Valentine Verses or, Lines of Truth, Love, and Virtue. By the Reverend Richard Cobbold |
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THE COTTAGE BOY. |
 | Valentine Verses |  |
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THE COTTAGE BOY.
Ye statesmen, senators, ye men of birth,
Look ye on this, a picture of some worth;
Ye great and learned, rich, behold in joy
This humble-minded, happy, Cottage Boy.
Look ye on this, a picture of some worth;
Ye great and learned, rich, behold in joy
This humble-minded, happy, Cottage Boy.
Poor Ben, how oft in independent day,
When free as billow, I could bound away,
And haste to call thee from thy humble home,
To take thy stick and hat and quickly come,
And rouse the rabbits from the hedge or fern,
Or carry this and that, my game in turn;
How oft I've seen thee at thy frugal meal,
Contented sit, and murmer not at weal
Of others, fed with richer, finer fare,
Not better off, nor freer from life's care.
Thy cat thy cosset, aye, as dear to thee,
As horse or hound could ever be to me.
I saw thee die:—Six months a ling'ring foe
Around thee hovered, 'twas consumption slow.
But mark, ye mighty! not a word of wail,
No sign of discontent could once prevail—
No word of doubt; a meek and quiet mind
In hour of suffering to love inclin'd.
How oft as kneeling on the clean brick floor,
Beside the window or the cottage door,
In Spirit's prayer commended to the Lord,
Thy humble soul, through merit of his Word.
When free as billow, I could bound away,
And haste to call thee from thy humble home,
To take thy stick and hat and quickly come,
And rouse the rabbits from the hedge or fern,
Or carry this and that, my game in turn;
How oft I've seen thee at thy frugal meal,
Contented sit, and murmer not at weal
Of others, fed with richer, finer fare,
Not better off, nor freer from life's care.
Thy cat thy cosset, aye, as dear to thee,
As horse or hound could ever be to me.
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Around thee hovered, 'twas consumption slow.
But mark, ye mighty! not a word of wail,
No sign of discontent could once prevail—
No word of doubt; a meek and quiet mind
In hour of suffering to love inclin'd.
How oft as kneeling on the clean brick floor,
Beside the window or the cottage door,
In Spirit's prayer commended to the Lord,
Thy humble soul, through merit of his Word.
How oft the sun descending brightly down,
On me and thee his red rays sweetly shone:
That sun sets still upon the western hill,
Shines on thy cottage window, shines there still.
Thy sister, brother, mother, father see
The same sun sinking, and forget not thee;
Nor shall I either, till no longer mine,
On me departing he shall cease to shine.
Who loves the hall, who loves the cottage door,
Is kind at home, and gentle to the poor,
That man shall live in midst of life's alloy,
And die as happy as this Cottage Boy.
On me and thee his red rays sweetly shone:
That sun sets still upon the western hill,
Shines on thy cottage window, shines there still.
Thy sister, brother, mother, father see
The same sun sinking, and forget not thee;
Nor shall I either, till no longer mine,
On me departing he shall cease to shine.
Who loves the hall, who loves the cottage door,
Is kind at home, and gentle to the poor,
That man shall live in midst of life's alloy,
And die as happy as this Cottage Boy.
| Valentine Verses | |