Poems, moral and descriptive By the late Richard Jago ... (Prepared for the press, and improved by the author, before his death.) To which is added, some account of the life and writings of Mr. Jago |
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PEYTOE's GHOST. |
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 | Poems, moral and descriptive |  |
181
PEYTOE's GHOST.
To Craven's health, and social joy,
The festive night was kept,
While mirth and patriot spirit flow'd,
And Dullness only slept.
The festive night was kept,
While mirth and patriot spirit flow'd,
And Dullness only slept.
When from the jovial crowd I stole,
And homeward shap'd my way;
And pass'd along by Chesterton,
All at the close of day.
And homeward shap'd my way;
And pass'd along by Chesterton,
All at the close of day.
The sky with clouds was over-cast:
An hollow tempest blow'd,
And rains and foaming cataracts
Had delug'd all the road.
An hollow tempest blow'd,
And rains and foaming cataracts
Had delug'd all the road.
When thro' the dark and lonesome shade,
Shone forth a sudden light;
And soon distinct an human form,
Engag'd my wondering sight.
Shone forth a sudden light;
And soon distinct an human form,
Engag'd my wondering sight.
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Onward it mov'd with graceful port,
And soon o'ertook my speed;
Then thrice I lifted up my hands,
And thrice I check'd my steed.
And soon o'ertook my speed;
Then thrice I lifted up my hands,
And thrice I check'd my steed.
Who art thou, passenger, it cry'd,
From yonder mirth retir'd?
That here pursu'st thy cheerless way,
Benighted, and be-mir'd.
From yonder mirth retir'd?
That here pursu'st thy cheerless way,
Benighted, and be-mir'd.
I am, said I, a country clerk,
A clerk of low degree,
And yonder gay and gallant scene,
Suits not a curacy.
A clerk of low degree,
And yonder gay and gallant scene,
Suits not a curacy.
But I have seen such sights to-day,
As make my heart full glad,
Altho' it is but dark, 'tis true,
And eke—my road is bad.
As make my heart full glad,
Altho' it is but dark, 'tis true,
And eke—my road is bad.
For I have seen lords, knights, and squires,
Of great and high renown,
To chuse a knight for this fair shire,
All met at Warwick Town.
Of great and high renown,
To chuse a knight for this fair shire,
All met at Warwick Town.
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A wight of skill to ken our laws,
Of courage to defend,
Of worth to serve the public cause,
Before a private end.
Of courage to defend,
Of worth to serve the public cause,
Before a private end.
And such they found, if right I guess—
Of gentle blood he came;
Of morals firm, of manners mild,
And Craven is his name.
Of gentle blood he came;
Of morals firm, of manners mild,
And Craven is his name.
Did half the British tribunes share
Experienc'd Mordaunt's truth,
Another half, like Craven, boast
A free unbiass'd youth:
Experienc'd Mordaunt's truth,
Another half, like Craven, boast
A free unbiass'd youth:
The sun I trow, in all his race,
No happier realm should find;
Nor Britons hope for aught in vain,
From warmth with prudence join'd.
No happier realm should find;
Nor Britons hope for aught in vain,
From warmth with prudence join'd.
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“Go on, my Country, favour'd soil,
Such Patriots to produce!
Go on, my Countrymen, he cry'd,
Such Patriots still to chuse.”
Such Patriots to produce!
Go on, my Countrymen, he cry'd,
Such Patriots still to chuse.”
This said, the placid form retir'd,
Behind the veil of night;
Yet bade me, for my Country's good,
The solemn tale recite.
Behind the veil of night;
Yet bade me, for my Country's good,
The solemn tale recite.
| Poems, moral and descriptive | |