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CHAPTER 5th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
Twelve times the Sun had joined the Dogstar's ray,
And heavenly Libra balanc'd Night and Day,
While patient Crispin, and his poor Compeers,
Experienc'd hurts, and favours—hopes, and fears—
But, like the cloudy clime in which they dwelt,
More gloom than gleams, more show'rs than sunshine felt!
Passion and Pride, like Scots' Autumnal sky,
Blew frequent blasts, and scarce a day was dry!
Some cloudy, dark caprice, or stormy whim,
Bedrench'd his Mate, or rudely ruffled Him.
Ungenial bickerings kill'd his budding joys,
While infant hopes were drown'd in Daphne's eyes!
Nor could their Flock from accusation 'scape,
Of fraud, or falshood, in some shocking shape,
Sustaining stigma base, or stubborn blame—
Throttled by threats, or gibbeted by shame—
Impeach'd, as Culprits, or condemn'd, as Clowns—
By whispers whipp'd, or ferula'd by frowns—
While, tho' still wrong'd by burdensome restraints,
Proud cruelty precluded all complaints!
And heavenly Libra balanc'd Night and Day,
While patient Crispin, and his poor Compeers,
Experienc'd hurts, and favours—hopes, and fears—
But, like the cloudy clime in which they dwelt,
More gloom than gleams, more show'rs than sunshine felt!
Passion and Pride, like Scots' Autumnal sky,
Blew frequent blasts, and scarce a day was dry!
Some cloudy, dark caprice, or stormy whim,
Bedrench'd his Mate, or rudely ruffled Him.
Ungenial bickerings kill'd his budding joys,
While infant hopes were drown'd in Daphne's eyes!
Nor could their Flock from accusation 'scape,
Of fraud, or falshood, in some shocking shape,
Sustaining stigma base, or stubborn blame—
Throttled by threats, or gibbeted by shame—
Impeach'd, as Culprits, or condemn'd, as Clowns—
By whispers whipp'd, or ferula'd by frowns—
While, tho' still wrong'd by burdensome restraints,
Proud cruelty precluded all complaints!
Before their sight still former favours shone,
While distant prospects drew endeavours on;
Like Hebrew camp, thro' dismal deserts led,
By sworn protection, and by certain bread;
As cloudy meteor mov'd, obscure, or bright,
Tho' dark, by day, 'twas luminous by night—
And tho' the wilderness with horrors howl'd;
Tho' foes attack'd, and false ungratefuls growl'd;
From fiery Serpents desperate pangs endur'd,
Faith view'd Christ's Cross, and every wound was cur'd!
While distant prospects drew endeavours on;
Like Hebrew camp, thro' dismal deserts led,
By sworn protection, and by certain bread;
As cloudy meteor mov'd, obscure, or bright,
Tho' dark, by day, 'twas luminous by night—
And tho' the wilderness with horrors howl'd;
Tho' foes attack'd, and false ungratefuls growl'd;
From fiery Serpents desperate pangs endur'd,
Faith view'd Christ's Cross, and every wound was cur'd!
But there true Covenanter ne'er deceiv'd,
Nor e'er, for fancied faults good Servants griev'd—
No promise might from pride, or passion, fail;
Here all was weak, or wicked; false, or frail!
'Twas like base Laban's crimes, and Jacob's case,
Friendship's disgust, and Fattery's foul disgrace!
Allur'd by recompence of love's reward,
He thought no labours long, no hardships hard;
Till finding faith betray'd, and truth destroy'd,
By blear-ey'd Maid, instead of beauteous Bride.
With promises as full, and hopes as fair,
Their trap was baited, and as base the snare—
And tho' their melancholy lot was such
As made their punctur'd spirits grieve and grutch;
Yet Gratitude for favours, long before,
Forbad to tell their tale, tho' sad and sore!
While firm Affection bridled back their tongues,
Sign'd folded blanks, and seal'd their secret wrongs!
Nor e'er, for fancied faults good Servants griev'd—
No promise might from pride, or passion, fail;
102
'Twas like base Laban's crimes, and Jacob's case,
Friendship's disgust, and Fattery's foul disgrace!
Allur'd by recompence of love's reward,
He thought no labours long, no hardships hard;
Till finding faith betray'd, and truth destroy'd,
By blear-ey'd Maid, instead of beauteous Bride.
With promises as full, and hopes as fair,
Their trap was baited, and as base the snare—
And tho' their melancholy lot was such
As made their punctur'd spirits grieve and grutch;
Yet Gratitude for favours, long before,
Forbad to tell their tale, tho' sad and sore!
While firm Affection bridled back their tongues,
Sign'd folded blanks, and seal'd their secret wrongs!
Their sorrows, thus, in silence lay, conceal'd,
By mutual sighs, and tears, alone, reveal'd;
Their miseries only to each other shown,
To all their Friends, to all the World, unknown—
For none but Slaves, who feel such sorrows flow,
Can truly construe looks of silent woe;
The only rhetoric such kind Souls could reach,
More eloquent than all the pow'rs of speech!
By mutual sighs, and tears, alone, reveal'd;
Their miseries only to each other shown,
To all their Friends, to all the World, unknown—
For none but Slaves, who feel such sorrows flow,
Can truly construe looks of silent woe;
The only rhetoric such kind Souls could reach,
More eloquent than all the pow'rs of speech!
Thus did they deep distress, and pain, deplore—
Thus, long, their load with passive patience bore—
With taunts and stripes oppress'd, from day to day,
By proud caprice, and arbitrary sway;
Till pitying Providence look'd down, at length;
On deep despondence, and declining strength;
And, for a season, to restore their peace,
From Slavery show'd their Souls a short release.
Thus, long, their load with passive patience bore—
With taunts and stripes oppress'd, from day to day,
By proud caprice, and arbitrary sway;
Till pitying Providence look'd down, at length;
On deep despondence, and declining strength;
And, for a season, to restore their peace,
From Slavery show'd their Souls a short release.
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CHAPTER 5th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |