The poetical works of William Nicholson With a memoir by Malcolm M'L. Harper ... Fourth edition |
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THE OLD SHEPHERD:
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 | The poetical works of William Nicholson |  |
THE OLD SHEPHERD:
A Tale.
The cold winds of winter did blow,
And hissingly swept o'er the hill;
The sunbeams were sickly and low,
As they tinged yon ice-clotted mill.
And hissingly swept o'er the hill;
The sunbeams were sickly and low,
As they tinged yon ice-clotted mill.
'Twas down by the white clifted rock,
Where the bare trees their branches spread wide,
Round its base nipt a poor scanty flock,
There a hoary old Shepherd I spied.
Where the bare trees their branches spread wide,
Round its base nipt a poor scanty flock,
There a hoary old Shepherd I spied.
Each feature a sorrow betrayed,
Though his looks they betokened the sage;
His form like a bulwark decayed,
And his head was o'er-silvered with age.
Though his looks they betokened the sage;
His form like a bulwark decayed,
And his head was o'er-silvered with age.
Around him a mantle of grey—
'Twas the dye that was worn by his sheep;
At his feet lay his faithful friend, Tray,
His charge that assisted to keep.
'Twas the dye that was worn by his sheep;
At his feet lay his faithful friend, Tray,
His charge that assisted to keep.
106
His hands they were withered and bare,
That tremblingly graspèd his crook;
His brow it was furrowed with care,
While wistful and wildly he spoke.
That tremblingly graspèd his crook;
His brow it was furrowed with care,
While wistful and wildly he spoke.
“What is life but a trifle, a toy?
A something, a nothing, that's gone;
As the shade of the cloud gliding by,
Hope grasps, but the phantom is flown.
A something, a nothing, that's gone;
As the shade of the cloud gliding by,
Hope grasps, but the phantom is flown.
“Yet life's morning tasks, ye were sweet;
When the bosom was vacant and gay,
How light was the sound of my feet,
While I tuned up my pastoral lay!
When the bosom was vacant and gay,
How light was the sound of my feet,
While I tuned up my pastoral lay!
“Till love from the eyes of my Ann
Beamed forth to disquiet my mind;
But soon were my sorrows withdrawn,
For my Anna was constant and kind.
Beamed forth to disquiet my mind;
But soon were my sorrows withdrawn,
For my Anna was constant and kind.
“Though our cabin was lonely and low,
Soft peace and content did abound;
Our labours sweet health did bestow,
And our pledges of love were around.
Soft peace and content did abound;
Our labours sweet health did bestow,
And our pledges of love were around.
“When apace our young blossoms they grew,
My bosom exulted within,
As the striplings first guided the plough,
And the damsel was learning to spin.
My bosom exulted within,
As the striplings first guided the plough,
And the damsel was learning to spin.
“Then fortune her gifts did unfold,
And spread out her gay gilded train;
My flocks they increased in the fold,
And the valleys waved wide with my grain.
And spread out her gay gilded train;
My flocks they increased in the fold,
And the valleys waved wide with my grain.
107
“But the follies of fashion and rank,—
The bane of the youthful and fair,—
Our offspring like honey they drank,
And my partner was caught in the snare.
The bane of the youthful and fair,—
Our offspring like honey they drank,
And my partner was caught in the snare.
“Now our cooling brick pavement was changed
For a cloth that must cover the floor;
In place of our milk-pails arranged,
There goblets and vases did tower.
For a cloth that must cover the floor;
In place of our milk-pails arranged,
There goblets and vases did tower.
“Our sons saw each race and each fair,
And visits they gave and received;
'Twas confusion and bustle, and care;
In our prospects we oft were deceived.
And visits they gave and received;
'Twas confusion and bustle, and care;
In our prospects we oft were deceived.
“The tabor beat time at the dance,
And the Squire of the manor was there;
He deigned on our daughter to glance:
For my Mary was thoughtless and fair.
And the Squire of the manor was there;
He deigned on our daughter to glance:
For my Mary was thoughtless and fair.
“Alas! could I smother the rest!
He proffered to make her his bride;
Decoyed, and then left her distrest:
She sickened, repented, and died.
He proffered to make her his bride;
Decoyed, and then left her distrest:
She sickened, repented, and died.
“My favourite, the son of my love,
Was bound to a trader in town;
But the youth learned to gamble and rove,
Till his health and his virtue were flown.
Was bound to a trader in town;
But the youth learned to gamble and rove,
Till his health and his virtue were flown.
“Our oldest was haughty and vain;
When he saw that our fortunes decreased,
He hied him far over the main,
And left us in sorrow distrest.
When he saw that our fortunes decreased,
He hied him far over the main,
And left us in sorrow distrest.
108
“The wound of a parent's fond hope,
My wife to her bosom has laid;
Ere her time does she wither and droop;
And the mind's with the body decayed.
My wife to her bosom has laid;
Ere her time does she wither and droop;
And the mind's with the body decayed.
“I sigh for the friends of my youth;
I look; but behold they are not!
Experience has taught me this truth;
I live, yet am almost forgot.
I look; but behold they are not!
Experience has taught me this truth;
I live, yet am almost forgot.
“Like yon agèd oak on the cleft,
With bosom laid bare to each blast,
Whose branches are withered and reft,
And leafless, and sapless, and waste.
With bosom laid bare to each blast,
Whose branches are withered and reft,
And leafless, and sapless, and waste.
“Thus lonely, through want and through cold,
I tend these few sheep on the heath;
No friend to support me when old,
To close my sad eyelids in death.
I tend these few sheep on the heath;
No friend to support me when old,
To close my sad eyelids in death.
“Oh life! thou art languid to bear!
How cheerless the prospects I see:
Though Spring shall with blossoms appear,
She never can bud upon me.
How cheerless the prospects I see:
Though Spring shall with blossoms appear,
She never can bud upon me.
“But why should I murmur and sigh
At the life-cheering tints of the Spring?
Though a songster may sicken and die,
Yet another shall carol and sing.
At the life-cheering tints of the Spring?
Though a songster may sicken and die,
Yet another shall carol and sing.
“Ye fields, ye shall flourish and fade,
With your caves and your cataracts so lone;
Some shepherd more gay shall you tread,
When my name on the hills is unknown.
With your caves and your cataracts so lone;
Some shepherd more gay shall you tread,
When my name on the hills is unknown.
109
“But it's cruel, ye wealthy and high,
Thus to spill the content of the swain;
And 'tis folly in them, thus to sigh
For the rank they can never maintain.”
Thus to spill the content of the swain;
And 'tis folly in them, thus to sigh
For the rank they can never maintain.”
| The poetical works of William Nicholson | |