 | Valentine Verses |  |
241*
THE REMOVAL.
The poor old Cottager must bid adieu;
Of house, home, garden, take a parting view;—
His work is done, his day of woe is come,
The parish workhouse now must be his home.
Of house, home, garden, take a parting view;—
His work is done, his day of woe is come,
The parish workhouse now must be his home.
Poor Johnny! many, many a happy day,
Thine has been lot to saddle the old grey,
Let loose the dog, and ope the gate hard bye,
And see thy master down the valley hie.
Thine has been lot to saddle the old grey,
Let loose the dog, and ope the gate hard bye,
And see thy master down the valley hie.
Oft hast thou smiled, when college days were o'er,
To see that master and his steed once more;
To welcome one who never gave thee frown;
The old white steed, again to rub him down.
To see that master and his steed once more;
To welcome one who never gave thee frown;
The old white steed, again to rub him down.
Say, is there grief to visit in decline
An aged servant, who had once been thine?
To see the struggle 'twixt the hope and pain
Of active spirit, which would work again?
An aged servant, who had once been thine?
To see the struggle 'twixt the hope and pain
Of active spirit, which would work again?
242*
Say, is there grief to note his anxious look?
Scarce will the generous such moment brook;
But sad necessity the truth must tell,
And poor old Johnny too must say, farewell!
Scarce will the generous such moment brook;
But sad necessity the truth must tell,
And poor old Johnny too must say, farewell!
To see each day some furniture depart:
There stood the clock! O poverty, thy smart!
First goes the time-piece which will click no more,
And then the carpet, or the cupboard's store;
There stood the clock! O poverty, thy smart!
First goes the time-piece which will click no more,
And then the carpet, or the cupboard's store;
The neat brass candlestick is taken down,
The chairs are vanishing, the fender's flown;
The plates are gone, the walls are getting bare;
The poor old woman too is full of care.
The chairs are vanishing, the fender's flown;
The plates are gone, the walls are getting bare;
The poor old woman too is full of care.
Hard is the struggle to obtain relief,
And deep the suffering of honest grief!
O would that industry when full of pay,
Would lay by something for a rainy day.
And deep the suffering of honest grief!
O would that industry when full of pay,
Would lay by something for a rainy day.
I wish that wisdom could propose a plan,
To keep from poverty the working man;
To make them club, in proper time to save,
And satisfy when indigence would crave.
To keep from poverty the working man;
To make them club, in proper time to save,
And satisfy when indigence would crave.
243*
O I should love to see the hardy race,
Resume that English, independent face,
Which loves the cottage of contentment more
Than idle laziness at workhouse door.
Resume that English, independent face,
Which loves the cottage of contentment more
Than idle laziness at workhouse door.
But poor old Johnny, 'twas in vain for me
To give my pittance to necessity;
Thy hopes grew less, and sighing thus 'twas said,
“To leave this place will kill me, I'm afraid!”
To give my pittance to necessity;
Thy hopes grew less, and sighing thus 'twas said,
“To leave this place will kill me, I'm afraid!”
Mine was the lot to soothe, to lessen woe,
To bid thee fear not, if the word ‘must go,’
“Must go, dear master,” must be said again.
“O take thou comfort in the midst of pain.”
To bid thee fear not, if the word ‘must go,’
“Must go, dear master,” must be said again.
“O take thou comfort in the midst of pain.”
The day is come, removal must be made;
Far, far away, thy destiny was laid,
The parish-officer had spoke the word,
To keep thee longer no one could afford:—
Far, far away, thy destiny was laid,
The parish-officer had spoke the word,
To keep thee longer no one could afford:—
“My cottage! where so often I have known
“Joys which are past, for ever, ever flown;
“My master!” poor old fellow 'twas the sound,
“God bless thee, master! I am homeward bound!”
“Joys which are past, for ever, ever flown;
“My master!” poor old fellow 'twas the sound,
“God bless thee, master! I am homeward bound!”
244*
To see the tear, yea, see the tear of woe
Adown the cheek of aged vet'ran flow,—
Bear it I could not, so I turn'd away,
And gallopp'd homeward to record the day.
Adown the cheek of aged vet'ran flow,—
Bear it I could not, so I turn'd away,
And gallopp'd homeward to record the day.
Be sure of this, dear maiden, thou hast heart,
I never wish thy lover may depart.
'Tis some such feeling I shall one day know,
When leaving Ipswich, I shall say, ‘must go!’
May'st thou be happy, take the Poet's line,
O may Removal be to heaven thine!
I never wish thy lover may depart.
'Tis some such feeling I shall one day know,
When leaving Ipswich, I shall say, ‘must go!’
May'st thou be happy, take the Poet's line,
O may Removal be to heaven thine!
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