University of Virginia Library

In a neat Cottage

In a neat Cottage hid from public View,
Within a Vally bounded by a Wood,
Near to the Coast, but distant from a Town,
With the kind Sister of a Mother dead
Dwelt a fair Damsel named Elizabeth.
From an expiring Mother's feeble Hand,
In holy Confidence, a sacred Trust
The Aunt receiv'd, and bore her to this Place.
There as a Parent, Governess & Friend,
She nurst and trained and led the little Maid,
In Peace to Virtue, & in Love to Knowledge;
Gave to her Mind the Riches of her own!
Corrected all that she perceiv'd Amiss!
Implanted Every Truth that she believed,
Fostered the new-born Virtue, and in Time
Spoke of God's Grace and taught the Soul to pray.
But of the Ways of social Life, the Good
And Evil, Dangers & Delights, the Charm
And Fascination of Society,
Save with that Mind whose Stores were made her own,
She nothing knew! The World was yet a Book
In a strange Language written, and the Guide,
When the Niece, eager and inquisitive!
Begged for One Page! said tenderly: “Forbear!
“Ask me not, Love, I read it not myself.”
The Persons whom Elizabeth beheld
Were a few Peasants from the neighbouring Green,
Farmers of Occupations small, and Wives
Of these small Farmers! who in modest Pride
Looked kindly down upon the Cottage Dames,
Wives to the Lads who laboured for the Farm.
To these we add the Vicar and his Wife,
A Man of Cambridge, but of him unseen
These 40 Years! & he would sometimes say,
Vapoured perhaps, or troubled for a Tax,
Or forced to take a twentieth for a Tithe,
Or when his Brother cast upon his Coat
A Look contemptuous, but with Pity blent!
Pride's Tenderness!: “I wish I had not seen.”—
He was an elder Son, whose Father sent
The Boy to Cambridge, & kept John at home.
And John in time was Tenant in the Farm,
And of its Stock the Owner. Dick must pay
For what it cost at College, & has paid,
For he is Vicar in the Place, where John
Is Lord! and governs as an Overseer.
But still he makes his Bow, & gives his Seat,
And says: “My Brother is a Learned Man!
“'Twas my poor Father's Pride, but he cd not
“Afford to make his John a Gentleman.
“Brother, my Service, we are getting poor;
“Come now, abate a little of your Tithe.”
Such the Companions of Elizabeth.
Here she resided, of the World she knew
What these could give—no more! Some pious books
Of solid practical Divinity,
Laid in a quiet Case! the Vicar lent
Monthly a Magazine, & Farmer John
A weekly Paper fraught with Country News.
But not this Reading, tho' she often read
And try'd to make Another's thoughts her own!
Not Conversation with her Village Friends,
Nor closer Converse with the dearer One,
Not the good Vicar's Piety or Pride,
When dwelling on ye Sermon of the Day!
Nor Song of Morning Bird nor, sweeter yet,
The varied Sweetness of the Bird of Night,
Nor these, nor aught of Nature she [?removed]
On Earth or in ye Waters, nor the Tribes
Of sportive Insects on the Wing, at Eve,
Soft but not silent! satisfied the Heart
That ever sought for that it never found!
It wanted something that was like itself,
But not itself! & in her devious Walks,
Or on the Heath, or by the rapid brook,
Not in the Path way! not within ye Wood,
Nor where a Bound was fixt, nor where ye feet
Of Numbers marked the Way! she chose her own,
But in her own she mus'd! & dared to think
Of Forms & Minds that she should love to know!
The Forms majestic with the noblest Mind,
Beauty & Courage! Tenderness & Grace,
Not without Splendour! in ye very Garb
And Grandeur in the Mein! & she would suit
Deeds to the Man! Elizabeth was young.
While thus she lived, & thought, & wish'd, & dreamt,
Her Aunt died Suddenly—
A large, lone House
Between the River & the Sea was named
“The Dolphin's Wreck”! Some 60 years had past,
Since that good Ship “The Dolphin” on ye Sand
Of that wild Shore was stranded! & the Plank
First formed a Shepherd's Lodge! And hence ye Name.
Strange Place for One who tended flocks! yet there
Were Marshes all around! from that rude Sea
To that wide River! & in Time One Man
Was ye Sole Tenant! In the narrow Farm
Between ye Wasty bounds for many a Mile
Bit the small hardy breed! And then arose
A more commodious Building! but ye Name
Was yet “The Dolphin's Wreck”! Within was heard,
In the soft Summer Night, the rimpled Waves
Roll on the sanded Shore! In Winter, floods!
When the full Moon upon the billowy Tide
Shone in her splendor fearfully! & ye Wind
Changed from ye South! unto the dread North-west,
Then from her Window looked Elizabeth,
For 'twas her Father's House, & she at home
Had found a Melancholy Mishap there!
There she beheld the troubled Waters rise!
And from her Bow-formed Window on ye West
Saw the broad Stream for many a Rood engulph
The salt short Herbage! Wider yet became
The Watry-waste! & billowy like the Sea!
So thought the Maid, but, turning to the Sea,
Thought that no Likeness to that dreadful Sight
Could the sad World present! above ye Ridge
Stoney & Steep, the giant Billows threw
Their foaming [?force]! & dreadful was ye Sight
Of clashing Waves as far as Eye could reach,
And sounds of blended Horror! as they raked
The rolling fleet far down ye lengthen'd Shore.
How trembled then ye Maid; it cd not be
But those wild Waters in their Strength would meet!
All would be Sea! &, like a stranded Ship!
Their House a Wreck! & all it held a Prey.