE + +AT P******NG, IN YORKSHIRE. + + +_Joe._--Weel Jim, hoo deea lad? What's t' news? + Which side is thoo on? Pinks or Blues? + Heer's sike a mighty stir i' t' nation, + 'Tis woth a lahtle conversation. + Ah want te knaw, is't reeght or wrang;-- + Unless thah nerves is varry strang, + Ah hev a paper i' mah pocket, + 'Ll lift thah heart oot ov its socket! + +_Jim._--A paper Joe! What is 't aboot, + Sum munney matter, ther's neea doot! + Sum Methodey or Ranter bother, + Or sum Tee-total thing or other. + Yan scarce can pass alang a street, + Bud sum sike like yan's seer te meet, + Whea'd ommost sweear 'at black is white, + Te gain anoother proselyte, + +_Joe._--A munney matter 'tis o' coorse, + Fra' quite an opposition soorce, + For by the Liverpool Recorder, + 'Tis mare o' the Succession order: + For it is sed by snug repoort, + Religious fooaks hev geen 't support. + That which we noo te nooatice bring, + Ist' Steeple Chase at P******ng. + +_Jim._--Whah Joe, thoo's neean o' t' warst o' fellows, + Cum sit thee doon a piece an' tell us, + If thoo sud think it neea disgrace, + Aboot this mighty Steeple Chase; + Ov hoo, an' when, an' whoor they run, + For honour, munney, or for fun. + Thoo's just geen me an itchin eear, + Aboot the thing Ah wish'd te heear. + +_Joe._--Thoo sees upon a sarten day, + Ah hennut seen, but heeard 'em say; + Greeat gentlemen hev hosses treean'd, + Fra' lofty pedigree obteean'd, + Seea full o' bleead, an' queerly towght, + Te gallop thruff or ower owght: + All muster at a sarten pleeace, + An' this they call the Steeple Chase. + A purse o' Gold they then present, + An' word is thruff the coontry sent, + For fower mahle, Ah think they run, + An' he 'at beeats,--the steeaks his awn. + Sum breeaks ther necks, wi' missin bridges, + An' sum gits stuck, wi' jumpin hedges. + Ey, te confarm t' truth Ah sing, + They kill'd a hoss at P******ng. + +_Jim._--Wha Joe, thoo quite supprises me, + Te think 'at men ov heeigh degree, + Sud reeally hev neea mare respect + For owther men's or hosses necks. + +_Joe._--A boss is nowght i' sike a keease! + Bairn! sowls is nowght at t' Steeple Chase! + They for a trifle swap an' sell 'em, + An' t' parsons hezzen't sense te tell 'em. + T' Steeple Chase is suted quite, + Te glut t' carnal appetite. + Thooase whea ther Baable love, an' preear, + 'Ll finnd bud bareish picking theer. + +_Jim._--Maund Joe, thoo izzen't ower severe, + An' 'at thah coonsel be sincere. + The Law hez monny curious links, + Man mooan't speeak awlus as he thinks. + Thof Ah me-sel feel shock'd te think, + Men sud seea rush on ruin's brink: + Mitch mare te be encouraged in, + What mun be a presumptuous sin. + +_Joe._--The mare Ah see this standard reeas'd, + The mare an' mare Ah stand ameeaz'd + Te think 'at parsons cannut see't, + An' tell 'em pleean it izzen't reeght! + 'At men sike tidings sud procleeam, + An' thooase 'at beear t'Christian neeame + I' spite ov all divine advice, + Te sanction sike a sweepin vice. + +_Jim._--Whativver be t'satisfaction, + It hez a woonderful attraction; + An' macks 'em freely use ther shanks, + 'Specially them o' t' heeigher ranks, + Fra' Scarbro', Malton, York, an' Leeds, + They cum on lofty mounted steeds, + Ower dazzlin ommost te behold, + Wi' silver'd whips, an' cheeans o' gold. + Theer's bands o' music, colours flying, + Hams, an' legs o' mutton frying, + Nimble waiters on the wing, + Te see 'em drink, an' hear 'em sing, + Ther's gamlin teeables, orange stalls, + Ther's spices, nuts, an' dancin dolls. + All things te sute the carnal taste, + May just be foond at t' Steeple Chase. + +_Joe._--Thooase men hes gitten 't i' ther power + Regardless o' the sufferin poor, + Te gallop ower hedge an' dyke, + An' deea an' say, just what they like. + An' all the while they run these rigs, + An' sing, an' drink, an' dance ther jigs, + They'll booast o' noble ancestry, + An' mighty steeple pedigree! + If onny wish the cause te knaw, + Whah they are able te deea seea,-- + "'Tis munney macks the meer te gang, + Macks wrang seeam reeght, an' reeght seeam wrang." + +_Jim._--The thing sud be te them meead knawn, + Ther gold an' silver's nut ther awn. + Ther cattle they abuse an' kill, + Belangs to t'Lord o' Zion's hill. + They sud be warn'd i' ivvery pleeace, + Te gie up sike like wicked ways. + Or seer as theer's a God aboon, + They'll pull ther awn destruction doon. + +_Joe._--They hev been warn'd an' hev refus'd, + Whahl thooase gud things they hev abus'd; + By which abuse they breeak God's Law, + An' that he'll sum day let 'em knaw. + This maks 'em breeathe pernicious breeath, + An' swagger on the verge o' deeath, + Whahl oothers--rayther than control, + 'Ll breeak ther necks, an' loss ther sowl. + +_Jim._--A man tell'd me by way o' jooak, + Bud kind o' trimmel'd as he spooak, + They'd Doctors pleeaced wi'in a shoot, + Te slip necks in, 'at gat slipt oot.[A] + +_Joe._--It's awful booastin this indeed,-- + Bad sample o' beeath fruit an' seed. + Sike may upbraad the warld wi' sizm, + It is next deer te Socialism. + Sike booastin they will sum day rue, + If we admit the Baable true. + All thooase mun pass a mighty change, + Afoore the happy hills they range!-- + Bud tiv oor teeal let us ton back, + Lest we get farther fra' oor track. + The day arrives, the smiling sun, + Procleeams the Steeple Chase begun. + On eeager eears the tumult steeals, + Ov prancin steeds, an' rumblin wheels. + It wur a day ov winks an' nods, + Ov lofty deeds, an' lofty wods. + As thof they hed for ther defence! + The thunner ov Omnipotence! + T' fooaks com rowlin in by skoors, + Fra' neeab'rin toons, an' off o' t' moors. + Like cloods ov locusts in they hale, + Fra' Goadland, Sleights, an' Harwood Dale. + 'Tis seerly sum enchanted string, + That does sike croods tegither bring. + Like bees, they roond the steeple swarm, + In it they likely see neea harm. + +_Jim._--Neea harm! What harm, Joe, can there be, + I' seeing sike a rarity:-- + Ov men an' hosses heeighly fed, + Wi' priests an' squires at ther head; + Ov gentlemen, an' ladies gay, + As bonny as the floors i' May. + Theer riches, yooth, an' beauty shine, + Array'd i' silk, an' superfine. + An' farmers' maidens, yoong an' fair, + We wonder hoo they've taame te spare; + Wi' lads ov manners rough an' rude, + All mixing i' yah multitude. + An' poor awd men, 'at scarce can blaw, + Wi' beards an' whiskers white as snaw; + Sad sample ov oor fallen race, + All rollin up to t' Steeple Chase. + An' farmers' sarvants leeave ther pleugh, + Callin ther maister black an' blue, + Whea for ther credit an' ther neeame, + Hed coonsel'd them te stay at heeame. + Ah met 'em as Ah com alang, + (They wonder'd whah Ah waddn't gang,) + Wi' roosy cheeks, an' shoothers brooad, + Bettin weagers up o' t' rooad. + Ther leeaks an' words at yance declare, + Ther treasure an' ther hearts are theer. + If yah contrary sentence drop, + That mooth they quickly try te stop. + When roond the splendid stand they meet, + 'Twad deea a blinnd man gud te see't; + Besaads the men's seea faanly drist! + The Steeple Chase,--whah whea wad miss't? + +_Joe._--Fra' furst te last it is desaun'd, + Te pleease an' fascinate the maand; + Te lift it, as on eagle's wings, + An' draave off thowghts o' better things. + The stewards full o' wardly wit, + Pronoonce 'at all things noo are fit, + When thoosands then roll up te see, + As drawn by Steeple witchery. + Fra' whence they cum, or whoor they dwell, + If yoo've a paper it 'll tell. + Ye ken the horses whea's they are, + By t' colours 'at ther riders wear. + Thus whether i' the rooad or noa, + Wi' whip an' spur away they goa; + Ower hedge an' dyke,--there's nowght can stop 'em, + Unless an angry God unprop em. + Thus riding ower grass, or coorn + 'Ats growin,--or 'ats leeatly sown, + There's neean dare lift a hand, or say, + What hev ye deean, or whea's te pay, + Whahl oaths profane, an' lafter lood, + Are utter'd by the gaping crood;-- + By some whea yance religion luv'd, + Not only sanction'd, bud appruv'd! + If ivv'ry ward an' secret thowght, + Mun be yan day te judgment browght, + Oh, how unlike sike wark as this, + Is that which leads te glorious bliss! + Te see 'em thus seea blithe an' merry, + Wur famous pastaame for Awd Harry. + If owght te him cud be delighting, + 'Twad be to see 'em drunk an' feighting. + He popt aboot amang t' people, + At last he popt up on to't steeple, + Open'd a pair ov dismal jaws, + Flapt his black wings, an' yawn'd applause: + Like sum prood Emperor ov awd, + Upon the wether cock he rode, + 'Whoor he mud all at yance survey, + The grand proceedings ov the day. + A flagstaff for a whip he seized, + An' spurr'd the spire he wur seea pleeased, + Te think it sud his cause defend, + An' that his bait hed answer'd t'end. + +_Jim._--Tis not for thee te criticise, + On men seea greeat, seea rich, seea wise, + They aim, neea doot, as weel as thee, + Te gang te heeaven when they dee. + What thof ther munney be bud lent, + Thoo knaws 'at munney mun be spent. + Besaads they hev example too,-- + If t' _parson's_ theer--What's that te thoo? + +_Joe._--If thooase sud miss ther passage heeame, + A careless priesthood they may bleeame. + Blinnd guides they are, an' t'Kirk's ther moother, + An' they wean't gang te hear neea other. + We Christians run a diff'rent race, + Te what we call the Steeple Chase. + Besaads we finnd i' Holy writ, + Ther's neean cums theer 'at are nut fit. + +_Jim._--Thoo meeans te proove by argument, + Thooase 'at cums theer mun first repent, + An' be throo Jesus Christ forgiven, + Afoore they're i' the rooad te heaven. + Neea carnal plissure they mun share, + Bud live a life ov faith an' prayer. + If thooase alone hev saving grace, + Doon gangs at yance the Steeple Chase. + +_Joe._--Seea legions fell fra' leeght te dark, + Seea Dagon fell afoore the ark, + Seea God prood Pharaoh owerthrew, + Wi' Sisera, an' Goliath too. + Seea fell the lords i' sad supprise, + Wheas hands hed put out Samson's eyes. + Thooase mighty men wur turn'd te dust, + An' seean the Steeple Chasers must. + +_Jim._--Whah, Joe, it caps me fair te ken, + Hoo thooase heeigh flying gentlemen, + Can fra' ther chasing gang te t' kirk, + An' join i't' blessed Sunday's wooark, + Singing wi' all ther might an' main, + This heaven inspir'd, this holy strain, + "Let all thy converse be sincere, + "Thy conscience as the noon-day clear, + "For God's all seeing eye surveys + "Thy secret thoughts, thy works and ways;"-- + An' then fra' t' kirk te t' Steeple Chase, + An' set at nowght God's luv an' grace, + Call t'dissenters, an' shoot thruff t'nation, + For "_Apostolical succession_!" + +_Joe._--Te bring oor converse te a close, + Oor only aim is te expose, + The thing Almighty God doth hate,-- + Nut te provoke unkind debate. + The day's nut far 'at will reveal + The truth, an' fix the final seal. + Sum may when its teea late te rue, } + Finnd what they hoped wur false--is _true_ } + Consarning everlasting woe! } + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] It was a saying of one of the Riders, that he carried two or three +loose necks in his pocket, in case anything happened to his own. + + + + +THE LUCKY DREEAM, OR AN AWD THING RENEWED. + + + Yah Kesenmas neeght, or then aboot, + When meeasons all wur frozen oot, + Ah went te see a coontry frind, + An hospitable hoor te spend. + For gains Ah cut across at moor, + Whoor t'snaw seea furiously did stour:-- + The hoose Ah geean'd, an' enter'd in, + An' wor as welcome as a king. + The stoorm ageean t'winder patter'd, + An' hailsteeans doon t'chimler clatter'd, + All hands wur in, an' seeam'd content, + An' neean did frost or snaw lament. + T'lasses all wur at ther sowing, + Ther cheeks wi' health an' beauty glowing. + Aroond the heearth in cheerful chat + Twea'r three frindly neeaburs sat; + Ther travels telling,--whoor they'd been, + An' what they hed beeath heeard an' seen; + Till yan us all did mitch amuse, + An' thus a stoory introduce. + "Ah recollect lang sin," sez he, + "A stoory that wur tell'd te me, + 'At seeams seea straange i' this oor day, + That true or false Ah cannut say. + A man liv'd in this neybourheead, + Neea doot ov reputation gud, + An' lang taame strave w' stiddy care, + Te keep his hooshod i' repair. + At length he hed a curious dreeam, + For three neeghts runnin 'twur the seeam; + 'At if on Lunnon Brigg he stood, + He'd heear sum news wad deea him gud. + He labour'd hard, beeath neeght an' day, + Tryin te draave thooase thowghts away, + Yet daily grew mare discontent, + Till he at last te Lunnon went! + Being quite a stranger te that toon, + Lang taame he wander'd up an' doon, + Till led by sum mysterious hand, + On Lunnon Brigg he teeak his stand; + An' theer he waited day by day, + An' just wur boon te cum away, + Seea mitch he thowght he wur te bleeam, + Te gang seea far aboot a dreeam, + When thus a man, as he drew neear, + Did say, "Good friend, what seek you here, + Where I have seen you soon and late?" + His dreeam te him he did relate. + "Dreams," sez the man, "are empty things, + Mere thoughts that flit on silver'd wings; + Unheeded we should let them pass:-- + I've had a dream, and thus it was, + That somewhere round this peopled ball, + There's such a place as Lealholm Hall; + Yet whether such a place there be, + Or not, is all unknown to me. + There in a cellar, dark and deep, + Where slimy creatures nightly creep, + And human footsteps never tread, + There is a store of treasure hid. + If it be so, I have no doubt, + Some lucky wight will find it out: + Yet so or not, is nought to me, + For I shall ne'er go there to see!" + The man did slyly twice or thrice, + The cockney thenk for his advice, + Then heeame ageean wi'oot delay, + He cheerfully did tak his way, + An' set aboot the wark, an' sped, + Fund ivv'ry thing, as t' man hed sed, + Wur ivver efter seen te floorish, + T'finest gentleman i' all the parish. + Fooaks wonder'd sare, an' weel they meeght, + Whoor he gat all his ginnes breeght! + If it wur true, in spite ov feeame, + Te him it wor a lucky dreeam. + + + + +A STRANGE EFFUSION, + +OR + +WESLEYANISM AT EASBY, + +IN THE STOKESLEY CIRCUIT: + + _Written when the Methodists were deprived of the place of + worship in which they had been accustomed to meet._ + + + They're wakken'd at Easby, the Lord is amang 'em, + Thof turn'd oot o' t' temple 'at used te belang 'em, + Anoother we whooap afoore lang 'll be beelt, + Whoor sinners thruff Christ may hev pardon for guilt. + T' Lord seems te oppen a way out afoore 'em, + Thof neybourin lions hev aim'd te devoor 'em. + When t'awd maister mariner fail'd at the helm, + They thowght it wad all the consarn owerwhelm; + An' when they appear'd ov all succour bereft, + They endeeavour'd te freeghten t' few 'at wur left. + Bud the Lord wur detarmin'd te be ther protection, + Te send 'em suppoort, an' gie 'em direction; + If nobbut, like monny, they wadden't betray him, + Bud stick te that text, beeath te luv an' obey him. + They can't be content wi' ther steeple opinions, + Bud they mun mack inrooads on others' dominions; + Thof theers be in gen'ral the fat an' the wealthy, + For t'want of gud physic, they seldom are healthy. + Hoo strange 'at they sud sike fair temples erect, + Te murder the sowls in--they're swoorn te protect! + Bud stranger they'll finnd it o' yon side the fleead, + Wi' ther hands an' ther garments all stain'd i' ther bleead! + We needn't te wonder they mack sike a fuss, + Ther craft is i' danger fra' rebels like us:-- + For God can mack preeachers--hoo feearful the thowght-- + Fra' cobblers, or meeasons, or blacksmiths, or owght! + O yes! Dr. Pusey may whet his awd grinders, + An' put on his captives ther fetters an' blinders; + Ther's poor men iv Easby 'at ken his awd sang, + An' see the defect ov beeath him an' his gang. + He may scare 'em wi' taxes, wi' rates, an' oppression, + All thooase whea are oot o' the line o' succession, + Thof te prove 'at _he's_ in't, he's a varry poor chance, + Unless he unite wi' the Romans at yance. + Then t' Romans wad help him, an' think it all reeght, + Te murder Dissenters, an' put oot ther leeght; + Te cut 'em i' pieces, te butcher an' bon 'em, + Bud till that's the keease they cannut owerton 'em! + Nur Stowsley, nur Yatton, ther frinds will invite, + Nur Skelton, nur Brotton, ther efforts unite; + They'll finnd te ther mortification an' pain, + They hev fowght wi' t' wind, an' hev labour'd i' vain! + + + + +LEALHOLM BRIDGE. + +A SOLILOQUY DURING A VISIT, AFTER SOME YEARS' ABSENCE. + + + Ah, lovely Lealholm! Where shall I begin, + To say what thou art now, and once hast been? + Once the dear seat of all my earthly joys, + That now, in recollection only, rise! + Methinks, where'er I look no life appears, + But all the place a cheerless aspect wears; + Thy groves are desolate, thy swains are fled, + And many of them number'd with the dead; + Religion 's cold, the poor are sore oppress'd, + Thy orphans weep, and widows are distress'd. + O let us pray their griefs may shortly end, + And God, their Father, still may prove their friend. + This ancient Bridge some faint idea brings, + Where still the swallow comes and dips her wings; + The murmuring river, and the rumbling mill, + Bear some resemblance to poor Lealholm still; + Yon silent whirlpool beautifies the scene, + Where shades of trees are in its deepness seen, + Where leaping fishes on the surface play, + And gladly seems to close, the summer's day; + The broken waters from yon glen resound, + Their constant rippling 's heard the village round; + Yon burden'd iron pinion loudly shrieks, + While tears of oil hang on his rusty cheeks; + The greedy race, the water still supplies, + The lofty wheel's broad shelves successive rise; + The thund'ring engine doth her hands employ, + And Hunter's place is fill'd by William Joy; + The floating bubble swims upon the wave, + While Ord[B] lies mould'ring in the silent grave; + Behind yon hill the sun escapes from sight, + And yields his empire to the shades of night. + Alas! Poor Lealholm once in glory shone, + But now, she like a widow, sits alone! + Once from yon town the people flock'd like bees, + To taste the sweetness of the country breeze; + Pedestrians joyful, here and there were seen, + While shays and whiskeys deck'd her level green; + The banks of Esk, were crowded all along, + Either with Anglers, or with lookers on. + The full "Moon,"[C] then did through her valleys shine, + So bright, some thought she never would decline; + Year after year she in her sphere did move, + And all seem'd animation, life, and love: + But now, in mists and gloom she disappears, + Eclips'd--her light no longer Lealholm cheers! + Pluck'd from her orb, her borrow'd lustre's fled, + And in the silent tomb, she rests her head. + In distant lands my father's lot was cast, + And we were left to feel the bitter blast. + Death's fatal hand its victim did arrest, + And tore him from the darlings of his breast. + I, by a mother's care, when young was led, + Down by the river to yon primrose bed, + Where birds so sweetly sung the trees among, + I thought those days were happy, bright, and long. + Oft I, a boy, with others of my age, + Did eager here in youthful sports engage. + Oft in yon wood we rov'd when life was new, + The rocks, and trees and rugged caves to view; + Where woodbines wild, with sweets perfum'd the air, + And all seem'd joyous, beautiful, and fair. + Alas! where's now the grove? The trees are gone! + And many the wide ocean are upon: + A few remaining springers yet survive, + And keep their owner's name and place alive! + Just so it is with us, could we but see, + Our fathers who are in eternity! + Their offspring live, but they're for ever gone, + Their portion's fixed, no more will they return! + May we be wise, and lessons learn afresh, + To trust no longer in an arm of flesh!-- + Begin to seek, and rest not till we find + The peace of God, which satisfies the mind. + Then seeing all my earthly joys are fled, + Where, O my soul! art thou for succour led? + 'Tis Jesus, that can all thy wants supply, + A fountain 's there which never will run dry: + Arabia's grove, nor Sharon's flowery field, + Such rich perfume, such holy incense yield: + 'Tis Jesus' merit, and his dying love, + 'Tis these perfume the glorious courts above! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[B] The Mill was built by Mr. Ord. + +[C] Mrs. Moon, landlady of the Public House, who died during the +Author's absence. + + + + +OLD SAM! + +OR + +THE EFFECTS OF THE GOSPEL. + + + Attend, all ye who Zion's tidings love, + Whose hearts and hopes are fix'd on things above, + Whose chief delight is centred in the fame, + Of signs and wonders wrought through Jesus' name;-- + All ye who virtue love, and evil hate, + Attend, while I a simple tale relate. + A preacher being to a village sent, + To warn and woo the people to repent; + Depending only on God's mighty grace, + His pious soul was looking for success. + For God, his people had a house prepared, + In which his arm had many times been bared, + And in that little village congregation, + Were found some earnest seekers of salvation. + Among the rest a noted Bruiser stood, + Whose hands had oft been stain'd with human blood; + A man of constitution so robust, + He oft had laid Goliaths in the dust. + He fully on the preacher fix'd his eye, + But scarcely could declare the reason why; + The subject, and the theme on which he dwelt, + Caught his attention, and its force he felt. + He thought the preacher all his actions knew, + His words, like arrows, pierc'd his conscience through; + His spirits fell, his heart was sick and sore, + Such anguish he had never felt before. + It seem'd to him as if an angel spoke, + He felt within as if his heart was broke, + He thought he heard mount Sinai's thunder roll, + Which shook the very centre of his soul! + Such mighty strokes soon humbled all his pride, + He sank condemn'd, and loud for mercy cried. + "What shall I do?" said he, "Nay, who can tell? + Oh! how shall I escape the pit of Hell?" + On bended knees he did salvation seek, + Big tears roll'd down his long undaunted cheek:-- + The people pray'd, the sinner wept the more,-- + This man, who till that hour, ne'er wept before. + After a time his mighty anguish ceas'd, + The Lord of life his captive soul releas'd! + The joy he felt he scarcely could contain, + The people sung--"a sinner's born again!" + Some time elaps'd--two of his mates had met, + As custom was, and in a tavern sat, + Conversing on events that daily pass'd, + Till one the other thus address'd at last. + "Heard you not what occurred the other day? + Old Sam has been converted, people say!" + "Old Sam!" the other says, with great surprise, + "What Sam, the Boxer?" "Yes!" the other cries! + "Depend upon't, though you may think it strange, + But in old Sam there is a wondrous change!" + "Nay,--he converted! Pshaw! 'tis all a whim; + They've just as much converted me as him; + And I can find a man, I have no doubt, + That soon will beat all his religion out." + "Perhaps not so," the other softly said, + "I think Old Sam 's of better mettle made, + I know that he was always bad to bend, + And on his firmness I will still depend." + The other rose, and would a wager bet, + Old Sam was not so far converted yet, + But that if pick'd at, he would turn again, + And still he would the bloody cause maintain. + To Sammy's door their way direct they took, + For he had now the tavern's haunts forsook; + They call'd a rebel out to lead the van, + To vex and aggravate the poor old man. + At length they reach'd, and rattled at the door, + Standing around, like lions to devour + His happy soul; but he had by his side, + King David's faithful Shepherd for his guide. + Old Sammy from his Bible reading rose, + And straightway forth to meet the rebel goes; + "Here's one," say they, "will fight for what you like!" + He stamp'd, and raged, and dared old Sam to strike; + Sam look'd and smiled, as he before him stood, + Then shook his head, thinking the cause not good; + At length his flaming passion to control, + He cries, "The Lord have mercy on thy soul! + Thy case I pity, O thou man of might, + Although this practice once was my delight; + Calm thy fierce rage, and to old Sam attend, + Before destruction prove thy awful end. + I clearly see the spirit thou art in, + For I myself oft in the same have been; + And many a one like thee I've made to bend, + And brought their boasting valour to an end. + 'Tis well for thee that I'm another man, + Or thou wouldst rue the day that this began; + I soon should settle all thy boasts and brags, + And make thy bones fall rattling on the flags! + Thou mayst thank God, whose power and grace divine, + Have chang'd this proud, rebellious heart of mine; + The love I feel to thee forbids the blow, + Which soon would lay thy boasting prowess low. + Restrain thy passion, give old Sam thine hand, + Be thankful that thou dost before him stand; + Go tell the men whom once I did adore, + Their wager's lost, old Sam will fight no more; + Tell them to save their money for their wives, + Give up their folly, and reform their lives; + To go and seek salvation while they may, + Before the wrath of God drives them away!" + Sam's noble speech so satisfied them all, + That not one there durst him a coward call. + "Although the wager 's fairly lost," say they, + "We all must own old Sam hath won the day!" + Now Sammy like a warrior stout and bold, + Seeks new companions, and forsakes the old; + While shouts of praise his ravish'd ears surround, + He hears, and understands, the joyful sound! + Yes, Sammy has a better master now, + And more substantial friends to deal with too; + Secure he leans on his Redeemer's breast, + And sweetly sings himself away to rest. + + + + +THOUGHTS ON GOOD FRIDAY: + + Occasioned by seeing two "_Sinkers_" dragged out of a Coal Pit; + one of them killed, the other dreadfully wounded. At a short + distance, a busy crowd were preparing their tents and posts for + the approaching races, on Easter Monday and Tuesday. On + mentioning the fatal occurrence, and naming the day, a + bystander exclaimed, "O, Good Friday is nought!" + + + The morning sun shone dim, as if in pain, + To see that day by man so soon despised. + The feather'd choirs did heedless man reprove, + Who had more cause than they, with early song + To greet the morn, on which their Saviour bled. + Alas! that man should e'er forget his love! + Down, down the pit, the cheerful sinkers went, + Nor grief, nor fear through all the gloom appear'd; + Though at the bottom deep, grim death sat shrouded + In horrid features, measuring their minutes! + Foul was the air, and bad;--they saw him not, + Nor dream'd he was so near, nor held dispute, + On which the lot might fall, to be his victim:-- + When suddenly, through wanton carelessness, + Or the just judgment of an angry God, + The kibble kick'd, brim full of splinter'd rock! + Down fell at once his ponderous instrument, + Full thirty fathom, whizzing as it went! + Beneath its heavy crash a victim fell, + And groan'd, nor ceas'd, till he had groan'd his last. + Then from behind the scene the monster stept, + And with his bony fingers hurl'd his dart: + Its point another touch'd, but not so deep. + Forth from the pit I saw the sufferers dragg'd, + I heard deep groans, and saw their mangled flesh. + The former then with grief was quick interr'd, + The other a poor halting cripple lives. + Where's now the man that says "Good Friday's nought?" + With accidents like this, God's swift judgments, + I could, if 'twere requested, fill these sheets; + But to the man who thinks, and judges right, + This may suffice. And is Good Friday nought? + Is that day nought on which our Saviour bled, + To buy our pardon, to save by suff'ring! + Open salvation's fount for crimson crimes, + And wash, and make us guilty lepers clean? + Alas for man! He sees, he feels it not! + Of old, men saw, and felt it, though far off. + The martyrs saw, own'd, and observ'd it too, + In fasting, prayer, and self-denial; + This made them march, when call'd, with holy joy, + To meet the dagger's point, or burning stake. + The earth once felt, and felt to her foundations; + The marble mountain felt, and quak'd, and shiver'd; + The sun felt, and grew dark; the heavens wept, + And hell beneath, in dismal groanings howl'd! + The serpent felt,--and still feels in his bruis'd head. + The Saviour!--Yes, the King of Glory felt, + In that sad cup his subjects should have drunk:-- + Both in the temple, and the wilderness, + The street, the judgment hall,--in Pilate's scourge, + In cruel mockings, and the scarlet robe! + He felt it too beneath the rugged wood, + When He fatigued climb'd Calvary's steep brow! + He felt it in the hammer and the nails + That pierc'd his flesh, though he offended not! + He felt it in the reed, and crown of thorns! + He felt it in the hyssop, vinegar, and gall, + In strange upbraidings, and the soldier's spear! + He felt it in that mighty crush, which should, + And would have crush'd, his guilty murderers. + He felt it till his mortal part expir'd! + He feels it yet, and so do his disciples: + But the proud stiff-neck'd sinner feels it not;-- + Perverse, he _will not_, yet one day he shall! + Though he at present, feast and garnish out + His wife's, or children's birth days, and his own, + With songs, and cards, and music, and the dance, + Yet this, like Job's day, shall be blotted out! + Though he _will not_, yet he shall regard it, + When God appears in majesty, and power, + Arm'd with thunder-bolts, and chariots of fire, + On all his foes to pour his vengeance! + Yes! All men then will wish to be his friends. + E'en those who have his words and grace despis'd, + Will wish their lives were to begin again!-- + "Whither, O, whither shall the guilty flee, + When consternation turns the good man pale!" + + + + +TO A WITHERED FLOWER! + + + Withering Flower, upbraid me not! + Why cast on me that look so pale? + Why dost thou my attention court, + To listen to thy mournful tale? + Why bow thy head? Why bend thy neck? + Why look so drooping, wan, and cold? + To give my careless thoughts a check,-- + And tell me _I_ am getting old! + + Fading Flower, upbraid me not! + Still nodding with the gentle breeze. + Or dost thou think I have forgot, + I too am wasting by degrees? + For scarce can I believe my sight, + Who lately saw thee fresh and gay; + That beauty could so early blight, + Or such fresh colours fade away! + + Drooping Flower, upbraid me not! + But turn to Sol's enlivening ray. + I in some climate cold or hot, + Must also sicken and decay! + Nay, why dost thou shake off thy leaf, + And show thy heart so fair and clean? + But mine to smite with inward grief,-- + To feel the many plagues within. + + Weeping Flower, upbraid me still! + For half the conquest thou hast gain'd. + Yes! listen to thy tale I will, + Until its meaning be explain'd. + Fair emblem thou of human life; + In thee its changing tints are seen; + Our visit here, so frail and brief, + Is painted in those tints of thine! + + When in thy bud so rich and gay, + Thou did'st escape the spoiler's hand + That would have reft thy charms away, + 'Twas pity check'd--and let thee stand! + While cherish'd by the blushing fair, + And waving on thy hardy stem, + Thy fragrance rich, perfum'd the air,-- + Thou'rt blasted now to me and them! + + Unlike to thee, whose task is done, + When Man shall quit this vale of tears, + After this life's short glass is run, + Man shall exist in nobler spheres. + All earthly glories fade away, + So transient and so insecure; + With us, alas, how short's their stay! + Prefigur'd by a dying Flower! + + Yet we have cause to bless the day, + If weary of a life mispent, + By this thy exit, any may + Be led to ponder, and repent. + Thou transient teller of the truth, + May he who bids, and thunders roll, + Forgive the follies of my youth, + And stamp thy lesson on My soul! + + + + +THE COUNTRY LOVE FEAST. + + (_Held in an old Barn, Farndale, Yorkshire._) + + + Sing, O my muse, in praise of Zion sing, + In praise of those who her glad tidings bring, + In praise to Him who left the courts above, + To manifest to us his Father's love! + Celestial powers, my heart and voice inspire, + If such a worm as I can feel your heav'nly fire; + To such a theme, to such a noble song, + Sublimer strains than I can reach belong. + Glory to God, whose mercy and free grace, + Are not confin'd to either time or place, + To bless, and save the fallen sons of men, + To cleanse believers, and to pardon sin. + O what an humble, yet exalted place, + Where Christians meet, the great I AM to praise. + A Barn!--A Temple! what a place is this! + Emblem of heav'n, and type of future bliss! + An earthen floor serves us on which to tread, + The roof is cover'd with the spider's web:-- + To such is man's best righteousness compar'd, + By which full many a lofty head's ensnar'd. + No crimson pews distinguish rich from poor, + No brass inscriptions glitter on the floor, + No marble monuments adorn the wall, + No polish'd altars where men prostrate fall, + No tapestry doth hang the pulpit round, + No costly vaults are in this temple found, + No pealing organ's note delights the ear, + But what is better far,--our God is here! + Wherever two or three sincerely meet, + Who have towards Zion's city turn'd their feet, + 'Tis there our God himself vouchsafes to be, + To bind the strong, and set the prisoner free. + The world's applause we cheerfully disdain, + And shelter here from company profane. + For as we differ, 'tis by Jesus' grace, + And 'tis His presence dignifies the place. + Before us here the bread of life is spread, + Behind are stalls where now the ox is fed. + Like that in Bethlehem where Jesus lay, + This stable now beholds a glorious day! + Here Pilgrims meet their travels to relate, + And when, and where they enter'd mercy's gate. + They tell us how their eyes with tears did fill, + When unbelief was wilful of its will. + They tell us how their sins did them oppress, + And fill'd their inmost souls with deep distress; + And how the Lord their burden did remove, + Pardon'd their sins, and fill'd their hearts with love. + They all rejoice to see each other's face, + To hear each prospers in the work of grace. + With one consent their cheerful hearts aspire, + And ecstasies of joy their bosoms fire. + Such times as these we think too soon are gone, + Our happy souls cemented into one! + We pray, and part, each to his distant home, + And still we cry, "Lord, let thy kingdom come!" + Both far and near his Kingdom doth extend, + Temples are rising both by sea and land. + The Bethel flag, high waving in the air, + Calls seamen to engage in praise and prayer, + Whole streets, reform'd, the great assembly join, + Speak with new tongues, and sing in songs divine. + Poor trembling sinners wipe their watery eyes, + And lamentations pierce the bowing skies! + Blasphemers fall beneath the power of God, + And statesmen flock to hear his Holy Word; + While some of them a portion find to spare, + Waste Zion's walls and bulwarks to repair. + See golden prospects round us rise, + See the dejected raise their downcast eyes, + The liberated captives shout applause + To Zion's King, and his victorious cause! + + + + +ODE TO BRITAIN. + + + Shine, Britain! Shine! Thy virtues we commend; + Thy light to distant nations shall extend. + A city on a hill cannot be hid, + Nor can'st thou be, while Heav'n lifts up thy head. + Shine, Britain! Shine! O send the bible forth, + To each benighted corner of the earth; + Till all with joy its richest blessings taste, + And share with us the glorious Gospel Feast. + O happy people! Highly favour'd Isle! + Which shares the sunshine of Jehovah's smile. + The scenes thy sons and daughters have enjoy'd, + Kings have desir'd to see, but were denied. + We hope the sound of discord soon will cease, + And angels sing a universal peace! + When barren lands with plenty shall abound, + And Christ be worshipp'd the wide world around. + At thoughts of this the lonely desert sings, + To see his altars throng'd with prostrate Kings; + To see great men of honour and renown, + Cast off the coronet to wear a crown! + Hasten, O Lord, the long--long wish'd for day, + When favour'd with thy truth's enlightening ray, + Poor Hottentots shall raise the song divine, + And savage Turks, the heav'nly concert join. + When Blacks and Whites, a vast redeemed throng, + Shall all unite to swell the mighty song; + Worship one God, and hail Him Lord and King, + Through the whole world the Saviour's praises sing. + + + + +A VOICE FROM THE DEAD! + + Written on being uncivilly treated, when erecting some + Tombstones in ---- Church Yard, where the Author was denied the + use of any part of the Church, Porch, or Stable; was forbidden + to Letter the Stone in the Church Yard, though it was more than + a mile from the Church to the nearest convenient place for such + a work; and was also denied the Keys of the Gate:--yet at that + very time, the parson's horse and cow, were feeding on the + grass, tearing up the graves, and breaking down the stones, + while none dared to complain! On seeing the horse's leg sink + into a grave up to the lisk, the following thoughts suggested + themselves. + + + What foot is that disturbs my rest, + Which through my coffin lid hath press'd, + And caus'd my bones the air to feel?-- + It is the parson's horse's heel! + + 'Tis hard so much as there's to pay, + That corpses cannot quiet lay, + But are by cow or horse plough'd up, + For priests to reap a three-fold crop! + + Through such a process they must pass, + The grave, the tombstone, and the grass, + And Easter Offering beside:-- + These claims must never be denied! + + What though they do the grass devour, + And leave their dung against the door! + Pay up,--say nought,--'What's that to thou?' + It is the parson's horse or cow! + + I know the living dare not grumble, + Nor at the parson's conduct stumble! + And when the simple truth is told, + Of dead men they can get no hold. + + We thought no hammer was to sound, + Upon this consecrated ground,-- + Yet cow or horse may grind our bones + And rub their sides against the stones! + + Some think things so are constituted, + That masons' tools are all polluted, + But that the parson's horse or cow, + Like th' Church, is consecrated too! + + Thus they may gallop o'er our graves, + And split our coffins into halves; + In spite of widows tears and groans, + May pastime make of dead folks' bones! + + This is too hard for flesh and blood! + A thing which cannot be withstood; + A thing which inward grief imparts + To pious minds and tender hearts. + + But men enthrall'd must never speak, + Nor for redress attempt to seek, + But with such creatures be content, + As Bishops have ordain'd and sent. + + Like him who dwells upon the coast, + Who of the priesthood makes his boast, + Regardless what the flock endure, + "If he can but the fleece secure!" + + His present residence and living, + Are of his earthly father's giving; + So none his title dare dispute, + For Bishops cannot turn him out! + + Though life and conduct be profane, + He knows that men dare not complain; + Or soon he'd show them his degrees, + And take revenge in _tythes_ and _fees_! + + Such workmen's labour is in vain + To keep their hands from bloody stain; + In vain they strive to show the road, + That leads to glory and to God! + + No wonder if such Church decay, + If members leave it day by day, + Where tyrannising is the law,-- + And till a change, it must be so. + + The remedy will be unknown, + Till Priests are of the Spirit born; + Till they get hearts refin'd and pure, + Dissenters must their scorn endure! + + + + +TO THE MOOR BIRDS IN A STORM. + + + Ye birds of the Moor, I doubt you'll be poor, + The storm is quite likely to last; + The owl and the crow, are shelter'd below, + But you are expos'd to the blast! + + The snow lies so deep, the hill is so steep, + My footsteps are feeble and slow, + O lend me your wings, ye dear little things, + To carry me over the snow! + + Nay, I have no gun, so you need not run, + Nor cackle, nor spread out your tails; + No danger is near, you've nothing to fear, + The poacher is down in the dales. + + The wind whistle's woe, through the valley below, + To the birds that are down in the wood; + You may hear by report, that the gun is afloat, + To scatter their feathers and blood. + + If you'll be content, till the storm shall be spent, + And suffer no envy or strife; + No doubt but you may, on some future day, + Get fat, and escape with your life! + + But if you encroach, or chance to approach, + The web-footed classes domain; + If wide you should stray, or fall out by the way, + A thousand to one but you're slain! + + + + +LINES ON RETURNING A BORROWED STICK OF SLENDERISH SIZE, + + Which had been lent with a strict charge to take particular + care of it, and to return it as soon as done with. + + To MR. WILLIAM HORNER, of Ripon. + + + Dear Billy, with thanks, I return thee thy switch, + Which has many times kept me out of the ditch. + I have found oft when stumbling o'er hillock or stone, + A slender supporter is better than none! + + When the stars were beclouded and darkness prevail'd, + And the rain was descending, its aid never fail'd; + For it grop'd out my way, and assisted my sight,-- + When my foot would have slipp'd, it kept me upright. + + It never forsook me, or broke my command, + Unless it was when it slipt out of my hand; + Then myself it might blame, for not taking more care, + For when duty demanded it always was there. + + It is rare upon earth to find such a friend, + On which one can always so safely depend;-- + When help was most needed it paid most regard, + And never reprov'd me for using it hard! + + + + +THE THUNDER STORM. + + + The praise be thine, Almighty, matchless King, + Whose care and power, my muse presumes to sing; + Whose tender care protects, while thousands sleep, + The wakeful sea-boy on the mighty deep. + Thou dost from perils screen his naked head, + Which in a moment fill the world with dread; + Thou, while thy lightnings flash, and thunders roll, + Dost whisper secret peace into his soul! + + The praise be thine, whose interposing power, + Protected us across yon lonely moor, + And through that night of terror and alarm, + Mysteriously preserv'd us all from harm! + That night of awful peril we record, + Ascribing all the glory to the Lord; + When from yon distant Meeting we return'd, + And pious friends at home our absence mourn'd! + + The moon and stars at once withdrew their light, + And thus increas'd the horrors of the night, + Loud claps of thunder shook the sons of pride, + And female courage was severely tried! + The time pass'd on in conversation sweet, + While flaming lightning flash'd around our feet,-- + Yet by the flash, in each believer's face + We read the sign of confidence and peace. + + Some to our God did then devoutly pray, + While others sung that awful hour away; + A voice was heard, "Ye need not be afraid, + Whose hope is on the Rock of Ages stay'd!" + Our virgins trimm'd their lamps, and sweetly sung, + And tenderly around each other clung, + While, as through fire and flood they took their way, + Salvation was the burden of their lay. + + 'Midst dismal darkness the black clouds were driven, + With all the fearful majesty of heaven; + And then as if an angel cleft the cloud, + And show'd to man the glowing wrath of God, + More quick than either thought, or sight of man, + From north to south the flaming fluid ran; + The east and west burst into a blaze, + And guilty man beheld it with amaze! + + It seem'd to warn the world against that day, + When earth and sky shall melt, and pass away! + The distant mountains seem'd to own his nod, + And cried to man, "Prepare to meet thy God!" + All glory be to our eternal King, + Who brought us all safe home His praise to sing. + May we both hear and keep his Holy Word, + And so fulfil the royal law of God! + + + + +THE MISER'S AWAY! + + + The miser's away, and he'll never come back, + Any more his rusty old guineas to crack, + By his niggardly fare, of potatoes and fish, + His successor enjoys a more plentiful dish. + I once had occasion to pass by his door, + Whose threshold so seldom was cross'd by the poor, + A kitten came out in its innocent play, + And pleasantly three-thrumm'd--"The Miser's away!" + + The way weary traveller, to shorten the mile, + Sometimes has occasion to go by the style; + The gain that he gets, his spirit revives, + He cuts off an elbow, and sooner arrives. + Through one of his fields the pathway doth lie, + And very few 'scap'd the dint of his eye. + The gate as it opens and creaks, seems to say, + 'Pass stranger, and welcome'--"The Miser's away!" + + In his ancient old Intake, long kept without fence, + And without cultivation, for fear of expence, + By the plough, or the spade, the rough is made plain, + And the hopeful young husbandman scatters the grain. + Where the bones of the gimmer decay'd on the ground, + And nettles and briars were every where found, + Fine corn is now growing, all smiling and gay; + It had not been so, but--"The Miser's away!" + + The birds haste away to the green holly bush, + The blackbird now tries to outrival the thrush; + They tip the tall branches on fluttering wing, + Make nearer approaches, and merrily sing. + The flowers in the garden around the bee-hive, + With unwonted freshness begin to revive, + To each new beholder their beauties display, + And whisper in perfume--"The Miser's away!" + + Here among his old books his Sabbaths he spent, + On logic and physic sat making comment;-- + He thought it would be the best method to use, + To save both his carcase, his money, and shoes;-- + He'd be his own doctor, and preacher likewise, + And his old yellow heap, like a mountain would rise! + The riches he heap'd up, by night and by day, + Another has found, for--"The Miser's away!" + + + + +THE MISTAKE: + + Containing a Moral for high looks, and forward folks. + + + Ye sportsmen bright of skill, and sight, + Who range o'er hill and dale; + Awhile give ear, and you shall hear, + A true and homely tale. + Ye friends at home, who seldom roam, + Much farther than the mill, + Be sure you're wise, and mind your eyes, + Or let your guns lie still. + It happen'd where, as you shall hear, + A building was erected, + That to complete its breadth and height, + Some workmen were collected. + + One morning chill, before yon hill + Was gilded with the sun, + Or adze, or axe, or mallet had, + Their battering begun; + Two favourite ducks, had 'scaped the fox, + Well fed, and feather'd too; + In sportive play, aspiring they + Took wing, and off they flew. + With airy wheel, they quick did scale, + The lofty wall unscar'd, + The trees they topt, and down they dropt + A gun-shot from the yard. + + A joiner ran, to fetch a gun + The wild ducks to secure,-- + The gun he brought, with which he thought, + To make at least one fewer. + Through mist and dew, the contents flew, + A duck began to cry, + And one took flight, and left our sight, + Nor could we it espy. + This done, the man full swiftly ran, + To gather up his game,-- + Both fore and aft, the people laugh'd, + To see his _wild_ duck _tame_! + + He set her down, she gaz'd around, + Wond'ring at such abuse,-- + But for her weight, or else she might + Have pass'd for a wild goose. + In friendship sweet, the ducks soon meet, + And talk their frolic o'er, + And in their play, they seem to say, + They'll fly so high no more. + Our thoughts oft may, our skill betray, + But actions they speak louder; + If he'd been still, he'd saved his skill, + Likewise his shot and powder! + + + + +THE BROKEN SEAL. + + + To sing of Southcotes clouded fame, + My muse presumes and tries to soar; + Though some may say, "Blot out her name, + Let it be seen or heard no more," + I have a secret to reveal, + Effected by a broken Seal! + + This poor Joanna had her day;-- + While fair and bright the morning shone, + She led too many far astray, + Whose souls much better things had known; + She soon their ancient tribe could tell, + And signed their title with a Seal. + + A poor, illiterate, labouring man, + Who went Joanna's voice to hear, + A stranger to salvation's plan, + Had linger'd on from year to year; + He thought she preach'd the gospel real, + And he of course must have a Seal! + + Without a heart transform'd and new, + Joanna Southcote took him in, + And seal'd him her disciple true, + Without repenting of his sin;-- + He slyly from his wife did steal, + The price of his mysterious Seal! + + Her creed on such conditions hung, + That while her seals continued whole, + Then hope was bright, and faith was strong, + And they could neither fail nor fall; + But none could rescue those from hell, + Who chanc'd to crack or break the Seal! + + When, lo, upon a certain day, + Examining his little store, + Joanna's passport to survey; + His pocket book he rummag'd o'er, + But consternation turn'd him pale, + When he perceiv'd he'd _broke_ his Seal! + + His heart was stung with deep dismay, + With anguish, and tormenting fears, + Which like a trumpet night and day, + Did sound this sentence in his ears, + "Thou never canst thy crime conceal, + Remember thou hast broke thy Seal!" + + He thought the Almighty from on high, + Would soon his red hot lightnings pour, + And he, a sinner doom'd to die, + Might then expect the hottest shower;-- + God would on him his wrath reveal, + For he had broke the fatal Seal! + + He more than either once or twice, + With heavy heart and tearful eye, + Went to a preacher for advice, + Who soon his sickness did descry; + By what his conscience seem'd to feel, + His heart was broken with his Seal! + + The preacher then without delay, + Did point him to the sinner's friend, + Exhorting him to watch and pray, + And on the Son of God depend, + Whose efficacious blood could heal + His soul, though he had broke his Seal! + + One day in agonizing prayer, + Believing on the Son of God, + On the dark borders of despair, + He found redemption in His blood, + And from the transport he did feel, + He bless'd the day he broke the Seal! + + + + +THE STONE: + + Composed to gratify a Scottish Rhymer, and brother mason. + + + A stone!--and what about a stone? + What sense is there in that? + I answer, in itself there's none: + But hold, I'll tell you what! + Oft while in craggy woods I've been, + All silent, and alone, + A thousand beauties I have seen, + Conceal'd within a stone! + + While passing through life's troubled scenes, + O'erwhelm'd with care and grief, + A stranger in this wilderness, + And needful of relief: + Not wishful then to every one, + To make my troubles known,-- + The thing most useful in this world, + I've gained it by a stone! + + Some boast of riches, and estates, + Of chariots, and of steeds, + Of ships that sail by wind or steam, + And some of mighty deeds: + But all the treasure I desire, + In cities, or alone, + Is peace of conscience, health of mind, + And hewing at a stone! + + Our kings, and nobles, dukes and lords, + Whose splendid castles rise, + Whose palaces, and lofty towers, + Reach almost to the skies; + Of Greece and Corinth make their boast, + Yet are oblig'd to own, + Some honour due, from first to last, + To those who hew the stone! + + In every town, in modern days, + Some system new prevails, + Men deviate from former ways, + The mason's art now fails: + Yet masons will be masons still, + And will each other own, + And smile at all attempts of skill + To imitate a stone! + + The work will stand, and not disgrace, + The master-builder's plan, + Defying rain, and tempests fierce, + For twice the age of man! + With all their compositions curl'd, + And round their columns thrown, + The grandest temple in the world, + We read was built of stone! + + When this fair earth at first arose, + And man was made upright, + Him, the great God of Heaven chose, + And view'd him with delight. + Had he thus stood, ('tis thought by some,) + And in God's image shone, + It never would have been our doom, + To hew and polish stone. + + But man soon fell, by mortal sin, + And since the deed is done, + And we its captives long have been, + Th' effect we cannot shun: + Yet though man from perfection fell, + And sin did make him groan, + The Lord in Zion laid for him, + "A sure foundation stone!" + + When men began to multiply, + And sin defil'd the heart, + The Lord look'd down with pitying eye, + With man he could not part. + The sun by day, and moon by night, + And twinkling stars that shone, + He made them all rejoice, and sing, + Of "Christ, the corner stone!" + + Whoe'er upon this stone shall fall, + Shall surely broken be, + Yet he may still be heal'd again, + And be from sin set free: + But he on whom this stone shall fall, + Shall see the Almighty's frown; + He shall be crush'd as powder small, + By this stupendous stone! + + Moses, that mighty man of God, + Who Israel's flock did lead, + Whose feet the path of duty trod, + And oft for them did plead, + In conversation with the Lord, + His face with glory shone, + And from awful Sinai bore, + The "Tables made of stone!" + + But lo, revolting Israel's seed, + In Horeb, as we're told, + Had during Moses' absence made, + A calf of molten gold; + Such folly made his griev'd heart ache, + With pangs till then unknown, + And down he threw at once, and brake + The "Tables made of stone!" + + Though ours be not such flagrant sins, + But lie perhaps conceal'd, + The day is coming when all things, + Now hid shall be reveal'd: + And some we have great cause to fear, + If they the truth would own, + Have little gods which they revere + Of gold, or precious stone. + + When once through Israel's armies brave, + The boasting challenge ran, + When great Goliath sent to Saul, + To find him out a man, + Who would in single combat fight, + Till one should be o'erthrown, + How little did he think that day + Of falling by a stone! + + With steps that made the earth to bend, + And spirit swell'd with pride, + He boasting shook his greaves of brass, + And Israel's God defied. + From Jesse's loins a stripling sprung, + Who made the monster groan, + When from the whirling sling he threw, + The feeble,--fatal stone! + + Proud armies have been overthrown, + And cities sack'd within, + And towers and temples broken down, + The sad effects of sin:-- + And once an Angel did foreshow, + The fall of Babylon, + When in the heaving deep he threw, + A great and mighty stone! + + When David's highly favour'd son, + His temple first began, + They from the mountains brought a stone, + Which seem'd a pest to man: + The masons view'd it o'er and o'er, + But oft with haughty scorn, + Rejected it, and roll'd aside + This strange, unshapely stone! + + From first to last it tumbling lay, + An object of disdain, + Till time, upon a certain day, + The mystery did explain. + The last, and loftiest pinnacle, + To finish and adorn + They sought, but none would do so well + As this rejected stone! + + A finer building ne'er was seen, + By any mortal eye, + The timbrels rung, and Israel sung, + And old men wept for joy. + And having thus their temple rear'd + Themselves are forc'd to own, + That which the builders once refus'd + Is now the Corner Stone! + + 'Tis thus Jehovah's favour'd sons, + With hearts by grace refined, + Are all compar'd to living stones, + For nobler ends design'd. + Thus he the mighty structure rears, + And perfects them in one, + A glorious Church,--and JESUS is + The chief, the corner stone! + + A stone by Daniel was perceiv'd, + And still the record stands, + Which from the mountains should proceed, + Cut out as without hands; + Whose dignity should greater grow, + And mighty Kings dethrone, + Till all the earth be fill'd below, + With this amazing stone! + + So "in due time God sent his Son," + According to His word, + Whose sacred mission was begun, + And seal'd with precious blood; + Who, while He dwelt on earth below, + Did make salvation known, + And caus'd His heavenly love to flow + In hearts once hard as stone! + + But Pharisees and cruel Jews, + Did seek from day to day, + This holy person to abuse, + To persecute and slay. + But God did give his Angels charge, + O'er his anointed one, + Lest he at any time should dash + His foot against a stone! + + At length his faithfulness to prove, + He for the world must die, + And power was given to wicked men, + The Lord to crucify. + The sun was dark at that event, + And with His dying groan, + Earth trembled! and the rocks were rent,-- + The rocks of solid stone! + + His enemies still follow'd Him, + When He lay in the grave + Hewn in the rock, for Joseph's tomb, + Who did His body crave: + Lest He their projects should destroy, + And they be overthrown, + They shut him in, and set a guard, + And seal'd the mighty stone! + + But Roman bands could not confine + The Saviour to His cell, + He manifests His power divine, + In spite of Earth and Hell: + The Father "owns His suffering Son," + Nor leaves Him then alone, + For lo! "an Angel comes by night, + And rolls away the stone!" + + He rises to men's wond'ring view, + And triumphs o'er His foes, + And proves the blessed record true, + Though sin and death oppose: + In glorious majesty He reigns, + On his exalted throne, + And still He power on earth retains, + To soften hearts of stone! + + To those who overcome through Him, + A stone, and a new name + He gives, which none can read but they, + Nor understand the same. + And they shall share His joys divine, + Seated on glittering thrones, + And walk those streets whose pavements shine + Like gold, or precious stones! + + + + +TO THE RISING SUN! ON A FROSTY MORNING. + + + Hail glorious Sun! bright regent of the day; + Gladly I welcome thine all cheering ray: + 'Midst frost and snow, a visit thus from thee, + Sets each numb toe and frozen finger free! + + Bright emblem of the Majesty on high, + Who lives and reigns, the Lord of earth and sky! + Before thy face the hailstones melt away, + And thy glad light turns darkness into day. + + Oft moving down the sloping dale I've eyed, + Thy golden radiance from the mountain side; + Have often long'd upon yon hills to be, + To catch a comfortable ray from thee. + + Now chill November's breath is cold and keen, + The trees around have lost their lovely green, + While horned cattle from the mountains roam, + And for their masters low, to take them home. + + The early plough boy stops to clap his hands, + The tender female dances where she stands; + While I, half starv'd, have thought thy coming long, + But now I hail thee welcome with a song! + + 'Tis said in heathen lands they worship thee, + When o'er the mountain tops thy light they see: + But as thou here no homage dost receive, + I to thy Maker all the glory give. + + His face, like thine, the drooping sinner cheers, + Oppress'd with guilt, and overwhelm'd with fears: + A ray from thee, O uncreated Sun, + Breaks up, and makes long frozen fountains run! + + Thou, from thyself, the soul to purify, + Dost pour the living water from on high, + Which if it doth within the soul remain, + The sinner's heart shall never freeze again! + + Yes! he who daily drinks of this pure wave, + For sensual pleasure shall no relish have, + But calm amidst the turbulence of life, + Shall dwell for ever free from care and strife. + + Shine, glorious Sun! thy blessings richly pour, + And cheer our fallen world from hour to hour! + With thy glad beams, O visit every vale, + 'Till every starving soul thine influence feel! + + + + +LINES IN MEMORY OF THE REV. D. DUCK, CURATE OF DANBY. + + + Yes! Daniel, faithful Daniel's gone, + His weeping flock lament their loss; + No more they fix their eyes upon + That zealous preacher of the cross! + + No more he meets them at the gate, + No breezes waft his silver'd hair, + While o'er the dead, both small and great, + His soul breathes out the ardent prayer! + + Nor from his eye, when grave-scenes call, + His streaming tears are seen to flow,-- + Those tears, which to the earth did fall, + And mingle with the dust below. + + No more he at the altar stands, + To bless, or break the hallow'd bread, + While from his lips and lifted hands, + Each hungry, holy soul is fed! + + But mingled happy saints among, + His ravish'd soul doth now ascend, + To share that bliss which he so long, + To others here did recommend. + + + + +AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED CHILD. + + + My little boy! my lovely boy! + Why in such haste away? + Will no embrace, or tempting toy, + Induce thy longer stay? + + What prompted thee the day before, + To climb thy Father's knee,-- + Spring to the window or the door, + With such unusual glee? + + I wonder oft, with wakeful eye, + And think it might be so, + Some Spirit then was passing by, + And beckon'd thee to go! + + I recollect with other things, + Which I have felt and fear'd, + Once something like the sound of wings, + Within the room was heard! + + Hast thou in infant vision seen + The city of our God? + Or on those holy mountains been, + By saints and angels trod? + + Or hast thou heard the melody + Which fills the courts above? + Or has thy Saviour shown to thee + The tokens of his love? + + If so,--no wonder thou should'st look + So light on all below;-- + If thou hast tasted of the brook + Where living waters flow! + + No wonder thou with such delight, + Didst view the rising sun: + Then glance on us thine eye so bright, + And flutter to be gone! + + If thou hast seen among heaven's choirs, + The crown that thou shalt wear, + Forgive a parent's fond desires, + To keep thee longer here. + + If thou among earth's griefs and joys, + Hadst any longer stayed, + With other rude and wicked boys, + Hadst into evil strayed;-- + + Hadst thou thy Saviour disobey'd, + Who died thy soul to save, + Thy parents' heads might have been laid, + With sorrow in the grave. + + If it be wrong to mourn for thee, + The Lord that wrong forgive, + And grant us grace each day, that we + In him may walk and live. + + O could our faith but pierce the gloom + That hovers round our clay, + We might prefer an early tomb, + To one that's old and grey! + + Could we but hear the songs they sing, + Or see the robes they wear, + 'Twould give our resolutions wing, + With longings to be there. + + To see those heavenly harpers young, + Light up the sacred fires; + To see their nimble fingers run + Along the golden wires; + + Would make a man forget his grief, + His conflicts here below, + And give a mother's soul relief, + With languishings to go! + + Would make us all forsake our sin, + And Jesus Christ adore, + And bring the resolution in, + To grieve our God no more. + + Would make us to His house resort, + To weep, and watch, and pray, + Until we gain that blissful port + Where tears are wiped away. + + + + +ON THE FIRST TEXT HEARD SPIRITUALLY. + + ("My heart is fixed."--Psalm lvii. 7.) + + + By grace divine I sing, "My heart is fix'd!" + (Fix'd on the corner stone in Zion laid:) + He spoke, I wept, and heard the blessed text, + And all my wavering, wandering thoughts were stay'd. + + He to me spoke, as with an angel's voice, + And all my fears at once like lightning fled! + O how my troubled soul did then rejoice! + I was as one new risen from the dead! + + Thrice happy bard who wrote such words as these, + So applicable to a case like mine; + Such music surely never reach'd my ears, + Nor words did ever with such lustre shine! + + Though all who read, may not that beauty see, + Nor feel the truths that sin sick hearts console, + Yet, O, it was a blessed text to me, + By which the Lord spoke peace unto my soul! + + 'Tis mystery all! 'Tis like the wind that blows! + I hear its sound, as it sweeps through the wood, + I feel it come, but know not where it goes,-- + And so is every one that's born of God! + + Now I can sing, "My soul is sick of love!"-- + Of love to God, and every one I see; + Nor smiles, nor frowns, my happy soul can move, + A friend or stranger is alike to me! + + But will the Lord such rebels still receive? + Can angels sing for such a wretch as I? + Did Jesus die, that one so vile might live? + So vile, so full of sin and misery! + + Yes! He the sinner doth invite to come; + For rich, for poor, for all his grace is free! + Fly, sinners, fly to Christ, there yet is room + For all who feel their guilt and misery. + + The King is now my Friend, I cannot doubt, + For he His witness doth to me impart; + He'll bind the strong man arm'd, and cast him out, + And pour the living stream into my heart! + + O happy soul, when thus to life restor'd, + Let folly end, where genuine hope begins; + He finds a heaven, who truly finds the Lord, + But he that finds this heaven, must lose his sins! + + O may I learn to do the thing that's right, + My love to God, by true obedience show; + And read, and wrestle, strive, rebuke, and fight, + And watch, and pray, and to perfection grow! + + So when my warfare here on earth is past, + And Death on me his chilling hand shall lay, + God will receive my ransom'd soul at last, + To live and reign with Him, in endless day! + + + + +TO A SQUIRREL IN A CAGE. + + + Little spinner, blithe and gay, + Dancing thus thy life away! + A King his palace might resign, + For a couch as soft as thine! + + Thou canst choose, as suits thee best, + When to toil, and when to rest: + Free from earthly care and strife, + Merrily doth pass thy life. + + Ere the day begins to dawn, + Thou art at thy work alone; + By the early riser seen, + Turning round thy light machine. + + Quick thou tip'st the slender wires, + Which more art than strength requires;-- + Be the weather foul or fair, + Heart and foot are light as air! + + Joyful in thy little jail, + Thou dost spread thy bushy tail: + Playing many a curious prank, + Tumbling like a mountebank! + + When awful thunders o'er thee break, + And earth's foundations seem to shake, + Free from terror and dismay, + Thou heed'st it not, but spin'st away. + + Separated now for good, + From thy cronies of the wood, + Thou no more dost wander free, + Skipping light from tree to tree. + + Though once with thee things better went, + Thou seemest happy and content, + If some kind friend supply thy lack, + By giving thee a nut to crack. + + And when thou hast it in thy paw, + In face of either friend or foe, + The beamings of thine eye impart + The motions of a grateful heart. + + Alone, confin'd within thy cage, + Thou fearest not the battle's rage; + Of courage bold, and action brave, + Though in prison--thou'rt not a slave! + + If life is spared, some other day, + When I shall chance to come this way, + A present unto thee I'll bring, + Thou bonny, little woodland thing! + + Little spinner, blithe and gay, + Dancing thus thy life away! + A Queen her palace might resign, + For a pillow soft as thine! + + + + +TO A BIRD SINGING IN WINTER. + + + Why, why, little bird, so cheerfully sing, + When all things around look so sad? + The prospect at present, as touching the spring, + Gives cause to be sorry, not glad! + + Had April appear'd in loveliest hue, + And made the green meadows look gay, + Thou merrily might'st have mounted thy bough, + And warbled thy minutes away. + + But summer's far off, and still in the copse, + The cold winter's snow doth descend, + Fierce winds, and sharp frosts, may yet blast thy hopes, + And bring thy sweet song to an end. + + By craft of the boys, in bush, or in wood, + Thy foot may be caught in a snare, + And thou whilst seeking a morsel of food, + Be a captive, ere thou art aware. + + Why merrily sing, when thou hast no barn, + In which to lay up thy grain? + Why warble thy notes, while unthankful man, + So often is heard to complain? + + Why cheerfully sing when there are no flowers, + Or sun in the valley to shine? + 'Tis proof that thy prospects are brighter than ours, + Thy heart more contented than mine! + + + + +PETCH'S ELEGY! + + + How short, how frail is our abode on earth! + But yesterday it seems since we sprang forth: + Life doth no sooner sparkle in our eye, + Than we are subject to decline and die! + + A brother Mason now a victim lies + To Death, whose icy hand hath closed his eyes! + He sleeps, forgetful of his toil and care; + In prime of life, no more his voice we hear. + + No more the chisel moves within his hands, + The sounding axe no more his skill demands: + But silence reigns,--his spirit's gone to rest, + His ransom'd soul is number'd with the blest! + + His sins and follies here he did bemoan, + A heavy burden, grievous to be borne; + When lo, the Lord, a week before he died, + Dispers'd the gloom, and all his wants supplied + + In the Redeemer's blood he did believe, + And God his pardoning love to him did give: + Such depth of mercy fill'd us with surprise, + And tears of gratitude flow'd from our eyes! + + He boldly triumph'd in God's pardoning grace, + With love and patience beaming in his face; + Till fainting in the icy arms of death, + He praised his God with his departing breath + + How oft have we in health, and free from pain, + Joyful to labour, cross'd the dewy plain, + Before the morning stars had disappear'd, + Or early harmony the woodlands cheer'd! + + How oft have we been partners through the day, + Or sung in hymns our nightly hours away! + Alas! my partner's gone! Can I forbear + To welcome down my cheek the rolling tear? + + No more on earth his voice shall mix with mine, + In social converse, or in songs divine! + Be it my chief concern to be prepar'd, + Like him to die, and meet my just reward. + + False witnesses did raise a vile report, + And laid things to his charge that he knew not: + But now he's gone to be with Christ on high, + Where he is safe, and may their power defy. + + Now slander and reproach at once may cease; + No more can they disturb our brother's peace! + Their arrows keen can never pierce his soul, + He is departed, and hath reach'd the goal! + + Farewell! but Oh! we hope to meet again, + And join our voices in a nobler strain, + Where Jesus our great Prophet, Priest, and King, + In everlasting majesty doth reign! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON PETCH'S TOMB. + + + Dear Petch belov'd! Thy endless portion's fix'd! + As death hath left thee, so shall judgment find: + Thy spirit, with a world of spirits mix'd, + Hath left its mouldering tenement behind! + + Sprightly and active, thou the other day, + Didst fill thy station in this world of cares; + In life's fair morn, thy soul hath slipt away, + From its delusions, and a thousand snares! + + Thy cheeks a more than common bloom did wear, + Thy voice with music sweetly did agree; + Thy heart was lively, thy complexion fair:-- + Had I chose one for life, I'd chosen thee! + + Perhaps thy mind dwelt on some future scene, + Anticipating more than was allow'd, + When pale affliction drew a veil between, + And death appointed thee an early shroud! + + Methinks I hear thee, while I thus survey + The dreary place where thy remains are laid, + Crying, "Prepare for the great judgment day! + That day which shall thy destiny decide! + + There's no repenting in the gloomy grave, + Nor in that world in which I now exist; + Christ died, that he from hell thy soul might save,-- + Keep his commands, or thou wilt ne'er be blest!" + + Here I should faint, reflecting on my theme, + And recollecting thy great sins now past, + Had not the grace of God, thy passport been, + Had not heaven deign'd to smile on thee at last! + + Hadst thou not given some proof of penitence, + Had I not witness'd oft the bless'd effect, + I might have fear'd, through disobedience, + That Heaven for ever would thy soul reject. + + But Oh, the saving power of grace divine, + Which reach'd the dying thief upon the cross, + Had visited that troubled soul of thine, + Which else had mourn'd its everlasting loss! + + Disrob'd of all his terrors, Death drew nigh,-- + Behind, a band of shining seraphs stood, + He pointed toward the opening sky, + And dipt his dart in the atoning blood! + + His humble victim felt the stingless wound, + And to his God resign'd his fleeting breath; + He view'd Heav'ns portals through the gloom around, + And shouted "Victory!" in the arms of Death! + + Go, blooming youth, and share the rich reward, + Purchas'd for such as thee with blood divine; + Thank God, He ever did thy prayer regard, + And caus'd the light of life on thee to shine! + + May all the household of thy kindred dear, + Hear and regard the caution thou hast given; + Repent, and turn to God, with hearts sincere, + And have, like thee, the earnest of their Heaven! + + May I amidst a world of toil and care, + Still bear in mind my Shepherd's care for me, + Weep o'er my sin, each day for death prepare, + Sigh o'er thy name-stamp'd tool, and think on thee! + + + + +"WHO HATH BELIEVED OUR REPORT?" + + Isaiah liii. 1. + + + "Who hath believed our report?" + The agonizing prophet cried; + Where do the wandering tribes resort, + For whom the King of Glory died? + + His goodness doth before them pass, + The fairest of ten thousand He, + Yet sin bewilders, and alas, + In Him they can no beauty see. + + His Kingly presence they deny, + While round their altars they resort, + Well might the grieved prophet cry, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + "Away with such a one," they cry, + "Let timbrels sound, and damsels sing, + This strange impostor crucify, + For none but Caesar is our King!" + + Slain in the streets the martyrs lie, + Who strove His kingdom to support, + Well might the trembling prophet cry, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + His ministers to make Him known, + Their time, and strength, and souls devote, + Yet oft in sorrow cry alone, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + All we like sheep have gone astray, + From Him we have our faces hid, + We each have turn'd to his own way, + And done the things that were forbid. + + His faithful servants all day long, + Do to repentance us exhort, + Yet nightly raise the mournful song, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + It was for us He was accused, + Sank under sorrows not His own, + Was buffeted, chastis'd, and bruis'd, + To raise us rebels to a throne. + + The nails, the hammer, and the spear, + And reed, with which His head was smote, + All cry in the deaf sinner's ear, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + Yes! both the pulpit and the press, + The thunder of His power proclaim, + Commend His blood and righteousness, + And offer mercy in His name. + + Yet some are always standing by, + Of holy things to make a sport, + And weeping preachers yet may cry, + "Who hath believed our report?" + + Some have believed this report,-- + To them He hath "His arm reveal'd;" + To Him their lives they now devote, + For "by His stripes their souls are heal'd!" + + And on the last important day, + When all shall be to judgment brought, + Thrice happy those who then can say, + We have believed this report. + + But woe to all ungodly men, + Who wonder how these things can be; + They'll wonder more, and perish then,-- + Too late they will their folly see. + + For them, alas, no joys remain, + The Lord of life will cut them short; + And they shall weep and wish in vain, + They had believed our report! + + + + +THE BEES + + + The Sun throws his ray on the lake, + The vessels are scudding along; + Before half the city's awake, + The air is all action and song! + + The Bees haste away to the moors, + And eager their task to complete, + Extract from the bells of the flowers, + Their delicate essences sweet. + + All cheerful they hurry along, + Their storehouse of food to increase, + Till Death puts an end to their song, + The citizen's table to grace. + + Though few can their weapons withstand, + Or few can their forces defeat, + Yet Death with a torch at command, + Soon makes the wing'd armies retreat. + + At once their anxiety droops, + In the grave they lie silent and still, + While strangers are draining the cup, + They made such exertions to fill. + + O may I be bold as the Bee, + In work of a similar cast, + So faithful, industrious, and free, + And labour, and sing to the last! + + + + +CAUTION FROM LIMBER HILL. + + (_Occasioned by a fall during a frost._) + + + 'Twas a bit gone December, + As I well remember, + I met with a rubber, and got some advice; + What harbour to rest in, + What Friend to put trust in, + And how we may walk with slape shoes upon ice! + + In coming down Limber, + Among the young timber, + My foot slipt, and falling, it was a take in, + The night being darkish, + And we a bit larkish, + Instead of a broom bush, I grasped a whin! + + When my fingers were bleeding, + And pain was succeeding, + It set me a thinking,--of that you'll not doubt; + And but for the blunder, + Which lessen'd the wonder, + I else had been punish'd enough to sing out! + + My views being muddy, + I quickly did study, + What things upon earth to compare with this whin; + After walking around 'em, + I very soon found 'em + To be a false friend, or the pleasures of sin! + + A true Friend is precious, + His favour's delicious, + He'll give you a lift, when he sees you break down; + In conflicts distressing, + You'll find him a blessing, + He'll mark your oppressions, and call them his own! + + But a false Friend will vary, + And vow quite contrary, + His heart to your grief will be hard as a stone; + In sorrow or sickness, + He'll pity your weakness, + But only plant under your pillow a thorn! + + While your money is chinking, + He'll answer you winking, + He'll "_Master_," and "_Sir_" you, and come at your call; + But give him a pincher, + You'll find him a flincher, + Instead of a lift, he will fling you a fall! + + So sin is deceiving, + Bewitching, bereaving; + 'Twill pierce through the heart, and invite you to sing; + 'Twill put on fair faces, + To woo your embraces, + But after you've grasp'd it, there follows a sting! + + + + +THE VILLAGE CHURCH IN RUINS! + + (_A decayed Church, a faithful Minister, a Gospel Sermon, a + cold wind, a rainy day, and ten hearers!_) + + + Alas, for our mother, whom age hath o'ertaken, + Her champions are sleeping beneath the cold sod; + She seems both by lover and friend quite forsaken, + Her total dependance is now on her God! + + By tribute to Caesar her battlements crumble, + Her grey headed Elders may weep in despair; + Her once lovely fabric's now ready to tumble, + While no one arises her breach to repair! + + Alas, for the spot where our ancestors bended, + In humble devotion, and brotherly love, + Where early petitions like incense ascended, + And blessings in answer came down from above. + + Alas, for that spot where our tribes did assemble, + In youthful succession, both healthy and gay, + Which then did the Temple of Zion resemble,-- + But briers and thorns have now choked up the way. + + The voice of her Elders in prayer seems to falter, + And her bells ring dolefully over her dead, + Her priest may lament from the porch to the altar, + Her pews are deserted, her virgins are fled. + + Among her old timber, the hollow winds whistle, + And carve out a track for the frost or the snow; + Her walls, while they preach her departing epistle, + Are cover'd with gloom, both above and below. + + Dim through her old windows the daylight is peeping, + The damp floor hath driven the hearers away; + A drop through the roof seems as if it were weeping, + To think how her beauty is gone to decay. + + Of her milk and her honey she still might have boasted, + And offer'd to all in abundance, and free, + But her funds by the drones are now nearly exhausted, + In craftily clipping the wings of the Bee. + + Still thanks be to God, the Gospel is publish'd, + With precept on precept, and line upon line; + Still Ten there are found, who come to be furnish'd, + With heav'nly instruction, in lectures divine. + + The Minister boldly the tidings reported, + And wisely distinguish'd the bad from the good; + Of the present or absent who die unconverted, + That worm eaten pulpit is clear of their blood! + + + + +POETICAL REFLECTIONS. + + (_Composed during a visit from the West._) + + + Once more, my muse, resume thy wonted seat, + And ask permission of the wise and great, + To admit, as tribute due, thy warbling song, + In thy own land, and in thy mother tongue. + + Once more the happy region I behold, + Where I have oft experienc'd joys untold; + Where cattle graze, and crystal fountains flow, + And rivers glide, and healthy breezes blow. + + Here my enraptur'd fancy playful roves, + And walks 'mong flowery banks, or shady groves, + Or nimbly climbs the rugged mountain's height, + And views yon plains with ever new delight. + + Sometimes in fertile orchards I attend, + Where mellow fruits the loaded branches bend; + Sometimes I see old Esk in fury roll, + Or fish, or walk, or swim the silent pool. + + Here did I spend the morning of my days, + And learn'd by grace, to walk in wisdom's ways, + Its scenes can court my soul's affections yet, + Their charms are such they cannot be forgot. + + O yes, the cottage once again I see, + Which oft has prov'd a safe retreat for me, + From wintry tempest, or my neighbour's frown, + From piercing frost, or scorching sun at noon: + + Its walls my castle, and its roof a guard, + As from the cloud the forked lightning glared. + Here did I notice first with wond'ring eye, + The rainbow's beauty, and the bright blue sky;-- + + The morning sun, or the pale evening star, + The moon's eclipse, or comet's sign of war! + Here oft our little tribe have muster'd up, + And from each eye have wiped the crystal drop;-- + + Each other cheer'd when dark misfortune frown'd, + As we our little fire have circled round! + What each had read, or heard in times before, + Each eager open'd out his little store;-- + + Of fairy stories, stormy seas, or sands, + Rocks, woods, or caves, or dens in foreign lands, + Enchanted castles, weapons, sceptres, crowns, + Of friars, giants, hermits, smiles and frowns! + + Thus oft our lonely evenings pass'd away, + Till glad we welcom'd in the morning ray;-- + Ours might have been the cottage of content, + But we an absent Father did lament. + + Now wide dispers'd whom nature so endear'd, + No evening song, no conversation's heard! + The garden walls we did so often climb, + Are desolated by the hand of time! + + Oft on yon sunny bank our feet have been, + Or skimm'd the frozen pond upon the green; + Where I may wander now, and sigh alone, + O'er pleasures past, and never to return! + + O Land belov'd! Thou still art dear to me! + I still behold a comeliness in thee, + Which to express I cannot language find, + Nor vent the deep emotions of my mind! + + Though transient joys have ta'en their lasting flight, + In thee I see a permanent delight,-- + A secret sympathy I can't express, + Which seems to feed the flame of happiness! + + But what is best of all, religion thrives, + The desert sings, the work of God revives! + Cold, frozen hearts have felt the melting flame + Of Jesu's love, and spread abroad the same! + + Sing on, ye tribes, sweet peace ye may secure, + Your wants supplied from field and fountain pure; + Live, and enjoy your privilege great, + Nor ever more forget the mercy seat! + + No midnight revels here your door molest, + Nor wild confusion robs you of your rest; + Here you in silence may your eyelids close,-- + On downy pillows find a sweet repose! + + Here broad back'd mountains raise their heads immense, + And rocky bulwarks rise for your defence, + Whose silent caves present sublimer charms, + Than the shrill trumpet, or than war's alarms. + + O happy man, who safe from winter's frown, + Lies anchor'd in a harbour of his own; + He whose chief treasure is a humble mind, + By truth enlighten'd and by grace refined! + + Who suffers not his flock to go astray, + But early learns his tribes to sing and pray; + Though he but little knows of men and things, + Yet having this he needs not envy Kings! + + Bend, O ye kings! and at God's altar bow,-- + Your God hath left a brighter throne for you; + And costlier robes than yours He laid aside, + And in your stead, He suffer'd, bled, and died! + + Be not deceiv'd, ye all must stoop as low + As a poor beggar, Jesu's love to know: + The beggar, or the king, that throne to gain, + Must know what's meant by being "born again!" + + The number of the faithful, Lord, increase, + And fill their habitations with thy peace; + That all may know, e'en husband, child, and wife, + The benefits of a religious life. + + O still ride on, thou mighty matchless King, + Till all thy favour feel, and praises sing;-- + Thy favour, which alone true joy imparts, + Is thy law written on thy people's hearts. + + By thine omnipotence o'ercome thy foes, + And make them dread thy name, and own thy laws; + O let not sin for ever them deceive, + But spare them breath to pray, repent, and live! + + O may my scatter'd tribe thy voice attend, + And with thy ransom'd few their voices blend: + I long to see them with their names enroll'd + Among thy people, in thine earthly fold. + + O God, 'tis thine, I leave the cause with Thee, + To give them ears to hear, and eyes to see, + And hearts to feel;--apply the sprinkled blood, + And purify, and make them sons of God! + + The ties of Friendship cling around my heart, + While I from much lov'd scenes am forced to part, + And leave the beauties of my native home, + With weary step, far o'er yon hills to roam. + + O may I gain a seat on Zion's hill, + Where I no more shall bid my friends farewell; + Nor mix with parting tears the morning dew, + Nor drop my pen, nor sigh my last adieu! + + + + +THE TWO HOURS' TASK! + + (_A congratulatory Address to the Lambs, on their appearance in + Spring._) + + + Welcome, little peaceful strangers, + To your fields and pastures green, + Fearless of surrounding dangers, + Since no dangers you have seen. + + While the sun is on you beaming, + That you may new strength receive, + Sweet new milk is for you streaming, + That you may partake and live. + + Spring, with all her charms, invites you, + Now to taste the tender blade; + Birds are singing to delight you, + Whether in the sun or shade. + + Nature has with gladness crown'd you, + Woodlands echo at your birth, + Spreads a flowery carpet round you, + Bids you walk in freedom forth. + + But beware of your destroyer, + Crafty Reynard stalks the plains, + To your shepherd cleave then closer, + Or he'll drain your little veins. + + In your merry evening gambols, + Of surrounding foes beware, + Also in your distant rambles, + See you wander not too far. + + Fell destruction round you hovers, + Therefore caution don't despise, + Croaking ravens wait in numbers, + To pick out your little eyes. + + Go not forth without your shepherd, + Be not lifted up with pride, + For if peaceful you would slumber, + You must never leave his side. + + Till your strength is perfected, + Keep within your master's ground, + You shall never be neglected, + If you thus are faithful found. + + See yon lamb that now is bleating, + Him misfortune calls its own; + And mark'd out an early victim, + From the flock he strays alone. + + See the little lonely mourner, + Like a bull-rush hangs his head, + Seeks a solitary corner, + And refuses to be fed. + + Life to him appears a burden, + This his wailings testify, + Earth no pleasures can afford him, + He will shortly droop and die. + + Ere he drink the crystal fountain, + Ere he dance the flowery plain, + Ere he bleat on yonder mountain, + He returns to earth again. + + Emblem of that happy infant + Which was born the other day, + But before it knew bereavement, + From the earth was call'd away. + + Call'd to more delightful regions, + Ere he learn'd his mother tongue, + There to speak a purer language, + There to sing a sweeter song. + + On his Lord to wait attendant, + And to sing redeeming love, + Seated on a throne resplendent, + In a brighter world above. + + Cheerful lambs around us caper, + Woodland songsters hail the morn; + But frail man is doom'd to labour, + Weep, and sweat, and sigh, and mourn. + + Yet there is a higher station, + Man is born for nobler joys, + If he seeks and finds salvation, + He shall sing above the skies. + + Though he be a fallen creature, + Subject here to droop and die, + The "Lamb of God" can change his nature, + And take all his sins away! + + + + +THE COUNTRY BLUNDER! + + + Some lines which I have lately penn'd + May prove a caution to a friend; + Indeed as such they are intended, + And to my friends are recommended. + + But some, though caution'd night and morn, + Will not take heed, howe'er we warn, + But still to make their neighbours fun, + Will obstinately blunder on. + + A servant man in Glazedale glen, + Did lately shoot a fine pea-hen: + Taking her for a pheasant good, + Lately stray'd from the neighb'ring wood. + + But had he studied well the season, + He might have found sufficient reason, + To have convinc'd him, there and then, + 'Twas neither pheasant, cock nor hen! + + For is it common thus to see, + Where there is neither bush nor tree, + A pheasant pick, in open day?-- + Much more upon the King's highway? + + To view her well he did not fail, + Her rosy comb, and fine long tail, + And call'd her without more ado, + A pheasant,--and a fine one too! + + But beast, or bird, it makes no matter, + He takes his gun and jingles at her; + And ere that bird his mercy begs, + She tumbles down, with broken legs! + + He then did speedily run out, + And twin'd her slender neck about, + With pleasure sparkling in his eyes, + Thinking he'd got a famous prize! + + But one whose senses were awake, + Did soon point out his sad mistake; + His countenance did alter, when + He found it was a fine _pea-hen_! + + He thought his neighbours then would scoff, + And poets soon would take him off; + Too late he wish'd and strove in vain, + To bring his hen to life again! + + Ye poachers all, both young and old, + If you don't think my pen too bold;-- + Or may I say, kind gentlemen,-- + Take warning by this same pea-hen! + + Mind well what creatures you abuse; + They all were given by God for use:-- + Lest you should make your neighbours fun, + Look well before you point your gun! + + Or you by chance may shoot a horse;-- + The other's bad,--this would be worse: + Yet such a thing was lately done, + And by a badly managed gun! + + The thorns or thistles, stones or whins, + May prick your legs, or break your shins; + Yet those who'd buy instruction cheap, + Should always "look before they leap!" + + If still my counsel you disdain, + I may hereafter write again; + And should you not mind what you do, + I may inform of some of you! + + + + +A SINNER SAVED BY GRACE. + + + Come, fellow sinner, lend an ear, + And listen while I now declare + What God hath done for me; + His word hath broke my stony heart, + My soul hath felt the piercing smart, + Of guilt and misery! + + Long time I went about distress'd, + Nor day nor night could I find rest, + Till I his voice did hear, + Till I beheld Him on the Cross;-- + My soul did then her burden lose, + And all its slavish fear! + + To Him who doth my foes controul, + I look'd and He hath heal'd my soul, + And all my sins forgiven: + Hence may I turn my feeble sight + To yonder realms of peace and light, + And live and die for Heaven! + + Oh hasten, sinners, to be wise; + While Jesu's mercy loudly cries, + Do you salvation take;-- + But if you're stubborn to the last, + Then be assur'd you will be cast, + Into the burning lake! + + Say you, "Where shall we find the Lord, + According to his Holy Word, + To heal our wounded mind? + While some say here, and others there, + We long to see the temple where + We may salvation find!" + + Wherever two or three are met, + Whose faces Zion ward are set, + He's promis'd there to be; + O seek the Lord without delay, + And cry for mercy night and day, + Till you're from sin set free! + + When you by grace are born again, + Then publish to the sons of men, + That you this path have trod; + That others may for mercy cry, + And saints may lift their voices high, + And glorify their God! + + + + +THE PORTION OF THE JUST. + + + How blessed a thing Hallelujah to sing, + When time shall with us be no more:-- + At the Judge's right hand all the faithful shall stand, + His goodness to see and adore! + + In that heavenly place in the light of his face, + They in mansions of glory shall dwell; + No more the big tear on their face shall appear, + For to sorrow they've bid a Farewell! + + Above and below rich clusters do grow, + Of the grapes of that Canaan so pure; + His welcome so sweet makes the banquet complete, + And they sing of His mercy secure! + + Death vanquish'd, they sing, and spoil'd of his sting, + Of Hell conquer'd by Christ from above; + On the plains of delight with thousands in white, + They shall walk and converse of His love! + + But the wicked, alas, when their sentence shall pass, + Shall at once into darkness be driven, + Fierce pains to endure with spirits impure, + Who were hurl'd from their places in heaven! + + Oh, if thou dost crave above all things to have + A seat with thy Saviour divine, + No longer delay, nor rest night nor day, + Till a scriptural title is thine! + + + + +THE HAPPY CHOICE! + + + Jesus! thy name to me hath charms, + Outvieing all beneath the sun; + Thy secret love my bosom warms, + And in my soul 'tis heav'n begun! + + No peace like that thy presence brings, + No joys like those thou dost impart; + Anon, with healing in thy wings, + Thou com'st to heal the broken heart! + + Thy footsteps may I always see, + Under thy shadow may I dwell! + I give my life, my all to thee, + And triumph o'er the powers of Hell! + + Thou dost my soul with rapture fill, + No more for mammon I contend; + I glory in the joys I feel, + While thou dost comfort and defend! + + O let thy name be always sweet + As honey, from the rock, that flows; + So shall I gladly turn my feet, + Where'er my blessed Master goes! + + + + +ON THE DEATH OF JOHN MORLEY. + + + "Heard you that groan? 'Twas from a dying man! + A man just gone into Eternity!" + "Redeem thy time! Thy life is but a span!" + That language,--Hark! It speaks to you and me! + + A man of health, and strength, and spirits gay, + The solemn call seem'd distant to his view; + But, lo, how soon the victim's snatch'd away + By Death's rude hand, and bids the world adieu! + + Fearless of danger, he, twelve days before, + Went to the field to share the common lot, + With the sharp scythe to cut the grass or flower, + But, ah, the secret lesson he forgot! + + "_All flesh_ is grass, or like the flowery field, + So soon 'tis faded, wither'd, or cut down; + To time's embrace its charms are forc'd to yield, + The winds pass over it, and it is gone!" + + When heated by the sun's meridian ray, + And parch'd with thirst, to drink he felt inclin'd, + Dropping his scythe, poor Morley took his way, + In hopes some cool, refreshing stream to find! + + To yonder river to receive his death, + With sweat, like dewdrops, hanging on his brow, + He hastes--nor thinks he must resign his breath, + And to the lonely church-yard shortly go! + + Thus bathed in sweat the river's bank he gains, + And drinks, and washes in the crystal flood; + When lo! an icy coldness chills his veins, + Affects his senses, and inflames his blood! + + He medical assistance quickly sought, + Excessive pain depriv'd his eyes of sleep; + Physicians soon their powerful medicines brought, + But ah! the fatal dart had pierc'd too deep! + + The fever rages, not a limb is free, + It mocks the power of remedies applied; + Friends weep, and wish for his recovery;-- + Alas! their warmest wishes are denied. + + His fate seems hard, but yet Heav'n sees it fit, + And Heaven's will is best, we must agree;-- + Sooner or later we must all submit + To Death's loud call,--to nature's stern decree! + + The surgeon blushes while his patient bleeds, + All hope soon vanishes of life below; + With hasty step the monster Death proceeds, + Lifts his fell dart, and strikes the fatal blow! + + His wife distracted doth her loss deplore, + His children weep as though their hearts would break; + They shrieking cry, "Our father is no more! + O where shall we our lonely refuge seek? + + Where shall we find so true, so kind a friend? + Where shall we find a sharer in our grief? + Where shall we find a Father to attend,-- + To wipe our tears, or point us to relief?" + + O haste! O haste! the house of prayer attend, + And plead your cause, bow'd at your Saviour's feet; + To Heaven daily let your prayers ascend, + And there a Friend, and Father you shall meet! + + Poor Morley's dead! the startled village cries! + His wife, a widow, has in tears to grieve! + While he, outstretched, now pale and silent lies, + Nor tongue, nor eye, nor hand a motion give! + + No more his whistle echo's through the grove, + Nor clashing gates pursue his loaded steed; + No more he through the fields doth rove, + To play the flute, or blow the rustic reed! + + No more the rolling flood's at his controul, + Nor willing servant runs when he shall bid; + But mournfully I hear the death bell toll, + To hail him welcome to his lonely bed! + + But Oh, the soul! That ever during spark, + Kindled in him by the Almighty's breath, + Still lives, though we her passage cannot mark!-- + She lives, though she hath pass'd the vale of death! + + Where has she fled? What is her portion now, + While I upon his death thus meditate? + 'Tis mystery this we mortals must not know,-- + And cries, "Prepare ye, for a future state!" + + Her portion's that for which she was prepar'd;-- + Though suddenly remov'd from earth below, + No more can she reject her just reward, + She shares eternal happiness, or woe! + + To trace her flight might but insult her King, + Since He for guilty sinners once did bleed!-- + The muse in silence drops her feeble wing, + Refusing any further to proceed! + + + + +THE SERVANT'S ADDRESS TO HIS MASTER; + + _On deriding him for becoming a Methodist!_ + + + Master, I beg you'll pardon, while I speak, + The liberty I now presume to take; + And trust the brief apology you'll hear, + Will please, if you will please to lend an ear. + + "Wilt thou forsake the Church?" did you not say? + "And strive to get to Heaven some nearer way? + A better way perhaps by you believ'd:-- + But 'twill be well if you are not deceiv'd?" + + Deceiv'd, or not, we are resolv'd to go; + If Christ be with us, all is well we know! + He is our Leader, He marks out the way, + Inviting all to come, and none to stay! + + The Church, or doctrine, we've no cause to blame, + 'Tis to ourselves that we ascribe the shame! + The way to heav'n was certainly made plain, + When told to "run so that we might obtain." + + Our prayers and praises were so faint and few, + We thought one day in seven would surely do, + To praise Him who is worthy of more praise, + Than our best powers are qualified to raise! + + Oft when we did approach the throne of grace, + Our hearts and thoughts were in some other place. + O shameful truth! And yet it is most true! + But conscience told us this would never do! + + The nearest way to Heaven that we can go, + Is cleaving close to Christ while here below; + 'Tis He that can our sinking footsteps stay, + And vain the man who seeks another way! + + The man who truly has this race begun, + Will see no time to stand, but strive to run; + The night is coming, and will soon be here, + He'll therefore oft betake himself to prayer: + + Lest strength should fail, or he should grow luke-warm, + And his weak soul, the enemy disarm! + That Book declares, whose Author is "The Truth," + The careless soul, "He'll spew out of his mouth!" + + Hence, doth he see he must be cold or hot; + Must either have the Spirit of Christ, or not:-- + If on examination he lacks this, + God's Book declares that "he is none of His!" + + If not a child of God, a child of hell, + And dying thus, he must with devils dwell;-- + And when his earthly hopes have taken flight, + Be then shut up in everlasting night! + + A sinner when he sees himself aright, + Sees that his brightest day is turned to night; + The things that once were his delight and joy, + Do all his fondest hopes at once destroy! + + God's Book like Sinai's mount to him appears, + Its sentences like thunder stun his ears! + He strives to soothe himself, but strives in vain, + Till God, to him the secret doth explain. + + He sees and feels the awful load of sin, + Nor can aught ease the grief that he is in, + Until he hears God's cheering, still small voice, + Which calms his fears, and bids his soul rejoice! + + A man must know his sins on earth forgiven, + Or he'll not read his title clear for Heaven; + If this you think too strong to be believ'd, + I'm sure, in death, that you will be deceiv'd! + + I am resolv'd a pilgrim now to be, + Let worldly men say what they will of me; + And through the grace of God, though Hell resist, + I'll live and die a faithful Methodist! + + I see the pilgrim's life is far the best, + Scorn'd by the world, but yet by Jesus blest! + When death shall come, the Heav'nly land in view, + In peace, I'll bid this world of sin Adieu! + + + + +SABBATH MORNING MUSINGS. + + "_I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house + of the Lord._" Psalm. cxxii. 1. + + + How do I love thy courts, O Lord! + What glories they unfold: + The joys they do to me afford, + More precious are than gold! + + The very gates through which I pass, + Are beautiful to me! + What numbers here beneath the grass, + In silent slumber lie! + + While I approach this solemn ground, + My thoughts I will controul;-- + The tolling bell, with mournful sound, + Affects my inmost soul! + + While musing o'er the silent dead, + What wonders do I see! + The very dust on which I tread, + Once liv'd, and mov'd like me! + + Here things mysterious I perceive, + Things which I can't explain;-- + Wak'd by that voice which Heav'n shall give, + This dust shall "rise again!" + + Then some to everlasting life, + Exultingly shall rise; + While some to everlasting death, + Shall go with weeping eyes! + + Such as we sow, that shall we reap; + The sowing time is now:-- + O may I watch, and faithful, keep + My station at the plough! + + O what's this world with all its joys, + But a delusive dream; + The dead, as speaking witnesses, + All testify the same. + + They preach in lectures loud and plain, + Though silent, cold, and deep; + They tell me, if the earth remain, + I soon like them shall sleep! + + They cry to all, "Repent, believe, + And you shall pardon'd be; + Unless that blessing you receive, + You're lost eternally!" + + The dial faithful to its task, + The sun in yonder sky, + Both show to us without a mask, + How swift the moments fly! + + "Redeem thy time!" they seem to say, + "Thy life is but a span; + For what are three score years and ten? + And that's the age of man!" + + Here on a level all are laid, + Here none the conquest have! + The robes that once the rich array'd, + Are tarnish'd by the grave! + + The cheek which blossom'd like the rose, + Has lost its lovely charms; + That beauteous form the lover chose, + Is clasp'd in Death's cold arms. + + All earthly hopes, and earthly joys, + And prospects must decay;-- + But they who serve their God aright, + Shall live in endless day! + + How wondrously the scene is chang'd! + How lovely they appear! + I view them in their state arrang'd, + With more delight than fear! + + Ah! once the scene was not so fair, + I scarce could read a stone! + But grace can conquer slavish fear,-- + With joy I look thereon! + + The opening grave oft spoil'd the hinge, + On which my fancy play'd; + The skulls and bones would make me cringe, + While I their forms survey'd. + + Chill horror used to haunt my breast, + While sin therein remain'd;-- + But Jesu's name be ever blest, + I have his favour gain'd! + + 'Tis faith perfumes destruction's breath, + Our Jesu's strong to save; + 'Tis faith removes the sting of death, + The terrors of the grave! + + How oft have I in giddy maze, + This sacred passage trod! + Not thinking 'twas so pure a place, + Much less the house of God! + + His mercy doth preserve me still, + He doth not always chide; + But waits that all His love may feel, + Since he for all hath died. + + Behind some lofty pillar here, + In silence let me steal; + And tread His courts with humble fear, + And low before him kneel. + + With fearful, trembling, broken heart, + To him I lift mine eyes; + And wait till He his love impart, + And conscience bid me rise! + + Then will I praise Thee, O my God, + When in my heart it glows! + And gladly wait to hear thy Word, + And catch it as it flows! + + Then may I keep thy sabbaths pure, + And still thy house attend; + Until that sabbath shall commence, + Which never hath an end! + + + + +LINES ON LEAVING FRYUP, IN SEARCH OF WORK. + + + I'm sorry, Fryup! thee to leave, + But thou deniest what I crave, + Though I have ask'd with tears! + Oft have I drunk at thy pure rills, + And labour'd 'mongst thy moorland hills, + For many toilsome years! + + 'Twas oft to me a painful task, + Thine aid in time of need to ask, + So often sought before; + And many times my small demand, + Was torn, as with a trembling hand, + Reluctant from thy store! + + Oft have I rang'd thy verdant woods, + Where roses bursting from their buds, + Have struck my wondering eye! + And oft have I thy woodbines cropt:-- + While from my hand the sweet flowers dropt, + I've thought,--I too must die! + + Here, with each morning's early dawn, + I lov'd to walk the flowery lawn, + To hear thy warblers sing! + Or when at eve their songs were mute, + I've sooth'd my fancy with my flute, + And made thy woodlands ring! + + I've seen thy mountains clad with snow, + While shelter'd in the vale below, + 'Midst hospitable friends! + For all their kindnesses to me, + May Heav'n bless every family, + And make them full amends! + + But trade is now so dull and dead, + A man can hardly earn his bread, + In winter's frost and snow: + So I must take my staff in hand, + And travel to some distant land, + Till here more plenty grow! + + I grieve to leave the Sunday School, + Where I with gratitude of soul, + Have taught with great delight, + The youthful, rising sons of men, + To steer safe past the gulf of sin, + By glorious gospel light. + + With men of understanding heart, + I always joy'd to act my part, + Where I may teach no more:-- + Where I, myself have oft been taught, + And blessings gain'd beyond my thought, + From Heaven's bounteous store! + + As when the sailor points the keel, + For ancient Greenland's icy field, + So I my course must steer! + I need assistance at the helm, + Lest life's rough sea should overwhelm + My soul,--no harbour near! + + For quicksands and contrary winds, + And enemies as well as friends, + I still expect to find: + There is a Friend who lives above, + To all who do His precepts love, + He proves both true and kind! + + To Him I will address my prayer; + My little bark unto His care, + With confidence I'll trust! + A steady course, O may I steer, + And if to Him I prove sincere, + He'll land me safe at last! + + + + +THE SWALLOW! + + (_On being deprived of her nest by some Sparrows._) + + + A Swallow one evening was sweeping along, + 'Mongst such as against her were spiteful, + An impudent Sparrow requested a song, + Affirming her voice was delightful! + The innocent Swallow consented, + But afterwards sadly repented; + For the nest she had been at such pains to erect, + She was soon from enjoying prevented! + + To the ridge of the barn they hurried along, + As fast as their feathers could speed them, + Where she tweedled and sung, in her African tongue, + Her favourite anthem on Freedom! + While she was this Sparrow amusing, + The rest were her labours abusing;-- + They had taken possession both of garret and floor, + And were in her best chamber carousing! + + When the Sparrow beheld by the flood in her eye, + How much this bad treatment did grieve her, + With contempt in his manner he bade her good by + Nor pitied, nor tried to relieve her! + Still her sweet little song did not alter, + Her delicate voice did not falter; + But she tweedled and sung what was next to be done, + As though she alone was the faulter! + + Reproving the Sparrows she then seem'd to say, + "To you we are surely no strangers; + To pay you this visit, in crossing the sea,-- + We encounter a great many dangers. + O Sparrows! why have you betray'd us? + 'Tis cruelty thus to invade us! + We bring summer with us, take nothing away, + O Sparrows! why have you betray'd us?" + + + + +A CALL TO THE CARELESS! + + + Awake! O ye sleepers, awake! + Or soon you will smart 'neath the rod! + Be thankful you're not in the lake, + That burns with the anger of God! + + Your life as a vapour will prove, + Your days as a shadow will flee; + Then seek to have treasure above, + And struggle from sin to be free! + + O sinners! be honest and yield + To the Spirit of God when He strives; + Or you will be slain in the field, + When He with His army arrives! + + This Jesus shall conquer the world! + The proud and the lofty subdue! + With terrible banners unfurl'd, + Shall sift both believers and you:-- + + The poor, not because he is poor, + Nor the rich for his riches regard; + But thoroughly purging His floor, + Appoint unto each his reward! + + Believers! who wish to be whole;-- + A fountain long open hath been, + To wash out the spots of the soul,-- + O hasten to wash and be clean! + + When sin shall experience its death, + Then you the grand secret shall know; + Shall Heaven enjoy upon Earth, + And be happy and useful below! + + + + +TO A HORSE, DYING ALONE! + + + Poor, hapless beast, thus left by all below, + Amongst the noblest of God's creatures, thou, + Once free from pain, + Didst trip the plain; + But Oh! how much thy case is alter'd now! + + Thy groom and master seem to stand aloof! + Is it, because of thee they've had enough? + Is it respect, + Or sheer neglect, + That of their care thou hast no stronger proof? + + Perhaps they do not like to hear or see + Thy last deep groan, thy dying agony! + The grass upspurn'd, + Thine eye upturn'd, + Bespeak its weight to heedless passers by! + + That hoarse deep sigh, the sad effect of sin, + Proclaims the depth of agony within! + On man and beast, + Greatest and least, + Grim Death doth feed, and glad his victim win! + + The blue shade gathers on thy glassy eye, + So sternly fix'd upon the evening sky; + Once full of light, + Through darkest night, + It proved its master's guide to home and family! + + Thy lovely form, once beauteous to behold, + For which thy master parted with his gold; + And this thy dappled hide, + Though once its owner's pride, + Now for a thing of nought will soon be sold! + + That ear through which the slightest sound inspir'd + Vigour, when pressing business oft requir'd; + Already cold as clay, + Doth now inactive lay, + Nor startles at that gun which now is fired! + + Thy frolics and thy gambols now are past, + Thy last stage is run;--thou art dying fast: + Perhaps ere I, + At home shall be, + Thou unattended wilt have breath'd thy last! + + The stall is vacant where thou lov'dst to be, + The curb and saddle now are nought to thee! + The whip and spur, + Thou car'st not for, + But leav'st to others as thy legacy! + + While I string up my rhymes to make them chord, + And thus thy melancholy fate record, + Perhaps near thee, + In some old tree, + The lonely night bird sings thy funeral ode! + + +MORAL. + + Some while their cup is full can laugh at Death, + And light esteem that power which lends them breath; + But be that far, + As yon pale star, + From him who now its progress witnesseth! + + Did men but see how near is his approach, + They would with morning sun, or nightly torch, + Themselves prepare, + And search with care, + And strictly watch each avenue and porch! + + Nor would they rest, at business or in bed, + Till every foe was found, and captive led; + Till all the soul, + From stains most foul, + Was wash'd, or till the contrite tear was shed! + + A fountain from the mount of God doth flow, + For all who will take time and pains to go, + Whose healing stream, + Doth freely teem, + To wash polluted sinners white as snow! + + A soul thus wash'd shall joyful rise again, + By Death unscar'd, and on angelic wing, + Shall mount above, + To Him whose love + And power deprive the monster of his sting! + + + + +MUSINGS DURING AFFLICTION; + +OR + +THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS. + + "_He shall fly away as a dream._" (Job. xx. 8.) + + + While here I sit musing alone, + Not sharing the toils of the day, + My spirit doth inwardly groan, + At the symptoms I feel of decay. + + My care burden'd mind can't be still, + Though the external fabric be maim'd; + Some part must be working the will + Of Him who that fabric hath framed. + + The merchant looks over his books, + And hopes well to finish the day; + So life hath some corners and nooks, + It might not be wrong to survey. + + If the morning of life we behold, + When all seems delightful and bright, + The rosebud doth scarcely unfold, + But 'tis gone as a dream of the night! + + If to youth our attention we turn, + When all is enchanting and free; + When very few know how to mourn, + And all things seem pleasant and gay. + + A something we sought in the fields,-- + Alas! as oft sought it in vain! + The joys that such scenery yields, + Are such as we cannot retain. + + We sought in the meadows and groves, + In the woods, by the rivers and streams; + But all our vain hopes and our loves, + Were like wood to the furnace's flames! + + The old pathway still puts us in mind, + Though its stones are forsaken and green, + Of youthful affections, so kind, + Though now scarce a vestige is seen! + + We long have been wandering abroad, + And have learn'd to sorrow and weep; + While some have been lost on the road, + And others have sunk in the deep! + + In the fire-side circle we sought, + But found by the glimmering light, + That soon as the shadows we caught; + They fled like a dream of the night! + + There were some whom we knew in the flesh, + Seem'd happy, and healthy, and strong; + But before they obtain'd their wish, + They, alas! in a moment were gone! + + 'Twas gloomy and dark at their end, + No light in their death did appear; + That happiness would them attend, + Was hoped--but hope turn'd to despair! + + Alas! how neglectful they lived, + How sad an example they set, + How many fair youths were deceiv'd, + Who are not yet free from the net! + + They surely had time to repent, + To weep, and to sorrow, and pray; + But time that should thus have been spent, + Was wantonly squander'd away. + + They quick were cut off at a stroke, + Were hurried away from our sight; + The bonds of their friendship all broke, + They fled like a dream of the night. + + Though long in the grave they have lain, + And long since have gone to decay, + Remembrance can raise them again, + As fresh as they were in life's day. + + We remember the look of the face, + The language that glanc'd from the eye, + The cough, or the laugh, or some grace, + By which we their forms can descry. + + How short our acquaintance appears, + Our pleasures, how swift was their flight! + Before we could number their years, + They fled as a dream of the night! + + In manhood we sought it abroad, + And mix'd with the mirthful and gay, + When liberty lengthen'd the cord, + And tempted our feet far astray. + + Then away to the races and fairs, + When seasons and friends did invite; + To the shows, to the stalls, and their wares, + And to music and dancing at night! + + We sought it by land and by sea,-- + Where'er we directed our eyes, + All said, "Pleasure is not in me! + My beauty is all a disguise!" + + O Happiness! where dost thou dwell? + O where shall we search with success? + From the court to the cottage or cell, + All seem the abodes of distress! + + Oft have we reflected with pain, + And fancied while counting the cost, + If restor'd to childhood again, + We'd recover the thing we had lost. + + Then happiness seem'd to be ours,-- + We roved by the river or glen; + The birds, and the bushes, and flowers, + Appear'd as a paradise then! + + Yon hill, and the stone on the plain, + Remind us whenever we pass, + Where we in a fairy-like train, + Have scamper'd about on the grass! + + Gone by are our childhood and youth, + And gone is each transient delight; + They told us,--who told us the truth,-- + They'd pass as a dream of the night. + + By the faithful discourse of a friend, + We were told, whether cloudy or bright, + This life, long or short, in the end, + Would depart as a dream of the night:-- + + That in vain among shadows and flowers, + We sought satisfaction within; + True pleasure could never be ours, + Till the heart had been broken for sin + + The heart, until such was the case, + Was so puff'd up with pride and deceit, + That no matter how splendid the feast, + That root bitter'd every thing sweet! + + He would prove by the sacred page, + And by men of experience too, + It had been so in every age, + And continues so, even till now! + + Until sin was expos'd to the light, + In the glass of the Gospel was view'd, + We could not enjoy true delight,-- + Till the heart had been chang'd and renew'd. + + Nor need we now ask any more, + Why a thing which so many pursue, + And to gain will all things explore, + Should be truly possess'd by so few. + + In all earth's extensive domain, + 'Midst all the sweet breezes that blow, + In mountain, or forest, or plain, + Where Eden like luxuries grow;-- + + Amid all the fair branches and free, + Inviting their clusters to share, + One tree, and only one tree, + This heav'nly manna will bear. + + That tree of celestial seed, + By heav'nly culture doth rise;-- + That man from his sins might be freed, + 'Twas sent as a gift from the skies! + + But many the tree did deride, + And oft of its fruit did complain, + Since to gain it they often had tried, + But return'd to their folly again! + + They made it a matter of doubt, + That it had been planted for them:-- + Repentance, and Faith were the root, + And Holiness grew on the stem! + + Some as they pass'd by gave a glance, + Made remark on the wilderness bare; + And affirm'd with eye all askance, + No semblance of beauty was there. + + Though to plant it the Saviour of men + Hath sorrow'd, and suffer'd, and bled; + And His Spirit pour'd out as a stream, + Hath His heav'nly influence shed. + + You see, when the secret is told, + And the riddle's expounded to all, + It was planted in Eden of old, + But had been torn up by the fall! + + So Christ hath in love to His church, + Thus rear'd this plant of renown, + To screen when the sun's rays might scorch, + And to cheer when our spirits are down. + + Whoe'er of its produce partakes, + Whatever objections arise, + Through the Cross, and the choice that he makes, + Shall be holy, and happy, and wise! + + Then we to His temple shall run, + And worship with joy and delight; + Our trials while under the sun, + Will pass as a dream of the night! + + + + +THE PLAY! + + On being solicited to attend a Theatre, by two young women, who + urged their entreaties by the argument, "There is no harm in + attending the Play!" + + + Ye daughters of Albion's flourishing isle, + Come listen awhile to my lay; + Defending your morals, you say with a smile, + "There's no harm in attending the Play!" + + Ye Theatre gallants, and deep witted men, + Whose counsels so many obey, + Come lend a poor ignorant rustic a pen, + And he'll help you to plead for the Play! + + If you are not immortal, but end when you die, + As some have the courage to say, + Why need you look out for a mansion on high, + You've nothing to fear from the Play! + + If you are immortal, yet free from the fall, + And never have wander'd astray; + If you have no sin to repent of at all, + You've nothing to fear from the Play! + + If Christ in His word, has left no command, + For people to watch and to pray, + If an house cannot fall that is built on the sand, + There's no harm in attending the Play! + + Not calling in question your baptismal vow, + If life's like a long summer's day, + And you have not to reap such fruit as ye sow, + There's no harm in attending the Play! + + If the Christian's creed from the truth be reverse, + And the fair crown of life can decay; + If the Bible be false, and Religion a farce, + There's no harm in attending the Play! + + Should a visit from Death come and put you in mind + Of your frail habitation of clay, + You may try to obstruct the unwelcome design, + With the transient delights of the Play! + + If a faithful reproof you should happen to meet, + You can soon turn your faces away, + And pass by the blind and the lame in the street, + And carry your cash to the Play! + + But if Parsons themselves so often attend, + Then surely their followers may; + And no wonder that they so well can defend, + The moral effects of the Play. + + If Wesley and Whitfield have pleaded in vain, + And led their disciples astray; + Let Simpson and Hervey in silence remain, + You've nothing to fear from the Play. + + If you of your time have to give no account, + At the last, the great Judgment day, + The troubles of life you may quickly surmount, + By clapping them off at the Play. + + If safe 'midst seduction and ruin you roam, + You may laugh at the stoppers away, + Who sit pining and pulling long faces at home, + And are missing the joys of the Play. + + Should the roof be crush'd in, and you kill'd we'll suppose, + Why some angel would bear you away, + To some distant region of milder repose, + Where your spirit might dream of the Play. + + Having no tribulation, no robe wash'd in blood, + Nor tears that need wiping away, + You might sing in those realms to the praise of your god, + How oft you had been at the Play. + + + + +THE REMOTE CHRISTIAN. + + + Deep in a glen, remote and wild, + And far from affluence, + A cottage stood, and heaven smil'd, + Upon that residence. + + A couple liv'd there many years, + In love and unity; + Who careful in this vale of tears, + Had rear'd a family. + + No costly goods their cot adorn, + No shining liveries wait; + For them no huntsman sounds his horn, + No carriage at the gate. + + A simple, honest peasant, free, + Not with much learning stored; + Though thus remote, yet happily, + Had sought and found the Lord. + + Where neither moth nor rust can harm, + Nor thieves can ere invade, + Beyond the reach of human arm, + Was his heart's treasure laid. + + Around his farm, or in his field, + The moor birds hatch'd and fed; + And when at work, the lapwing cried, + And flutter'd o'er his head. + + While thus his little field he drain'd, + Or temper'd the wild sod, + His household too with care were train'd, + To love and fear their God. + + The field, the garden, and the tree, + For him their produce bore, + His table too, the bee supplied, + From her delicious store. + + The Lord who thus his substance blest, + Did all his wants supply; + And pleasantly to quench his thirst, + A brook ran murmuring by. + + I saw him on his dying bed, + When strength began to fail, + I saw him lift his languid head,-- + And heard his happy tale. + + He then began to bless the day, + His sins had been made known, + When he began to weep and pray, + And look'd to Christ alone. + + He bless'd that Book his heart had cheer'd, + And tried its worth to tell; + He bles'd that Blood which once was shed, + To save his soul from hell. + + Yes! Christ to him was precious then, + His company was sweet; + He said, His love was in his heart, + The world beneath his feet. + + This, when the monster Death arriv'd, + Did solid comfort bring; + That blood he felt had quite depriv'd + The monster of his sting. + + "This body chang'd, shall soon," said he, + "With saints and angels join, + And sing to all eternity, + The depths of Love Divine!" + + + + +SOLITARY REFLECTIONS! + + (_Occasioned by the death of a newly married pair, who drowned + themselves, after living together three weeks._) + + + On Esk's old bank the watery willows weep, + Where wife and husband launch'd into the deep;-- + And from their cottage sought an early grave, + To end their jarring, in the peaceful wave + + Ah, hapless pair! who can withhold the tear, + When he the melancholy place draws near! + The dire event to future times will prove, + The short enjoyment of your wedded love! + + How apt are earthly prospects to deceive, + And leave her disappointed sons to grieve! + How oft will trifling things the mind perplex, + Where grace doth not her influences mix! + + The morning shines,--to church they haste away, + And noisy guns proclaim the wedding day; + Within three weeks to the dark grave they're borne, + To slumber till the Resurrection morn! + + Around, the neighbours mourn their hapless lot, + And weeping children haunt the dreary spot; + The lippering wave, rais'd by the nightly gale, + Tells to the Moon her melancholy tale! + + + + +ON SOME WHO HAD LEFT US, AND SPOKEN DISRESPECTFULLY OF US! + + "_There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and + yet is not washed from their filthiness._" (Proverbs xxx. 12.) + + + Yes! once they met with us, and gave us the hand, + Uniting to sing and to pray; + But long could not bear the rigid command, + So off they went lilting away! + + Forsaking the vulgar, whom now they despise, + For doctrines more learned and pure;-- + This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes, + This doctrine they could not endure! + + They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain, + Our faults and our failings expose; + Because this perfection they cannot attain, + They'll plead for their muffs and their boas! + + So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks, + They'll laugh at a sinner in tears; + Their prayers are lock'd up in their finely bound books, + While they're trimming their necks and their ears! + + The new birth's convulsions they cannot have felt, + Or they dare not speak as they do; + Their heart is too proud into nothing to melt, + And must, while to mammon they bow. + + Whenever their dwelling you chance to approach, + Of their soft invitation beware; + The pharisee's leaven, the good man's reproach, + And the seat of the scorner are there! + + To folks of high breeding they offer their pledge, + 'Gainst others to raise a complaint; + They'll skim on the surface, and trim off the edge, + To pass for a dignified saint! + + The God of Elijah who sees through the heart, + These specious impostors will spurn, + And send them in spite of their cunning and art, + Where they will eternally mourn! + + + + +THERE IS A GOD! + + "_The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God._" (Psalm + xiv. 1) + + + There is a God who rules above! + And man's the object of His love! + And Jesus, His beloved Son, + Hath bled, and died to make this known. + + Though man his attributes deny, + And utter daring blasphemy, + He shall be conquer'd from above, + By Justice, Judgment, or by Love. + + Though he be lusty now, and strong, + And bold in ribaldry and song, + A time will come when he must flit, + And to a stronger arm submit. + + Then Death will disregard his groans, + And time will melt his giant bones, + If no contrition he shall feel, + His sins will sink him into hell. + + While there he drinks the bitter cup, + The dust shall lick his marrow up; + His tongue within the grave shall rot, + While name and memory are forgot. + + On that dread morn when all shall rise, + The righteous whom he did despise, + Shall over him dominion have, + And all the terrors of the grave. + + + + +CONFIRMATION. + + + The stars recede, the morn appears, + So long anticipated! + The air which now the spirit cheers, + With shouts is agitated! + + The rustics full of mirth and glee, + Are big with expectation, + Of what they are to hear and see, + When they're at Confirmation! + + The road is fill'd from side to side, + With bonny lads and lasses; + With country bloom, and village pride, + Gigs, horses, mules, and asses! + + With whip and spur, they dash along, + As though to fair or races; + With artificial feathers hung, + And veils before their faces! + + But few know what they're going to do, + Or they are strangely lied on; + They're careless of the solemn vow, + As is the steed they ride on! + + They go, because their neighbours go, + Without consideration; + And think all pass for Christians, who + Are pass'd at Confirmation! + + A few there are, but few we fear, + Their faith by works expressing; + And oft in private on their knees, + They wrestle for a blessing! + + The greater part of them by far, + Will carry a Cain's offering; + They're strangers to the morning star, + To royal David's offspring! + + A hope they have, but cannot tell + On what that hope is grounded;-- + Thus like some old Egyptian spell, + It cannot be expounded! + + The carnal mind still bears the sway, + For want of resolution; + And scatter'd tribes, still day by day, + Profane the institution! + + In spite of lectures orthodox, + Of Bishops, prayers, and caution, + They, greedy as the thirsty ox, + Drink in the deadly potion! + + The scribes may write with mournful pen, + The Church's lamentation; + While year by year, they seek in vain, + The fruits of Confirmation! + + + + +THE MAN OF THE WORLD! + + + From a boy much indulg'd, he grew up to a man, + And had liberty almost unbounded; + Nor scarce ever thought of this life's little span, + With prospects of plenty surrounded! + + His steed, like himself, in high spirits he views, + As it snuffs at the fresh flowing fountain; + On which oft at daybreak he brushes the dews, + And gallops o'er valley and mountain! + + His cheek round and fat, wears the hue of the rose, + He seems quite a stranger to sorrow; + And while on his sofa his limbs find repose, + He laughs loudly, and talks of to-morrow! + + "To-morrow," says he, "you must call up the hounds, + As soon as the light is appearing!"-- + Not thinking that Death while rambling his rounds, + To his mansion a message is bearing, + + "To-morrow," says he, "we'll unkennel the fox, + Or in his old cabin we'll crush him; + Or when we have got him away from the rocks, + In spite of Old Harry we'll brush him! + + And then we will dine on the lamb or the goose, + Which, if he had liv'd would have fill'd him; + Then o'er a full bumper we'll have a carouse, + And we'll sing where he fell, and who kill'd him!" + + But ah! when life's stern disappointment he meets, + Like a lion imprison'd he grieves, + That he who expected so much of life's sweets, + So soon of its bitters receives! + + Disease o'er his fortified barriers leaps, + And with internal pain soon afflicts him;-- + Next into his chamber the pale monster creeps, + And singles him out as his victim! + + Like a leaf that in autumn falls dead from the tree, + Soon a train is seen weeping behind him:-- + A visit I made, his improvements to see, + And I look'd, but alas, could not find him! + + + + +THE RULE OF CONTRARY! + + + Some men have Rules so incorrect, + They almost always vary; + And some make Rules to gain respect, + But I'm for one contrary! + + Some strive to gain the smiles of men, + But I prefer their frown; + The torrent of my pride to stem, + And keep ambition down! + + The praise of men's an empty thing, + And crowns and sceptres vain, + To him who seeks the "living spring," + As parch'd lands look for rain! + + Some recommend the hearty laugh, + But I prefer the tear, + Which tells me that my heart is soft, + My hope of heaven is clear! + + Some say, "Give me the tavern song!" + But I prefer the sigh, + Which though unnoticed by the throng, + Yet pierces to the sky! + + Some say, "Give me that pleasing look, + Which does the fancy win!" + But give me one that's plain without, + If she be fair within! + + Some plead for ornamental dress, + The concert and the ball; + Except the Robe of Righteousness, + Let me be stript of all! + + Some love with dealers dark to dwell, + And glory in the night; + But I would shun the road to hell, + Therefore I love the light! + + Some love their minds with tales to feed, + Of regions yet untrod;-- + When I've a little time to read, + Give me the Book of God! + + Some praise a head of natural wit + And worldly wisdom full; + Without the truths of Holy Writ, + Give me an empty skull! + + The jet, the gold, or ivory cross, + By many is admir'd; + But I esteem the blood of Him, + Who on the cross expir'd! + + My heart with sin as crimson dyed, + Would ever so remain; + But if that blood by faith's applied, + 'Twill cleanse from every stain! + + With some their fill of pleasure here, + Is all the good they crave:-- + Give me a humble, holy fear, + A hope beyond the grave! + + At wisdom's shrine I'll light my torch, + And in her pleasant ways, + Under the Nazarene's reproach, + I'll live out all my days! + + Thus whether sanction'd or despis'd, + Such is my fancy's Rule; + In keeping which I shall be wise, + Although accounted fool! + + Let the free thinker take the hint, + And with my creed agree; + That all are not compell'd to think, + Nor speak the same as he! + + + + +ON FINDING SOME DEISTICAL BOOKS IN THE HOUSE OF ONE WHO ONCE FEARED GOD! + + "_How is the gold become dim!_" (Lamen. iv. 1.) + + + False publications throw their gloomy rays, + Where once the Sun of Righteousness did shine; + With pain we recollect the former days, + While scoffing infidels their voices join! + + Insulting Heav'n, they oft with brazen brow, + Deny our Saviour is the Son of God! + But soon to Him their every knee shall bow, + And they shall groan beneath His iron rod! + + What madness to defy His power above, + To slight that blood which has their souls redeem'd; + To him who does his God sincerely love, + How painful 'tis to hear His name blasphem'd! + + O let us flee these men of wicked minds, + Whose glory reaches not beyond the grave; + Who to accomplish their absurd designs, + Dethrone our King, and style the conquest brave! + + Yet still He reigns, and shall for ever hold, + In massy chains the gloomy powers of Hell; + They soon His second coming shall behold, + And howling, see the place from whence they fell! + + Ah! surely Satan's thousand years are up, + And he once more is suffer'd loose to go! + His object is to stagger Israel's hope, + And drag them captive to his den below! + + Come down, O Lord! and bid thy thunders roll! + Send forth thy lightnings, and thy foes consume! + O let them know that thou wilt them controul, + In each, and all the shapes which they assume! + + Gird on thy sword, thou mighty matchless King! + Reclaim these poor deluded sons of men! + O save them from the cruel serpent's sting; + And drive him back to his infernal den! + + If Israel's hope is not quite lost in death, + May these dry bones the Word of God receive! + Come from the four winds, O reviving breath, + And breathe upon these slain, that they may live! + + + + +ON VISITING FRYUP, DURING A GREAT REVIVAL. + + + O Fryup! far distant thy fame now extends, + Kind Heav'n doth thy breaches repair; + Thou land of religion, and bibles, and friends, + I rejoice to breathe thy pure air! + + Thou land of devotion, and health to the soul, + With pleasure I walk o'er thy plains; + Where Christ to the sick hath oft spoken, "Be whole!" + Where religion, where righteousness reigns! + + With earnest desire I've long wish'd to see, + The beauties which now I behold; + This visit has proved more refreshing to me, + Than thousands of silver, or gold! + + The day spring of glory hath visited thee, + For joy thy inhabitant sings; + The bright Sun of Righteousness riseth on thee, + And healing's receiv'd from his wings! + + His influence too, I have felt in my soul, + With gratitude now I confess; + May all his opposers yield to his control, + And sinners be saved by his grace! + + As lights in a land long benighted and dark, + May thy sons and thy daughters arise; + While faith to a flame fans the Heav'nly spark, + And they earnestly press to the skies! + + May the husband incessantly plead for the wife, + The wife for her husband contend; + That the favour of God which is better than life, + May on both through the Spirit descend! + + May the lover's petition be heard for the fair, + And the maiden prevail for the youth; + Till all those who for righteousness never did care, + Feel the force of Religion and Truth! + + May thy ministers fill'd with the Spirit of God, + As giants prevail o'er their foes; + Their word prove more sharp than a two edged sword, + In defence of their King and his laws! + + May thy sinners be sav'd on every hand, + Believers be steadfast and true;-- + With sorrow, once more, I now quit thy fair land, + Old Fryup! and bid thee adieu! + + + + +THE THREE VOICES! + + +_1st._ _The Voice of Conscience says_, + Man! mind thyself, and all thyself; + Thy inner self, thy outer self, + Thy present self, thy future self, + The best of self, and worst of self; + Or it may chance that thou, thyself, + For ever may'st upbraid thyself, + For making such a fool of self, + As not in time to know thyself! + +_2nd._ _The Voice of the Flesh says_, + O Man! do thou enjoy thyself, + For why should'st thou annoy thyself, + Or strangely thus employ thyself, + In seeking thus to know thyself, + When other men are like thyself! + Beware lest thou destroy thyself! + Be not a burden to thyself, + While thou hast life within thyself! + +_3rd._ _The Voice of the Devil says_, + Fine man, think highly of thyself! + Put no restraint upon thyself; + Nor with religion plague thyself! + For thou art not so bad as self + Would sometimes make thee think thyself! + To my advice submit thyself, + And in thy lusts indulge thyself;-- + Then I at last shall get thyself! + + + + +A DIALOGUE + + Between Rosedale Bob and Hartoft John, on a Speech delivered by + the Venerable The Archdeacon P----, L.L.D., at a Bible Meeting + held in the new Church, Rosedale. + + +_John._--What cheer, awd stock? say what's ther beean te doo, + 'At macks ye leeak seea dark aboot yer broo? + Yoo leeak as thof yer parliament petition + Had met wi' sum romantic opposition! + Or mebby yoo hev met wi' sum abuse, + Or fra' sum quarter heeard sum heavy news! + Perhaps the trial may cum clooaser still, + Yer wife or childer may be takken ill. + +_Bob._--Alas! the news Ah hev te tell's seea bad, + The fields an' forests seeam i' moorning clad; + By men unauthorized an' unordeean'd, + Oor new erected Temple is profeean'd! + The cushions an' the tassels all are soil'd, + The bell's enchanted, an' oor woorship's spoil'd, + They've held in it, what's caus'd this desecration, + A meetin' for t' Baable's circulation. + +_John._--If that be all the thing's as leeght as chaff, + The fields an' fleeads may clap ther hands an' laff; + Sin' better sense is teeachin' greeat an' small, + Te send this glorious leeght fra' pole te pole! + 'Tis yan o' Jesus Christ's last greeat commands, + Te send this leeght te dark an' heathen lands. + Lets whooap the profit 'll ootweigh the loss;-- + If t'parson beean't t'Church 'll be neea worse! + +_Bob._--Whah, Ah's neea scholar, nowther will pertend + Te say, hoo far this mischief may extend. + Oor greeat Divine, afoore he left the pleeace, + He tell'd us positive it wur the keease: + Hiz argument did raise te that amoont, + The Church wur ruin'd on this seeame accoont; + When sike like wark the church's pillars shake, + Hiz maister's honner foorc'd him for te speak. + +_John._--Whether Divine, M.A., or L.L.D., + 'Tis lahtle matter whea or what he be: + The thing's reveal'd tiv us as clear as him, + What God approves man owght nut te condemn. + Whate'er may be his sacerdotal geeans, + The public, they may thenk him for hiz peeans; + 'At he seea fine a sample sud dispense + Ov college iddicated influence. + +_Bob._--Cud it be heeard an' understeead on reeght, + Daft Hannah's speech be quite as full o'leeght. + She thinks t'awd man sud nut ha' beean seea vext, + Bud tonn'd hiz leeaf an' teean anuther text. + The bad effects hez beean, she hez neea doot, + Wi' brush or beezom swept an' carried oot; + They teeak true pains te mack all clean an' clivver, + An' t' Church is noo as gud an' weel as ivver. + +_John._--Bud leeak thoo heer, this is the thing they dreead, + If yance t'Baable an' the truth be spreead, + The veil 'll fall fra' off the people's eyes, + An' t' commons then will as the lords be wise; + They then 'll graw so base i' disposition, + Te heigher powers they will disdain submission; + An' will te men ov honourable name, + Refuse that homage which ther titles claim! + +_Bob._--Then chapels will i' all directions rise, + Wi' saucy steeples moonting te the skies; + An' preeachers run, or ride on hoss or gig, + As rank as sheep that travel Blaca rig, + If sike proceedings further be alloo'd, + Awd England's sun 'll set behinnd a clood:-- + Nur need we wonder they alood procleeam, + Thooase men sal speeak neea longer i' this neeame. + +_John._--'At sike a meetin' sud be held i' t' church, + By men 'at scarce wur fit te stand i' t' porch, + Wur sike a stain upon its consecration, + As roused his reverence's indignation. + What cud thooase expect as ther reward, + Bud fra' sike bold attempts te be debarr'd; + Nur ivver mare mun they cum theer again, + Whahl he hiz sacred office does sustain! + If sike like doctrines spreead an' sud prevail, + Then Bishop's ordination treead 'll fail; + Then grace 'll mare than larning be admired, + An' priests stand i' the market place unhired: + Men will fra' ivvery secret corner creep, + Or oot o' coalpits into pulpits leap; + Whahl wi' ther gestures an' insinuations, + They'll rob the Churches o' ther congregations. + +_Bob._--Then fooaks 'll ton, like bees 'at's left the hive, + Seea stupid as te nowther leead nur drive, + Nur draw by gifts, nur binnd doon by oppression, + Nur scar by Apostolical Succession: + In vain a man may then hiz feeace disguise, + An' landlords ower ther tenants tyrannize. + Neea patchwark then 'll answer as afoore, + Nur gowns, nur blankets buy or sell the poor. + That Parson then by chance may loss hiz pleeace, + Whea hunts, or gallops i' the Steeple Chase; + Whea i' the ring appears a jovial fellow, + Sits by his wine or grog till he is mellow; + Then wi' hiz dogs pursues the grouse or game + Mare than the cottage ov the poor or lame; + Or if hiz gun sud chance te miss the mark + Te rap an' sweear, an' lie all t'bleeam o' t' clerk. + +_John._--Nur wonder thoo that venerable man, + Sud be seea feearful ov hiz treead an' clan; + If better leeght be spreead by land an' sea, + Oor heeame boond slaves 'll seek for liberty, + They'll finnd they're neean seea fit te show the way, + As thooase 'at walks theerin fra' day te day. + Bud God himsel has teeak the thing i' hand, + An' Baable Meetings yet sal bless oor land; + Oor God 'll raise up men ov noble soul, + An' He the sleepy churches will controul: + Will send hiz sarvants whea hiz judgements knaw, + Te thunner oot the terrors ov His law; + Whahl Jesus will hiz meeghty airm mack bare, + An' tack the flocks himsel into hiz care. + +_Bob._--Sike laws amang oor heeigh up chaps exist, + As labouring men finnd hard for te resist. + O't' Sabbath days they rob beeath God an' man, + That scribe may preeav this statement fause as can. + All hands mun haste seean as they hear the bell, + To t'steeple hoose let t'priest be what he will; + An' thooase 'at izzen't satisfied wi' t'kirk, + Mun owther quit ther farm or loss ther woark. + +_John._--Thooase laws mitch differ fra' the laws ov heaven, + Fra' God te man for holy purpose given; + Peace te promote an' put an end te strife, + Te regulate hiz hoosehod an' hiz life. + In holy days afoore the churches fell, + Neea music soonded like the sabbath bell; + The ministers wur thoughtful, holy men, + Nur threeats wur needed, nur compulsion then. + +_Bob._--Yan wad be fain sike days again te see, + An' hear fooaks sing wi' love an' melody, + As yan hez reead i' bukes ov holy men, + 'At nowther cared for fire nur lion's den: + Bud dreeaded sin wi' all its scorpion stings, + Mare than the wrath ov heathen priests an' kings. + All whea te God in meek submission boo, + Thof t'way be dark, He'll awlus bring 'em throo. + +_John._--Jist wait a whahl, till taame reverse the scene, + An' Anti-Christ hez hed hiz pompous reign; + When persecution wi' her torch an' foark, + Sets carnal men an' ministers te woark, + Te help the Beast te mack hiz proselytes, + Te purge hiz fleer, an' bon the hypocrites:-- + Then thooase whea live, an' hev the truth maintained, + I' cleearer leeght 'll hev the thing explained. + + + + +A LOVE LETTER! + + (_To Miss ----_) + + + Forgive a stranger who would make so free, + As to declare a suitor's love for thee; + And by the strength of his affection, move + Thy heart to render back responsive love! + + The language these few humble lines impart, + Though it seem rude, is from an honest heart; + From one whose only aim and object is, + Thy Lover's glory, and thy future bliss. + + Not for myself would I now intercede, + For I, alas, no excellence can plead; + My handsomest attire is homely spun, + And many years my glass of life hath run! + + I plead the cause of Him, at whose command, + Thy soul shall one day in his presence stand; + And thou for ever may'st lament the change, + If once His love be turn'd into revenge! + + Of all thy list of lovers finely drest, + He told me secretly He was the first; + That even in thy youthful frolics wild, + His love was on thee, from a very child! + + That often he has stood without thy door, + While thou did'st other swains prefer before: + That oft the tear hath dim'd his eye so bright, + His locks all dripping with the dews of night! + + He needs not thus admit of rivals, when + He is the fairest of the sons of men! + He wooes the world, and those who hear his voice, + Seldom, if ever, rue their happy choice. + + He says for thee He has in battle bled, + And carried weighty sorrows in thy stead; + To save thy soul from infinite distress, + He bruis'd the monster in the wilderness! + + Nay, language fails, to say by land or sea, + What perils He hath undergone for thee; + Yea, many a bitter cup, and piercing smart, + His soul hath felt to gain thy worthless heart! + + Yes! He who thus demands thy stedfast love, + Is highly honour'd in the courts above; + He speaks, and sun, and moon, and stars, stand still, + And stormy winds and waves obey his will! + + His tender care hath been about thy bed, + When midnight thunders rolled above thy head! + When trembling thou beheld'st the lightning's glare + Light up thy room, and cause thee sudden fear! + + To all who need Him he is sure to prove + The best Physician too, when sick of love; + And yet all those who fall beneath his ire, + His anger doth consume and burn like fire! + + How long wilt thou withhold from Him his right, + Or from thyself such permanent delight, + As He hath promis'd in His faithful word, + Such as the hills of Paradise afford? + + When will thine eyes with happy tears o'erflow? + And thy fair breast with holy ardour glow? + When will thy lips thy dearest friend surprise, + By speaking out the language of the skies? + + Who thus surrender Him their heart and mind, + Through life's vicissitudes are sure to find + "Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end," + A faithful Lover, and a constant Friend! + + Where will those flee, or what may they expect, + Who his repeated overtures reject, + Who put in other gods their daily trust, + When He shall dash their refuge into dust? + + I long to see that lovely face of thine, + Beam forth with holy confidence divine; + And, fully freed from sin's enthralling chain, + No longer seek for happiness in vain! + + If then thy love be wandering elsewhere, + Thy choice decide, while He doth with thee bear; + Lest thou lament thy loss with anguish keen, + When Death hath fix'd a mighty gulf between! + + + + +TRUTH TRIUMPHANT! + + + See yon flag of crimson dye, + Wave along the vaulted sky! + See yon flag, &c. + To its hem fair Truth is bound, + Blood of martyrs sprinkled round; + That earth's multitudes may see, + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Wicked men in vain oppose, + Babes shall sing of Sharon's Rose! + Wicked men, &c. + Borne on winds from pole to pole, + Like the prophet's flying roll; + Ethiopia soon shall see + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Some of earth's dark corners shine, + With this heav'nly light divine! + Some of earth's, &c. + Africa's dark sons obey, + Pagan temples own her sway;-- + Own with us, 'tis God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Turks! who will no mercy shew, + Mercy is proclaim'd for you! + Turks! who will, &c. + Men are ceasing to bow down, + To their gods of wood and stone; + And all nations soon shall see, + Truth will have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Where Truth reigns the work goes on, + Christ and Truth are both but one! + Where Truth, &c. + Saints shall find the promise true, + Christ will soon "make all things new;" + And rejoice at God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Pow'rs of darkness! do your best, + Put your prowess to the test! + Pow'rs of darkness! &c. + Persecution fierce employ, + Jesu's kingdom to destroy, + 'Tis in vain! 'tis God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Jews! the Crucified adore, + Objects of his wrath no more! + Jews! the Crucified, &c. + Own the Galilean King, + With your gentile brethren sing; + Now obey, 'tis God's decree, + Truth shall have the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Hasten, Lord, the glorious day, + Let all true believers say! + Hasten, Lord, &c. + When these frozen hearts shall flow, + Each with love and wonder glow; + All with one accord agree, + Truth hath gain'd the Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + Soon th' Archangel's trump shall sound, + Wake the dead from sleep profound! + Soon the, &c. + Earth shall melt, the stars shall fall, + Men on rocks and mountains call; + Christ will then his saints set free:-- + What a glorious Victory! + Victory! Victory! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON A BACKSLIDER. + + + How art thou fallen, thou son of the light! + How happy the scenes from which thou art driven! + Behold! if thy soul can dwell on the sight, + Where thou didst once walk and hold converse with heaven! + + Then down turn thine eye to yon dreary place, + To which with swift steps thy spirit is bound; + See the hideous forms which thy spirit shall chase, + Ere long in that fire which thee will surround! + + In anguish there thy frighted eyes shall roll, + While demons triumph at thy overthrow; + With flaming firebrands lash thy naked soul, + With burning arrows pierce thee through and through! + + Thy dying soul still fed with living pain, + Shall curse the day on which she first drew breath; + Her awful burden she must still sustain, + And weep, and wail, and long in vain for death! + + Midst hell's deep gloom her portion she must drink, + Of double vengeance from Jehovah's ire, + And in the burning lake for ever sink,-- + That dreadful region of tormenting fire! + + Alas! the dreadful stupor still remains, + Nor hell can fright, nor heav'nly joys allure; + In vain thy self-convicted soul complains, + Of constant torment, and of thoughts impure! + + In vain the heav'nly harpers tune the lyre, + Rejoicing saints perform the three-fold part; + In vain believers flash devotion's fire, + Or drag the holy harrows o'er thy heart! + + That heart enclos'd as in a case of steel, + Laments its loss, and seeks for rest in vain! + Sighs for that impulse which she once did feel,-- + Oh! shall she never taste those joys again. + + I know the Lord is mighty to redeem, + Of boundless mercy, and unmeasur'd grace, + But sin hath fix'd a mighty gulf between,-- + Beyond that gulf a Saviour shows his face. + + Sometimes thou may'st the keen conviction spurn, + Through liquor's magic, or associates gay, + But this thy strongest refuge will o'erturn, + To think of Death, and the great judgement day. + + + + +VILLAGE PREACHING. + + "_Speak unto us smooth things._" (Isaiah xxx. 10.) + + + Far over Cleveland's lofty hills, + Water'd by rivulets and rills, + A lovely village doth appear, + And o'er the trees its chimneys rear + + A church there is without a steeple, + And several unconverted people; + Though not much pious fruit appear, + The people still desire to hear. + + To chapel oft they go and back, + In their old summer beaten track, + Where they the Holy Spirit grieve, + And pray for what they don't believe. + + Those preachers they like best to hear, + Whose doctrine is not too severe; + Who make no push extraordinary, + But tell their tale and let them be. + + It happen'd on a certain day, + A stranger chanced to stroll that way;-- + I'll try to sketch him if I can, + Some call him an eccentric man. + + One whom God's Spirit had enlighten'd, + Whom his own sins had soundly frightened; + Who when by strong conviction pained, + Did pardon seek, which he obtained. + + He knew he then accepted stood, + By faith in the atoning blood; + But saw the people's sad condition, + And offer'd them his admonition. + + A door was open in that place, + Where long had been the means of grace; + The means by many long neglected, + For fear they there should be detected. + + A worthy woman there did live, + Who her advice did gratis give; + Who cared for both the flock and fold, + Like Deborah in days of old. + + Like her she long had wish'd to see, + A glorious gospel victory; + And gave a friendly invitation, + To hear an extra exhortation. + + The forms were set, and rostrum fix'd, + The preacher went and took his text:-- + Sinners! your bleeding Saviour see, + He cries, "Ye will not come to me!" + + He tried to tell what those shall win, + Who come to Christ and leave their sin; + How those shall fare in the great day, + Who all their life time stay away. + + Having as he thought, clear'd his way, + They sang, and then began to pray; + He left his elevated station, + And went among his congregation, + + Of the great things he'd dwelt upon, + He ask'd them questions, one by one, + And if advice or help was needing, + For penitents who then were pleading. + + They still went on to sing and pray, + The good, old-fashioned gospel way; + And closer press'd the invitation, + Until 'twas time for separation. + + But such unusual proceeding, + They say completely spoil'd the meeting;-- + That preacher's conduct is unstable, + Who cannot keep behind the table! + + Preachers ought not to come so nigh, + Into the soul's affairs to pry; + For whether they be saved or no, + Is more than they've a right to know. + + Such bold presuming impudence, + To some might prove a great offence;-- + Going and asking one by one, + How they for Heaven are getting on! + + They say they'll come to preaching still, + If she one promise will fulfil; + That is as long as she is able, + Will keep the man behind the table. + + Those hearers now are far too thin, + Who like a lusty, loud "Amen!" + And folks have now a taste so fine, + A semiquaver breaks the line! + + Ye men of God, the truth enforce, + You cannot press the thing too close, + If you would do the people good, + Or clear your conscience of their blood. + + When your sermon is completed, + Then your aid is further needed; + To lift up still your warning voice, + Nor leave the people to their choice. + + Though some, alas, are so precise, + And God's rich blessings do despise, + Others may need your friendly care, + And will your counsel gladly hear. + + If your advice when managed well, + Perchance might save some soul from Hell; + Oh think of this,--and if you're able, + You may stand still behind the table. + + If I should go that way once more, + And find the people as before; + They must have either chain or cable, + If they keep _me_ behind the table. + + + + +THE LODGER IN LIVERPOOL; + +OR, + +THE MASON IN WINTER NIPT BY THE FROST. + + While a card party were enjoying themselves in an adjoining + room. + + + While sad I sit, oft musing over + Happy days for ever fled; + A lonely lodger in a corner, + Like some hermit in his shed. + + All around seems blithe and merry; + _My_ light's dim, and harp's unstrung, + While memory turns to yonder valley, + On whose flowery banks I've sung. + + Dirty, ragged, and down-hearted, + Far from country, friends, and home; + And as far from kindness parted, + Doom'd for work the world to roam. + + While the cheerful game hath flourish'd, + Gaily the glad table round; + From my eye the tear unnoticed, + Oft hath fallen to the ground. + + Now they sing of female beauty, + Or the treachery of men, + Or of robbers seeking booty, + Like the tiger from his den. + + Lovely forms and handsome faces, + Serve to gild the gay deceit; + Amorous ditties serve for graces, + Both before and after meat. + + 'Tis theirs to share life's fleeting joys, + Mine to drag the galling chain; + But still a hope my spirit buoys, + That the sun will shine again. + + If their pleasures were not carnal, + I might long with them to share; + Did they lead to joys eternal, + When they laugh, I might despair. + + But when time makes all surrender, + Nor permits the least excuse, + Happy they, whom time's avenger, + Charges not with its abuse. + + + + +EDOM. + + (Isaiah lxiii. 1.) + + + O ye muses, assist me to sing, + Of the things which by faith I have seen; + Of the love of my Saviour and King, + While wandering on earth I have been. + + That Him I so little have loved, + For this I have reason to mourn; + And for talents and time mis-improved, + In the days of my youth that are gone. + + For neglect of the records divine, + Which so often did sound in mine ear; + My affections they did not incline, + I neglected like others to hear. + + Like sheep did we all go astray, + And left the fair pastures serene; + Did wander from him far away, + Where terror and darkness were seen. + + There in ambush our enemies lay, + As we roam'd o'er those desolate plains; + We became their unfortunate prey, + And were bound in affliction and chains. + + We long in that sad plight did lie, + Nor had courage nor strength to look up; + Yet we oft cast a languishing eye, + To the hills from whence cometh our hope. + + And there came one from Edom afar, + To whom the sad signal we gave; + He looked like a champion of war, + He was bloody--yet mighty to save! + + And as swift to our rescue He came, + We related to Him all our grief, + He said that heaven heard us complain, + And 'twas He that had brought us relief. + + "Who art thou?" then we fearfully said, + "Why so red in thy glorious array? + Like one who is sorely dismayed, + Through the burden and heat of the day?" + + "I have come from the Father of lights, + That you in His glory may shine; + Whose throne is on high o'er all heights, + And the work of redemption is mine. + + In His courts the great question was ask'd, + Who would rescue lost man from the grave? + I, my love and omnipotence task'd, + That the ruined and lost I might save! + + Then stern Justice demanded his due, + And I looked for help but found none; + So my life I have laid down for you, + And have trodden the wine press alone. + + "Look on me," He said with a smile, + "'Twas for you I was bruised as ye see; + There was none for this wonderful toil, + And the burden fell all upon me!" + + Then He lifted us up from the ground, + And He broke our tyrannical chain; + While His blood stream'd afresh from each wound, + And whoever it touch'd was made clean! + + "The ransom, though mighty, is paid, + Therefore open your hearts to receive; + You need be no longer afraid + If you truly repent and believe!" + + While sweet comfort thus flow'd from his tongue, + His visage though marr'd grew more fair; + With swift wings and angelical song, + He ascended on high in the air! + + A bright cloud took Him out of our sight, + And our eyes could behold him no more; + He arose to the regions of light, + And left us to believe and adore! + + + + +REFLECTIONS ON ABSENT FRIENDS, GONE TO AMERICA. + + + The sun had gone down o'er yon lofty mountain, + The last golden streamer had left the tall tree; + The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy, + Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea. + + The rose tree was nodding the lasses had nourish'd, + Which oft had supplied them with Sunday's perfume; + The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish'd, + And wept o'er the beautiful daisy in bloom! + + In the track by the river the green grass is springing, + On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray; + No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing, + To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play. + + The dog in the night time now howls discontented, + Of its master and mistress but lately bereft; + I listen'd and look'd to the place they frequented, + Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left. + + How strong the emotions of friendship were glowing, + When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved; + Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing, + As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved. + + From the shores of old England we anxiously view'd them, + A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight; + Far o'er the blue surface affection pursued them, + Till the ship was conceal'd by the curtain of night. + + They have left us,--their absence wakes mournful reflection, + As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away; + We can only consign them to heavenly protection, + To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey. + + He who roves through the wood may quickly discover, + Their affection in tokens which there he will see; + Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover, + May sigh o'er their names in the bark of the tree. + + + + +THE LAST JOB OF AN OLD TRAMP; + +OR, + +REFLECTIONS ON BURNING A MASON'S MALLET + +FOR A YULE CLOG, ON CHRISTMAS EVE. + + + O thou once highly valued piece of wood, + By him who best that value understood; + Whose purse so often thou didst help to fill,-- + Whom bed and board, + Thou didst afford, + Attended by thy train of sharpen'd steel! + + True to thy task throughout the changing year, + Thy fellowship was to thy master dear:-- + Whether at work, or o'er his shoulder slung, + Or near his side, + Thou wast his pride, + While with his friend he cheerful sat and sung! + + Without a murmur at stern winter's frown, + Or summer's heat, in country or in town, + The stone hath yielded to thy sturdy blow:-- + Thy day is gone, + Thy task is done, + And thou art own'd by thy last master now! + + While careless I thy destiny survey, + And see thee down to ashes waste away; + Thy crackling whisper seems to shew to me, + The frailty clear, + Of all things here, + To earth allied, and man's mortality! + + Since first on thee the tender bud appear'd, + Or on thy branch the birds the woodlands cheer'd, + What strange vicissitudes have roll'd between; + Since thou wast nurs'd, + With care at first, + Or in the forest flourish'd gay and green! + + There was a time when high thy top did wave, + In mystic triumph o'er the woodman's grave, + Whose stroke had ceas'd, worn out by course of years; + Where undismay'd + The breezes play'd, + Whose peaceful shade remembrance only bears! + + Ah! thou wilt never, never bud again, + Thy ashes lost in field, or flood, or lane; + No more the sun will on thy substance shine: + It would, at last, I fear, + Be well with many here, + If life's last spark might be compared with thine! + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + + Aboon--_above_ + Ageean--_against_ + Ah--_I_ + Ah'v--_I have_ + Airm--_arm_ + Alang--_along_ + 'At's--_that is_ + Awd--_old_ + Awn--_own_ + Awlus--_always_ + Ax--_ask_ + + Baable--_bible_ + Bairn--_child_ + Beck--_a brook_ + Beean--_been_ + Beeans--_bones_ + Beean't--_be not_ + Beeath--_both_ + Beelds--_builds_ + Berreed--_buried_ + Besaads--_besides_ + Blaw--_blow_ + Bleead--_blood_ + Boo--_bow_ + Booast--_boast_ + Boorn--_born_ + Boon--_going_ + Bon--_burn_ + Bonny--_handsome_ + Bowght--_bought_ + Breeght--_bright_ + Brigg--_bridge_ + Broo--_brow_ + Bukes--_books_ + + Cawd--_cold_ + Caps--_puzzles_ + Cheeans--_chains_ + Childer--_children_ + Chimler--_chimney_ + Clim--_climb_ + Clivver--_clever_ + Com--_came_ + Congker'd--_conquered_ + Convarsion--_conversion_ + Cooat--_coat_ + Coorn--_corn_ + Coorse--_course_ + Cubburt--_cupboard_ + Cum--_come_ + + Daft--_weak in mind_ + Dee--_die_ + Deea--_do_ + Deeal--_dale_ + Deean--_done_ + Deed--_died_ + Deein--_dying_ + Desaun'd--_designed_ + Doon--_down_ + Doot--_doubt_ + Draave--_drive_ + Duffil--_kind of coarse cloth_ + + Ee--_eye_ + Een--_eyes_ + Efter--_after_ + Ey--_aye_ + + Faanly--_finely_ + Fain--_glad_ + Fand--_found_ + Fause--_false_ + Feeat--_foot_ + Feead--_fed_ + Feight--_fight_ + Finnd--_find_ + Flay'd--_afraid_ + Fleead--_flood_ + Fleer--_floor_ + Floor--_flower_ + Foark--_fork_ + Fooas--_foes_ + Fooaks--_folks_ + Fooam--_foam_ + Foond--_found_ + Forgeean--_forgiven_ + Fower--_four_ + Fra'--_from_ + Freeat--_fret_ + Frev--_from_ + Froon'd--_frowned_ + Fund--_found_ + + Gaain--_going_ + Gamlin--_gambling_ + Gang--_to go_ + Gangin--_going_ + Gat--_got_ + Geean--_gone_ + Geean'd--_gained_ + Geen--_given_ + Gie--_give_ + Ginnes--_guineas_ + Gitten--_got_ + Gooan--_gone_ + Graw--_grow_ + Greeatin--_groaning_ + Greeave--_grave_ + + Hawf--_half_ + Heeame--_home_ + Heearth--_earth_ + Heeigh--_high_ + Hennut--_have not_ + Hev--_have_ + Hez--_has_ + Hezzen't--_has not_ + Hods--_holds_ + Hoo--_how_ + Hoor--_hour_ + Hooivver--_however_ + Hoose--_house_ + Hoosin--_household_ + Hoss--_horse_ + + Iddicated--_educated_ + I' noo--_soon_ + I' t'--_in the_ + Iv--_in_ + Ivvery--_every_ + + Keease--_case_ + Ken--_to see_ + Kesenmas--_christmas_ + Kest--_cast_ + Kirk--_church_ + Knaw--_know_ + Ky--_cows_ + + Lahtle--_little_ + Lee--_a lie_ + Leeak--_look_ + Leeatly--_lately_ + Leeght--_light_ + Lie--_to lay_ + Lig--_to lie_ + Lood--_loud_ + Loore--_learning_ + Loss--_lose_ + + Mack--_make_ + Mah--_my_ + Mahle--_mile_ + Mare--_more_ + Maund--_mind_ + Mebby--_may be_ + Meead--_made_ + Meeasons--_masons_ + Meeght--_might_ + Meer--_a mare_ + Misteean--_mistaken_ + Mitch--_much_ + Mooan't--_must not_ + Mooat--_mote_ + Moont--_mount_ + Moorning--_mourning_ + Mud--_might_ + Mun--_must_ + + Natches--_notches_ + Neea--_no_ + Neean--_none_ + Neegh--_nigh_ + Neeght--_night_ + Neen--_nine_ + Nivver--_never_ + Nobbut--_only_ + Nooas--_noes_ + Nooatice--_notice_ + Nooation--_idea_ + Nowght--_nothing_ + Nowther--_neither_ + Nowthern--_northern_ + Nut--_not_ + + Ommost--_almost_ + Onny--_any_ + Oor--_our_ + O' t'--_of the_ + Ower--_over_ + Owerton--_overturn_ + Owght--_ought, or aught_ + Owther--_either_ + + Pearted--_parted_ + Pertend--_pretend_ + Pleeace--_place_ + Pleugh--_plough_ + Plissures--_pleasures_ + Poosts--_posts_ + Praaze--_praise, or prize_ + Preear--_prayer_ + Preeav--_prove_ + Prisance--_presence_ + Prooan--_prone_ + Prooase--_prose_ + Prood--_proud_ + + Raise--_rise_ + Rath--_wrath_ + Reeace--_race_ + Reeght--_right_ + Reen--_reign_ + Rint--_rent_ + Rowlin--_rolling_ + Rum--_room_ + + Saain'd--_signed_ + Sal--_shall_ + Sare--_sore_ + Sarten--_certain_ + Sawn--_sown_ + Screeve--_mark_ + Seea--_so_ + Seeaf--_safe_ + Seean--_soon_ + Seeaven--_seven_ + Seeght--_sight_ + Seer--_sure_ + Shanks--_legs_ + Shaw--_show_ + Sheeape--_shape_ + Shoat--_short_ + Shoo--_show_ + Shoothers--_shoulders_ + Sike--_such_ + Sin'--_since_ + Skoors--_scores_ + Snaw--_snow_ + Soorce--_source_ + Sowl--_soul_ + Spak--_spoke_ + Steead--_stood_ + Steeaks--_stakes_ + Steean--_stone_ + Strang--_strong_ + Strave--_strive_ + Stond--_stand_ + Stour--_drift_ + Sud--_should_ + Sum--_some_ + Sute--_suit_ + Swap--_exchange_ + + Taame--_time_ + Tack--_take_ + Teea an' fraw--_to and fro_ + Teeables--_tables_ + Teeak--_took_ + Teeal--_tale_ + Teean--_taken_ + Tegither--_together_ + Te t'--_to the_ + Thah--_thy_ + Thee--_thy_ + Theer--_there_ + Thenk--_thank_ + Ther--_their_ + Thof--_though_ + Thowght--_thought_ + Thraving--_thriving_ + Thruff--_through_ + Thunner--_thunder_ + Tiv--_to_ + Ton--_turn_ + Toons--_towns_ + Towght--_taught_ + Treead--_trade_ + Trimmel'd--_trembled_ + Trist--_trust_ + 'Twad--_it would_ + Twea--_two_ + + Ungker'd--_strange_ + + Voo--_vow_ + + Wad--_would_ + Waddn't--_would not_ + Wark--_work_ + Warst--_worst_ + Wean't--_will not_ + Weeap--_weep_ + Weel--_well_ + Wesh--_wash_ + Wha--_who_ + Whahl--_while_ + Wheas--_who is, or whose_ + Whooap--_hope_ + Whoor--_where_ + Winder--_window_ + Winnut--_will not_ + Wiv--_with_ + Woak--_walk_ + Woark--_work_ + Wods--_words_ + Wor--_were_ + Woth--_worth_ + Wrang--_wrong_ + Wur--_our_ + Wur--_was_ + + Yack--_oak_ + Yah--_one_ + Yan--_one_ + Yance--_once_ + Yer--_your_ + + + + +INDEX. + + + Page. + + Preface, 5 + + Awd Isaac, Part First, 9 + + ---- Part Second, 25 + + ---- His dying advice, 30 + + Dialogue on a Steeple Chase, 35 + + The Lucky Dream, 44 + + A strange effusion, 46 + + Lealholm Bridge, 48 + + Old Sam, or the effects of the Gospel, 51 + + Thoughts on Good Friday, 55 + + To a withered flower, 57 + + The country Love Feast, 59 + + Ode to Britain, 62 + + A voice from the dead, 63 + + To the Moor birds in a storm, 66 + + Lines on returning a borrowed Stick, 67 + + The thunder storm, 68 + + The Miser's away, 69 + + The Mistake, 71 + + The broken seal, 72 + + The Stone!, 75 + + To the rising Sun, 82 + + Lines in memory of the Rev. D. Duck, 84 + + An elegy on the death of a beloved child, 85 + + On the first text heard spiritually, 88 + + To a Squirrel in a cage, 90 + + To a bird singing in winter, 92 + + Petch's Elegy, 93 + + Reflections on Petch's tomb, 95 + + "Who hath believed our report?", 97 + + The Bees, 100 + + Caution from Limber Hill, 101 + + The village church in ruins, 103 + + Poetical reflections, 105 + + The two hours' task, 110 + + The country blunder, 113 + + A sinner saved by grace, 115 + + The portion of the Just, 117 + + The happy choice, 118 + + On the death of John Morley, 119 + + The servant's address to his master, 122 + + Sabbath morning musings, 125 + + Lines on leaving Fryup, 129 + + The Swallow, 131 + + A call to the careless, 132 + + To a horse, dying alone!, 134 + + Musings during affliction, 137 + + The Play, 144 + + The remote Christian, 146 + + Solitary reflections, 149 + + On some who had left us, 150 + + There is a God, 152 + + Confirmation, 153 + + The man of the world, 155 + + The rule of contrary, 157 + + On finding some Deistical books, in the + house of one who once feared God, 160 + + On visiting Fryup, 162 + + The Three Voices, 164 + + Dialogue between Rosedale Bob, and Hartoft John, 165 + + A love letter, 170 + + Truth triumphant, 173 + + Reflections on a Backslider, 176 + + Village preaching, 178 + + The lodger in Liverpool, 182 + + Edom, 184 + + Reflections on absent Friends, 187 + + Last Job of an old Tramp, 189 + + Glossary, 191 + + +_Whitby: Printed by Horne and Richardson._ + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + + Page 23: Unnecessary opening " as in original + Page 27: .! at end of verse as in original + Page 34: Closing " has no associated opening " in the original + Page 46: Opening " has no associated closing " in the original + Page 54: " added before We all must + Page 59: mispent as in the original + Page 70: expence as in the original + Page 148: bles'd as in the original + Page 174: Powr's corrected to Pow'rs (second instance) + Page 175: &c, corrected to &c. in the last verse + Page 186: Unnecessary opening " as in original + Page 190: flourish,d corrected to flourish'd + Page 195: sowl corrected to soul + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Awd Isaac, The Steeple Chase, and +other Poems, by John Castillo + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AWD ISAAC, AND OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 35287.txt or 35287.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/2/8/35287/ + +Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + +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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