The early poems of John Clare :: :: University of Virginia Library

While learned genius rush to bold extreemes
& sun beams snatch to light the muses fires
A humble rustic hums his lowly dreams
Far in the swail where poverty retires
& sings what nature & what truth inspires
The charms that rise from rural scenery
Which he in pastures & in woods admires
The sports the feelings of his infancy
& such like artless things how mean so ere they be

2

Tho far from what the learneds toils requite
He unambitious looks at no renown

124

But little hopes break his oblivions night
To cheer the bosom of a luckless clown
Where black neglect spreads one continual frown
& threats her constant winter cold & chill
Where toil & slavery bears each fancy down
That feign would soar & sing ‘albeit ill’
& forces him submit to fates controuling will

3

Still like the broad leafd dock its horned burrs
That to the passing labourers garments cling
On retrospections sight the past adhers
His native scenes & childhoods early spring
So sweet to view so temptingly to sing
Fancy beholds & quickens at the sight
& thro the thorns wants in her passage fling
Oer the bent head she limps her lowly flight
Groups thro obscuritys dark vale & struggles for the light

4

Young lubin was a peasant from his birth
His sire a hind born to the frail & plough
To thump the corn out & to till the earth
The coarsest chance which natures laws alow
To earn his living by a sweating brow
Thus lubins early days did rugged roll
& mixt in timley toil—but een as now
Ambitions prospects fird his little soul
& fancy soard & sung bove povertys controul

125

5

Small joy to him was childhoods tempting tricks
Which schoolboys look for in their vacant hours
Wi other boys he little card to mix
Joy left him lonly in his awthorn bowers
As haply binding up his notts of flowers
Or list'ning unseen birds to hear em sing
Or gazing down ward where the runnel pours
Thro the mossd brig in many a wirling ring
How woud he muse oer all on pleasures fairy wing

6

The ‘I spye’ haloo & the marble ring
& many a game that infancy employs
The spinning top wird from the twitching string
The boastfull jump of strong exulting boys
Their sports their pastimes all their pleasing toys
We leave unsung—tho much such rural play
Woud suit the theme—yet theyre no lubins joys
Truth breaths the song in lubins steps to stray
Thro woods & fields & plains his solitary way

7

Nature lookd on him wi a witching eye
Her pleasing scenes was his delightful book
Where he while other louts gaumd heedless bye
Wi wild enthusi[a]sm us'd to look

126

The king cup vale the gravel paved brook
Was paradise wi him to muse among
& haply sheltering in some lonley nook
Woud sit him down to see it purl along
& fird wi what he saw hum oer full many a song

8

As how the vales & shades did please his sight
As how the wind breathd music thro each bough
As how in rural charms he did delight
To mark the shepherds folds & swains at plough
& pasture speckt wi sheep & horse & cow
& many a beauty that does intervene
The steeple peeping oer the woods dark brow
While many a young hope popt its smile between
& wishd mans days to spend in some such peaceful scene

9

Each opening season & each opening scene
On his wild view still teemd wi fresh delight
Een winters storms to him have Welcome been
That brought him comfort in its long dark night
As joyful listning while the fire burnt bright
Some neighbouring laboure[r]s superstitious tale
How ‘Jenny burnt a-se’ wi her wisp alight
To drown a nighted traveller once did fail
By knowing well the brook that wimperd down the vale

127

10

& haunted tales which village legends fill
As true as gospel revealations told
Of narrow lane & wood & lonly hill
& ruins where a castle stood of old
How many a nighted man did there behold
Ghosts wi out heads & dismal shrieks did hear
Of secret murder done & hidden gold
Wanting to wisper in the peasants ear
& oft he looses much by harbouring foolish fear

11

For gohsts neer spake unless theyre spoken too
So 'stitious faith in her ghost creeds pretends
& had the hind a heart to thus pursue
He might come in for ‘money wi out end’
Or bring to light some murder still unkend
That justice might revenge & peacful lay
The wandering sprite whose hauntings then will end
Thus lubin swallowd all they had to say
While each long winters night pass'd unpercievd away

12

& tales of fairy land he lovd to hear
Those mites of human form like skimming bees
That flye & flirt about but every where
The fly like tribes of nights un'scerning breeze
That thro a lock hole even creep wi ease
The freaks & stories of this elfin crew
Ah lubin gloried in such things as these
How they rewarded industry he knew
& how the restless slut was pinched black & blue

128

13

How ancient dames a faries anger feard
From gossips stories lubin often heard
How they but every night the hearthstone cleard
& gen their visits all things neat prepard
As fays nought more then cleanliness regard
When in the morn they never faild to share
Or gold or silver as their meet reward
Dropt in the water superstitions care
To make the charm succeed had cautious placed there

14

& thousands such the village keeps alive
Beings that people superstitious earth
That ere in rural manners will survive
So long as wild rusticity has birth
To spread their wonders round the cottage hearth
On lubins mind oft deeply they imprest
Oft fear forbid to share his neighbours mirth
& long each tale by fancy newly drest
Brought faireys in his dreams & broke his infant rest

15

He had his dreads & fears & scarce coud pass
A church yards dreary mounds at silent night
But footsteps trampld thro the rustling grass
& ghosts hind grave stones 'peard in sheets of white

129

Dread monsters fancy moulded on his sight
Soft woud he step lest they his tread shoud hear
& crept & crept till past his wild afright
Then on winds wings woud rally as it where
So swift the wild retreat of childhoods fancyd fear

16

& when fear left him on his corner seat
Much woud he chatter oer each dreadful tale
Tell how he heard the sound of 'proaching feet
& warriors gingling in their coats of mail
& lumping nocks as one woud lump a pail
Of spirits cunjourd in the charnel floor
& many a mournful shriek & hapless wail
Where maids self murderd their false loves deplore
—& from that time woud vow to tramp a nights no more

17

O who can speak his joys when springs young morn
From wood & pasture opend on his view
When tender green buds blush upon the thorn
& the first primrose dips its leaves in dew
Each varied charm how joyd woud he pursue
Oer yellow furze clad heath & val[e] & lawn
Tempted to trace their beautys thro the day
Grey girdl'd eve & rosey wreathed morn
Have both beheld him on his lonley way
Far far remote from boys & their unpleasing play

130

18

Sequesterd nature was his hearts delight
Him woud she lead thro wood & lonly plain
Searching the pooty from the rushey dyke
& while the thrush sung her long silencd strain
He thought it sweet & mockt it oer again
& while he pluckt the primrose in its pride
He ponderd oer its bloom tween joy & pain
& a rude sonnet in its praise he tryd
Where natures simple way the aid of art supplyd

19

The fresh'n'd lanscapes round his routs unfurld
The fine tingd clouds above the woods below
Each met his eye a new revealing world
Delighting more as more he learnd to know
Each journey sweeter musing too & fro
Surrounded thus a paradise as sweet
Enthusiasm made his soul to glow
His heart wi wild sensations usd to beat
As nature seemly sung his mutterings usd repeat

20

Upon a molehill oft he dropt him down
To take a prospect of the circling scene
Marking how much the cottage roofs thatch brown
Did add its beauty to the budding green

131

Of sheltering trees it humbly pe[e]pt between
The waggon rumbling oer the stoney ground
The windmills sweeping sails at distance seen
& every scene that crowds the circling round
Where the skye stooping seems to kiss the meeting ground

21

& dear to him the rural sports of may
When each cot threshold mounts its hailing bough
& ruddy milk maids weave their garlands gay
Upon the green to crown the earliest cow
When mirth & pleasure wears its joyful brow
& joins the tumult wi unbounded glee
The humble tenants of the pale & plough
He lovd ‘old sports’ by them revivd to see
But never card to join in their rude revellry

22

Oer brook banks stretching on the pasture ground
He gazd far distant from the jocund crew
Twas but their feats that claimd a slight regard
Twas his his pastimes lonly to pursue
Wild blossoms creeping in the grass to view
Scarce peeping up the tiney bent as high
Betingd wi glossy yellow red or blue
Unnamd unoticd but by lubins eye
That like low genius sprang to bloom their day & dye

132

23

O who can tell the sweets of maydays morn
To waken rapture in a feeling mind
When the gilt east unveils its dappld dawn
& the gay wood lark has its nest resignd
As slow the sun creeps up the hill behind
Morn reddning round & day lights spotless hue
As seemly sweet wi rose & lily lind
While all the prospect round beams fair to view
As the sweet opening flower wi its unsullied dew

24

Ah often brushing thro the dripping grass
Has he been seen to catch this early charm
Listning the ‘love song’ of the healthy lass
Passing wi milk pail on her well turnd arm
Or meeting objects from the rousing farm
The gingling plough teams droving down the steep
Waggon & cart—& shepherd dogs alarm
Raising the bleatings of unfolding sheep
As oer the mountain top the red sun gin to peep

25

Nor coud the days decline escape his gaze
He lovd the closing as the rising day
& oft woud stand to catch her setting rays
Whose last beams stole not unpercievd away

133

When hesitating like a stag at bay
The bright unwearied sun seemd loath to drop
Till chaos night hounds hurried him away
& drove him headlong from the mountain top
& shut the lovly scene & bid all nature stop

26

With contemplations stores his mind to fill
O doubly happy woud he roam as then
As the blue eve crept deeper round the hill
While the coy rabbit venturd from his den
& weary labour sought its rest agen
Lone wanderings led him haply by the stream
Where unpercievd he joyd his hours at will
Musing the cricket twittering oer its dream
Or watching oer the brook the moon lights da[n]cing beam

27

& here the rural muse might aptly say
As sober even sweetly siles along
As how she chasd black ignorance away
& warmd his artless soul wi' feelings strong
To teach his reed to warble forth a song
As how it echod on the even gale
All by the brook the pasture flowers among
But ah such trifles are of no avail
Theres few to notice him or hear his simple tale

134

Lubins Song

He sung of the seasons he sung of the day
As soon as the morning is known
To wipe the black curtains of night time away
& show the red fringe of her own
O sweet was the scene neath its dew drop[p]ing dye
O sweet was each object that courted the eye
& he sung how the cock labours slumbers unseald
& hastnd her tenants to toil in the field

Enrapturd as he sung
He markt the mellow swell
How sweet the early notice rung
From mornings tolling bell
& on his ears how soft & sweet
The cows did low & sheep did bleat
& on the waking gales
How maids sung oer their pales
& markt too in his ryhmes
How musical betimes
From mowers wetting sycthe in meadow ground
Came murmring oer the ear a sharp shill tinkling sound
& the long day how labour wore away
How swains & maidens mixt to make the hay
The sun burnt beauty wi her ruddy face
How coy she seemd to shun each rude embrace
But when unseen behind a cock of hay
Or smutty even round their armours fell
Was known to stay behind wi chaps to play
To kiss & toy & likd it monstrous well
& somthing more then what his songs dare say

135

& the departing day he sat & sung
How the sun reddnd ere it left the eye
How it enlargd & like a huge ball hung
Seemly on nothing in the dripping skye
Till all at once it hurried from the sight
Behind the dim seen wood or misty mountains height
Nor sunk unseen its last expiring beam
That faintly shone & dyd upon the stream
He markt too on his seat how sweet did creep
The wimpering waters oer each pebly swell
Soft as a nurse song oer the infants sleep
He lovd its murmurs well

29

& lubin had his lamentable tale
His songs oft bitterd wi the ways of woe
For lubins self was nursd in sorrows vale
& early learnd the ills of life to know
From pain & toil & poverty that flow
So copiously in lifes low humble sphere
Oft woud his feelings meet the poor mans woe
Oft woud he sigh the beggars wants to hear
& pity all she coud woud drop a tender tear

Lubins sigh For the pauper

[30]

One winters morn bent oer his prop[p]ing stick
A poor man met me on the rhymey lea
Weak was he worn wi years & faint & sick
The beggar seemd—alas no beggar he

136

When he gun tell his mournfull history
Misfortunes hand had brought its victim low
Thrice happy thou who no misfortunes see
His looks was hagged but they plain did show
It once were his hard fate some kinder days to know

[31]

O weak & bad I am the old man sed
His wooly locks the while wi ryhme enrolld
If I must perish for the wants of bread
I cannot work it is so bitter cold
I stood the winter once but now am old
Ah child he said thou mayst enquire the cause
My griefs are many but are easy told
Wert thou my age thou neednt stand to pause
& blest woud be thy lot to know no parish laws

[32]

Far better days I might to memry fetch
When I coud boast of strength to mow & reap
But all my joy was in misfortunes reach
Im crippld now & little use to weep
God knows affliction tho it pricks me deep
When thoughts look back—but what is past is past
Twas mine of woe instead of joy to reap
& now thou seest mans wreck reducd at last
On whom age woe & want combind pour down a double blast

[33]

My storys short & easily explaind
When I was young like thee the world was sweet
Health flusht the cheek which grief had never staind
& pleasure strewd her flowers beneath my feet

137

& joys when manhood came needs no repeat
I then was strong ah strength—loves worth endears
In every master then a friend to meet
But who can harken wi out shedding tears
To poor mans wants & woes in ages helpless years

[34]

When labour scarce its barley crust supplies
Worn to its latest feeblest thread like mine
When forcfull want on brutish aid relys
(O loath were I my labour to resign)
When far worse pains I meet then pain to pine
When tottering limbs by age & toil brought down
No pity meets—O may nor thee nor thine
Know the sad anguish of a parish frown
To be like me lost wretch beholden to a town

35

As most of natures children prove to be
His little soul was easy made to smart
His tear was quickly born to sympathy
& soon was rousd the feelings of his heart
In others woes & wants to bear a part
Yon parish huts where want is shuvd to dye
He never viewd em but his tear woud start
He past not by the doors wi out a sigh
& felt but every woe of workhouse misery

36

O poverty thy frowns was early dealt
On him who mournd thee not by fancy led
To whine & wail oer woes he never felt
Staining his ryhmes wi tears he never shed

138

& heaving sighs a mock song only bred
Alas he knew too much of every pain
That showrd full thick on his unshelterd head
& as his tears & sighs did erst complain
His numbers took it up & wept it oer again

37

Full well might he [h]is early days recall
When he a thresher wi his seive has been
When he a ploughboy in the fields did maul
& drudgd wi toil thro a'most every scene
How pincht wi winters frownings he has been
& tell of all that modesty consceals
Of all his friends & he has felt & seen
But usless naming what distress reveals
As every child of want feels all that lubin feels

38

It might be curious too to hint the lad
How in his earliest days he did apear
Mean was the dress in which the boy was clad
His friends so poor & clo'hs excessive dear
They oft were foild to rig him once a year
& huswifes care in many a patch was seen
Much industry gen want did presevere
His friends tryd all to keep him neat & clean
Tho care has often faild & shatterd oft hes been

139

39

Yet oft fair prospects cheerd his parents dreams
Who had on lubin founded many a joy
But pinching want soon baffld all their schemes
& draggd him from the school a hopless boy
To shrink unheeded under hard employ
When struggling efforts warmd him up the while
To keep the little toil coud not destroy
& oft wi books spare hours he woud beguile
& blunderd oft wi joy round crusoes lonly isle

40

Folks much may wonder how the thing may be
That lubins taste shoud seek refined joys
& court the 'chanting smiles of poesy
Bred in a village full of strife & noise
Old sensless gossips & blackguarding boys
Ploughmen & threshers whose discourses led
To nothing more then labours rude employs
'Bout work being slack & rise & fall of bread
& who were like to dye ere while & who were like to wed

140

41

Houswives discoursing bout their hens & cocks
Spin[n]ing long stories wearing half the day
Sad deeds bewailing of the prowling fox
How in the roost the thief had knawd his way
& made their market profits all a prey
& other losses too the dames recite
Of chick & duck & gosling gone astray
All falling prizes to the swopping kite
& so the story runs its round both morning noon & night

42

Nor sabath days no better thoughts instill
The true going churchman hears the signal ring
& takes his book his homage to fulfill
& joins the clerk his amen task to sing
& rarley home forgets the text to bring
& soon as service ends he gins agen
Bout signs in weather late or forward spring
Of prospects good or bad in growing grain
& if the parsons speech be long they wait its end wi pain

141

43

A more uncoothly lout was hardly seen
Beneath the shroud of ignorance then he
The sport of all the village has he been
Who wi his simple looks oft jested free
& gossips gabbling oer their cake & tea
Time a'ter time did prophesies repeat
How half a ninney he was like to be
To go so soodling up & down the street
& shun the playing boys when ere they chancd to meet

44

When summer reignd how eager has he sped
Where silence reignd & the old crowned tree
Bended its sheltering ivy oer his head
& summer breezes breathing placidly
Encroachd upon the stock doves privacy
Parting the leaves that screend her russet breast
‘Peace’ woud he wisper ‘dread no thief in me’
& never rose to rob her carless nest
Compassions softness reignd & warmd his gentle breast

45

& he woud trace the stagnant pond or lake
Where flags sprung up or water lillies smild
& wipe the boughs aside of bush & brake
& creep the woods wi sweetest scenes beguild

142

Tracking some channel on its journey wild
Where dripping bluebells on the bank did weep
O what a lovley scene to natures child
Through roots & oer dead leaves to see it creep
Watching on some mossd stump in contemplation deep

46

Twas pleasing too when meadows browning swath
Neath sultry sunbeams witherd on the lea
To mark the ploughboys at their sunday bath
When leisure left em at their wading free
In some clear pit hemd round wi willow tree
& bush & brake to screen the dabblers grew
Tho bashful milkmaids coudnt help but see
& doubtless blushing by the naked crew
Their bosoms might be warmd to wish a nearer view

47

& he woud mark in Julys rosey prime
Crossing the meadows how a namless flye
O[f] scarlet plumage puntual to its time
Percht on a flower woud always meet his eye
& plain drest butter flye of russet dye
As if a wakend by the scythes shill sound
Soon as the bent wi ripness gan to dye
Was constant with him in each meadow ground
Flirting the withering swath & unmown blossom round

143

48

No inscet scapt him from the gaudy plumes
Of dazzling butterflyes so fine to view
To the small midgen that at evening comes
Like dust spots dancing oer the waters blue
Or where the spreading oak above head grew
Tormenting maidens neath their kicking cow
Who often murmurs at the elfin crew
& spoils their gambols wi a switching bough

49

& he has markt the curious stained rings
Tho seemly nothing in anothers eye
& bending oer em thought em wonderous things
Where nurses night fays circling dances hie
& set the cock to watch the mornings eye
Light soon betrays em where their routs has been
Their printing foot marks leave a magic dye
The grass grows gloomy in a darker green
& look for years to come & still the place is seen

50

& as the clining day his stalking shade
A jiant monster stretcht in fancys view
What bustle to his cottage has he made
Ere sliving night around his journey threw

144

Her circling curtains of a grizly hue
& on the rings the fairy routs displayd
From gossips wisdom much he gleand & knew
Who told him haunts for ghosts as well as fays
& what quere things were seen in grannys younger days

51

His song might tremble wi the haunted pond
& tell of terrors which his heart has found
How he to 'scape shoold many a pace beyond
Each dreaded dangerous spot of Haunted ground
Here as he passt where amys woes were drownd
If late at night his fears woud turn him chill
If nought was seen he heard a squish squash sound
As when ones shoes drencht in water will
& wet & dripping he oft see her climb the hill

52

& round his fields lay many a spot to dread
Twoud note a history down to note em all
Oft monsters have been seen wi out a head
& market men oft got a dangerous fall
When startld horses saw the sweeping pall
On the cross roads where love lorn luce was lain
At other spots like offsprings of old ‘ball’
As such full oft by 'staken ploughmen taen
A shagged foal will fright the early rising swain

145

& lubins fields had spots for wizard fame
Full oft hes heard the ploughing chaps declare
How in the shape of ‘Straws theve playd their game’
Till in white larder sweated horse or man
How beesom sticks went hurtling thro the air
Trays too coud not stan' quiet on the moore
& sheep cribs oft have been there coaches there
Still nurses have a spell they cant get oer
& oft the horse shoes seen naild on the village door

53

In autumn time how oft hes stood to mark
What tumults tween the hogs & geese arose
Down the corn litterd street & the rude bark
Of jealous watch dog on his masters clo'hs
Een rousd by quawkings of the swopping crows
& every tinkle in that busy toil
In sultry field & dusty lane that flows
He gleand his corn & lovd to list the while
For lubins self was mixt to share of autumns spoil

54

& when old women overpowrd by heat
Tuckt up their tails & sickend at the toil
Seeking beneath the thorn the mole hill seat
To tell their tales & catch their breath awhile
Their gabbling talk did lubins cares beguile
& some woud tell their tales & some woud sing
& many a dame to make the children smile
Woud tell of many a funny laughing thing
While merrily the snuff box charm went pinching round the ring

146

55

Here lubin listn'd wi a struck supprise
When hickerthrifts great strength has met his ear
How he killd jiants as they were but flies
& lifted trees as one woud lift a spear
& not much bigger then his fellows where
He knew no troubles waggoners have known
Of getting stalld & such dissasters drear
Up hed chuck sacks as one woud hurl a stone
& draw whole loads of grain unaided & alone

56

& goodys sympathy woud fetch the tear
From each young listner seated by her side
When cruel barbary allen they did hear
The haughty stubbornness of female pride
To that fond youth who broke his heart & dyd
& jack the jiant killers tales shed say
Which still the same enchanting power supplyd
The stagnant tear amazment wipd away
& jacks exploits were felt for many an after day

57

These were such tales as lubin did delight
But shoud the muse narate in goodys strain
& tell of all she told from morn till night
Fays ghosts & jiants woud her songs detain

147

& be at days return resumd again
Wi cinderella she has charmd awhile
Then Thumbs dissasters gev a moments pain
Thus true thought legends woud each soul beguile
As superstition willd to raise the tear or smile

58

& as the load joggd hom ward down the lane
When welcome night shut out the toiling day
His followings markt the simple hearted swain
Joying to listen on his homward way
As rests warm rapture rousd the rustics lay
The thread bare ballad from each quavering tongue
As ‘peggy bond’ or the ‘sweet month of may’
As how he joyd to hear each ‘good old song’
That on nights pausing ear did echo loud & strong

59

The muse might sing too for he well did know
The freaks & plays that harvest home doth end
How the last load is crownd wi boughs & how
Wi floating ribbons diznd at their end
The swains & maids wi fork & rake attend
& how the children on the load delight
Wi shouts of harvest home their throats to rend
& how the dames peep out to mark the sight
& all the feats that crown the harvest supper night

148

60

He knew all well a young familiar there
& often lookd on all for he him sen
Mixt wi the sun tand group the feast to share
As years rolld round him wi the change agen
& brought the masters equals wi their men
Who pusht the beer about & smoakd & drank
Wi freedoms plenty never shown till then
Nor labourers dard but now so free & frank
To laugh & joke & play so many an harmless prank

61

Much has he laughd each rude rude act to see
The long neckt sheet clad crane to poke about
Spoiling each smokers pipe & cunningly
Tho blindfold seen to pick each bald head out
& put each bashful maiden to the rout
The ‘firey parrot’ too a laughing scene
Where two maids on a sheet invite the lout
Thrown oer a watertub to sit between
& as he drops they rise & let him swearing in

62

The ‘dusty miller’ playing many a rig
& the ‘scotch pedlars’ wi their jokes & fun
The ‘booted hogs’ drove over ‘lunnon brig’
Boys who had mischief in the harvest done
As loads oerturnd & foul on posts had run
& brandy burning ghosts most deadly blue
That each old woman did wi terror shun
These wi the rest did lubin yearly view
& joind his mirth & fears wi the low vulgar crew

149

63

To close the ranting night the masters health
Went round in bumping horns to every swain
Who wisht him best of crops to 'crease his wealth
&'s merry sport when harvest came again
& all i' chorus rallyd out amain
& soons the song (a tugging pull) begun
Each ere its end the brimming horn must drain
Or have it filld again—there lay the fun
Till hodge went drunk to bed & morts of things wer done

64

O dear to lubin autumns changing cloud
Where shade & sunshine every minute sees
& each rude risen tempest beetling loud
Ownd every murmur his wild ear to please
Sueing its vengance thro the yellow trees
Pattering the acorns from their cups adown
Fanning the sear leaf far upon the leas
& picturesque to him each scrambling clown
Tearing the woods among to search the nut bunch brown

65

How woud he wander round the woods the plains
When every flower from natures wreath had fled
Tracing the shower bedimpld sandy lanes
& winding fountains to their infant bed
Wi many a flag & rushy bunch bespread
Marking each curdle boil & boil away
& bubbles guggling born that swelld & fled
Like changing scenes in lifes empherion day
Thus lubin pausd & cheerd his solitary way

150

66

A Solitair thro autumns wan decay
He heard the tuteling robin sound her knell
'Serv'd the coy sun more shoy to slink away
& lingering oak shade how it brownd & fell
& many a way of nature he coud tell
That still are secrets to un'scerning eyes
As how the bee most carful closd her cell
How mice wi far fetchd ear their hole supplies
& moles root deeper down from winters frowning skies

67

& he coud tell as how the squirrel far'd
Who often stood its busy toils to see
How he gen winters wants were well prepard
Wi many a store in hollow root or tree
As if bin told how winters wants woud be
Its nuts & acorns he woud often find
& hips & hawes too heaped plentiously
In snug warm corner that broke off the wind
Wi leafy nest made nigh that warm green mosses lind

68

Twas thus his fond enquirey usd to trace
Thro natures secrets wi unwear[i]ed eye
& watch the shifting seasons changing grace
Springs first wild flower & summers painted sky

151

The inscet creeping & the birds that flye
The autumns dying breeze the winter wind
That bellowd round his hut most mournfully
& as his years increasd his taste refind
& fancy wi new charms enlightnd up his mind

69

Beauty gan look too witching on his eye
The sweetest image seen in natures glass
A swelling bosom neath its lilly dye
Wi out admiring lubin coudnt pass
& down cast eye & blush of shanny lass
Had every power his heart to hold in thrall
—O beautious woman still thy charms surpass
In spite of all thy failings & thy fall
Thou art the comfort still that charms this earthly ball

70

Sure twas an over sight in natures plan
Such lovliness that claims the tenderest care
Left thus defencless wi ungratfull man
Such hardnd brutes as but too many are
O pleasing flowers as frail as ye are fair
Sure some that lives have souls to feel & sigh
When shrinking neath the storms ye cannot bear
Your beautious buds bow down to fade & dye
While not one pitying tear melts your seducers eye

71

Full oft to see these witcheries divine
Hed mix in circles where their charms did grace
& merry routs he now began to join
& tho his heart denyd to own its case

152

It oft were smitten wi a beauty face
& throbbd wi thrilling agravating pain
& many a long long day has taken place
Ere he forgot & met his peace again
While oft in beautys praise the while he hummd full many a strain

72

He knew the manners too of merry rout
Statute & feast his village yearly knew
& glorious revels too wi out a doubt
Such pastimes were to hob & nat & sue
Milkmaids & clowns that statute joys pursue
& rattle of[f] like hogs to lunon mart
Weary of old they seek for places new
Where men hail maidens wi a frothing quart
& hodge wi sweet heart fixt forgets his plough & cart

73

Where cakes & nuts & ginger bread & all
Tempt clowns to buy & far more tempting still
Where shining ribbons dizen out the stall
& wenches drag poor sheepish bob or bill
Some long long dallied promise to fulfill
New wreath or bow for sunday cap to buy
‘If yah set any store by one yah will’
Each strings his purse & makes me no reply
But thinks returns at night will suit for clowns are smuttly sly

153

74

& there the ballad singers rave & rant
& hodge whose pockets wornt stand treats more high
Hears which his simpering lass may please to want
& brushing thro' the crowd most manfully
Outs wi his pence the pleasing song to buy
& crams it in her hand wi many a smile
The trifling present makes the maid comply
To promise him her company the while
& strutting by her side at night he hands her oer the stile

75

While the poor sailor wi his hat in hand
Hops thro the crowd that wonerfully stares
To hear him talk of things in foreign land
Bout thundering cannons & most bloody wars
& as he stops to show his seamy scars
Pity soon meets the ploughmans penny then
The sailor heartfelt thankfulness declares
‘God blesses’ all & stiles em gentlemen
& sobs his money up well pleasd & gins his tale agen

76

Heres ‘civil will’ too wi his ‘pins’ & ‘pegs’
& he makes glorious fun among the chaps
‘Boys miss my pegs’ he cries ‘& hit my legs
‘My timbers well can stand your gentle taps’

154

Tho sure enough he gets most ugly raps
For here the rustic thinks the sports abound
Whose aim at ‘civils’ legs his fellow caps
Meets most applause—still ‘poor will’ stans his ground
‘Boys throw your copper salve’ he cries & make another wound

77

But soldiers theyre the boys to make the rout
Wi boasting bottle brimd wi jin or rum
The high crownd cap wi ribbons hung about
The tuteling fife & hoarse rap tapping drum
Lud clowns are almost mad where ere they come
Theyre like so many kings mong country folk
Their beer they push like water round the room
Who will & welcome there may drink & smoke
Tho Chaps has often found they even sell a joke

78

The bumptious serjan strouts before his men
& ‘clear the road young wopstraws’ will he say
& look as big as if king george him sen
& wield his sword around to make away

155

Wi lace & ribbons diznd out so gay
So flashing smart—full oft as wells the swain
The tempted maid his finery does betray
Who leaves poor slighted hodge behind in pain
& many a chiding dame to sorrow & complain

79

& lubin heard the echo rabbld fight
When men & maids were hird & sports did close
As wenches lookt their sweethearts up at night
& found 'em drunk bedeckt wi soldiers clo'hs
As they woud pull & scold great tumults rose
The serjants honour totterd terribly
The womens threatnings hardly scapd wi blows
—Theyd box his cap about his ears if he
Gave not the contest up & set the prisoner free

80

Some homward bound were coupld maid & swain
& dick from dolly now for gifts did sue
Hed gave her ribbons & he deemd again
Some kind return as nothing but his due
& he told things that ploughmen little knew
Of bleeding hearts & pains—she seizd the spell
& tho at first she murmurd bout the dew
Spoiling the sunday gown—he talkd so well
She gave the contest up at last to what no words dare tell

156

81

The statute namd each servants day of fun
The village feast next warms the muses song
Tis lubins sphere a threshers lowly son
Tho little usd to mix such routs among
Such fitting subjects to the theme belong
As rural landscapes destitute of trees
Woud doubtlessly be fancied painted wrong
& lowly rural subjects such as these
Must have its simple ways & feats diserning eyes to pleas[e]

82

The lovly morn in Julys blushes rose
That brought the yearly feast & holliday
When villagers put on their bran new clo'ths
& milk maids drest like any ladies gay
Threw ‘cotton drabs’ & ‘worsted hoes’ away
& left their pails unscourd well pleasd I ween
To join the dance where gipsey fidlers play
Accompanyd wi thumping tambereen
From night till morning light upon the rushy green

83

Where the fond swain delighteth in the chance
To meet the sun tand lass he dearly loves
& as he leads her down the giddy dance
Wi many a token his fond passion proves
Squeezing her hands or catching at her gloves
& stealing kisses as chance prompts the while
Wi eye fixt on her as she gracful moves
To catch if such fond ways does her beguile
When happily her heart confesses in a smile

157

84

O rural love as spotless as the doves
No wealth gives fuel to a borrowd flame
To prompt the shepherd where to chuse his loves
& go a forger of that sacred name
Both hearts in unison here beat the same
Here nature makes the choice which love inspires
Far from the wedded lord & haughty dame
This boon of heavenly happiness retires
Not felon like law bound but wedded in desires

85

The woodman & the thresher now is found
Mixing & making merry wi his friends
Childern & kin from neighbouring towns around
Their humble banquet at the feast attends
For such to nought of costliness pretends
Yet somthing more then common they provide
& the good dame her small plumb pudding sends
To sons & daughters thats in service tyd
Wi many a cordial gift of good advice beside

86

Tis pleasing then to view the cotters cheer
To mark his gentle & his generous mind
How free he is to push about his beer
& wells he knows wi ceremony kind
Bids help 'em selves to such as they may find
Tells em theyre welcome as the flowers in may
& full of merimental cheer inclind
Drinks healths & sings when suppers cleard away
& hopes they all may meet on next years holiday

158

87

& then for sake o's boys & wenches dear
Gi[e]s leave a dancing in his hut shall be
While he sits smoaking in his elbow chair
As pleasd as punch his childern round to see
Wi each a sweet heart frisking merrily
‘God bless ye all’ quoth he & drinks his beer
‘My boys & wenches yere a pride to me
‘But lead an honest life—no matter where
‘& do as I have done & yell have nought to fear’

88

‘To bring ye up, from toil I never flincht
‘Or faild to do the thing thats just & right
‘Yer mother knows our selves weve often pincht
‘To fill yer bellies & to keep ye tight
‘May god look down & bless ye all this night
‘May wives & husbands here that is to be
‘In stead o' sorrows prove yer hearts delight
‘Ive brought ye up expect no more from me
‘So take yer trundle now & good luck may ye see

89

Thus talkd the father to his pipe & beer
For those whom hed admonish were the while
Too occupyd in dancing him to hear
Yet still wi talk & beer he does beguile

159

His short releasment from his cares & toil
Till Sir Johns spirit stops his merry glee
& lays him quiet down—his children smile
Brakes up the dance & pays the fiddlers fee
& then till morn the lass he loves each swain pulls on his knee

90

& the long rural string of merry games
That at such outings maketh much ado
All wore to lubins skill familiar names
& he coud tell each whole performance thro
As pland & practisd by the jovial crew
—Great sport to them was jumping in a sack
For beaver hat bedeckt wi ribbons blue
Soon one bumps down as tho hed broke his neck
& 'nother tries to rise in vain & monstrous sport they mak'

91

& monstrous fun it makes to hunt the pig
As soapt & larderd thro the rout he flies
Thus turnd a drift he plays em many a rig
A pig for catching o'ts a wondrous prize
& every lout to do his utmost tries
Some snap the ear & some the tunkey tails
But still his slippery hide all hold denies
While old men tumbld down sore hurt bewails
& boys bedaubd wi muck run home wi piteous tales

160

92

& badger baiting here & fighting cocks
But sports too barbarous these for lubins strains
& red facd wenches for the holland smocks
Oft puff & pant along the smooth green plains
Where hodge feels oft uncomfortable pains
To see his love lag hindmost i' the throng
& of unfairness on her side complains
& swears & fights the jawing chaps among
As in her part hed dye 'fore they his lass shoud wrong

93

& long eard racers famd for sport & fun
Oft 'pear this day to have their swiftness tryd
Where some wont start & ‘Dicks’ the race near won
Enarmourd of some ‘Jenny’ by his side
Forgets the winning post to court a bride
In vain [the] rout urge on the jocky clown
To lump his cudgel on his hardnd hide
Ass a'ter ass still hee-haws down the town
& in disgrace at last each jocky bumps adown

94

& then the noisey rout their sports to crown
Form round the ring superior strength to show
Where restlers join to tug each other down
& thrust & kick wi hardy vengfull blow
Till thro their worsted hoes the blood does flow
For ploughmen woudnt wish for higher fame
Then be the champion all the rest to throw
& thus to add such honours to his name
He kicks & tugs & bleeds to win the glorious game

161

95

& when the night draws on each mirthfull lout
The ale house seeks & sets it in a roar
& there while fidlers play they rant about
& call for brimming tankards froathing oer
For 'bacco smoke yed hardly see the door
No stint they make of 'bacco & of beer
While money lasts they shout about for more
Resolvd to keep it merry when its here
As toil comes every day & feasts but once a year

96

Wi village merriments digressd awhile
We'll now resume his native joys again
& aptly find him bending oer a stile
Or stretchd in sabbath musings on the plain
Looking around & humming oer a strain
Painting the foliage of the woodland trees
Listing a bird thats lost its nest complain
Noting the hummings of the passing bees
& all the lovly things his musings hears & sees

97

Where ling clad heaths & pastures now may spread
He oft has heard of castle & of hall
& oft curosity his steps hath led
To gaze on some old arch or fretting wall
Where ivy scrambles up to stop the fall
There woud he sit him down & look & sigh
& bye gone days back to his mind woud call
The bloody war[r]ing times of chivallry
When danes invading routs made unarmd britons flye

162

98

He lovd to view the mossy arched brigs
Bending oer wall or rail the pits or springs
Below to mark where willows dripping twigs
To summers silken zephers feeblest wings
Bent i' the flood & curvd its thousand rings
& where the sun beam twitterd on the walls
& nodding bulrush down its drowk head hings
& down the rock the shallow water falls
Wild fluttering thro the stones in feeble wimpering brawls

99

& oft wi shepherds leaning oer their hooks
Hed stand conjecturing on the ruins round
Tho little skilld in antiquated books
Their knowledge in such matters seemd profound
& they woud preach of what did once abound
Castles deep moated round old haunted hall
& somthing like to moats still swamps the ground
As neath old cromwells rage the towers did fall
& bush & ivy creeps the hill & ruin hides it all

100

& ancient songs hes hung enrapturd on
Which herdsmen on a hill has sat to sing
Bout feats of robin hood & little john
Whose might was feard by country & by king

163

Such strength had they to twich the thrumming string
Their darts oft suckt the life blood of the deer
& sherwood forest wi their horns did ring
Ah these where such that he did joy to hear
& these where such that warmd when antique scenes did 'pear

101

Thy moat o woodcroft & thy time bleachd towers
Whose hughe head over looks the level green
He oft has viewd em as he pluckt his flowers
King cup & daisey ah & joyd has been
To list the passing netherds tale between
An ancient story scores of years by gone
Perils thou met wi in thy early days
In cromwells time or doubtless rebel john
The times he were not leard to know but let the tale go on

Woodcroft Castle: The Netherds tale

1

The night in yon castle now lulls the clowns sleep
& returns him in peace to his plough
Tho the shepherd unskard sits in rest wi his sheep
& the maid sings her song neath her cow
There once was an hour a most terrible hour
When the shepherd & ploughmen has fled
When the centinel stood wi his gun at the door
& the maiden was scard from her bed

164

2

Tho now ducks & geese they do swim i' the moat
& the beast at their cribs left to feed
Tho the tower nows of no other use then a coat
For the pigeons to roost in & breed
There once was a day a most terrible day
When that moat it flowd bloody wi all
When the top of yon tower saw the midst of the fray
& the cannons made totter the wall

3

It might be when charles our unfortunate king
Was disdaind by each rebel out law
That one michael Hudson his soldiers did bring
To keep our low country in awe
Tho few trusty fellows there was in the land
To royalty he was a friend
& valiant as ever was sword put in hand
Or master on man might depend

4

This very old castle he came to comand
A staunch set of servants brought he
Ere theyd loose it by rebels theyd loose their right hand
Or their legs lopped off to their knee
They 'fended it stoutly & watchd at the gate
Where draw bridge there might be as then
& hudson I ween were up early & late
A watching the foe wi his men

165

5

Twas when dewy morn on the pasture did weep
From stamford the rebels did roam
Their tumults no doubt scamperd shepherds & sheep
& great rout they made as they come
They rallied thro helpstone ah helpstone I ween
Thou neer knew a rebel before
& great consternation no doubt thou wast in
As the marston chaps were on the moor

6

Ive heard gossips say when such news spread about
The maidens near fell into fits
& old women hearing the rebels were out
Was a'most scard out of their wits
The mizer tore slabs up & buried his coin
& granny she instantly fell
To hide what she thought the bold rogues woud purloin
Such as kettles & pots in the well

7

But surely if I had been then on the green
Employd (markd the herdsman) as now
Id took to my heels soon as rebels Id seen
& left em free choice of a cow

166

& doubtless the netherds might run—& the rout
Full easy came in for their prey
& as they flockt up to the castle no doubt
Thought its tenants as easy as they

8

But hudson soon let em to know they was wrong
As his brandishd sword threats did despise
He told em that conquest wa'n't made by a tongue
But swords cut the way to the prize
& instant the hot bloody battle begun
& hudson so heartnd his men
That the rebels repulsd stood on tiptoe to run
Tho numberd as thirty to ten

9

But vain are the swords & the deeds of the brave
When cowards wi numbers oerpower
As vain hopes the flye to scape fish on the wave
Or thistle down float in a shower
They forded the moat & thought conquest was bought
Ah then came the terrible hour
When the bold royal captives subdued as they thought
Pusht again from the top of the tower

10

Repulse so undaunted—the rebels dismayd
Offerd quarter for battle to end
& then was thy guardians o woodcroft betrayd
Ah who woud on cowards depend

167

The valiant comander was cowardly flung
From off the tower top by the foe
His hand they slashd off on the tower as he hung
& his body fell bleeding below

11

& one who had quakd coud he usd his right hand
As many at nelson has done
When he begd like a soldier to dye on dry land
Dashd him dead i the flood wi his gun
& this is the tale woud make any one weep
Bout the towers thou so often has seen
That neerll be forgot while a shepherd tends sheep
Or netherd keeps cows on the green

102

Thus did the swain the dismal tale relate
While lubins breast wi tenderest woes did bleed
Much did he sigh to hear the valiants fate
& marveld much that cruel wars shoud breed
So nigh his natal home the horrid deed
& soon the tale his wild research supplyd
Like artless maidens who romances read
Each ruind heap was castles now discryd
Were other hudsons bore comand & fought as brave & dyd

168

103

But who can tell the anguish of his mind
When reformations formidable foes
Wi civil wars on natures peace combind
& desolation struck her deadly blows
As curst improvment gan his fields inclose
O greens & fields & trees farwell farwell
His heart wrung pains his unavailing woes
No words can utter & no tongue can tell
When ploughs destroyd the green when groves of willows fell

104

There once was springs when daises silver studs
Like sheets of snow on every pasture spread
There once was summers when the crow flower buds
Like golden sunbeams brightest lustre shed
& trees grew once that shelterd lubins head
There once was brooks sweet wimpering down the vale
The brooks no more—king cup & daiseys fled
Their last falln tree the naked moors bewail
& scarce a bush is left around to tell the mournful tale

105

Yon flaggy tufts & many a rushy nott
Existing still in spite of spade & plough
As seemly fond & loath to leave the spot
Tells where was once the green—brown fallows now
Where lubin often turns a saddnd brow
Marks the stopt brook & mourns oppresions power
& thinks how once he waded in each slough
To crop the yellow ‘horse blobs’ early flower
Or catch the ‘millar thumb’ in summers sultry hour

169

106

There once was days the wood man knows it well
When shades een echod wi the singing thrush
There once was hours the ploughmens tale can tell
When mornings beauty wore its earliest blush
How woodlarks carrold from each stumpy bush
Lubin himself has markd em soar & sing
The thorns are gone the woodlarks song is hush
Spring more resembles winter now then spring
The shades are banishd all—the birds betook to wing

107

There once was lanes in natures freedom dropt
There once was paths that every valley wound
Inclosure came & every path was stopt
Each tyrant fixt his sign were pads was found
To hint a trespass now who crossd the ground
Justice is made to speak as they command
The high road now must be each stinted bound
—Inclosure thourt a curse upon the land
& tastless was the wretch who thy existance pland

108

O england boasted land of liberty
Wi strangers still thou mayst thy title own
But thy poor slaves the alteration see
Wi many a loss to them the truth is known
Like emigrating bird thy freedoms flown
While mongrel clowns low as their rooting plough
Disdain thy laws to put in force their own
& every village owns its tyrants now
& parish slaves must live as parish kings alow

170

109

Ye fields ye scenes so dear to lubins eye
Ye meadow blooms ye pasture flowers farwell
Ye banishd trees ye make me deeply sigh
Inclosure came & all your glories fell
Een the old oak that crownd yon rifld dell
Whose age had made it sacred to the view
Not long was left his childerns fate to tell
Where ignorance & wealth their course pursue
Each tree must tumble down—old ‘lea close oak’ adieu

110

Lubin beheld it all & deeply paind
Along the railed road woud muse & sigh
The only path that freedoms rights maintaind
The naked scenes drew pity from his eye
Tears dropt to mem'ry of delights gone bye
The haunts of freedom cowherds wattld bower
& shepherds huts & trees that tow[e]red high
& spreading thorns that turnd a summer shower
All captives lost & past to sad oppresions power

111

& oft wi shepherds he woud sit to sigh
On past delights of many a by gone day
& look on scenes now naked to the eye
& talk as how they once were clothed gay

171

& how the runnel wound its weedy way
& how the willows on its margin grew
Talk oer wi them the rural feats of may
Who got the blossoms neath the morning dew
That the last garland made & where such blossoms grew

112

As how he coud remember well when he
Laden wi blooming treasures from the plain
Has mixt wi them beneath a dotterel tree
Drove from his cowslips by a hasty rain
& heard em there sing each delightful strain
& how wi tales what joys they usd to wake
Wishing wi them such days woud come again
They lovd the artless boy for talking sake
& gave it out some future day a wondrous man hed make

113

& you ye poor ragd out casts of the land
That hug your shifting camps from green to green
He lovd to see your humble dwelling stand
& thought your groups did beautify the scene
Tho blamd for many a petty theft yeve been
Poor wandering souls to fates hard want decreed
Doubtless too oft such acts your ways bemean
& oft in wrong your foes 'gen you proceed
& brand a gipseys camp when others do the deed

172

114

Lubin woud love to list their gibberish talk
& view the oddity such ways display
& oft wi boys pursud his sunday walk
Where warpt the camp beneath the willows grey
& its black tennants on the green sward lay
While on two forked sticks wi cordage tyd
Their pot oer pilferd fuel boils away
Wi food of sheep that of red water dyd
Or any nauceous thing their frowning fates provide

115

Tho oft they gather money by their trade
& on their fortune telling art subsist
Where her long hurded groat oft brings the maid
& secret slives it in the sybils fist
To buy good luck & happiness—to list
What occupys a wenches every thought
Who is to be the man—while as she wist
The gipsies tale wi swains & wealth is fraught
The lass returns well pleasd & thinks all cheaply bought

116

Full oft in summer lubins markt & seen
How eagerly the village maids pursue
Their sunday rambles where the camps have been
& how they gi' their money to the crew

173

For idle stories they believe as true
Crossing their hands wi coin or magic stick
How quakt the young to hear what things they knew
While old experiencd dames knew all the trick
Who said that all their skill was borrowd from old nick

117

& thus the superstitious dread their harm
& neer dare fail relieving their distress
Lest they wi in their cot shoud leave a charm
To let nought prosper & bring on distress
Great depth of cunning gipseys do posses
& when such weakness in a dame they find
Forsooth they prove most terryfying guess
& tho not one to charity inclind
They mutter black revenge & force her to be kind

118

His native scenes o sweet endearing sound
Sure neer a heart does beat howere forlorn
But the warmd breast has soft emotions found
To cherish the dear spot where it was born
Een the poor hedger in the early morn
Chopping the pattering bushes hung wi dew
Scarce lays his mitten on a branching thorn
But painfull mem'ry banishd thoughts renew
Reminding when't was young what happy days he knew

174

119

When the old shepherd wi his wooly locks
Crosses the green past joys his eyes will fill
Where when a boy he usd to tend his flocks
Each fringed rushy bed & swelling hill
Where he has playd or stretchd him at his will
Freshning anew on lifes declining years
& jogs his memory wi their pleasures still
O how such things his native scenes endears
No spot throughout the world to him so pleasingly appears

120

The toil worn thresher in his little cot
Whose roof did shield his birth & still remains
His dwelling place how rough so ere his lot
His toil tho hard & small the wage he gains
That many a child most piningly mentains
Send him to distant scenes & better fare
How woud his bosom yearn wi parting pains
How woud he turn & look & linger there
& wish een now his cot & poverty to share

121

How dear to soldiers does the relic prove
Took from his cot or gave by loves sweet hand
A box that bears a motto of true love
How will he take his quid & musing stand

175

Think on his native lass & native land
& bring to mind all those past joys again
From which wild youth so foolish was trepand
Kissing the pledge that all these ways retain
While fancy points the spot far oer the barring main

122

O dear delightfull spots his native place
How lubin lookd upon the days gone bye
How he tho young woud past delights retrace
Bend oer gulld holes where stood his trees & sigh
Wi tears the while bemoistning in his eye
How hed look for the green a green no more
Mourning to scenes that made him no reply
Save the strong accents they in memory bore
‘Our scenes that charmd thy youth are dead to bloom no more’

123

O samely naked leas so bleak so strange
How woud he wander oer ye to complain
& sigh & wish he neer had known the change
To see the plough share bury all the plain
& not a cows lip on its lap remain
The rush tuft gone that hid the sky larks nest
Ah when will may morn hear such strains again
The storms beats chilly on his naked breast
No shelter grows to shield him now no home invites to rest

176

124

‘Ah’ woud he sigh ‘ye neath the churchyard grass
‘Ye sleeping shepherds coud ye rise again
‘& see what since your time has come to pass
‘See neer a bush nor willow now remain
‘Looking & listning for the brook in vain
‘Yed little think as such your natal scene
‘Yed little now distinguish field from plain
‘Or where to look for each departed green
‘All ploughd & buried now as tho there nought had been

125

But still they beamd wi beautys on his eye
& other scenes wa'n't half so sweet to view
& other flowers but strove in vain to vie
Wi his few tufts that scap'd the wreck & grew
& sky larks too their singing might pursue
To claim his praise—he coud but only say
Their songs were sweet but not like those he knew
That charmd his native plains at early day
Whose equals neer was found where ere his steps might stray

126

When distant village feast or noisey fair
Short abscence from his fields did him detain
How woud he feel when home he did repair
& mixt among his joys—the white spire fane

177

Meeting his eye above the elms again
Leaving his friends in the sweet summer night
No longer lost on unknown field or plain
Far from the pad wi well known haunts in sight
Hed stray for scatterd flowers wi added new delight

127

As travellers returnd from foreign ground
Feels more endearments for his native earth
So lubin cherishd from each weary round
Still warmer fondness for those scenes of mirth
Those plains & that dear cot which gave him birth
& oft this warmness for his fields hed own
Mixd wi his friends around the cottage hearth
Relating all the travels he had known
& that hed seen no spot so lovly as his own

128

Nor has his taste wi manhood ere declind
Yell now oft see him on his lonly way
Oer stile or gate in thoughtfull mood reclind
Or long the road wi folded arms to stray
Mixing wi autumns sighs or summer gay
& curious natures secrets to explore
Brushing the twigs of wood or copse away
To roam the lonely shade so silently
Sweet muttering oer his joys from clowns intrusions free

178

129

Ah who can tell the anxiousness of mind
As now he doth to manhoods cares aspire
The future blessings which he hopes to find
The wisht for prospects of his hearts desire
& how chill fear oft damps the glowing fire
& oer hopes sunshine spread a cloudy gloom
Yet foild & foild hopes still his songs inspire
& like the daisey on the cotters tomb
In mellancholy scenes he 'joys his cheerless bloom

130

He has his friends compard to foes tho few
& like a cornflower in a field of grain
Mong many a foe his wild weeds ope to view
& malice mocks him wi a rude disdain
Proving pretensions to the muse as vain
They deem her talents far beyond his skill
& hiss his efforts as some forged strain
But as hopes smile their tongues shall all be still
Een envy turns a friend when shes no power to kill

131

Ah as the traveller from the mountain top
Looks down on misty kingdoms spread below
& meditates beneath the steepey drop
What life & lands exist & oceans flow

179

How feign that hour the anxious soul woud know
Of all his eye beholds—but its in vain
So lubin eager views this world of woe
& wishes time her secrets woud explain
If he may live for joys to come or sink in welming pain

132

Fates close kept thoughts wi in her bosom hide
She is no gossip secrets to betray
Times steady movements must her end descide
& leave him painfull still to hope the day
& group thro ignorance his doubtful way
By wisdoms disregard & fools anoyd
& if no worth anticipates the lay
Then let his childish notions be destroyd
& he his time employ as erst its been employd

133

Thiss far intruded lubins tale shall close
Small joy wi whats to come to interfere
Where he in silent sorrow broods his woes
As manhoods painful prime approaches near
& drops on troubles its unheeded tear
Tho now & then may hope beguile his way
& the low muse his sleepless night may cheer
Ere while suffice it to renew the lay
When fortune finds him out in some far welcome day