 | Poems |  |
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RURAL HAPPINESS,
WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN .
INSCRIBED TO THE REV. JOHN WOOLLCOMBE, M. A. AND FELLOW OF ORIEL COLLEGE.
“O, blest seclusion from a jarring world,
Which he thus occupied enjoys!”
Cowper's Task, Book III.
Which he thus occupied enjoys!”
Cowper's Task, Book III.
O, blest beyond compare are they,
Who hold their calm contented way,
Where cots, mid fields and gardens green,
Mark some lone hamlet's peaceful scene:
Thrice blest, if heav'n withal bestow
A heart their happiness to know!
Who hold their calm contented way,
Where cots, mid fields and gardens green,
Mark some lone hamlet's peaceful scene:
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A heart their happiness to know!
What tho' for them no portals proud
Pour forth at morn a courtier crowd;
For them no midnight dances shine,
Nor Gallia send her sparkling wine:
Yet their's, repose secure from strife;
And their's, the calm and guileless life;
For them the social blackbird sings;
For them the purple hare-bell springs;
White flocks for them with bleatings fill
The bending lawn or coppic'd hill;
While waving o'er some cavern'd bank,
Beset with snow-white lilies dank,
The beech his roots fantastic wreathes,
And fresh and cool the west-wind breathes.
Pour forth at morn a courtier crowd;
For them no midnight dances shine,
Nor Gallia send her sparkling wine:
Yet their's, repose secure from strife;
And their's, the calm and guileless life;
For them the social blackbird sings;
For them the purple hare-bell springs;
White flocks for them with bleatings fill
The bending lawn or coppic'd hill;
While waving o'er some cavern'd bank,
Beset with snow-white lilies dank,
The beech his roots fantastic wreathes,
And fresh and cool the west-wind breathes.
Around the modest virtues dwell,
Nor scorn the peasant's peaceful cell.
Contented Age; laborious Youth;
Parental Honour; nuptial Truth;
And, fairest daughters of the sky,
Meek Faith and tender Charity,
If yet on earth their footsteps be,
Linger, O rural Peace, with thee.
Nor scorn the peasant's peaceful cell.
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Parental Honour; nuptial Truth;
And, fairest daughters of the sky,
Meek Faith and tender Charity,
If yet on earth their footsteps be,
Linger, O rural Peace, with thee.
Mine be the lot, thy scenes among,
“Smit with the love of sacred song,”
And rapt in high poetic dream,
To meditate some holy theme.
So may I strike perchance the string,
And hymns of solemn triumph sing!
“Smit with the love of sacred song,”
And rapt in high poetic dream,
To meditate some holy theme.
So may I strike perchance the string,
And hymns of solemn triumph sing!
Or if my laggart soul in vain
Would soar to reach the lofty strain,
Be mine to rove mid waving woods,
Mid rocks, and glens, and falling floods;
Or sit in some romantic dell,
And on the songs of Sion dwell,
Till visionary fancy flies
To elder days and holier skies.
O! for the palmy woods, that wave
O'er streams, which pleasant Carmel lave;
Or cedar's branching arms, that crown
Thy brows, majestic Lebanon!
O, who my pilgrim feet will guide
To Jordan's ancient-hallow'd tide;
To valleys, where in many a rill
Falls the rich dew from Hermon's hill;
Or Siloa's flowery brook, “that flow'd
“Fast by the Oracle of God!”
Would soar to reach the lofty strain,
Be mine to rove mid waving woods,
Mid rocks, and glens, and falling floods;
Or sit in some romantic dell,
And on the songs of Sion dwell,
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To elder days and holier skies.
O! for the palmy woods, that wave
O'er streams, which pleasant Carmel lave;
Or cedar's branching arms, that crown
Thy brows, majestic Lebanon!
O, who my pilgrim feet will guide
To Jordan's ancient-hallow'd tide;
To valleys, where in many a rill
Falls the rich dew from Hermon's hill;
Or Siloa's flowery brook, “that flow'd
“Fast by the Oracle of God!”
Blest was the sightless bard, who told
God's noble acts in days of old.
Who sang Creation's glorious morn,
When sea and earth and heav'n were born:
And how, or ere the birth of time,
The rebel host from heav'n's fair clime,
With hideous rout and ruin, fell
Thro' Chaos to the depths of hell;
Then tun'd to sweeter tones his song,
And hymn'd, as with an Angel's tongue,
In numbers, fit for harps above,
The wonders of Messiah's love.
God's noble acts in days of old.
Who sang Creation's glorious morn,
When sea and earth and heav'n were born:
And how, or ere the birth of time,
The rebel host from heav'n's fair clime,
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Thro' Chaos to the depths of hell;
Then tun'd to sweeter tones his song,
And hymn'd, as with an Angel's tongue,
In numbers, fit for harps above,
The wonders of Messiah's love.
And happy he, (tho' heav'n withhold
The sounding verse and genius bold,)
Happy the man whose humbler lot
Is cast in some sequester'd spot;
Whose life with innocence is spent,
In letter'd ease and calm content;
His task, the list'ning swains around
To spread salvation's joyful sound.
The sounding verse and genius bold,)
Happy the man whose humbler lot
Is cast in some sequester'd spot;
Whose life with innocence is spent,
In letter'd ease and calm content;
His task, the list'ning swains around
To spread salvation's joyful sound.
His board by temperance is spread;
Sweet peace reposes on his bed;
Nor envies he the rich and great;
Nor sighs to change his lowly state;
Blest, if that lowly state afford
Enough to trim the social board,
And still a cheering gleam to spread
Of comfort thro' the poor man's shed.
Sweet peace reposes on his bed;
Nor envies he the rich and great;
Nor sighs to change his lowly state;
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Enough to trim the social board,
And still a cheering gleam to spread
Of comfort thro' the poor man's shed.
No wish has he abroad to roam,
Or seek for guilty joys at home.
But if his soul's far dearer part
Repay with her's his faithful heart;
If, sporting on its mother's breast,
His babe, with many a kiss carest,
Stretch forth its little arms the while,
And at its father sweetly smile;
While transport fills his swimming eyes,
He feels the bliss of Paradise.
Or seek for guilty joys at home.
But if his soul's far dearer part
Repay with her's his faithful heart;
If, sporting on its mother's breast,
His babe, with many a kiss carest,
Stretch forth its little arms the while,
And at its father sweetly smile;
While transport fills his swimming eyes,
He feels the bliss of Paradise.
Meantime with bards and sages old
His raptur'd thoughts high converse hold.
Nor want there, who in later time
Have sprung to grace our northern clime.
But most the holy men, who spread,
From Olivet and Horeb's head,
To earth and heav'n Jehovah's praise,
On themes divine employ his days.
And oft, in accents sweet and clear,
Such sounds salute his nightly ear,
As echoed from the tuneful shell
The pleasant hymns of Israël:
Or such as Bethlehem's shepherds heard,
What time the heav'nly host appear'd,
And angels told to all the earth
Glad tidings of the Saviour's birth.
His raptur'd thoughts high converse hold.
Nor want there, who in later time
Have sprung to grace our northern clime.
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From Olivet and Horeb's head,
To earth and heav'n Jehovah's praise,
On themes divine employ his days.
And oft, in accents sweet and clear,
Such sounds salute his nightly ear,
As echoed from the tuneful shell
The pleasant hymns of Israël:
Or such as Bethlehem's shepherds heard,
What time the heav'nly host appear'd,
And angels told to all the earth
Glad tidings of the Saviour's birth.
But his no hermit's dull repose:
His breast with active virtue glows.
He forms the falt'ring infant tongue
To lisp in many a holy song;
He trains the wand'ring step of youth
To tread the path of heav'nly truth;
He loves around the hoary head
Comfort and peace and joy to shed,
To calm with hope the struggling breath,
And dress in smiles the cheek of death.
His breast with active virtue glows.
He forms the falt'ring infant tongue
To lisp in many a holy song;
He trains the wand'ring step of youth
To tread the path of heav'nly truth;
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Comfort and peace and joy to shed,
To calm with hope the struggling breath,
And dress in smiles the cheek of death.
Chief on that day, which God hath blest
And hallow'd for his solemn rest,
To Sion's courts his steps repair,
To meet his Saviour's blessing there.
There, while his lips their tribute raise
Of pray'r and gratitude and praise,
“With meek and unaffected grace
His looks adorn the holy place;”
Warm from the altar of his heart,
His words a pious glow impart,
And seek, like fragrant fumes, the skies,
That from the golden censer rise.
And hallow'd for his solemn rest,
To Sion's courts his steps repair,
To meet his Saviour's blessing there.
There, while his lips their tribute raise
Of pray'r and gratitude and praise,
“With meek and unaffected grace
His looks adorn the holy place;”
Warm from the altar of his heart,
His words a pious glow impart,
And seek, like fragrant fumes, the skies,
That from the golden censer rise.
With temper'd zeal his Master's cause
He pleads; explains, confirms his laws;
Nor fails before the sight to lay
The terrors of the judgment-day:
But more his tongue delights to dwell
On those pure joys, which (Prophets tell)
Nor ear hath heard, nor eye hath seen,
Nor dwell they in the hearts of men;
To fix the hopes on things above,
To warm the heart to deeds of love,
Point the bright path his Saviour trod,
And lift the grateful soul to God.
He pleads; explains, confirms his laws;
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The terrors of the judgment-day:
But more his tongue delights to dwell
On those pure joys, which (Prophets tell)
Nor ear hath heard, nor eye hath seen,
Nor dwell they in the hearts of men;
To fix the hopes on things above,
To warm the heart to deeds of love,
Point the bright path his Saviour trod,
And lift the grateful soul to God.
So on he fares with steadfast pace,
And runs with joy his earthly race.
While Faith forestalls in visions bright
The blessings of the courts of light;
And, gazing with uplifted eye
Where yon bright orbs in order lie,
Sees heav'n unfold, and Jesus stand
In glory upon God's right hand.
And runs with joy his earthly race.
While Faith forestalls in visions bright
The blessings of the courts of light;
And, gazing with uplifted eye
Where yon bright orbs in order lie,
Sees heav'n unfold, and Jesus stand
In glory upon God's right hand.
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Such views immortal Hooker
blest;
And him , who drew the Country Priest,
And in his life held forth to view
The portrait, which his pencil drew.
And such in this sequester'd dell,
Where hoary swains thy virtues tell,
Such views were thine, thou rev'rend Sage ,
Who here, to cheer thy pilgrimage,
Didst draw the mystic veils, that lie
O'er the bright form of Prophecy;
Nor yet didst scorn with tender care
To lead thy flock to pastures fair,
Where flow'rs, like those of Eden, blow,
And streams of heav'nly comfort flow.
And him , who drew the Country Priest,
And in his life held forth to view
The portrait, which his pencil drew.
And such in this sequester'd dell,
Where hoary swains thy virtues tell,
Such views were thine, thou rev'rend Sage ,
Who here, to cheer thy pilgrimage,
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O'er the bright form of Prophecy;
Nor yet didst scorn with tender care
To lead thy flock to pastures fair,
Where flow'rs, like those of Eden, blow,
And streams of heav'nly comfort flow.
Oft as I tread the sacred shrine,
Where in calm peace thy bones recline;
And see thy warning words, tho' dead,
Call those thy living precepts led,
To serve the Lord with holy fear,
In peace with men to sojourn here,
Then hope, arising from the dust,
To join th' assembly of the just;
I hear a voice, that speaks to me,
And burn with zeal to follow thee.
Where in calm peace thy bones recline;
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Call those thy living precepts led,
To serve the Lord with holy fear,
In peace with men to sojourn here,
Then hope, arising from the dust,
To join th' assembly of the just;
I hear a voice, that speaks to me,
And burn with zeal to follow thee.
God of all goodness, pow'r, and might;
Father and source of life and light;
Thy Holy Spirit, Lord, impart;
Graft love of thee within my heart;
There true religion's fruits increase,
And give me innocence and peace!
So may no earthly cares molest
The holy calm, that stills my breast;
So may I serve thy courts with zeal,
And spread around the bliss I feel;
And when before thy throne I bend
With these, whom I thy servant tend,
May'st thou my willing heart approve,
And bless me with a smile of love.
Father and source of life and light;
Thy Holy Spirit, Lord, impart;
Graft love of thee within my heart;
There true religion's fruits increase,
And give me innocence and peace!
So may no earthly cares molest
The holy calm, that stills my breast;
So may I serve thy courts with zeal,
And spread around the bliss I feel;
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With these, whom I thy servant tend,
May'st thou my willing heart approve,
And bless me with a smile of love.
Author of “Ecclesiastical Polity.” See his Life by Isaac Walton; especially his address to the Abp. of Canterbury, where speaking of his great work, he says; “But, my Lord, I shall never be able to finish what I have begun, unless I be removed into some quiet country parsonage, where I may see God's blessings spring out of my mother earth, and eat mine own bread in peace and privacy. A place where I may, without disturbance, meditate my approaching mortality, and that great account, which all flesh must at the last great day give to the God of all spirits.” (p. 75. Oxford Edit.)
Lowth, the Commentator on the Prophets, was rector of Buriton. His Epitaph, to which there is an allusion below, is inscribed on a plain tablet of black marble on the south side of the Communion table in Buriton Church. My readers will pardon me for inserting it.
“Near the outside of this Wall
Lyeth the body of Mr. William Lowth,
Late Rector of this Church,
Who died May the 17th, 1732.
And being dead, still desires to speak to his beloved Parishioners,
And earnestly to exhort them,
Constantly to attend upon the worship of God,
Frequently to receive the Holy Sacrament,
And diligently to observe the good Instructions given in this place;
To breed up their children in the fear of God,
And to follow peace with all men,
And Holiness,
Without which no man shall see the Lord.
God give us all an happy Meeting
At the Resurrection of the Just!”
Lyeth the body of Mr. William Lowth,
Late Rector of this Church,
Who died May the 17th, 1732.
And being dead, still desires to speak to his beloved Parishioners,
And earnestly to exhort them,
Constantly to attend upon the worship of God,
Frequently to receive the Holy Sacrament,
And diligently to observe the good Instructions given in this place;
To breed up their children in the fear of God,
And to follow peace with all men,
And Holiness,
Without which no man shall see the Lord.
God give us all an happy Meeting
At the Resurrection of the Just!”
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