 | The Harvest |  |
SYLVANDER's CHARACTER.
Full twenty times had Winter snell,
His tempests blown o'er Cheviot Fell;
As often spring had green'd the tree,
Since smil'd the youth in infancy.
His tempests blown o'er Cheviot Fell;
As often spring had green'd the tree,
Since smil'd the youth in infancy.
He pass'd his childhood's sportive days,
On banks of Tweed and Beaumont braes,
And where, beneath the southern hill,
Fair Ewart shines beside the Till.
These lovely scenes, now sung so long,
Attun'd his infant mind to song,
And gave a joy to after days
Which poverty could ne'er eraze.
For oh! 'twas all his pleasure still
To wake the harp by dale and hill,
And paint the feelings, fervid, warm,
When love sublimed each maiden charm!
And long shall Roddam's daughters sing
The strains Sylvander taught the string.
On banks of Tweed and Beaumont braes,
And where, beneath the southern hill,
Fair Ewart shines beside the Till.
These lovely scenes, now sung so long,
Attun'd his infant mind to song,
And gave a joy to after days
Which poverty could ne'er eraze.
For oh! 'twas all his pleasure still
To wake the harp by dale and hill,
And paint the feelings, fervid, warm,
When love sublimed each maiden charm!
20
The strains Sylvander taught the string.
When winter over plain and steep
Had thrown his mantle white and deep;
How grand, he deem'd, at night's calm noon,
To walk beneath the lovely moon,
As high amid her starry show,
She smil'd upon a land of snow!
While not a breeze was heard to stir
Roddamia's woods of gloomy fir;
His hoary branches stretch'd the oak
In silent grandeur o'er the rock;
And Cheviot seem'd, in snowy pride,
Among the stars his head to hide!
Had thrown his mantle white and deep;
How grand, he deem'd, at night's calm noon,
To walk beneath the lovely moon,
As high amid her starry show,
She smil'd upon a land of snow!
While not a breeze was heard to stir
Roddamia's woods of gloomy fir;
His hoary branches stretch'd the oak
In silent grandeur o'er the rock;
And Cheviot seem'd, in snowy pride,
Among the stars his head to hide!
When Spring, with fairy hand began,
In all her hues, to paint the lawn;
To bid the forest smile again,
And birds resume the rapture-strain;
Wherever spread yon alders dank
Above the riv'let's grassy bank,
Oft has the wand'rer of the dean,
(Conceal'd among the foliage green,)
Beheld his eye in raptures roll
As Fancy lighten'd on his soul;
And often fear'd the flying gale
Might waft, unheard, the tender tale!
In all her hues, to paint the lawn;
To bid the forest smile again,
And birds resume the rapture-strain;
Wherever spread yon alders dank
Above the riv'let's grassy bank,
Oft has the wand'rer of the dean,
(Conceal'd among the foliage green,)
Beheld his eye in raptures roll
As Fancy lighten'd on his soul;
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Might waft, unheard, the tender tale!
Elate with hope—elate in vain!
Our Bard had left his native plain,
To seek promotion in the vale,
Where Aire's soft murmurs load the gale.
Too proud to cringe to shallow Pride,
Too proud a Pedan'ts sneer to bide,
His parting tear indignant burn'd,
And to Northumbria he return'd.
Our Bard had left his native plain,
To seek promotion in the vale,
Where Aire's soft murmurs load the gale.
Too proud to cringe to shallow Pride,
Too proud a Pedan'ts sneer to bide,
His parting tear indignant burn'd,
And to Northumbria he return'd.
And now twelve months away have flown
Since first to him was Anna known;
That charmer of the rural scene,
In all the bloom of seventeen,
Soon caught his heart; for none could view
That maid, and not adore her too!
She caught his heart—but felt her own,
Before she knew her conquest, gone.
Oh glorious time of bliss and love!
Sweet foretaste of the joys above!
When, from each frigid doubt estrang'd,
Hearts, mutually dear, are interchang'd
And confidently can repose
In others' breast their joys or woes!
Since first to him was Anna known;
That charmer of the rural scene,
In all the bloom of seventeen,
Soon caught his heart; for none could view
That maid, and not adore her too!
She caught his heart—but felt her own,
Before she knew her conquest, gone.
Oh glorious time of bliss and love!
Sweet foretaste of the joys above!
When, from each frigid doubt estrang'd,
Hearts, mutually dear, are interchang'd
22
In others' breast their joys or woes!
So lov'd the pair; but penury cold
Still cramp'd Hope's rose-bud in the fold,
But soon a fortune-beam shall glow,
And sweet expand its beauty-blow!
Sufficiency shall bless his lot
With Anna in Roddamian Cot,
And love, unconscious of controul,
To purest rapture tune the soul!
Such were his hopes, when, all-unskill'd,
He sought good Albert's harvest field,
Not prizing much a reaper's name,
He came for money—not for fame.
Still cramp'd Hope's rose-bud in the fold,
But soon a fortune-beam shall glow,
And sweet expand its beauty-blow!
Sufficiency shall bless his lot
With Anna in Roddamian Cot,
And love, unconscious of controul,
To purest rapture tune the soul!
Such were his hopes, when, all-unskill'd,
He sought good Albert's harvest field,
Not prizing much a reaper's name,
He came for money—not for fame.
| The Harvest | |