The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
 | I. |
 | II. |
PRAYER.
|
|
|
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
307
PRAYER.
ADDRESSED TO JOVE, THE GOD OF THUNDER, DURING THE LATE HOT WEATHER.
God of thunders, clouds and rain!
Hear, nor let us pray in vain;
In this sultry hot September,
Jove, thy worms of earth remember;
See us panting, blowing, sweating,
Chok'd with dust, fatigu'd with fretting;
Roasted up, as brown's potatoes,
Stung by flies, and curst musquetoes;
Sleepless nights, for ever turning;
Drench'd in sweat from night to morning;
Drinking grog to quench the fire,
Still the more we drink, the drier.
Hear, nor let us pray in vain;
In this sultry hot September,
Jove, thy worms of earth remember;
See us panting, blowing, sweating,
Chok'd with dust, fatigu'd with fretting;
Roasted up, as brown's potatoes,
Stung by flies, and curst musquetoes;
Sleepless nights, for ever turning;
Drench'd in sweat from night to morning;
Drinking grog to quench the fire,
Still the more we drink, the drier.
See our meadows, fields, and pastures,
Bare and brown as blist'ring plaisters;
See our melons, pears, and peaches,
Shrivelled up like skins of witches;
Streams and ponds, and creeks a-drying,
Millers groaning, fishes dying;
Frogs extended stiff as pokers,—
Dead, alas! are all the croakers;
Tenor, treble, bass and chorus,
Blood and wounds himself no more is.
Bare and brown as blist'ring plaisters;
See our melons, pears, and peaches,
Shrivelled up like skins of witches;
Streams and ponds, and creeks a-drying,
Millers groaning, fishes dying;
Frogs extended stiff as pokers,—
Dead, alas! are all the croakers;
Tenor, treble, bass and chorus,
Blood and wounds himself no more is.
See the clouds of dust ascending
O'er the burning road contending;
There, the wet and foaming steed,
Panting, lashed to cruel speed;
Feels in ev'ry vein the fires,
Staggers, tumbles, and expires.
O'er the burning road contending;
There, the wet and foaming steed,
Panting, lashed to cruel speed;
Feels in ev'ry vein the fires,
Staggers, tumbles, and expires.
See these strangers faint and sweating,
Landed from the shores of Britain;
(Blessèd shores! where temp'rate gales,
Health and verdure never fails;
Round whose airy cliffs, sea-driven,
Sweeps the purest breath of Heaven:)
See them clad in coats of woollen,
Panting for some shade to cool in;
Looking round with restless gaze,
Through the sultry, sick'ning blaze:
On each parchèd field they meet,
With'ring in the torrid heat,
With a sigh—that fate should lead 'em
To such burning shores of freedom.
Landed from the shores of Britain;
(Blessèd shores! where temp'rate gales,
Health and verdure never fails;
Round whose airy cliffs, sea-driven,
308
See them clad in coats of woollen,
Panting for some shade to cool in;
Looking round with restless gaze,
Through the sultry, sick'ning blaze:
On each parchèd field they meet,
With'ring in the torrid heat,
With a sigh—that fate should lead 'em
To such burning shores of freedom.
See our cits with tun-like bellies,
Melted down almost to jellies:
See our mowers, mason-tenders,
See our smiths, like salamanders;
See—but, gracious Pow'r, forgive us,
Thou see'st all, and can'st relieve us;
God of thunders, clouds, and rain,
Hear, nor let us pray in vain!
From the wat'ry western regions,
Call Thy clouds in gloomy legions:
Tow'ring, thick'ning, moving horrid,
O'er the day's affrighted forehead;
Swift athwart the low'ring deep,
Sudden let the lightning sweep;
Loud the bursting thunders roar,
Flashes blaze, and torrents pour;
Dark'ning, blazing, roaring, pouring—
Till this earth has got a scouring;
Till each stream, and creek, and current,
Swells and roars a raging torrent;
Till each freshen'd field, and every
Hill and dale, wear Nature's livery;
And cool buxom breezes winnow,
Bracing ev'ry nerve and sinew.
Melted down almost to jellies:
See our mowers, mason-tenders,
See our smiths, like salamanders;
See—but, gracious Pow'r, forgive us,
Thou see'st all, and can'st relieve us;
God of thunders, clouds, and rain,
Hear, nor let us pray in vain!
From the wat'ry western regions,
Call Thy clouds in gloomy legions:
Tow'ring, thick'ning, moving horrid,
O'er the day's affrighted forehead;
Swift athwart the low'ring deep,
Sudden let the lightning sweep;
Loud the bursting thunders roar,
Flashes blaze, and torrents pour;
Dark'ning, blazing, roaring, pouring—
Till this earth has got a scouring;
Till each stream, and creek, and current,
Swells and roars a raging torrent;
Till each freshen'd field, and every
Hill and dale, wear Nature's livery;
And cool buxom breezes winnow,
Bracing ev'ry nerve and sinew.
God of thunders, clouds, and rain!
Hear! nor let us pray in vain;
And till age has made us hoary,
Thine shall be the praise and glory.
Hear! nor let us pray in vain;
And till age has made us hoary,
Thine shall be the praise and glory.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |