The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse (1735-1820): Edited by the Rev. R. I. Woodhouse |
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CRISPINUS' BIRTH, EDUCATION, &c. |
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CHAPTER 1st.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | ||
CRISPINUS' BIRTH, EDUCATION, &c.
Here Crispin's infant face first learnt to smile,Without base views to flatter, or beguile!
Nor e'er in after-time, when grave, or gay,
His Friend, or Fellow, studied to betray.
Then strove no smiling feature to restrain,
Unwitting of that Parent's toil and pain;
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As pristine proofs of Vice, or Virtue, sprang.
There, first, his aided footsteps feebly trod,
And tript light gambols o'er the grassy sod—
Lisp'd broken syllables with stammering tongue,
Unconscious of the skill, or sweets, of Song!
Tried all the little tricks of human Elf,
To draw attention to sweet idol, Self—
An impious passion! which, still, actuates all
The human Race, around this earthly Ball;
Endeavouring worship, still, as Gods, to win,
Since Nature felt Man's fatal lapse to Sin;
Nor operates only on the infant Mind,
But o'er each Age, Sex, Class, amongst Mankind!
Here stored low Learnings rudimental types,
Without expence of pains, or tears, or stripes;
And soon to notable attainments grew,
In that sole tongue his intellect e'er knew.
Here first the Pen's important labours plied,
And powr's of Integers, with Cyphers, tried,
But little progress, or proficience, found
Ere call'd to grasp the tool, or till the ground—
Here catechistic answers aptly learn'd,
Remember'd full, by him, by Folly, spurn'd—
Read Heav'n's blest Book! which Memory kept, in part,
Religion's compass! each true Christian's chart!
Oft, in Life's voyage, laid aside, or lost—
Oft overboard, by Pride and Passion tost;
Or if bold Conscience recognize the Book,
Avarice and Lust, each holy rule o'erlook,
While Sloth and Indolence its laws neglect,
Till Mariner and Vessel oft are wreckt!
Here, pleas'd, in childhood, with the chime of words,
He learnt like practice with imprisoned Birds;
Or Priests, who read by rote, but never pray,
Repeating pious phrases day by day.
Here, 'mid lov'd exercise of Wisdom's lore,
Caught some plain, simple, truths from letter'd store,
Which, tho' but badly spoke, or badly spell'd,
His faithful heart, still fond, in future, held.
Was taught that all things felt, or seen, or heard,
Were made by One who ne'er to Sense appear'd.
Who gave all Creatures form, and life, at first,
And all, thro' Nature, cloth'd, and fed, and nurst.
How he, and all his Friends, that self-same Pow'r,
First fram'd, and still sustain'd, from hour to hour;
Demanding, and deserving, all the Love,
Of all that reason; round, below, above!
Learnt He must neither cheat—or swear—or lie—
Because that wonderous Being was always by—
Watch'd every word—and saw each silent thought—
And whipt each Child, whose aim, or wish, was naught,
But lov'd and cherish'd all whose hearts would strive
To keep His honour, thro' their love, alive.
His Parents, both, must honour and obey—
Not think himself so good, or wise, as they—
Nor, for the sake of pleasure, ease, or pelf,
Neglect to love his Neighbour as himself.
Must none offend, thro' wickedness, or whim,
Or think one Fellow-mortal made for Him;
And might all others needs, and miseries, know,
By what gave him offence, or pain, or woe.
To know what other's wants, or comforts, were,
Might search his Soul and find their feelings there.
That churlish Children who increase their crimes,
Become base monsters, or mere brutes, betimes.
That He's the vilest Child, the basest Boy,
Who mocks, and mows, while other's weep, or cry—
That He's the happiest, and most honour'd, Youth,
Who loves his Like, and always tells the truth;
And He the wisest, best, and bravest, Man,
Who does least ill, and greatest good, he can.
That honesty's the highest interest, still,
Let Craft and Cunning say whate'er they will;
And they who least deserve their Parent's rod,
Will best obey, and gain the Love, of God!
To read God's word, to reverence His great Name,
And honour all, who honour, justly, claim.
That all must die, and, after death, arise,
To meet their Saviour, Christ, within the Skies;
And when they stand before His presence there,
Must give account of all their conduct here—
That they who best their God, and Fellows, love,
Shall share the highest happiness above;
They who hate Man, and 'gainst their God rebel,
Will feel, with Fiends, the heaviest pains in Hell!
CHAPTER 1st.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | ||