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 |
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THE DOMINIE. |
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 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
THE DOMINIE.
Of all professions that this world hath known,—
From humble cobblers upwards to the throne,
From the great architects of Greece and Rome
Down to the maker of a farthing broom,—
The worst for care and undeserved abuse,
The first in real dignity and use
(If kind to teach, and diligent to rule),
Is the learned Master of a little school.
Not he who guides the legs, or fits the clown
To square his fists and knock his fellow down;
Not he whose arm displays the murd'rous art
To parry thrusts, and pierce the unguarded heart:
For that good man, who, faithful to his charge,
Still toils the op'ning Reason to enlarge,
And leads the growing mind through every stage,
From humble A B C to God's own page,—
From black rough pot hooks, horrid to the sight,
To fairest lines that float o'er purest white;
From Numeration through an op'ning way,
Till dark Annuities seem clear as day;
Pours o'er the soul a flood of mental light,
Expands its wings, and gives it powers for flight,
Till Earth's remotest bounds, and Heaven's bright train,
Are trac'd, weigh'd, measur'd, pictur'd, and explain'd.
From humble cobblers upwards to the throne,
From the great architects of Greece and Rome
Down to the maker of a farthing broom,—
The worst for care and undeserved abuse,
The first in real dignity and use
(If kind to teach, and diligent to rule),
Is the learned Master of a little school.
Not he who guides the legs, or fits the clown
To square his fists and knock his fellow down;
Not he whose arm displays the murd'rous art
To parry thrusts, and pierce the unguarded heart:
For that good man, who, faithful to his charge,
Still toils the op'ning Reason to enlarge,
And leads the growing mind through every stage,
From humble A B C to God's own page,—
From black rough pot hooks, horrid to the sight,
To fairest lines that float o'er purest white;
From Numeration through an op'ning way,
Till dark Annuities seem clear as day;
Pours o'er the soul a flood of mental light,
Expands its wings, and gives it powers for flight,
372
Are trac'd, weigh'd, measur'd, pictur'd, and explain'd.
If such his toils, sure honor and regard,
And wealth of fame, will be his sweet reward;
Sure, every mouth will open in his praise,
And blessings gild the evening of his days!
Yes! blest, indeed, with cold ungrateful scorn,
With study pale, by daily crosses worn;
Despised by those who to his labour owe
All that they read, and almost all they know;
Condemned each tedious day, such cares to bear
As well might drive even patience to despair.
The partial parents taunt the Idler dull,
The Blockhead's dark, impenetrable skull;
The endless sound of A B C's dull train,
Repeated o'er ten thousand times in vain.
Placed on a point, the object of each sneer,
His faults enlarge—his merits disappear.
If mild—“Our lazy Master loves his ease,
“He let's his boys do anything they please:”
If rigid—“He's stern, hard-hearted wretch,
He drives the children stupid with his birch;
My child, with gentleness, will mind a breath,
But frowns and floggings frighten him to death.”
Do as he will, his conduct is arraigned,
And dear the little that he gets is gained;
E'en that is given him on the Quarter-Day,
With looks that call it money thrown away.
And wealth of fame, will be his sweet reward;
Sure, every mouth will open in his praise,
And blessings gild the evening of his days!
Yes! blest, indeed, with cold ungrateful scorn,
With study pale, by daily crosses worn;
Despised by those who to his labour owe
All that they read, and almost all they know;
Condemned each tedious day, such cares to bear
As well might drive even patience to despair.
The partial parents taunt the Idler dull,
The Blockhead's dark, impenetrable skull;
The endless sound of A B C's dull train,
Repeated o'er ten thousand times in vain.
Placed on a point, the object of each sneer,
His faults enlarge—his merits disappear.
If mild—“Our lazy Master loves his ease,
“He let's his boys do anything they please:”
If rigid—“He's stern, hard-hearted wretch,
He drives the children stupid with his birch;
My child, with gentleness, will mind a breath,
But frowns and floggings frighten him to death.”
Do as he will, his conduct is arraigned,
And dear the little that he gets is gained;
E'en that is given him on the Quarter-Day,
With looks that call it money thrown away.
Great God! who knows the unremitting care
And deep solicitude that Teachers share,
If such our fate by Thy divine control,
O give us health and fortitude of soul,
Such that disdain the murd'ring tongue of Fame,
And strength to make the sturdiest of them tame!
Grant this, O God! to Dominie's distrest;
Our sharp-tailed Hickories will do the rest.
And deep solicitude that Teachers share,
If such our fate by Thy divine control,
O give us health and fortitude of soul,
Such that disdain the murd'ring tongue of Fame,
And strength to make the sturdiest of them tame!
Grant this, O God! to Dominie's distrest;
Our sharp-tailed Hickories will do the rest.
A. W---n.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |