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The poetical works of John Nicholson

... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird
 

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94

The bards of genius sing the orphan's woe,
The rise of nations, or their overthrow;
Others describe the shipwrecked sailor's fate,
The terrors of th' ensanguined field relate.—
Mine be the task to paint unto the life,
The deep distress of a poor poacher's wife,
Who in the worst of huts is forced to live
Where winter snow comes through it like a sieve;
The furniture, were it put up for sale,
Would scarcely make a crown to buy him ale;
His children to the utmost famine driv'n,
Quite destitute of clothes but what were giv'n
By one whose heart could at misfortunes melt,
Who knew their wants, and for their suff'rings felt.
He sees them shiv'ring oft without a fire,
And what should buy them coals is spent in wire;
Two-thirds laid out in powder, shot, and nets,
The other part the well-fed landlord gets,—
And when the night of danger's passed away,
While others work, he sleeps throughout the day:
But oft his sleep is broke by sudden fears,
He starts,—and thinks some bailiff's voice he hears,—
He lifts his head,—'tis famine all and dearth,
His famished children clinging round the hearth;
Disease destroying all his partner's charms,
And tears fall on the infant in her arms.
His conscience wakes, though nearly hard as stone—
He turns him o'er, and heaves a heavy groan;

95

Vows like an honest man's his days shall be—
At last convinc'd his deeds bring misery.
His weeping wife hears the repentant sighs,
In anguish t'ward him turns her tear-drenched eyes,
Thus speaks, with looks that would the marble move,
While weeping o'er the pledges of their love:
“Thou once dear youth, for whom I all forsook,
“To me and mine, O give one thoughtful look!
“Where shall we fly?—our credit all is o'er,
“Thy evil deeds have made and keep us poor.
“My mother, wearied out, no more can do,
“My father's bosom wasting with his woe!
“Thou, while at enmity with ev'ry friend,
“Dost only to the worst advice attend.
“Bring thou but constant wages, I could rest,
“And with a certain pittance should be blest.
“While others sit in plenty and at peace,
“As years roll on their nuptial joys increase.
“Here is our eldest and our only son,
“Who blessed us first ere sorrow had begun,
“Without a shoe to travel in the snow,
“By rags defended when the cold winds blow;
“Who knows not yet an alphabet or pray'r,
“Nor ever yet engrossed a father's care.
“Such things as these sink in my bosom deep,
“And hours unseen I sorrowing sit and weep.

96

“And see those little innocents beside,
“More than half naked, while clothes are washed and dried.
“While other children are with raiment blessed,
“And twice upon a Sabbath day are dressed,
“Ours stand aloof, upon the holy day,
“Or weep, upbraided with their rags at play.
“Debts undischarged, while thou enjoy'st thy cheer,
“Forgetful of the wants and sorrows here.
“How well could we be clothed,—how well be fed,
“If like an honest man's thy life was led;
“O that the purchasers of game could know
“My children's wants—the burden of my woe!”