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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/9093.txt b/9093.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae93cc9 --- /dev/null +++ b/9093.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2589 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs, by Robert Bloomfield + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs + +Author: Robert Bloomfield + +Posting Date: October 15, 2012 [EBook #9093] +Release Date: October, 2005 +First Posted: September 4, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RURAL TALES, BALLADS, AND SONGS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Charles Bidwell and Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + + + +RURAL TALES, BALLADS, AND SONGS: + + +By ROBERT BLOOMFIELD, + +Author of _The Farmers Boy_ + + +LONDON: +Printed for Vernor and Hood, Poultry; +and Longman and Rees, Paternoster-Row + +By T. Bensley, Bolt-court, Fleet-street. + +1802 + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The Poems here offered to the Public were chiefly written during the +interval between the concluding and the publishing of THE FARMER'S BOY, an +interval of nearly two years. The pieces of a later date are, _the Widow +to her Hour-Glass, the Fakenham Ghost, Walter and Jane_, &c. At the tune +of publishing the Farmer's Boy, circumstances occurred which rendered it +necessary to submit these Poems to the perusal of my Friends: under whose +approbation I now give them, with some confidence as to their moral merit, +to the judgment of the Public. And as they treat of village manners, and +rural scenes, it appears to me not ill-tim'd to avow, that I have hopes of +meeting in some degree the approbation of my Country. I was not prepar'd +for the decided, and I may surely say extraordinary attention which the +Public has shewn towards the Farmer's Boy: the consequence has been such +as my true friends will rejoice to hear; it has produc'd me many essential +blessings. And I feel peculiarly gratified in finding that a poor man in +England may assert the dignity of Virtue, and speak of the imperishable +beauties of Nature, and be heard, and heard, perhaps, with greater +attention for his being poor. + +Whoever thinks of me or my concerns, must necessarily indulge the pleasing +idea of gratitude, and join a thought of my first great friend Mr. LOFFT. +And on this head, I believe every reader, who has himself any feeling, +will judge rightly of mine: if otherwise, I would much rather he would lay +down this volume, and grasp hold of such fleeting pleasures as the world's +business may afford him. I speak not of that gentleman as a public +character, or as a scholar. Of the former I know but little, and of the +latter nothing. But I know from experience, and I glory in this fair +opportunity of saying it, that his private life is a lesson of morality; +his manners gentle, his heart sincere: and I regard it as one of the most +fortunate circumstances of my life, that my introduction to public notice +fell to so zealous and unwearied a friend.[Footnote: I dare not take to +myself a praise like this; and yet I was, perhaps, hardly at liberty to +disclaim what should be mine and the endeavour of every one to deserve. +This I can say, that I have reason to rejoice that Mr. _George Bloomfield_ +introduced the Farmer's Boy to me. C. L.] + +I have received many honourable testimonies of esteem from strangers; +letters without a name, but fill'd with the most cordial advice, and +almost a parental anxiety, for my safety under so great a share of public +applause. I beg to refer such friends to the great teacher Time: and hope +that he will hereafter give me my deserts, and no more. + +One piece in this collection will inform the reader of my most pleasing +visit to _Wakefield Lodge_: books, solitude, and objects entirely new, +brought pleasures which memory will always cherish. That noble and worthy +Family, and all my immediate and unknown Friends, will, I hope, believe +the sincerity of my thanks for all their numerous favours, and candidly +judge the Poems before them. + +R. BLOOMFIELD. +Sept. 29, 1801. + +P.S. Since affixing the above date, an event of much greater importance +than any to which I have been witness, has taken place, to the universal +joy (it is to be hoped) of every inhabitant of Europe. My portion of joy +shall be expressed while it is warm: and the reader will do sufficient +justice, if he only believes it to be sincere. + +October 10. + + + + +PEACE. + +Halt! ye Legions, sheathe your Steel: +Blood grows precious; shed no more: +Cease your toils; your wounds to heal +Lo! beams of Mercy reach the shore! +From Realms of everlasting light +The favour'd guest of Heaven is come: +Prostrate your Banners at the sight, +And bear the glorious tidings home. + +The plunging corpse with half-clos'd eyes, +No more shall stain th' unconscious brine; +Yon pendant gay, that streaming flies, +Around its idle Staff shall twine. +Behold! along th' etherial sky +Her beams o'er conquering Navies spread; +Peace! Peace! the leaping Sailors cry, +With shouts that might arouse the dead. + +Then forth Britannia's thunder pours; +A vast reiterated sound! +From Line to Line the Cannon roars, +And spreads the blazing joy around. +Return, ye brave! your Country calls; +Return; return, your task is done: +While here the tear of transport falls, +To grace your Laurels nobly won. + +Albion Cliffs--from age to age, +That bear the roaring storms of Heav'n, +Did ever fiercer Warfare rage? +Was ever Peace more timely given? +Wake! sounds of Joy: rouse, generous Isle; +Let every patriot bosom glow. +Beauty, resume thy wonted smile, +And, Poverty, thy cheerful brow. + +Boast, Britain, of thy glorious Guests; +Peace, Wealth, and Commerce, all thine own: +Still on contented Labour rests +The basis of a lasting Throne. +Shout, Poverty! 'tis Heaven that saves; +Protected Wealth, the chorus raise: +Ruler of War, of Winds, and Waves, +Accept a prostrate Nation's praise. + + + +ERRATA. + +Page 28, line 1, for _Mon_ read _Man_. + + 56, 13, for _thy_ read _my_. + + +CONTENTS. + +Richard and Kate: Ballad +Walter and Jane: a Tale +The Miller's Maid: a Tale +The Widow to her Hour-Glass +Market-Night: Ballad +The Fakenham Ghost: Ballad +The French Mariner: Ballad +Dolly: Ballad +A Visit to Whittlebury Forest +A Highland Drover: Song +A Word to Two Young Ladies +On hearing of the Translation of the Farmer's Boy +Nancy: Song +Rosy Hannah: Song +The Shepherd and his Dog Rover: Song +Hunting Song +Lucy: Song +Winter Song + + + + +[Illustration] + + RICHARD AND KATE: OR, FAIR-DAY. + + A Suffolk Ballad. + + +'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel, +Sweep up your orts, and get your Hat; +Old joys reviv'd once more I feel, +'Tis Fair-day;--ay, _and more than that._ + +_The Deliberation_. + +'Have you forgot, Kate, prithee say, +'How many Seasons here we've tarry'd? +'Tis _Forty_ years, this very day, +'Since you and I, old Girl, were _married_ + +'Look out;--the Sun shines warm and bright, +'The Stiles are low, the paths all dry; +'I know you cut your corns last night: +'Come; be as free from care as I. + +'For I'm resolv'd once more to see +'That place where we so often met; +'Though few have had more cares than we, +'We've none just now to make us fret.' + +Kate scorn'd to damp the generous flame +That warm'd her aged Partner's breast; +Yet, ere determination came, +She thus some trifling doubts express'd. + +_Difficulties--Consent_. + +'Night will come on; when seated snug, +'And you've perhaps begun some tale, +'Can you then leave your dear stone mug; +'Leave all the folks, and all the Ale?' + +'Ay, Kate, I wool;--because I know, +'Though time has been we both could run, +'Such days are gone and over now;-- +'I only mean to see the fun.' + +She straight slipp'd off the Wall and Band, [Terms used in spinning] +And laid aside her Lucks and Twitches: +And to the Hutch [a chest] she reach'd her hand, +And gave him out his Sunday Breeches. + +His Mattock he behind the door +And Hedging-gloves again replac'd; +And look'd across the yellow Moor, +And urg'd his tott'ring Spouse to haste. + +_The Walk to the Fair._ + +The day was up, the air serene, +The Firmament without a cloud; +The Bee humm'd o'er the level green +Where knots of trembling Cowslips bow'd. + +And RICHARD thus, with heart elate, +As past things rush'd across his mind, +Over his shoulder, talk'd to KATE, +Who snug tuckt up, walk'd slow behind. + +'When once a gigling Mawther you, +'And I a redfac'd chubby Boy, +'Sly tricks, you play'd me not a few; +'For mischief was your greatest joy. + +'Once, passing by this very Tree, +'A Gotch [pitcher] of Milk I'd been to fill, +'You shoulder'd me; then laugh'd to see +'Me and my Gotch spin down the Hill' + +_Discourse on past Days._ + +'Tis true,' she said; 'but here behold, +'And marvel at the course of Time; +'Though you and I are both grown old, +'This Tree is only in its prime!' + +'Well, Goody, don't stand preaching now; +'Folks don't preach Sermons at a FAIR: +'We've rear'd Ten _Boys_ and _Girls_ you know; +'And I'll be bound they'll all be there.' + +Now friendly nods and smiles had they, +From many a kind _Fair-going_ face: +And many a pinch KATE gave away; +While RICHARD kept his usual pace. + +At length arriv'd amidst the throng, +_Grand-children_ bawling hem'd them round; +And dragg'd them by the skirts along +Where gingerbread bestrew'd the ground. + +_The Arrival.--Country Sports._ + +And soon the aged couple spy'd +Their lusty _Sons_ and _Daughters_ dear: +When RICHARD thus exulting cried, +'Did'nt I tell you they'd be here?' + +The cordial greetings of the soul +Were visible in every face; +Affection, void of all controul, +Govern'd with a resistless grace. + +'Twas good to see the honest strife, +_Which_ should contribute most to please; +And hear the long-recounted life, +Of infant tricks, and happy days. + +But now, as at some nobler places, +Amongst the Leaders 'twas decreed +Time to begin the DICKY RACES; +More fam'd for laughter than for speed. + +_Recollections._ + +RICHARD look'd on with wond'rous glee, +And prais'd the Lad who ehanc'd to win; +'KATE, wan't I such a one as he? +'As like him, ay, as pin to pin? + +'Full _Fifty_ years are pass'd away +'Since I rode this same ground about: +'Lord! I was lively as the day! +'I won the High-lows out and out! + +'I'm surely growing young again: +'I feel myself so kedge and plump. +'From head to foot I've not one pain; +'Nay, hang me if I cou'd 'nt jump.' + +Thus spoke the ALE in RICHARD'S pate, +A very little made him mellow; +But still he lov'd his faithful KATE, +Who whisper'd thus, 'My good old fellow, + +_The Departure._ + +'Remember what you promis'd me: +'And see, the Sun is getting low; +'The Children want an hour ye see +'To talk a bit before we go.' + +Like youthful Lover most complying +He turn'd, and chuckt her by the chin: +Then all across the green grass hieing, +Right merry faces, all akin, + +Their farewell quart, beneath a +That droop'd its branches from above, +Awak'd the pure felicity +That waits upon PARENTAL LOVE. + +KATE view'd her blooming Daughters round, +And Sons, who shook her wither'd hand; +Her features spoke what joy she found; +But utterance had made a stand. + +_An old Man's Joy._ + +The Children toppled on the green, +And bowl'd their _fairings_ down the hill; +Richard with pride beheld the scene, +Nor could he for his life sit still. + +A Father's uncheck'd feelings gave +A tenderness to all he said; +'My Boys, how proud am I to have +'My name thus round the Country spread! + +'Through all my days I've labour'd hard, +'And could of pains and Crosses tell; +'But this is Labour's great reward, +'To meet ye thus, and see ye well. + +'My good old Partner, when at home, +'Sometimes with wishes mingles tears; +'Goody, says I, let what wool come, +'We've nothing for them but our pray'rs. + +_Old Man's Joy continued._ + +'May you be all as old as I, +'And see you? Sons to manhood grow; +'And, many a time before you die, +'Be just as pleas'd as I am now.' + +Then, (raising still his Mug and Voice,) +'An Old Man's weakness don't despise! +'I love you well, my Girls and Boys; +'GOD bless you all;'--so said his eyes---- + +For, as he spoke, a big round drop +Fell bounding on his ample sleeve; +A witness which he could not stop, +A witness which all hearts believe. + +Thou, FILIAL PIETY, wert there; +And round the ring, benignly bright, +Dwelt in the luscious half-shed tear, +And in the parting word--_Good Night_. + +_The Return home._ + +With thankful Hearts and strengthen'd Love, +The poor old PAIR, supremely blest, +Saw the Sun sink behind the grove, +And gain'd once more their lowly rest. + + + + [Illustration] + +WALTER AND JANE: or, THE POOR BLACKSMITH. + +_A Country Tale._ + +Bright was the summer sky, the Mornings gay, +And Jane was young and chearful as the Day. +Not yet to Love but Mirth she paid her vows; +And Echo mock'd her as she call'd her Cows. +Tufts of green Broom, that full in blossom vied, +And grac'd with spotted gold the upland side, +The level fogs o'erlook'd; too high to share; +So lovely JANE o'erlook'd the clouds of Care; + +_Jane._ + +No meadow-flow'r rose fresher to the view, +That met her morning footsteps in the dew; +Where, if a nodding stranger ey'd her charms, +The blush of innocence was up in arms, +Love's random glances struck the unguarded mind, +And Beauty's magic made him look behind. + Duly as morning blush'd or twilight came, +Secure of greeting smiles and Village fame, +She pass'd the Straw-roof'd Shed, in ranges where +Hung many a well-turn'd Shoe and glitt'ring _Share_; +Where WALTER, as the charmer tripp'd along, +Would stop his roaring Bellows and his Song.-- + Dawn of affection; Love's delicious sigh! +Caught from the lightnings of a speaking eye, +That leads the heart to rapture or to woe, +'Twas WALTER'S fate thy mad'ning power to know; +And scarce to know, ere in its infant twine, +As the Blast shakes the tendrils of the Vine, + +_The Separation._ + +The budding bliss that full of promise grew +The chilling blight of separation knew. +Scarce had he told his heart's unquiet case, +And JANE to shun him ceas'd to mend her pace, +And learnt to listen trembling as he spoke, +And fondly judge his words beyond a joke; +When, at the Goal that bounds our prospects here, +Jane's widow'd Mistress ended her career: +Blessings attended her divided store, +The Mansion sold, (Jane's peaceful home no more,) +A distant Village own'd her for its Queen, +Another service, and another scene; +But could another scene so pleasing prove, +Twelve weary miles from Walter and from Love? +The Maid grew thoughtful: yet to Fate resign'd, +Knew not the worth of what she left behind. + He, when at Eve releas'd from toil and heat, +Soon miss'd the smiles that taught his heart to beat, + +_The Lover's-Journey._ + +Each sabbath-day of late was wont to prove +Hope's liberal feast, the holiday of Love: +But now, upon his spirit's ebbing strength +Came each dull hour's intolerable length. +The next had scarcely dawn'd when Walter hied +O'er hill and dale, Affection for his guide: +O'er the brown Heath his pathless journey lay, +Where screaming Lapwings hail'd the op'ning day. +High rose the Sun, the anxious Lover sigh'd; +His slipp'ry soles bespoke the dew was dried: +Her last farewell hung fondly on his tongue +As o'er the tufted Furze elate he sprung; +Trifling impediments; his heart was light, +For Love and Beauty glow'd in fancy's sight; +And soon he gaz'd on Jane's enchanting face, +Renew'd his passion,--but, destroy'd his peace. +Truth, at whose shrine he bow'd, inflicted pain; +And Conscience whisper'd, '_Never come again_.' + +_Self-Denial._ + +For now, his tide of gladness to oppose, +A clay-cold damp of doubts and fears arose; +Clouds, which involve, midst Love and Reason's strife, +The poor man's prospect when he takes a wife. +Though gay his journeys in the Summer's prime, +Each seem'd the repetition of a crime; +He never left her but with many a sigh, +When tears stole down his face, she knew not why. +Severe his task those visits to forego, +And feed his heart with voluntary woe. +Yet this he did; the wan Moon circling found +His evenings cheerless, and his rest unsound; +And saw th' unquenched flame his bosom swell: +What were his doubts, thus let the Story tell + A month's sharp conflict only serv'd to prove +The pow'r, as well as truth, of Walter's love. +Absence more strongly on his mind portray'd +His own sweet, injur'd, unoffending Maid. + +_The renew'd Journey._ + +Once more he'd go; full resolute awhile, +But heard his native Bells on every stile; +The sound recall'd him with a pow'rful charm, +The Heath wide open'd, and the day was warm; +There, where a bed of tempting green he found, +Increasing anguish weigh'd him to the ground; +His well-grown limbs the scatter'd Daisies press'd, +While his clinch'd hand fell heavy on his breast. + 'Why do I go in cruel sport to say, +"I love thee, Jane; appoint the happy day?" +'Why seek her sweet ingenuous reply, +'Then grasp her hand and proffer--poverty? +'Why, if I love her and adore her name, +'Why act like time and sickness on her frame? +'Why should my scanty pittance nip her prime, +'And chace away the Rose before its time? +'I'm young, 'tis true; the world beholds me free; +'Labour ne'er show'd a frightful face to me; + +_Love of Prudence._ + +'Nature's first wants hard labour _should_ supply; +'But should it fail, 'twill be too late to fly. +'Some Summers hence, if nought our loves annoy, +'The image of my Jane may lisp her joy; +'Or, blooming boys with imitative swing +'May mock my arm, and make the Anvil ring; +'Then if in rags.--But, O my heart, forbear,-- +'I love the Girl, and why should I despair? +'And that I love her all the village knows; +'Oft from my pain the mirth of others flows; +'As when a neighbour's Steed with glancing eye +'Saw his par'd hoof supported on my thigh: +'Jane pass'd that instant; mischief came of course; +'I drove the nail awry and lam'd the Horse; +'The poor beast limp'd: I bore a Master's frown, +'A thousand times I wish'd the wound my own. +'When to these tangling thoughts I've been resign'd, +'Fury or languor has possess'd my mind, + +_Recollections_. + +'All eyes have stared, I've blown a blast so strong; +'Forgot to smite at all, or smote too long. +'If at the Ale-house door, with careless glee +'One drinks to Jane, and darts a look on me; +'I feel that blush which her dear name will bring, +'I feel:--but, guilty Love, 'tis not thy sting! +'Yet what are jeers? the bubbles of an hour; +'Jane knows what Love can do, and feels its pow'r; +'In her mild eye fair Truth her meaning tells; +'Tis not in looks like her's that falsehood dwells. +'As water shed upon a dusty way +'I've seen midst downward pebbles devious stray; +'If kindred drops an adverse channel keep, +'The crystal friends toward each other creep; +'Near, and still nearer, rolls each little tide, +'Th' expanding mirror swells on either side: +'They touch--'tis done--receding bound'ries fly, +'An instantaneous union strikes the eye: + +_The Interview._ + +'So 'tis with us: for Jane would be my bride; +'Shall coward fears then turn the bliss aside?' + While thus he spoke he heard a gentle sound, +That seem'd a jarring footstep on the ground: +Asham'd of grief, he bade his eyes unclose, +And shook with agitation as he rose; +All unprepared the sweet surprise to bear; +His heart beat high, for Jane herself was there.-- + Flusht was her cheek; she seem'd the full-blown flower, +For warmth gave loveliness a double power; +Round her fair brow the deep confusion ran, +A waving handkerchief became her fan, +Her lips, where dwelt sweet love and smiling ease, +Puff'd gently back the warm assailing breeze. +'I've travell'd all these weary miles with pain, +'To see my native village once again; +'And show my true regard for neighbour _Hind_; +'Not like you, Walter, _she_ was always kind.' + +_Resentment and Tenderness_. + +'Twas thus, each soft actuation laid aside, +She buoy'd her spirits up with maiden pride; +Disclaimed her love, e'en while she felt the sting; +'What, come for Walter's sake!' 'Twas no such thing. +But when astonishment his tongue releas'd, +Pride's usurpation in an instant ceas'd: +By force he caught her hand as passing by, +And gaz'd upon her half averted eye; +His heart's distraction, and his boding fears +She heard, and answer'd with a flood of tears; +Precious relief; sure friends that forward press +To tell the mind's unspeakable distress. +Ye Youths, whom crimson'd health and genuine fire +Bear joyous on the wings of young desire, +Ye, who still bow to Love's almighty sway, +What could true passion, what could Walter say? +Age, tell me true, nor shake your locks in vain, +Tread back your paths, and be in love again; + +_Visit to a Friend_. + +In your young days did such a favouring hour +Show you the littleness of wealth and pow'r? +Advent'rous climbers of the Mountain's brow; +While Love, their master, spreads his couch below-- +'My dearest Jane,' the untaught Walter cried, +As half repell'd he pleaded by her side; +'My dearest Jane, think of me as you may--' +Thus--still unutter'd what he strove to say, +They breath'd in sighs the anguish of their minds, +And took the path that led to neighbour _Hind's_. + +A secret joy the well-known roof inspir'd, +Small was its store, and little they desir'd; +Jane dried her tears; while Walter forward flew +To aid the Dame; who to the brink updrew +The pond'rous Bucket as they reach'd the well, +And scarcely with exhausted breath could tell +How welcome to her Cot the blooming Pair, +O'er whom she watch'd with a maternal care. + +_The Expostulation_. + +'What ails thee, Jane?' the wary Matron cried; +With heaving breast the modest Maid reply'd, +Now gently moving back her wooden Chair +To shun the current of the cooling air; +'Not much, good Dame; I'm weary by the way; +'Perhaps, anon, I've something else to say.' +Now, while the Seed-cake crumbled on her knee, +And Snowy Jasmine peeped in to see; +And the transparent Lilac at the door, +Full to the Sun its purple honors bore, +The clam'rous Hen her fearless brood display'd, +And march'd around; while thus the Matron said: +'Jane has been weeping, Walter;--prithee why? +'I've seen her laugh, and dance, but never cry. +'But I can guess; with _her_ you should have been, +'When late I saw you loit'ring on the green; +'I'm an old Woman, and the truth may tell: +I say then, Boy, you have not us'd her well.' + +_Pleadings of Experience for Love with extreme Prudence._ + +JANE felt for WALTER; felt his cruel pain, +While Pity's voice brought forth her tears again. +'Don't scold him, Neighbour, he has much to say, +'Indeed he came and met me by the way.' +The Dame resum'd--'Why then, my Children, why +'Do such young bosoms heave the piteous sigh? +'The ills of Life to you are yet unknown; +'Death's sev'ring shaft, and Poverty's cold frown: +'I've felt them both, by turns:--but as they pass'd, +'Strong was my trust, and here I am at last. +'When I dwelt young and cheerful down the _Lane_. +'(And, though I say it, I was much like JANE,) +'O'er flow'ry fields with _Hind_, I lov'd to stray, +'And talk, and laugh, and fool the time away: +'And Care defied; who not one pain could give, +'Till the thought came of how we were to live; +'And then Love plied his arrows thicker still: +'And prov'd victorious;--as he always will. + +_The Victory_. + +'We brav'd Life's storm together; while that Drone, +'Your poor old Uncle, WALTER, liv'd alone. +'He died the other day: when round his bed +'No tender soothing tear Affection shed-- +'Affection! 'twas a plant he never knew;-- +'Why should he feast on fruits he never grew?' + +WALTER caught fire: nor was _he_ charm'd alone +With conscious Truth's firm elevated tone; +JANE from her seat sprang forward, half afraid, +Attesting with a blush what Goody said. +Her Lover took a more decided part:-- +(O! 'twas the very Chord that touch'd his heart,)-- +Alive to the best feelings man can prize, +A Bridegroom's transport sparkled in his eyes; +Love, conquering power, with unrestricted range +Silenc'd the arguments of Time and Change; +And led his vot'ry on, and bade him view, +And prize the light-wing'd moments as they flew: + +_The Confession._ + +All doubts gave way, all retrospective lore, +Whence cooler Reason tortur'd him before; +Comparison of times, the Lab'rer's hire, +And many a truth Reflection might inspire, +Sunk powerless. 'Dame, I am a fool,' he cried; +'Alone I might have reason'd till I died. +'I caus'd those tears of Jane's:--but as they fell +'How much I felt none but ourselves can tell. +'While dastard fears withheld me from her sight; +'Sighs reign'd by day and hideous dreams by night; +''Twas then the Soldier's plume and rolling Drum +'Seem'd for a while to strike my sorrows dumb; +'To fly from Care then half resolv'd I stood, +'And without horror mus'd on fields of blood, +'But Hope prevail'd.--Be then the sword resign'd; +'And I'll make _Shares_ for those that stay behind, +'And you, sweet Girl,'------ +He would have added more, +Had not a glancing shadow at the door + +_Unexpected Visit._ + +Announc'd a guest, who bore with winning grace +His well-tim'd errand pictur'd in his face. +Around with silent reverence they stood; +A blameless reverence--the man was good. +Wealth he had some, a match for his desires, +First on the list of active Country 'Squires. +Seeing the youthful pair with downcast eyes, +Unmov'd by Summer-flowers and cloudless skies, +Pass slowly by his Gate; his book resign'd, +He watch'd their steps and follow'd far behind, +Bearing with inward joy, and honest pride, +A trust of WALTER'S kinsman ere he died, +A hard-earn'd mite, deposited with care, +And with a miser's spirit worshipt there. + He found what oft the generous bosom seeks, +In the Dame's court'seys and JANE'S blushing cheeks, +That consciousness of Worth, that freeborn Grace, +Which waits on Virtue in the meanest place. + +_The Difficulty remov'd_ + +'Young Mon, I'll not apologize to you, +'Nor name intrusion, for my news is true; +'Tis duty brings me here: your wants I've heard, +'And can relieve: yet be the dead rever'd. +'Here, in this Purse, (what should have cheer'd a Wife,) +'Lies, half the savings of your Uncle's life! +'I know your history, and your wishes know; +'And love to see the seeds of Virtue grow. +'I've a spare Shed that fronts the public road: +'Make that your Shop; I'll make it your abode. +'Thus much from me,--the rest is but your due.' +That instant twenty pieces sprung to view. +Goody, her dim eyes wiping, rais'd her brow, +And saw the young pair look they knew not how; +Perils and Power while humble minds forego, +Who gives them half a Kingdom gives them woe; +Comforts may be procur'd and want defied, +Heav'ns! with how small a Sum, when right applied! + +_How little of outward Good suffices for Happiness._ + +Give Love and honest Industry their way, +Clear but the Sun-rise of Life's little day, +Those we term poor shall oft that wealth obtain, +For which th' ambitious sigh, but sigh in vain: +Wealth that still brightens, as its stores increase; +The calm of Conscience, and the reign of Peace. + Walter's enamour'd Soul, from news like this, +Now felt the dawnings of his future bliss; +E'en as the Red-breast shelt'ring in a bower, +Mourns the short darkness of a passing Shower, +Then, while the azure sky extends around, +Darts on a worm that breaks the moisten'd ground, +And mounts the dripping fence, with joy elate, +And shares the prize triumphant with his mate; +So did the Youth;--the treasure straight became +An humble servant to Love's sacred flame; +Glorious subjection!--Thus his silence broke: +Joy gave him words; still quick'ning as he spoke. + +_Joy above Wealth_. + +'Want was my dread, my wishes were but few; +Others might doubt, but JANE those wishes knew: +This Gold may rid my heart of pains and sighs; +But her true love is still my greatest prize, +Long as I live, when this bright day comes round, +Beneath my Roof your noble deeds shall sound; +But, first, to make my gratitude appear, +I'll shoe your Honour's Horses for a Year; +If clouds should threaten when your Corn is down, +I'll lend a hand, and summon half the town; +If good betide, I'll sound it in my songs, +And be the first avenger of your wrongs: +Though rude in manners, free I hope to live: +This Ale's not mine, no Ale have I to give; +Yet, Sir, though Fortune frown'd when I was born, +Let's drink eternal friendship from this Horn. +How much our present joy to you we owe, +Soon our three Bells shall let the Neighbours know; + +_Grateful frankness_. + +'The sound shall raise e'en stooping Age awhile, +'And every Maid shall meet you with a smile; +'Long may you _live_'--the wish like lightning flew; +By each repeated as the 'Squire withdrew. +'Long may _you_ live,' his feeling heart rejoin'd; +Leaving well-pleas'd such happy Souls behind. +Hope promis'd fair to cheer them to the end; +With Love their guide, and Goody for their friend. + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE MILLER'S MAID. + + A Tale. + +Near the high road upon a winding stream +An honest Miller rose to Wealth and Fame: +The noblest Virtues cheer'd his lengthen'd days, +And all the Country echo'd with his praise: +His Wife, the Doctress of the neighb'ring Poor, +[Footnote: This village and the poor of this neighbourhood know what it is +to have possest such a blessing, and feel at this moment what it is to +lose it by death. C.L. +_Troston_, 13th of September, 1801.] +Drew constant pray'rs and blessings round his door. + +_The Tempest_. + +One Summer's night, (the hour of rest was come) +Darkness unusual overspread their home; +A chilling blast was felt; the foremost cloud +Sprinkl'd the bubbling Pool; and thunder loud, +Though distant yet, menac'd the country round, +And fill'd the Heavens with its solemn sound. +Who can retire to rest when tempests lour? +Nor wait the issue of the coming hour? +Meekly resign'd she sat, in anxious pain; +He fill'd his pipe, and listen'd to the rain +That batter'd furiously their strong abode, +Roar'd in the Damm, and lash'd the pebbled road: +When, mingling with the storm, confus'd and wild, +They heard, or thought they heard, a screaming _Child_: +The voice approach'd; and midst the thunder's roar, +Now loudly begg'd for Mercy at the door. + + MERCY was _there_: the Miller heard the call; +His door he open'd; when a sudden squall + +_The Young Stranger_. + +Drove in a wretched Girl; who weeping stood, +Whilst the cold rain dripp'd from her in a flood. +With kind officiousness the tender Dame +Rous'd up the dying embers to a flame; +Dry cloaths procur'd, and cheer'd her shiv'ring guest, +And sooth'd the sorrows of her infant breast. +But as she stript her shoulders, lily-white, +What marks of cruel usage shock'd their sight! +Weals, and blue wounds, most piteous to behold +Upon a Child yet scarcely Ten years old. + The _Miller_ felt his indignation rise, +Yet, as the weary stranger clos'd her eyes, +And seem'd fatigu'd beyond her strength and years, +'Sleep, Child,' he said, 'and wipe away your tears.' +They watch'd her slumbers till the storm was done; +When thus the generous Man again begun: +'See, fluttering sighs that rise against her will, +And agitating dreams disturb her still! + +_The Simple Story_. + +'Dame, we should know before we go to rest, +'Whence comes this Girl, and how she came distrest. +'Wake her, and ask; for she is sorely bruis'd: +'I long to know by whom she's thus misus'd. + + 'Child, what's your name? how came you in the storm? +'Have you no home to keep you dry and warm? +'Who gave you all those wounds your shoulders show? +'Where are your Parents? Whither would you go? + + The Stranger bursting into tears, look'd pale, +And this the purport of her artless tale. +'I have no Parents; and no friends beside: +'I well remember when my Mother died: +'My Brother cried; and so did I that day: +'We had no Father;--he was gone away; +'That night we left our home new cloaths to wear: +'The _Work-house_ found them; we were carried there. +'We lov'd each other dearly; when we met +'We always shar'd what trifles we could get. + +_Rustic Hospitality and Protection of the friendless_. + +But _George_ was older by a year than me:-- +He parted from me and was sent to Sea. +"Good-bye, dear Phoebe," the poor fellow said! +Perhaps he'll come again; perhaps he's dead. +When I grew strong enough I went to place, +My Mistress had a sour ill-natured face; +And though I've been so often beat and chid, +I strove to please her, Sir: indeed, I did. +Weary and spiritless to bed I crept, +And always cried at night before I slept. +This Morning I offended; and I bore +A cruel beating, worse than all before. +Unknown to all the House I ran away; +And thus far travell'd through the sultry day; +And, O don't send me back! I dare not go.'-- +'I send you back!' the Miller cried, 'no, no.' +Th' appeals of Wretchedness had weight with him, +And Sympathy would warm him every limb; + +_The Child becomes one of the Family_. + +He mutter'd, glorying in the work begun, +'Well done, my little Wench; 'twas nobly done!' +Then said, with looks more cheering than the fire, +And feelings such as Pity can inspire, +'My house has childless been this many a year; +While you deserve it you shall tarry here.' +The Orphan mark'd the ardor of his eye, +Blest his kind words, and thank'd him with a sigh. + +Thus was the sacred compact doubly seal'd; +Thus were her spirits rais'd, her bruises heal'd: +Thankful, and cheerful too, no more afraid, +Thus little PHOEBE was the Miller's Maid. +Grateful they found her; patient of controul: +A most bewitching gentleness of soul +Made pleasure of what work she had to do: +She grew in stature, and in beauty too. + +Five years she pass'd in this delightful home; +Five happy years: but, when the sixth was come, + +_The New Comer_. + +The _Miller_ from a Market Town hard by, +Brought home a sturdy Youth his strength to try, +To raise the sluice-gates early every morn, +To heave his powder'd sacks and grind his corn: +And meeting _Phoebe_, whom he lov'd so dear, +'I've brought you home a Husband, Girl?--D'ye hear? +He begg'd for work; his money seem'd but scant: +Those that will work 'tis pity they should want. +So use him well, and we shall shortly see +Whether he merits what I've done, like thee.' + +Now throbb'd her heart,--a new sensation +Whene'er the comely Stranger was in right: +For he at once assiduously strove. +To please so sweet a Maid, and win her love. +At every corner stopp'd her in her way; +And saw fresh beauties opening ev'ry day; +He took delight in tracing in her face +The mantling blush, and every nameless grace, + +[Footnote: A Maxim which all ought to remember. C.L.] + +_First Impressions_. + +That Sensibility would bring to view, +When Love he mention'd;---Love, and Honour true, +But _Phoebe_ still was shy; and wish'd to know +More of the honest Youth, whose manly brow +She verily believ'd was Truth's own throne, +And all his words as artless as her own; +Most true she judg'd; yet, long the Youth forbore +Divulging where, and how, he liv'd before; +And seem'd to strive his History to hide, +Till fair Esteem enlisted on his side. +The _Miller_ saw, and mention'd, in his prajse, +The prompt fidelity of all his ways; +Till in a vacant hour, the Dinner done, +One day he jokjng cried, 'Come here, my Son! +'Tis pity that so good a Lad as you +Beneath my roof should bring disorders new! +But here's my _Phoebe_,--once so light and airy, +She'd trip along the passage like a Fairy,-- + +_Enquiry. Ingenuous Explanation_. + +Has lost her swiftness quite, since here you came:-- +And yet;... I can't perceive the Girl is lame! +The obstacles she meets with still fall thicker: +Old as I am I'd turn a corner quicker.'-- +The _Youth_ blush'd deep; and _Phoebe_ hung her head: +The _good Man_ smil'd, and thus again he said: + +'Not that I deem it matter of surprise, +That you should love to gaze at _Phoebe's_ eyes; +But be explicit, Boy; and deal with honour: +I feel my happiness depend upon her. +When here you came you'd sorrow on your brow; +And I've forborne to question you till now. +First, then, say what thou art.' He instant bow'd, +And thus, in _Phoebe's_ hearing, spoke aloud: + +'Thus far experienc'd, Sir, in you I find +All that is generous, fatherly, and kind; +And while you look for proofs of real worth, +You'll not regard the meanness of my birth. + +_The little History_. + +When, pennyless and sad, you met with me, +I'd just escap'd the dangers of the Sea; +Resolv'd to try my fortune on the shore: +To get my bread; and trust the waves no more. +Having no Home, nor Parents, left behind, +I'd all my fortune, all my Friends, to find. +Keen disappointment wounded me that morn: +For, trav'ling near the spot where I was born, +I at the well-known door where I was bred, +Inquir'd who still was living, who was dead: +But first, and most, I sought with anxious fear +Tidings to gain of her who once was dear; +A Girl, with all the meekness of the dove, +The constant sharer of my childhood's love; +She call'd me _Brother_:--which I heard with pride, +Though now suspect we are not so allied. +Thus much I learnt; (no more the churls would say;) +She went to service, and she ran away. + +_The Recognition_. + +'And scandal added'----'Hold!' the _Miller_ cried, +And, in an instant, stood at _Phoebe's_ side; +For he observed, while list'ning to the tale, +Her spirits faulter'd, and her cheeks turn'd pale; +Whilst her clasp'd hands descended to her knee +She sinking whisper'd forth, 'O _God_, 'tis _he_! +The good Man, though he guess'd the pleasing truth, +Was far too busy to inform the Youth; +But stirr'd himself amain to aid his Wife, +Who soon restor'd the trembler back to life. +Awhile insensible she still appear'd; +But, '_O my Brother!_' was distinctly heard: +The astonisht Youth now held her to his breast; +And tears and kisses soon explain'd the rest. + +Past deeds now from each tongue alternate fell; +For news of dearest import both could tell. +Fondly, from childhood's tears to youth's full prime, +They match'd the incidents of jogging time; + +_ Mutual Recollections_. + +And prov'd, that when with Tyranny opprest, +Poor _Phoebe_ groan'd with wounds and broken rest, +_George_ felt no less: was harassed and forlorn; +A rope's-end follow'd him both night and morn. +Andin that very storm when _Phoebe_ fled, +When the rain drench'd her yet unshelter'd head; +That very Storm he on the Ocean brav'd, +The Vessel founder'd, and the Boy was say'd! +Mysterious Heaven!--and O with what delight-- +She told the happy issue of her flight: +To his charm'd heart a living picture drew; +And gave to hospitality its due! +The list'ning Host observ'd the gentle Pair; +And ponder'd on the means that brought them there: +Convinc'd, while unimpeach'd their Virtue stood, +Twas _Heav'n's_ high Will that he should do them good. + +But now the anxious Dame, impatient grown, +Demanded what the Youth had heard, or known, + +_The Investigation_. + +Whereon to ground those doubts but just exprest;-- +Doubts, which must interest the feeling breast: +'Her Brother wert thou, George?--how; prithee say: +Canst thou forego, or cast that name away?' + +'No living proofs have I,' the Youth reply'd, +That we by closest ties are not allied; +But in my memory live, and ever will, +A mother's dying words......I hear them still: +She said, to one who watch'd her parting breath, +"Don't separate the Children at my death; +They're not both mine: but--" Here the scene was clos'd; +She died, and left us helpless and expos'd; +Nor Time hath thrown, nor Reason's opening power, +One friendly ray on that benighted hour.' + +Ne'er did the Chieftains of a Warring State +Hear from the _Oracle_ their half-told fate +With more religious fear, or more suspense, +Than _Phoebe_ now endur'd:--for every sense + +_The Perplexity_. + +Became absorb'd in this unwelcome theme; +Nay every meditation, every dream, +Th'inexplicable sentence held to view, +'They're not both mine,' was every morning new: +For, till this hour, the Maid had never prov'd +How far she was enthrall'd, how much she lov'd: +In that fond character he first appear'd; +His kindness charm'd her, and his smiles endear'd: +This dubious mystery the passion crost; +Her peace was wounded, and her Lover lost. +For _George_, with all his resolution strove +To check the progress of his growing love; +Or, if he e'er indulg'd a tender kiss, +Th'unravell'd secret robb'd him of his bliss. +Health's foe, Suspense, so irksome to be borne, +An ever-piercing and retreating thorn, +Hung on their Hearts, when Nature bade them rise, +And stole Content's bright ensign from their eyes. + +_Anxiety. The Enquiry suggested_. + + The good folks saw the change, and griev'd to find +These troubles labouring in _Phoebe's_ mind; +They lov'd them both; and with one voice propos'd +The only means whence _Truth_ might be disclos'd; +That, when the Summer Months should shrink the rill, +And scarce its languid stream would turn the Mill, +When the Spring broods, and Pigs, and Lambs were rear'd, +(A time when _George_ and _Phoebe_ might be spar'd,) +Their birth-place they should visit once again, +To try with joint endeavours to obtain +From Record, or Tradition, what might be +To chain, or set their chain'd affections free: +Affinity beyond all doubts to prove; +Or clear the road for Nature and for Love. + Never, till now, did PHOEBE count the hours, +Or think _May_ long, or wish away its flowers; +With mutual sighs both fann'd the wings of Time; +As we climb Hills and gladden as we climb, + +_Eager Expectation_. + +And reach at last the distant promis'd seat, +Casting the glowing landscape at our feet +Oft had the Morning Rose with dew been wet, +And oft the journeying Sun in glory set, +Beyond the willow'd meads of vigorous grass, +The steep green hill, and woods they were to pass; +When now: the day arriv'd: Impatience reign'd; +And GEORGE,--by trifling obstacles detain'd-- +His bending Blackthorn on the threshold prest, +Survey'd the windward clouds, and hop'd the best. +PHOEBE, attir'd with every modest grace, +While Health and Beauty revell'd in her face, +Came forth; but soon evinc'd an absent mind, +For, back she turn'd for something left behind; +Again the same, till George grew tir'd of home, +And peevishly exclaim'd, _'Come, Phoebe, come.'_ +Another hindrance yet he had to feel: +As from the door they tripp'd with nimble heel, + +_The Old Soldier_. + +A poor old Man, foot-founder'd and alone, +Thus urgent spoke, in Trouble's genuine tone: +'My pretty Maid, if happiness you seek, +May disappointment never fade your cheek!-- +Your's be the joy;--yet, feel another's woe; +O leave some little, gift before you go.' +His words struck home; and back she turn'd again, +(The ready friend of indigence and pain,) +To banish hunger from his shatter'd frame; +And close behind her, lo, the _Miller_, came, +With Jug in hand, and cried, 'GEORGE, why such haste? +Here, take a draught; and let that _Soldier_ taste.' +'Thanks for your bounty, Sir,' the _Veteran_ said; +Threw down his Wallet, and made bare his head; +And straight began, though mix'd with doubts and fears, +Th' unprefac'd History of his latter years, +'I cross'd th' _Atlantic_ with our Regiment, brave, +Where Sickness sweeps whole Regiments to the grave; + +_The Surprise_. + +Yet I've escap'd; and bear my arms no more; +My age discharg'd me when I came on shore. +My Wife, I've heard,'--and here he wip'd his eyes,--- +'In the cold corner of the Church-yard lies. +By her consent it was I left my home: +Employment fail'd, and poverty waa come; +The Bounty tempted me;--she had it all: +We parted; and I've seen my betters fall. +Yet, as I'm spar'd, though in this piteous case, +I'm tray'ling homeward to my native place; +Though should I reach that dear remember'd spot, +Perhaps OLD GRAINGER will be quite forgot.' + +All eyes beheld young _George_ with wonder start: +Strong were the secret bodings of his heart; +Yet not indulg'd: for he with doubts survey'd +By turns the Stranger, and the lovely Maid. +'Had you no Children?'--'Yes, young Man; I'd two: +A _Boy_, if still he lives, as old as you: + +_The Discovery_. + +Yet not my own; but likely so to prove; +Though but the pledge of an unlawful Love: +I cherish'd him, to hide a _Sister's_ shame: +He shar'd my best affections, and my name. +But why, young folks, should I detain you here? +Go; and may blessings wait upon your cheer: +I too will travel on;--perhaps to find +The only treasure that I left behind. +Such kindly thoughts my fainting hopes revive!-- +_Phoebe_, my Cherub, ART _thou_ still alive?' + +Could Nature hold!--Could youthful Love forbear! +_George_ clasp'd the wond'ring _Maid_, and whisper'd, '_There_! +_You're mine for, ever_!--O, sustain the rest; +And hush the tumult of your throbbing breast.' +Then to the _Soldier_ turn'd, with manly pride, +And fondly led his long-intended _Bride_: +'Here see your _Child_; nor wish a sweeter flow'r. +'Tis _George_ that speaks; thou'lt bless the happy hour!-- + +_The Bliss of disinterested Benevolence_. + +Nay, be compos'd; for all will yet be well, +Though here our history's too long to tell'-- + +A long-lost Father found, the mystery clear'd, +What mingled transports in _her_ face appear'd! +The gazing _Veteran_ stood with hands uprais'd-- +'Art thou _indeed_ my Child! then, God be prais'd.' +O'er his rough cheeks the tears profusely spread: +Such as fools say become not Men to shed; +Past hours of bliss, regenerated charms, +Rose, when he felt his Daughter in his arms: +So tender was the scene, the generous Dame +Wept, as she told of _Phoebe's_ virtuous fame, +And the good Host, with gestures passing strange, +Abstracted seem'd through fields of joy to range: +Rejoicing that his favour'd Roof should prove +Virtue's asylum, and the nurse of Love; +Rejoicing that to him the task was given, +his full Soul was mounting up to Heav'n. + +_The Adopted Daughter_. + +But now, as from a dream, his Reason sprung, +And heartiest greetings dwelt upon his tongue; +The sounding Kitchen floor at once receiv'd +The happy group, with all their fears reliev'd: +'Soldier,' he cried, 'you've found your Girl; 'tis true: +But suffer _me_ to be a Father too; +For, never Child that blest a Parent's knee, +Could show more duty than she has to met +Strangely she came; Affliction chas'd her hard: +I pitied her;--and this is my reward! +Here sit you down; recount your perils o'er: +Henceforth be this your home; and grieve no more: +Plenty hath shower'd her dewdrops on my head; +Care visits not my Table, nor my Bed. +My heart's warm wishes thus then I fulfill:-- +My Dame and I can live without the Mill: +_George_, take the whole; I'll near you still remain +To guide your judgment in the choice of Grain: + +_Perfect Content: hopes and prospects of Goodness_. + +In Virtue's path commence your prosperous life; +And from my hand receive your worthy Wife. +Rise, _Phoebe_; rise, my Girl!--kneel not to me; +But to THAT POW'R who interpos'd for thee. +Integrity hath mark'd your favourite Youth; +Fair budding Honour, Constancy, and Truth: +Go to his arms;--and may unsullied joys +Bring smiling round me, rosy Girls and Boys! +I'll love them for thy sake. And may your days +Glide on, as glides the Stream that never stays; +Bright as whose shingled bed, till life's decline, +May all your Worth, and all your Virtues shine!' + + + +[Illustration] + + THE WIDOW TO HER HOUR-GLASS. + +Come, friend, I'll turn thee up again: +Companion of the lonely hour! +Spring thirty times hath fed with rain +And cloath'd with leaves my humble bower, + Since thou hast stood + In frame of wood, +On Chest or Window by my side: +At every Birth still thou wert near, +Still spoke thine admonitions clear.-- + And, when my Husband died, + +I've often watch'd thy streaming sand +And seen the growing Mountain rise, +And often found Life's hopes to stand +On props as weak in Wisdom's eyes: + Its conic crown + Still sliding down, +Again heap'd up, then down again; +The sand above more hollow grew, +Like days and years still filt'ring through, + And mingling joy and pain. + +While thus I spin and sometimes sing, +(For now and then my heart will glow) +Thou measur'st Time's expanding wing +By thee the noontide hour I know: + Though silent thou, + Still shalt thou flow, +And jog along thy destin'd way: +But when I glean the sultry fields, +When Earth her yellow Harvest yields, + Thou get'st a Holiday. + +Steady as Truth, on either end +Thy daily task performing well, +Thou'rt Meditation's constant friend, +And strik'st the Heart without a Bell: + Come, lovely May! + Thy lengthen'd day +Shall gild once more thy native plain; +Curl inward here, sweet Woodbine flow'r;-- +'Companion of the lonely hour, + 'I'll turn thee up again. + + + +[Illustration] + + + MARKET-NIGHT. + +'O Winds, howl not so long and loud; +Nor with your vengeance arm the snow: +Bear hence each heavy-loaded cloud; +And let the twinkling Star-beams glow. + +'Now sweeping floods rush down the slope, +Wide scattering ruin.--Stars, shine soon! +No other light my Love can hope; +Midnight will want the joyous _Moon_. + +'O guardian Spirits!--Ye that dwell +Where woods, and pits, and hollow ways, +The lone night-trav'ler's fancy swell +With fearful tales, of older days,-- + +'Press round him:--guide his willing steed +Through darkness, dangers, currents, snows; +Wait where, from shelt'ring thickets freed, +The dreary Heath's rude whirlwind blows. + +'From darkness rushing o'er his way, +The Thorn's white load it bears on high! +Where the short furze all shrouded lay, +Mounts the dried grass;--Earth's bosom dry. + +'Then o'er the Hill with furious sweep +It rends the elevated tree-- +Sure-footed beast, thy road thou'lt keep; +Nor storm nor darkness startles thee! + +'O blest assurance, (trusty steed,) +To thee the buried road is known; +_Home_, all the spur thy footsteps need, +When loose the frozen rein is thrown, + +'Between the roaring blasts that shake +The naked Elder at the door, +Though not one prattler to me speak, +Their sleeping sighs delight me more. + +'Sound is their rest:--they little know +What pain, what cold, their Father feels; +But dream, perhaps, they see him now, +While each the promis'd Orange peels. + +Would it were so!--the fire burns bright, +And on the warming trencher gleams; +In Expectation's raptur'd sight +How precious his arrival seems! + +'I'll look abroad!--'tis piercing cold!-- +How the bleak wind assails his breast! +Yet some faint light mine eyes, behold: +The storm is verging o'er the West. + +'There shines a _Star!_--O welcome sight!-- +Through the thin vapours brightening still! +Yet, 'twas beneath the fairest night +The murd'rer stained yon lonely Hill. + +'Mercy, kind Heav'n! such thoughts dispel! +No voice, no footstep can I hear! +(Where Night and Silence brooding dwell, +Spreads thy cold reign, heart-chilling Fear.) + +'Distressing hour! uncertain fate! +O Mercy, Mercy, guide him home!-- +Hark!--then I heard the distant gate;-- +Repeat it, Echo; quickly, come! + +'One minute now will ease my fears-- +Or, still more wretched must I be? +No: surely Heaven has spar'd our tears: +I see him, cloath'd in snow;--'_tis_ he.-- + +'Where have you stay'd? put down your load. +How have you borne the storm, the cold? +What horrors did I not forebode-- +That Beast is worth his weight in gold.' + +Thus spoke the joyful Wife;--then ran +And hid in grateful steams her head: +Dapple was hous'd, the hungry Man +With joy glanc'd o'er the Children's bed. + +'What, all asleep!--so best;' he cried: +O what a night I've travell'd through! +Unseen, unheard, I might have died; +But Heaven has brought me safe to you. + +'Dear Partner of my nights and days, +That smile becomes thee!--Let us then +Learn, though mishap may cross our ways, +It is not ours to reckon when.' + + + +THE FAKENHAM GHOST. + +A Ballad. + +The Lawns were dry in Euston Park; + (Here Truth [1] inspires my Tale) +The lonely footpath, still and dark, + Led over Hill and Dale. + +[Footnote 1: This Ballad is founded on a fact. The circumstance occurred +perhaps long before I was born: but is still related by my Mother, and +some of the oldest inhabitants in that part of the country. R.B.] + +Benighted was an ancient Dame, + And fearful haste she made +To gain the vale of Fakenham, + And hail its Willow shade. + +Her footsteps knew no idle stops, + But follow'd faster still; +And echo'd to the darksome Copse + That whisper'd on the Hill; + +Where clam'rous Rooks, yet scarcely hush'd, + Bespoke a peopled shade; +And many a wing the foliage brush'd, + And hov'ring circuits made. + +The dappled herd of grazing Deer + That sought the Shades by day, +Now started from her path with fear, + And gave the Stranger way. + +Darker it grew; and darker fears + Came o'er her troubled mind; +When now, a short quick step she hears + Come patting close behind. + +She turn'd; it stopt;--nought could she see + Upon the gloomy plain! +But, as she strove the Sprite to flee, + She heard the same again. + +Now terror seiz'd her quaking frame; + For, where the path was bare, +The trotting Ghost kept on the same! + She mutter'd many a pray'r. + +Yet once again, amidst her fright + She tried what sight could do; +When through the cheating glooms of night, + A MONSTER stood in view. + +Regardless of whate'er she felt, + It follow'd down the plain! +She own'd her sins, and down she knelt, + And said her pray'rs again. + +Then on she sped: and Hope grew strong, + The white park gate in view; +Which pushing hard, so long it swung + That _Ghost_ and all pass'd through. + +Loud fell the gate against the post! + Her heart-strings like to crack: +For, much she fear'd the grisly Ghost + Would leap upon her back. + +Still on, pat, pat, the Goblin went, + As it had done before:-- +Her strength and resolution spent, + She fainted at the door. + +Out came her Husband much surpris'd: + Out came her Daughter dear: +Good-natur'd Souls! all unadvis'd + Of what they had to fear. + +The Candle's gleam pierc'd through the night, + Some short space o'er the green; +And there the little trotting Sprite + Distinctly might be seen. + +An _Ass's Foal_ had lost its Dam + Within the spacious Park; +And simple as the playful Lamb + Had follow'd in the dark. + +No Goblin he; no imp of sin: + No crimes had ever known. +They took the shaggy stranger in, + And rear'd him as their own. + +His little hoofs would rattle round + Upon the Cottage floor: +The Matron learn'd to love the sound + That frighten'd her before. + +A favorite the Ghost became; + And, 'twas his fate to thrive: +And long he liv'd and spread his fame, + And kept the joke alive. + +For many a laugh went through the Vale; + And some conviction tod:-- +Each thought some other Goblin + Perhaps, was just as true. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + THE FRENCH MARINER. + + A Ballad. + +An Old _French Mariner_ am I, +Whom Time hath render'd poor and gray; +Hear, conquering _Britons_, ere I die, +What anguish prompts me thus to say. + +I've rode o'er many a dreadful wave, +I've seen the reeking blood descend: +I've heard the last groans of the brave;-- +The shipmate dear, the steady Friend. + +'Twas when _De Grasse_ the battle join'd +And struck, on _April's_ fatal morn: +I left three smiling boys behind, +And saw my Country's Lily torn. + +There, as I brav'd the storms of Fate, +Dead in my arms my Brother fell; +Here sits forlorn his widow'd Mate, +Who weeps whene'er the tale I tell. + +Thy reign, sweet Peace, was o'er too soon; +War, piecemeal, robs me of my joy: +For, on the bloodstain'd _first_ of _June_ +Death took my _eldest_ favorite Boy. + +The other two enrag'd arose; +'Our Country claims our lives,' they said. +With them I lost my Soul's repose; +That fatal hour my last hope fled. + +With BRUYES the proud NILE they sought; +Where one in ling'ring wounds expir'd; +While yet the other bravely fought +The Orient's magazine was fir'd. + +And must I mourn my Country's shame? +And envious curse the conquering Foe? +No more I feel that thirst of Fame;--All +I can feel is private woe. + +E'en all the joy that Vict'ry brings, +(Her bellowing Guns, and flaming pride) +Cold, momentary comfort flings +Around where weeping Friends reside. + +Whose blighted bud no Sun shall cheer, +Whose Lamp of Life no longer shine: +Some Parent, Brother, Child, most dear, +Who ventur'd, and who died like mine. + +Proud crested Fiend, the World's worst foe, +Ambition, canst thou boast one deed, +Whence no unsightly horrors flow, +Nor private peace is seen to bleed? + +Ah! why do these old Eyes remain +To see succeeding mornings rise! +My Wife is dead, my Children slain. +And Poverty is all my prize. + +Yet shall not poor enfeebled Age +Breathe forth revenge;--but rather say +O God, who seest the Battle's rage, +Take from men's hearts that rage away. + +From the vindictive tongue of strife +Bid Hatred and false Glory See; +That babes may meet advancing life, +Nor feel the woes that light on me. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + DOLLY + + +_"Ingenuous trust, and confidence of Love."_ + + +The Bat began with giddy wing +His circuit round the Shed, the Tree; +And clouds of dancing Gnats to sing +A summer-night's serenity. + +Darkness crept slowly o'er the East! +Upon the Barn-roof watch'd the Cat; +Sweet breath'd the ruminating Beast +At rest where DOLLY musing sat. + +A simple Maid, who could employ +The silent lapse of Evening mild, +And lov'd its solitary joy; +For Dolly was Reflection's child. + +He who had pledg'd his word to be +Her life's dear guardian, far away, +The flow'r of Yeoman Cavalry, +Bestrode a Steed with trappings gay. + +And thus from memory's treasur'd sweets, +And thus from Love's pure fount she drew +That peace, which busy care defeats, +And bids our pleasures bloom anew. + +Six weeks of absence have I borne +Since HENRY took his fond farewell: +The charms of that delightful morn +My tongue could thus for ever tell. + +He at my Window whistling loud, +Arous'd my lightsome heart to go: +Day, conqu'ring climb'd from cloud to cloud; +The fields all wore a purple glow. + +We stroll'd the bordering flow'rs among: +One hand the Bridle held behind; +The other round my waist was flung: +Sure never Youth spoke half so kind! + +The rising Lark I could but hear; +And jocund seem'd the song to be: +But sweeter sounded in my ear, +'Will _Dolly_ still be true to me!' + +From the rude Dock my skirt had swept +A fringe of clinging burrs so green; +Like them our hearts still closer crept, +And hook'd a thousand holds unseen. + +High o'er the road each branching bough +Its globes of silent dew had shed; +And on the pure-wash'd sand below +The dimpling drops around had spread. + +The sweet-brier op'd its pink-ey'd rose, +And gave its fragrance to the gale; +Though modest flow'rs may sweets disclose; +More sweet was HENRY'S earnest tale. + +He seem'd, methought, on that dear morn, +To pour out all his heart to me; +As if, the separation borne, +The coming hours would joyless be, + +A bank rose high beside the way, +And full against the Morning Sun; +Of heay'nly blue there Violets gay +His hand invited one by. + +The posy with a smile he gave; +I saw his meaning in his eyes: +The withered treasure still I have; +My bosom holds the fragrant prize. + +With his last kiss he would have vow'd; +But blessings crouding forc'd their way: +Then mounted he his Courser proud; +His time elaps'd, he could not stay. + +Then first I felt the parting pang;-- +Sure the worst pang the Lover feels! +His Horse unruly from me sprang, +The pebbles flew beneath his heels; + +Then down the road his vigour tried, +His rider gazing, gazing still; +_'My dearest, I'll be true_,' he cried:-- +And, if he lives, I'm sure he will. + +Then haste, ye hours, haste, Eve and Morn, +Yet strew your blessings round my home: +Ere Winter's blasts shall strip the thorn +My promis'd joy, my love, will come. + + + + + LINES OCCASIONED BY A VISIT TO WHITTLEBURY FOREST, + + NORTHAMPTONSHIRE, IN AUGUST, 1800. + + ADDRESSED TO MY CHILDREN. + + +Genius of the Forest Shades! +Lend thy pow'r, and lend thine ear! +A Stranger trod thy lonely glades, +Amidst thy dark and bounding Deer; +Inquiring Childhood claims the verse, +O let them not inquire in vain; +Be with me while I thus rehearse +The glories of thy Sylvan Reign. + +Thy Dells by wint'ry currents worn, +Secluded haunts, how dear to me! +From all but Nature's converse borne, +No ear to hear, no eye to see. +Their honour'd leaves the green Oaks rear'd, +And crown'd the upland's graceful swell; +While answering through the vale was heard +Each distant Heifer's tinkling bell. + +Hail, Greenwood shades, that stretching far, +Defy e'en Summer's noontide pow'r, +When August in his burning Car +Withholds the Cloud, withholds the Show'r. +The deep-ton'd Low from either Hill, +Down hazel aisles and arches green, +(The Herd's rude tracks from rill to rill) +Roar'd echoing through the solemn scene. + +From my charm'd heart the numbers sprung, +Though Birds had ceas'd the choral lay: +I pour'd wild raptures from my tongue, +And gave delicious tears their way. +Then, darker shadows seeking still, +Where human foot had seldom stray'd, +I read aloud to every Hill +Sweet Emma's Love, 'the Nut-brown Maid.' + +Shaking his matted mane on high +The gazing Colt would raise his head; +Or, tim'rous Doe would rushing fly, +And leave to me her grassy bed: +Where, as the azure sky appear'd +Through Bow'rs of every varying form, +Midst the deep gloom methought I heard +The daring progress of the storm. + +How would each sweeping pond'rous bough +Resist, when straight the Whirlwind cleaves, +Dashing in strength'ning eddies through +A roaring wilderness of leaves! +How would the prone descending show'r +From the green Canopy rebound! +How would the lowland torrents pour! +How deep the pealing thunder sound! + +But Peace was there: no lightnings blaz'd:-- +No clouds obscur'd the face of Heav'n: +Down each green op'ning while I gaz'd, +My thoughts to home, and you, were giv'n. +O tender minds! in life's gay morn +Some clouds must dim your coming day; +Yet, bootless pride and falsehood scorn, +And peace like this shall cheer your way. + +Now, at the dark Wood's stately side, +Well pleas'd I met the Sun again; +Here fleeting Fancy travell'd wide! +My seat was destin'd to the Main: +For, many an Oak lay stretch'd at length, +Whose trunks (with bark no longer sheath'd) +Had reach'd their full meridian strength +Before your Father's Father breath'd! + +Perhaps they'll many a conflict brave, +And many a dreadful storm defy; +Then groaning o'er the adverse wave, +Bring home the flag of victory. +Go, then, proud Oaks; we meet no more! +Go, grace the scenes to me denied, +The white Cliffs round my native shore, +And the loud Ocean's swelling tide. + +'Genius of the Forest Shades,' +Sweet, from the heights of thy domain, +When the grey ev'ning shadow fades, +To view the Country's golden grain! +To view the gleaming Village Spire +Midst distant groves unknown to me; +Groves, that grown bright in borrow'd fire, +Bow o'er the peopled Vales to thee! + +Where was thy Elfin train that play +Round _Wake's_ huge Oak, their favourite tree; +May a poor son of Song thus say, +Why were they not reveal'd to me! +Yet, smiling Fairies left behind, +Affection brought you to nay view; +To love and tenderness resign'd, +I sat me down and thought of you. + +When Morning still unclouded rose, +Refresh'd with sleep and joyous dreams, +Where fruitful fields with woodlands close, +I trac'd the births of various streams. +From beds of Clay, here creeping rills +Unseen to parent _Ouse_ would steal; +Or, gushing from the northward Hills, +'Would glitter through _Toves'_ winding dale. + +But ah! ye cooling springs, farewell! +Herds, I no more your freedom share; +But long my grateful tongue shall tell +What brought your gazing stranger there. +'Genius of the Forest Shades, +'Lend thy power, and lend thine ear;' +Let dreams still lengthen thy long glades, +And bring thy peace and silence here. + + + + + SONG FOR A HIGHLAND DROVER RETURNING FROM ENGLAND. + +Now fare-thee-well, England; no further I'll roam; +But follow my shadow that points the way home; +Your gay southern Shores shall not tempt me to stay; +For my Maggy's at Home, and my Children at play! +Tis this makes my Bonnet set light on my brow, +Gives my sinews their strength and my bosom its glow. + +Farewell, Mountaineers! my companions, adieu; +Soon, many long miles when I'm severed from you, +I shall miss your white Horns on the brink of the Bourne, +And o'er the rough Heaths, where you'll never return: +But in brave English pastures you cannot complain, +While your Drover speeds back to his Maggy again. + +O Tweed! gentle Tweed, as I pass your green vales, +More than life, more than Love, my tir'd Spirit inhales; +There Scotland, my darling, lies full in my view, +With her bare-footed Lasses and Mountains so blue: +To the Mountains away; my heart bounds like the Hind; +For home is so sweet, and my Maggy so kind. + +As day after day I still follow my course, +And in fancy trace back every Stream to its source, +Hope cheers me up hills, where the road lies before +O'er hills just as high, and o'er tracks of wild Moor; +The keen polar Star nightly rising to view; +But Maggy's my Star, just as steady and true. + +O Ghosts of my Fathers! O heroes, look down! +Fix my wandering thoughts on your deeds of renown, +For the glory of Scotland reigns warm in my breast, +And fortitude grows both from toil and from rest; +May your deeds and your worth be for ever in view, +And may Maggy bear sons not unworthy of you. + +Love, why do you urge me, so weary and poor? +I cannot step faster, I cannot do more; +I've pass'd silver Tweed; e'en the Tay flows behind: +Yet fatigue I'll disdain;--my reward I shall find: +Thou, sweet smile of innocence, thou art my prize; +And the joy that will sparkle in Maggy's blue eyes. + +She'll watch to the southward;--perhaps she will sigh, +That the way is so long, and the Mountains so high; +Perhaps some huge Rock in the dusk she may see, +And will say in her fondness, 'That surely is he!' +Good Wife, you're deceiv'd; I'm still far from my home; +Go, sleep, my dear Maggy,--to-morrow I'll come. + + + + + A WORD TO TWO YOUNG LADIES. + +WHEN tender Rose-trees first receive +On half-expanded Leaves, the Shower; +Hope's gayest pictures we believe, +And anxious watch each coining flower. + +Then, if beneath the genial Sun +That spreads abroad the full-blown May, +Two infant Stems the rest out-run, +Their buds the first to meet the day, + +With joy their op'ning tints we view, +While morning's precious moments fly: +My pretty Maids, 'tis thus with _you_; +The fond admiring gazer, _I_. + +Preserve, sweet Buds, where'er you be; +The richest gem that decks a Wife; +The charm of _female modesty:_ +And let sweet Music give it life. + +Still may the favouring Muse be found: +Still circumspect the paths ye tread: +Plant moral truths in Fancy's ground; +And meet old Age without a dread. + +Yet, ere that comes, while yet ye quaff +The cup of Health without a pain, +I'll shake my grey hairs when you laugh, +And, when you sing, be young again. + +Both the young Ladies had addressed to me a few complimentary lines, (and +I am sorry that those of the elder sister were never in my possession;) in +return for which I sent the above. It was received on the day on which the +younger completed her ninth year. Surely it cannot be ascribed to vanity, +if, in gratitude to a most amiable family, I here preserve verbatim an +effort of a child nine years old. I hare the more pleasure in doing it, +because _I know_ them to be her own. R.B. + +"Accept, dear Bard, the Muse's genuine thought, +And take not ill the tribute of my heart:-- +For thee the laureat wreath of praise I'll bind, +None that have read thy commendable mind +Can let it pass unnotic'd--nor can I-- +For by thy lays I know thy sympathy." F.P. + + + + ON HEARING THE TRANSLATION OF PART OF THE FARMER'S BOY INTO LATIN + + _By the Rev. Mr. C--;_ + +Hey, Giles! in what new garb art dresst? +For Lads like you methinks a bold one; +I'm glad to see thee so caresst; +But, hark ye!--don't despise your old one. +Thou'rt not the first by many, a Boy +Who've found abroad good friends to own 'em; +Then, in such Coats have shown their joy, +E'en their _own Fathers_ have not known 'em. + + + +[Illustration] + + + NANCY + + A Song. + + +You ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume +That you cherish a secret affection for me? +When we see the Flow'rs bud, don't we look for the Bloom? +Then, sweetest, attend, while I answer to thee. + +When we Young Men with pastimes the Twilight beguile, +I watch your plump cheek till it dimples with joy: +And observe, that whatever occasions the smile, +You give me a glance; but provokingly coy. + +Last Month, when wild Strawberries pluckt in the Grove, +Like beads on the tall seeded grass you had strung; +You gave me the choicest; I hop'd 'twas for Love; +And I told you my hopes while the Nightingale sung. + +Remember the Viper:--'twas close at your feet; +How you started, and threw yourself into my arms; +Not a Strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet +As the lips which I kiss'd to subdue your alarms. + +As I pull'd down the clusters of Nuts for my Fair, +What a blow I receiv'd from a strong bending bough; +Though Lucy and other gay lasses were there, +Not one of them show'd such compassion as you. + +And was it compassion?--by Heaven 'twas more! +A telltale betrays you;--that blush on your cheek. +Then come, dearest Maid, all your trifling give o'er, +And whisper what Candour will teach you to speak. + +Can you stain my fair Honour with one broken vow? +Can you say that I've ever occasion'd a pain? +On Truth's honest base let your tenderness grow: +I swear to be faithful, again and again. + + + +[Illustration] + + + ROSY HANNAH. + +A Spring o'erhung with many a flow'r, +The grey sand dancing in its bed, +Embank'd beneath a Hawthorn bower, +Sent forth its waters near my head: +A rosy Lass approach'd my view; +I caught her blue eye's modest beam: +The stranger nodded 'How d'ye do!' +And leap'd across the infant stream. + +The water heedless pass'd away: +With me her glowing image stay'd. +I strove, from that auspicious day, +To meet and bless the lovely Maid. +I met her where beneath our feet +Through downy Moss the Wild-Thyme grew; +Nor Moss elastic, flow'rs though sweet, +Match'd Hannah's cheek of rosy hue. + +I met her where the dark Woods wave, +And shaded verdure skirts the plain; +And when the pale Moon rising gave +New glories to her cloudy train. +From her sweet Cot upon the Moor +Our plighted vows to Heaven are flown; +Truth made me welcome at her door, +And rosy Hannah is my own. + + + +[Illustration] + + +Song. + + THE SHEPHERD AND HIS DOG ROVER. + + +ROVER, awake! the grey Cock crows! +Come, shake your coat and go with me! +High in the East the green Hill glows; +And glory crowns our shelt'ring Tree. +The Sheep expect us at the fold: +My faithful Dog, let's haste away, +And in his earliest beams behold, +And hail, the source of cheerful day. + +Half his broad orb o'erlooks the Hill, +And darting down the Valley flies: +At every casement welcome still; +The golden summons of the skies. +Go, fetch my Staff; and o'er the dews +Let Echo waft thy gladsome voice. +Shall we a cheerful note refuse +When rising Morn proclaims 'Rejoice!' + +Now then we'll start; and thus I'll sling +Our store, a trivial load to bear: +Yet, ere night comes, should hunger sting, +I'll not encroach on _Rover's_ share. +The fresh breeze bears its sweets along; +The Lark but chides us while we stay: +Soon shall the Vale repeat my song; +Go brush before, away, away. + + + + HUNTING SONG + +Ye darksome Woods where Echo dwells, +Where every bud with freedom swells + To meet the glorious day: +The morning breaks; again rejoice; +And with old Ringwood's well-known voice + Bid tuneful Echo play. + +We come, ye Groves, ye Hills, we come: +The vagrant Fox shall hear: his doom, + And dread our jovial train. +The shrill Horn sounds, the courser flies, +While every Sportsman joyful cries, + 'There's Ringwood's voice again.' + +Ye Meadows, hail the coming throng; +Ye peaceful Streams that wind along, + Repeat the Hark-away: +Far o'er the Downs, ye Gales that sweep, +The daring Oak that crowns the steep, + The roaring peal convey. + +The chiming notes of chearful Hounds, +Hark! how the hollow Dale resounds; + The sunny Hills how gay. +But where's the note, brave Dog, like thine? +Then urge the Steed, the chorus join, + 'Tis Ringwood leads the way. + + + +[Illustration] + + + LUCY: + + A Song. + + +Thy favourite Bird is soaring still: +My Lucy, haste thee o'er the dale; +The Stream's let loose, and from the Mill +All silent comes the balmy gale; + Yet, so lightly on its way, + Seems to whisper 'Holiday.' + +The pathway flowers that bending meet +And give the Meads their yellow hue, +The May-bush and the Meadow-sweet +Reserve their fragrance all for you. + Why then, Lucy, why delay? + Let us share the Holiday. + +Since there thy smiles, my charming Maid, +Are with unfeigned rapture seen, +To Beauty be the homage paid; +Come, claim the triumph of the Green. + Here's my hand, come, come away; + Share the merry Holiday. + +A promise too my Lucy made, +(And shall my heart its claim resign?) +That ere May-flowers again should fade, +Her heart and hand should both be mine. + Hark 'ye, Lucy, this is May; + Love shall crown our Holiday. + + + + WINTER SONG + +Dear Boy, throw that Icicle down, +And sweep this deep Snow from the door: +Old Winter comes on with a frown; +A terrible frown for the poor. +In a Season so rude and forlorn +How can age, how can infancy bear +The silent neglect and the scorn +Of those who have plenty to spare? + +Fresh broach'd is my Cask of old Ale, +Well-tim'd now the frost is set in; +Here's Job come to tell us a tale, +We'll make him at home to a pin. +While my Wife and I bask o'er the fire, +The roll of the Seasons will prove, +That Time may diminish desire, +But cannot extinguish true love. + +O the pleasures of neighbourly chat, +If you can but keep scandal away, +To learn what the world has been at, +And what the great Orators say; +Though the Wind through the crevices sing, +And Hail down the chimney rebound, +I'm happier than many a king +While the Bellows blow Bass to the sound. + +Abundance was never my lot: +But out of the trifle that's given, +That no curse may alight on my Cot, +I'll distribute the bounty of Heaven: +The fool and the slave gather wealth; +But if I add nought to my store, +Yet while I keep conscience in health, +I've a Mine that will never grow poor. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs, by +Robert Bloomfield + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RURAL TALES, BALLADS, AND SONGS *** + +***** This file should be named 9093.txt or 9093.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/0/9/9093/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Charles Bidwell and Distributed +Proofreaders + + +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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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs + +Author: Robert Bloomfield + +Release Date: October, 2005 [EBook #9093] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on September 4, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RURAL TALES, BALLADS, AND SONGS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Charles Bidwell and Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +RURAL TALES, BALLADS, AND SONGS: + + +By ROBERT BLOOMFIELD, + +Author of _The Farmers Boy_ + + +LONDON: +Printed for Vernor and Hood, Poultry; +and Longman and Rees, Paternoster-Row + +By T. Bensley, Bolt-court, Fleet-street. + +1802 + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The Poems here offered to the Public were chiefly written during the +interval between the concluding and the publishing of THE FARMER'S BOY, an +interval of nearly two years. The pieces of a later date are, _the Widow +to her Hour-Glass, the Fakenham Ghost, Walter and Jane_, &c. At the tune +of publishing the Farmer's Boy, circumstances occurred which rendered it +necessary to submit these Poems to the perusal of my Friends: under whose +approbation I now give them, with some confidence as to their moral merit, +to the judgment of the Public. And as they treat of village manners, and +rural scenes, it appears to me not ill-tim'd to avow, that I have hopes of +meeting in some degree the approbation of my Country. I was not prepar'd +for the decided, and I may surely say extraordinary attention which the +Public has shewn towards the Farmer's Boy: the consequence has been such +as my true friends will rejoice to hear; it has produc'd me many essential +blessings. And I feel peculiarly gratified in finding that a poor man in +England may assert the dignity of Virtue, and speak of the imperishable +beauties of Nature, and be heard, and heard, perhaps, with greater +attention for his being poor. + +Whoever thinks of me or my concerns, must necessarily indulge the pleasing +idea of gratitude, and join a thought of my first great friend Mr. LOFFT. +And on this head, I believe every reader, who has himself any feeling, +will judge rightly of mine: if otherwise, I would much rather he would lay +down this volume, and grasp hold of such fleeting pleasures as the world's +business may afford him. I speak not of that gentleman as a public +character, or as a scholar. Of the former I know but little, and of the +latter nothing. But I know from experience, and I glory in this fair +opportunity of saying it, that his private life is a lesson of morality; +his manners gentle, his heart sincere: and I regard it as one of the most +fortunate circumstances of my life, that my introduction to public notice +fell to so zealous and unwearied a friend.[Footnote: I dare not take to +myself a praise like this; and yet I was, perhaps, hardly at liberty to +disclaim what should be mine and the endeavour of every one to deserve. +This I can say, that I have reason to rejoice that Mr. _George Bloomfield_ +introduced the Farmer's Boy to me. C. L.] + +I have received many honourable testimonies of esteem from strangers; +letters without a name, but fill'd with the most cordial advice, and +almost a parental anxiety, for my safety under so great a share of public +applause. I beg to refer such friends to the great teacher Time: and hope +that he will hereafter give me my deserts, and no more. + +One piece in this collection will inform the reader of my most pleasing +visit to _Wakefield Lodge_: books, solitude, and objects entirely new, +brought pleasures which memory will always cherish. That noble and worthy +Family, and all my immediate and unknown Friends, will, I hope, believe +the sincerity of my thanks for all their numerous favours, and candidly +judge the Poems before them. + +R. BLOOMFIELD. +Sept. 29, 1801. + +P.S. Since affixing the above date, an event of much greater importance +than any to which I have been witness, has taken place, to the universal +joy (it is to be hoped) of every inhabitant of Europe. My portion of joy +shall be expressed while it is warm: and the reader will do sufficient +justice, if he only believes it to be sincere. + +October 10. + + + + +PEACE. + +Halt! ye Legions, sheathe your Steel: +Blood grows precious; shed no more: +Cease your toils; your wounds to heal +Lo! beams of Mercy reach the shore! +From Realms of everlasting light +The favour'd guest of Heaven is come: +Prostrate your Banners at the sight, +And bear the glorious tidings home. + +The plunging corpse with half-clos'd eyes, +No more shall stain th' unconscious brine; +Yon pendant gay, that streaming flies, +Around its idle Staff shall twine. +Behold! along th' etherial sky +Her beams o'er conquering Navies spread; +Peace! Peace! the leaping Sailors cry, +With shouts that might arouse the dead. + +Then forth Britannia's thunder pours; +A vast reiterated sound! +From Line to Line the Cannon roars, +And spreads the blazing joy around. +Return, ye brave! your Country calls; +Return; return, your task is done: +While here the tear of transport falls, +To grace your Laurels nobly won. + +Albion Cliffs--from age to age, +That bear the roaring storms of Heav'n, +Did ever fiercer Warfare rage? +Was ever Peace more timely given? +Wake! sounds of Joy: rouse, generous Isle; +Let every patriot bosom glow. +Beauty, resume thy wonted smile, +And, Poverty, thy cheerful brow. + +Boast, Britain, of thy glorious Guests; +Peace, Wealth, and Commerce, all thine own: +Still on contented Labour rests +The basis of a lasting Throne. +Shout, Poverty! 'tis Heaven that saves; +Protected Wealth, the chorus raise: +Ruler of War, of Winds, and Waves, +Accept a prostrate Nation's praise. + + + +ERRATA. + +Page 28, line 1, for _Mon_ read _Man_. + + 56, 13, for _thy_ read _my_. + + +CONTENTS. + +Richard and Kate: Ballad +Walter and Jane: a Tale +The Miller's Maid: a Tale +The Widow to her Hour-Glass +Market-Night: Ballad +The Fakenham Ghost: Ballad +The French Mariner: Ballad +Dolly: Ballad +A Visit to Whittlebury Forest +A Highland Drover: Song +A Word to Two Young Ladies +On hearing of the Translation of the Farmer's Boy +Nancy: Song +Rosy Hannah: Song +The Shepherd and his Dog Rover: Song +Hunting Song +Lucy: Song +Winter Song + + + + +[Illustration] + + RICHARD AND KATE: OR, FAIR-DAY. + + A Suffolk Ballad. + + +'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel, +Sweep up your orts, and get your Hat; +Old joys reviv'd once more I feel, +'Tis Fair-day;--ay, _and more than that._ + +_The Deliberation_. + +'Have you forgot, Kate, prithee say, +'How many Seasons here we've tarry'd? +'Tis _Forty_ years, this very day, +'Since you and I, old Girl, were _married_ + +'Look out;--the Sun shines warm and bright, +'The Stiles are low, the paths all dry; +'I know you cut your corns last night: +'Come; be as free from care as I. + +'For I'm resolv'd once more to see +'That place where we so often met; +'Though few have had more cares than we, +'We've none just now to make us fret.' + +Kate scorn'd to damp the generous flame +That warm'd her aged Partner's breast; +Yet, ere determination came, +She thus some trifling doubts express'd. + +_Difficulties--Consent_. + +'Night will come on; when seated snug, +'And you've perhaps begun some tale, +'Can you then leave your dear stone mug; +'Leave all the folks, and all the Ale?' + +'Ay, Kate, I wool;--because I know, +'Though time has been we both could run, +'Such days are gone and over now;-- +'I only mean to see the fun.' + +She straight slipp'd off the Wall and Band, [Terms used in spinning] +And laid aside her Lucks and Twitches: +And to the Hutch [a chest] she reach'd her hand, +And gave him out his Sunday Breeches. + +His Mattock he behind the door +And Hedging-gloves again replac'd; +And look'd across the yellow Moor, +And urg'd his tott'ring Spouse to haste. + +_The Walk to the Fair._ + +The day was up, the air serene, +The Firmament without a cloud; +The Bee humm'd o'er the level green +Where knots of trembling Cowslips bow'd. + +And RICHARD thus, with heart elate, +As past things rush'd across his mind, +Over his shoulder, talk'd to KATE, +Who snug tuckt up, walk'd slow behind. + +'When once a gigling Mawther you, +'And I a redfac'd chubby Boy, +'Sly tricks, you play'd me not a few; +'For mischief was your greatest joy. + +'Once, passing by this very Tree, +'A Gotch [pitcher] of Milk I'd been to fill, +'You shoulder'd me; then laugh'd to see +'Me and my Gotch spin down the Hill' + +_Discourse on past Days._ + +'Tis true,' she said; 'but here behold, +'And marvel at the course of Time; +'Though you and I are both grown old, +'This Tree is only in its prime!' + +'Well, Goody, don't stand preaching now; +'Folks don't preach Sermons at a FAIR: +'We've rear'd Ten _Boys_ and _Girls_ you know; +'And I'll be bound they'll all be there.' + +Now friendly nods and smiles had they, +From many a kind _Fair-going_ face: +And many a pinch KATE gave away; +While RICHARD kept his usual pace. + +At length arriv'd amidst the throng, +_Grand-children_ bawling hem'd them round; +And dragg'd them by the skirts along +Where gingerbread bestrew'd the ground. + +_The Arrival.--Country Sports._ + +And soon the aged couple spy'd +Their lusty _Sons_ and _Daughters_ dear: +When RICHARD thus exulting cried, +'Did'nt I tell you they'd be here?' + +The cordial greetings of the soul +Were visible in every face; +Affection, void of all controul, +Govern'd with a resistless grace. + +'Twas good to see the honest strife, +_Which_ should contribute most to please; +And hear the long-recounted life, +Of infant tricks, and happy days. + +But now, as at some nobler places, +Amongst the Leaders 'twas decreed +Time to begin the DICKY RACES; +More fam'd for laughter than for speed. + +_Recollections._ + +RICHARD look'd on with wond'rous glee, +And prais'd the Lad who ehanc'd to win; +'KATE, wan't I such a one as he? +'As like him, ay, as pin to pin? + +'Full _Fifty_ years are pass'd away +'Since I rode this same ground about: +'Lord! I was lively as the day! +'I won the High-lows out and out! + +'I'm surely growing young again: +'I feel myself so kedge and plump. +'From head to foot I've not one pain; +'Nay, hang me if I cou'd 'nt jump.' + +Thus spoke the ALE in RICHARD'S pate, +A very little made him mellow; +But still he lov'd his faithful KATE, +Who whisper'd thus, 'My good old fellow, + +_The Departure._ + +'Remember what you promis'd me: +'And see, the Sun is getting low; +'The Children want an hour ye see +'To talk a bit before we go.' + +Like youthful Lover most complying +He turn'd, and chuckt her by the chin: +Then all across the green grass hieing, +Right merry faces, all akin, + +Their farewell quart, beneath a +That droop'd its branches from above, +Awak'd the pure felicity +That waits upon PARENTAL LOVE. + +KATE view'd her blooming Daughters round, +And Sons, who shook her wither'd hand; +Her features spoke what joy she found; +But utterance had made a stand. + +_An old Man's Joy._ + +The Children toppled on the green, +And bowl'd their _fairings_ down the hill; +Richard with pride beheld the scene, +Nor could he for his life sit still. + +A Father's uncheck'd feelings gave +A tenderness to all he said; +'My Boys, how proud am I to have +'My name thus round the Country spread! + +'Through all my days I've labour'd hard, +'And could of pains and Crosses tell; +'But this is Labour's great reward, +'To meet ye thus, and see ye well. + +'My good old Partner, when at home, +'Sometimes with wishes mingles tears; +'Goody, says I, let what wool come, +'We've nothing for them but our pray'rs. + +_Old Man's Joy continued._ + +'May you be all as old as I, +'And see you? Sons to manhood grow; +'And, many a time before you die, +'Be just as pleas'd as I am now.' + +Then, (raising still his Mug and Voice,) +'An Old Man's weakness don't despise! +'I love you well, my Girls and Boys; +'GOD bless you all;'--so said his eyes---- + +For, as he spoke, a big round drop +Fell bounding on his ample sleeve; +A witness which he could not stop, +A witness which all hearts believe. + +Thou, FILIAL PIETY, wert there; +And round the ring, benignly bright, +Dwelt in the luscious half-shed tear, +And in the parting word--_Good Night_. + +_The Return home._ + +With thankful Hearts and strengthen'd Love, +The poor old PAIR, supremely blest, +Saw the Sun sink behind the grove, +And gain'd once more their lowly rest. + + + + [Illustration] + +WALTER AND JANE: or, THE POOR BLACKSMITH. + +_A Country Tale._ + +Bright was the summer sky, the Mornings gay, +And Jane was young and chearful as the Day. +Not yet to Love but Mirth she paid her vows; +And Echo mock'd her as she call'd her Cows. +Tufts of green Broom, that full in blossom vied, +And grac'd with spotted gold the upland side, +The level fogs o'erlook'd; too high to share; +So lovely JANE o'erlook'd the clouds of Care; + +_Jane._ + +No meadow-flow'r rose fresher to the view, +That met her morning footsteps in the dew; +Where, if a nodding stranger ey'd her charms, +The blush of innocence was up in arms, +Love's random glances struck the unguarded mind, +And Beauty's magic made him look behind. + Duly as morning blush'd or twilight came, +Secure of greeting smiles and Village fame, +She pass'd the Straw-roof'd Shed, in ranges where +Hung many a well-turn'd Shoe and glitt'ring _Share_; +Where WALTER, as the charmer tripp'd along, +Would stop his roaring Bellows and his Song.-- + Dawn of affection; Love's delicious sigh! +Caught from the lightnings of a speaking eye, +That leads the heart to rapture or to woe, +'Twas WALTER'S fate thy mad'ning power to know; +And scarce to know, ere in its infant twine, +As the Blast shakes the tendrils of the Vine, + +_The Separation._ + +The budding bliss that full of promise grew +The chilling blight of separation knew. +Scarce had he told his heart's unquiet case, +And JANE to shun him ceas'd to mend her pace, +And learnt to listen trembling as he spoke, +And fondly judge his words beyond a joke; +When, at the Goal that bounds our prospects here, +Jane's widow'd Mistress ended her career: +Blessings attended her divided store, +The Mansion sold, (Jane's peaceful home no more,) +A distant Village own'd her for its Queen, +Another service, and another scene; +But could another scene so pleasing prove, +Twelve weary miles from Walter and from Love? +The Maid grew thoughtful: yet to Fate resign'd, +Knew not the worth of what she left behind. + He, when at Eve releas'd from toil and heat, +Soon miss'd the smiles that taught his heart to beat, + +_The Lover's-Journey._ + +Each sabbath-day of late was wont to prove +Hope's liberal feast, the holiday of Love: +But now, upon his spirit's ebbing strength +Came each dull hour's intolerable length. +The next had scarcely dawn'd when Walter hied +O'er hill and dale, Affection for his guide: +O'er the brown Heath his pathless journey lay, +Where screaming Lapwings hail'd the op'ning day. +High rose the Sun, the anxious Lover sigh'd; +His slipp'ry soles bespoke the dew was dried: +Her last farewell hung fondly on his tongue +As o'er the tufted Furze elate he sprung; +Trifling impediments; his heart was light, +For Love and Beauty glow'd in fancy's sight; +And soon he gaz'd on Jane's enchanting face, +Renew'd his passion,--but, destroy'd his peace. +Truth, at whose shrine he bow'd, inflicted pain; +And Conscience whisper'd, '_Never come again_.' + +_Self-Denial._ + +For now, his tide of gladness to oppose, +A clay-cold damp of doubts and fears arose; +Clouds, which involve, midst Love and Reason's strife, +The poor man's prospect when he takes a wife. +Though gay his journeys in the Summer's prime, +Each seem'd the repetition of a crime; +He never left her but with many a sigh, +When tears stole down his face, she knew not why. +Severe his task those visits to forego, +And feed his heart with voluntary woe. +Yet this he did; the wan Moon circling found +His evenings cheerless, and his rest unsound; +And saw th' unquenched flame his bosom swell: +What were his doubts, thus let the Story tell + A month's sharp conflict only serv'd to prove +The pow'r, as well as truth, of Walter's love. +Absence more strongly on his mind portray'd +His own sweet, injur'd, unoffending Maid. + +_The renew'd Journey._ + +Once more he'd go; full resolute awhile, +But heard his native Bells on every stile; +The sound recall'd him with a pow'rful charm, +The Heath wide open'd, and the day was warm; +There, where a bed of tempting green he found, +Increasing anguish weigh'd him to the ground; +His well-grown limbs the scatter'd Daisies press'd, +While his clinch'd hand fell heavy on his breast. + 'Why do I go in cruel sport to say, +"I love thee, Jane; appoint the happy day?" +'Why seek her sweet ingenuous reply, +'Then grasp her hand and proffer--poverty? +'Why, if I love her and adore her name, +'Why act like time and sickness on her frame? +'Why should my scanty pittance nip her prime, +'And chace away the Rose before its time? +'I'm young, 'tis true; the world beholds me free; +'Labour ne'er show'd a frightful face to me; + +_Love of Prudence._ + +'Nature's first wants hard labour _should_ supply; +'But should it fail, 'twill be too late to fly. +'Some Summers hence, if nought our loves annoy, +'The image of my Jane may lisp her joy; +'Or, blooming boys with imitative swing +'May mock my arm, and make the Anvil ring; +'Then if in rags.--But, O my heart, forbear,-- +'I love the Girl, and why should I despair? +'And that I love her all the village knows; +'Oft from my pain the mirth of others flows; +'As when a neighbour's Steed with glancing eye +'Saw his par'd hoof supported on my thigh: +'Jane pass'd that instant; mischief came of course; +'I drove the nail awry and lam'd the Horse; +'The poor beast limp'd: I bore a Master's frown, +'A thousand times I wish'd the wound my own. +'When to these tangling thoughts I've been resign'd, +'Fury or languor has possess'd my mind, + +_Recollections_. + +'All eyes have stared, I've blown a blast so strong; +'Forgot to smite at all, or smote too long. +'If at the Ale-house door, with careless glee +'One drinks to Jane, and darts a look on me; +'I feel that blush which her dear name will bring, +'I feel:--but, guilty Love, 'tis not thy sting! +'Yet what are jeers? the bubbles of an hour; +'Jane knows what Love can do, and feels its pow'r; +'In her mild eye fair Truth her meaning tells; +'Tis not in looks like her's that falsehood dwells. +'As water shed upon a dusty way +'I've seen midst downward pebbles devious stray; +'If kindred drops an adverse channel keep, +'The crystal friends toward each other creep; +'Near, and still nearer, rolls each little tide, +'Th' expanding mirror swells on either side: +'They touch--'tis done--receding bound'ries fly, +'An instantaneous union strikes the eye: + +_The Interview._ + +'So 'tis with us: for Jane would be my bride; +'Shall coward fears then turn the bliss aside?' + While thus he spoke he heard a gentle sound, +That seem'd a jarring footstep on the ground: +Asham'd of grief, he bade his eyes unclose, +And shook with agitation as he rose; +All unprepared the sweet surprise to bear; +His heart beat high, for Jane herself was there.-- + Flusht was her cheek; she seem'd the full-blown flower, +For warmth gave loveliness a double power; +Round her fair brow the deep confusion ran, +A waving handkerchief became her fan, +Her lips, where dwelt sweet love and smiling ease, +Puff'd gently back the warm assailing breeze. +'I've travell'd all these weary miles with pain, +'To see my native village once again; +'And show my true regard for neighbour _Hind_; +'Not like you, Walter, _she_ was always kind.' + +_Resentment and Tenderness_. + +'Twas thus, each soft actuation laid aside, +She buoy'd her spirits up with maiden pride; +Disclaimed her love, e'en while she felt the sting; +'What, come for Walter's sake!' 'Twas no such thing. +But when astonishment his tongue releas'd, +Pride's usurpation in an instant ceas'd: +By force he caught her hand as passing by, +And gaz'd upon her half averted eye; +His heart's distraction, and his boding fears +She heard, and answer'd with a flood of tears; +Precious relief; sure friends that forward press +To tell the mind's unspeakable distress. +Ye Youths, whom crimson'd health and genuine fire +Bear joyous on the wings of young desire, +Ye, who still bow to Love's almighty sway, +What could true passion, what could Walter say? +Age, tell me true, nor shake your locks in vain, +Tread back your paths, and be in love again; + +_Visit to a Friend_. + +In your young days did such a favouring hour +Show you the littleness of wealth and pow'r? +Advent'rous climbers of the Mountain's brow; +While Love, their master, spreads his couch below-- +'My dearest Jane,' the untaught Walter cried, +As half repell'd he pleaded by her side; +'My dearest Jane, think of me as you may--' +Thus--still unutter'd what he strove to say, +They breath'd in sighs the anguish of their minds, +And took the path that led to neighbour _Hind's_. + +A secret joy the well-known roof inspir'd, +Small was its store, and little they desir'd; +Jane dried her tears; while Walter forward flew +To aid the Dame; who to the brink updrew +The pond'rous Bucket as they reach'd the well, +And scarcely with exhausted breath could tell +How welcome to her Cot the blooming Pair, +O'er whom she watch'd with a maternal care. + +_The Expostulation_. + +'What ails thee, Jane?' the wary Matron cried; +With heaving breast the modest Maid reply'd, +Now gently moving back her wooden Chair +To shun the current of the cooling air; +'Not much, good Dame; I'm weary by the way; +'Perhaps, anon, I've something else to say.' +Now, while the Seed-cake crumbled on her knee, +And Snowy Jasmine peeped in to see; +And the transparent Lilac at the door, +Full to the Sun its purple honors bore, +The clam'rous Hen her fearless brood display'd, +And march'd around; while thus the Matron said: +'Jane has been weeping, Walter;--prithee why? +'I've seen her laugh, and dance, but never cry. +'But I can guess; with _her_ you should have been, +'When late I saw you loit'ring on the green; +'I'm an old Woman, and the truth may tell: +I say then, Boy, you have not us'd her well.' + +_Pleadings of Experience for Love with extreme Prudence._ + +JANE felt for WALTER; felt his cruel pain, +While Pity's voice brought forth her tears again. +'Don't scold him, Neighbour, he has much to say, +'Indeed he came and met me by the way.' +The Dame resum'd--'Why then, my Children, why +'Do such young bosoms heave the piteous sigh? +'The ills of Life to you are yet unknown; +'Death's sev'ring shaft, and Poverty's cold frown: +'I've felt them both, by turns:--but as they pass'd, +'Strong was my trust, and here I am at last. +'When I dwelt young and cheerful down the _Lane_. +'(And, though I say it, I was much like JANE,) +'O'er flow'ry fields with _Hind_, I lov'd to stray, +'And talk, and laugh, and fool the time away: +'And Care defied; who not one pain could give, +'Till the thought came of how we were to live; +'And then Love plied his arrows thicker still: +'And prov'd victorious;--as he always will. + +_The Victory_. + +'We brav'd Life's storm together; while that Drone, +'Your poor old Uncle, WALTER, liv'd alone. +'He died the other day: when round his bed +'No tender soothing tear Affection shed-- +'Affection! 'twas a plant he never knew;-- +'Why should he feast on fruits he never grew?' + +WALTER caught fire: nor was _he_ charm'd alone +With conscious Truth's firm elevated tone; +JANE from her seat sprang forward, half afraid, +Attesting with a blush what Goody said. +Her Lover took a more decided part:-- +(O! 'twas the very Chord that touch'd his heart,)-- +Alive to the best feelings man can prize, +A Bridegroom's transport sparkled in his eyes; +Love, conquering power, with unrestricted range +Silenc'd the arguments of Time and Change; +And led his vot'ry on, and bade him view, +And prize the light-wing'd moments as they flew: + +_The Confession._ + +All doubts gave way, all retrospective lore, +Whence cooler Reason tortur'd him before; +Comparison of times, the Lab'rer's hire, +And many a truth Reflection might inspire, +Sunk powerless. 'Dame, I am a fool,' he cried; +'Alone I might have reason'd till I died. +'I caus'd those tears of Jane's:--but as they fell +'How much I felt none but ourselves can tell. +'While dastard fears withheld me from her sight; +'Sighs reign'd by day and hideous dreams by night; +''Twas then the Soldier's plume and rolling Drum +'Seem'd for a while to strike my sorrows dumb; +'To fly from Care then half resolv'd I stood, +'And without horror mus'd on fields of blood, +'But Hope prevail'd.--Be then the sword resign'd; +'And I'll make _Shares_ for those that stay behind, +'And you, sweet Girl,'------ +He would have added more, +Had not a glancing shadow at the door + +_Unexpected Visit._ + +Announc'd a guest, who bore with winning grace +His well-tim'd errand pictur'd in his face. +Around with silent reverence they stood; +A blameless reverence--the man was good. +Wealth he had some, a match for his desires, +First on the list of active Country 'Squires. +Seeing the youthful pair with downcast eyes, +Unmov'd by Summer-flowers and cloudless skies, +Pass slowly by his Gate; his book resign'd, +He watch'd their steps and follow'd far behind, +Bearing with inward joy, and honest pride, +A trust of WALTER'S kinsman ere he died, +A hard-earn'd mite, deposited with care, +And with a miser's spirit worshipt there. + He found what oft the generous bosom seeks, +In the Dame's court'seys and JANE'S blushing cheeks, +That consciousness of Worth, that freeborn Grace, +Which waits on Virtue in the meanest place. + +_The Difficulty remov'd_ + +'Young Mon, I'll not apologize to you, +'Nor name intrusion, for my news is true; +'Tis duty brings me here: your wants I've heard, +'And can relieve: yet be the dead rever'd. +'Here, in this Purse, (what should have cheer'd a Wife,) +'Lies, half the savings of your Uncle's life! +'I know your history, and your wishes know; +'And love to see the seeds of Virtue grow. +'I've a spare Shed that fronts the public road: +'Make that your Shop; I'll make it your abode. +'Thus much from me,--the rest is but your due.' +That instant twenty pieces sprung to view. +Goody, her dim eyes wiping, rais'd her brow, +And saw the young pair look they knew not how; +Perils and Power while humble minds forego, +Who gives them half a Kingdom gives them woe; +Comforts may be procur'd and want defied, +Heav'ns! with how small a Sum, when right applied! + +_How little of outward Good suffices for Happiness._ + +Give Love and honest Industry their way, +Clear but the Sun-rise of Life's little day, +Those we term poor shall oft that wealth obtain, +For which th' ambitious sigh, but sigh in vain: +Wealth that still brightens, as its stores increase; +The calm of Conscience, and the reign of Peace. + Walter's enamour'd Soul, from news like this, +Now felt the dawnings of his future bliss; +E'en as the Red-breast shelt'ring in a bower, +Mourns the short darkness of a passing Shower, +Then, while the azure sky extends around, +Darts on a worm that breaks the moisten'd ground, +And mounts the dripping fence, with joy elate, +And shares the prize triumphant with his mate; +So did the Youth;--the treasure straight became +An humble servant to Love's sacred flame; +Glorious subjection!--Thus his silence broke: +Joy gave him words; still quick'ning as he spoke. + +_Joy above Wealth_. + +'Want was my dread, my wishes were but few; +Others might doubt, but JANE those wishes knew: +This Gold may rid my heart of pains and sighs; +But her true love is still my greatest prize, +Long as I live, when this bright day comes round, +Beneath my Roof your noble deeds shall sound; +But, first, to make my gratitude appear, +I'll shoe your Honour's Horses for a Year; +If clouds should threaten when your Corn is down, +I'll lend a hand, and summon half the town; +If good betide, I'll sound it in my songs, +And be the first avenger of your wrongs: +Though rude in manners, free I hope to live: +This Ale's not mine, no Ale have I to give; +Yet, Sir, though Fortune frown'd when I was born, +Let's drink eternal friendship from this Horn. +How much our present joy to you we owe, +Soon our three Bells shall let the Neighbours know; + +_Grateful frankness_. + +'The sound shall raise e'en stooping Age awhile, +'And every Maid shall meet you with a smile; +'Long may you _live_'--the wish like lightning flew; +By each repeated as the 'Squire withdrew. +'Long may _you_ live,' his feeling heart rejoin'd; +Leaving well-pleas'd such happy Souls behind. +Hope promis'd fair to cheer them to the end; +With Love their guide, and Goody for their friend. + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE MILLER'S MAID. + + A Tale. + +Near the high road upon a winding stream +An honest Miller rose to Wealth and Fame: +The noblest Virtues cheer'd his lengthen'd days, +And all the Country echo'd with his praise: +His Wife, the Doctress of the neighb'ring Poor, +[Footnote: This village and the poor of this neighbourhood know what it is +to have possest such a blessing, and feel at this moment what it is to +lose it by death. C.L. +_Troston_, 13th of September, 1801.] +Drew constant pray'rs and blessings round his door. + +_The Tempest_. + +One Summer's night, (the hour of rest was come) +Darkness unusual overspread their home; +A chilling blast was felt; the foremost cloud +Sprinkl'd the bubbling Pool; and thunder loud, +Though distant yet, menac'd the country round, +And fill'd the Heavens with its solemn sound. +Who can retire to rest when tempests lour? +Nor wait the issue of the coming hour? +Meekly resign'd she sat, in anxious pain; +He fill'd his pipe, and listen'd to the rain +That batter'd furiously their strong abode, +Roar'd in the Damm, and lash'd the pebbled road: +When, mingling with the storm, confus'd and wild, +They heard, or thought they heard, a screaming _Child_: +The voice approach'd; and midst the thunder's roar, +Now loudly begg'd for Mercy at the door. + + MERCY was _there_: the Miller heard the call; +His door he open'd; when a sudden squall + +_The Young Stranger_. + +Drove in a wretched Girl; who weeping stood, +Whilst the cold rain dripp'd from her in a flood. +With kind officiousness the tender Dame +Rous'd up the dying embers to a flame; +Dry cloaths procur'd, and cheer'd her shiv'ring guest, +And sooth'd the sorrows of her infant breast. +But as she stript her shoulders, lily-white, +What marks of cruel usage shock'd their sight! +Weals, and blue wounds, most piteous to behold +Upon a Child yet scarcely Ten years old. + The _Miller_ felt his indignation rise, +Yet, as the weary stranger clos'd her eyes, +And seem'd fatigu'd beyond her strength and years, +'Sleep, Child,' he said, 'and wipe away your tears.' +They watch'd her slumbers till the storm was done; +When thus the generous Man again begun: +'See, fluttering sighs that rise against her will, +And agitating dreams disturb her still! + +_The Simple Story_. + +'Dame, we should know before we go to rest, +'Whence comes this Girl, and how she came distrest. +'Wake her, and ask; for she is sorely bruis'd: +'I long to know by whom she's thus misus'd. + + 'Child, what's your name? how came you in the storm? +'Have you no home to keep you dry and warm? +'Who gave you all those wounds your shoulders show? +'Where are your Parents? Whither would you go? + + The Stranger bursting into tears, look'd pale, +And this the purport of her artless tale. +'I have no Parents; and no friends beside: +'I well remember when my Mother died: +'My Brother cried; and so did I that day: +'We had no Father;--he was gone away; +'That night we left our home new cloaths to wear: +'The _Work-house_ found them; we were carried there. +'We lov'd each other dearly; when we met +'We always shar'd what trifles we could get. + +_Rustic Hospitality and Protection of the friendless_. + +But _George_ was older by a year than me:-- +He parted from me and was sent to Sea. +"Good-bye, dear Phoebe," the poor fellow said! +Perhaps he'll come again; perhaps he's dead. +When I grew strong enough I went to place, +My Mistress had a sour ill-natured face; +And though I've been so often beat and chid, +I strove to please her, Sir: indeed, I did. +Weary and spiritless to bed I crept, +And always cried at night before I slept. +This Morning I offended; and I bore +A cruel beating, worse than all before. +Unknown to all the House I ran away; +And thus far travell'd through the sultry day; +And, O don't send me back! I dare not go.'-- +'I send you back!' the Miller cried, 'no, no.' +Th' appeals of Wretchedness had weight with him, +And Sympathy would warm him every limb; + +_The Child becomes one of the Family_. + +He mutter'd, glorying in the work begun, +'Well done, my little Wench; 'twas nobly done!' +Then said, with looks more cheering than the fire, +And feelings such as Pity can inspire, +'My house has childless been this many a year; +While you deserve it you shall tarry here.' +The Orphan mark'd the ardor of his eye, +Blest his kind words, and thank'd him with a sigh. + +Thus was the sacred compact doubly seal'd; +Thus were her spirits rais'd, her bruises heal'd: +Thankful, and cheerful too, no more afraid, +Thus little PHOEBE was the Miller's Maid. +Grateful they found her; patient of controul: +A most bewitching gentleness of soul +Made pleasure of what work she had to do: +She grew in stature, and in beauty too. + +Five years she pass'd in this delightful home; +Five happy years: but, when the sixth was come, + +_The New Comer_. + +The _Miller_ from a Market Town hard by, +Brought home a sturdy Youth his strength to try, +To raise the sluice-gates early every morn, +To heave his powder'd sacks and grind his corn: +And meeting _Phoebe_, whom he lov'd so dear, +'I've brought you home a Husband, Girl?--D'ye hear? +He begg'd for work; his money seem'd but scant: +Those that will work 'tis pity they should want. +So use him well, and we shall shortly see +Whether he merits what I've done, like thee.' + +Now throbb'd her heart,--a new sensation +Whene'er the comely Stranger was in right: +For he at once assiduously strove. +To please so sweet a Maid, and win her love. +At every corner stopp'd her in her way; +And saw fresh beauties opening ev'ry day; +He took delight in tracing in her face +The mantling blush, and every nameless grace, + +[Footnote: A Maxim which all ought to remember. C.L.] + +_First Impressions_. + +That Sensibility would bring to view, +When Love he mention'd;---Love, and Honour true, +But _Phoebe_ still was shy; and wish'd to know +More of the honest Youth, whose manly brow +She verily believ'd was Truth's own throne, +And all his words as artless as her own; +Most true she judg'd; yet, long the Youth forbore +Divulging where, and how, he liv'd before; +And seem'd to strive his History to hide, +Till fair Esteem enlisted on his side. +The _Miller_ saw, and mention'd, in his prajse, +The prompt fidelity of all his ways; +Till in a vacant hour, the Dinner done, +One day he jokjng cried, 'Come here, my Son! +'Tis pity that so good a Lad as you +Beneath my roof should bring disorders new! +But here's my _Phoebe_,--once so light and airy, +She'd trip along the passage like a Fairy,-- + +_Enquiry. Ingenuous Explanation_. + +Has lost her swiftness quite, since here you came:-- +And yet;... I can't perceive the Girl is lame! +The obstacles she meets with still fall thicker: +Old as I am I'd turn a corner quicker.'-- +The _Youth_ blush'd deep; and _Phoebe_ hung her head: +The _good Man_ smil'd, and thus again he said: + +'Not that I deem it matter of surprise, +That you should love to gaze at _Phoebe's_ eyes; +But be explicit, Boy; and deal with honour: +I feel my happiness depend upon her. +When here you came you'd sorrow on your brow; +And I've forborne to question you till now. +First, then, say what thou art.' He instant bow'd, +And thus, in _Phoebe's_ hearing, spoke aloud: + +'Thus far experienc'd, Sir, in you I find +All that is generous, fatherly, and kind; +And while you look for proofs of real worth, +You'll not regard the meanness of my birth. + +_The little History_. + +When, pennyless and sad, you met with me, +I'd just escap'd the dangers of the Sea; +Resolv'd to try my fortune on the shore: +To get my bread; and trust the waves no more. +Having no Home, nor Parents, left behind, +I'd all my fortune, all my Friends, to find. +Keen disappointment wounded me that morn: +For, trav'ling near the spot where I was born, +I at the well-known door where I was bred, +Inquir'd who still was living, who was dead: +But first, and most, I sought with anxious fear +Tidings to gain of her who once was dear; +A Girl, with all the meekness of the dove, +The constant sharer of my childhood's love; +She call'd me _Brother_:--which I heard with pride, +Though now suspect we are not so allied. +Thus much I learnt; (no more the churls would say;) +She went to service, and she ran away. + +_The Recognition_. + +'And scandal added'----'Hold!' the _Miller_ cried, +And, in an instant, stood at _Phoebe's_ side; +For he observed, while list'ning to the tale, +Her spirits faulter'd, and her cheeks turn'd pale; +Whilst her clasp'd hands descended to her knee +She sinking whisper'd forth, 'O _God_, 'tis _he_! +The good Man, though he guess'd the pleasing truth, +Was far too busy to inform the Youth; +But stirr'd himself amain to aid his Wife, +Who soon restor'd the trembler back to life. +Awhile insensible she still appear'd; +But, '_O my Brother!_' was distinctly heard: +The astonisht Youth now held her to his breast; +And tears and kisses soon explain'd the rest. + +Past deeds now from each tongue alternate fell; +For news of dearest import both could tell. +Fondly, from childhood's tears to youth's full prime, +They match'd the incidents of jogging time; + +_ Mutual Recollections_. + +And prov'd, that when with Tyranny opprest, +Poor _Phoebe_ groan'd with wounds and broken rest, +_George_ felt no less: was harassed and forlorn; +A rope's-end follow'd him both night and morn. +Andin that very storm when _Phoebe_ fled, +When the rain drench'd her yet unshelter'd head; +That very Storm he on the Ocean brav'd, +The Vessel founder'd, and the Boy was say'd! +Mysterious Heaven!--and O with what delight-- +She told the happy issue of her flight: +To his charm'd heart a living picture drew; +And gave to hospitality its due! +The list'ning Host observ'd the gentle Pair; +And ponder'd on the means that brought them there: +Convinc'd, while unimpeach'd their Virtue stood, +Twas _Heav'n's_ high Will that he should do them good. + +But now the anxious Dame, impatient grown, +Demanded what the Youth had heard, or known, + +_The Investigation_. + +Whereon to ground those doubts but just exprest;-- +Doubts, which must interest the feeling breast: +'Her Brother wert thou, George?--how; prithee say: +Canst thou forego, or cast that name away?' + +'No living proofs have I,' the Youth reply'd, +That we by closest ties are not allied; +But in my memory live, and ever will, +A mother's dying words......I hear them still: +She said, to one who watch'd her parting breath, +"Don't separate the Children at my death; +They're not both mine: but--" Here the scene was clos'd; +She died, and left us helpless and expos'd; +Nor Time hath thrown, nor Reason's opening power, +One friendly ray on that benighted hour.' + +Ne'er did the Chieftains of a Warring State +Hear from the _Oracle_ their half-told fate +With more religious fear, or more suspense, +Than _Phoebe_ now endur'd:--for every sense + +_The Perplexity_. + +Became absorb'd in this unwelcome theme; +Nay every meditation, every dream, +Th'inexplicable sentence held to view, +'They're not both mine,' was every morning new: +For, till this hour, the Maid had never prov'd +How far she was enthrall'd, how much she lov'd: +In that fond character he first appear'd; +His kindness charm'd her, and his smiles endear'd: +This dubious mystery the passion crost; +Her peace was wounded, and her Lover lost. +For _George_, with all his resolution strove +To check the progress of his growing love; +Or, if he e'er indulg'd a tender kiss, +Th'unravell'd secret robb'd him of his bliss. +Health's foe, Suspense, so irksome to be borne, +An ever-piercing and retreating thorn, +Hung on their Hearts, when Nature bade them rise, +And stole Content's bright ensign from their eyes. + +_Anxiety. The Enquiry suggested_. + + The good folks saw the change, and griev'd to find +These troubles labouring in _Phoebe's_ mind; +They lov'd them both; and with one voice propos'd +The only means whence _Truth_ might be disclos'd; +That, when the Summer Months should shrink the rill, +And scarce its languid stream would turn the Mill, +When the Spring broods, and Pigs, and Lambs were rear'd, +(A time when _George_ and _Phoebe_ might be spar'd,) +Their birth-place they should visit once again, +To try with joint endeavours to obtain +From Record, or Tradition, what might be +To chain, or set their chain'd affections free: +Affinity beyond all doubts to prove; +Or clear the road for Nature and for Love. + Never, till now, did PHOEBE count the hours, +Or think _May_ long, or wish away its flowers; +With mutual sighs both fann'd the wings of Time; +As we climb Hills and gladden as we climb, + +_Eager Expectation_. + +And reach at last the distant promis'd seat, +Casting the glowing landscape at our feet +Oft had the Morning Rose with dew been wet, +And oft the journeying Sun in glory set, +Beyond the willow'd meads of vigorous grass, +The steep green hill, and woods they were to pass; +When now: the day arriv'd: Impatience reign'd; +And GEORGE,--by trifling obstacles detain'd-- +His bending Blackthorn on the threshold prest, +Survey'd the windward clouds, and hop'd the best. +PHOEBE, attir'd with every modest grace, +While Health and Beauty revell'd in her face, +Came forth; but soon evinc'd an absent mind, +For, back she turn'd for something left behind; +Again the same, till George grew tir'd of home, +And peevishly exclaim'd, _'Come, Phoebe, come.'_ +Another hindrance yet he had to feel: +As from the door they tripp'd with nimble heel, + +_The Old Soldier_. + +A poor old Man, foot-founder'd and alone, +Thus urgent spoke, in Trouble's genuine tone: +'My pretty Maid, if happiness you seek, +May disappointment never fade your cheek!-- +Your's be the joy;--yet, feel another's woe; +O leave some little, gift before you go.' +His words struck home; and back she turn'd again, +(The ready friend of indigence and pain,) +To banish hunger from his shatter'd frame; +And close behind her, lo, the _Miller_, came, +With Jug in hand, and cried, 'GEORGE, why such haste? +Here, take a draught; and let that _Soldier_ taste.' +'Thanks for your bounty, Sir,' the _Veteran_ said; +Threw down his Wallet, and made bare his head; +And straight began, though mix'd with doubts and fears, +Th' unprefac'd History of his latter years, +'I cross'd th' _Atlantic_ with our Regiment, brave, +Where Sickness sweeps whole Regiments to the grave; + +_The Surprise_. + +Yet I've escap'd; and bear my arms no more; +My age discharg'd me when I came on shore. +My Wife, I've heard,'--and here he wip'd his eyes,--- +'In the cold corner of the Church-yard lies. +By her consent it was I left my home: +Employment fail'd, and poverty waa come; +The Bounty tempted me;--she had it all: +We parted; and I've seen my betters fall. +Yet, as I'm spar'd, though in this piteous case, +I'm tray'ling homeward to my native place; +Though should I reach that dear remember'd spot, +Perhaps OLD GRAINGER will be quite forgot.' + +All eyes beheld young _George_ with wonder start: +Strong were the secret bodings of his heart; +Yet not indulg'd: for he with doubts survey'd +By turns the Stranger, and the lovely Maid. +'Had you no Children?'--'Yes, young Man; I'd two: +A _Boy_, if still he lives, as old as you: + +_The Discovery_. + +Yet not my own; but likely so to prove; +Though but the pledge of an unlawful Love: +I cherish'd him, to hide a _Sister's_ shame: +He shar'd my best affections, and my name. +But why, young folks, should I detain you here? +Go; and may blessings wait upon your cheer: +I too will travel on;--perhaps to find +The only treasure that I left behind. +Such kindly thoughts my fainting hopes revive!-- +_Phoebe_, my Cherub, ART _thou_ still alive?' + +Could Nature hold!--Could youthful Love forbear! +_George_ clasp'd the wond'ring _Maid_, and whisper'd, '_There_! +_You're mine for, ever_!--O, sustain the rest; +And hush the tumult of your throbbing breast.' +Then to the _Soldier_ turn'd, with manly pride, +And fondly led his long-intended _Bride_: +'Here see your _Child_; nor wish a sweeter flow'r. +'Tis _George_ that speaks; thou'lt bless the happy hour!-- + +_The Bliss of disinterested Benevolence_. + +Nay, be compos'd; for all will yet be well, +Though here our history's too long to tell'-- + +A long-lost Father found, the mystery clear'd, +What mingled transports in _her_ face appear'd! +The gazing _Veteran_ stood with hands uprais'd-- +'Art thou _indeed_ my Child! then, God be prais'd.' +O'er his rough cheeks the tears profusely spread: +Such as fools say become not Men to shed; +Past hours of bliss, regenerated charms, +Rose, when he felt his Daughter in his arms: +So tender was the scene, the generous Dame +Wept, as she told of _Phoebe's_ virtuous fame, +And the good Host, with gestures passing strange, +Abstracted seem'd through fields of joy to range: +Rejoicing that his favour'd Roof should prove +Virtue's asylum, and the nurse of Love; +Rejoicing that to him the task was given, +his full Soul was mounting up to Heav'n. + +_The Adopted Daughter_. + +But now, as from a dream, his Reason sprung, +And heartiest greetings dwelt upon his tongue; +The sounding Kitchen floor at once receiv'd +The happy group, with all their fears reliev'd: +'Soldier,' he cried, 'you've found your Girl; 'tis true: +But suffer _me_ to be a Father too; +For, never Child that blest a Parent's knee, +Could show more duty than she has to met +Strangely she came; Affliction chas'd her hard: +I pitied her;--and this is my reward! +Here sit you down; recount your perils o'er: +Henceforth be this your home; and grieve no more: +Plenty hath shower'd her dewdrops on my head; +Care visits not my Table, nor my Bed. +My heart's warm wishes thus then I fulfill:-- +My Dame and I can live without the Mill: +_George_, take the whole; I'll near you still remain +To guide your judgment in the choice of Grain: + +_Perfect Content: hopes and prospects of Goodness_. + +In Virtue's path commence your prosperous life; +And from my hand receive your worthy Wife. +Rise, _Phoebe_; rise, my Girl!--kneel not to me; +But to THAT POW'R who interpos'd for thee. +Integrity hath mark'd your favourite Youth; +Fair budding Honour, Constancy, and Truth: +Go to his arms;--and may unsullied joys +Bring smiling round me, rosy Girls and Boys! +I'll love them for thy sake. And may your days +Glide on, as glides the Stream that never stays; +Bright as whose shingled bed, till life's decline, +May all your Worth, and all your Virtues shine!' + + + +[Illustration] + + THE WIDOW TO HER HOUR-GLASS. + +Come, friend, I'll turn thee up again: +Companion of the lonely hour! +Spring thirty times hath fed with rain +And cloath'd with leaves my humble bower, + Since thou hast stood + In frame of wood, +On Chest or Window by my side: +At every Birth still thou wert near, +Still spoke thine admonitions clear.-- + And, when my Husband died, + +I've often watch'd thy streaming sand +And seen the growing Mountain rise, +And often found Life's hopes to stand +On props as weak in Wisdom's eyes: + Its conic crown + Still sliding down, +Again heap'd up, then down again; +The sand above more hollow grew, +Like days and years still filt'ring through, + And mingling joy and pain. + +While thus I spin and sometimes sing, +(For now and then my heart will glow) +Thou measur'st Time's expanding wing +By thee the noontide hour I know: + Though silent thou, + Still shalt thou flow, +And jog along thy destin'd way: +But when I glean the sultry fields, +When Earth her yellow Harvest yields, + Thou get'st a Holiday. + +Steady as Truth, on either end +Thy daily task performing well, +Thou'rt Meditation's constant friend, +And strik'st the Heart without a Bell: + Come, lovely May! + Thy lengthen'd day +Shall gild once more thy native plain; +Curl inward here, sweet Woodbine flow'r;-- +'Companion of the lonely hour, + 'I'll turn thee up again. + + + +[Illustration] + + + MARKET-NIGHT. + +'O Winds, howl not so long and loud; +Nor with your vengeance arm the snow: +Bear hence each heavy-loaded cloud; +And let the twinkling Star-beams glow. + +'Now sweeping floods rush down the slope, +Wide scattering ruin.--Stars, shine soon! +No other light my Love can hope; +Midnight will want the joyous _Moon_. + +'O guardian Spirits!--Ye that dwell +Where woods, and pits, and hollow ways, +The lone night-trav'ler's fancy swell +With fearful tales, of older days,-- + +'Press round him:--guide his willing steed +Through darkness, dangers, currents, snows; +Wait where, from shelt'ring thickets freed, +The dreary Heath's rude whirlwind blows. + +'From darkness rushing o'er his way, +The Thorn's white load it bears on high! +Where the short furze all shrouded lay, +Mounts the dried grass;--Earth's bosom dry. + +'Then o'er the Hill with furious sweep +It rends the elevated tree-- +Sure-footed beast, thy road thou'lt keep; +Nor storm nor darkness startles thee! + +'O blest assurance, (trusty steed,) +To thee the buried road is known; +_Home_, all the spur thy footsteps need, +When loose the frozen rein is thrown, + +'Between the roaring blasts that shake +The naked Elder at the door, +Though not one prattler to me speak, +Their sleeping sighs delight me more. + +'Sound is their rest:--they little know +What pain, what cold, their Father feels; +But dream, perhaps, they see him now, +While each the promis'd Orange peels. + +Would it were so!--the fire burns bright, +And on the warming trencher gleams; +In Expectation's raptur'd sight +How precious his arrival seems! + +'I'll look abroad!--'tis piercing cold!-- +How the bleak wind assails his breast! +Yet some faint light mine eyes, behold: +The storm is verging o'er the West. + +'There shines a _Star!_--O welcome sight!-- +Through the thin vapours brightening still! +Yet, 'twas beneath the fairest night +The murd'rer stained yon lonely Hill. + +'Mercy, kind Heav'n! such thoughts dispel! +No voice, no footstep can I hear! +(Where Night and Silence brooding dwell, +Spreads thy cold reign, heart-chilling Fear.) + +'Distressing hour! uncertain fate! +O Mercy, Mercy, guide him home!-- +Hark!--then I heard the distant gate;-- +Repeat it, Echo; quickly, come! + +'One minute now will ease my fears-- +Or, still more wretched must I be? +No: surely Heaven has spar'd our tears: +I see him, cloath'd in snow;--'_tis_ he.-- + +'Where have you stay'd? put down your load. +How have you borne the storm, the cold? +What horrors did I not forebode-- +That Beast is worth his weight in gold.' + +Thus spoke the joyful Wife;--then ran +And hid in grateful steams her head: +Dapple was hous'd, the hungry Man +With joy glanc'd o'er the Children's bed. + +'What, all asleep!--so best;' he cried: +O what a night I've travell'd through! +Unseen, unheard, I might have died; +But Heaven has brought me safe to you. + +'Dear Partner of my nights and days, +That smile becomes thee!--Let us then +Learn, though mishap may cross our ways, +It is not ours to reckon when.' + + + +THE FAKENHAM GHOST. + +A Ballad. + +The Lawns were dry in Euston Park; + (Here Truth [1] inspires my Tale) +The lonely footpath, still and dark, + Led over Hill and Dale. + +[Footnote 1: This Ballad is founded on a fact. The circumstance occurred +perhaps long before I was born: but is still related by my Mother, and +some of the oldest inhabitants in that part of the country. R.B.] + +Benighted was an ancient Dame, + And fearful haste she made +To gain the vale of Fakenham, + And hail its Willow shade. + +Her footsteps knew no idle stops, + But follow'd faster still; +And echo'd to the darksome Copse + That whisper'd on the Hill; + +Where clam'rous Rooks, yet scarcely hush'd, + Bespoke a peopled shade; +And many a wing the foliage brush'd, + And hov'ring circuits made. + +The dappled herd of grazing Deer + That sought the Shades by day, +Now started from her path with fear, + And gave the Stranger way. + +Darker it grew; and darker fears + Came o'er her troubled mind; +When now, a short quick step she hears + Come patting close behind. + +She turn'd; it stopt;--nought could she see + Upon the gloomy plain! +But, as she strove the Sprite to flee, + She heard the same again. + +Now terror seiz'd her quaking frame; + For, where the path was bare, +The trotting Ghost kept on the same! + She mutter'd many a pray'r. + +Yet once again, amidst her fright + She tried what sight could do; +When through the cheating glooms of night, + A MONSTER stood in view. + +Regardless of whate'er she felt, + It follow'd down the plain! +She own'd her sins, and down she knelt, + And said her pray'rs again. + +Then on she sped: and Hope grew strong, + The white park gate in view; +Which pushing hard, so long it swung + That _Ghost_ and all pass'd through. + +Loud fell the gate against the post! + Her heart-strings like to crack: +For, much she fear'd the grisly Ghost + Would leap upon her back. + +Still on, pat, pat, the Goblin went, + As it had done before:-- +Her strength and resolution spent, + She fainted at the door. + +Out came her Husband much surpris'd: + Out came her Daughter dear: +Good-natur'd Souls! all unadvis'd + Of what they had to fear. + +The Candle's gleam pierc'd through the night, + Some short space o'er the green; +And there the little trotting Sprite + Distinctly might be seen. + +An _Ass's Foal_ had lost its Dam + Within the spacious Park; +And simple as the playful Lamb + Had follow'd in the dark. + +No Goblin he; no imp of sin: + No crimes had ever known. +They took the shaggy stranger in, + And rear'd him as their own. + +His little hoofs would rattle round + Upon the Cottage floor: +The Matron learn'd to love the sound + That frighten'd her before. + +A favorite the Ghost became; + And, 'twas his fate to thrive: +And long he liv'd and spread his fame, + And kept the joke alive. + +For many a laugh went through the Vale; + And some conviction tod:-- +Each thought some other Goblin + Perhaps, was just as true. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + THE FRENCH MARINER. + + A Ballad. + +An Old _French Mariner_ am I, +Whom Time hath render'd poor and gray; +Hear, conquering _Britons_, ere I die, +What anguish prompts me thus to say. + +I've rode o'er many a dreadful wave, +I've seen the reeking blood descend: +I've heard the last groans of the brave;-- +The shipmate dear, the steady Friend. + +'Twas when _De Grasse_ the battle join'd +And struck, on _April's_ fatal morn: +I left three smiling boys behind, +And saw my Country's Lily torn. + +There, as I brav'd the storms of Fate, +Dead in my arms my Brother fell; +Here sits forlorn his widow'd Mate, +Who weeps whene'er the tale I tell. + +Thy reign, sweet Peace, was o'er too soon; +War, piecemeal, robs me of my joy: +For, on the bloodstain'd _first_ of _June_ +Death took my _eldest_ favorite Boy. + +The other two enrag'd arose; +'Our Country claims our lives,' they said. +With them I lost my Soul's repose; +That fatal hour my last hope fled. + +With BRUYES the proud NILE they sought; +Where one in ling'ring wounds expir'd; +While yet the other bravely fought +The Orient's magazine was fir'd. + +And must I mourn my Country's shame? +And envious curse the conquering Foe? +No more I feel that thirst of Fame;--All +I can feel is private woe. + +E'en all the joy that Vict'ry brings, +(Her bellowing Guns, and flaming pride) +Cold, momentary comfort flings +Around where weeping Friends reside. + +Whose blighted bud no Sun shall cheer, +Whose Lamp of Life no longer shine: +Some Parent, Brother, Child, most dear, +Who ventur'd, and who died like mine. + +Proud crested Fiend, the World's worst foe, +Ambition, canst thou boast one deed, +Whence no unsightly horrors flow, +Nor private peace is seen to bleed? + +Ah! why do these old Eyes remain +To see succeeding mornings rise! +My Wife is dead, my Children slain. +And Poverty is all my prize. + +Yet shall not poor enfeebled Age +Breathe forth revenge;--but rather say +O God, who seest the Battle's rage, +Take from men's hearts that rage away. + +From the vindictive tongue of strife +Bid Hatred and false Glory See; +That babes may meet advancing life, +Nor feel the woes that light on me. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + DOLLY + + +_"Ingenuous trust, and confidence of Love."_ + + +The Bat began with giddy wing +His circuit round the Shed, the Tree; +And clouds of dancing Gnats to sing +A summer-night's serenity. + +Darkness crept slowly o'er the East! +Upon the Barn-roof watch'd the Cat; +Sweet breath'd the ruminating Beast +At rest where DOLLY musing sat. + +A simple Maid, who could employ +The silent lapse of Evening mild, +And lov'd its solitary joy; +For Dolly was Reflection's child. + +He who had pledg'd his word to be +Her life's dear guardian, far away, +The flow'r of Yeoman Cavalry, +Bestrode a Steed with trappings gay. + +And thus from memory's treasur'd sweets, +And thus from Love's pure fount she drew +That peace, which busy care defeats, +And bids our pleasures bloom anew. + +Six weeks of absence have I borne +Since HENRY took his fond farewell: +The charms of that delightful morn +My tongue could thus for ever tell. + +He at my Window whistling loud, +Arous'd my lightsome heart to go: +Day, conqu'ring climb'd from cloud to cloud; +The fields all wore a purple glow. + +We stroll'd the bordering flow'rs among: +One hand the Bridle held behind; +The other round my waist was flung: +Sure never Youth spoke half so kind! + +The rising Lark I could but hear; +And jocund seem'd the song to be: +But sweeter sounded in my ear, +'Will _Dolly_ still be true to me!' + +From the rude Dock my skirt had swept +A fringe of clinging burrs so green; +Like them our hearts still closer crept, +And hook'd a thousand holds unseen. + +High o'er the road each branching bough +Its globes of silent dew had shed; +And on the pure-wash'd sand below +The dimpling drops around had spread. + +The sweet-brier op'd its pink-ey'd rose, +And gave its fragrance to the gale; +Though modest flow'rs may sweets disclose; +More sweet was HENRY'S earnest tale. + +He seem'd, methought, on that dear morn, +To pour out all his heart to me; +As if, the separation borne, +The coming hours would joyless be, + +A bank rose high beside the way, +And full against the Morning Sun; +Of heay'nly blue there Violets gay +His hand invited one by. + +The posy with a smile he gave; +I saw his meaning in his eyes: +The withered treasure still I have; +My bosom holds the fragrant prize. + +With his last kiss he would have vow'd; +But blessings crouding forc'd their way: +Then mounted he his Courser proud; +His time elaps'd, he could not stay. + +Then first I felt the parting pang;-- +Sure the worst pang the Lover feels! +His Horse unruly from me sprang, +The pebbles flew beneath his heels; + +Then down the road his vigour tried, +His rider gazing, gazing still; +_'My dearest, I'll be true_,' he cried:-- +And, if he lives, I'm sure he will. + +Then haste, ye hours, haste, Eve and Morn, +Yet strew your blessings round my home: +Ere Winter's blasts shall strip the thorn +My promis'd joy, my love, will come. + + + + + LINES OCCASIONED BY A VISIT TO WHITTLEBURY FOREST, + + NORTHAMPTONSHIRE, IN AUGUST, 1800. + + ADDRESSED TO MY CHILDREN. + + +Genius of the Forest Shades! +Lend thy pow'r, and lend thine ear! +A Stranger trod thy lonely glades, +Amidst thy dark and bounding Deer; +Inquiring Childhood claims the verse, +O let them not inquire in vain; +Be with me while I thus rehearse +The glories of thy Sylvan Reign. + +Thy Dells by wint'ry currents worn, +Secluded haunts, how dear to me! +From all but Nature's converse borne, +No ear to hear, no eye to see. +Their honour'd leaves the green Oaks rear'd, +And crown'd the upland's graceful swell; +While answering through the vale was heard +Each distant Heifer's tinkling bell. + +Hail, Greenwood shades, that stretching far, +Defy e'en Summer's noontide pow'r, +When August in his burning Car +Withholds the Cloud, withholds the Show'r. +The deep-ton'd Low from either Hill, +Down hazel aisles and arches green, +(The Herd's rude tracks from rill to rill) +Roar'd echoing through the solemn scene. + +From my charm'd heart the numbers sprung, +Though Birds had ceas'd the choral lay: +I pour'd wild raptures from my tongue, +And gave delicious tears their way. +Then, darker shadows seeking still, +Where human foot had seldom stray'd, +I read aloud to every Hill +Sweet Emma's Love, 'the Nut-brown Maid.' + +Shaking his matted mane on high +The gazing Colt would raise his head; +Or, tim'rous Doe would rushing fly, +And leave to me her grassy bed: +Where, as the azure sky appear'd +Through Bow'rs of every varying form, +Midst the deep gloom methought I heard +The daring progress of the storm. + +How would each sweeping pond'rous bough +Resist, when straight the Whirlwind cleaves, +Dashing in strength'ning eddies through +A roaring wilderness of leaves! +How would the prone descending show'r +From the green Canopy rebound! +How would the lowland torrents pour! +How deep the pealing thunder sound! + +But Peace was there: no lightnings blaz'd:-- +No clouds obscur'd the face of Heav'n: +Down each green op'ning while I gaz'd, +My thoughts to home, and you, were giv'n. +O tender minds! in life's gay morn +Some clouds must dim your coming day; +Yet, bootless pride and falsehood scorn, +And peace like this shall cheer your way. + +Now, at the dark Wood's stately side, +Well pleas'd I met the Sun again; +Here fleeting Fancy travell'd wide! +My seat was destin'd to the Main: +For, many an Oak lay stretch'd at length, +Whose trunks (with bark no longer sheath'd) +Had reach'd their full meridian strength +Before your Father's Father breath'd! + +Perhaps they'll many a conflict brave, +And many a dreadful storm defy; +Then groaning o'er the adverse wave, +Bring home the flag of victory. +Go, then, proud Oaks; we meet no more! +Go, grace the scenes to me denied, +The white Cliffs round my native shore, +And the loud Ocean's swelling tide. + +'Genius of the Forest Shades,' +Sweet, from the heights of thy domain, +When the grey ev'ning shadow fades, +To view the Country's golden grain! +To view the gleaming Village Spire +Midst distant groves unknown to me; +Groves, that grown bright in borrow'd fire, +Bow o'er the peopled Vales to thee! + +Where was thy Elfin train that play +Round _Wake's_ huge Oak, their favourite tree; +May a poor son of Song thus say, +Why were they not reveal'd to me! +Yet, smiling Fairies left behind, +Affection brought you to nay view; +To love and tenderness resign'd, +I sat me down and thought of you. + +When Morning still unclouded rose, +Refresh'd with sleep and joyous dreams, +Where fruitful fields with woodlands close, +I trac'd the births of various streams. +From beds of Clay, here creeping rills +Unseen to parent _Ouse_ would steal; +Or, gushing from the northward Hills, +'Would glitter through _Toves'_ winding dale. + +But ah! ye cooling springs, farewell! +Herds, I no more your freedom share; +But long my grateful tongue shall tell +What brought your gazing stranger there. +'Genius of the Forest Shades, +'Lend thy power, and lend thine ear;' +Let dreams still lengthen thy long glades, +And bring thy peace and silence here. + + + + + SONG FOR A HIGHLAND DROVER RETURNING FROM ENGLAND. + +Now fare-thee-well, England; no further I'll roam; +But follow my shadow that points the way home; +Your gay southern Shores shall not tempt me to stay; +For my Maggy's at Home, and my Children at play! +Tis this makes my Bonnet set light on my brow, +Gives my sinews their strength and my bosom its glow. + +Farewell, Mountaineers! my companions, adieu; +Soon, many long miles when I'm severed from you, +I shall miss your white Horns on the brink of the Bourne, +And o'er the rough Heaths, where you'll never return: +But in brave English pastures you cannot complain, +While your Drover speeds back to his Maggy again. + +O Tweed! gentle Tweed, as I pass your green vales, +More than life, more than Love, my tir'd Spirit inhales; +There Scotland, my darling, lies full in my view, +With her bare-footed Lasses and Mountains so blue: +To the Mountains away; my heart bounds like the Hind; +For home is so sweet, and my Maggy so kind. + +As day after day I still follow my course, +And in fancy trace back every Stream to its source, +Hope cheers me up hills, where the road lies before +O'er hills just as high, and o'er tracks of wild Moor; +The keen polar Star nightly rising to view; +But Maggy's my Star, just as steady and true. + +O Ghosts of my Fathers! O heroes, look down! +Fix my wandering thoughts on your deeds of renown, +For the glory of Scotland reigns warm in my breast, +And fortitude grows both from toil and from rest; +May your deeds and your worth be for ever in view, +And may Maggy bear sons not unworthy of you. + +Love, why do you urge me, so weary and poor? +I cannot step faster, I cannot do more; +I've pass'd silver Tweed; e'en the Tay flows behind: +Yet fatigue I'll disdain;--my reward I shall find: +Thou, sweet smile of innocence, thou art my prize; +And the joy that will sparkle in Maggy's blue eyes. + +She'll watch to the southward;--perhaps she will sigh, +That the way is so long, and the Mountains so high; +Perhaps some huge Rock in the dusk she may see, +And will say in her fondness, 'That surely is he!' +Good Wife, you're deceiv'd; I'm still far from my home; +Go, sleep, my dear Maggy,--to-morrow I'll come. + + + + + A WORD TO TWO YOUNG LADIES. + +WHEN tender Rose-trees first receive +On half-expanded Leaves, the Shower; +Hope's gayest pictures we believe, +And anxious watch each coining flower. + +Then, if beneath the genial Sun +That spreads abroad the full-blown May, +Two infant Stems the rest out-run, +Their buds the first to meet the day, + +With joy their op'ning tints we view, +While morning's precious moments fly: +My pretty Maids, 'tis thus with _you_; +The fond admiring gazer, _I_. + +Preserve, sweet Buds, where'er you be; +The richest gem that decks a Wife; +The charm of _female modesty:_ +And let sweet Music give it life. + +Still may the favouring Muse be found: +Still circumspect the paths ye tread: +Plant moral truths in Fancy's ground; +And meet old Age without a dread. + +Yet, ere that comes, while yet ye quaff +The cup of Health without a pain, +I'll shake my grey hairs when you laugh, +And, when you sing, be young again. + +Both the young Ladies had addressed to me a few complimentary lines, (and +I am sorry that those of the elder sister were never in my possession;) in +return for which I sent the above. It was received on the day on which the +younger completed her ninth year. Surely it cannot be ascribed to vanity, +if, in gratitude to a most amiable family, I here preserve verbatim an +effort of a child nine years old. I hare the more pleasure in doing it, +because _I know_ them to be her own. R.B. + +"Accept, dear Bard, the Muse's genuine thought, +And take not ill the tribute of my heart:-- +For thee the laureat wreath of praise I'll bind, +None that have read thy commendable mind +Can let it pass unnotic'd--nor can I-- +For by thy lays I know thy sympathy." F.P. + + + + ON HEARING THE TRANSLATION OF PART OF THE FARMER'S BOY INTO LATIN + + _By the Rev. Mr. C--;_ + +Hey, Giles! in what new garb art dresst? +For Lads like you methinks a bold one; +I'm glad to see thee so caresst; +But, hark ye!--don't despise your old one. +Thou'rt not the first by many, a Boy +Who've found abroad good friends to own 'em; +Then, in such Coats have shown their joy, +E'en their _own Fathers_ have not known 'em. + + + +[Illustration] + + + NANCY + + A Song. + + +You ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume +That you cherish a secret affection for me? +When we see the Flow'rs bud, don't we look for the Bloom? +Then, sweetest, attend, while I answer to thee. + +When we Young Men with pastimes the Twilight beguile, +I watch your plump cheek till it dimples with joy: +And observe, that whatever occasions the smile, +You give me a glance; but provokingly coy. + +Last Month, when wild Strawberries pluckt in the Grove, +Like beads on the tall seeded grass you had strung; +You gave me the choicest; I hop'd 'twas for Love; +And I told you my hopes while the Nightingale sung. + +Remember the Viper:--'twas close at your feet; +How you started, and threw yourself into my arms; +Not a Strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet +As the lips which I kiss'd to subdue your alarms. + +As I pull'd down the clusters of Nuts for my Fair, +What a blow I receiv'd from a strong bending bough; +Though Lucy and other gay lasses were there, +Not one of them show'd such compassion as you. + +And was it compassion?--by Heaven 'twas more! +A telltale betrays you;--that blush on your cheek. +Then come, dearest Maid, all your trifling give o'er, +And whisper what Candour will teach you to speak. + +Can you stain my fair Honour with one broken vow? +Can you say that I've ever occasion'd a pain? +On Truth's honest base let your tenderness grow: +I swear to be faithful, again and again. + + + +[Illustration] + + + ROSY HANNAH. + +A Spring o'erhung with many a flow'r, +The grey sand dancing in its bed, +Embank'd beneath a Hawthorn bower, +Sent forth its waters near my head: +A rosy Lass approach'd my view; +I caught her blue eye's modest beam: +The stranger nodded 'How d'ye do!' +And leap'd across the infant stream. + +The water heedless pass'd away: +With me her glowing image stay'd. +I strove, from that auspicious day, +To meet and bless the lovely Maid. +I met her where beneath our feet +Through downy Moss the Wild-Thyme grew; +Nor Moss elastic, flow'rs though sweet, +Match'd Hannah's cheek of rosy hue. + +I met her where the dark Woods wave, +And shaded verdure skirts the plain; +And when the pale Moon rising gave +New glories to her cloudy train. +From her sweet Cot upon the Moor +Our plighted vows to Heaven are flown; +Truth made me welcome at her door, +And rosy Hannah is my own. + + + +[Illustration] + + +Song. + + THE SHEPHERD AND HIS DOG ROVER. + + +ROVER, awake! the grey Cock crows! +Come, shake your coat and go with me! +High in the East the green Hill glows; +And glory crowns our shelt'ring Tree. +The Sheep expect us at the fold: +My faithful Dog, let's haste away, +And in his earliest beams behold, +And hail, the source of cheerful day. + +Half his broad orb o'erlooks the Hill, +And darting down the Valley flies: +At every casement welcome still; +The golden summons of the skies. +Go, fetch my Staff; and o'er the dews +Let Echo waft thy gladsome voice. +Shall we a cheerful note refuse +When rising Morn proclaims 'Rejoice!' + +Now then we'll start; and thus I'll sling +Our store, a trivial load to bear: +Yet, ere night comes, should hunger sting, +I'll not encroach on _Rover's_ share. +The fresh breeze bears its sweets along; +The Lark but chides us while we stay: +Soon shall the Vale repeat my song; +Go brush before, away, away. + + + + HUNTING SONG + +Ye darksome Woods where Echo dwells, +Where every bud with freedom swells + To meet the glorious day: +The morning breaks; again rejoice; +And with old Ringwood's well-known voice + Bid tuneful Echo play. + +We come, ye Groves, ye Hills, we come: +The vagrant Fox shall hear: his doom, + And dread our jovial train. +The shrill Horn sounds, the courser flies, +While every Sportsman joyful cries, + 'There's Ringwood's voice again.' + +Ye Meadows, hail the coming throng; +Ye peaceful Streams that wind along, + Repeat the Hark-away: +Far o'er the Downs, ye Gales that sweep, +The daring Oak that crowns the steep, + The roaring peal convey. + +The chiming notes of chearful Hounds, +Hark! how the hollow Dale resounds; + The sunny Hills how gay. +But where's the note, brave Dog, like thine? +Then urge the Steed, the chorus join, + 'Tis Ringwood leads the way. + + + +[Illustration] + + + LUCY: + + A Song. + + +Thy favourite Bird is soaring still: +My Lucy, haste thee o'er the dale; +The Stream's let loose, and from the Mill +All silent comes the balmy gale; + Yet, so lightly on its way, + Seems to whisper 'Holiday.' + +The pathway flowers that bending meet +And give the Meads their yellow hue, +The May-bush and the Meadow-sweet +Reserve their fragrance all for you. + Why then, Lucy, why delay? + Let us share the Holiday. + +Since there thy smiles, my charming Maid, +Are with unfeigned rapture seen, +To Beauty be the homage paid; +Come, claim the triumph of the Green. + Here's my hand, come, come away; + Share the merry Holiday. + +A promise too my Lucy made, +(And shall my heart its claim resign?) +That ere May-flowers again should fade, +Her heart and hand should both be mine. + Hark 'ye, Lucy, this is May; + Love shall crown our Holiday. + + + + WINTER SONG + +Dear Boy, throw that Icicle down, +And sweep this deep Snow from the door: +Old Winter comes on with a frown; +A terrible frown for the poor. +In a Season so rude and forlorn +How can age, how can infancy bear +The silent neglect and the scorn +Of those who have plenty to spare? + +Fresh broach'd is my Cask of old Ale, +Well-tim'd now the frost is set in; +Here's Job come to tell us a tale, +We'll make him at home to a pin. +While my Wife and I bask o'er the fire, +The roll of the Seasons will prove, +That Time may diminish desire, +But cannot extinguish true love. + +O the pleasures of neighbourly chat, +If you can but keep scandal away, +To learn what the world has been at, +And what the great Orators say; +Though the Wind through the crevices sing, +And Hail down the chimney rebound, +I'm happier than many a king +While the Bellows blow Bass to the sound. + +Abundance was never my lot: +But out of the trifle that's given, +That no curse may alight on my Cot, +I'll distribute the bounty of Heaven: +The fool and the slave gather wealth; +But if I add nought to my store, +Yet while I keep conscience in health, +I've a Mine that will never grow poor. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs +by Robert Bloomfield + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RURAL TALES, BALLADS, AND SONGS *** + +This file should be named rural10.txt or rural10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, rural11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rural10a.txt + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Charles Bidwell and Distributed Proofreaders + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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