The bard of the dales :: :: University of Virginia Library

The few that were left had lamented long
The barrenness of the ground,
Where a chapel with great care had erected been
For hundreds of neighbours round,
Who would not come, though many of them
Had no salvation found!

The place though small, might be compar'd
To a garden o'errun with weeds,
With schools of ignorance the most profound
And men of corrupted creeds;
And others with sinews as of iron strong
Who could boast of their wicked deeds.

Yet hope beheld a stream of light
O'er the mountains find its way,
That the place might still a blessing prove
To some at a future day;—
Then a fear broken in, that before that time
A great many might miss their way!

There were men not far, whose hoary locks
Bespoke their weight of years,
Whose wicked words and haggard looks
Indicated their guilty fears,
Who of course, ere long, whether purg'd or not
Must quit this vale of tears.

136

There were some blam'd this, and some blam'd that,
Thus all had some excuse,
To justify the conduct of such
As might that call refuse;
Others grumbling said, (though it cost them nought)
“Such a place there was of no use!”

On the sabbath free seats oft were empty found
To give the preachers pain,
And Satan was triumphing loud
O'er the numbers he had in chain;—
Hope said that yet the sun might not shine
Nor the lights yet burn in vain!

It was cheering once, while under the word
To a neighbour who sat not far,
And welcome as after a stormy night
Was the radiant morning star!
When the sinner seem'd to lay his weapons down
And cease the inglorious war.

But again hope sicken'd at the sight,
And gloomy fear prevailed,
When a feeble effort he made for life
But alas! that effort failed,—
On Zion's glory he turned his back
And again into Egypt sailed.

Hope again reviv'd when a tear was seen
To roll from a female's eye,
Where others thick and fast were gathering round,
Like drops in the clear blue sky,—
More precious they seem'd than evening dews
To a land that was parch'd and dry!

137

But Satan also had his school
With which much pains he took,
Who at that solemn hour carousing were
In a tavern across the brook,—
Who neither car'd for God! nor Jesus Christ!
Nor his Sabbath! nor his Holy Book!!

Hell saw, displeased, and an agent sent
To that place without delay,
With flattering words and false reports
To wipe the tears away,—
Or with his dark and devilish baits
To lead such souls astray!

Hope revived, when under the Sermon sat
A mother, who had travell'd far
To hear the word, and a penitent seem'd
On that night, when we saw no star,—
But folly's fine bells soon tinkled again
And fear them hopes did mar!

It was not long when a cloud arose
Which eclips'd the prospects bright,
A fear arose, not without just cause
And hope for a while took flight,—
When in the dancing room she was found
At the silent noon of night!

Her house was the haunt of vulgar men
Her daughters became rude and wild,
They introduced a musical band
Where night by night they toil'd,—
Thus Satan set a respectable snare
For husband, wife, and child!

138

An agent from a distance came
To teach them the rural art,
To finger in style the nimble key
And each perform his part,—
But the chief object which he had in view,
Was to draw from God the heart.

It is allowed by the laws of hell
And Satan's high command,
For his servants to answer any turn
Or system that comes to hand,—
In chapels to sing, or play at cards,
Or dance to the music band!

So he sends his agents round to enlist
The youth of the present age,
Who become so bold in wickedness,
And fierce as the ocean's rage,—
Though an angry God, in a single hour
Could sweep them off life's stage!

Yet hope lifts up her drooping head
To the stars that must one day fall,
And steadfast to the promise looks
As the needle to the distant pole,—
When God, his Christ, his angels, and saints
Shall reign and conquer all!