Original, serious, and religious poetry by the Rev. Richard Cobbold |
 |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
THE RIDE. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
 | Original, serious, and religious poetry |  |
97
THE RIDE.
I love to ride to Downham Reach,
Along the Orwell's banks,
Through Greenwich farm, let friendship teach
My former boyish pranks!
Along the Orwell's banks,
Through Greenwich farm, let friendship teach
My former boyish pranks!
One lovely day, with friend of old,
A schoolfellow of mine:
Who many a day, some tale has told,
So horrible and fine,
A schoolfellow of mine:
Who many a day, some tale has told,
So horrible and fine,
Along the banks we took our way,
And loosed the chargers rein,
In beautiful and calm a day
As winter could maintain.
And loosed the chargers rein,
In beautiful and calm a day
As winter could maintain.
98
The sky was bright and nature warm,
No clouds obscured the sun,
Which now in high meridian charm,
On Orwell's waters shone.
No clouds obscured the sun,
Which now in high meridian charm,
On Orwell's waters shone.
O tell me Spirit, what could cheer
This weary mortal frame;
Was it the smile to friendship dear,
Or hope of growing fame.
This weary mortal frame;
Was it the smile to friendship dear,
Or hope of growing fame.
What made thee almost burst the chord
That bound thee to this earth?
What made as though thou would'st have soar'd
Beyond thy present birth.
That bound thee to this earth?
What made as though thou would'st have soar'd
Beyond thy present birth.
Like rhapsody yet temper'd well,
As nobly managed steed,
Perhaps my memory can tell,
The sequel of this speed.
As nobly managed steed,
Perhaps my memory can tell,
The sequel of this speed.
99
A friend, what pleasing term to life,
A friend from boyish day,
Though years had parted us, not strife,
Yet friendship held her sway.
A friend from boyish day,
Though years had parted us, not strife,
Yet friendship held her sway.
Ah what can rouse the bosom's fire,
What make the spirit rise,
What Poetry herself inspire,
But cherish'd friendships prize.
What make the spirit rise,
What Poetry herself inspire,
But cherish'd friendships prize.
Away we rode, each snorting steed,
With noble action bounded:
And scarcely could we check their speed,
The hills around resounded.
With noble action bounded:
And scarcely could we check their speed,
The hills around resounded.
We stopt behind the well known Cliff,
Close by the garden fence:
And caught a glimse of passing skiff,
Like moment of suspense.
Close by the garden fence:
And caught a glimse of passing skiff,
Like moment of suspense.
100
Five stately trees beside the shore,
Whose shade had often been
Sweet place of rest in days of yore,
For one who lov'd the scene:
Whose shade had often been
Sweet place of rest in days of yore,
For one who lov'd the scene:
Oft has the pencil mark'd the spot,
A study for the eye,
We stopt, to show thee I had not
Forgot thy charm gone by.
A study for the eye,
We stopt, to show thee I had not
Forgot thy charm gone by.
The wide expanse of silv'ry wave,
Now glitter'd in the ray:
And vessel toiling like a slave,
Against the wind made way.
Now glitter'd in the ray:
And vessel toiling like a slave,
Against the wind made way.
We made our way but slowly now
For every spot spake peace,
Remembrance of some childish vow,
Ah memory must cease!
For every spot spake peace,
Remembrance of some childish vow,
Ah memory must cease!
101
The well known poplar by whose side,
In infant days I stood;
Now growing old, was stript of pride,
Exposed its hollow wood.
In infant days I stood;
Now growing old, was stript of pride,
Exposed its hollow wood.
This dear old tree my friend I've known
So long, that now it seems
But yesterday I tore my gown,
In climbing up its beams.
So long, that now it seems
But yesterday I tore my gown,
In climbing up its beams.
Ah! often to the nursemaid's side,
In passing through this farm,
I've clung with horror, least the tide
Should sweep me from her arm.
In passing through this farm,
I've clung with horror, least the tide
Should sweep me from her arm.
But now this tide is but a brook,
A stream of quiet flow,
'T would scarcely drown a wounded rook,
But boyish fears you know.
A stream of quiet flow,
'T would scarcely drown a wounded rook,
But boyish fears you know.
102
These geese, perhaps the very same
That terrified me then,
Now seem so quiet and so tame,
They know we must be men.
That terrified me then,
Now seem so quiet and so tame,
They know we must be men.
Across the stream we darted on,
And galloped up the hill,
The sun majestically shone,
As monarch with his will.
And galloped up the hill,
The sun majestically shone,
As monarch with his will.
Broad were his beams on Ipswich shed,
The buildings of the town
Seem'd magnified, so clear and red
The various roofs were shown.
The buildings of the town
Seem'd magnified, so clear and red
The various roofs were shown.
The great gasometer whose shaft
Rose peering to the sky,
A land mark to direct the craft,
Was level with the eye.
Rose peering to the sky,
A land mark to direct the craft,
Was level with the eye.
103
The semicircled waters, wash'd
The quays and verdant shore:
Sure pampered vice would feel abash'd,
To view the Almighty's store.
The quays and verdant shore:
Sure pampered vice would feel abash'd,
To view the Almighty's store.
In winter's day when summer's sun
Appears to cheer the heart,
Reflect upon the deeds you've done,
And crave the Spirit's part.
Appears to cheer the heart,
Reflect upon the deeds you've done,
And crave the Spirit's part.
From such reflection we pursued,
The road of cheerful track,
The Orwell our attention woo'd,
Full often we look'd back.
The road of cheerful track,
The Orwell our attention woo'd,
Full often we look'd back.
Yet forward was the lovely scene,
The wide expanded stream,
The parted woods with waves between,
So white in sunny gleam.
The wide expanded stream,
The parted woods with waves between,
So white in sunny gleam.
104
We reach'd the lane; of all the lanes
That painters would admire,
There's none so full of sweets and pains,
So fit for poet's fire.
That painters would admire,
There's none so full of sweets and pains,
So fit for poet's fire.
Ah pause my spirit, pause awhile,
And thou my panting steed,
Restrain thy fury, as a smile
Would calm a hasty deed.
And thou my panting steed,
Restrain thy fury, as a smile
Would calm a hasty deed.
Ah! here my friend, I speak with truth,
If ever spot were mine,
In which the ardour of my youth,
Could court affections shrine!
If ever spot were mine,
In which the ardour of my youth,
Could court affections shrine!
If ever spot could concentrate,
A mortals wishes here,
This very field I'd nominate,
The place so truly dear.
A mortals wishes here,
This very field I'd nominate,
The place so truly dear.
105
For if in youth my soul has soar'd
Above the vicious world;
And felt enraptured with its Lord,
Here has it been unfurl'd.
Above the vicious world;
And felt enraptured with its Lord,
Here has it been unfurl'd.
Here forward, backward, round and round,
I've traced, retraced, and trod
This wild uncultivated ground,
In converse with my God.
I've traced, retraced, and trod
This wild uncultivated ground,
In converse with my God.
How often said in thoughtful mood,
Lord I could here desire
To live with thee, or if 'tis good,
Could hence to thee aspire.
Lord I could here desire
To live with thee, or if 'tis good,
Could hence to thee aspire.
How lovely nature, sky serene,
The waters broad and bright,
Reflect the features that have been,
For God himself is light.
The waters broad and bright,
Reflect the features that have been,
For God himself is light.
106
The purest feeling love can call,
From hallowed spirits fire,
Has here enjoyed, been all in all,
The sunshine of desire.
From hallowed spirits fire,
Has here enjoyed, been all in all,
The sunshine of desire.
But now my friend survey the scene,
And ask the reason why:
What beauty in this faded green,
What transport in this sky?
And ask the reason why:
What beauty in this faded green,
What transport in this sky?
Why do you waves so lovely seem,
Why yonder distance grey,
Appear with interest to teem
Why all this feeling, say?
Why yonder distance grey,
Appear with interest to teem
Why all this feeling, say?
'Tis thus my friend, in freedom's hour,
To youthful spirit granted,
My soul has tried its feeble power,
My heart with honor panted.
To youthful spirit granted,
My soul has tried its feeble power,
My heart with honor panted.
107
Observe yon cottage on the shore,
Beneath the Freston hill,
Yon ancient tower in days of yore,
The place of human skill.
Beneath the Freston hill,
Yon ancient tower in days of yore,
The place of human skill.
Methinks what numbers spirits are,
Since Freston Tower was built!
What numbers then, as I am, were
Replete with human guilt.
Since Freston Tower was built!
What numbers then, as I am, were
Replete with human guilt.
Yon Mansion in the midst of trees,
With Obelisk beside,
The Cat House cottage, which one sees,
Close to the river's side.
With Obelisk beside,
The Cat House cottage, which one sees,
Close to the river's side.
The Cottage here in wood of beach,
The gamekeeper's resort;
The pomp and pride of Downham Reach,
The sailors well known port.
The gamekeeper's resort;
The pomp and pride of Downham Reach,
The sailors well known port.
108
Old Gooding, good enough may be,
A faithful servant too,
A surly fellow truly he,
As any one could know.
A faithful servant too,
A surly fellow truly he,
As any one could know.
The antient Manor House is nigh,
With mote around the vale,
Here stood the famous Priory,
Of noted Alversdale.
With mote around the vale,
Here stood the famous Priory,
Of noted Alversdale.
Awhile upon the beach we stood,
To look on Freston Tow'r,
The turret rising from the wood,
Commanded all the shore!
To look on Freston Tow'r,
The turret rising from the wood,
Commanded all the shore!
We spoke of days now past and gone,
Of many too to come!
Alas they speed! my tale is done!
We turn'd and galloped home.
Of many too to come!
Alas they speed! my tale is done!
We turn'd and galloped home.
| Original, serious, and religious poetry | |