The early poems of John Clare :: :: University of Virginia Library

The early poems of John Clare

1804-1822: General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger

Clare, John (1793-1864)

Volume I

II.

Volume II

The Village Minstrel and other poems

THE PARISH

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II. Volume II

The Village Minstrel and other poems

HOME

O Home however homley—thoughts of thee
Can never fail to cheer the abscent breast
How oft wild raptures have been felt by me
When back returning weary and distrest.

How oft I've stood to see the chimney pour
Thick clouds of smoak in collumn's lightly blue
And close beneath the houseleeks yellow flower
As fast approaching in a nearer view.

These tho they'r trifles ever gave delight
E'en now they prompt me with a fond desire
Painting the evening group before my sight
Of friends and kindred seated round the fire.

O Time how rapid did thy moments flow
That chang'd these scenes of joy to scenes of Woe!

POVERTY

Rank Poverty dost thou my joys assail
And with thy threatnings fright me from my rest
I once had thoughts that with a Bloomfields tale
And leisure hours I surely should be blest.

But now I find the alterative scene
From these few days I fondly thought my own
Hoping to spend them private and alone
But lo! thy troop of spectres intervene;
Want shows his face with idleness between
Next shames approaching step that hates the throng
Comes sneaking on with sloth that fetters strong:—
Are these the joys my leisure hours must glean?
Then I decline:—But know rank powers where ere ye meet
You ne'er shall drive me from the muses seat.

NARRATIVE VERSES WRITTEN AFTER AN EXCURSION FROM HELPSTON TO BURGHLEY PARK

The faint sun tipt the rising Ground
No Blustry wind—the air was still
The Blue mist thinly scatterd round
Verg'd along the distant hill
Delightful morn—from labour free
I jocund met the southwest gale
While here and there a busy bee
Hum'd sweetly oer the flowery vale

O! Joyful morn:—on pleasure bent
Down thy green slopes and fields I flew
And thro' the thickest covert went
Which hid me from the public view
Nor was it shame nor was it fear
No no it was my own dear choise
I love the Brierey thicket where
Echo keeps her mocking voice

The suns increasing heat was kind
His warm beams chear'd the vales around
I left my own fields far behind
And pilgrim-like trod foreign ground
The glowing landscapes charms I caught
Where ere I look't or wander'd oer
And every wood and field me thought
A greener brighter prospect wore

Delicious morn!—thou'lt always find
When a hours pastime intervenes
A vacant opening in my mind
To think and cherish thy fond scenes
Tho no hughe rock approach'd my sight
Nor lofty mountain rear'd its head
Enough for wonder and delight
All around my path was spread

Sometimes musing on the skie
Then list'ning to the waterfall
Now saw—the sun beams mounted high
Glistering shine on walkerd hall
Thus I often made a stand
Thus I mark't each curious spot
And seemingly to court my hand
I now and then a cowslip got

But Barnack Sinnoms thines the place
Where antique forms are dimly shown
There oer thy moss grown hills I trace
Scenes which never will be known
The deep sunk moat the stoney mound
Brought oer my mind a pensive fit
And ‘ah’ thought I while looking round
‘Their heads dont ache that made yon pit’

O! thou long rememberd morn
How blest was I in these dear vales
When snugly hid beneath the thorn
I mus'd oer Bloomfields ‘rural tales’
And there sweet bard thy forest song
Describ'd with energy sublime
Fraught with such music charmd my tongue
And turn'd my simple thoughts to ryhme

Thus ever varying my mind
Ever running like the rill
Soon I left these scenes behind
In quest of others brighter still
Yet not for ever!—no ye vales
I love your pleasant shades too well
And often since to view your dales
I've brush'd along the upland swell

Now nothing save a running stream
For awhile my eye engag'd
Whose plaintive murmurs soothd my dream
And all aspiring thoughts assuag'd
Now as near its mossy bank
I well remember how I lay
Stretching oer the oaken plank
To see the dancing beetles play

Tho the stranger passing by
Scarcley gave a single look
Yet for a whole day I could lye
And pore upon this little brook
Well pleas'd to view its winding rounds
And see the eddying purls it made
But still its daisy skirted bounds
Like ‘Barnam water wants a shade’

But O! that spot so long endear'd
Gleaming rapterous on my sight
Fill'd—ere the oak tree tops appeard
My Breast with wonder and delight
There art and nature friendly join'd
Intermingling charm'd the eye
And as their varying forms combin'd
Each gave each a nobler dye

O! fancy now I ask thy aid
And Poet like to guide my flight
Point out every charming shade
Freshen all before my sight
Enough thy power—the spacious park
The towering chasenuts hughe and high
The arching groves and walks so dark
And all appear in mem'rys eye

With deep regret I view'd the spire
Which told the busy vil so nigh
For lonley shades are my desire
Far from the reach of human eye
The foot pad turning to the town
No longer provd alone to me
Loud noisy murmurs filld the air
And spoild my deep sollemnity

The passing hours jog'd on apace
And in their progress seem'd to say
‘Haste and gain that destind place
‘Or soon thoult loose the flitting day’
I instantly obey'd their call
Nor went to where the foot-pad lay
But clamberd oer an old rough wall
And stole across the nearest way

No spire I caught nor woody swell
My Eye confind to lower bounds
Yet not to mark the flowrets bell
But watch the owners of the grounds
Their presence was my only fear
No boughs to shield me if they came
And soon amid my rash career
I deem'd such trespasing to blame

For troubl'd thoughts began to rise
Of ills almost beyond relief
Which might from this one cause arise
And leave me there to whant reprief
So arguing with my self how vain
An afterthought ‘Still to keep free’
Made me to seek the road again
And own the force of Liberty

For O! its unabated power
Did then my breast with raptures fill
And sure it was a happy hour
That led me up to Barnack hill

There uncontrould I knew no bounds
But lookt oer Villages a crowd
And cots and spires to farthest rounds
While far trees seem'd a misty cloud

While tir'd with such farstretching views
I left the green hills sideling slope
But O! so tempting was the muse
She made me wish she made me hope
I wish'd and hop'd that future days
(For scenes prophetic fill'd my breast)
Whould grant to me a Crown of bays
By singing maids and shepherds drest

These for awhile gave such delight
And occupy'd my mind so strong
That not one view could tempt my sight
But all unheeded passd along
Save only when that destin'd place
As yet unknown tho long endear'd
Enrich'd with many a namles grace
Thro Fancys flitting eye appear'd

At length I came where taper poles
'Reft of their grains from top to toe
Stood uniform mid hills and holes
Naked waving to and fro
‘Well ye mimic shades’ thought I
‘If this be grandeur give me still
‘The wild wood shade where I may lye
‘And see their branches spread at will’

But when aside the spacious park
The massy grated gate I saw
And arching groves and walks so dark
They struck me with a sacred awe

To see the rows of trees so green
As far as eye can stretch to see
And such long gravel walks so clean
Was wonderful indeed to me

TO THE VIOLET

Sweet tiney flower of darkley hue
Lone dweller in the pathles shade
How much I love thy pensive blue
Of Innoscence so well display'd.

What time the watry skies are full
Of streaming dappl'd clouds so pale
And sideling rocks more white than wool
Portending snowey sleet or hail.

I 'gin to seek the[e] charming flower
Along each hedghrows mossy seat
Where dithering many a cold blee hour
I've hug'd my self in thy retreat.

What makes me cherish such fond taste
What makes such raptures spring for thee
Is that thou lov'st the dreary waste
Which is so well belov'd by me.

For sollitude should be my choise
Could I this labouring life resighn
To see the little birds rejoice
And thy sweet flowers in clusters shine.

I'de chuse a cave beside some rock
Closd in all round with ash and thorn
As near my door thy tribes might flock
To shed their sweets in early morn.

But ah! that way would never prove
Means to sustain impending life
I must forgo those scenes I love
And still beat on with needy strife.

Sweet flower we must reverse the plan
Nor cherish such romantic views
I'll strive to seek thee when I can
Thro noontide heat or evening dews.

So spring return with all thy train
Of flowrets clothd in varied hue
I long to see that morn again
Which brings to light the vi'lets blue.

HELPSTON GREEN

Ye injur'd fields ye once where gay
When natures hand displayd
Long waving rows of willows grey
And clumps of awthorn shade

But now alas your awthorn bowers
All desolate we see
The woodmans axe their shade devours
And cuts down every tree

Not trees alone have ownd their force
Whole woods beneath them bowd
They turnd the winding riv'lets course
And all thy pastures plough'd
To shrub nor tree throughout thy fields
They no compassion show
The uplifted axe no mercy yields
But strikes a fatal blow

When ere I muse along the plain
And mark where once they grew
Rememb'rance wakes her busy train
And brings past scenes to view
The well known brook the favorite tree
In fancys eye appear
And next that pleasant green I see
That green for ever dear

Oer its green hills I've often stray'd
In childhoods happy hour
Oft sought the nest along the shade
And gatherd many a flower
And there with playmates often join'd
In fresher sports to plan
But now increasing years have coin'd
These childern into man

The greens gone too—ah lovely scene
No more the kingcup gay
Shall shine in yellow oer the green
And shed its golden ray
No more the herdsmans early call
Shall bring the cows to feed
Nor more the milkmaids evening brawl
In ‘come-mull’ tones succeed

Both milkmaids shouts and herdsmans call
Have vanish'd with the green
The kingcups yellow shades and all
Shall never more be seen
But the thick culterd tribes that grow
Will so efface the scene
That after times will hardly know
It ever was a green

Farwell thou favorite spot farwell
Since every efforts vain
All I can do is still to tell
Of thy delightful plain
But that pro[v]es short—increasing years
That did my youth presage
Will now as each new day appears
Bring on declining age

Reflection pierces deadly keen
While I the moral scan
As are the changes of the green
So is the life of man
Youth brings age with faultering tongue
That does the exit crave
There's one short scene presents the throng
Another shows the grave

THE TOMB

Once musing oer an old effaced stone
Longing to know who's dust it did consceal
I anxious ponder'd oer what might reveal
And sought the seeming date with weeds oergrown,
But that prov'd fruitles—both the date and name
Had been for ages in oblivion thrown.
The dim remains of sculptur'd ornament
Gave proof sufficient t'was reward for fame.
This did my scearching view so much torment
That time I qu[e]stion'd to expose the same

But soon a check—‘and what is that to thee?
‘'Bout who lies here?—since thou whilt quickly be
‘Forgot like him:—Then time shall bid thee go
‘To Heavens pure bliss or hells tormenting woe’.

DAMON AND COLLIN

Damon
When I meet Phillis in my morning walk
She first salutes the morn and stays to talk
The biggest secret she will not refuse
But freely tells me all the village news
And pleas'd am I can I but haply force
Some new made tale to lengthen the discourse
For—O so pleasing is her company
That hours like minutes in her prescense fly
I'm happy then nor can her abscence ere
Raise in my heart the least distrust to fear

Collin
When Chloe meets me I find naught to say
She hangs her head I turn another way
Sometimes (but never till the maid's gone bye)
‘Good morning’ faulters weaken'd by a sigh
Confounded I remain but yet delight
To look back on her while she's out of sight

Then thens the time that absence does torment
I jeer my weakness and I do repent
To think how well I might have then confest
That secret love which makes me so distrest
But when the maidens vanish'd for awhile
Recruited hopes my future hours beguile
I fuss my self ‘Another time I'll tell’
Which (if not better) will be quite as well
Thus days and weeks and months I've dallied oer
And now no nearer then I was before

Damon
Such ways as these I ever strove to shun
Nor was I bashful when I first begun
Freely I offerd posies to the maid
Which she as freely with her smiles repaid
Yet had I been like you affraid to own
My love.—her kindness had been still unknown
And now the maidens kindness to requite
I strive to please her morning noon and night
The garland and the wreath for her I bind
Compos'd of all the fairest I can find
For her I stop the straggler going astray
And watch her sheep when she's not in the way
I fetch them up at night and shift the pen
And in the morning let them out agen
For her in hearvest when the nuts are brown
I take my crook to pull the branches down
And up the trees that dismally hang oer
The deep black pond (where none durst go before)
I heedles climb as free from fear as now
And snatch the clusters from the top-most bough
Well pleas'd to risk such dangers that can prove
How much her damon does his Phillis love

Collin
I search the meadows and as well as you
I bind up posies and sweet garlands too
And if I unawares can hear exprest
What flower she fancies finer than the rest
Grow where it will I search the fields about
And search for't daily till I find it out
And when I've found 'em,—O'—what tongue can tell
The fear and doubts with which my breast does swell
The schemes contriving and the plans I lay
How I to her the garland must convey
And various indeed.—sometimes I start
Resolv'd to tell the secrets of my heart
Vowing to make the gather'd garland prove
How much I languish and how much I love
But soon resolves and vows alay their heat
And timid weakness reasumes her seat
The garland then as I so painful sought
Instantley seems as if twas good for naught
‘Ah gaudy thing’ I sigh ‘will Chloe wear
‘Such foolish lumber in her Auburn hair?’
Thus doubts and fears each other do confound
And thus perplex'd I throw it on the ground
Walk from't—distrest—in pensive silence mourn
Then plan a scheme! and back again return
Once more the garland in my hands I take
And of the best a smaller posie make
Resting assur'd that such a nosegay will
To gain her favour prove a better still
So off I go with posie in my coat
Knowing the plains where chloe does resort
And then my hopeful heart from grief's reviv'd
By this new plan so seeming well contriv'd

I gain the spot!—Ah! then, alas!—I go
Sneaking along—my heart misgives me too
Then as I nearer draw, ‘well now’ thinks I
‘I'll not speak to her, but pass silent bye’
While from my coat that precious gift I rend
Which I for her before-hand did intend
And after all my various scheeming so
The flowers as worthless to the ground I throw
And if by getting through the hedge bound plain
Having no sense to find the same again
Her little lambkins raise a petious cry
Calling for help—if I'm far off or nigh
It matters not can I but hear their moan
(Of hers more tenderer than I am my own)
The journeys nought at all no steps I grudge
But with great pleasure to its aid I trudge
Yet this is never to the maiden known
Nor never done save onley when alone
For fearing that by it the swains will prove
(Or she herself) the favour to be love
As I behind her back so loving where
So when she's there as careles I appear
Nor can I have the face (altho my mind
At the same times most willingly inclind)
To do for her the least as ever where
Nor join the tale where she does interfere
If from her looks a smile I do obtain
I feel oer joy'd but never smile again
And when I hear the swains her beauty praise
And in such artful fond alluring ways

To snatch the Posie from her swelling breast
And loose the ribbon round her slender waist
Then more familliar touch her courling hair
And praise her beauty as b[e]yond compare
At this sad pains around my heart will sting
But I near look nor tell a single thing

THE WOOD-CUTTERS NIGHT SONG

Welcome red and roundy sun
Dropping lowley in the west
Now my hard days work is done
I'm as happy as the best

Joyful are the thoughts of home
Now I'm ready for my chair
So till 'Morrow-morning's come
Bill and Mittins lye ye there

Tho to leave your pretty song
Little Birds it gives me pain
But to morrow is not long
Then I'm wi' you all again

If I stop and stan' about
Well I know how things will be
Julie will be looking out
Every now and then for me

So fare-ye-well and hold your tongues
Sing no more untill I come
They're not worthy of your songs
That never cares to drop a crumb

All day long I love the Oaks
But a' nights yon little cot
Where I see the chimney smoaks
Is by far the prettiest spot

Wife and childern all are there
To revive with pleasent looks
Table ready set—and chair—
Supper hanging on the hooks

Soon as ever I get in
When my faggot down I fling
Little prattlers they begin
Teazing me to talk and Sing

‘Welcome red and roundy sun
‘Dropping lowley in the west
‘Now my hard days work is done
‘I'm as happy as the best’

‘Joyful are the thoughts of home
‘Now I'm ready for my chair
‘So till 'Morrow-morning's come
‘Bill and Mittins lye ye there’

TO THE BUTTERFLYE

Lovley insect haste away
Greet once more the sunny day,
Leave, o leave the mirky barn
Ere trapping spiders thee discern,
If they do they will beset
Thy golden wings in filmy net,
Then alls in vain to set thee free
Hopes all lost for Liberty
Soon they'l drag thee in the wall
Suck thy downy form and all;
Murder tho a base employ
Tis the spiders only joy
Then lovley insect haste away
Greet once more the sunny day.
Never think that I belie,
Never fear a winters skie,
Budding oaks may now be seen,
Starry daises deck the green
Primrose groups the wood adorns
Cloudless skies and blossom'd thorns
These all prove that spring is here,
Haste away then never fear.
Skim oer hill and valley free
Perch upon the blossom'd tree;
Tho my garden would be best
Couldst thou but contented rest,
There the schoolboy has no power
Thee to chase from flower to flower,

Harbour none: for cruel sport
Faraway they do resort,
Nothing there but Liberty
Pleasent place for thee and me,
Then lovley insect haste away
Greet once more the sunny day.
Hither bend thy roving flight
In my garden take delight,
Tho the dew bent level dale
Bears the lilly of the vale,
Tho the thickets bushy dell
Tempts thee to the foxglove's bell;
Come but once within my bounds
View the gardens airy rounds,
Soon thou'lt find a sweeter air
Tho there's not such numbers there,
Soon thou'lt find the scene compleat
And every flowret twice as sweet;
Then lovley insect come away
Greet once more the sunny day:—
Oft I've seen when warm and dry
'Mong the beanfields bosom high,
Thee lightly skim from pea to pea,
(Solitude for the[e] and me)
Then thy starry gems and gold
Admiration would unfold;
For what insect is't can vie
With the lovley Butterflye
Lo! the arching heav'nly bow
Does all his dyes on thee bestow,
Crimson, Blue, and watry Green
Mix'd with Azure shade between
These are thine:—thou first in place
Queen of all the insect race
And I've often thought alone
This to thee was not unknown;

For amid the sunny hour
When I've found thee on a flower,
(Searching ken with minute gleg)
Oft Ive seen thy little leg,
Soft as glass o'er velvet glides
Smoothen down thy silken sides
Then thy wings would ope' and shut,
Then thou seemingly would strut.
Was it nature, was it pride
Let the learned world decide;
Enough for me, (tho some may deem
This a trifling silly theme)
Wouldst thou in my garden come
To join the bee's delightful hum,
These silly themes then day and night
Should be thy triflers whole delight;
Then lovley insect haste away
Greet once more the sunny day.

SORROWS FOR A FRIEND

Ye brown old oaks that spread the silent wood
How sweet retire your stillnes us'd to be
Ah still—O! blest when wrapt in musing mood
But now Confusion suits the best to me
‘Is it for Love!’ the breezes seem to say
‘That you forsake our woodland silence here?
‘Is it for love’ you roam so far away
‘From these still shades you valu'd once so dear?’

‘No Breezes no’—I answer with a sigh
‘Love never could so much my bosom grieve.—
‘T[urni]ll my friend!—alas—so soon to die!
‘—O!—that's the grief which presses me to leave.
‘—Tho noise can't heal—it may some balm bestow
‘But silence wrankles in the wounds of Woe!’

TO HEALTH

Hail soothing balm—ye breezes blow
Ransack the flower and blossom'd tree
All, all your stolen gifts bestow
For health has granted all to me

And may this blessing long be mine
May I thy favour still enjoy
Then never shall my heart repine
Nor yet thy long continuance cloy

And tho I cannot boast,—O! health
Of nothing else,—but only thee
I would not change this bliss for wealth
No not for all the eye can see

Wealth without thee is useless made
Void of the smallest happy spark
Yes just as useless to give aid
As Mirrors set to light the dark!

Ah power of riches power of kings
Are nought when destitute of thee
Old gripe mourns thee when hunger stings
And princes mourn in Luxury

Then thank thy God exulting soul
Who gave this peace and privacy
Who gives this Health as seasons roll
And all that ever blesses thee

Ah well may they who do posess
Sweet health thy joy-inspiring balm
Lavish thy praise in such excess
‘Hail hail, wild woodlands native charm!’

Thy voice I hear, thy form I see
In silence, Echo, stream or cloud
Now that strong voice belongs to thee
Which woods and hills repeat so loud

The leaf the flower the spirey blade
The hanging drops of pearley dew
The russet heath the woodland shade
All all can bring thee in my view

‘Then hail sweet balm;—ye breezes blow
‘Ransack the flower and blossom'd tree
‘All all your stolen gifts bestow
‘For health has granted all to me!’

With her I search the woodland shade
Beset in briery wild among
With her I tred the tufted glade
Transported by the woodlarks song

With her I wander where the sheep
In groups display a chequer'd shade
Where weedy waters winding creep
Nor will she fallow clods disdain

‘Then hail sweet balm,—ye breezes blow
‘Ransack the flower and blossom'd tree
‘All all your stolen gifts bestow
‘For health has granted all to me!’

MAY-DAY

Now happy swains review the plains
And hail the first of may
Now linnets sing to welcome spring
And every soul is gay

Hobs joyful soul high rears the pole
With wild flower wreaths entwin'd
Then tip-toe round the maidens bound
All sorrow lags behind

The emblemn thorn their doors adorn
With every flowret lin'd
All earliest spring essays to bring
Or scearching maids can find

So lov'd the hour so sweet the flower
That first produces may
That every brow seems laughing now
To cellebrate the day

All swains resort to join the sport
E'en age will not disdain
But oft will throng to hear the song
And view the jocund train

I often too had us'd to go
The rural mirth to share
But what alas! time brought to pass
Soon made me absent there

My collin dy'd! the village pride
O hapless misery
Then sports adieu with him they flew
‘For he was all to me!’

And May no more shall ne'er restore
To me those joys again
Theres no relief but urghing grief
For memory wakens pain

To think how he so dear to me
Had us'd to join the fray
And O! so dear to him they were
He gloried in the day

But now sad scene he's left the green
And Lubin here to mourn
Then flowers may spring and birds may sing
And May-days may return

But never more can they restore
Their rural sports to me
No no adieu with him ye flew
‘For he was all to me!’

TO MY COTTAGE

Thou lowly cot where first my breath I drew
Past joys endear thee childhoods past delight
Where each young summer pictures on my view
& dearer still the happy winter night
When the storm pelted down wi all his might
& roard & bellowd in the chimney top
& patterd vehement gainst the window light
& oer the threshold from the eaves did drop
How blest Ive listnd on my corner stool
Heard the storm rage & hugd my happy spot
While the fond parent wound her wirring spool
& spard a sigh for the poor wanderers lot
In thee sweet hut I all these joys did prove
& these endear thee wi eternal love

THE ARBOUR

There is a wilderd spot delights me well
Pent in a corner of my native vale
Where tiney blossoms with a purple bell
Shivers their beauties to the autumn gale
Tis one of those mean arbours that prevail
With manhoods weakness still to seek & love
For what is past—destructions axe did fail
To maul it down with its companion grove
Tho but a trifling thorn oft sheltering warm
A brood of summer birds by nature led
To seek for covert in a hasty storm
I often think it lifts its lonley cares
In piteous bloom where all the rest is fled
Like a poor warrior the rude battle spares

NATURE

O simple nature how I do delight
To pause upon thy trifles—foolish things
So some woud call em—on the summer night
Tracing the lane path where the dog rose hings
Wi dew drops seathd while chickering cricket sings

My eye cant help but glance upon its leaves
Where loves warm beauty steals her sweetest blush
When sweet the while the even silence heaves
Her pausing breath just trembling thro the bush
& then again dies calm & all is hush
O how I feel just as I pluck the flower
& stick it to my breast—words cant reveal
But souls of feeling in this lovley hour
Knows all I mean & feeleth all I feel

A PRAYER

Thou grand existing soul of life & all
That appertains to glory & to power
Thou by what name so e'er weak cant may call
Forgive presumption now misfortunes lour
Tho vilest knees before thy throne may fall
To beg a blessing in afflictions hour
No feignd religion o thou power aspires
To purity of soul as claiming heaven
To mock the worlds vain eye—far far retires
The guilty wretch that hopes to be forgiven
In darksome corner o thou stay of all
While conscience bares his sins how vile they be
He sees no help beside when dangers fall
& trembling cringes for support from thee

A WISH

Be where I may when death brings in his bill
Demanding payment for lifes lingering debt
Or in my native village nestling still
Or tracing scenes Ive never known as yet
O let one wish go where I will be mine
To turn me back & wander home to dye
Mong nearest friends my latest breath resign
& in my church yard wi' my kindred lye
Neath the thick shaded sycamores decay
Its broad leaves trembling to the breeze of day
To see its shadow oer my ashes wave
How soothing will it be while hovering near
My unseen spirit haunts its dais[i]ed grave
Pausing on scenes the life once lovd so dear

THE LAST OF APRIL

Old april wanes & her last dewy morn
Her death bed steeps in leaves—to hail the may
New blooming blossoms neath the sun is born
& all poor aprils charms are swept away
The early primrose peeping once so gay

Is now choakd up wi namless mounting weeds
& the poor violet we once admird
Creeps in the grass unsought for—flowers suceeds
Gaudy & new & more to be desired
& of the old the school boys seemeth tir'd
So with us all poor april as wi thee
Each hath his day—the future brings my fears
Friends may grow weary rising flowers may be
& my last end like thine be steept in tears

SONNET

[Gritford with pleasing feelings do I leave]

Gritford with pleasing feelings do I leave
Thy seat of hospitality where art
& nature mingling lovley scenes doth weave
Sensations of wild sweetness to impart
& sooth & gladden the spectators heart
Meandering gratifyd thro walks that wind
Oer rude romantic bridges where the eye
Oft makes a curious pause & brings to mind
The hermit times of pilgrimage gone bye
Greensward & water gloomy shade & skye
Trees shrubs & flowers the muse enrapturd met
All blended round with sweetest taste & care
Nor while such scenes can charm will she forget
The kind reception she experiencd there

BALLAD

[Mem'ry thourt kind banishd bliss to endear it]

‘She came—she is gone—we have met. . .
‘& meet perhaps never again
‘The sun of that moment is set
‘& seems to have risen in vain’
Cowper

Mem'ry thourt kind banishd bliss to endear it
Time thou art cruel to wear it from me
Fancy thourt sweet as more sweeter appeareth
Forms of reallity shadowd by thee
Artless & innoscent how she lookd on me
Smiles that she gave me shall never decay
God what a thrilling of joy came upon me
Fate then how cruel to wear it away

Ah the first sigh of the love smitten maiden
Heaving the witness were anxious to prove
Tenant of truth with affection oer laden
Puritys fondness the essence of love
Where is the smile our first meeting elated
Memry the tear of our parting let be
My own sure she blossomd by nature created
Ah fate then how cruel to tare her from me

Shoud chance behold thee agen as my duty
One tale of seperate sorow Id tell
& then only wish—not to feast on thy beauty
Thou mayst find out another to love thee as well

—Twin hearts in loves cement so loath to be parted
Like leaves to the branches & boughs to the tree
We once—but its usless—we now are deserted
Sad fate then how cruel to tare her from me

Ah the fond kisses I often was stealing
Additions of others like waves from the sea
Have they washd out impressions of loves early feeling
Or still does she warm when shes thinking of me
O when I pass the first spot of our meeting
& see such flowers spring as I gatherd for thee
Mary I sigh—what its no use repeating
I sigh now that thou must be nothing to me

EFFUSION

Ah little did I think in times thats past
By summer burnt or numbd by winters frost
Delving the ditch a livlihood to earn
Or lumping corn out in a dusty barn
With aching bones returning home at night
& sitting down with weary hand to write
Ah little did I think as then unknown
Thou artless ryhmes I even blusht to own
Woud be one day applauded & approvd
By learning notic'd & by genius lovd
God knows my hopes were many but my pain
Dampt all the prospects which I hopd to gain

I hardly dard to hope—thou corner chair
In which Ive oft slung back in deep despair
Hadst thou expression thou midst easy tell
The pains & all that I have known too well
Twoud be but sorrows tale yet still twoud be
A tale of truth & passing sweet to me
How oft upon my hand Ive laid my head
& thought how poverty deformd our shed
Lookd on each parents face I feign had cheerd
Where sorrow triumphd & pale want appeard
& sighd & hopd & wishd some day woud come
When I might bring a blessing to their home
That toil & merit comforts had in store
To bid the tear defile their cheeks no more
Who that has feelings woud not wish to be
A friend to parents such as mine to me
Who in distress broke their last crust in twain
& tho want pincht the remnant broke again
& still if craving of their scanty bread
Gave their last mouthful that I might be fed
Nor for their own wants tear drops followd free
Worse anguish stung—they had no more for me
& now hopes sun is looking brighter out
& spreading thin the clouds of fear & doubt
That long in gloomy sad suspense to me
Hid the long waited smiles I wisht to see
& now my parents helping you is sweet
The rudest havoc fortune coud compleat
A piteous couple blest wi little friends
Where pain & poverty have had their ends
Ill be thy crutch my father lean on me
Weakness knits stubbor[n] while its bearing thee
& hard shall fall the shock of fortunes frown
To eke thy sorrows ere it breaks me down
& thou my mother kindness shall be met
& ere Im able will I pay the debt

For what thoust done & what gone thro for me
My last earnd sixpence will I brake wi' thee
& when my dwindld sum wornt more divide
Then take the all—to fate Ill leave the rest
In helping thee Ill always feel a pride
Nor think Im happy till ye both are blest

IMPROMTU ON FINDING A BIRDS NEST

Fear not little younglings no robber is nigh ye
No unfeeling clown wipes thy screening boughs bye
The poor harmless bees in the flower blooming by ye
Are not more unlikley to wrong ye then I
But foot paths are nigh ye I fear yell be taken
Right glad shoud I be in the next summers grove
If your young songs inform me my doubts are mistaken
Twill be a sweet source of enjoyment to prove

SHIPWRECKD GHOST

Ghost
O open the door on thy william distrest
He longs just to lay his cold head on thy breast

The billows are beating contrary
They feign woud have rolld oer his rest in his grave
But he beetld the rock & he dasht the salt wave
To take a farwell of his mary

Mary
I list somthing surely was calling to me
Ive opend the window but nought can I see
Go sleep thou impertinent fairy
I neer did thee harm to disturb my repose
To kill me wi news of his sea faring woes
Poor williams far off from his mary

Ghost
O the night it is dark & the fogs gather deep
Thy eyes are yet dimd wi the visions of sleep
Blame thou no impertinent fairy
All hamperd wi sea weeds all clotted wi blood
From the wounds of the rock i' the rude dashing flood
He fears to be loathd by his mary

Mary
Ah thou art no william thy voice is too broad
Tis more like the croak of the night walking toad
My williams was quite the contrary
He spoke like an angel his eyes they were bright
Twas as vainly to hide em as stars in the night
As sweet woud they shine on his mary

Ghost
Ah closd are his eyes on the billows affloat
The salt waters ‘gug-gug—gug-gug’ down his throat
Well well may his speech seem contrary
Hoarse in the cold sea the waves mix in his wound
If thoult see thy william this instant come down
Hes short time to stay with his mary

Mary
Ah there is my william O god how he bleeds
O faint not Ill free thy poor head from its weeds
& flew to the door like a fairy
But ere she coud open the clock tolled one
The night was all silent—her william was gone
& never more wakend his mary

BALLAD

[Warm passions of love first the maidens heart heaving]

Warm passions of love first the maidens heart heaving
The choice of her bosom what pleasure he proves
In the cool hour of even days labours a leaving
& shunning the town for the peace of the groves
There kisses impassiond upon her lips breathing
As sweet as the garden of eden ere knew
There all his fond wishes his arms round em wreathing
Wi both bosoms beating in unison true

She neer looks the day but she longs to discover
What sleeping or waking her fancy keeps near
She neer feels a wish but it flies to her lover
& sighs for returns of being loved as dear
She neer feels a joy but his presence inspireth
She neer looks a smile but his eyes meet a share
Nor time never weakens nor custom neer tireth
If beautys temptations she sees em but there

She breaths scarce a word but her lovers name shares it
& to ease her fond heart of the burthen it bears
In days painful abscence she often declares it
By speaking too warm in his praise unawares
O love its first passion the maidens heart heaving
The choice of her bosom what pleasure he proves
At the cool hour of even days labours a leaving
& meeting his all in the shade of the groves

ADDRESS TO MY FATHER AFTER RECIEVING AN EASY CHAIR FROM THE RIGHT HON LADY—

Calm resignation meets a happy end
& providence long trusted brings a friend

Gods will be done be patient & be good
Elisha was & ravens brought him food
& so wast thou my father fates decree
Doomd many evils shoud encompass thee
& like Elisha tho it met thee late
Patience unwearied did not vainly wait
Thou hast my father long been usd to pine
& patient bore thy pain great pain was thine
Thou hast submitted ah & thou hast known
The roughest storms that life has ever blown
Patient as lambs twas met thou bowd resignd
Tho often prayd a better place to find
Twas nought presumptious—meekly lowly gave
When pains rackt sore—some easment in the grave
To lay thy aching body down in peace
Where want & pain poor mans tormenters cease
Twas all thou wisht—& not till lat[e]ley wisht
When age came on & pain thy strength had crusht
There stood thy childern ah thou oft woud sigh
‘Lets see my babes brought up & let me die
‘Tho what I do brings them but little food
‘It better keep them then a work house woud
‘Ive small enticement in this world to find
‘But coud not rest if they was left behind’—
Bless thee my father thoust been kind to me
& god who saw it will be kind to thee
Now pains thats markt thee long wi ages scars
& age wi double blow thy end prepares
A crooked wreck the marks of what has been
Toil want & pain now but too plainly seen
Thoust met wi friends who joys to damp despair
& when most needed brought thy easy chair
An easy seat thy wasted form to bless
& make thy usless limbs to pain thee less

& may thou long enjoy the blessing given
Live long to bless them who the deed has done
Merrit from earthly pains the joys of heaven
So beats the bosom of thy only son
Whose joy is at its height whose long hopes crownd
To prove when wanted most thy friends are found

SONNET

[Come darling summer wi thy many charms]

Come darling summer wi thy many charms
Thy shade of ripe broad leaves so long deserted
Two rapturd loves thats many a day been parted
Cant feel more happy in each others arms
Then I at meeting thee—as open hearted
As is the singing bird who chaunts thy praise
I mingle wi the breeze & stretch me down
Neath the broad oaken branches tingd wi brown
& on the charms that deck thy bosom gaze
The wood bine flowers wi many a twine & twine
That up the hazels topmost branches strays
How sweetly wild—& roseys in decline
Hing waining loath to leave the charms thats thine
Which I shoud love to witness many days

SONG

[My first love was sweet as the musk rose or nearly]

My first love was sweet as the musk rose or nearly
Her eyes were as bright as the skyes azure blue
My first love had charms which I valued more dearly
Her heart beat wi virtue now known but to few
How sweet was her look when I first did behold her
She bowd like the liley surcharged wi rain
She blushd ah & sighd when my love tale I told her
& feign had resisted the kisses I taen

& when she thought true all the warmness I told her
In sweetest embraces as chaste as the dove
Like bowing ripe rose bud she hung oer my shoulder
& breathd out her soul in the sweetness of love
She sighd & woud tremble in doubts of being cheated
& artless confessions of[t] told em to me
But its no use repeating what'll neer be repeated
Ive felt the hours anguish that parted wi' thee

HOLLYWELL

Nature thou inspire the song
To thee the simple lines belong
Inspird as brushing hill & dell
I strolld the way to holy well

Tho neath young aprils watery sky
The sun gleamd warm & roads were dry
& tho the valleys bush & tree
Stood still as naked on the lea
A flush of green & freshing glow
In melting patches gun to show
That swelling buds woud soon again
In summers livery bless the plain
The thrushes too gun clear their throats
& got by heart some two 'r three notes
Of their intended summer song
To cheer me as I strolld along
The wild heath triumphd in its scenes
Of goss & lings perpetual greens
& just to say that spring was come
The vi'let left its woodland home
& hermit like from storms & wind
Sought the best shelter it coud find
Neath long grass banks wi feeble powers
Peeping faintly purple flowers
While oft unhousd from beds of ling
The fluskering pheasant took to wing
& bobbing rabbits wild & shy
Their white tails glancing on the eye
Just prickt their long ears listning round
& sought their coverts under ground
The heath was left & then at will
A road swept gently round the hill
From whose high crown as soodling bye
A distant prospect charmd my eye
Of closes green & fallows brown
& distant glimpse of cot & town
& steeple beckning on the sight
By morning sunbeams painted white
& darksome woods wi shadings sweet
To make the landscape round compleat

& distant waters glistning bye
As if the ground was patchd wi sky
While on the blue horisons line
The far off things did dimly shine
Which wild conjecture only sees
& fancy moulds to clouds & trees
& thinks if thither she coud flye
Shed find the close of earth & sky—
& as she turns to look again
On nearer objects wood & plain
So lovley truths to fictions seem
One warms as wak'ning from a dream
The covert hedge from either side
The black bird flutterd terryfied
Mistaking me for pilfering boy
That but too oft their nests destroy
& ‘prink prink prink’ they took to wing
In snugger shades to build & sing
From tufted grass or bush the hare
Oft sprung from her endangerd lare
Suprise een startld on her rout
So near ones feet she bolted out
The sun each tree top mounted oer
& got church steeple height or more
& as I soodld on & on
The ground was warm to look upon
It een invited one to rest
& have a nap upon its breast
But thought upon my journeys end
Where doubtful fancys did depend
Urgd on my lazy feet to roam
As truant school boys kept from home
I opt each gate wi idle swing
& stood to listen ploughmen sing
While cracking whip & gingling gears
Recalld the toils of boyis[h] years

When like to them I took my rounds
Oer elting moulds of fallow grounds
Wi feet neer shooless paddling thro
The bitterst blasts that ever blew
Wi napless beaver weatherd brown
That want oft wore wi out its crown
A poor unfriended ragged boy
Prest ere a child wi mans employ
Tis past—tis gone—in musings lost
So thought I leaning oer the post
& even jumpt wi joy to see
Kind fate so highly favour me
To clear the storms of boyish hours
& manhoods opening strew wi flowers
To bid such hopes mans summer blow
As boys weak spring dare never sow
& every day desires at will
To make each hope bloom brighter still
Wi joys as sweet as heart coud melt
Wi feelings dear as ere was felt
I met at last as like a spell
The witching views of Holy well
Where hills towrd high their crowns wi pride
& vales dropt head long by their side
Bestript wi shades of green & gray
The furdale & the naked tree
While underneath their mingling grains
The river silverd down the plains
& bolting on the strangers sight
As stars blink out from clouds at night
Beside the stream a cotters shed
Low in the hollow heavd its head
Its tennants seemd most snug to dwell
As lives a bee wi in its cell
Its chimley top high ash embowers
Beside its wall the river powers

Its guggling sounds in wirling sweep
That een might lull a child to sleep
Before the door untrod wi pads
The green sward many a beauty adds
& daisey there & cowslip too
& butter cups of golden hue
The childern meet as soon as sought
& gain their wish as soon as thought
Who oft I ween the childerns way
Will leap the thresholds bounds to play
& spite of parents chiding calls
Will straggle where the water falls
& neath the hanging bushes creep
For vi'let bud & primrose peep
& sigh wi anxious eager dream
For water blobs amid the stream
& up the hill side turn anon
To pick the daiseys one by one
Then anxious to their cottage bound
To show the prize their searches found
Whose medly flowers red white & blue
As well can please their parents too
Which from the care their skill contrives
In flower pots many a day survives
Ah thus conjecturing musing still
I cast a look from off the hill
& lolld me gen a propping tree
& thought for then as twas wi me
I did the same in april time
& spoilt the daiseys earliest prime
Robd every primrose root I met
& oft times got the root to set
& joyful home each nose gay bore
& felt as I shall feel no more
The bridge now gaind

DESCRIPTION OF A THUNDER STORM

Slow boiling up on the horisons brim
Hugh massey clouds mountainious large & grim
Sluggish & slow upon the air they ride
As pitch black ships oer the blue ocean glide
Curling & hovering oer the gloomy south
As curls the sulphur from the canons mouth
More grizly in the sun the tempest comes
& thro the wood wi threatnd vengance hums
Hissing more loud & loud among the trees
The frighted wild wind trembles to a breeze
Just turns the leaf in terryf[y]ing sighs
Bows to the spirit of the storm & dies
In wild pulsations beats the heart of fear
At the low rumbling thunder creeping near
Like as Ive heard the rivers flood confind
Thro the gulld locks hang grumbling on the wind
The poplar leaf now resteth on its tree
& the mill sail once twirling rapidly
Lagging & lagging till each breeze had dropt
Abruptly now in hesitation stopt

The very cattle gaze upon the gloom
& seemly dread the threatnd fate to come
The little birds sit mute wi in the bush
& natures very breath is stopt & hush
The shepherd leaves his unprotected flock
& flies for shelter in some scooping rock
There hides in fear from the dread boding wrath
Lest rocks shoud tremble when it sallies forth
& that almighty power that bids it roar
Has seald the doom when time shall be no more
The cotters family cringe round the harth
Where all is saddnd but the crickets mirth
The boys thro fear in sut black corner push
& tween their fathers knees for saftey crush
Each leaves his play thing on the brick bard floor
The idle top & ball can please no more
& oft above the wheels unceasing thrum
The murmurs heard to wisper is it come
Now glooms the clouds more dismal on the eye
More hughe more fearful & of deeper dye
& as unable to light up the gloom
The sun drops sinking in its bulging tomb
& as one fearful glizes on the skye
Short vivid lightnings catch upon the eye
While like to rumbling armies as it where
The 'proaching thunder mutters on the ear
& still keeps creeping on more loud & loud
& stronger lightnings splinter thro the cloud
While expectation waits the terror near
An awstruck monument of hope & fear

That dreadful clap that terminates suspence
When ruin meets us or is banishd hence—
The signals gave—in that explosive flash
One moments pause—amid the clouds hell black
& then the red fire bolt & horrid crash
—Almighty what a shock—the jostld wrack
Of nature seems in mingld ruins done
Astounded echo rives the terrors back
& tingles on the ear a dying swoon
Flash peel & flash still rend the melting cloud
All nature seems to sigh her race is oer
& as she shrinks neath chaos' dismal shroud
Gives meek consent that suns shall shine no more
Where is the sinner now wi carless eye
Will look & say that all is chances wim
When hell een trembles at gods majesty
& sullen owns that nought can equal him
But clouds now melt like mercy into tears
& nature[s] lord his wrath in kindness stops
Each trembling cotter now delighted hears
The rain fall down in heavy pattering drops
The sun gins tremble thro the cloud again
& a slow murmur wakes the delug'd plain
A murmur of thanks giving mixt wi fear
For gods great power & our deliverance here

TO THE MUSE

Musey heres luck wi ten times ten
Full bumpers fill agen & gen
I feel the bind of bay boughs plain
L---d look upon us
Im most fit going beside my sen
To meet such honours

I thought ye once mock favours hurld
& bay leaves round my temples curld
Just as a boys foolscaps unfurld
To show disgrace
& laugh & tell the critic world
My piteous case

I hopd & feard (no guilty doddy
That to the hemp condemns his body
Coud suffer worse)—the L---d good g*d aye
My trembling shanks
Coud scarce by times bear up my body
To think yer pranks

But now thy sun thoust lent me shine wi't
Poems thy powers paint many a line wi't
The mist is spread that tryd to hide it
& thro thy smile
God bless thee I say 'n every climate
Im known for miles

SONG

[Mary leave thy lowly cot]

Mary leave thy lowly cot
When thy thickest jobs are done
When thy friends will miss the[e] not
Mary to the pasture run
Where we met the other night
Neath the bush upon the plain
Be it dark or be it light
Ye may guess we'll meet again

Shoud ye go or shoud ye not
Never shilly shally dear
Leave yer work & leave yr cot
Nothing need ye doubt or fear
Chaps may tell ye lies in spite
Calling me a roving swain
Think what passd the other night
Then Ill bound yell meet again

TO A COWSLIP EARLY

Cowslip bud so early peeping
Warmd by aprils hazard hours
Oer thy head tho sunshines creeping
Hind it threatnd temp[e]sts lower

Trembling blossom let me bear thee
To a better safer home
Tho a fairer blossom wear thee
Near a tempest there shall come

Marys bonny breasts to charm thee
Bosom soft as down can be
Eyes like any suns to warm thee
& scores of sweets unknown to me
Ah for joys thoult there be meeting
In a station so divine
I'd 'most wish thats vain repeating
Cowslip bud thy life were mine

SONG

[Mary mary charming mary]

Mary mary charming mary
Now the sun has sunk to rest
& the even breeze so airy
Tries to bare thy snowy breast
How I love wi thee to wander
Mary o how sweet wi thee
Dusky meadows to meander
Where no soul can hear or see

As we pause by lake or fountain
On thy bosom bending free
Ah how sweet sensations counting
When I know each throbs for me

As thy face turns on the azure
Looking where the moon may dwell
As I fold thy beautys treasure
Wheres the kiss can taste so well

As the hour of even closes
& my lingering wi thy charms
Plants thy cheek wi maiden roses
& thy modesty alarms
Who sweet girl coud not adore thee
& tho beauty thee has blest
When that modesty comes oer thee
Prove that virtue pleases best

BALLAD

[My mother will have it Im nought but a ninney]

My mother will have it Im nought but a ninney
For letting the roving young willey be mine
& says hell neer wed longs my name it is Jinney
She fancies she sees thro his deepest design
& deuce take her bother twill never be ended
It gins wi the morn & but closes wi day
She knows I shall wish when'ts too late to repent it
Id taen her good caution & turnd him away

Do as she will I mun 'gern & abide by't
Willys the lad that is all unto me
Had she lovd as I do shed never go chide it
But old ones forget what young years usd to be

Think what he sed to me yesterday even
He may kiss & trifle tis harmless as play
Mother may scold till shes shut out of heaven
Chance falls too seldom to turn it away

& now the hour proaches his vows to repeat 'em
Mother may chide me Ill bound hell be true
Scold while shes easy Ill neer miss to meet him
Evens broad shadow stains deep oer the dew
Sure in the time that he vowd hes mistaken
Neer woud he leave me so lonly to wait
O Willi' if yeve wrongd me my fears gins to waken
I dread mothers hints of repenting too late

HEREAFTER

Ah when this world & I have shaken hands
& all the frowns of this sad life got thro
When from pale care & sorrows dismal lands
I turn a welcome & a wisht adieu
How blest & happy to eternal day
To endless happiness wiout a pain
Will my poor weary spirit sail away
That long long lookd for ‘better place’ to gain
How sweet the scenes will open on her eyes
Where no more troubles no more cares anoy
All the sharp brambles of this life torn bye
& safley moord in heavens eternal joy
Sweet will it seem to fates oppresed worm
As trembling sun beams creeping from the storm

EARLY SPRING

Winter is past—the little bee resumes
Her share of sun & shade & oer the lea
Hums its first hymnings to the flowers perfumes
& wakes a sense of gratfulness in me
The little daisey keeps its wonted pace
Ere march by april gets disarmd of snow
A look of joy opes on its smiling face
Turnd to that power that suffers it to blow
Ah pleasant time as pleasing as ye be
One still more pleasing, hope reserves for me
Where suns unsetting one long summer shine
Flowers endless bloom where winter neer destroys
O may the good mans righteous end be mine
As I may witness these unfading joys

SUMMER

How sweet when weary dropping on a bank
Turning a look around on things that be
Een feather headed grasses spindling rank
A trembling to the breeze one loves to see

& yellow buttercups where many a bee
Comes buzzing to its head & bows it down
& the great dragon flye wi gauzy wings
In gilded coat of purple green or brown
That on broad leaves of hazel basking clings
Fond of the sunny day—& other things
Past counting pleases one while thus I lye
But still reflective pains are not forgot
Summer somtime shall bless this spot when I
Hapt in the cold dark grave can heed it not

THE ANTS

What wonder strikes the curious while he views
The black ants city by a rotten tree
Or woodland bank—in ignorance we muse
Pausing amazd we know not what we see
Such government & order there to be
Some looking on & urging some to toil
Dragging their loads of bent stalks slavishly
& whats more wonderful—big loads that foil
One ant or two to carry quickly then
A swarm flocks round to help their fellow men
Surely they speak a language wisperingly
Too fine for us to hear & sure their ways
Prove they have kings & laws & them to be
Deformed remnants of the fairy days

BALLAD

[When we met last love on midsummer even]

When we met last love on midsummer even
Wi' a sweet bower of wild roseys our screen
When dewey flowers to thy bosom was given
As thou entrancd on my shoulder did lean
There as in warmness of love I caressd thee
Kerchiefing thy bosom to shield from the rain
Ah little as then worst of anguish opprest me
To think from that hour we shoud neer meet again

Sweet fell the dews on the arbour that bound us
Sweet in the runlet the clouds glided bye
Sweet shot the beam of the silver moon round us
Revealing thy smiles & the glance of thy eye
Sweet smelt the wood bine that hung oer our shoulders
But sweetness alas had invited in vain
Had fate broken silence & all he knew told us
Oh—told us that we shoud meet never again

Ah little I thought when I kisst & caressd thee
‘Good bye’ from thy lips wi such omens did fall
Ah little I thought as I lookd back & blest thee
That look was in earnest for once & for all
‘Good bye’ how it fell on the breeze of the even
Een silence in sighs seemd to murmur the strain
& fancy now thinks as our last look was leaving
‘Good bye’ it repeated yell neer meet again

MILTON ABBEY

Here grandure triumphs at its topmost pitch
In gardens groves & all that life beguiles
Here want too meets a blessing from the rich
& hospitality for ever smiles
Soldier or sailor from his many toils
Here finds no cause to rail at pomp & pride
He shows his scars & talks of battles broils
& wails his poverty & is supplyd
No dogs bark near the fainting wretch to chide
That bows to misery his aged head
& tells how better luck did once betide
& how he came to beg his crust of bread
Here he but sighs his sorrows & is fed
Mansion of wealth by goodness dignified

SONG

[Lonely oer the heaths to ramble]

Lonely oer the heaths to ramble
Mary thou my partner be
Down the cool lanes lind wi bramble
Mary wind the brook wi me

Tho before in glooms surrounded
When encircld in thy arms
Beating heart wi troubles wounded
Throbs to rest on marys charms

Mary when trees shadow reaches
Staulkingly across the plain
Thine & mine when evening stretches
Like two giants oer the plain
Thens the time the pleasures stealeth
Which I often wish to see
Thens the time my bosom feeleth
All its joy belongs to thee

Then may fortune shower her treasures
On [her] highly favourd few
Little shall we miss the pleasures
Mary that we never knew
Fate & fortune keep contrary
Grant but one request to me
Bless me wi the charms of mary
Little else Ill need of thee

AFTER READING IN A LETTER PROPOSALS FOR BUILDING A COTTAGE

Beside a runnel build my shed
Wi' stubbles coverd oer
Let broad oaks oer its chimley spread
& grass plats grace the door

The door may open wi a string
So that it closes tight
& locks too woud be wanted things
To keep out thieves at night

A little garden not too fine
Inclosed wi painted pails
& wood bines round the cot to twine
Pind to the wall wi nails

Let hazels grow & spindling sedge
Bent bowering over head
Dig old mans beard from woodland hedge
To twine a summer shade

Beside the threshold sods provide
& build a summer seat
Plant sweet briar bushes by its side
& flowers that smelleth sweet

I love the sparrows ways to watch
Upon the cotters sheds
So here & there pull out the thatch
As they may hid[e] their heads

& as the sweeping swallows stop
Their flights along the green
Leave holes within the chimney top
To paste their nest between

Stick shelves & cupboards round the hut
In all the holes & nooks
Nor in the corner fail to put
A cubboard for the books

Along the floor some sand Ill sift
To make it fit to live in
& then Ill thank ye for the gift
As somthing worth the giving

SONNET

[Childhood meets joys so easy every where]

Childhood meets joys so easy every where
Charmd & delighted wi but every scene
Ah was I still a child the names so dear
How odd a change of feelings intervene
Still former things that pleasd me interfere
& I may view them but its usless now
No joys abound for me—still sad & drear

My eye turns from them like as autumns bough
Is stript of foliage by the winter winds
So the rough usuage manhoods station finds
Sweet childhoods every feeling sweeps away
Choaking the ripling channel whence they flow
Forbidding every flower of bliss to stay
To give the naked stem a keener blow

IN HILLY WOOD

How sweet to be thus nestling deep in boughs
Upon an ashen stoven pillowing me
Faintly are heard the ploughmen at their ploughs
But near an eye can find its way to see
The sun beams scarce molest me wi a smile
So thick the leafy armies gather round
& where they do the breeze blows cool the while
Their leafy shadows dancing on the ground
—Full many a flower too wishing to be seen
Perks up its head the hiding grass between—
In midwood silence thus how sweet to be
Where all the noises that on peace intrude
Comes from the chittering cricket bird & bee
Whose songs have charms to sweeten solitude

A COPSE IN WINTER

Shades tho yere leafless save the bramble spear
Whose weather beaten leaves of purple stain
In hardy stubborness cling all the year
To their old thorns till spring buds new again
Shades still I love ye better then the plain
For here I find the earliest flowers that blow
While on the bare blea bank does yet remain
Old winters traces little heaps of snow
Beneath your ashen roots primroses grow
From dead grass tufts & matted moss once more
Sweet beds of vi'lets dare again be seen
In their deep purple pride & sweet displayd
The crow flowers creeping from the naked green
Adds early beautys to thy sheltering shade

SONNET

[The sunbeams twinkling thro disparting boughs]

The sunbeams twinkling thro disparting boughs
The long lank shadow of the bowing reed
The frequent plashing of the plunging cows
That on weak water grasses wade to feed

Startling the moor hen where she loves to breed
Breaking the bulrush down that hides her nest
Where haply shoud the school boys rambles lead
The pleasing sight will warm his little breast
To gain the prize nor is much danger guest
Tho wi a stick he carful met[e]s his way
Prizing the eggs as mizers woud their gold
Then hurrying home as Ive done many a day
To string 'em up—O joys but vainly told
No charm returns ye or deludes your stay

TO CAPTAIN SHERWILL JUN.

& god be wi ye neighbour sherry
Or wither in a coaching wherry
Or horse or foot the muse right merry
Greets ye in ryhme
To say yer welcome here to ferry
At any time

& tho my good old friend & croney
Ye know my pockets scant o' money
& want ye knows thin facd & boney
But if ye start
Ill welcome ye on coach or poney
Wi hand & heart

My last bank bill Ill soon be cashing
For bread & cheese & barley washing
While straw thats stood the la'brers thrashing
Yer nag picks oer
Twill keep him just an hour from bashing
If nothing more

& as ye drive in town together
Ye neednt stan' no clownish blether
To ask gawk fools this that & tother
To find me out
Hold to the cross that points the weather
Then right about

& there yell find your ryhme importer
Not like as lunons learned quarter
But stewd mong fools of lowest order
In cottage nook
That sees much ryhme in bricks & mortar
As in a book

& ye need dread no vile accroaches
When ye yer servants door aproaches
Nor think ye smell some evil broaches
Like lunon scouts
Tho ninneys stare at gilded coaches
Theyre harmless louts

& list their tales of ploughs & waggons
& hear their horse blood boasts & braggings
& join wi them their neighbours wragging[s]
& swear & lie
& then yell suit these rude cag maggings
As well as I

& shoud ye drive here helter skelter
Ill 'vide yr nag tight stabling shelter

& shoud ye in a carriage kelter
Theres boys may be
To hold yer horse heads bridle helter
For penny fee

&'s no false brags shall spoil yr funning
Ive no new ale mind fit for tunning
Nor barrels wi a remnant running
But kaken croney
A sign nigh hand his face is sunning
& Ive got money

& Ive a mother good old cre'tur'
Will serve for cook instead o' better
Nick nacks & things her skill may fetter
Thats made by books
But Ill engage wi flower & water
Shes queen o' cooks

Theres none turns pancakes trig & slighter
Theres none makes barley dumplings lighter
Three towns about no neighbours tighter
That Ill be bound
I fear yr humble friend invitor
Wornt so befound

I hate 'bout clo'hs & pride to crack
But yell excuse my bumptious clack
Else 'paring now wi times while back
In troubles dire
Youd say wi neighbours humble Jack
Had turnd Esquire

Im none of those that wants consceal
She once hung horrid at my heel
& tetherd me at barn or field—
God knows poor folks
One neednt wonder why they steal
When want pr[o]vokes

But sin' old fortune hearty chap
Thought brother like wi smiles to clap
Fine feathers in my ryhming cap
Friends not a few
Cold comforts fled wi wants mishap
So lets pursue

Let ye come helps'on' when ye will come
Mind ye old crone my homes yer welcome
As any friend that ever shall come
To bless my door
As far as middle means can call home
I can no more

Postscript

My brains god knows as lind wi leather
Cant think o' things an hour together
Else ere Id closd my ryhming blether
I meant ye see
To friends who smiles my summer weather
Yed 'member me

Theres Admiral R[adstock] death take him never
& lords unknown fate leave for ever
Consceit thou mayst plant thy beaver
Tip top thy crown
To think that Lords have thought thee cleaver
& praisd a clown

Theres T[aylo]r muses good old chuckey
That like a carful hen or duckey
Brought off her brood that long unlucky
Unhatchd had lain
& where bad words their plumes did muckey
Washt out the stain

& theres old scotias darling piper
Where critisism ruff hewd griper

Slinks away her hissing viper
Sun burnt wi's fame
No helcon waterd blossom riper
—There gi' my name

Nor am I shamd to ownt before ye
Ere sin her prince o ryhming glory
Ga' me his notice thro yer story
That muse so proud
Turns up her nose from pastures moorey
& snuffs the clouds

& heres her love to all together
Ye who have loosd poor muse from tether
& while this worlds ball sticks the gether
My brave old croney
& lifes bleachd bodies stans the weather
Yours signeth Johnney

TO A RED CLOVER BLOSSOM

Sweet bottle shaped flower of lushy red
Born when the summer wakes her warmest breeze
Among the meadows waving grasses spread
Or neath the shade of hedge or clumping trees
Bowing on slender stem thy heavy head
In sweet delight I view thy summer bed
& hark the drone of heavy humble bees
Along thy honeed garden gailey led
Down corn field striped balks & pasture leas—

Fond warmings of the soul that long has fled
Revives my bosom wi their sweetness still
As I bend musing oer thy ruddy pride
Recalling days I dropt upon a hill
& cut my oaten trumpets by thy side

ENGLAND

‘England with all thy faults I love the[e] still
‘My country & while yet a nook is left
‘Where english minds & manners may be found
‘Shall be constrained to love thee’
Cowper

England my country mong evils enthralling
Where is the name that is dearer then thine
Where is the heart so detests in thy falling
Or woud beat wi more sorrows to see it then mine
England my country theres villians woud crush thee
Thats shouting out freedom dissention to sow
In this hour of danger I heartily wish thee
That source of protection I cannot bestow

England thou word so enchantingly sounding
Thy name in my heart thrilling raptures renew
& may thy base natives their mother land wounding
Meet the resentment of those that are true

Sharp tho the rod of restriction may bind thee
& freedom may groan wi much load over powerd
Better keep laws that have ages confind thee
Then loose them to wolves & be instant devourd

England pretenders arise for thy freedom
Alas but false prophets the best of em be
Christians was warnd of such spys not to heed em
Most surely their secrets the ruin of thee
Cut throat assasins of vandal & tarter
Once over[r]an nations that hopd to be free
Be weak land & trust em & thou art the martyr
I tell thee their triumphs the ruin of thee

England return to past days for a caution
Where foul excesses have blotted thy page
Where rebel hypocrites maskd wi devotion
Showerd down upon thee the blackest of rage
Look at thy state in their power—was it freedom
Laws broke & kings murderd was that to be free
While basest of savages lurkd to succeed 'em
Ah look back & think what the present may be

England thoust reason such times to remember
Thy wounds then recieved never healed will be
& mark as in ashes there still lurks the ember
To stir up thy weakness & then ruin thee
Never again do thou forfeit thy glory
Wading thro bloodshed in hopes to be free
Never let hist'ry repeat such a story
Look at whats past as a caution for thee

England be patient your chains may be tiring
Still better slaves in a land of your own
Then yield up to traitors to vainess aspiring
& banishd as slaves into deserts unknown

England be patient & bear your chains lightly
Tho in gauld fetters bound down as ye be
Freedoms hid sunbeams may yet glitter brightly
Still may the day come as ye may be free

England my country I woud not decieve thee
Warm are my wishes that thou shoudst be free
England my voice in thy causes believe me
Are the souls echos entreating for thee
England as yet bear the yoke that is on thee
Still be thou peacfull as hard as it be
Wait & there doubtless may heroes be born thee
Yet may the day come when thou shalt be free

NIGHT

Night spreads upon the plain her ebon pall
Day seems unable to wash out the stain
A pausing truce kind nature gives to all
& fairy nations now have leave to reign

So may conjecturing fancy think & feign
Doubtless in tiney legions now unseen
They venture from their dwellings once again
From keck stalk cavity or hollow bean
Or perfumed bosom of pea flower between
They to the dark green rings now haste to meet
To dance or pay some homage to their queen
Or journey on some pilgrim friend to greet
With rushy switch they urge some beetles flight
& ride to revel ere its morning light

SONNET

[O night o silent night how sweet thy boon]

O night o silent night how sweet thy boon
That gilds so tremblingly the skyes blue vest
In its unclouded charms—the silver moon
Fair as a jewel on a virgins breast
O happiest light by lovers ever blest
How much the maiden joys thy face to see
When meeting him where all her wishes rest
She wanders tremblingly oft blessing thee

The shepherd from his folding task set free
Speaks in thy praise & welcomes thy sweet light
To find the cot where all his hopes may be
There resting rapturd on some maidens charms
Blessing the while the dingy stair of night
Left undetected in his maggys arms

AUTUMN

The summer flower has run to seed
& yellow is the wood land bough
& every leaf of bush & weed
Is tipt wi autumns pencil now

& I do love the varied hue
& I do love the browning plain
& I do love each scene to view
Thats markd wi beauties of her reign

The wood bine trees red berries bare
That clustering hang upon the bower
While fondly lingering here & there
Peeps out a dwindling sickly flower

The trees gay dress is turned brown
By every little wind undrest
& as they flap & whistle down
We 'sern the birds deserted nest

No thrush or black bird meets our eye
Nor fills our ear wi summers strain
They but dart out for worm & flye
Then silent seek their rest again

Beside the brook in mistey blue
Billberries glow on tendrils weak
Where many a barefoot splashes thro
The pulpy juicy prize to seek

For tis the rustic boys delight
Now autumns sun so warmly gleams
& these ripe berries tempt his sight
To dabble in the shallow streams

& oft their rambles we may trace
Delvd in the mud their printing feet
& oft we meet a chubby face
Stained wi the berries sweet

The cow boy oft slives down the brook
& tracks for hours each winding round
While pindars that such chances look
Drives his rambling cows to pound

The wood land bowers that usd to be
Lost to their silence & their shade
Are now a scene of rural glee
Wi many a nutting swain & maid

The scrambling shepherd wi his hook
Mong hazel boughs of rusty brown
Oerhanging side some gulping brook
Drags the ripend clusters down

While on a bank of faded grass
Some artless maid the prize recieves
& happy for the suntand lass
If nutts be all the shepherd gives

I love the years decline & love
Thro rustling yellow shades to range
Oer stubble land neath willow grove
To pause upon each varied change

I oft [have] thought twas sweet to list
The stubbles crackling wi the heat
Just as the sun broke thro the mist
& warmd the herds mans rushey seat

& grunting noise of rambling hogs
Where pattering acorns oddly drop
& noisey bark of shepherds dogs
The restless routs of sheep to stop

While distant threshers swingel drops
Wi sharp & hollow twanking raps
& nigh at hand the echoing chops
Of hardy hedger stopping gaps

The sportsmens trembling whistle calls
That stay the swift retreating pack
& cowboys whoops & squawking brawls
To urge the straggling heifer back

Autumn time thy scenes & shades
Are pleasing to the tastful eye
Tho winter when the thought prevades
Creates an ague shivering sigh

Grey bearded ryhmes hang on the morn
& whats to come too true declares
The ice drop hardens on the thorn
& winters starving bed prepares

No musics heard the fields among
Save where the hedge chats chittering play
& ploughman drawls his lonley song
As cutting short the dreary day

Hail natures scenes in lifes decline
Ye woods & field wore bare & rude
Your rudest meting scenes are mine
& mine your gloomy solitude

The shatterd shades let me attend
Reflecting look on their decline
Where pattering leaves confess their end
In sighing flutterings hinting mine

For every leaf that twirls the breeze
May usful hints & lessons give
The fall of leaves & fading trees
Will learn & caution us to live

Wandering clown they seem to say
In us your coming end review
Like you we livd but now we die
The same sad fate approaches you

As mortal as the leaves you sing
Sad subject to the like decay
To morrow autumns blight may bring
Your journey then prepare to day

The meanest trifles we behold
A simple way to wisdom leads
Some usful lessons all unfold
Which simple wisdom plainly reads

O autumn while each varied charm
My artless warming soul admires
My songs too may thy beauties warm
& let me sing as thou inspires

Beneath a yellow fading tree
As red suns light thy autumn morn
In wildest raptures let me see
The sweets that most thy charms adorn

Be fading woods & fields the theme
Such scenes as most to thee belongs
Where countless beauties round me teem
Such as may grace my simple songs

O while my eye the landscape views
What birthless beauties are displayd
What varied tints of namless hues
Shades endless melting into shade

A russet red the hazel gains
As suiting to its drear decline
While maples brightest dress retains
& in the gayest yellows shine

The poplar tree hath lost its pride
In wan consumption leaves decline
They hoary turn on either side
& life to every gale resign

The stubborn oak wi haughty pride
Still in its lingering green we view
Tho strength he shows but vainly tryd
Betinging slow wi sickly hue

The proudest triumph art concieves
Or beauties natures power can crown
Grey bearded time in shatters leaves
Destructions trample treads em down

Tis lovley now to turn ones eye
The changing face of heaven to mind
How thin spun clouds glide swiftly bye
Wi lurking storms slow movd behind

Now suns are clear now clouds prevade
Each moment changd & changd again
& first a light & then a shade
Swift glooms & brightens oer the plain

Poor pussey thro the stubble flies
In vain oer powering foes to shun
The lurking spaniel points the prize
& pusseys harmless race is run

The crowing pheasant in the brakes
Betrays his lare wi awkard squawls
A certain aim the gunner take[s]
He clumbsy fluskers up & falls

But hide thee muse the woods among
Nor stain thy artless rural rhymes
Go leave the murderers wiles unsung
Nor mark the hardnd gunners crimes

The fields all cleard the labouring mice
To sheltering hedge & wood patroles
Where hips & haws for food suffice
That chimbld lie about their holes

& squirrel bobbing from the eye
Is busy now about its hurd
& in old nes[t] of crow or pye
His winter stores is oft explord

The leaves now leave the willow grey
& down the brook they wirl & wind
So hopes & pleasures wirl away
& leave a remnant pain behind

The thorns & briars vermillion hue
Now full of hips & haws are seen
If village prophesies be true
They prove too winter will be keen

The brook by hasty showers is swelld
Nor crimpling gravley bottom shows
Een rutts wi muddy force compeld
A dribbling runnel chittering flows

Hark startld are some lonley strains
The robin bird is urgd to sing
Of chilly even he complains
& dithering droops his ruffld wing

Slow oer the wood the puddock sails
& mournful as the storms arise
His peelew note of sorrow wails
To the unpitying frowning skies

More colder blows the autumn breeze
Old winter grins a blast between
The north winds rise & strip the trees
& desolation shuts the scene

TWILIGHT

The setting sun withdraws her yellow light
A Gloomy staining shadows over all
While the brown beetle trumpeter of night
Proclaims his entrance with a droning call
How pleasent now where slanting hazels fall
Thick oer the woodland stile to muse & lean
To pluck a wood bine from the shade withall
& take short snatches oer the moistend scene
While deep & deeper shadows intervene
& leaving fancy moulding to her will
The cots & groves & trees so dimly seen
That seemly dies away more 'sernless still
Leaving a sutty curtain oer the sight
& calmness in the bosom still as night

BALLAD

[Mary fate lent me a moment of pleasure]

Mary fate lent me a moment of pleasure
Just to insure me in ages of pain
Just bid me meet thee & wish for the treasure
To frown back & tell me I wisht it in vain

Just like spring sun shine I met wi thee mary
That shines for a moment & cloudeth again
But alas in our love there is one thing contrary
Fates clouds of that moment cleard never again

Mary fond feelings will never forsake me
Never again tho Im happy wi thee
Hope paints the cure that enrapturd coud make me
Tho fate to torment vows it never shall be
Mary hope wispers some chance in our favour
That still I may gaze on thy beauties once more
But fates bonds are on me that cruel enslaver
& love is not lawful to meet as before

Mary how sweet when love baskd in thy feature
Mary how saddend the sighs rose & fell
Surely those sighs was the instinct of nature
Of future forebodings fate card not to tell
Mary thy smiles still endear our departure
Tho they do haunt me in gloomy deform
Like waining sunbeams the clouds follow after
That just give a glance ere theyre lost in the storm

SPRING

What charms does nature at the spring put on
When hedges unpercievd get staind in green
When even moss that gathers on the stone
Crownd with its little knobs of flowers is seen

& every road & lane thro field & glen
Triumphant boasts a garden of their own
In spite of trampling horse wi cart & plough
& nipping sheep & tented hungry cow
The little daisey finds a place to blow
& where old winter leaves her splashy slough
The lady smocks will not disdain to grow
& dandelions like to suns will bloom
Aside some bank or hillock creeping low
Tho each too often meet an hasty doom
From trampling clowns who heed not where they go

EARLY SORROWS

Full many a sharp sad unprevented thorn
Finds room to wound lifes lacerated flower
Which subtle fate to every mortal born
Guides unprevented in an early hour
Ah cruel thorns too soon I felt your power
Your throbbing shoots of never ceasing pain
Hopes blossoms in their bud did long devour
& left continud my sad eyes to strain
Or wilderd spots choakd up wi sorrows weeds
Alas thats shaken but too many seeds
To leave me room for hopes to bud again
But fate may torture while it is decreed
When all my hopes unblighted blooms remains
That heavens recompence shall this succeed

EVENING

What time the cricket unmolested sings
& blundering beetles try their clumbsy wings
Leave me to meet the sweets of evens hour
By awthorn hedges when the mays in flower
Wi light enough to guide my cautious tread
As not to trample on the daiseys head
Down padded pathways of a wisht extent
As unmolested by the bending bent
That night & morning bowing down wi dew
Sullies the brightness of the maidens shoe
There leave me musing neath the bowering ash
Counting the knoll of bells or spurting dash
Of limmering fountain fall wi wild delight
Till even looses in the blank of night

BALLAD

[A weedling wild on lonley lea]

A weedling wild on lonley lea
My evening rambles chancd to see
& much the weedling tempted me
To crop its tender flower
Exposd to wind & heavy rain
Its head bowd lowly on the plain
& silently it seemd complain
Of lifes endangerd hour

& wilt thou bid my bloom decay
& crop my flower & me betray
& cast my injurd sweets away
Its silence seemly sighd
A moments idol of thy mind
& is a stranger so unkind
To leave a shamfull root behind
Bereft of all its pride

& so it seemly did complain
& beating fell the heavy rain
& low it droopt upon the plain
To fate resignd to fall
My heart did melt at its decline
& come said I thou jem divine
My fate shall stand the storm wi thine
So took the root & all

TO A METHODIST PARSON AFTER HEARING HE HAD SPOKEN VERY ROUGHLY IN MY BELIEF OF GHOSTS &C

Kind sir your reasons may be just
That ghosts & whitches dont exist
& ye may smile wi some disgust
Cause they decieve
Smile on a fool & be I must
Tales to believe

An unbeliever like a many
I once days gone fell out wi granny
My carless talk most turnd her scranny
Wi dread & fear
Till told the like o' h'r sister nanney
Which you shall hear

One who when told of ghosts & witches
Woud call em lanthorn jaws & bitches
& swore all ghosts where things that such as
Fools only spy
L---d keep such out laws from their clutches
Wi gran pray I

She sir woud gloried in your notion
Of reasons courage shed a portion
& she coud better stan to caution
Then gran or I
Reason wi me's days breeze in motion
Which night bids dye

& now to tell the promisd story
Which granny telld for truth before me
Bout what stopt cousins reasoning glory
Ghosts to deny
& sure when grannys head was hoary
She woudnt lye

Twas just at eve when creeple creep
The sun slives to his latest peep
& night glowers round him black & deep
To take his place
When far from home wi carless slip
Was nanneys case

Longer at market she might dwell
Her butter & her eggs to sell
Or sweet hearts in her journey fell
Whats not exprest
The outside facts I only tell
Ye guess the rest

Tho ye may mutter save the trouble
& think my tale a hubble bubble
How nan wer drunk & might see double
Feth Sir yr wrong
Tho low & weak my muse may grubble
Truth guides her song

Down lanes where spirits often stood
Nan hobbld down in carless mood
When out bolts som thing from the wood
& usd her ill
Still she might make her story good
As many will

Else she declard when home she got
Shed oath her very conscence fort
That she coud show the very spot
She scapt its clutch
Nor where the wreek of boiling pot
More hot then's touch

How ere to end Sir further cavel
She actual ownd it was the devil
But what upon his skulking travel
He went about
Twoud give poor virtues heart the gravel
To bolt it out

However gainst whats lovd of course
Folks special ‘maids’ use little force

So if twas nick by grans discourse
He had his will
& thanks gran sed it were no worse
He didnt kill

At length her health began to fag
As wells her reason luckless brag
& like new beer in bursting cag
She gun to swell
Poor granny thought shed turnd a hag
Blown up wi hell

But year had notchd nine months or scarce on
Ere imp wer born by grans discoursing
Nor think your trade I make a farce on
To prove odd rot it
Old nick disguisd like meth'dis' parson
The night he got it

BALLAD

[Ive often had hours to be meeting the lasses]

Ive often had hours to be meeting the lasses
& wisht that the sun in his setting coud stay
& old creeping time a doz'd over his glasses
& make lovers hours at least long as a day
But when at the even loves presence were greeting
Swift as the race horse time seems to spur bye
& when lovers part till the next hour of meeting
As slow as a snail creeps the lagging hours dye

& Ive been wi many as fair as thee mary
& Ive kissd full many a cheek red as thine
& round as soft bosoms in dresses as airy
My arm did full often enrapturd entwine
But never o never such 'lectrified feeling
Ere throbd thro my heart be as fair as they be
When round thy sweet charms my embraces was stealing
My soul stood spectator in presence of thee

The mould of an angel gave birth to thee mary
& all reason startld away from thy charms
My senses mixd vapour in summer gales airy
& thou seemd imortal when rapt in my arms
& Ive met wi blisses & crosses contrary
But that happy moment that blest me wi thee
That heaven crownd swoonings unrivald my mary
Nor can hell be worse then that parting wi thee

BALLAD

[Sweet are the blossoms the summer adorning]

Sweet are the blossoms the summer adorning
Shed in profusion oer meadow & lea
Deckt wi the charms of the dew bedded morning
Ere the suns spangles dry blossom & tree
While as I wander by wood bank & fountain
Hushing my sorrows wi moments decline
Mary selections of blossoms Im counting
To trace in their beauty some likness of thine

The vallies wild liley where wood channels wimple
Neath the rude hazels low blooming unseen
They are thy beauty so artless so simple
Their hue thy two white breasts love bedded between
The warm streaked wood bine that decks the lanes bushes
The soft smelling rose the heaths brambles adorn
These are the paint of thy cheeks maiden blushes
& modestys guardians exprest in the thorn

Alas my sweet mary but mem'ry alarming
Soon starts at lost moments when once we did meet
When I prest that soft bosom so white & so warming
& kissd thy cheeks freshness so lushious & sweet
Soon then from flowers is thy image extinguishd
Still pleasures past sting my soul as before
As I turn to that hour when our bliss was relinquishd
That hour when I left thee to meet thee no more

EXPRESSION

Expression throbbing utterance of the soul
Born when some frenzied bard his muses fires
Bursts oer his feelings in unawd controul
& up to heavens top most height aspires
Stealing the music of some angels song
To tell of all he sees & all admires

Which fancys colours paint so sweet so strong
& to far humbler scenes thou dost belong
In sorrow thou art warm when speaking tears
Down some sad cheek in silence wail their wrong
& ah most sweet expression sweet appears
Thy smiles of gratitude where bosoms bleed
Tho high the lofty poets frenzy steers
In natures simplest garb thourt sweet indeed

IMPROMTU AT THE SIGHT OF SPRING

How sweet it usd to be when april first
Unclosd the arum leaves & into view
Its unlike spindle flowers their cases burst
Betingd wi yellowish white or lushy hue
Tho manhood now wi such has small to do
Else I remember what delight was mine
When on my sunday walks I usd to go
Flower gathering tribes in childish bliss to join
Peeping & searching hedge row side or woods
When thorns stain green wi slow unclosing buds
Ah how delighted humming on the time
Some namless song or tale I sought the flowers
Some rushy dyke to jump or bank to climb
Ere I obtaind em while from hasty showers
Oft under trees we nestld in a ring
Culling our ‘Lords & ladies’—O ye hours

I never see the broad leavd arum spring
Stained wi spots of jet I never see
Those dear delights which april still does bring
But mem'rys tongue repeats it all to me
I view her pictures with an a[n]xious eye
I hear her stories wi a pleasing pain
Youths witherd flowers alas ye make me sigh
To think in me yell never bloom again

CHILDHOOD

What trifles touch our feelings when we view
The simple scenes of childhoods early day
Pausing on spots where gatherd blossoms grew
Or favourd seats of many a childish play
Bush dyke or wood where painted pooteys lay
Where oft ones crept & crept the shades among
Where ivy hung old roots bemossd wi grey
Where nettles oft ones infant fingers stung
& tears woud weep the gentle wounds away
Ah gentle wounds indeed I well may say
To these sad manhoods torturd passage found
Where naked fate each day new pangs does feel
Clearing away the brambles that surround
Inflicting tortures death can only heal

THE VOW

If feelings that fond bosoms move
In sympathy our thoughts coud prove
Then might thou know my only love
That both our hearts agree
If theres a power exists below
That secrets of the soul coud show
Soon beautious emma shoudst thou know
That I was born for thee

& if theres aught beneath to dread
& if a heavens oer my head
Then strike the rash deluder dead
If falsity is mine
May heaven deny its bliss to me
& all to take revenge be free
If ere a beauty face I see
Seems half so sweet as thine

Upon the dewy wings of even
From lovers hearts there neer was given
A vow more worthy room in heaven
Then this Ive breathd the while
& how ere favourd in thy sight
If true love there can give delight
I know ere now my vows to night
Has met an angels smile

A PASTORAL

[Surely Lucy love returns]

Surely Lucy love returns
Tho its meanings ha'n't reveald
Surely love her bosom burns
Which her coyness keeps consceald
Else what means that flushing cheek
When wi her I chance to be
& them looks that a'most speak
A secret warmth of love for me

Woud she where she valued not
Give such proofs of sweet esteem
Think what flowers for me shes got
What can this but fondness seem
When to try their pleasing powers
Swains for her cull every grove
When she takes my meaner flowers
What can guide the choice but love

Wa'n't love witnessd yester night
When two sheep had rambld out
Who but lucy set them right
The token told wi out a doubt
When others stare she turns & frowns
When I but glance a smile I see
When others talk she calls em clowns
But never says such words to me

& when wi swains to love inclind
To bear her milk I often go
Tho they beg first she turns behind
& lingers till I ask her too

Oer stepping stones that cross the brooks
Who minds such trifles plainly see
In vain the shepherds prop their hooks
She always gi's her hand to me

To day while chaps where standing bye
She wishd for roseys from the bower
The man too wishd was in her eye
Tho others flew to get the flower
& striving all they coud to please
When prickt wi thorns they left the tree
She never seemd consernd at these
But only turnd to caution me

To day she carless view[d] the bark
Where many a swain had cut her name
Till wisperd which was collins mark
Her cheek was instant in a flame
In blushing beckons love did call
& courage seizd the chance the while
& tho I kissd her 'fore 'em all
Her worst rebukings wore a smile

BALLAD

[Where the dark ivy the thorn tree is mounting]

Where the dark ivy the thorn tree is mounting
Sweet shielding in summer the nest of the dove
There lies the sweet spot by the side of the fountain
Thats dear to all sweetness that dwells upon love

For there setting sunbeams ere evens clouds close 'em
Once stretchd a long shadow of one I adore
& there I did meet the sweet sighs of a bosom
Of one ever dear tho I meet her no more

& who wi a soul & a share of warm feeling
& who wi a heart that owns love for the fair
Can pass by a spot where his first love was stealing
Or first fondness venturd love tales to declare
Ah who can pass by it & notice it never
Can long days forget on first fondness to call
Sure time kindles love to burn brighter then ever
& natures first choice must be sweetest of all

I prove it sweet mary I prove it too truly
That fountain once sweetnd wi presence of thee
As oft as I pass it at eve & as duly
As may brings the time round I think upon thee
I go & I sit on the soft bed of rushes
As nigh as remembrance the spot can decide
There lonley I wisper in sorrows warm gushes
That bliss when my mary was placd by my side

It grieves me to see the first open may blossom
Mary if still the hours 'memberd by thee
Twas just then thou wisht one to place in thy bosom
When scarce a peep showd itself open to me
Each may wi a tear is that flower & I parted
As near that lovd spot it first peeps on the bower
Ive no cause to pluck thee I sigh broken hearted
Theres no mary nigh to be pleasd wi the flower

SONG

[& when I'm weary of my care]

& when I'm weary of my care
& when I wish to loose a pain
Gi me an easy elbow chair
& bottle full of wine to drain
& gi me two three croney men
Wi song & fun my joys to crown
Some hearty oddlings like my sen
The choicest cocks about the town

& round the sparkling glasses put
& each one take a hearty pull
& like brave boy sit foot to foot
Till sorrows got his belly full
& drink till each can keep his seat
Then held up by his fellow man
Some two three bouts agen repeat
& drown old sorrow if we can

Nor from his bumpers none decline
Till one wi in his seat can keep
Till griefs near chokd chin deep in wine
& sorrows dozd to dream less sleep

& who fails first shall pay his fee
& whos a sinner wine to spill
The judgment on his sins shall be
A bottle from his purse to fill
So drink brave boys till care & pain
To see their weapons usless flye
To see they torture us in vain
Sink idle in despair & dye

SONG

[& here we meet in merry Q]

& here we meet in merry Q
& gis thy hand old bouts to hail
& merry days to keep in view
Ill shake it oer a batch of ale
& heres my old fob lind wi leather
Witholds a corner comfort still
& we will lump our groats together
& strengthen friendship oer a gill

& heres my box o' precious ware
Will cure all pains be what they will
Een worse then toothache pains o' care
Ive known it scores a times to kill
So take nine coins & drink a buss
More ale when morrow comes agen
& health content to stay wi us
But as to wealth mun please her sen

& while my old fob lind wi leather
A corner comfort holds in hand
Well crack our croney cups together
As braves two boys about the land
& whos will be misfortunes debtors
He only holds our wants at bail
Till groat o' luck misfortune betters
Then leaves us free to drink our ale

& here well sit in merry Q
& here well drink old bouts to hail
& merry meetings to renew
While brads will chink well call for ale

& heres my fob thats lind wi leather
& heres my groat a pint to fill
Well crack our croney cups to gether
& bind old friendship stronger still

SONG

[Old winters limpt off & left spring her enjoyment]

Old winters limpt off & left spring her enjoyment
Her kibey heeld fros'es & ague bred snows
Gang setting their backs up else where for employment
& leave may at freedom her beauties to show
The bushes unfold in their light summer dresses
The daisey een ventures her bosom to bare
& sweet as a lover his darling caresses
The sun beams of morning seem fond to creep there

& love be not thou to the season contrary
Theres no fear of tempests to injure thee now
Then take thy light gown for the summer my mary
& let thy best bonnet sit light on thy brow
Make use of the season thoult never be you[n]ger
& spare me thy charms while thou hast em to spare
& throw thy old cloak by as usful no longer
But only old dames like thy mother to wear

& come in the groves wi thy shepherd to dantle
& oer thy soft bosom love nought pin or tie
Save a silk kerchief or white lawny mantle
Thro which thy white breas'es will heave on my eye
& there well seek seats were the leaves grow to close em
& there when Im wearyd wi playing wi thee
I sink down to sleep on thy white throbbing bosom
How sweet will my dreams on that soft p[i]llow be

100

IMPROMTU

[If theres a weapon fate prepares]

If theres a weapon fate prepares
That worst of pangs surrounds
If theres a thorn her envy bears
That pricks the bitterest wounds
Tis when a worthy breast does bleed
In sad misfortunes hour
When hearts woud help a friend in need
That ha'n't it in their power

SONG

[Swamps of wild rush beds & sloughs squashy traces]

Swamps of wild rush beds & sloughs squashy traces
Grounds of rough fallows wi thistle & weed
Flats & low vallies of king cups & daiseys
Sweetest of subjects are ye for my reed
Ye commons left free in the rude rags of nature
Ye brown heaths be cloathed in furze as ye be
My wild eye in rapture adores e'ery feature
Yere as dear as this heart in my bosom to me

101

O native endearments I woud not forsake ye
I woud not forsake ye for sweetest of scenes
For sweetest of gardens that nature coud make me
I woud not forsake ye dear vallies & greens
Tho nature neer dropt thee a cloud resting mountain
Nor water falls tumble their music to thee
Had nature denyd thee a bush tree or fountain
Thou still woud bin lovd as an eden by me

& long my dear vallies long long may ye flourish
Tho rush beds & thistles make most of your pride
May showers never fail the greens daiseys to nourish
Nor suns dry the fountain that rills by its side
Yer skies may be gloomy & misty yer mornings
Yer flat swampy vallies unholsome may be
Still refuse of nature wi out her adorning[s]
Yere as dear as this heart in my bosom to me

BALLAD

[Ere the church bell i the morn had tung four]

Ere the church bell i the morn had tung four
Fudging old Jemmy claumpt over the moor
He cockt up his beaver & nockt at the door
& up wi ye Jenney bawls he
Deuce take him god knows I een wisht him neck braken
But mizerdly dad & old mam was awaken
Who telld me take chance when it is to be taken
So jemmys fair drudge I mun be

102

Tho Id promisd roger full late i' the even
& hed pledgd his honor of fairings being given
Besides invitations from ten or eleven
All better then droning old Jim
But parents full often nick love full of crosses
Old jim he coud brag of his waggons & horses
Obey 'em I mun or abide by the losses
I forcd to go bunting wi him

& pleasd wer his heart & his pockets wer lind too
& fairings he bought me what ere Id a mind too
But sly rascal roger shuffd close up behind too
& gave me a lear from his eye
Old jemmy poor lad all in vain he might bother
Hed taen me too far from the reach of my mother
I humourd him till I got loosd from my tether
Then wi roger I bid him good bye

BALLAD

[& ralph ye have leard a fine language to woo me]

& ralph ye have leard a fine language to woo me
In saying my cheeks wi the roseys may vie
But ralph & what good will these fine praises do me
If loves all the portion weve got to live bye
The rose on the plain may be sweet & perfuming
But what can its beauty avail wi the storm
Full pale is too many a cheek that was blooming
Where povertys marriage is seen to deform

I 'member when I was a young thing wi granney
As high there abouts as this table may be
She once stopt her wheel saying harken tot Nanny
What when yer grown up may be usfull to thee

103

Neer look on the blossom to value its shining
Theres more wears a glitter sides silver & gold
Ye oft see a flower in the spring blast declining
But take yah an old hedge to creep from the cold

& yeve learnd a set of fine words in loves jargon
& these are cold conforts when once they decay
Unless lad yeve money to strengthen the bargain
The lamp light of fondness soon burneth away
Theres want & theres childern loves fire to extinguish
& family troubles of sorrow & care
All thoughts of a wife ralph Id beg ye relinquish
Or seek one more easy to catch in yer snare

Gi me when I marry old safe wi his w[r]inkles
Whose only temptations in gaining a wife
Is his hands in his pockets his guineas to tinkle
& bragging of making her happy for life
Thats all my choice if good lucks my promotion
Ill stick to the story my grandmother told
Bare beauty & youth may please sombody[s] notion
But gi me an old hedge to creep from the cold

THE MOTHERS CAUTION

& Ive told ye hold up yer head my boy robin
& let these poor stuck up fine wenches alone
& yeve got a chance woud ye saddle old dobbin
To go see a lass wi a house of her own

104

Pluck up yer spirits boy on wi the bridle
Tolter old dobbin as fast as ye can
Yer journeys a bargain will pay for being idle
The lass is got that which woud make ye a man

Robin take counsil & think at yer leisure
Dont run yer head ater follies no more
Prides a fools play thing & beautys a treasure
That looses its gilding the moment its wore
Store in yer mind of good cautions a sample
Look rob & think ere ye fall in a crime
Make yer poor fathers old words yer example
Golds not so rich as advice took in time

Dont look at dames boy that toss their heads highly
Pride unsupported is sure of a fall
Never let beautys bare trifle beguile ye
Make ye yer bed boy gen age gis a call
Pies risk their dwellings on oaks high & airy
Just as weak chances & storms may agree
But larks robin hark ye right cautious & wary
Makes a snug nest at the root of the tree

JIMMEYS LAMENT

Feign woud I look back agen in loves morning
& seek love afresh as I neer had begun
Feign woud I make Jenny pay for her scorning
If beauty once tasted wer easy to shun
Alas the sad vows that are pland in vexations
Are made of bad stuff that soon weareth away
Hasty resolves wi out reasons foundations
Are nought but poor dewdrops at heat of the day

105

I went wi dolly this morn to the pasture
New loves few sweets for an uneasy mind
Jenny past by & my heart woud be master
It jumpt in her bosom & left me behind
Seeking new pleasures in love are lost labours
Ill een keep my old love as bad as ye be
Sin my heart & her heart agree to be neeghbours
Surely she ought to be kinder to me

Sports of the Village

SONG

Yesterday night I drest up for the dancing
& vowd for a sweet heart if so it coud be
& no sooner there but a wench fell a glancing
Her eye in loves language ‘Im waiting for thee’
What shoud I do but I quires are ye willing
To go down a dance a few minutes wi me
Be sure ont she were so I outs wi my shilling
& stopt the old scraper to pay him his fee

Then stampt the foot of the scraper to warn us
& off wi the fiddle as pleasd as coud be
I fudgd to the end of the dance were in corners
I often snatchd kisses when no one coud see
I thought how I knac[k]t it & sweet was the beagle
All but what I ought to have taen her to be
Tho her black eye as brazen & bold as the eagle
Oft glanced [in] loves language to more beside me

106

She left me at morn & went home wi another
The sigh was sold cheaply I left wi her then
But curse on her deepness love lightly might bother
I neer dreampt on troubles Id fall in agen
I went to the feast & the beagle there met me
The gleg of her eye was as keen as before
& tryd but as usual all trappings to get me
But I swore to my sen Id be fooled no more

& what did she do but she vowd shed expose me
& gun say Id playd her the follies of youth
& taking in tear drops beslubberd her bosom
Till folks they were foold to believe it the truth
My case to besure it got mighty alarming
Twas provd I had bin wi the bitch by the bye
But as to the deed of her innosence harming
The king on his throne wornt less guil[t]y then I

& she told her griefs in a many sad ditty
& she threatnd poison as wishing to dye
Till old women out wi their snuff rags in pity
To stop the false teardrops that blinkt in her eye
Ah curse on the night I ere gangd to the dancing
The parish hounds forcd the bad bargain on me
Ive payd dear enuff for the hisseys eye glancing
& provd a fools take in I then coudnt see

107

SONG

[& love runs oer a pleasant bed]

& love runs oer a pleasant bed
& tender does its waters flow
& heaven is its fountain head
& sweet the stream it takes below
Mary thro that source divine
That angels soul it flowd to me
Two streams made one in thine & mine
& never more shall parted be

& if pain affects me deeply
Mary thou the scource must be
Other woes' maintained cheaply
If theyre only bore by me
When cares palness over glooms thee
Deaths last pangs are joys to thine
When joy smiles a capture from thee
Heavens joys a shade to mine

Love shall crave no blessing given
Sides a wish to add to thine
I woud wish this world was heaven
As thou might ha' bliss divine
Each thought on hopes pinions flying
Steers its course to see the blest
Flutters round till fates complying
In thy arms then drops to rest

108

SONG

[Woes my sad heart sin in sorrow repining]

Woes my sad heart sin in sorrow repining
Loves gold stamped image first gave me its smile
When I like a fool was alurd by its shining
That all rubbed off when Id wore it awhile
Sympathy joins me bewailing such treasures
Springs early morning wi dews in her eye
Knows but too plainly the worth of her pleasures
& mourns een as I do the love passed bye

Come gentle morning thy mild dewey weather
Tremble thy drops to the summers controul
Thee will I seek & well sorrow together
Silence it self shall speak balm to my soul
While ye bewail the sad sun beams returning
That kills your short joys—they in sympathy shine
As some consolation to thank dewey morning
I find charms to mourn as disembld as mine

SONG

[& wheres there a scene more delightfully seeming]

& wheres there a scene more delightfully seeming
To eyes like to mine that is blinded wi love
Then yon setting sun on the steeple point gleaming
& blue mist deep tinging the edge of the grove

109

Nigh comes the hour that is anxiously waited
Sweet the sensations that glow in the mind
When blisses of love are by fancy elated
As I steal in silence my mary to find

Mary thy worth & thy goodness Ive tryd it
& if a beauty more fairer may be
If the bare world owns a blessing beside it
Who will & welcome may take it for me
Hopes flye to thee & there finish their travels
Wishes look on thee & there they are crownd
All that I hope for thy beautys unravels
All that I wish on thy bosom is found

SONG

[The sultry day it wears away]

The sultry day it wears away
& oer the distant leas
The mist again in purple stain
Falls moist on flower & trees
Their homes to find the weary hind[s]
Glad leave their carts & ploughs
While maidens fair wi bosoms bare
Go cooly to their cows

The red round sun his work has done
& dropt into his bed
& sweetly shines the oaks behind
His curtains fringd wi red

110

& step by step the night has crep
& day as loath retires
But clouds more dark nights entrance mark
Till days last spark expires

Pride of the vales the nightingales
Now charm the oaken grove
& loud & long wi amarous tongue
They try to please their love
& where the rose reviving blows
Upon its sweltered bower
Ill take my seat my love to meet
& wait the 'pointed hour

& like the bird whose joy is heard
Now he his love can join
Who hails so loud the evens shroud
Ill wait as glad for mine
As weary bees oer parched leas
Now meets reviving flowers
So on her breast Ill sink to rest
& bless the evening hours

HODGES CONFESSION

Peggy ye might bin my death wi yer scorning
Im sure tis yer pleasure to do as ye may
For ere sin I helpd ye to milk in the morning
Yeve 'ployd all my thoughts for the rest of the day
Yer sweet slender body so light & so jimping
Yer arms so well shapd & yer brown curley hair
Yer gait so belady like spoilt wi no limping
Left ye the power to gi joy or despair

111

'Sides ere I left ye the breezes to plague me
Puffd by the screne of yer bosom so white
& sure as Im living no shock of an ague
Coud totter me more then I shook at the sight
& ye bowd yer head so & blusht to expose em
Panting new charms I before never saw
Daisey white hills swelling high on yer bosom
Ye might taen & beaten me down wi a straw

& had ye wi shepherd or ploughmen bin suited
& bluntly denyd me the hopes of a wife
As sure as Im living my loves so deep rooted
Yed bin the sad causings of ending my life
Ye neednt go smile peg I tell the plain truth ont
As safe as our love i' the mornings begun
Had ye but denyd broken hearted forsooth ont
Yed seen me stone dead by the set of the sun

BOYISH DAYS

Ye friends & joys of youth how fled
Sin boyish day was oer
I manhoods race all widely spread
To meet as boys no more
Alas it rose a gloomy day
That christnd us men
That snatchd us prisners from our play
To never play agen

Farwell ye scenes of banishd youth
Milkwarm in memorys eye
That day disclosd a woeful truth
That wisperd ye were bye

112

& vain the dreams of fancys sleep
Woud one pure joy retain
Sad manhoods woes have rund so deep
They'll nought wash out the stain

SONG

[Yon valleys bend & wood between]

Yon valleys bend & wood between
A rose is in its blow
As sweet a flower as ere was seen
Or ere was known to grow
Of tender bloom it seemd to be
& delicate its hue
No other rose upon the tree
Is half so fair to view

& may the hand wi right good will
That offers it its care
The muses fancy there fulfill
& find it sweet as fair
But if a hand to mischief prone
Unfeeling views the bower
May brambles pierce him to the bone
Ere he can wrong the flower

SONG

[& come to my bosom my only thought pleasure]

& come to my bosom my only thought pleasure
& prove that thou lovst to give pleasure to me

113

& come to my bosom my lone valud treasure
As all that can please me is resting wi thee

Come to my bosom that waits thy complying
Like the parchd earth in the summer the rain
Love in thy absence droops languid & dying
& only revives when it meets thee again

When I think on thee life half its load looses
When I enjoy what thy presence can bring
Sorrow half charmd into sorrow reposes
& pain melts wi kindness to lay by his sting

Come then to me wi thy fondness revealed
Softly to mine let thy blushing cheek bend
One wish Ill breathe wi my lips to thine sealed
Our trance may in heaven awake at its end

SONG

[Woman tho ye turn away]

Woman tho ye turn away
Coud ye loves confusion see
Coud my sighs their pains betray
Woman ye woud pity me
Tho ye may my suit despise
If a womans soul is thine
Coud ye read heart rending sighs
Yed be mixing one wi mine

114

Fancy may be blind to worth
Where despised love does mourn
But if thourt of womans birth
Some regret thou must return
& fare thee well thou bosom cold
Or cold at least to notice me
But if thourt made in womans mould
Thoult drop a tear for sake o me

SONG

[One gloomy eve I roamd about]

One gloomy eve I roamd about
Neath oxeys hazel bowers
While timid hares were daring out
To crop the dewy flowers
& soothing was the scene to me
Right placid was my soul
My breast was calm as summers sea
When waves forget to roll

But short was evens placid smile
My startld soul to charm
When nelly lightly skipt the stile
Wi milk pail on her arm
One carless look on me she flung
As bright as parting day
& like a hawk from covert sprung
It pouncd my peace away

115

SONG

[I look on the past & I dread dark tomorrow]

I look on the past & I dread dark tomorrow
My life grows a burthen Id wish to lay down
Time meets me wi nought but new tidings of sorrow
& care tans the blown of my summer leaf brown
If life owns a joy it near fell to my portion
If pleasures a substance the shadow was mine
A skiff on the waves of a wild tossing ocean
Where no rocks befriend me such fate to resign

Springs done wi me & my summer is waining
Times out of call wi my best younger day
Hopes only prop of support now remaining
Is autumn attird in her mourning array
Anxious I look for the winters encroaching
& feel the leaves pat my bald head from the tree
It gives consolation of slumbers approaching
When death does the same to my sorrows & me

116

A LARE AT NOON

The awthorn gently stopt the sun beneath
The ash above their quivering shadows spread
& downy bents that to the air did wreath
Bowd neath my pressure in a easy bed
The water wirled round each stunted nook
& sweet the splashings on the ear did swim
Of flye bit cattle gulshing in the brook
Nibbling the grasses on the fountains brim
The little minnows drove from their retreat
Still sought the shelving bank to shun the heat
I feign had slept but flies woud buzz around
I feign had looked calmly on the scene
But the sweet snug retreat my search had found
Wakend the muse to sing the willows screne

117

ON LEAVING LONDON

O rural life thy simply pleasing charms
How far superior to the citys noise
Gladly I view once more thy cots thy farms
& woud not change em for a world of joys
Experience all lifes former hopes destroys
& every sigh for unseen joys are hush
Ive seen prides haughty ways & found em vain
Ive seen the world found nought that I coud wish
& flye contented to thy peace again
The wild bower silence nestling on the plain
Ah give me still my doom to till the soil
Give me the calmness which I once possest
My sundays comforts from my weekly toil
Ill eat my crust & fancy I am blest

118

PILSGATE HILL

On this hill top Ill linger for awhile
& count the trifles leisure loves to see
Tis always sweet some minutes to beguile
To see what pictures in the scene may be
That may delight—& picturesque to me
Is yonder sweeping bridge at distance seen
& yon rude brook that leads tot crooking free
At natures easy will thro meadows green
By old grey willows that to fancy lean
Oer their grey roots forever in decay
Yon hall how fine that glorious long has been
Gilt wi the spangles of declining day
That darkens as the suns beams leave the scene
Who like my sonnet slinks abrupt away

119

THE GIPSEYS CAMP

How oft on Sundays when Id time to tramp
My rambles led me to a gipseys camp
Where the real effegies of midnight hags
Wi tawney smoaked flesh & tatterd rags
Uncooth brimd hat & weather beaten cloak
Neath the wild shelter of a notty oak
Along the greensward uniformly pricks
Her pliant bending hazels arching sticks
While round topt bush or briar entangld hedge
Where neath broad flag le[a]ves spring or ramping sedge
Keep off the bothering bustle of the wind
& give the best retreat they hope to find
How oft Ive bent me oer their fire & smoak
To hear their gibberish tale so quaintly spoke
While the old sybil forcd her boding clack
Twin imps the mean while bawling at her back
Oft on my hand her magic coins bin struck
& hoping chink she talkd of morts of luck

120

& still as boyish hopes did erst agree
Mingld wi fears to drop the fortunes fee
I never faild to gain the honours sought
& Lord & Squire was purchasd wi a groat
But as mans unbelieving taste came round
She furious stampt her shooless foot aground
Wipd by her sut black hair wi clenching fist
While thro her yellow teeth the spittle hist
Swearing by all her lacky powers of fate
That like as foot boys on her actions wait
That fortunes scale shoud to my sorrow turn
& I one day the rash neglect shoud mourn
That good to bad shoud change & I shoud be
Lost to this world & all eternity
That poor as Job I shoud remain unblest
Alas for fourpence how my dye is cast
Of neer a hurded farding be possest
& when alls done be shovd to hell at last

WRITTEN IN APRIL AT WALK LODGE

Long sweeping bends of croppings brightning green
That wind along the vallies sheltering crown
Large swelling hills that nauntle up the scene
Which winters pencil tips wi bleachy brown

121

Here steeple points & there a misty town
As stretching thro each opening to be seen
& woods enlivning from their gloomy hue
To sprout in freshness—while the heath hills lean
In triumph on the eye their blooming goss
Wild natures brightest ornaments as now
Speckt oer wi sheep & beast & nibbling horse
That still roamd free from the long lazy plough
& the horison sweeping faintly blue
That prickt its bordering circle round the view

THE AUTHORS EPITAPH

Where the clear stream by the wild bank is wirling
& the green awthorn bush shades the spring head
Where the glass wave oer the smooth stone is curling
Feeding the moss bank that warms the hares bed
There let me lie & the daisey notts cover me
While the grass tuft shields the nest of the lark
& the dark oak its brown branches hangs over me
Let this inscription be carvd on its bark

122

Here lyeth one that did often importune
Fate as a vagrant craves bread to relieve him
& such was the kindness of fate & of fortune
They scarce had a heart a bare sixpence to give him
He toild to the height of his strength till it lasted
Tho small was the portion of strength god had given
& still he hopd comforts till lifes hope was blasted
& then his deaths sigh gaspd to meet it in heaven

TO A LADY UNKNOWN

Lady yell excuse a clown
In paying where he owes not
The favours which your friends have shown
Makes friends of them he knows not

& if ye be but kind & free
As is your sister lady
Theres nothing else I want to see
Yeve my esteem already

123

THE VILLAGE MINSTREL

1

While learned genius rush to bold extreemes
& sun beams snatch to light the muses fires
A humble rustic hums his lowly dreams
Far in the swail where poverty retires
& sings what nature & what truth inspires
The charms that rise from rural scenery
Which he in pastures & in woods admires
The sports the feelings of his infancy
& such like artless things how mean so ere they be

2

Tho far from what the learneds toils requite
He unambitious looks at no renown

124

But little hopes break his oblivions night
To cheer the bosom of a luckless clown
Where black neglect spreads one continual frown
& threats her constant winter cold & chill
Where toil & slavery bears each fancy down
That feign would soar & sing ‘albeit ill’
& forces him submit to fates controuling will

3

Still like the broad leafd dock its horned burrs
That to the passing labourers garments cling
On retrospections sight the past adhers
His native scenes & childhoods early spring
So sweet to view so temptingly to sing
Fancy beholds & quickens at the sight
& thro the thorns wants in her passage fling
Oer the bent head she limps her lowly flight
Groups thro obscuritys dark vale & struggles for the light

4

Young lubin was a peasant from his birth
His sire a hind born to the frail & plough
To thump the corn out & to till the earth
The coarsest chance which natures laws alow
To earn his living by a sweating brow
Thus lubins early days did rugged roll
& mixt in timley toil—but een as now
Ambitions prospects fird his little soul
& fancy soard & sung bove povertys controul

125

5

Small joy to him was childhoods tempting tricks
Which schoolboys look for in their vacant hours
Wi other boys he little card to mix
Joy left him lonly in his awthorn bowers
As haply binding up his notts of flowers
Or list'ning unseen birds to hear em sing
Or gazing down ward where the runnel pours
Thro the mossd brig in many a wirling ring
How woud he muse oer all on pleasures fairy wing

6

The ‘I spye’ haloo & the marble ring
& many a game that infancy employs
The spinning top wird from the twitching string
The boastfull jump of strong exulting boys
Their sports their pastimes all their pleasing toys
We leave unsung—tho much such rural play
Woud suit the theme—yet theyre no lubins joys
Truth breaths the song in lubins steps to stray
Thro woods & fields & plains his solitary way

7

Nature lookd on him wi a witching eye
Her pleasing scenes was his delightful book
Where he while other louts gaumd heedless bye
Wi wild enthusi[a]sm us'd to look

126

The king cup vale the gravel paved brook
Was paradise wi him to muse among
& haply sheltering in some lonley nook
Woud sit him down to see it purl along
& fird wi what he saw hum oer full many a song

8

As how the vales & shades did please his sight
As how the wind breathd music thro each bough
As how in rural charms he did delight
To mark the shepherds folds & swains at plough
& pasture speckt wi sheep & horse & cow
& many a beauty that does intervene
The steeple peeping oer the woods dark brow
While many a young hope popt its smile between
& wishd mans days to spend in some such peaceful scene

9

Each opening season & each opening scene
On his wild view still teemd wi fresh delight
Een winters storms to him have Welcome been
That brought him comfort in its long dark night
As joyful listning while the fire burnt bright
Some neighbouring laboure[r]s superstitious tale
How ‘Jenny burnt a-se’ wi her wisp alight
To drown a nighted traveller once did fail
By knowing well the brook that wimperd down the vale

127

10

& haunted tales which village legends fill
As true as gospel revealations told
Of narrow lane & wood & lonly hill
& ruins where a castle stood of old
How many a nighted man did there behold
Ghosts wi out heads & dismal shrieks did hear
Of secret murder done & hidden gold
Wanting to wisper in the peasants ear
& oft he looses much by harbouring foolish fear

11

For gohsts neer spake unless theyre spoken too
So 'stitious faith in her ghost creeds pretends
& had the hind a heart to thus pursue
He might come in for ‘money wi out end’
Or bring to light some murder still unkend
That justice might revenge & peacful lay
The wandering sprite whose hauntings then will end
Thus lubin swallowd all they had to say
While each long winters night pass'd unpercievd away

12

& tales of fairy land he lovd to hear
Those mites of human form like skimming bees
That flye & flirt about but every where
The fly like tribes of nights un'scerning breeze
That thro a lock hole even creep wi ease
The freaks & stories of this elfin crew
Ah lubin gloried in such things as these
How they rewarded industry he knew
& how the restless slut was pinched black & blue

128

13

How ancient dames a faries anger feard
From gossips stories lubin often heard
How they but every night the hearthstone cleard
& gen their visits all things neat prepard
As fays nought more then cleanliness regard
When in the morn they never faild to share
Or gold or silver as their meet reward
Dropt in the water superstitions care
To make the charm succeed had cautious placed there

14

& thousands such the village keeps alive
Beings that people superstitious earth
That ere in rural manners will survive
So long as wild rusticity has birth
To spread their wonders round the cottage hearth
On lubins mind oft deeply they imprest
Oft fear forbid to share his neighbours mirth
& long each tale by fancy newly drest
Brought faireys in his dreams & broke his infant rest

15

He had his dreads & fears & scarce coud pass
A church yards dreary mounds at silent night
But footsteps trampld thro the rustling grass
& ghosts hind grave stones 'peard in sheets of white

129

Dread monsters fancy moulded on his sight
Soft woud he step lest they his tread shoud hear
& crept & crept till past his wild afright
Then on winds wings woud rally as it where
So swift the wild retreat of childhoods fancyd fear

16

& when fear left him on his corner seat
Much woud he chatter oer each dreadful tale
Tell how he heard the sound of 'proaching feet
& warriors gingling in their coats of mail
& lumping nocks as one woud lump a pail
Of spirits cunjourd in the charnel floor
& many a mournful shriek & hapless wail
Where maids self murderd their false loves deplore
—& from that time woud vow to tramp a nights no more

17

O who can speak his joys when springs young morn
From wood & pasture opend on his view
When tender green buds blush upon the thorn
& the first primrose dips its leaves in dew
Each varied charm how joyd woud he pursue
Oer yellow furze clad heath & val[e] & lawn
Tempted to trace their beautys thro the day
Grey girdl'd eve & rosey wreathed morn
Have both beheld him on his lonley way
Far far remote from boys & their unpleasing play

130

18

Sequesterd nature was his hearts delight
Him woud she lead thro wood & lonly plain
Searching the pooty from the rushey dyke
& while the thrush sung her long silencd strain
He thought it sweet & mockt it oer again
& while he pluckt the primrose in its pride
He ponderd oer its bloom tween joy & pain
& a rude sonnet in its praise he tryd
Where natures simple way the aid of art supplyd

19

The fresh'n'd lanscapes round his routs unfurld
The fine tingd clouds above the woods below
Each met his eye a new revealing world
Delighting more as more he learnd to know
Each journey sweeter musing too & fro
Surrounded thus a paradise as sweet
Enthusiasm made his soul to glow
His heart wi wild sensations usd to beat
As nature seemly sung his mutterings usd repeat

20

Upon a molehill oft he dropt him down
To take a prospect of the circling scene
Marking how much the cottage roofs thatch brown
Did add its beauty to the budding green

131

Of sheltering trees it humbly pe[e]pt between
The waggon rumbling oer the stoney ground
The windmills sweeping sails at distance seen
& every scene that crowds the circling round
Where the skye stooping seems to kiss the meeting ground

21

& dear to him the rural sports of may
When each cot threshold mounts its hailing bough
& ruddy milk maids weave their garlands gay
Upon the green to crown the earliest cow
When mirth & pleasure wears its joyful brow
& joins the tumult wi unbounded glee
The humble tenants of the pale & plough
He lovd ‘old sports’ by them revivd to see
But never card to join in their rude revellry

22

Oer brook banks stretching on the pasture ground
He gazd far distant from the jocund crew
Twas but their feats that claimd a slight regard
Twas his his pastimes lonly to pursue
Wild blossoms creeping in the grass to view
Scarce peeping up the tiney bent as high
Betingd wi glossy yellow red or blue
Unnamd unoticd but by lubins eye
That like low genius sprang to bloom their day & dye

132

23

O who can tell the sweets of maydays morn
To waken rapture in a feeling mind
When the gilt east unveils its dappld dawn
& the gay wood lark has its nest resignd
As slow the sun creeps up the hill behind
Morn reddning round & day lights spotless hue
As seemly sweet wi rose & lily lind
While all the prospect round beams fair to view
As the sweet opening flower wi its unsullied dew

24

Ah often brushing thro the dripping grass
Has he been seen to catch this early charm
Listning the ‘love song’ of the healthy lass
Passing wi milk pail on her well turnd arm
Or meeting objects from the rousing farm
The gingling plough teams droving down the steep
Waggon & cart—& shepherd dogs alarm
Raising the bleatings of unfolding sheep
As oer the mountain top the red sun gin to peep

25

Nor coud the days decline escape his gaze
He lovd the closing as the rising day
& oft woud stand to catch her setting rays
Whose last beams stole not unpercievd away

133

When hesitating like a stag at bay
The bright unwearied sun seemd loath to drop
Till chaos night hounds hurried him away
& drove him headlong from the mountain top
& shut the lovly scene & bid all nature stop

26

With contemplations stores his mind to fill
O doubly happy woud he roam as then
As the blue eve crept deeper round the hill
While the coy rabbit venturd from his den
& weary labour sought its rest agen
Lone wanderings led him haply by the stream
Where unpercievd he joyd his hours at will
Musing the cricket twittering oer its dream
Or watching oer the brook the moon lights da[n]cing beam

27

& here the rural muse might aptly say
As sober even sweetly siles along
As how she chasd black ignorance away
& warmd his artless soul wi' feelings strong
To teach his reed to warble forth a song
As how it echod on the even gale
All by the brook the pasture flowers among
But ah such trifles are of no avail
Theres few to notice him or hear his simple tale

134

Lubins Song

He sung of the seasons he sung of the day
As soon as the morning is known
To wipe the black curtains of night time away
& show the red fringe of her own
O sweet was the scene neath its dew drop[p]ing dye
O sweet was each object that courted the eye
& he sung how the cock labours slumbers unseald
& hastnd her tenants to toil in the field

Enrapturd as he sung
He markt the mellow swell
How sweet the early notice rung
From mornings tolling bell
& on his ears how soft & sweet
The cows did low & sheep did bleat
& on the waking gales
How maids sung oer their pales
& markt too in his ryhmes
How musical betimes
From mowers wetting sycthe in meadow ground
Came murmring oer the ear a sharp shill tinkling sound
& the long day how labour wore away
How swains & maidens mixt to make the hay
The sun burnt beauty wi her ruddy face
How coy she seemd to shun each rude embrace
But when unseen behind a cock of hay
Or smutty even round their armours fell
Was known to stay behind wi chaps to play
To kiss & toy & likd it monstrous well
& somthing more then what his songs dare say

135

& the departing day he sat & sung
How the sun reddnd ere it left the eye
How it enlargd & like a huge ball hung
Seemly on nothing in the dripping skye
Till all at once it hurried from the sight
Behind the dim seen wood or misty mountains height
Nor sunk unseen its last expiring beam
That faintly shone & dyd upon the stream
He markt too on his seat how sweet did creep
The wimpering waters oer each pebly swell
Soft as a nurse song oer the infants sleep
He lovd its murmurs well

29

& lubin had his lamentable tale
His songs oft bitterd wi the ways of woe
For lubins self was nursd in sorrows vale
& early learnd the ills of life to know
From pain & toil & poverty that flow
So copiously in lifes low humble sphere
Oft woud his feelings meet the poor mans woe
Oft woud he sigh the beggars wants to hear
& pity all she coud woud drop a tender tear

Lubins sigh For the pauper

[30]

One winters morn bent oer his prop[p]ing stick
A poor man met me on the rhymey lea
Weak was he worn wi years & faint & sick
The beggar seemd—alas no beggar he

136

When he gun tell his mournfull history
Misfortunes hand had brought its victim low
Thrice happy thou who no misfortunes see
His looks was hagged but they plain did show
It once were his hard fate some kinder days to know

[31]

O weak & bad I am the old man sed
His wooly locks the while wi ryhme enrolld
If I must perish for the wants of bread
I cannot work it is so bitter cold
I stood the winter once but now am old
Ah child he said thou mayst enquire the cause
My griefs are many but are easy told
Wert thou my age thou neednt stand to pause
& blest woud be thy lot to know no parish laws

[32]

Far better days I might to memry fetch
When I coud boast of strength to mow & reap
But all my joy was in misfortunes reach
Im crippld now & little use to weep
God knows affliction tho it pricks me deep
When thoughts look back—but what is past is past
Twas mine of woe instead of joy to reap
& now thou seest mans wreck reducd at last
On whom age woe & want combind pour down a double blast

[33]

My storys short & easily explaind
When I was young like thee the world was sweet
Health flusht the cheek which grief had never staind
& pleasure strewd her flowers beneath my feet

137

& joys when manhood came needs no repeat
I then was strong ah strength—loves worth endears
In every master then a friend to meet
But who can harken wi out shedding tears
To poor mans wants & woes in ages helpless years

[34]

When labour scarce its barley crust supplies
Worn to its latest feeblest thread like mine
When forcfull want on brutish aid relys
(O loath were I my labour to resign)
When far worse pains I meet then pain to pine
When tottering limbs by age & toil brought down
No pity meets—O may nor thee nor thine
Know the sad anguish of a parish frown
To be like me lost wretch beholden to a town

35

As most of natures children prove to be
His little soul was easy made to smart
His tear was quickly born to sympathy
& soon was rousd the feelings of his heart
In others woes & wants to bear a part
Yon parish huts where want is shuvd to dye
He never viewd em but his tear woud start
He past not by the doors wi out a sigh
& felt but every woe of workhouse misery

36

O poverty thy frowns was early dealt
On him who mournd thee not by fancy led
To whine & wail oer woes he never felt
Staining his ryhmes wi tears he never shed

138

& heaving sighs a mock song only bred
Alas he knew too much of every pain
That showrd full thick on his unshelterd head
& as his tears & sighs did erst complain
His numbers took it up & wept it oer again

37

Full well might he [h]is early days recall
When he a thresher wi his seive has been
When he a ploughboy in the fields did maul
& drudgd wi toil thro a'most every scene
How pincht wi winters frownings he has been
& tell of all that modesty consceals
Of all his friends & he has felt & seen
But usless naming what distress reveals
As every child of want feels all that lubin feels

38

It might be curious too to hint the lad
How in his earliest days he did apear
Mean was the dress in which the boy was clad
His friends so poor & clo'hs excessive dear
They oft were foild to rig him once a year
& huswifes care in many a patch was seen
Much industry gen want did presevere
His friends tryd all to keep him neat & clean
Tho care has often faild & shatterd oft hes been

139

39

Yet oft fair prospects cheerd his parents dreams
Who had on lubin founded many a joy
But pinching want soon baffld all their schemes
& draggd him from the school a hopless boy
To shrink unheeded under hard employ
When struggling efforts warmd him up the while
To keep the little toil coud not destroy
& oft wi books spare hours he woud beguile
& blunderd oft wi joy round crusoes lonly isle

40

Folks much may wonder how the thing may be
That lubins taste shoud seek refined joys
& court the 'chanting smiles of poesy
Bred in a village full of strife & noise
Old sensless gossips & blackguarding boys
Ploughmen & threshers whose discourses led
To nothing more then labours rude employs
'Bout work being slack & rise & fall of bread
& who were like to dye ere while & who were like to wed

140

41

Houswives discoursing bout their hens & cocks
Spin[n]ing long stories wearing half the day
Sad deeds bewailing of the prowling fox
How in the roost the thief had knawd his way
& made their market profits all a prey
& other losses too the dames recite
Of chick & duck & gosling gone astray
All falling prizes to the swopping kite
& so the story runs its round both morning noon & night

42

Nor sabath days no better thoughts instill
The true going churchman hears the signal ring
& takes his book his homage to fulfill
& joins the clerk his amen task to sing
& rarley home forgets the text to bring
& soon as service ends he gins agen
Bout signs in weather late or forward spring
Of prospects good or bad in growing grain
& if the parsons speech be long they wait its end wi pain

141

43

A more uncoothly lout was hardly seen
Beneath the shroud of ignorance then he
The sport of all the village has he been
Who wi his simple looks oft jested free
& gossips gabbling oer their cake & tea
Time a'ter time did prophesies repeat
How half a ninney he was like to be
To go so soodling up & down the street
& shun the playing boys when ere they chancd to meet

44

When summer reignd how eager has he sped
Where silence reignd & the old crowned tree
Bended its sheltering ivy oer his head
& summer breezes breathing placidly
Encroachd upon the stock doves privacy
Parting the leaves that screend her russet breast
‘Peace’ woud he wisper ‘dread no thief in me’
& never rose to rob her carless nest
Compassions softness reignd & warmd his gentle breast

45

& he woud trace the stagnant pond or lake
Where flags sprung up or water lillies smild
& wipe the boughs aside of bush & brake
& creep the woods wi sweetest scenes beguild

142

Tracking some channel on its journey wild
Where dripping bluebells on the bank did weep
O what a lovley scene to natures child
Through roots & oer dead leaves to see it creep
Watching on some mossd stump in contemplation deep

46

Twas pleasing too when meadows browning swath
Neath sultry sunbeams witherd on the lea
To mark the ploughboys at their sunday bath
When leisure left em at their wading free
In some clear pit hemd round wi willow tree
& bush & brake to screen the dabblers grew
Tho bashful milkmaids coudnt help but see
& doubtless blushing by the naked crew
Their bosoms might be warmd to wish a nearer view

47

& he woud mark in Julys rosey prime
Crossing the meadows how a namless flye
O[f] scarlet plumage puntual to its time
Percht on a flower woud always meet his eye
& plain drest butter flye of russet dye
As if a wakend by the scythes shill sound
Soon as the bent wi ripness gan to dye
Was constant with him in each meadow ground
Flirting the withering swath & unmown blossom round

143

48

No inscet scapt him from the gaudy plumes
Of dazzling butterflyes so fine to view
To the small midgen that at evening comes
Like dust spots dancing oer the waters blue
Or where the spreading oak above head grew
Tormenting maidens neath their kicking cow
Who often murmurs at the elfin crew
& spoils their gambols wi a switching bough

49

& he has markt the curious stained rings
Tho seemly nothing in anothers eye
& bending oer em thought em wonderous things
Where nurses night fays circling dances hie
& set the cock to watch the mornings eye
Light soon betrays em where their routs has been
Their printing foot marks leave a magic dye
The grass grows gloomy in a darker green
& look for years to come & still the place is seen

50

& as the clining day his stalking shade
A jiant monster stretcht in fancys view
What bustle to his cottage has he made
Ere sliving night around his journey threw

144

Her circling curtains of a grizly hue
& on the rings the fairy routs displayd
From gossips wisdom much he gleand & knew
Who told him haunts for ghosts as well as fays
& what quere things were seen in grannys younger days

51

His song might tremble wi the haunted pond
& tell of terrors which his heart has found
How he to 'scape shoold many a pace beyond
Each dreaded dangerous spot of Haunted ground
Here as he passt where amys woes were drownd
If late at night his fears woud turn him chill
If nought was seen he heard a squish squash sound
As when ones shoes drencht in water will
& wet & dripping he oft see her climb the hill

52

& round his fields lay many a spot to dread
Twoud note a history down to note em all
Oft monsters have been seen wi out a head
& market men oft got a dangerous fall
When startld horses saw the sweeping pall
On the cross roads where love lorn luce was lain
At other spots like offsprings of old ‘ball’
As such full oft by 'staken ploughmen taen
A shagged foal will fright the early rising swain

145

& lubins fields had spots for wizard fame
Full oft hes heard the ploughing chaps declare
How in the shape of ‘Straws theve playd their game’
Till in white larder sweated horse or man
How beesom sticks went hurtling thro the air
Trays too coud not stan' quiet on the moore
& sheep cribs oft have been there coaches there
Still nurses have a spell they cant get oer
& oft the horse shoes seen naild on the village door

53

In autumn time how oft hes stood to mark
What tumults tween the hogs & geese arose
Down the corn litterd street & the rude bark
Of jealous watch dog on his masters clo'hs
Een rousd by quawkings of the swopping crows
& every tinkle in that busy toil
In sultry field & dusty lane that flows
He gleand his corn & lovd to list the while
For lubins self was mixt to share of autumns spoil

54

& when old women overpowrd by heat
Tuckt up their tails & sickend at the toil
Seeking beneath the thorn the mole hill seat
To tell their tales & catch their breath awhile
Their gabbling talk did lubins cares beguile
& some woud tell their tales & some woud sing
& many a dame to make the children smile
Woud tell of many a funny laughing thing
While merrily the snuff box charm went pinching round the ring

146

55

Here lubin listn'd wi a struck supprise
When hickerthrifts great strength has met his ear
How he killd jiants as they were but flies
& lifted trees as one woud lift a spear
& not much bigger then his fellows where
He knew no troubles waggoners have known
Of getting stalld & such dissasters drear
Up hed chuck sacks as one woud hurl a stone
& draw whole loads of grain unaided & alone

56

& goodys sympathy woud fetch the tear
From each young listner seated by her side
When cruel barbary allen they did hear
The haughty stubbornness of female pride
To that fond youth who broke his heart & dyd
& jack the jiant killers tales shed say
Which still the same enchanting power supplyd
The stagnant tear amazment wipd away
& jacks exploits were felt for many an after day

57

These were such tales as lubin did delight
But shoud the muse narate in goodys strain
& tell of all she told from morn till night
Fays ghosts & jiants woud her songs detain

147

& be at days return resumd again
Wi cinderella she has charmd awhile
Then Thumbs dissasters gev a moments pain
Thus true thought legends woud each soul beguile
As superstition willd to raise the tear or smile

58

& as the load joggd hom ward down the lane
When welcome night shut out the toiling day
His followings markt the simple hearted swain
Joying to listen on his homward way
As rests warm rapture rousd the rustics lay
The thread bare ballad from each quavering tongue
As ‘peggy bond’ or the ‘sweet month of may’
As how he joyd to hear each ‘good old song’
That on nights pausing ear did echo loud & strong

59

The muse might sing too for he well did know
The freaks & plays that harvest home doth end
How the last load is crownd wi boughs & how
Wi floating ribbons diznd at their end
The swains & maids wi fork & rake attend
& how the children on the load delight
Wi shouts of harvest home their throats to rend
& how the dames peep out to mark the sight
& all the feats that crown the harvest supper night

148

60

He knew all well a young familiar there
& often lookd on all for he him sen
Mixt wi the sun tand group the feast to share
As years rolld round him wi the change agen
& brought the masters equals wi their men
Who pusht the beer about & smoakd & drank
Wi freedoms plenty never shown till then
Nor labourers dard but now so free & frank
To laugh & joke & play so many an harmless prank

61

Much has he laughd each rude rude act to see
The long neckt sheet clad crane to poke about
Spoiling each smokers pipe & cunningly
Tho blindfold seen to pick each bald head out
& put each bashful maiden to the rout
The ‘firey parrot’ too a laughing scene
Where two maids on a sheet invite the lout
Thrown oer a watertub to sit between
& as he drops they rise & let him swearing in

62

The ‘dusty miller’ playing many a rig
& the ‘scotch pedlars’ wi their jokes & fun
The ‘booted hogs’ drove over ‘lunnon brig’
Boys who had mischief in the harvest done
As loads oerturnd & foul on posts had run
& brandy burning ghosts most deadly blue
That each old woman did wi terror shun
These wi the rest did lubin yearly view
& joind his mirth & fears wi the low vulgar crew

149

63

To close the ranting night the masters health
Went round in bumping horns to every swain
Who wisht him best of crops to 'crease his wealth
&'s merry sport when harvest came again
& all i' chorus rallyd out amain
& soons the song (a tugging pull) begun
Each ere its end the brimming horn must drain
Or have it filld again—there lay the fun
Till hodge went drunk to bed & morts of things wer done

64

O dear to lubin autumns changing cloud
Where shade & sunshine every minute sees
& each rude risen tempest beetling loud
Ownd every murmur his wild ear to please
Sueing its vengance thro the yellow trees
Pattering the acorns from their cups adown
Fanning the sear leaf far upon the leas
& picturesque to him each scrambling clown
Tearing the woods among to search the nut bunch brown

65

How woud he wander round the woods the plains
When every flower from natures wreath had fled
Tracing the shower bedimpld sandy lanes
& winding fountains to their infant bed
Wi many a flag & rushy bunch bespread
Marking each curdle boil & boil away
& bubbles guggling born that swelld & fled
Like changing scenes in lifes empherion day
Thus lubin pausd & cheerd his solitary way

150

66

A Solitair thro autumns wan decay
He heard the tuteling robin sound her knell
'Serv'd the coy sun more shoy to slink away
& lingering oak shade how it brownd & fell
& many a way of nature he coud tell
That still are secrets to un'scerning eyes
As how the bee most carful closd her cell
How mice wi far fetchd ear their hole supplies
& moles root deeper down from winters frowning skies

67

& he coud tell as how the squirrel far'd
Who often stood its busy toils to see
How he gen winters wants were well prepard
Wi many a store in hollow root or tree
As if bin told how winters wants woud be
Its nuts & acorns he woud often find
& hips & hawes too heaped plentiously
In snug warm corner that broke off the wind
Wi leafy nest made nigh that warm green mosses lind

68

Twas thus his fond enquirey usd to trace
Thro natures secrets wi unwear[i]ed eye
& watch the shifting seasons changing grace
Springs first wild flower & summers painted sky

151

The inscet creeping & the birds that flye
The autumns dying breeze the winter wind
That bellowd round his hut most mournfully
& as his years increasd his taste refind
& fancy wi new charms enlightnd up his mind

69

Beauty gan look too witching on his eye
The sweetest image seen in natures glass
A swelling bosom neath its lilly dye
Wi out admiring lubin coudnt pass
& down cast eye & blush of shanny lass
Had every power his heart to hold in thrall
—O beautious woman still thy charms surpass
In spite of all thy failings & thy fall
Thou art the comfort still that charms this earthly ball

70

Sure twas an over sight in natures plan
Such lovliness that claims the tenderest care
Left thus defencless wi ungratfull man
Such hardnd brutes as but too many are
O pleasing flowers as frail as ye are fair
Sure some that lives have souls to feel & sigh
When shrinking neath the storms ye cannot bear
Your beautious buds bow down to fade & dye
While not one pitying tear melts your seducers eye

71

Full oft to see these witcheries divine
Hed mix in circles where their charms did grace
& merry routs he now began to join
& tho his heart denyd to own its case

152

It oft were smitten wi a beauty face
& throbbd wi thrilling agravating pain
& many a long long day has taken place
Ere he forgot & met his peace again
While oft in beautys praise the while he hummd full many a strain

72

He knew the manners too of merry rout
Statute & feast his village yearly knew
& glorious revels too wi out a doubt
Such pastimes were to hob & nat & sue
Milkmaids & clowns that statute joys pursue
& rattle of[f] like hogs to lunon mart
Weary of old they seek for places new
Where men hail maidens wi a frothing quart
& hodge wi sweet heart fixt forgets his plough & cart

73

Where cakes & nuts & ginger bread & all
Tempt clowns to buy & far more tempting still
Where shining ribbons dizen out the stall
& wenches drag poor sheepish bob or bill
Some long long dallied promise to fulfill
New wreath or bow for sunday cap to buy
‘If yah set any store by one yah will’
Each strings his purse & makes me no reply
But thinks returns at night will suit for clowns are smuttly sly

153

74

& there the ballad singers rave & rant
& hodge whose pockets wornt stand treats more high
Hears which his simpering lass may please to want
& brushing thro' the crowd most manfully
Outs wi his pence the pleasing song to buy
& crams it in her hand wi many a smile
The trifling present makes the maid comply
To promise him her company the while
& strutting by her side at night he hands her oer the stile

75

While the poor sailor wi his hat in hand
Hops thro the crowd that wonerfully stares
To hear him talk of things in foreign land
Bout thundering cannons & most bloody wars
& as he stops to show his seamy scars
Pity soon meets the ploughmans penny then
The sailor heartfelt thankfulness declares
‘God blesses’ all & stiles em gentlemen
& sobs his money up well pleasd & gins his tale agen

76

Heres ‘civil will’ too wi his ‘pins’ & ‘pegs’
& he makes glorious fun among the chaps
‘Boys miss my pegs’ he cries ‘& hit my legs
‘My timbers well can stand your gentle taps’

154

Tho sure enough he gets most ugly raps
For here the rustic thinks the sports abound
Whose aim at ‘civils’ legs his fellow caps
Meets most applause—still ‘poor will’ stans his ground
‘Boys throw your copper salve’ he cries & make another wound

77

But soldiers theyre the boys to make the rout
Wi boasting bottle brimd wi jin or rum
The high crownd cap wi ribbons hung about
The tuteling fife & hoarse rap tapping drum
Lud clowns are almost mad where ere they come
Theyre like so many kings mong country folk
Their beer they push like water round the room
Who will & welcome there may drink & smoke
Tho Chaps has often found they even sell a joke

78

The bumptious serjan strouts before his men
& ‘clear the road young wopstraws’ will he say
& look as big as if king george him sen
& wield his sword around to make away

155

Wi lace & ribbons diznd out so gay
So flashing smart—full oft as wells the swain
The tempted maid his finery does betray
Who leaves poor slighted hodge behind in pain
& many a chiding dame to sorrow & complain

79

& lubin heard the echo rabbld fight
When men & maids were hird & sports did close
As wenches lookt their sweethearts up at night
& found 'em drunk bedeckt wi soldiers clo'hs
As they woud pull & scold great tumults rose
The serjants honour totterd terribly
The womens threatnings hardly scapd wi blows
—Theyd box his cap about his ears if he
Gave not the contest up & set the prisoner free

80

Some homward bound were coupld maid & swain
& dick from dolly now for gifts did sue
Hed gave her ribbons & he deemd again
Some kind return as nothing but his due
& he told things that ploughmen little knew
Of bleeding hearts & pains—she seizd the spell
& tho at first she murmurd bout the dew
Spoiling the sunday gown—he talkd so well
She gave the contest up at last to what no words dare tell

156

81

The statute namd each servants day of fun
The village feast next warms the muses song
Tis lubins sphere a threshers lowly son
Tho little usd to mix such routs among
Such fitting subjects to the theme belong
As rural landscapes destitute of trees
Woud doubtlessly be fancied painted wrong
& lowly rural subjects such as these
Must have its simple ways & feats diserning eyes to pleas[e]

82

The lovly morn in Julys blushes rose
That brought the yearly feast & holliday
When villagers put on their bran new clo'ths
& milk maids drest like any ladies gay
Threw ‘cotton drabs’ & ‘worsted hoes’ away
& left their pails unscourd well pleasd I ween
To join the dance where gipsey fidlers play
Accompanyd wi thumping tambereen
From night till morning light upon the rushy green

83

Where the fond swain delighteth in the chance
To meet the sun tand lass he dearly loves
& as he leads her down the giddy dance
Wi many a token his fond passion proves
Squeezing her hands or catching at her gloves
& stealing kisses as chance prompts the while
Wi eye fixt on her as she gracful moves
To catch if such fond ways does her beguile
When happily her heart confesses in a smile

157

84

O rural love as spotless as the doves
No wealth gives fuel to a borrowd flame
To prompt the shepherd where to chuse his loves
& go a forger of that sacred name
Both hearts in unison here beat the same
Here nature makes the choice which love inspires
Far from the wedded lord & haughty dame
This boon of heavenly happiness retires
Not felon like law bound but wedded in desires

85

The woodman & the thresher now is found
Mixing & making merry wi his friends
Childern & kin from neighbouring towns around
Their humble banquet at the feast attends
For such to nought of costliness pretends
Yet somthing more then common they provide
& the good dame her small plumb pudding sends
To sons & daughters thats in service tyd
Wi many a cordial gift of good advice beside

86

Tis pleasing then to view the cotters cheer
To mark his gentle & his generous mind
How free he is to push about his beer
& wells he knows wi ceremony kind
Bids help 'em selves to such as they may find
Tells em theyre welcome as the flowers in may
& full of merimental cheer inclind
Drinks healths & sings when suppers cleard away
& hopes they all may meet on next years holiday

158

87

& then for sake o's boys & wenches dear
Gi[e]s leave a dancing in his hut shall be
While he sits smoaking in his elbow chair
As pleasd as punch his childern round to see
Wi each a sweet heart frisking merrily
‘God bless ye all’ quoth he & drinks his beer
‘My boys & wenches yere a pride to me
‘But lead an honest life—no matter where
‘& do as I have done & yell have nought to fear’

88

‘To bring ye up, from toil I never flincht
‘Or faild to do the thing thats just & right
‘Yer mother knows our selves weve often pincht
‘To fill yer bellies & to keep ye tight
‘May god look down & bless ye all this night
‘May wives & husbands here that is to be
‘In stead o' sorrows prove yer hearts delight
‘Ive brought ye up expect no more from me
‘So take yer trundle now & good luck may ye see

89

Thus talkd the father to his pipe & beer
For those whom hed admonish were the while
Too occupyd in dancing him to hear
Yet still wi talk & beer he does beguile

159

His short releasment from his cares & toil
Till Sir Johns spirit stops his merry glee
& lays him quiet down—his children smile
Brakes up the dance & pays the fiddlers fee
& then till morn the lass he loves each swain pulls on his knee

90

& the long rural string of merry games
That at such outings maketh much ado
All wore to lubins skill familiar names
& he coud tell each whole performance thro
As pland & practisd by the jovial crew
—Great sport to them was jumping in a sack
For beaver hat bedeckt wi ribbons blue
Soon one bumps down as tho hed broke his neck
& 'nother tries to rise in vain & monstrous sport they mak'

91

& monstrous fun it makes to hunt the pig
As soapt & larderd thro the rout he flies
Thus turnd a drift he plays em many a rig
A pig for catching o'ts a wondrous prize
& every lout to do his utmost tries
Some snap the ear & some the tunkey tails
But still his slippery hide all hold denies
While old men tumbld down sore hurt bewails
& boys bedaubd wi muck run home wi piteous tales

160

92

& badger baiting here & fighting cocks
But sports too barbarous these for lubins strains
& red facd wenches for the holland smocks
Oft puff & pant along the smooth green plains
Where hodge feels oft uncomfortable pains
To see his love lag hindmost i' the throng
& of unfairness on her side complains
& swears & fights the jawing chaps among
As in her part hed dye 'fore they his lass shoud wrong

93

& long eard racers famd for sport & fun
Oft 'pear this day to have their swiftness tryd
Where some wont start & ‘Dicks’ the race near won
Enarmourd of some ‘Jenny’ by his side
Forgets the winning post to court a bride
In vain [the] rout urge on the jocky clown
To lump his cudgel on his hardnd hide
Ass a'ter ass still hee-haws down the town
& in disgrace at last each jocky bumps adown

94

& then the noisey rout their sports to crown
Form round the ring superior strength to show
Where restlers join to tug each other down
& thrust & kick wi hardy vengfull blow
Till thro their worsted hoes the blood does flow
For ploughmen woudnt wish for higher fame
Then be the champion all the rest to throw
& thus to add such honours to his name
He kicks & tugs & bleeds to win the glorious game

161

95

& when the night draws on each mirthfull lout
The ale house seeks & sets it in a roar
& there while fidlers play they rant about
& call for brimming tankards froathing oer
For 'bacco smoke yed hardly see the door
No stint they make of 'bacco & of beer
While money lasts they shout about for more
Resolvd to keep it merry when its here
As toil comes every day & feasts but once a year

96

Wi village merriments digressd awhile
We'll now resume his native joys again
& aptly find him bending oer a stile
Or stretchd in sabbath musings on the plain
Looking around & humming oer a strain
Painting the foliage of the woodland trees
Listing a bird thats lost its nest complain
Noting the hummings of the passing bees
& all the lovly things his musings hears & sees

97

Where ling clad heaths & pastures now may spread
He oft has heard of castle & of hall
& oft curosity his steps hath led
To gaze on some old arch or fretting wall
Where ivy scrambles up to stop the fall
There woud he sit him down & look & sigh
& bye gone days back to his mind woud call
The bloody war[r]ing times of chivallry
When danes invading routs made unarmd britons flye

162

98

He lovd to view the mossy arched brigs
Bending oer wall or rail the pits or springs
Below to mark where willows dripping twigs
To summers silken zephers feeblest wings
Bent i' the flood & curvd its thousand rings
& where the sun beam twitterd on the walls
& nodding bulrush down its drowk head hings
& down the rock the shallow water falls
Wild fluttering thro the stones in feeble wimpering brawls

99

& oft wi shepherds leaning oer their hooks
Hed stand conjecturing on the ruins round
Tho little skilld in antiquated books
Their knowledge in such matters seemd profound
& they woud preach of what did once abound
Castles deep moated round old haunted hall
& somthing like to moats still swamps the ground
As neath old cromwells rage the towers did fall
& bush & ivy creeps the hill & ruin hides it all

100

& ancient songs hes hung enrapturd on
Which herdsmen on a hill has sat to sing
Bout feats of robin hood & little john
Whose might was feard by country & by king

163

Such strength had they to twich the thrumming string
Their darts oft suckt the life blood of the deer
& sherwood forest wi their horns did ring
Ah these where such that he did joy to hear
& these where such that warmd when antique scenes did 'pear

101

Thy moat o woodcroft & thy time bleachd towers
Whose hughe head over looks the level green
He oft has viewd em as he pluckt his flowers
King cup & daisey ah & joyd has been
To list the passing netherds tale between
An ancient story scores of years by gone
Perils thou met wi in thy early days
In cromwells time or doubtless rebel john
The times he were not leard to know but let the tale go on

Woodcroft Castle: The Netherds tale

1

The night in yon castle now lulls the clowns sleep
& returns him in peace to his plough
Tho the shepherd unskard sits in rest wi his sheep
& the maid sings her song neath her cow
There once was an hour a most terrible hour
When the shepherd & ploughmen has fled
When the centinel stood wi his gun at the door
& the maiden was scard from her bed

164

2

Tho now ducks & geese they do swim i' the moat
& the beast at their cribs left to feed
Tho the tower nows of no other use then a coat
For the pigeons to roost in & breed
There once was a day a most terrible day
When that moat it flowd bloody wi all
When the top of yon tower saw the midst of the fray
& the cannons made totter the wall

3

It might be when charles our unfortunate king
Was disdaind by each rebel out law
That one michael Hudson his soldiers did bring
To keep our low country in awe
Tho few trusty fellows there was in the land
To royalty he was a friend
& valiant as ever was sword put in hand
Or master on man might depend

4

This very old castle he came to comand
A staunch set of servants brought he
Ere theyd loose it by rebels theyd loose their right hand
Or their legs lopped off to their knee
They 'fended it stoutly & watchd at the gate
Where draw bridge there might be as then
& hudson I ween were up early & late
A watching the foe wi his men

165

5

Twas when dewy morn on the pasture did weep
From stamford the rebels did roam
Their tumults no doubt scamperd shepherds & sheep
& great rout they made as they come
They rallied thro helpstone ah helpstone I ween
Thou neer knew a rebel before
& great consternation no doubt thou wast in
As the marston chaps were on the moor

6

Ive heard gossips say when such news spread about
The maidens near fell into fits
& old women hearing the rebels were out
Was a'most scard out of their wits
The mizer tore slabs up & buried his coin
& granny she instantly fell
To hide what she thought the bold rogues woud purloin
Such as kettles & pots in the well

7

But surely if I had been then on the green
Employd (markd the herdsman) as now
Id took to my heels soon as rebels Id seen
& left em free choice of a cow

166

& doubtless the netherds might run—& the rout
Full easy came in for their prey
& as they flockt up to the castle no doubt
Thought its tenants as easy as they

8

But hudson soon let em to know they was wrong
As his brandishd sword threats did despise
He told em that conquest wa'n't made by a tongue
But swords cut the way to the prize
& instant the hot bloody battle begun
& hudson so heartnd his men
That the rebels repulsd stood on tiptoe to run
Tho numberd as thirty to ten

9

But vain are the swords & the deeds of the brave
When cowards wi numbers oerpower
As vain hopes the flye to scape fish on the wave
Or thistle down float in a shower
They forded the moat & thought conquest was bought
Ah then came the terrible hour
When the bold royal captives subdued as they thought
Pusht again from the top of the tower

10

Repulse so undaunted—the rebels dismayd
Offerd quarter for battle to end
& then was thy guardians o woodcroft betrayd
Ah who woud on cowards depend

167

The valiant comander was cowardly flung
From off the tower top by the foe
His hand they slashd off on the tower as he hung
& his body fell bleeding below

11

& one who had quakd coud he usd his right hand
As many at nelson has done
When he begd like a soldier to dye on dry land
Dashd him dead i the flood wi his gun
& this is the tale woud make any one weep
Bout the towers thou so often has seen
That neerll be forgot while a shepherd tends sheep
Or netherd keeps cows on the green

102

Thus did the swain the dismal tale relate
While lubins breast wi tenderest woes did bleed
Much did he sigh to hear the valiants fate
& marveld much that cruel wars shoud breed
So nigh his natal home the horrid deed
& soon the tale his wild research supplyd
Like artless maidens who romances read
Each ruind heap was castles now discryd
Were other hudsons bore comand & fought as brave & dyd

168

103

But who can tell the anguish of his mind
When reformations formidable foes
Wi civil wars on natures peace combind
& desolation struck her deadly blows
As curst improvment gan his fields inclose
O greens & fields & trees farwell farwell
His heart wrung pains his unavailing woes
No words can utter & no tongue can tell
When ploughs destroyd the green when groves of willows fell

104

There once was springs when daises silver studs
Like sheets of snow on every pasture spread
There once was summers when the crow flower buds
Like golden sunbeams brightest lustre shed
& trees grew once that shelterd lubins head
There once was brooks sweet wimpering down the vale
The brooks no more—king cup & daiseys fled
Their last falln tree the naked moors bewail
& scarce a bush is left around to tell the mournful tale

105

Yon flaggy tufts & many a rushy nott
Existing still in spite of spade & plough
As seemly fond & loath to leave the spot
Tells where was once the green—brown fallows now
Where lubin often turns a saddnd brow
Marks the stopt brook & mourns oppresions power
& thinks how once he waded in each slough
To crop the yellow ‘horse blobs’ early flower
Or catch the ‘millar thumb’ in summers sultry hour

169

106

There once was days the wood man knows it well
When shades een echod wi the singing thrush
There once was hours the ploughmens tale can tell
When mornings beauty wore its earliest blush
How woodlarks carrold from each stumpy bush
Lubin himself has markd em soar & sing
The thorns are gone the woodlarks song is hush
Spring more resembles winter now then spring
The shades are banishd all—the birds betook to wing

107

There once was lanes in natures freedom dropt
There once was paths that every valley wound
Inclosure came & every path was stopt
Each tyrant fixt his sign were pads was found
To hint a trespass now who crossd the ground
Justice is made to speak as they command
The high road now must be each stinted bound
—Inclosure thourt a curse upon the land
& tastless was the wretch who thy existance pland

108

O england boasted land of liberty
Wi strangers still thou mayst thy title own
But thy poor slaves the alteration see
Wi many a loss to them the truth is known
Like emigrating bird thy freedoms flown
While mongrel clowns low as their rooting plough
Disdain thy laws to put in force their own
& every village owns its tyrants now
& parish slaves must live as parish kings alow

170

109

Ye fields ye scenes so dear to lubins eye
Ye meadow blooms ye pasture flowers farwell
Ye banishd trees ye make me deeply sigh
Inclosure came & all your glories fell
Een the old oak that crownd yon rifld dell
Whose age had made it sacred to the view
Not long was left his childerns fate to tell
Where ignorance & wealth their course pursue
Each tree must tumble down—old ‘lea close oak’ adieu

110

Lubin beheld it all & deeply paind
Along the railed road woud muse & sigh
The only path that freedoms rights maintaind
The naked scenes drew pity from his eye
Tears dropt to mem'ry of delights gone bye
The haunts of freedom cowherds wattld bower
& shepherds huts & trees that tow[e]red high
& spreading thorns that turnd a summer shower
All captives lost & past to sad oppresions power

111

& oft wi shepherds he woud sit to sigh
On past delights of many a by gone day
& look on scenes now naked to the eye
& talk as how they once were clothed gay

171

& how the runnel wound its weedy way
& how the willows on its margin grew
Talk oer wi them the rural feats of may
Who got the blossoms neath the morning dew
That the last garland made & where such blossoms grew

112

As how he coud remember well when he
Laden wi blooming treasures from the plain
Has mixt wi them beneath a dotterel tree
Drove from his cowslips by a hasty rain
& heard em there sing each delightful strain
& how wi tales what joys they usd to wake
Wishing wi them such days woud come again
They lovd the artless boy for talking sake
& gave it out some future day a wondrous man hed make

113

& you ye poor ragd out casts of the land
That hug your shifting camps from green to green
He lovd to see your humble dwelling stand
& thought your groups did beautify the scene
Tho blamd for many a petty theft yeve been
Poor wandering souls to fates hard want decreed
Doubtless too oft such acts your ways bemean
& oft in wrong your foes 'gen you proceed
& brand a gipseys camp when others do the deed

172

114

Lubin woud love to list their gibberish talk
& view the oddity such ways display
& oft wi boys pursud his sunday walk
Where warpt the camp beneath the willows grey
& its black tennants on the green sward lay
While on two forked sticks wi cordage tyd
Their pot oer pilferd fuel boils away
Wi food of sheep that of red water dyd
Or any nauceous thing their frowning fates provide

115

Tho oft they gather money by their trade
& on their fortune telling art subsist
Where her long hurded groat oft brings the maid
& secret slives it in the sybils fist
To buy good luck & happiness—to list
What occupys a wenches every thought
Who is to be the man—while as she wist
The gipsies tale wi swains & wealth is fraught
The lass returns well pleasd & thinks all cheaply bought

116

Full oft in summer lubins markt & seen
How eagerly the village maids pursue
Their sunday rambles where the camps have been
& how they gi' their money to the crew

173

For idle stories they believe as true
Crossing their hands wi coin or magic stick
How quakt the young to hear what things they knew
While old experiencd dames knew all the trick
Who said that all their skill was borrowd from old nick

117

& thus the superstitious dread their harm
& neer dare fail relieving their distress
Lest they wi in their cot shoud leave a charm
To let nought prosper & bring on distress
Great depth of cunning gipseys do posses
& when such weakness in a dame they find
Forsooth they prove most terryfying guess
& tho not one to charity inclind
They mutter black revenge & force her to be kind

118

His native scenes o sweet endearing sound
Sure neer a heart does beat howere forlorn
But the warmd breast has soft emotions found
To cherish the dear spot where it was born
Een the poor hedger in the early morn
Chopping the pattering bushes hung wi dew
Scarce lays his mitten on a branching thorn
But painfull mem'ry banishd thoughts renew
Reminding when't was young what happy days he knew

174

119

When the old shepherd wi his wooly locks
Crosses the green past joys his eyes will fill
Where when a boy he usd to tend his flocks
Each fringed rushy bed & swelling hill
Where he has playd or stretchd him at his will
Freshning anew on lifes declining years
& jogs his memory wi their pleasures still
O how such things his native scenes endears
No spot throughout the world to him so pleasingly appears

120

The toil worn thresher in his little cot
Whose roof did shield his birth & still remains
His dwelling place how rough so ere his lot
His toil tho hard & small the wage he gains
That many a child most piningly mentains
Send him to distant scenes & better fare
How woud his bosom yearn wi parting pains
How woud he turn & look & linger there
& wish een now his cot & poverty to share

121

How dear to soldiers does the relic prove
Took from his cot or gave by loves sweet hand
A box that bears a motto of true love
How will he take his quid & musing stand

175

Think on his native lass & native land
& bring to mind all those past joys again
From which wild youth so foolish was trepand
Kissing the pledge that all these ways retain
While fancy points the spot far oer the barring main

122

O dear delightfull spots his native place
How lubin lookd upon the days gone bye
How he tho young woud past delights retrace
Bend oer gulld holes where stood his trees & sigh
Wi tears the while bemoistning in his eye
How hed look for the green a green no more
Mourning to scenes that made him no reply
Save the strong accents they in memory bore
‘Our scenes that charmd thy youth are dead to bloom no more’

123

O samely naked leas so bleak so strange
How woud he wander oer ye to complain
& sigh & wish he neer had known the change
To see the plough share bury all the plain
& not a cows lip on its lap remain
The rush tuft gone that hid the sky larks nest
Ah when will may morn hear such strains again
The storms beats chilly on his naked breast
No shelter grows to shield him now no home invites to rest

176

124

‘Ah’ woud he sigh ‘ye neath the churchyard grass
‘Ye sleeping shepherds coud ye rise again
‘& see what since your time has come to pass
‘See neer a bush nor willow now remain
‘Looking & listning for the brook in vain
‘Yed little think as such your natal scene
‘Yed little now distinguish field from plain
‘Or where to look for each departed green
‘All ploughd & buried now as tho there nought had been

125

But still they beamd wi beautys on his eye
& other scenes wa'n't half so sweet to view
& other flowers but strove in vain to vie
Wi his few tufts that scap'd the wreck & grew
& sky larks too their singing might pursue
To claim his praise—he coud but only say
Their songs were sweet but not like those he knew
That charmd his native plains at early day
Whose equals neer was found where ere his steps might stray

126

When distant village feast or noisey fair
Short abscence from his fields did him detain
How woud he feel when home he did repair
& mixt among his joys—the white spire fane

177

Meeting his eye above the elms again
Leaving his friends in the sweet summer night
No longer lost on unknown field or plain
Far from the pad wi well known haunts in sight
Hed stray for scatterd flowers wi added new delight

127

As travellers returnd from foreign ground
Feels more endearments for his native earth
So lubin cherishd from each weary round
Still warmer fondness for those scenes of mirth
Those plains & that dear cot which gave him birth
& oft this warmness for his fields hed own
Mixd wi his friends around the cottage hearth
Relating all the travels he had known
& that hed seen no spot so lovly as his own

128

Nor has his taste wi manhood ere declind
Yell now oft see him on his lonly way
Oer stile or gate in thoughtfull mood reclind
Or long the road wi folded arms to stray
Mixing wi autumns sighs or summer gay
& curious natures secrets to explore
Brushing the twigs of wood or copse away
To roam the lonely shade so silently
Sweet muttering oer his joys from clowns intrusions free

178

129

Ah who can tell the anxiousness of mind
As now he doth to manhoods cares aspire
The future blessings which he hopes to find
The wisht for prospects of his hearts desire
& how chill fear oft damps the glowing fire
& oer hopes sunshine spread a cloudy gloom
Yet foild & foild hopes still his songs inspire
& like the daisey on the cotters tomb
In mellancholy scenes he 'joys his cheerless bloom

130

He has his friends compard to foes tho few
& like a cornflower in a field of grain
Mong many a foe his wild weeds ope to view
& malice mocks him wi a rude disdain
Proving pretensions to the muse as vain
They deem her talents far beyond his skill
& hiss his efforts as some forged strain
But as hopes smile their tongues shall all be still
Een envy turns a friend when shes no power to kill

131

Ah as the traveller from the mountain top
Looks down on misty kingdoms spread below
& meditates beneath the steepey drop
What life & lands exist & oceans flow

179

How feign that hour the anxious soul woud know
Of all his eye beholds—but its in vain
So lubin eager views this world of woe
& wishes time her secrets woud explain
If he may live for joys to come or sink in welming pain

132

Fates close kept thoughts wi in her bosom hide
She is no gossip secrets to betray
Times steady movements must her end descide
& leave him painfull still to hope the day
& group thro ignorance his doubtful way
By wisdoms disregard & fools anoyd
& if no worth anticipates the lay
Then let his childish notions be destroyd
& he his time employ as erst its been employd

133

Thiss far intruded lubins tale shall close
Small joy wi whats to come to interfere
Where he in silent sorrow broods his woes
As manhoods painful prime approaches near
& drops on troubles its unheeded tear
Tho now & then may hope beguile his way
& the low muse his sleepless night may cheer
Ere while suffice it to renew the lay
When fortune finds him out in some far welcome day

180

CAUPER GREEN

Now eves hours hot noons succeed
& days herralds winged speed
Flusht wi summers ruddy face
Hies to light some cooler place
Now her hand wip 'dustrys dropt
And the din of labours stopt
Horses gingling in their gears
Waggons ringing in ones ears
Lumping frail & smacking whip
Boys loud bawls of ‘rose’ & ‘hip’
All are silent free from care
Welcome boon of night to share
Pleasd I wander from the town
Pestered by the selfish clown
Whose whole learnings hogs & cows
Horses best for carts & ploughs
Whose talk tho spun the night about
Hogs cows & horses spins it out

181

Far from these so low so vain
Glad I wind me down the lane
Where a deeper gloom pervades
Tween the hedges narrow shades
Where a mimic night hour spreads
Neath the ash groves meeting heads
Onward there I glad proceed
Where the inscet & the weed
Courts my eye as I pursue
Somthing curious worthy view
Chiefly tho my wanderings bend
Where the ashen groves do end
& this lane end lights the scene
Of thy lovd prospects cauper green
Tho no runnels sandy sweep
Down thy shaggy sides do creep
Save as when thy rutt gulld lanes
Run little brooks wi hasty rains
Tho no yellow plains alow
Food on thee for sheep or cow
Where on listning ears so sweet
Falls the mellow low & bleat
Greeting on eves dewey gale
Resting fold & milking pail
Tho nor these adorn thy scene
Still I love thee cauper green
Some may love the grass plat whims
Where the gardner weekly trims
& cut hedge & lawn adore
Which their shears have smoothend oer
But from prospects such as these
Tastless samness neer to please

182

Leave me lonly pondering still
Nature when she blooms at will
In her kindred taste & joy
Wildness & variety
When the firs have leave to wreath
Their dark prickles oer the heath
Where the grey grown awtrees spread
Foliagd houses oer ones head
By the spoiling ax untoucht
Where the oak tree knarld & notcht
Lifts its deep mossd furrowd side
In natures grandeur natures pride
Still be such my favourd scene
Still I seek the[e] cauper green
& full pleasd woud natures child
Wander oer thy narrow wild
Marking well thy shaggy head
Where uncheckt the brambles spread
Where the thistle meets the sight
With its down head cotton white
& the nettle keen to view
& the hemlocks gloomy hue
Where the henbane finds a room
For its sickly stinking bloom
& full many a namless weed
Neglect leaves to run to seed
Seemly wi disgust by those
Who judge a blossom by a nose
Wildness is my suiting scene
Pleasd I seek thee cauper green
Still thou ought to have thy meed
To show thy flower as wells thy weed
Tho no fays on ma[y]days lap
Cowslips on thee cares to drop

183

Still does nature yearly bring
Fairest herolds of the spring
On thy woods warm sunny side
Primrose blooms in all its pride
Violets carpet all thy bowers
& anemonies weeping flowers
Dyd in winters snow & ryhme
Constant to their early time
Whites the leaf strewn ground agen
& makes each wood a garden then
Thines full many a pleasing bloom
Of blossoms lost to all perfume
Thines the dandelion-flowers
Gilt wi dew like suns wi showers
Hare bells thine & bugles blue
& cuckoo flowers all sweet to view
Thy wild w[o]ad on each road we see
& medicinal betony
By thy wood side railing reeves
Wi antique mullins flannel leaves
These tho mean the flowers of wastes
Planted here in natures haste
Each prove on the zerning eye
Her lovd wild variety
Each have charms in natures book
I cannot pass wi out a look
& thou canst boast thy herbs & plants
Which only gardens culture wants
Thy horehound tufts I love em well
& ploughmens spiknards spicey smell
Thy thyme strong scented neath ones feet
Thy marjoram beds so doubly sweet
& pennyroyals creeping twine
These each succeeding each are thine
Spreading oer thee wild & gay
Blessing spring or summers day

184

As herb flower weed adorn thy scene
Pleasd I seek thee cauper green
Blest I oft zigzag me round
Thy uneven heathy ground
Here a knowl & there a scoop
Jostling down & clambering up
Which the sand mans delving spade
& the pitmans pix has made
Tho many a year has oer thee rolld
Since the grass first hid the mould
& many a hole has delved thee still
Since peace clothd each mimic hill
Where the pitmen often find
Antique coins of varied kind
& neath many a loosend block
Unbeds coffins in the rock
Casting up the skull & bone
Heedless as one hurls a stone
Not a thought of battles bye
Bloody times of chivallry
When each countrys kingly lord
Gainst his neighbour drew his sword
& on many a hidden scene
Now a hamlet field or green
Wagd his little bloody fight
To keep his freedom & his right
& doubtless such was once the scene
Of thee time shrouded cauper green
O I love a glimpse to see
Of hoary bald antiquity
& often in my musings sigh
Where ere such relics meet my eye
To think that historys early page
Should yield to black oblivions rage

185

& een wi out a mention made
Resign em to his deadly shade
& leave congecture but to pause
That such & such might be the cause
Sweet the fragments to observe
Times so kind as to preserve
Wrecks the cowboy often meets
On the mole hills thymy seats
While by carless pulling weeds
Chance unbares the shining beeds
That to tastful minds display
Relics of the druid day
Opening on congecturing eyes
Some lone hermits paradise
Doubtless where as so it might
Such like relics meet the sight
On each self same spot of ground
Where the cowboys beads are found
Hermits once from worldly care
Fled & mossd a cottage there
Livd on herbs that there abound
Food & phisic doubly found
Herbs that have existance still
In every vale on every hill
Whose virtues only wi em dyd
As rural life gave way to pride
Doubtless too oblivions blot
Blacks some sacred lonly spot
‘Cauper green’ as so it may
That once was thine in early day
Thou might hide thy pilgrims then
From the plague of worldly men
Thou might here posses thy cells
Wholsome herbs & pilgrim wells

186

& doubtlessly this very seat
This thyme capt hill beneath ones feet
Might be or nearly so the spot
On which arose his lonly cot
& on that very 'xisting bank
Clothed in its sedges rank
Grass might grow & mosses spread
That thatchd his roof & made his bed
& such might be for such I love
To think & fancy as I rove
Oer thy wood encircld hill
A vain world shuning p[i]lgrim still
Hail thou natal pleasing scene
Pleasd I seek thee cauper green
While the dew mists faster fall
& the night her gloomy pall
Blackening flings tween earth & sky
Hiding all things from the eye
Nor broken seam nor thin spun screen
The moon can find to peep between
When thy unmolested grass
Untrackd even by the ass
Spindld up its destind height
Far too sour for stock to bite
Drooping hangs each feeble joint
Wi a glass nob on its point
When the dewy laden brake
Hiding holes the rabbits make
Oer the narrow pathways neet
Sops the shoes & wets the feet
Then fancys sleep shall leave thy scene
& bid good night to cauper green

187

RECCOLECTIONS AFTER A RAMBLE

The rosey day was sweet & young
The clod brown lark that haild the morn
Had just her summer anthem sung
& trembling dropped in the corn

188

The dew raisd flower was perk & proud
The butterflye around it playd
The skyes blue clear save wooly cloud
That passt the sun without a shade

On the pismires castle hill
While the burnet buttons quakd
While beside the stone pavd rill
Cowslap bunshes nodding shakd
Bees in every peep did try
Great had been the honey shower
Soon their load was on their thigh
Yellow dust as fine as flour

Brazen magpies full of clack
Fond of insolence & sport
Chattering on the donkeys back
Percht & pulld his shaggy coat
Odd crows settld on the pad
Dames from milking trotting home
Said no sign was half so bad
& shakd their heads at ills to come

While cows restless from the ground
Plungd into the stream & drank
& the rings went wirling round
Till they toucht the flaggy bank
On the arches wall I knelt
Curious as I often did
To see what the sculpture spelt
But the moss its letters hid

189

Labour sought the water cool
& stretching took a hearty sup
The fish were playing in the pool
& turnd their milk white bellys up
Cloths laid down behind a bush
Wading close beside the pad
Deeply did the maiden blush
As she passd each naked lad

Some with lines the fish to catch
Querking boys let loose from school
Others side the hedgrow watch
Where the linnet took the wool
Tending hodge had slept too fast
While his things had strayd abroad
Swift the freed horse gallopd past
Pattering down the stoney road

The gipsey tune was loud & strong
As round the camp they dancd a gig
& much I lovd the brown girls song
While listing on the wooden brig
The shepherd he was on his rounds
The dog stopt short to lap the stream
& gingling in the fallow grounds
The ploughman urgd his reaking team

& left free to every whim
Which my rambling search coud meet
Seeking joys that suited him
Pleas'd I shar'd the shephards seat

190

Counting hues in varied wings
As each butterflye did pass
Marking morts of namless things
How they jumpt among the grass

As he eat his crust of bread
Wondering much when beetles stopt
By what instinct they were led
To the crumbles which he dropt
Loading off in order free
Trackless oer the fuzzy dust
When he calld em ‘wise as we’
Sure enough I thought they must

Often did I stop to gaze
On each spot once dear to me
Known mong those rememberd days
Of banishd happy infancy
Often did I view the shade
Where once a nest my eyes did fill
& often markd the place I playd
At ‘roley poley’ down the hill

In the woods deep shade did stand
As I passd the sticking troop
& goody begd a helping hand
To heave her rotten faggot up
The riding gate sharp gerking round
Followd fast my heels again
While echo mocks the clapping sound
& ‘clap clap’ sung the woods amain

191

The wood is sweet I love it well
In spending there my leisure hours
To look the snail its painted shell
& search about for curious flowers
Or neath the hazels leafy thatch
On a stulp or mossy ground
Little squirrels gambols watch
Oak trees dancing round & round

Green was the shade—I love the woods
When autumns wind is mourning loud
To see the leaves float on the floods
Dead within their yellow shroud
The wood was then in glory spread
I love the browning bough to see
That litters autumns dying bed
Her latest sigh is dear to me

Neath a spreading shady oak
For awhile to muse I lay
From its grains a bough I broke
To fan the teasing flies away
Then I sought the woodland side
Cool the breeze my face did meet
& the sun the shade did hide
Tho twas hot it seemed sweet

& as while I clum the hill
Many a distant charm I found
Pausing on the lagging mill
That scarcly movd its sails around
Hanging oer a gate or stile
Till my curious eye did tire
Leisure was employd awhile
Counting many a peeping spire

192

While the hot sun gun to wain
Cooling glooms fast deep[n]ing still
& freshning greeness spread the plain
As black clouds crept the southern hill
Labour sought a sheltering place
Neath some thick wood woven bower
While odd rain drops dampt his face
Heralds of the coming shower

Where the oak plank crosst the stream
Which the early rising lass
Climbs each morn wi gathering cream
Crookd pads tracking thro the grass
There where willows hing their boughs
Briars & black thorns formd a bower
Stunted thick from sheep & cows
There I stood to shun the shower

Sweet it was to feel the breeze
Blowing cool without the sun
Bumming gad flies ceasd to teaze
All was glad the shower to shun
Sweet it was to mark the flower
Rain drops glistning on its head
Perking up beneath the bower
As if rising from the dead

& full sweet it was to look
How clouds misted oer the hill
Rain drops how they dimpt the brook
Falling fast & faster still
While the gudgeons sturting bye
Cringd neath water grasses shade
Startling as each nimble eye
Saw the rings the dropples made

193

& upon the dripping ground
As the shower had ceasd again
As the eye was wandering round
Trifling troubles causd a pain
Overtaken in the shower
Bumble bees I wanderd bye
Clinging to the drowking flower
Left without the power to flye

& full often drowning wet
Scampering beetles rac'd away
Safer shelter glad to get
Drownded out from whence they lay
While the moth for nights reprief
Waited safe & snug withall
Neath the plantains bowery leaf
Where there neer a drop coud fall

Then the clouds did wear again
& full sweet it was to view
Sunbeams trembling long in vain
Now they gun to glimmer thro'
& as labour strength regains
From ales booning bounty given
So revivd the freshning plains
From the smiling showers of heaven

Sweet the birds did chant their songs
Blackbird linnet lark & thrush
Music from a many tongues
Melted from each dripping bush
Deafnd echo on the plain
As the sunbeams broke the cloud
Scarce coud help repeat the strain
Natures anthem flowd so loud

194

What a freshning feeling came
As the suns smile gleamd again
Sultry summer wa'n't the same
Such a mildness swept the plain
Breezes such as one woud seek
Trembld thro the bramble bower
Fanning sweet the burning cheek
Cooling infants of the shower

Inscets of misterious birth
Sudden struck my wondering sight
Doubtless brought by moister forth
Hid in notts of spittle white
Backs of leaves the burthen bears
Where the sunbeams cannot stray
‘Wood sears’ calld that wet declares
So the knowing shepherds say

As the cart rutt rippl'd down
With the burthen of the rain
Boys came drabbling from the town
Glad to meet their sports again
Stopping up the mimic rills
Till it forcd its frothy bound
Then the keck made water mills
In the current wiskerd round

Once again did memory pain
Oer the life she once had led
Once did manhood wish again
Childish joys had never fled
Could I lay these woes aside
Which I long have murmurd oer
‘Mix a boy wi boys’ she sighd
Fate shoud neer be teazd no more

195

Hot the sun in summer warms
Quick the roads dry oer the plain
Girls wi baskets on their arms
Soon renewd their sports again
Oer the green they sought their play
Where the cowslip bunshes grew
Quick the rush bent fannd away
As they dancd & bounded thro’

Some went searching by the wood
Peeping neath the weaving thorn
Where the pouchd lip'd cuckoo bud
From its snug retreat was torn
Where the ragged robbin grew
With its pipd stem streakd wi jet
& the crow flowers golden hue
Carless plenty easier met

Some wi many an anxious pain
Childish wishes did pursue
From the pond head gazd in vain
On the flag flowers yellow hue
Smiling in its safety there
Sleeping oer its shadowd blow
While the floods triumphing care
Crimpld round its root below

Then I stood to pause again
Retrospection sighd & smild
Musing 'tween a joy & pain
How I acted when a child
When by clearing brooks Ive bin
When the painted sky was given
Thinking if I tumbld in
I shoud fall direct to heaven

196

Many an hour had comd & gone
Sin the town last met my eye
Where huge baskets mauling on
Maids hung out their cloths to dry
Granny there was on the bench
Cooly sitting in the swail
Stopping oft a love sick wench
To pinch her snuff & hear her tale

Be the journey ere so mean
Passing by a cot or tree
In the rout theres somthing seen
Which the curious love to see
In each ramble tastes warm souls
More of wisdoms self can view
Then blind ignorance beholds
All lifes seven stages through

Rurallity I dearly love thee
Simple as thy numbers run
Epics song may soar above thee
Still thy sweetness yields to none
Cots to sing & woods & vales
Tho its all thy reed can do
These with nature shall prevail
When epics war harps broke in two

197

SONG

[The spring returns the gushing rains]

The spring returns the gushing rains
No more defile the scene
Nor in her cot the maid detains
Long banishd from the green
Each awthorn buds sufficient bower
To hide the amourous dove
O philida in such a hour
How sweet to meet & love

The snows are all desolvd & gone
The gale breaths mild & warm
Springs put the earths green mantle on
New strewd wi flowers to charm
Each milking maid attends her cow
True meeting swains to prove
O philida how sweet as now
Wi thee to walk & love

The even comes in purple clad
The sun has left the view
The willow groves hang oer the pad
To shield us from the dew
No eyes break undistinguish night
To watch us or reprove
O philida my souls delight
Haste let us hide & love

198

MILTON HUNT

The Milton hunt again begun
Break[s] autumns dappld skys
While yon red east its blushing sun
Awakens in supprise
The bugle sounds away away
The chevy chace begins
The praise the honours of the day
The hardiest hunter wins

For blood bred steeds no reigns can check
& true scent nosed hound
For sportsmen fearless of a neck
No chace is more renownd
The echoing woods are all alive
The hounds are on the run
Oer hedge & gate see how they drive
The daring routs begun

199

The cracking whip & scarlet coat
Draws all eyes round em now
Een startld giles puts in his note
& scampers from his plough
The bugle sounds away away
The chevy chase begins
The praise the honours of the day
The hardiest hunter wins

THE LABOURERS PASSING SIGH

Yon cot that does in ruins lye
I well do know the time
Said an old labourer passing bye
When it was in its prime
Its dweller too I knew him well
An idle lazey lown
Who left neglect it till it fell
By piece meal crumbles down

& store of wealth he once did own
But wealth has many a wing
& sloath soon makes if let alone
A beggar of a king

200

A farthing from a mizers store
The loss he quickly sees
As ice the feeble sun shines oer
Turns water by degrees

Each thistle cares spud never topt
Spread families around
& nettles by the wall unstopt
Marchd regments oer the ground
Each coming year more idly usd
In worser plight succeeds
Till lands their crops of corn refusd
To nurse a crop of weeds

Industry valued is thy fame
Thourt salve for many a sore
The man tho poor thats got thy name
Gilds many a failing oer
Their credit tho not worth a straw
Meets friends were'ere they go
While idleness a sorry flaw
Turns every friend a foe

His creditors was soon in view
Sad news quick takes the air
Made worse by liars adding too
As counterfits by ware
The last act safe a bankrupt brings
In idlenesses plays
The curtain oer a workhouse hings
& sorrow ends his days

201

BALLAD

[When natures beauty shines compleat]

When natures beauty shines compleat
Wi summers lovly weather
& evens shadows hang discreet
Brought swains & maids together
Then I did meet a charming face
But who—Ill be discreet
Tho lords emselves wi out disgrace
Might love whom I did meet

‘Good evening lovly lass’ said I
To make her silence break
The instant evenings blushing skye
Was rivald on her cheek
Her eyes were turnd upon the ground
She made me no reply
But down ward looks my bosom found
‘Yeve won me’ wisperd I

& I did try all love coud do
& she tryd all to flye
Now lingering slow to let me go
Then hurrying to go bye
‘My love’ said I ‘yeve me mistook
‘No harm from me yell meet’
She only answerd wi a look
But it was witching sweet

202

I begd excuse for freedoms case
& questiond bout her cot
She lifted up her lovly face
& pointed to the spot
& what was more—Ill be discreet
Tho nought of harm befell
I gaind her love & provd it sweet
Beyond what words can tell

I ownd my love & praisd her eyes
Whose power she little knew
& doubtless then she fancied lies
What since shes proved true
Confusions mingling fear & shame
Between the ‘yes’ & ‘no’
O when I mentiond loves soft name
How sweet her cheeks did glow

I told her all the open truth
Bout being a labouring swain
Wi not one groat to boast forsooth
But what hard work did gain
& begd excuse in such like clo'hs
Wi in her way to fall
Wenches are taen wi flashy beaus
But she excusd it all

As neer the humble cot we came
Her fears did meet alarm
Fear freends imprudent ways shoud blame
& think I meant her harm
So there I prest her to my heart
& there a kiss I taen
& there I vowd ere we did part
To meet her soon again

203

SONG

[Dropt here & there upon the flower]

Dropt here & there upon the flower
I love the dew to see
For then does come the evens hour
That is so dear to me
When silence reigns upon the plain
& night hides all or nearly
For then I meet the smiles again
Of her I love so dearly

O how I love yon dusky plains
Tho others there may be
As much belovd by other swains
But nones so dear to me
Their thorn buds smell as sweet the while
Their brooks may run as clearly
But what are they wi out the smile
Of her I love so dearly

In yonder bower the maid Ive met
Where still I love to meet
The dew drops fall the sun has set
O evening thou art sweet
Hopes eye feign breaks the misty glooms
The times expird or nearly
Ah faithfull still & here she comes
Who woud but love thee dearly

204

Tho still we meet neath fates controul
Who knows the luck that shall come
& then thou idol of my soul
Still meet & thoult be welcome
I wish I had for sake o' thee
A lords estate or nearly
Thou soon shoud see whod ladys be
& who I love so dearly

BALLAD

[Besseys the top wench that walks on a sunday]

Besseys the top wench that walks on a sunday
To seek for a sweet heart or show a new dress
Once I lovd nelly a short stump a grundy
But soon left her off when I saw bonny bess
Bess at the moment my heart gun a stealing
I quakt like a leef when we met tother day
O lud as I passd her Id such a quere feeling
My heart turnd as cold as a nogging of clay

I kept dilly dally fear shed me be scorning
Tho morts of good kindnesses beamd in her eye
So I seizd on the chance as I met her this morning
& catchd her white hand as she went to slip bye

205

‘How do’ said I bessey & dont ye be shanny
Say will ye be mine or Jack straws will ye be
She turnd ah as red as the cloak of her granny
John straw sed she softly is nothing to me

Ah ah thinks I bessey I see how it work[s] ye
I see who your bosom esteems as the chap
Her cheek now woud crumple as red as a turkey
& then again sadden as white as her cap
She sed shed no reasons to find a fault wi me
& that were as much as she ought to confess
Well honey said I take that kiss frow yere Jemmy
& you'd tell yer mother yer his bonney bess

TO THE MUSE

Up wi ye drowsy drizzling muse
Nor clag yer clouts nor foul yer shoes
Wi peeping in the dabbling dews
On rural sights
Up wi ye aim at higher views
& bolder flights

Yeve food enough to feed desires
Sin gents & cits & country squires
Your artless first atempts admires
Thou worst of beagles
Im sure yeve kindling for yer fires
To soar wi eagles

206

& hark ye muse yer infant blaze
That gis the world a fortnights gaze
& wonder gawps an hours amaze
Here lies the game
If ye cant come at bolder lays
Yowms tinder flame

Like this spank beaver crown o mine
Yer starting out is fresh & fine
But mortal things to time decline
Mark to your sorrow
How ere today yer light may shine
Its out tomorrow

So put yer mettle to the rout
& wind some glorious tale about
Leave milking wenches ballads out
For things more clever
Think yere too high for ploughing lout
& cock yer beaver

Doubtless yeve got some vile intent
To leave me for some scribbling ghent
Wi grammers tinsel ornament
Profusley taen
& on such jelting finery bent
Poor me disdain

L---d helps Id take it mighty hard
When a'ter all this fusst regard
& all this promisd great reward
How yed protect me
To stilt me up a rustic bard
& then neglect me

Ye sur 'ts a fernal provocation
To bid me strut above my station
& jump my name about the nation
& then go leave me
& preach me oer a fine oration
Just to decieve me

207

If thats the scheme yeve in yer head
The L---d forbid yell be my dead
My goose quill trembles now wi dread
As Id a tartern
O chatterton I dread I dread
To meet thy fortune

A jackdaw on a weather fane
Wi borrowd primpt wings hither taen
Yeve pinacled yer 'xalted swain
For crows to peck
These critic crows a quawking train
Theyll brake his neck

SONG

[Thrice welcome sweet summer in softness returning]

Thrice welcome sweet summer in softness returning
Thrice welcome ye skies wi no clouds on your brow
Again ye return my delights of the morning
& clean up the roads to tempt doll to her cow

Thrice welcome ye flowers I rejoice in your blooming
Ye cowslaps dew shaken by night roving cow
& eglantine brambles of sweetest perfuming
Ill rub off your prickles a wreath for her brow

& welcome ye awthorns your green leaves delight me
Oer arching the brook wi your thick screening bough
In your secret shelter shall kisses invite me
To bear home the load of my love from her cow

208

BALLAD

[Theres nelly my rose & theres philly my lilly]

Theres nelly my rose & theres philly my lilly
Two sweet bonny lasses where ever they be
Dividing the heart of poor wandering willey
As hopless he sighs on the sea

Nelly my rosey provd false & undid me
Wounding the bosom that nourishd the tree
Philly my lilly—her riches forbid me
Her fathers unkindness forcd me on the sea

Nellys my rosey & phillys my lilly
Both my tormentors where ever they be
Pride stained nelly & riches wrongd philly
Still must I hoplessly sigh on the sea

SONG

[When Jimmy did leave me the thorns wer in blossom]

When Jimmy did leave me the thorns wer in blossom
Three years have gone bye but I think on the day
I stoopt for a cowslip to stick in my bosom
While he from the bush got a branch of the may

209

& when we had done wi our vows & our parling
My heart when I think ont wi doubtfulness burns
He held it to me & he calld me his darling
Saying take this & keep it till Jimmy returns

A keep sake so odd did he mean to abuse me
& give me the thorn that his scorn I might see
But how foolish girl—coud he mean to ill use me
When he rubd off the pricks ere he gave it to me
We parted good friends & he hugld me dearly
& telld me hed neer gi me cause for a pain
& so coud I think were his last vow sincerly
Saying go where I will my heart stick to my Jane

BALLAD

[How do my dear kitty said snuffy nosd ben]

How do my dear kitty said snuffy nosd ben
& dropped him down on the stile very free
No better for snuffey thinks I to my sen
So ye neednt come croughing yer breeks agen me

210

He thumbd out his snuff box & snapt up the lid
& kitty said he will ye try if its good
—I only meant pinching his snuff if I did
Let snuffy nosd benny go think as he woud

But he gun to brag bout his cows & his cottage
& smile i' my face his whole meaning to me
As how hed got bread ready crumbd for his pottage
& them that he married fine ladys shoud be
& as he ran on his red nose it kep' dropping
Then he out wi his snuff rag & quite sickend I
But lud on'y think of his cottage & cropping
What chances Id misst if Id let it slip bye

I know very well if Id had jack the thresher
I might as ben sed stick my mouth up & all
Tho I heartily likd him—theres but little pleasure
To starve in a hut wi bare shelves on the wall
Ben saw me half tempted & venturd to snudge me
His snuff flew about me a sight to be seen
Lud how coud I let such a nasty thing touch me
But golds a good snuff rag to keep his nose clean

211

THE GIPSEY

Poor nell let a gipsey drink out of her pail
To tell her her fortune if lovers wer true
While robin her swain hind a thorn i' the vale
A chatting wi susey kept out of her view
& soon as he saw the old red cloaked preacher
He brusht up to nelly her fortune to know
‘& what nelly’ fleering said he ‘says yer teacher
‘A bag full of riches & husbands I trow’

& ye shut yer mouth & no jokes be ye blobbing
To them gets yer kisses yer jokes may be spard
& them ye ha' bin wi' there go agen robin
The gipseys good cautions put me on my guard
& if ye mun know on't ye good for nought rover
She sed if I een took a sweep to be mine
Nay find who I woud to be husband or lover
Theyd own not a heart so decietful as thine

& robin gan call the old sorc'rer a beadle
& vowd she told falsly—‘but hold’ sed the dame
‘Who lay in yer arms when ye calld for a feedle
‘Behint yonder busk as my mow & I came

212

‘On where ye arch rogue is the gipsey so early
As washing her clags by the side o' the tent
When ye winkt yer eye held yer thumb tow['r]d the barley
& woud gen [her] a groat—if shed gen her consent

TO ---

[Lovly bud wi many weeds surrounded]

Lovly bud wi many weeds surrounded
I once again address thee wi a song
To cheer thee up gen envys adder tongue
That deeply oft thy reputation wounded
& did thy tender blossom mickle wrong
But look thou up—tis known in natures law
That serpents search the honey hurding bee
Rosmarys sweets the loathsome toad will draw
So beauty curdles envys look on thee
Fain woud the peacocks tail the bow express
Which paints the clouds so sweet in aprils rain
So fast as rain that imp of ugliness
Mimics thy lovly blossom but in vain
& feign woud poison what she cant posses

213

MORNING

O now the crimson east its fire streak burning
Tempts me to wander neath the blushing morn
Winding the zig zag lane turning & turning
As winds the crooked fences wilderd thorn
O wheres the eye can gaze upon the dawn
That flushes yon blue sky of cloudless heaven
& gilds the prospect round below—what eye
Can look upon the beautys morn has given
& look unmovd, sure neer a soul thats living
The soul must be extinct who passes bye
I cannot pass the very bramble weeping
Neath dewy tear drops that its spears surround
Like harlots mockery on the wan cheek creeping
Gilding the poison that is meant to wound
I cannot pass the bent ere gales have shaken
Its transient crowning off each point adorning
But all the feelings of my soul awaken
To own the witcheries of most lovley morning

214

APPROACH OF WINTER

The russet meads speaks summers fragrance fled
The falling leaves tell autumns plenty bye
The gushing rains have made grim winters bed
& all thy victim hails wi out a sigh
The housless vagrant bending to the storm
To feed wi' birds on berry baring tree
Doubts not the deed tomorrow may perform
As worse then what he is can never be
& such grim winters he who welcomes thee
A poor rude being dropt upon the earth
Prest wi all troubles lifes worst hand lays on
A harmless wormlings undefended birth
For fates inhuman foot to tread upon
Winter no troubles new thy storms atend
Life destines me one winter to its end
O had it dwindld thro its 'tinued blast
& death wipd by the clouds to light me home
Sure I might hope to think the worst was past
& once taste comfort in that life to come

215

A SIGH

Again freckld cowslips beguildeth the plain
& crow flowers again yellow over the lea
Again the spreckt throstle comes in wi her tale
& welcomes the spring—but no spring can I see

I once haild the throstle her singing begun
& bathd in springs dew when her flower met my eyes
I sought for the king cup all clothd i' the sun
& gatherd my cowslaps & joyd i the prize

They brought natures spring & they comforted me
They wipd winter off & did pleasure restore
But alas in their tidings a change can I see
Fates added a postscript ‘thy spring is no more’

216

[O why was love sent here to kill]

O why was love sent here to kill
Wi feelings of the pleasure
When only those wi wealth at will
Can purchase edens treasure
If nature coupld love & gold
Why not confinment try it
Wi those who do the traffic hold
Wi store o wealth to buy it

O love wi in thy gilt retreat
Where long my hearts bin taken
In fancys visions thou art sweet
Till reason bids em waken
Thou art a sun of fairy sky
Real smiling on me never
But mocking till hopes visions fly
Then want hides all forever

AN AFTER REPENTANCE

I seek the shops thats full o noise
Where signs in gay temptations hing
& join the ranting roaring boys
To blunt old memorys hornet sting

217

Past is the scene of loves delights
Curst bitter dregs the sweet suceed
Gone is my honey mooning nights
How hard loves sweets shoud prove a deed

But parsons lessons fools decieve
Their pocket fees their preachings suit
Wi out we wed theyd makes believe
To taste of loves forbidden fruit
Good L---d I tremble at the crime
A sinfull sad unruly lout
I quake I quake at gossip time
Whose tongue blabs every secret out

ROSEY JANE

The eve put on her sweetest shroud
The summer dress shes often in
Freckt wi white & purple cloud
Dappld like a lepperd skin
The martin by the cotters shed
Had welcomd eve wi twittering song
The black bird sung the sun to bed
Old oxeys brierey dells among

218

When oer the field tript rosey Jane
Fair as the flowers she treadded on
But she were gloomy for her swain
Who long to fight the french had gone
She milkt & sung her mournful song
As how a absent maid did moan
Who for a soldier sorrowd long
That went & left her like her own

Tho dreadful drums had ceasd their noise
& peace proclaimd returning Joe
Delays so urging dampt her joys
& expectation nettld woe
Hope mixt wi fear & doubts the while
Lookt for his coming every hour
As one when spring begins to smile
Awaits the early opening flower

Wi doubtful eyes we view the bud
Tho sweet the sun smiles on it then
A blighting storm may tear the wood
& blast our promises agen
Wi soldiers dangers always near
Poor Jane had deepest cause to sigh
To day peace smiles wi little fear
The next war bursts & Joe may die

219

Each morn from window of her cot
Adown the road she straind her eye
Each eve she wanderd to the spot
Where Joe did bid his last ‘good bye’
Where love had breathd its last last vow
Where each their keep sake trifles gave
His provd love warmd her bosom now
‘—This will I carry to my grave’

So sed he looking on the box
Wi poesy on the lid bespread
So sed he while the curling locks
Her own hand severd from her head
While she wipd off the tear drops f[r]ee
Wi 'kerchief marked wi his name
& vowd his ribbon then shoud be
Her sunday head dress till he came

Thus Jenneys heart wer drowking sad
Her hopes & fears were then at strife
Fear false shoud prove her soldier lad
& home return wi foreign wife
Yet the last oath her lover taen
Woud hearten up her soul awhile
‘—Shoud war return me back to Jane
‘No maid on earth shall me beguile’

220

Thus Jane sat milking full o' thought
As doubtfull how the case might prove
‘—Luck comes unlookd for & unsought’
So gossips say of wealth & love
How true their wisdom turneth out
How oft fulfilld we little know
Janes proves it once wi out a doubt
What dames oft telld to sooth her woe

Old Joe the wood man wi his kid
Went home as trues the setting sun
& stan' & rest he often did
To talk wi Jane about his son
True to his sun-set-clock he kep'
His goody & his cot to find
& strange to say wi strouting step
To night a soldier skipt behind

His jacket shone so red so gay
His feather oer his cap did hing
& in the fine genteeley way
Hed learnd his ribbond cane to swing
Unusd to see the flashing sight
The startld thrush broke off her strain
& sheep forgot their grass to bite
& stard up at the passing swain

221

Janes skewing cow were struck wi fear
& kickt the bucket i the muck
Which made her shed another tear
To think shed nought but sorrows luck
But wood man Joe reversd the plan
& bawld ‘my wench neer mind yer fall
‘Dry up yer tears I bring the man
‘Shall hide yer loss & pay for all’

Ah sure enough twas him she wist
She 'memberd well the face o' Joe
& a'most swoonded while he kisst
So sudden pleasure banishd woe
‘My Jane’ Joe cried ‘thy tears dry up’
His heart wi love was beating warm
& wipt the empty bucket up
& led her homward on his arm

Old Joe stumpt hind em on the road
Light hearted from war breeding woes
& when the son begd take his load
He sed the sticks woud spoil his clo'hs
Sin he so happy went from toil
Twas many a long & weary day
& stumping on woud often smile
To think what dame at home woud say

222

The swain was busied all the way
To tell his Jane of all hed seen
& talk about the parting day
When last they met upon the green
& show the 'bacco box the while
& to the parting vow refer
& hint when abscent many a mile
How such things made him think of her

& still her lock of hair hed got
& near his heart the prize possest
But Jenneys wonder knew it not
Weavd in a broach upon his breast
His wisdom filld her wi supprise
Sin he had left his ploughs & carts
& thought then home bred louts how wise
The people were in foreign parts

Ere half way home Joe had her led
Wi eager speed each passing swain
The news around the village spread
‘Janes sweetheart Joes returnd again’
Old goody stopt her wheel & smild
& sought her cloak tween joy & pain
& took her stick to meet her child
She little hop'd to see again

223

Ah com'd & gone were many years
Sin Joe wi soldiers took his quart
& laught to scorn his mothers tears—
That thorny thought still prickt his heart
Poor tottering soul her head were grey
& grief & age had wrinkt her brow
So alterd sin his parting day
He hardly knew his mother now

But tear drops ready stood to start
At wispering natures warm command
‘O heres my mother’ leapt his heart
& instant graspt her trembling hand
Oer come wi joy ‘my boy’ she sed
& on his propping arm reclind
‘Death now may come wi out a dread
‘Ive found the all I wishd to find’

That night around the cottage hearth
Did meet the friends of maid & swain
& every heart was filld wi mirth
& blest I ween were Joe & Jane
Tho Joes old folks did lowly prove
& Janes coud boast cows ploughs & carts
They sed theyd neer controul her love
But wisht em joy wi all their hearts

224

Joe told the wonders that he knew
& all the dangers of the wars
& then to prove his storey true
Unbracd his coat to show his scars
The old folks saw & blest their child
Each drank to the intended bride
& brought her milk loss up & smild
& wisht no worse luck might betide

Next day was sunday folks believd
Theyd be axt church that very day
But Joe the gossips thoughts decievd
& brought it in a nearer way
He long ago did ring provide
& wealth in dangerous prizes taen
So he wi liscence bought his bride
& crownd the bliss of rosey Jane

TO ---

[My love thourt like yon morning bed]

My love thourt like yon morning bed
The hills above
In yonder east we see
Thy breasts so white thy cheeks so red
O sweet the morning wakes in thee
My witching love

225

My love thourt like the summers day
That wakes the dove
& smiles so sweet we see
Thy looks so smiling dress so gay
O sweet the summer shines in thee
My witching love

My love thourt like the even scene
As sweet to prove
O passing sweet to me
So meek so gentle in thy mien
O sweet the evening meets in thee
My witching love

SORROWS FOR A FAVOURITE TABBY CAT WHO LEFT THIS SCENE OF TROUBLES FRIDAY NIGHT NOV. 26 1819

Let brutish hearts as hard as stones
Mock the weak muses tender moans
As now she wails oer tittys bones
Wi anguish deep
Doubtless our parents dying groans
Theyd little weep

226

Ah pity thines a tender heart
Thy sigh soon heaves thy tears will start
& thou hast gen the muse her part
Salt tears to shed
To mourn & sigh wi sorrows smart
For pussey dead

Ah mourning memory neath thy pall
Thou utterst many a piercing call
Pickling in vinegars sour gall
Ways that are fled
The ways the feats the tricks & all
Of pussey dead

Thou tellst of all the gamsome plays
That markt her happy kitten days
—Ah I did love her funney ways
On the sand floor
But now sad sorrow dampts my lays
Pusseys no more

Thou paints her flirting round & round
As she was wont wi things shed found
Chasing the spider oer the ground
Straws pushing on
Thou paints em on a bosom wound
Poor pusseys gone

Ah mice rejoice yeve lost yr foe
Who watchd yr scheming robberies so
That while she livd twant yours to know
A crumb of bread
Tis yours to triumph mines the woe
Poor pusseys dead

227

While pussey livd yed empty maws
No sooner peept ye out your nose
But ye were instant in her claws
Wi squeakings dread
Yere now set free from tyrant laws
Poor pusseys dead

Left freely here to prowl at night
To wake me like some squeaking sprite
Theres nothing now but ye dare bite
Your terrors fled
Put up I mun wi all yer spite
Poor pusseys dead

But if ‘wide nicks’ ye mean to run
To scoop my barley crust i' fun
& drop yr tails ont when yeve done
Beware yr heads
Or yell find what yed wish to shun
Tho pusseys dead

As sures yer born wi' in yer clo'hs
If puss cant nab ye by the nose
Ill find a scheme yed ill suppose
To save my bread
Ye maynt too much infringe the laws
If pusseys dead

So dont ye drive yer jokes too far
Ye cubboard plunderers as ye are
For while Ive six pence left to spare
& traps are had
Ill make among ye dreadfull war
Tho pusseys dead—

228

& now poor puss thoust lost thy breath
& desent laid the moulds beneath
As ere a cat coud wish in death
For their last bed
This to thy memory I bequeath
Poor pussey dead

BALLAD

[Winter winds cold & blea]

Winter winds cold & blea
Chilly blows oer the lea
Wander not out to me
Jenny so fair
Wait in thy cottage free
I will be there

Wait in thy cushiond chair
Wi thy white bosom bare
Kisses are sweetest there
Leave it for me
F[r]ee from the chilly air
I will meet thee

229

How sweet can courting prove
How can I kiss my love
Muffld i' hat & glove
From the chill air
Quaking beneath the grove
What love is there

Lay by thy woolen vest
Rap no cloak oer thy breast
There my hand oft hath prest
Pin nothing there
There my head drops to rest
Leave its bed bare

Curl thy sweet auburn [h]air
Keep thy sweet bosom bare
Kisses are sweetest there
Love leave it free
Be the night foul or fair
Ill be wi thee

When thy friends go to sleep
Down from thy chamber creep
Fall the snow ere so deep
Chill be the air
Love will his promise keep
I will be there

When the latch gis a tink
Who it is ye may think
Wi no feard fancys shrink
Undo the door
Or at the window blink
Then yell be sure

230

Shut from the chilly air
To thee Ill hitch my chair
Snudgd on thy bosom bare
Lost in thy charms
O how Ill revel there
Rapt in thy arms

TO THE CLOUDS

O painted clouds sweet beauties of the skye
How have I viewd your motion & your rest
When like fleet hunters ye have left mine eye
In your thin gause of wooly fleecing drest
Or in your threatend thunders grim black vest
Like black deep waters slowly moving bye
Awfully striking the spectators breast
With your creators dread sublimity
As admiration mutley views your storms
& I do love to see you idly lye
Painted by heaven varied as your forms
Pausing upon the eastern mountain high

231

As morn awakes in springs wood harmony
& sweeter still when in your slumbers sooth
You hang the western arch oer days proud eye
Still as the even pool uncurvd & smooth
My gazing soul has lookd most placidly
& higher still devoutly wishd to strain
To wipe your shrouds & skyes blue blinders bye
Wi all the warmness of a moon struck brain
To catch a glimpse of him who bids you reign
& view the dwelling of all majesty

TO A BOWER

Three times sweet awthorn I have met thy bower
& thou hast gaind my love & I do feel
A aching pain to leave thee—every flower
Around thee opening sweeter charms reveal
& bind my fondness stronger—wild wood bower
In memorys kallender thourt treasurd up
& shoud we meet in some remoter hour
When all thy bloom to winter winds shall droop

232

Ah in lifes winter many a day to come
Shoud my grey wrinkles pass thy spot of ground
& find it bare—wi thee no longer crownd
Wi in the wood mans faggot torn from hence
Or chopt by hedgers up for yonder fence
Ah shoud I chance by thee as then to come
Ill look upon thy nakedness wi pain
& as I view thy desolated doom
In fancys eye Ill fetch thy shade again
& of this lovly day Ill think & sigh
& ponder oer this sweetly passing hour
& feel as then the throes of joys gone bye
When I was young & thou a blooming bower

AFTER HEARING A LADY SING ‘BANKS O' DOON’

Lady sweet thy melody
When the banks of doon was given
Angels lent a voice to thee
It gave a glimpse of heaven
If to heaven I cannot go
Hearing thees a heaven below
Lady sweet thy melody
Let the banks o doon be given

233

When this life & I resign
Let the banks o doon be given
Lady breath thy airs divine
Twill glad my steps to heaven
If to heaven I cannot go
Twill cheer me to the dread below
Lady breath thy air divine
Let banks o doon be given

THE LODGE HOUSE

A Gossips Tale

On a heath stood a farm house as lone as coud be
Let em look where they woud nothing else coud they see
But here an odd furze bush & there an odd tree
Green corn field & fallow land brown
More lonsomly too in a hollow it lay
The hermit like tennants no neighbours had they
To pop in & chat a few hours of the day
Twas two mile or more from a town

The farmer was wealthy as many coud tell
He managd wi care & he ploughd his land well

234

& card not for living in such a lone cell
If he coud get crops to his will
Of servants for labour he kept a good clan
Stiff chaps five or six & a sturdy head man
A house keeping maid & a under wench nan
Who had in a dairy good skill

Who lives at a lodge but gen dangers prepard
So wealthy & lonly he kept a good guard
& four mettle bull dogs turnd loose in his yard
& guns ready chargd for alarms
Twas nothing unlikley for rogues coming here
So noted for hurded up wealth as he were
Tho towns round about him for miles far & neer
Had heard of his dogs & his arms

Tho nothing to scare em as yet hadnt been
Of any one tempting down right to get in
But folks lunging round it at night time was seen
Which left em suspisions of fear
& maids often sed when the rest were gone church
That shagger-down fellows theyve seen on the lurch
That tryd at the front door & then at the porch
& begd in excuse bread or beer

—O dear what sensations from solitude rise
What trifles she loves that a town woud despise

235

Een the squeakings of mice now the maidens woud prize
& thus when alone theyd sit down
& listen the chirp of the sparrows to hear
& think em then songs of the linnet more dear
& all those fine singers in solitude drear
As they put em in mind of a town

One day as it rather gets dusk at the hour
When the winters days done all it can about four
The thresher gave in & had cleand up his floor
& took out the straw to the stock
When three lusty fellows peept into his barn
& the right road for somwhere requested to learn
Tho drest like three clowns twas a blackis[h] conscern
& the thresher was struck like a rock

They gun force discourse bout the master & men
What servants & dogs hed in keeping & then
Theyd squint i the yard & gin talking agen
Poor michael he quakd like a leaf
He answerd their questions wi hah & wi no
But hinted on dogs & the guns for a show
For he had the deepness about him to know
That such like woud frighten a thief

236

They then lungd away wi out bidding good night
Such tokens confirmd that his notions was right
Pleasd enough too were he to get out of their sight
& instantly shut up his barn
& went to the servants & told 'em his doubt
Who cast their opinions & then gave it out
That men at that hour for no good came about
Twas surely a hidden conscern

Be't een as it woud they got ready for work
To guard agen danger if peace shoud be broke
They hunted up cutting knife cudgel & fork
& drove all the dogs in the house
Thus armd they were fixt let it be as it might
& doors they lockd up hard the windows shuts tight
Each waited ast were upon thorns all the night
& listnd as still as a mouse

Besure now & then mutterd hints went about
& fis'es were shook to note somthing without
Some fancyd a whistle some heard a shill shout
& some heard their steps in the yard
Poor hog serving hodge frit to dead as it where
A'most dreaded the supper job going to draw beer
& dursnt go down i' the cellar for fear
[OMITTED]

237

The wind whistld hollow the weather was foul
Round the jambs of the cottage the tempest did howl
The dog rather restless gun grumble & growl
& wagged their tails at the door
The candle curld winding sheets dismal to view
& tokening danger the fire burned blue
& plump to the maidens the coffin sparks flew
Which made em neer sink on the floor

Footsteps pass the window! the bull dogs all bark
Theres one shouts for cudgel & one for a fork
& he take the gun who can best hit the mark
& thus they are fixt for alarm
Som'at sorrowfull calls & the door gis a tap
Twas a voice like a womans—agen a small rap
Poor hodge he woud have it twas nought but a trap
Tho the voice sed it meant em no harm

‘Who ever ye be’ said the master ‘begone’
Some bawld for the gun to let know they had one
& some tapt the bull dogs to harden em on
& bragd of their savagness too

238

The door haunter woudnt wi little be scar'd
But still to come in begged terrible hard
It told em theyd little need keeping a guard
Twas small harm a woman coud do

‘The storm gatherd deep & my road got unseen
‘Lost on the dark heath for an hour have I been
‘My limbs are most stiffnd it freezes so keen
‘Id be thankful to lye in yer barn’
The master was tender it melted his breast
Who coudnt but pity a woman distrest
He instant called counsil to give her some rest
Lord knows twas a shocking conscern

But hodge still presisted she meant em no good
The maidens both backd him ‘keep safe while they coud’
& vowd were they them let her wowl as she woud
She neer shoud set foot i the lodge
‘Most votes the day carried’ wi caution & guard
A tall woman enterd the house the boy stard
The stranger een smiled to see him so scard
& hard ran the jest upon hodge

239

Still he eyed her all over from top to the toe
& jogd wi his elbow the maids to let know
That her voice were to[o] gruff—women never talkd so
Let the others consiet as they might
Quere fancys he coudnt get out of his head
As in crossing the house she seemd heavy to tread
'Sides her foot looked large—well he might go to bed
But hed neer shut his eyes for the night

They questiond the stranger she answerd em well
Where bin & where going far as questions compell
But whod any sense in his head coud soon tell
She were little to talking inclind
She woudnt go bed & good reasons were shown
Her fatherless childern all sleeping alone
She 'tended to start soon as first cock had crown
For she coudnt be easy in mind

The head man knew well bout the place whence she came
& knew too as well there was none of her name
Had hodge or the maidens bin up to the same
Theyd blobbd out the matter of course

240

He answerd her nothing but kept up his eye
& found hidden mistery lapt up in the lye
& wisperd his master the hint by & bye
Who resolvd to scheme matters no worse

Bed time cometh on man & master sit up
The womans but vainly intreeted to sup
Poor hodge spite o fear begun drowsy & droop
& she beggd theyd all go to their beds
For her part she wisht cause no trouble at all
The things that she begd of their kindness was small
& if she got worser she easy coud call
—Excuse freshend doubts in their heads

So now left on garrison master & will
The woman they thought got uneasier still
But she said twas the thoughts of her babes made her ill
As the youngest of four suckt her breast
What leave sucking infants!—the clock tung eleven
She wisht that the capons first signal was given
The master & man wisht em sens was in heaven
New lies added dangers exprest

241

She dozd now & then on her chair she woud lye
& they found like the cat she coud doze wi one eye
Nigh as fourpence a groat is the watches coud spy
The plot were a roguish conscern
& they wisperd of fire arms in each others ear
But wisperd as loud as the stranger shoud hear
& talkd of their guns as a store house it where
As she all her perrils might learn

Then to see what she woud do they made a mock sleep
Dogs close to their master did watchfully keep
The woman play[d] chances & off did she creep
As soft as she coud to the door
The way that she went'd made any one dread
She seemd as she wisht to have lightnd her tread
As one strimes & steps where sick folks lye a bed
Her feet scarcly prest on the floor

Doubts now were all cleard—out of doors she had got
A shrill whistle blew—& the master he shot
& will like an arrow brusht up to the spot
& agen turnd the key on their guest

242

‘All keep out as is out’ in triumph sed will
A groan murmurd help a weak call faint & chill
Foot steps trampld gently—agen all were still
Save the dogs who woud not be at rest

The rout soon disturbd all the lodge of its rest
The wenches for saftey rund nearly undrest
& hodge sorely frightend wi what he had guest
Bawld out to know what were amiss
& soon as he heard twas his prophesied trick
& the theif were lockt out—then he took up his stick
& bragd wi the best hadnt skulls a bin thick
They might a seen easy in this

The master calld silence to listen if aught
Still tokend near danger but they coud hear nought
Save hodge who heard groans now & then as he thought
& his stick was prepard in his fist
Some proposd take the gun & go see if they coud
Execution if twas done or not be as twoud
But as now matters stood—hodge he votes for some good
& they from his caution desist

243

First cock shouted morning aloud from his shed
& minded em all what the stranger had sed
& they deemd it rare luck as they didnt go bed
To leave the guisd rogue to her sen
The maids offerd prayers for thus being preservd
The master reflected how theyd a been servd
& hodge in a moment most dryly observd
Theyd none a seen daylight agen

& oft they calld silence now & then the dogs growl
But nothing was heard save the woop of an owl
& winds in the chimney—the weather was foul
That mournfully wisperd alarm
Hodge coudnt help hearing a whistle & groan
But night & its terrors thank god they were flown
The morning thro cracks of the window shuts shown
& light woud soon free em of harm

The scales now was turnd & in triumph hodge sed
What scores of opinions he had in his head
Which fearing theyd laugh at him worse then they had
He kept em all in to his sen

244

He knew very well that her bosom was flat
Coud mark on her chin hairs as black as his hat
Saw her pull down her bonnet to hide it & that
& scarce coud help hinting agen

The woman too slung herself back in her chair
& hodge sed he vain gogged will to look there
Blue stockings she wore as to that he woud sware
Which he neer saw on woman before
& once in her rocking she tosst up her feet
He thought he saw breeches but kept it discreet
& thought as none else saw—his fears might consiet
So he woudnt pretend to no more

Hodge sed he thought much what he dare not express
Twas a good for nought rogue in disguisd womans dress
His wit pleasd the master who coudnt say less
Then a worthy reward he shoud have

245

& all bragd of courage what each woud have done
How that woud a servd em how this wi his gun
Woud a rallied down two at a level like fun
As all out of danger are brave

When darkness grew thin & the twilighty red
Like beauty thro veils began dimly to spread
They took up their weapons the stoutest hearts led
& venturd to see what they coud
The door soon as opend the dogs rushed out
& tracked the causway & snufted about
& soon was the masters shot provd wi out doubt
The dogs lap'd a puddle of blood

Good god they was sorry & felt for her pain
The groans which they heard this did quickly explain
& they called the dogs up to track her again
To be sure shed lye dead further on
They searched the yard under cribs did they peep
& rooted the straw where it seemd in a heap
As to dye out of sight any where she woud creep
But the wounded encroacher was gone

246

Holes & corners they hunted for hours round & round
But nothing of rogues dead or living was found
Tho sure enough some one had got a deep wound
& the living helpd off wi the lame
The morn past opinions but nothing was heard
All day the[y] expected but nothing appeard
Hodge went to the village conjectures he heard
But nothing for truth never came

This friend & that wi opinions ran oer
Wi tidings of this that & tother hurt sore
They knew they was hurt but they knew nothing more
Suspicion might think as she woud
The farmer such stories did little regard
But trebld the strength of his guns & his yard
& thought to be stronger gen dangers prepard
Were the only best means for his good

247

& he thankd all his men for the courage theyd shewn
& he gen em that day from their labour a boon
& in reason what ale they likd drink morn & noon
Keeping guard for the nighttime in view
As to hodge for his service—the master declard
He merited honour as well as reward
& he placd him from thence the head boy in his yard
& a bran spanking whip gave him too

& still he continued to live at the lodge
& if by a woman rogue playd such a dodge
He vowd to remember the caution of hodge
& think em to trapping inclind
& when a chap lay awaken in bed
& heard the first crow of the cock from his shed
He thought what the woman drest robber had sed
& brought it all fresh in his mind

248

BALLAD

[Streamlet thou hast known my love]

Streamlet thou hast known my love
Guggling brook & thou canst tell
How beneath the willow grove
Ive met wi her I love so well
Streamlet as thy waters flutter
Oer the stones wi murmring noise
Coudst thou sound what love did utter
Thou woudst sound a world of joys

Babbling brook but hold thy tongue
Why to wandering clowns reveal
Secrets that to love belong
Love which they can never feel
Babbling streamlet be thou hush
Was the maid to hear thee noise
Where I kissd thoud raise a blush
Murmur not departed joys

When I claspt her slender waist
Streamlet thou has known it well
When I kisst her snowy breast
Streamlet thou coudst often tell

249

While the moon that mockt embraces
On the stream woud bliss anoy
Thou hast seen her blushing graces
Wisper not departed joy

Streamlet let not love reprove thee
Be his friend & keep discreet
'Nough thoust provd for me to love thee
Praise is thine when ere we meet
Streamlet wind thy wandering way
Woudst thou keep thy guggling noise
Murmur to the linnets lay
Mention not departed joys

LOVE

Loves a flower of tempting blow
Bliss wi in its leaves is born
But jealousy contrives to sow
Round it many a paining thorn
Loves a paining pleasing thing
I cannot help but own it
Like bees its honey wears a sting
I wish I neer had known it

250

LANGLEY BUSH

O Langley bush the shepherds sacred shade
Thy hollow trunk oft gaind a look from me
Full many a journey oer the heath Ive made
For such like curious things I love to see
What truth the story of the swain alows
That tells of honours which thy young days knew
Of ‘langley court’ being kept beneath thy boughs
I cannot tell—thus much I know is true
That thou art reverencd even the rude clan
Of lawless gipseys drove from stage to stage
Pilfering the hedges of the husband man
Leave thee as sacred in thy withering age
Both swains & gipseys seem to love thy name
Thy spots a favourite wi the smutty crew
& soon thou must depend on gipsey fame
Thy mulldering trunk is nearly rotten thro
My last doubts murmuring on the zephers swell
My last looks linger on thy boughs wi pain
To thy declining age I bid farwell
Like old companions neer to meet again

251

AFTER READING A FLATTERING PRAISE ON THE GRAVE STONE OF AN OLD TRANSGRESSOR

‘A foolish trifle often makes a cure’
So says the proverb so this stone declares
Foolish enough if wick[ed]ness is pure
By filling dead mens mouths wi scraps of prayers

When thieves are tryd—the lawers have a knack
To plead em innoscent—no doubt this clay
Tends tugging this stone counsellor on his back
To act as pleader at the judgment day

WOMAN

O woman lovly woman—majic flower
What loves what pleasures in thy graces meet
Thou blushing blossom dropt from edens bower
Thou fair exotic delicatly sweet

252

Thy tender beauty mercey wrung from heaven
A drop of honey in a world of woe
From wisdoms pitying hand thy sweets was given
That man a glimpse of happiness might know
—If destitute of woman what were life
Coud wealth & wine thy lovliness bestow
& give the bliss that centers in a wife
That makes one loath to leave this heaven below
Pains they might sooth & cares forget awhile
But soon the soul woud sigh again for witching womans smile

TO A DEAD TREE

Old tree thou art witherd—last year I did pass
The black bird snug hid in thy branches did sing
Thy shadow stretcht dark oer the green sprouting grass
& thou wert as green as thy mates of the spring
How alterd sin then not a leaf hast thou got
Thy honours brown round thee that cloathed the tree
The clown passeth by thee & heedeth it not
But thourt a warm source of reflection for me

253

I think while I view thee & rest on the stile
Lifes blossoms as frail as the leaves thou hast shed
Like thee I may boast of my honours awhile
But new springs may blossom & mine may be fled
Fond friends may bend oer the raisd turf where Im laid
& warm recollection the past may look oer
& say by my life as I say by thy shade
‘Last spring he were living & now hes no more’

ON SEEING A PICTURE OF SACRED CONTEMPLATION

Serene she looks she wears an angels form
Her arching eyes are fixt upon the skye
Gloomy yet glistning tween black curls wipd bye
Like a bright rain bow painted on the storm
Her blue veind breasts religions comforts warm
The bible opend on her lap doth lye
What mixing beautys in her face apear
Charms more then mortal lighten up her smiles
Strong faith & hope doth seem her soul to cheer
& resignation makes her smiles more dear
No earthly thoughts her purity defiles
As vapouring clouds by summers suns are driven
Sins temptings from the scriptures charm recoils
& all her soul transported seems in heaven

254

EVENING BELLS

Sweet the merry bells ring round
On even zephers dying swells
The sweetest chord the harp can sound
Sounds not so sweet as evening bells
O merry chiming bells

Swinging falls & melting rise
On viewless echo how it swells
Tis but the music of the skies
Can breath so sweet as evening bells
O merry chiming bells

Faint & fainter how they fall
Humming thro the lonly dells
No sounds to charm this earthly ball
Can charm so sweet as evening bells
O merry chiming bells

Zephers breathing once again
Once again the zephers swells
Still I lye upon the plain
Entrancd to hear the evening bells
O merry chiming bells

255

While the runnel curdles clear
Once again the zepher swells
Sweeter still the strains appear
O evening bells o evening bells
How sweet is evening bells

TO POESY

O sweetly wild & witching poesy
Thou light of this worlds hermitage I prove thee
& surely none helps loving thee that knows thee
A soul of feeling cannot help but love thee
I woud say how thy secret magic moves me
Thou spell of lovliness—but its too much
Had I the language of the gods above me
I might then venture thy wild harp to touch

256

& sing of all thy thrilling pains & pleasures
The flowers I meet in this worlds wilderness
The comforts rising from thy spell bound treasures
Thy cordial balm that softens my distress
I woud say all but thou art far above me
Words are too weak expression cant be had
I can but say I love & dearly love thee
& that thou cheers me when my soul is sad

ROBS TERRORS OF NIGHT OR COURTING ON ASS BACK (a)

A Gossips Story

What time the woodlands hides the sun
& nathans dirty works near done
When cows are drovd to milking up
& hogs are calld on swill to sup
& nogs of hay on ploughmens backs
Tempt horses to their nightly racks
& beast which nought but want can draw
Lunge brousing round their cribs of straw
What time gen out the threshing clown
Wi in his corner drops him down
& sups him oer his porridge free
& gossips chattering oer their tea

257

Town news—& tales which night inspires
Of waking ghosts & burnt arse fires
Till each her neighbour dismal scares
& alls fit swooning in their chairs
When brats the while a listning near
Will even piss their breeks wi fear
Each cringing round as stills a mouse
When cats threat breaking in his house
How ere descriptive things to leave
& plainly tell the fact twas eve
At autumn time years cag mag end
Grown bad & got too old to mend
When every slough its flood brims oer
& cloudy skys hang threatning more
When cart ruts brag their hasty tide
Loud wimpering by the causey side
& foams & blurs wis much ado
As floods that wimple summer thro
Now for the subject of the tale
A humble ploughman in the dale
Rob was his name & this the night
Hed pland to see his hearts delight
A milk wench she wi blood red face
& big round bosom full of grace
(In robins eye) her cheeks & that
Not beautys marks were dimpt wi fat
& shed good legs & large red arms
& all that ploughmen reckon charms
& her was rob so fully bent on
He even lovd the ground she went on
Tho distant from him many a furlong
& floods between were dangers hurling

258

But fire or flood made little matter
True love will hazard fire & water
Tho dandld up a cads wi's granny
Whose storeys made him a'most scranny
Dreading the terrors night unravels
As bads a cath'lic dreads the devils
'Leaving the horrors of her lectures
As trues a christian does the scriptures
Who preacht him sermons upon witches
How theyd ride out a nights on switches
O whychen wood & willow wicks
On brushes & on beesome sticks
How theyd transform to L---d knows what
T[o] crowing hen or spit fire cat
& scare night trampers most to death
In lonsome ways of wood & heath
Bobbing from bushes unawares
& crossing lanes in form of hares
But spite of all fates will be done
His love still burning urgd him on
What ere befell or good or harm
Hed promisd & he must perform
So ‘ned’ he mounts & made a starting
No soul coud dot a foot twas certain
He switchd his stick & left his cot
Tho friends contrary 'visd him not
& a'ter wards he often wisht it
Hed taen their cautions & desisted

259

Repent he did he ever went it
L---d knows he[d] reason to repent it
But keeping pace wi rob & neddy
Theyd now lost sight of town already
Plodding dark lanes & lonley ridings
Where rob oft heard heart aching tidings
The spots his granny usd to talk on
Witches being seen & spirits walking
Bringing this story up & that up
Tills very hair e'en bore his hat up
Journying on he might repent
But love burnt still & on he went
Some time thro foresteads belly deep
Then a'most mird thro sloughs they creep
While rob oft stands in need to borrow
Old balams stick to thresh him thorow
Far distant lay the destind place
& wonderous slow was neddys pace
Night soon oer took em—darkness spread
As blacks the hat upon his head
Oer stones unseen they often stumbld
Rob threst 'agen & sorely grumbld
Tho sticks but ill his pace did suit
Wi out a spur upon his foot
Robin got a'most off his wits
& swore & thresht the ass by fits
& thought as night hid tree & hill
The beasts slow pace got slower still
The winds their wispering terrors blowd
The quaking trees flapt oer the road
& hanging brambles oft woud pat
Their scrambling tendrils on his hat

260

His heart the while as tho it where
Sunk even in his shoes wi fear
The moon by times thro clouds woud glisten
& he woud snatch a look & listen
Still keeping on his dreadful rout
An open eye for looking out
To scape a sudden sly attack
Hed now squint fore then hind his back
Still uppermost as like a spell
The things his granny usd to tell
Tho hed a feign his tales forgot
When ere a passd a haunted spot
& goodly things woud think & say
To put the evil ones away
But spite of prayers—prayers coudnt stop
Like fishers floats they float a top
Nor coud he for his soul the night
Help bringing witches in his sight
Painted on fancys moulding eye
On brush or beesom riding bye
A wild heath now they trampld oer
& slower seemly crept & slower
Most dreadful scene the clock went one
& went again he counted on
Snail creeping brute twas much as ten
Poor neddys hide went tot agen
The 'pointed time was over shot
& long way still from meggys cot
The wearied maid woud bolt the door
Nor wait him nor expect him more
& what was worse as absence breeds
Quere jealousys in wenches heads

261

She might go think till more she heard
Some wench before her was preferd
& her till now he did but flatter
So turn him off to mend the matter
As wells his way too loose his lass
& all ont thro the creeping ass
Thus many a thought disturbd his brain
& poor old ned was lumpt again
—& now begins the tale its terrors
Its substance subject & its horrors
Rob scarce had gen the ass his dressing
& more by word o' mouth expressing
If he pleasd not to shamble faster
When lo up starts the black dissaster
Som'at rusht out wi hellish bustle
& crossd the dark road rustle rustle
As matted grass & leaves & stuff
Wir wisking in a windy puff
The fernal rout it made bespoke
Twas plain enough the devils work
No wonder at it donk took fright
& tho rob hung wi all his might
To save him sen from tumbling down
Twas all no use bump fell the clown
Ah-lack-a days-ont whats the use
When foxes come the hissing goose
Their gabbling bids as much defiance
As kidlings bleetings do wi lions
The like was robins every wit
When fiends unassd him trying to sit
The moon tween clouds just then did wink
& rob got on the thing a blink

262

But what or in what form exact
He coudnt gi as plainly fact
But good betide him sure enough
Hells nearness gave infernal proof
He saw too plain—woe to his breeches
Twas on[e] o grans night walking witches
Ye may ha seen old women swoon
When night rogues prowl the streets for fun
Wi turnip lanthern scoopt & cut
In shape of human face or brute
Wi grinning chops woud make one quake
An uglier grin deaths foild to make
Ye may ha heard her piteous case
Just as they popt it in her face
Her wail of woe her mercy shout
From fancyd hell to help her out
Ye may ha heard all this but then
Twant like the shouts which robin gen
Her case wi his compard forsooth
Are flee bites to a serpents tooth
Twas small use in his piteous plight
To shout for help on heaths at night
To make the worst ont weep & wail
& call when none coud hear his tale
Besure he shouted loud & shouted
As if all nights hell brood were routed
But a'ter donkey twas he sallied
& threats on threatnings stoutly rallied
As how hed wack him coud he find him
& all the while but done to mind 'em
The wizzend rogues & wrinkled bitches
His valour didnt care for witches

263

To make em 'lieve his stick was ready
To serve 'em as he threatnd neddy
To show what courage were his guard
& scare if witches coud be scard
When the same time the tottering clown
A very straw'd a knockd him down
As Ive oft markt the youngster wight
To keep his courage up at night
Woud mock the owls & creep along
& tutle oer the night birds song
& all the while he woops & whistles
His fears een swoon at quaking thistles
So twas wi rob his brags & boasting
As while neds ribs he threats a roasting
His very heart blood twitter twatter
Curdld as cold as fountain water
He thought his prayers but durst not say em
For fear his weakness might betray him
As fiends to hear him help appeal
Woud know wi whom they had to deal
While him to whom the prayers preferd
As plains a shout a wisper heard
His quaking hopes vowd twere his lot
To see once more his native cot
Woud good beings give him leave once more
To lift the latch o's grannys door
Never while hed a single peg
(That is he meant while hed a leg)
Neds back no more woud he get on
For all his eyes ere lookd upon

264

Nor be so longs his name was rob
Took in wi such another job
No was the roads a*se deep in sludge
Then mount such brutes hed sooner trudge
But as his reason gaind agen
& he as't were got more his sen
So's near to over set the fright
He gun to plan as wells he might
Some sort a guard for time to come
A thought that instant struck him home
For trying on[e] o's grannys spells
That spite of witch or ghost repells
He heard her score times testify it
Who warnd him late to sure & try it
That is wi open knife to point
Ye then may walk as safes a saint
So gran had sed—& instant rob
Pulls out his dagger from his fob
& went wi't open in his clutch
To see if now they dare him touch
& even in his saftey joyd
To think that hell was thus defyd
While muck & sludge his clohs bedapples
While lost his ass & lost his apples
For he upon the donkeys pad
A wallet full of apples had
A present for the maid to boot
To show his love & urge his suit
But all was lost he mutterd sore
& curst the donkey oer & oer
& even meg so vext he wer
Hed ha[r]d work keep from busing her

265

So now unassd thro swamps & sloughs
He trys agen for maggys house
But as a blind man stumps along
Twas all by guess work right or wrong
& being so startled wis affright
Wi fancys terrors still in sight
He card not much weres journey led him
If aught was found to hide his head in
Far from the lone heaths dark domains
The scarce seen tracks & narrow lanes
Crossing deep pits oer slippery planks
Where jenny burnt arse plays her pranks
Dangerd as trampers creep & creep
By then being tumbld i' the deep
As oft death bells at morn doth sound
Sad tidings who at night were drownd
Ah coud he drop but safley down
Or near a house or in a town
Or barn straw bed or stable manger
He card not where if out of danger
But no such joys as yet succeed
He went as providence decreed
Oer green sward close & mauling fields
Still fanc[y]ing witches at his heels
That made him terrible of course
Tho they coud foul his breeks no worse
Nor fall upon him unprepard
As still his opd knife kept his guard
But they coud fright him wi their terrors
& seize him gen wi russ'ling horrors

266

From hedgerow bush or dyke to skout
Or holes of tunnels bobble out
How ere to make the tale conclude
As happy as a story shoud
Suffice it a'ter many a trouble
Which night sowd in his journey double
He found tos joy his fears was oer
& dropt at last on maggys door
Who luck'ly list'ning on the watch
As soons his thumb tinkt up the latch
Appeard wi sweetest smiles agen
Sure antidote for all his pain
& welcomd in her wandering love
As at the even does the dove
Wi cooing fuss & billing kiss
Rob hitchd his chair up near his bliss
& hugd & blesst the charming cre'ture
No soul coud wish to do no better
She told him all the fear & dread
As while she waited filld her head
The night so dark the floods being out
& he so late it made her doubt
While oer her cot an owlet flew
& screamd a death note often true
‘Besure’ say[s] she ‘it frit one so
‘I scarce knew where or how to go
‘I turnd as cold as ice wi fear
‘& scarce kept tumbling out my chair’
—Ah there! thought rob depend upon it
Sures mines a hat & her'ns a bonnet

267

That very owl that here did hoot
Was safe enough a fernal brute
& one of these wi out a doubt
That put my donk & me to rout
Then he slung back agen the wall
& strokd his chin & telld her all
Till twilights eye of rosey light
Had lookd away the fears of night
& the sweet smiles of morns red sun
Made every evil thing to run
Following fast as night hell leads
To hide & act fresh evil deeds
Rob leaving free his home to find
Wi out one dread upon his mind
& now all this is come to pass
Theres [s]ome may hint—& wheres the ass
To ned besure small harm befell
He lit ons legs for doing well
If donk had felt a present dread
Fancy neer kept it in his head
He rambld over hedge & ditch
Wi small conscern bout rob or witch
& hit at last a lucky track
That led him to a clover stack
Where soundly he blowd out his hide
Wi night & darkness on his side
& then as dainteer stomach led
Pickt & pickt the sweetest head
The clover bottles honied flower
He never met a sweeter hour

268

Set free from robins sticks & strife
He neer felt happier in his life
& as he knew no better doing
He little felt inclind for going
But stopt till cursed cocks had shouted
& scores of foes to donkeys routed
Shepherds & ploughmen all unhousd
& pindard plunderers early rousd
Like lawer skouts their prey pursuing
That luckless catchd him tresspas doing
& drove him from his plenty found
A thief as law directs to pound
To stand till he was ownd again
—& here ned saw but little pain
Tho he had neer a stack to pull
He wanted none his guts was full
& while theyre thus donks sees no sorrow
Their thoughts neer reach so highs tomorrow
Thus ends the tale the wondrous travels
Of rob thro midnights brooded devils
& while it caution gis the swain
Never to tempt the like again
Let other chaps consider well
Who hear the tale the tricks of hell
& when theyve courting in their heads
Never to trust their lives wi neds
But al'ays when theyd see their lasses
Tramp it on foot wi out their asses

269

THE LOVERS JOURNEY (b)

A Hint Taken from the Simply Simple Tales of the Illustrious Bard. G.C.—L.L.D.

Twas late at een when rob got ready
Mounted on visious kicking neddy
To gang a courting—not as clowns
Go now adays in country towns
Besprucst i' boots & beaver hat
Fine lap*ell'd coat—watch chain & that
Struting wi milking maids about
Like farmers gentry more then louts
—But to our tale—twas robins plan
To show a plain industrious man
Who by the way bemounted ned
To prove no pride was in his head
To let the maiden know ye mind
His taste to thriftfulness inclind
But this is usless running oer
The lass had known him long before
The ass crept on beneath its load
Mucky & splashing was the road
Slow was his pace—hed somtimes stumble
When rob woud switch his stick & grumble
Tho sticks but ill his use did suit
Wi out a spur upon his foot
The way was long they had to go
The night came oer as blacks a crow
Robin wi fear got a'most scranny
Brought ye mind a cade wi's granny

270

He feard the terrors night unravels
As bads a catholic fears the devil
& 'leavd the horrors of her lectures
As true's a christian does the scriptures
She preach'd him sermons upo' witches
How they woud ride a nights on switches
Of wychen-wood or willow-wicks
On brushes or on beesom sticks
How they'd transform the L---d knows what
To crowing hen or spitfire cat
Or scare night trampers 'most to death
In lonsome ways of wood or heath
Bobbing 'fore em unawares
Crossing lanes in form of hares
Thus much wi' grannys tales degrest
We'll follow rob—& she may rest
Who now was a'most off his wits
& swore & beat the ass by fits
& thought as night hid every hill
The beasts slow pace got slower still
The winds their wispering terrors blow'd
The shaking boughs bowd oer the road
& hanging brambles oft woud pat
Their scrambling tendrils on his hat
His heart the while as tho it where
Sunk even in his shoes wi fear
The moon by time thro clouds woud glisten
& he woud fetch a look & listen
Keeping on his dreadful rout
An open eye for looking out
To scape a sudden sly attack
He'd now squint 'fore then hind his back
Still upper most as like a spell
Each tale his granney us'd to tell
Tho' he'd a feign such tales forgot
When ere he passd a haunted spot
& godly things he'd think & say
To put the evil ones away

271

But spite of prayers—prayers coudnt stop
Like fishers floats they float at top
Still trembling shivering uper most
Granny witch-tale & dreaded gost
A moving bough a sprite he'd fear
& like hogs bristles as it where
His lank hair bolted from his head
& bore his hat up een wi dread
A wild heath now the ass crept oer
& slower seemly crept & slower
Most dreadful scene—the clock went one
& went again—he counted on
Snail creeping brute—twas much as ten
Poor donkeys hide is thrasht agen
The 'pointed time was over shot
& long way still from meggys cot
The wearied maid woud bolt the door
Nor want him nor expect him more
& whats more worse as abscence breeds
Mad jealousies in wenches heads
She might go think as nought she heard
Some wench before her was prefer'd
& her till now he did but flatter
To turn him off to mend the matter
As wells his way too loose his lass
& thro the d---d creeping ass
Thus thoughts like these disturbd the swain
& ‘Come up ned’ was lumpt again
—& now begins the tale its terrors
The substance, subject, painted horrors
The poor old visions scarcly beaten
& more by word of mouth sore threaten'd
If di'n't please to shamble faster
When lo! the horrid black disaster
Something rusht out wi hellish bustle
& crost the dark road rustle rustle
The 'fernal rout it made bespoke
Twas plain enuff the devils work

272

No wonder at it donk took fright
& tho rob clung wi all his might
To save him sen from tumbling down
But alls no use—bump fell the clown
A-lack-a-day's-ont what's the use
When foxs wellcome hissing goose
Her gabbling bid as much deffiance
As kidlings bleatings do to lions
The like was robins every wit
When fiends unass'd him trying to sit
The moon tween clouds just then did wink
& rob got of the gost a blink
But what or in what form exact
He coudnt say as plainly fact
But good protect him sure enough
Hells nearness gav' infernal proof
He see too plain—woe to his breeches
Twas one of Grans night walking witches

Ye may ha' seen old women swoon
When night rogues prowl the streets for fun
Wi' turnip lanthern scoopt & cut
In shape of human face or brute
Wi grinning chops woud make one quake
(An uglier grin death coudnt make)
Ye may ha' heard her piteous case
Just as they popt it in her face
Her wail of woe her mercy shout
From fancyd hell to help her out
Ye may ha' heard all but then
Twant like the shouts which robin gen
Twas small use in his piteous plight
To shout for help on heaths at night
To mak' the worst ont weep & wail
& call where none coud hear his tale
Be sure he shouted loud & shouted
(As if all earths hell-brood was routed)

273

But a'ter donkey twas he sallied
& threats an threatnings stoutly rallied
As how he'd wack him—cou'd he find him
& all the while but done to mind 'em
The 'grizly revelling ‘midnight bitches’
His valour did not care for witches
To mak' em 'lieve his stick was ready
To serve 'em as he threatnd neddy
To show what courage he'd to guard
& scare—if witches coud be scar'd
When the same time—the tottering clown
A very straw'd a knockt him down

As like the boy the poet sees
‘When glimpse of moon light checks the trees’
Frit as the owlets woop & woop
‘Wistles to bear his courage up’
& the same time his courage wistles
His fears een swoon at quaking thistles

So twas wi rob his brags & boasting
As while neds ribs he threats a roasting
His very heart blood twitter twatter
Curdl'd as cold as fountain water
He thought his prayers but dar' not say 'em
For fear the weakness might betray him
Soon fiends to hear him help apeal
Woud know wi whome they had to deal
While him to whom the prayers preferd
As plains a shout a wisper heard
His quaking hopes vowd twas his lot
To see once more his granneys cot
Woud good beings gi him leave once more
To lift the latch but off her door
Never while hed a single peg
(That is he meant while hed a leg)

274

Neds back no more woud he get on
For all his eyes ere lookt upon
No was roads een a*se deep in sludge
Then mount such brutes his stumps shud trudge
But as his reason gaind agen
& he ast where got more his sen
As nearly over set the fright
He gan to plan as wells he might
Some sort of guard for things to come
A thought that instant struck him home
For trying one o's grannys spells
That spite of witch & gost repells
Whos heard her 'score times testify it
& warnd him late to 'sure & try it
That is wi open knife to point
Ye then may walk as safe's a saint
So gran had said—& instant rob
Pulld out his dagger from his fob
& went wi't open in his clutch
To see if how they dare him touch
& ever on his rambles joyd
To think that all wer' thus defy'd
While muck & sludge his clo'hs bedapples
Will lost his ass & lost his apples
For he upon the donkeys pad
A wallet full of apples had
A present for the maid to boot
To show his love & urge his suit
But all was lost he murnd it sore
& Curst the donkey oer & oer
& even Meg so vext he wer
He'd hard work keep from busing her
So now unassd thro swamps & sloughs
He tries agen for maggys house
But as a blind man roves along
Twas all by guess work right or wrong

275

Tho being so scard wi's first affright
Wi fancys gohsts the while in sight
He car'd not much wheres Journey led him
If aught was found to hide his head in
Far from the lone heaths dark domains
Its narrow unfrequented lanes
Crossing deep pits oer slippy planks
Where gosts & witches play their pranks
Dangerd as travellers creep & creep
By them being tumble i' the deep
As oft dead bells at morn doth sound
Sad tidings who at night was drownd
------
He wisht to drop him savly down
Or near a house or in a town
Or barn or stable free from danger
He card not sleeping in a manger
Tho no such joys as yet suceed
He went as providence decreed
Oer paded close & mauling fields
Still fancying gost's'es at his heels
That made him quake agen of course
Tho they coud foul his breeks no worse
Nor fall upon him unprepard
As still his opt knife kept his guard
But they fright him wi their terrors
& that to him was worst of horrors
Howeer to end the tale—tho blunt
Tis just as homers skill was wont
That nought his genius might diminish
On his best tales he made no finish
Plainly to show his readers eyes
His fires to cinders never dies
To prove as chamber maids no doubt
He put it like their candles out

276

& leves it on our minds the stronger
If not thus servd twoud blazd much longer

So thus to mak the tale conclude
As happy as a storry should
Suffice it a'ter many a trouble
Which night sow'd in his journey double
He found to's joy his fears wer oer
When met at last wis meggys door
Who luck'ly listning on the watch
As soon's his thumb tinkt up the latch
Appeard in sweetest smiles again
(Sure antidote for all his pain)
& welcomd in her wandering love
As at the even does the dove
He hitcht his chair up—fears all hush
& felt as blest as he coud wish
Till mornings eye of rosy light
Had lookd away the fears of night
& now robs happy wi his lass
Theres some may say—but wheres the ass
To ned besure no harm befell
He lit o's legs for doing well
'Mong clover blossoms just in flower
He never passd so sweet an hour
F[r]ee from robins st[i]cks & strife
He neer felt happier in his life
He pickt & pickt the sweetest head
& followd just where fancy led
Till pindar rogues their prey pursuing
Unluck'ly catcht him trespass doing
& drove him from his plenty found
A felon provd by law—to pound
Thus ends the tale the wondrous travels
Of rob this midnights brood o' d---ls
& while it caution gi's the swain
Never to 'tempt the like again

277

Let other chaps consider well
Who hear the tale—the schemes of hell
& when the[y]ve sweet hearts in their heads
Neer to trust their lives wi ‘Neds’
But a'la's when they court their lasses
Tramp it on foot wi out their asses

BALLAD

[Jenny my darling this instant awaken]

Jenny my darling this instant awaken
The gales long ago the long grasses have shaken
& long from their beds have these posies bin taken
Theyll dye ere theyre pind to thy breast
All all they gay lass[es] their dresses are showing
& off to the fair wi their sweet hearts are going
For two or three hours ha' the cocks bin a crowing
Why coudnt ye rise wi the rest

What still are ye sleeping—then sleep till yr weary
The loss of your presence shall neer make me dreary
Heres rosey facd peggy so airy & cheery
Love neednt lye out of repair
& why shoudnt she be as good as fine Jenny
Tho she cannot boast of fine rags like a many
Her cheeks are as red & her eyes bright as any
So peg heres my arm for the fair

O stay sandy stay Ill be down in a minute
My gowns on already Ive just but to pin it
A good-for-nought dream all this while Ive bin in it
I neer heard ye call I declare

278

Ah jane yr too late look ye ever so handy
Ive found out a new love like sweet sugar candey
Yell know the next time how to deal wi your sandy
& not lye to dream at a fair

TIM TEG

Oh me muther a'l'ays keeps running her rigs on
& s a'l'ays tongue banging poor meg
& calling one nicknames ‘base baggage’ & fixon
Becaus' Im in love wi tim teg

Caus' shes an old mizer & hes a poor codger
& I am her on'y wench meg
But she may keep mouthing bout money & roger
Ill neer turn my back on tim teg

279

She tells me Im driving my hogs to a market
That'll scarce buy me matches to beg
That she wornt gi me sixpence for being so forked
But Ill hazard all wi tim teg

She leads me a life like a toad neath a harrow
The deuce tak' her bother thinks meg
She prophesies nothing but trouble & sorrow
& Ill suffer all wi tim teg

& tho I may come to want salt to my porridge
& tramp out wi matches & beg
Tho a squire string his purse wi the proffers of marriage
Ill neer turn my back on tim teg

280

ALE

‘Fortune if thoult but gie me still
‘Hale breeks a scone & wiskey gill
‘& rowth o ryhme to rave at will
‘Tak all the rest
‘& deal't about as thy blind skill
‘Directs thee best’
Burns

White flowering oer the tankards crown
Thou boast of every british town
Nick namd ‘old stout’ & ‘nock em down’
Old englands glory
All hail thou stingo of renown
Ale I adore thee

Thou down right death to pain & care
Of them I know Ive had my share
& most bin drove to hells despair
When theyve distrest me
But thee Ive sought at feast & fair
& thou hast blest me

& tho I love thee best of juices
Ill neer go make no vile excuses
For drunkards who thy name abuses
Theyre worse then hogs
When friend wi friend each other bruises
Like lugging dogs

281

In public hous such brutes of men
When ere I chance drop down agen
Ill never care to join em then
Curse on their spite
I call for half pint to my sen
& let em fight

Ale on thy name no buse I put on
I am no drunken lown nor glutton
A quarts as much as I get shut on
The best o' times
& then Im fixt as snugs a button
To tag my ryhmes

Ah kill care drug when Ive my gorge
All dumps & cares get their discharge
My old wrackt hulk gay trims her barge
Down pleasures sea
& I can cock my crown wi george
As blest as he

My health is then may sorrow die
& every soul be blest as I
& what thy spirits wornt supply
Each have his lass
& to that gem my heart holds nigh
Briton—success

282

O ale to sing how were thy debtors
Us hurkling half starvd labouring cre'tures
When we wi chiming luck can get us
An honest quart
How much thy juice our hard case betters
Its past my art

The toil worn thresher wan & pale
That most wants lifting up bys tale
Shove in his fist a quart of ale
Yed stare no doubt
To see him twirligig his flail
& come about

Old woodman rob up soon & late
& doomd to water porridge fate
Dips now i' beer—tho dead o late
Soon bove his want
As bugs a lord Ill bound to sayt
Hed sing & rant

O ale O ale what soul can ken
The wonders thou performsd on men
How thou drivst perking up agen
The drowking heart
Like majic spell to grief & pain
Is a full quart

Een begging tramps that scarce can hop
When luck picks twopence up to stop
& wet their throats wi barley drop
Then mark the trick
Theyve oft when left the stingo shop
Forgot their stick

& mark at times the feasting rout
No strut wi's snuff rag dingling out
Coud dance & push the quart about
The girls to please
& be more bumpsious then the lout
Such times as these

283

Theres some when gotten thro their groat
Will run the risk of hat & coat
& even pawn their shoes to boot
But these are such
Who'll bear for thee a sholess foot
Love thee to[o] much

Tho when their last groats forcd to pack
Tho coats are pawnd from off their back
& fragments left a tatterd wrack
All going to pot
While full of thee they take no lack
All cares forgot

Aye line but Johnneys fob wi chink
Half dead before as ye might think
Fix him wi some old crone to drink
O' merry vein
Yed think he never more coud sink
Ins dumps again

Where he as rich as any Lord
& when his last tooth was draw'd
Might splic't agen ats own accord
It coudnt mend
The joy that moment woud afford
Wis jug & friend

But was I ale to gi thee due
& praise thee as I ought to do
From morn till night I might pu[r]sue
& then attend
When't came agen wi praises new
World wi out end

O toils support & troubles cheer
Thus much I know if wanting beer
As sures Im born ere nother year
Had made its bed
Theyd tythe of us poor souls or near
Be toild to dead

284

O may the rascal have his portion
& par boild be wis hellish notion
When like a chauldron boils the ocean
Wi judgments flame
Who mixes thee wi potiond lotion
& blasts thy fame

Theres many a sign the fool entices
To drink forgd ale at cheapnd prices
Or jollop juice or ointment slices
For strength wit dealt
What—satans sen the king o vices
Woud shame to tellt

O ale thou strengthen up my song
Wi but one quart of stingo strong
Ill lash the knave woud do thee wrong
Wi ryhming gall
& were I parl'ments lists among
L---d help his fall

Wi w---les leave &s 'viser d---w
Lud how Id sneckle out his craw
Id be jack ketch the noose to draw
Oer forgers face
Id make his squeak the pains o law
‘O woes my case’

285

Brave cordial bless thy honest maker
At Stamford town old tantey baker
Sells juice o thine woud cure the ague
A tartan stroke
A quarts gen manys legs a shaker
& mine its broke

Ah that I ha'nt a pen to scrawl
Like burns's wiskey quill wi all
Now I ha namd ‘th'hole i'th' wall’
Much mores the pity
Theres none throught stamford but shoud call
I'bakers gitty

However as the widows mite
Wher provd as goods the highest quite
Ill be for once the strangers light
& this declare
If ye want beer to set ye right
Spend tenpence there

O ale O ale thou nut brown charm
While tenpence I in fob can farm
& that will buy a quart thy balm
& pipe to boot
While fate smiles thus Ill take no harm
Tho rag'ds a coot

286

& did the soldier love his king
As I love thee thou darling thing
Theyd drive all foes the world shoud bring
Like chaff away
& hell himself shoud meet a ding
At the last day

O quart me wi this charming stush
Ill sing & whistle like a thrush
Gi kings men ale their foes will brush
Like flies away
Een nickeys troops woud meet a push
At the last day

287

THE WOODMAN

Dedicated to the Revd J. Knowles Holland

The beating snow clad bell wi sounding dead
Hath clanked four—the woodmans wakd agen
& as he leaves his comfortable bed
Dithers to view the ryhmey featherd pane
& shrugs & wishes—but its all in vain
The beds warm comforts he must now forgo
His family that oft till eight hath lain
Wi out his labours wage coud not do so
& glad to make them blest he shoffles thro the snow

288

The early winters morns as dark as pitch
The warey wife keeps tinder every night
Wi flint & steal & many a sturdy twitch
Sits up in bed to strike her man a light
& as the candle shows the rapturous sight
Aside his wife his rosey sleeping boy
He smacks his lips wi exquisite delight
Wi all a fathers feelings fathers joy
Then bids his wife good bye & hies to his employ

His br[e]akfast water porridge humble food
A barley crust he in his wallet flings
Wi this he toils & labours i' the wood
& chops his faggot twists his band & sings
As happily as princes & as kings
Wi all their luxury—& blest is he
Can but the little which his labour brings
Make both ends meet & from long debts keep free
& keep as neat & clean his creasing family

Far oer the dreary fields the woodland lies
Rough is the journey which he daily goes
The wooley clouds that hang the frowning skies
Keep winnowing down their drifting sleet & snows

289

& thro his doublet keen the north wind blows
While hard as iron the cemented ground
& smooth as glass the glibbed pool is froze
His nailed boots wi clenching tread rebound
& dithering echo starts & mocks the clamping sound

The woods how gloomy in a winters morn
The crows & ravens even cease to croak
The little birds sit chittering on the thorn
The pies scarce chatter when the[y] leave the oak
Startld from slumber by the woodmans stroke
The milk maids songs is drownd in gloomy care
& while the village chimleys curl their smoke
She milks & blows & hastens to be there
& nature all seems sad & dying in despair

The squirking rabbit scarcly leaves her hole
But rolls in torpid slumbers all the day
The fox is loath to gin a long patrole
& scouts the woods content wi meaner prey
The hare so frisking timid once & gay
Hind the dead thistle hurkles from the view
No[r] scarcly scard tho in the travellers way
Tho waffling curs & shepherd dogs pursue
So winters riggid power affects all nature through

290

What different changes winters frowns supplies
The clown no more a loitering hour beguiles
Nor gauping tracks the clouds along the skyes
As when buds blossom & the warm sun smiles
When la[w]rence wages bids on hills & stiles
Banks stiles & flowers & skyes no longer charm
Deep snow & ice each summer seat defiles
Wi hasty blundering step & folded arm
He glad the stable seeks his frost nipt nose to warm

The shepherd seeks no more his spreading oak
Nor on the sloping pond head lyes at lare
The arbour he once wattld up is broke
& left unworthy of his future care
The ragged plundering stickers have bin there
& bottld it away—he passes bye
His summer dwelling desolate & bare
& neer so much as turns a 'serning eye
But gladly seeks his fire & leaves the 'clement skye

The scenes all clothd in snow from morn till night
The woodmans loath his chilly tools to sieze
The crows unroosting as he comes in sight
Shake down the feathery burthen from the trees

291

To look at things around hes fit to freeze
Scard from her pearch the fluttering pheasant flies
His coat & hat wi ryhme is turned white
He quakes looks round & pats his hands & sighs
& wishes to him self that the warm sun woud rise

& be the winter cutting as it will
Let north winds winnow fit to nip one through
In the deep woods hard fate demands him still
To stand the bitterest blasts that ever blew
Where trees instead of leaves & pearly dew
In ryhme & snow & Iscicles abound
The proverb ‘use is second natures’ true
It must be so or how coud he be found
To weather out the blast & daily stand his ground

& yet tho fortune frowns upon the poor
& dooms their life to slavish hard employ
Tho wealth forever gainst em shuts her door
& strives their fainting wishes to destroy
Yet still poor souls they have a glimpse of joy
A sugard charm still sweets the sours of fate
His sparing bliss when met does never cloy
While over much does paul the idly great
As rich & sumptious foods does surfeitings create

Good luck it is his providential wealth
That hardy labour & the freshing air
Shoud 'crease his strength & keep entire his health
& neer let illness on his soul despair

292

Wi wife & childern pending on his care
What woud he do a livlihood to gain
The parish moneys but a pining fare
Such scouts benevolence he does disdain
Who grudges what they give & mocks the poor mans pain

But if unwell from toil hes forcd to stop
He quickly then repairs to medcines aid
Tho not to nauciates of the druggists shop
Or cant advice of docters mystic trade
But to such drugs as daily are displayd
Een round his walks & cottage door profuse
‘Self heal’ & ‘agrimony’ which has made
Full many an huswife wonderous cures produce
These he in summer seeks & hurds up for his use

The robin tamest of the featherd race
Soon as he hears the woodmans sounding chops
Wi ruddy bosom & a simple face
Around his old companions feet he hops
& there for hours in pleasd attention stops
The woodmans heart is tender & humane
& at his meals he many a crumble drops
Thanks to thy generous feelings gentle swain
& what thy pity gives shall not be gave in vain

The woodman pleased views the closing day
To see the sun drop down behind the wood
Sinking in clouds deep blue or misty grey
Round as a football & as red as blood

293

The pleasing prospect does his heart much good
Tho tis not his such beautys to admire
He hastes to fill his bags wi billet wood
Well pleasd from the chill prospect to retire
To seek his corner chair & warm snug cottage fire

& soon the dusky even hovers round
& the white frost gins crizzle pond & brook
The little family are squinting round
& from the door dart many a wistful look
The suppers ready stewing on the hook
& every foot that clampers down the street
Is for the coming fathers step mistook
& joyd are they when he their eyes does meet
Bent neath his load snow clad as whites a sheet

I think I see him seated in his chair
Taking the bellows up the fire to blow
I think I hear him joke & chatter there
Telling his childern news they wish to know
Wi leather leggings on that stopt the snow
His broad brimd hat uncoothly shapen round
Nor woud he Ill be bound woud it were so
Gi two pence for the chance did it abound
At that same hour to be the king of england crownd

Soons suppers down the thrifty wife seeks out
Her little jobs of family conserns
Chiding her childern rabbling about
Says they'll 'stroy more then what their father earns

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& their torn clohs she bodges up & darns
For desent women cannot bear the sight
Of dirty houses & of ragged ba[i]rns
Tis their employment & their chief delight
To keep their cots & childern neat & tight

The woodman smokes the brats in mirth & glee
& artless prattle evens hours beguile
While loves last pledge runs scrambling up his knee
The nightly comfort from his weary toil
His chuff cheeks dimpling in a fondling smile
He claims his kiss & says his scraps of prayer
Begging his daddys pretty song the while
Playing wis jacket buttons & his hair
& thus in wed locks joys the labourer drowns his care

Nor can one miss the bliss from labour freed
Which poor men meeteth on a Sunday morn
Fixt in a chair some godly book to read
Or wandering round to view the crops & corn
In best cloaths fitted out & beard new shorn
Dropping adown in some warm shelterd dell
Wi six days labour weak & weary worn
Listning around each distant chiming bell
That on the softening air melodiously doth swell

His pipe pufft out he edges in his chair
& stirs the embers up his hands to warm
& with his singing book he does repair
To humming oer an anthem hymn or psalm

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Nor does he think a ballad any harm
But often carrols oer his cottage hearth
‘Bold robin hood’ the ‘Shipwreck’ or the ‘storm’
O where we find this social joy & mirth
There we may truly say a heaven exists on earth

The clock when eight warns all for bed prepare
The childern still an extra minute crave
& sawn & stammer longer oer their prayers
& they such tempting fond excuses have
The 'dulging father oft the boon has gave
& sung again the younkers to delight
While every hard earnd farden glad to save
The carfull wife puts out the candle light
& oer the fire the song & tale makes sweet the winters night

& as most lab'rers knowingly pretend
By certain signs to judge the weather right
As oft from ‘noahs ark’ great floods desend
& ‘burred moons’ fortell great storms at night
In such like things the wood man took delight
& ere he went to bed woud always ken
Wether the sky was gloomd or stars shone bright
Then went to comforts arms till morn & then
As cheery as the sunrise beams resumd his toils agen

296

& ere he slept he always breathd a prayer
‘I thank thee lord what thou to day didst give
‘Sufficient strength to toil I bless thy care
‘& thank thee still for what I may recieve
‘& o almighty god while I still live
‘My eyes if opend on the last days sun
‘Prepare thou me this wicked world to leave
‘& fit my passage ere my race is run
‘Tis all I beg o lord thy heavenly will be done’

Holland to thee this humble ballads sent
Thee who for poor mans well fare oft hath prayd
Whose tongue did neer belye its good intent
Preacher as well in practice as in trade
Alas too often moneys business made
O may the wretch thats still in darkness living
The bibles comforts hear by thee displayd
And many a woodmans family forgiven
Have cause for blessing thee that led their way for heaven

297

IMPROMTU

[Where art thou wandering little child]

Where art thou wandering little child
I said to one I met to day
She pusht her bonnet up & smild
‘Im going upon the green to play
‘Folks tell me that the mays in flower
‘That cowslap peeps are fit to pull
‘& Ive got leave to spend an hour
‘To get this little basket full’

—& thourt got leave to spend an hour
My heart repeated—she was gone
—& thou hast heard the thorns in flower
& childhoods bliss is urging on
Ah happy child thou makst me sigh
This once as happy heart of mine
Woud nature wi the boon comply
How glad Id chang't away for thine

298

CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS

Perhaps it is foolish to remark it but there are times & places when I am a child at those things Mackenzie

Each scene of youth to mes a pleasing toy
Which memory like a lover doats upon
& mixt wi them I am again a boy
& tears & sighs regret the things thats gone

An wi enthusiast excesses wild
The scenes of childhood meet my moistning eye
& wi the very weakness of a child
I feel the raptures of delights gone bye

& if Im childish wi such trifling things
If littleness it shows & vain & weak
When such like foolishness in memory spring[s]
Vain as it is I cannot help but speak

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& still I fancy as around I stroll
Each boyish scene to mark the sport & game
Theres others living wi a self like soul
That thinks & loves such trifles just the same

An old familiar spot I witness here
Wi young companions were we oft have met
Tho since we playd tis bleachd wi many a year
The sports as warmly thrills my bosom yet

Here winds the dyke were oft we jumpt across
Tis just as if it were but yesternight
There hangs the gate we calld our wooden horse
Were we in swee swaw ridings took delight

& every thing shines round me just as then
Mole hills & trees & bushes speckling wild
That freshens all those pastimes up agen
O griveous day that changd me from a child

To seek the play thing & the pleasing toy
The painted pootey shell & summer flowers
How blest was I when I was here a boy
What joys were mine in these delightfull hours

300

On this same bank I bound my poseys up
& culld the sweetest blossoms one by one
The cowslips still entices me to stoop
But all the feelings they inspird are gone

Tho in the midst of each endeard delight
Where still the cowslaps to the breezes bow
Tho all my childish scenes are in my sight
Sad manhood marks me an intruder now

Here runs the brook which I have damd & stopt
Wi choaking sods & water weeds & stones
& watchd wi joy till bursting off it plopt
In rushing gushes of wild murmering groans

Here stands the tree wi clasping ivy bound
Which oft Ive clumb to see the chaps at plough
& checkerd fields for many a furlong round
Rockd by the winds upon its topmost bough

Ah on this bank how blest I once have felt
When here I sat & mutterd namless songs
& wi the shepherd boy & netterd knelt
Upon yon rush beds plaiting whips & thongs

Fond memory warms as here with gravel shells
I pild my fancied cots & walled rings
& scoopt wi wooden knife my little wells
& filld em up wi water from the springs

301

Ah memory sighs now hope my heart beguiles
To build as yet snug cots to cheer despair
While fate at distance mocks wi gri[n]ning smiles
& calls my structures castles in the air

Now een the thistles quaking in the wind
The very rushes nodding oer the green
Hold each expressive language to my mind
That like old mayteys tell of what has been

O ‘sweet of sweets’ from infancy that flow
When can we witness bliss so sweet as then
Might I but have my choice of joy below
I'd only ask to be a boy agen

Life owns no joy so pleasant as the past
That banishd pleasure rapt in memorys womb
It leaves a flavour sweet to every taste
Like the sweet substance of the honey comb

302

MY MATEY

A tinker on his stoney seat
Mending kettles in the street
This funny ballad did repeat
About his matey

Who stead of going to church to pray
To ale house slives the nearest way
& oft gets drunk the sabbath day
My matey

Who sits till spent his week wage store
& then gins choak behind the door
Till trusting knaves will trust no more
My matey

Who when hes drove in famines nook
Woud most tempt steal the parsons book
To get a pint by hook le crook
My matey

303

Who spite of faults pride holds in scorn
Brought on by wretchedness forlorn
Proves good a friend as ere was born
My matey

Who when hes gotten fixt again
& want by two three shills is slain
Will dealt about as free as rain
My matey

Who ever gis a beggar part
& sings his song & drinks his quart
While hes a stiver left to start
My matey

Who mong his mates as soon as bid
Will out wis box spank up the lid
& splice around the pipe & quid
My matey

Who when his bacco stores are weak
& some sad hound refreshments seek
Will parts old tramper from his cheek
My matey

But who whens full purse treateth men
That leaves his wants to help him sen
Swears theyll near s[o]dger him agen
My matey

& who when old crones take a pride
Their pound wis last groat to divide
Woud een at hell gate stick tos side
My matey

304

Who oft encounters dreadful wars
When sopping full he home repairs
& who fors wife as little cares
My matey

Who stands no henpeckt jaw nor blows
But in her face a dazzler throws
& blacks her eye & bloods her nose
My matey

Who shows to life no childish play
Nor meets wi sorrows half the way
Thro sun & swale whos al'ays gay
My matey

Who oft confind to wants foul tether
Wi water porridge stans the weather
& lives on bread for weeks together
My matey

Who thinks the ills of life resorts
All natural vermin in their sorts
As lice is bred on beggars coats
My matey

Who mocks old fate till him she put
Wi barlay crust i roofless hut
& lives where some there throats woud cut
My matey

Who still takes life as it may swing
& follows chance to drink & sing
Nor thinks a harm tos land or king
My matey

305

SONG

[A beautiful flower that bedeckt a mean pasture]

A beautiful flower that bedeckt a mean pasture
In virgin perfection I found
Its fair bloom stood naked to e'ery disaster
& deep the storm gatherd around
The rose in the midst of its brambles is blooming
Whose weapons intruders alarm
But sweetest of blossoms fond fair & weak woman
Owns nothing to guard her from harm

Each stranger seemd struck wi a blossom so lovly
In such a lone valey that grew
The clowns admiration did look on it roughly
While its blushing leaves shrunk from his view
O sweet was the eve when I found the fair blossom
Sure never seemd blossom so fair
I instant transplanted its charms to my bosom
& deep has the root gatherd there

306

TO FORTITUDE

Now nature as a curtain stretcht about
Hems night's gloom in & shuts the day light out
& seemingly in awful pressure throws
Her grizly blanket oer the worlds repose
Sad lonly wandering from ones cheerless home
Now this still hour this solemn periods come
O thou support whose taste wi mine agrees
Whose solemn musings suit such hours as these
Thou fortitude atend my wandering feet
& lead a suffering pilgrim to thy seat
There banishd from the world[s] deciet & noise
Its routs & revels folly titles joys
Tho small was such that folly shard to me
Let me look up above the world wi thee
& calmly bear the burthen life lays on
& read faiths 'lumind scroll by hopes unfurld
That tells our mortal ills shall soon be gone
& bliss reward us in a better world

307

PEACE

I seek for peace—I care not where its found
On this rude scene in briars & brambles drest
If peace dwells here tis consecrated ground
& owns the power to give my bosom rest
To sooth the wrankling of each bitter wound
Gauld by rude envys adder biting jest
& worldly strife—ah I am looking round
For peaces hermitage if here its found
& sure that breeze that oer the blue wave curld
Did wisper soft ‘thy wanderings here are blest’
How different to the language of the world
Nor jeers nor taunts in this still spot is given
Its calms a balsam to a soul distrest
& where peace smiles a wilderness is heaven

WINTER RAINBOW

Thou winter thou art keen intensly keen
Thy cutting frowns experience well does know
For in thy weather days & days Ive been
As grinning north winds horribly did blow
& pepperd round my head their hail & snow

308

Throughout thy reign tis mine each year to prove thee
& spite of every storm Ive beetld in
Wi all thy insults winter I do love thee
Thou half enchantress like to picturd sin
Tho many a frown thy sparing smiles deform
As the shy sun beams shrinketh from its shroud
& thy bright rain bow gilds the purple storm
I look entranced on thy painted cloud
& what wild eye wi natures beauties charmd
That hangs enrapturd oer each witching spell
Can see thee winter then & not be warmd
To breath thy praise & say ‘I love thee well’

TO --- UNDER A CLOUD

Tho lovly flower round thee the storm is brewing
& my once ‘rosebuds’ opening into ruin
When each leaf fades that gave such hopes of blooming
& sweets must blight that once wer so perfuming
& all dispoild by luckless armorous Johny
Who sung thee once so artless blythe & bonny
Thy beauty form whose songs so often tell on
Thy virtues pra[i]sd so much but ‘flesh is failing’
Yet look thou up above thy coming sorrow
The tempest falls to day & clears to morrow
If wide mouths cant be stopt why thou must bear em
As horns may chance to bud & I mun wear em
If fates condemd us poor it makes no matter
Bad news no reason were to be no better

309

So wi the all which thee & I inherits
My many failings & thy injurd merits
Wi little left to say on this or tother
Ive spoilt thy bloom not as Id spoil another
The common weeds of every gazers freedom
Have nothing left to value or to heed em
But thou lovd bud thy every sweet uncurling
Where vices evil eye its darts were hurling
Thou still hast beautys every fate prevading
Now sweets are banishd & thy flower is fading
Thou still hast beautys left I cannot shun
From scenes thats past my bosom cannot sever
When the flower dies & every beauties done
The witherd remnant stem Ill love for ever

PLEASURES PAST

Springs sweets they are not fled tho summers blossom
Has met its blight of sadness drooping low
Still flowers gone bye find beds in memrys bosom
Lifes nursling buds among the weeds of woe
Each pleasing token of springs early morning
Warms wi the pleasures which we once did know
Each little stem the leafy wood bank 'dorning
Reminds of joys from infancy that flow
Springs early herralds on the winter smileing
That often on their errands meet their doom
Primrose & daisey dreary hours beguiling
Smile oer my pleasures past when ere they come
& the speckt throstle never wakes his song
But lifes past spring seems melting from his tongue

310

ON DEATH

O life thy name to me's a gauling sound
A sound Id fainly wish to breath no more
One only peace for me my hopes have found
When thy existance & wild race is oer
When death makes one & heals a thousand wounds
& lays my aching head in the cold ground
O happy hour Id only wish to have
Another moments gasp & then the grave
I only wish but one disparting sigh
A welcome farewell take of all & dye
Thoust gen me little world for thanks return
Thou tempts me little wi thee still to 'bide
One only cause in leaving thee I mourn
That I had neer been born or in the cradle dyd

BALLAD

[Now the aprils gentle showers]

Now the aprils gentle showers
Notts the thorn for blosom
& the spring the sunny hours
Pricks daiseys on her bosom

311

Fear nothing love thy shoe to stain
As save the dewey morning
The pasture pads are dryd again
As soons the sun is dawning
Not till then I woud be fain
To meet thee on the green

Then Ill get thee posies love
Then Ill get thee posies
Rob the woodbines from the grove
& hedgrow of its roses
Cull the cowslips from the lea
Wet wi the dewey morning
Bind it up & keept for thee
Gen the sun is dawning
Thens the time Id wish to see
Thy beauties cheer the green

DAY BREAK

The red east glows the dewey cheek of morning
Has not yet me[t] the suns oerpowering smile
The dew drop in its beauty still is dawning
Save those the shepherds early steps defile

312

Pleasd will I linger on the scene awhile
The black clouds melt away the larks awaken
Sing rising bird & I will join wi thee
Wi day breaks beautys I have much bin taken
As thy first anthem breaths its melody
Ive stood & pausd the varied cloud to see
& warmd in extacy & lookd & warmd
The far hill top when days first rays gan dawning
& blue clouds fringd wi gold—O doubly charmd
I hung in raptures on thee early morning

AFTER A FINE WINTERS DAY

The sun lookd out the dreary scene to bless
Old winters grinning horrors forcful smild
His flinty bosom thawd wi tenderness
So fiercfull savages have melted mild
Neath the sweet looks of womans lovliness
So poesy thy witcheries so wild
Doth warm the chilly heart of wants distress
& forcful give a joy to natures child
Spite of his anguish—ah he coud express
Full many a pleasure & full many a pain
Mingling like gaul & honey sun & rain
A fine decembers day thou art to me
Tho winter still beneath thy rays remain
Her grinning frowns are melted soft by thee

313

AFTER HEARING A LADY PLAY THE MUSICAL GLASSES

O yond expression delicatly fine
Beneath her slender fingers swept the sound
Of witching music heavenly divine
Soothing & soft upon the sense it wound
Joind wi the sirens music as it where
As her sweet voice did mingle on the ear
Ah who but knows what womans voice can do
To every soul such melody is dear
Angelic harmony & beauty too
Our very souls melt in the sounds they hear
Its breaks—its pauses—o most witching sweet
Enrapturd memory still each air retains
& as the mind the sirens songs repeat
Creates sensations sweeter then her strains

314

BALLAD

[I love thee sweet mary but love thee in fear]

I love thee sweet mary but love thee in fear
Were I but the morning breeze healthy & airy
As thou goest a walking Id breathe in thy ear
& wisper & sigh how I love thee my mary

I wish but to touch thee but wish it in vain
Was thou but a streamlet a winding so clearly
& I little globules of soft dropping rain
How fond woud I press thy white bosom my mary

I woud steal a kiss but I dare not presume
Was thou but a rose in thy garden sweet fairy
& I a bold bee for to rifle its bloom
A whole summers day woud I kiss thee my mary

315

I long to be wi thee but cannot tell how
Was thou but the eldern that grows by thy dairy
& I the blest woodbine to twine on the bough
Id embrace thee & stick to thee ever my mary

STANZA TO A TEAR

Sweet glistning tear tho hung on emmas cheek
Of thy lovd station Id not disinherit thee
A better proof one need not wish to seek
Then thou sweet gelid jem of loves sincerity
I love to see thee paint sweet womans face
& moister beautys we[a]r wi sweeter grace
To mourn & sigh is every harlots forgery
But thou unsullied drop so presive stealing
Down the soft cheek wi' no designing treachery
Art the souls essence—its most deepest feeling

316

That words cant utter may be read in thee
Clear looking glass of thee unfolded heart
Its undisembld purity to prove
For when with thee cares sorrows hath no part
Thy births affection & thyself true love

LIFE

Life thou art misery or as much to me
One name serves both or I no difference see
Tho some there lives woud call thee heaven below
But thats a nick name I've not learnd to know
A wretch wi poverty & pains replete
Where even usless stones beneath his feet
Cannot be gathe[r]d up to say theyre mine
Sees little heaven in a life like thine
Hope lends a sorry shelter from thy storms
& largly promises but small performs
O irksome life was but this hour my last
This weary breath feign sighs for its decay
O that my soul deaths dreary vale had past
& met the sunshine of a better day

317

THE SNOW DROP

Sweet type of innoscence snow clothed blosom
Seemly tho vainly bowing down to shun
The storm hard beating on its wan white bosom
Left in the swale & little cheerd by sun
As like as that frail jewel just begun
To ope on vices eye its witcheries blooming
Midst all its storms wi little room to shun
Ah thou art winters snowdrop lovly woman
In this world dropt where every evils glooming
Wi killing tempest oer their tender prey
That watch the opening of thy beauties coming
Its every infant charm to snatch away
Then comes the sorrows thourt too weak to brave
& then thy beauty cheek digs ruins early grave

318

WRITTEN IN AUTUMN

Checkt autumn doubly sweet is thy declining
To meditate thee in this wilderd shade
To view the wood in its pied lustre shining
& catch each varied beauty as they fade
Where oer broad hazel leaves thy pencil mellows
Red as the glow that mornings opening warms
& as[h] & maple neath thy color yellows
As robd some sunbeam of its setting charms
O Id say much of what now meets my eye
But be[a]utys loose me in variety
O for the warmth of soul & witching measure
Of 'xpressive zemblance poesy which is thine
& genius eye to view this transient treasure
That autumn here might lastingly decline

319

IN HELPSTONE CHURCH YARD

What makes me love thee now thou dreary scene
& see in each swelld heap a peacful bed
I well remember once the time has been
To walk a church [yard] when I usd to dread
& shudderd as Ive read upon the stone
Of well known friends & next door neighbours gone
But then I knew no cloudy cares of life
Where neer a sunbeam comes to light me thorow
A stranger then to this worlds storms & strife
Where neer a calm is met to lull my sorrow
I then was blest & had not eyes to see
Lifes future change & fates severe tomorrow
When all those ill[s] & pains shoud compass me
& no hope left but what I meet in thee

320

TO AN HOUR GLASS

Old fashiond uncooth measurer of the day
I love to watch thy siltering burthen pass
Tho some there is that lives woud bid thee stay
But those view reasons thro a different glass
To him times meter who adresses thee
The world has joys which they may deem as such
The world has wealth to season vanity
& wealth is theirs to make their va[i]ness much
But small to do worlds joys & fortunes fee
Wi him times cronicler who welcomes thee
So jog thou on thro hours of doomd distress
So haste thou on the glimpse of hopes to come
As every sand grain counts a trouble less
As every draind glass leaves me nearer home

321

THE REQUEST

Now the sunbeams gin to blink
& hind yon mountain looses
& each eye that might evil think
In blinded slumber closes
Now the fields a desert grown
Now the hedgers fled the grove
Put thou on thy russet gown
Shielded from the dews my love
& wander out wi me

We have met at early day
Slander rises early
Slanders tongues had much to say
& still I love thee dearly
Slander now to rest has gone
Only wake the courting dove
Slily steal thy bonnet on
Leave thy fathers cot my love
& wander out wi me

Clowns have passed our noonday screen
Neath the awthorns blossom
Seldom there the chance has been
To press thee to my bosom
Ploughmen now no more apear
Night winds but the thorn bough move
Squander not a minute here
Lift the door latch gently love
& wander out wi me

322

O the hour so sweet as this
Wi friendly night surrounded
Left free to talk embrace & kiss
By virtue only bounded
Loose it not make no delay
Put on thy doublet hat & glove
Sly ope the door & steal away
& sweet twill be my only love
To wander out wi thee

TO MY MOTHER

Wi filial duty I adress thee mother
Thou dearest tie which this worlds wealth posseses
Endearing name no language owns another
That half the tendeness & love expresses
The very word it self breaths that affection
That heaves the bosom of a luckless child
To thank thee for that care & that protection
That once where fortune frowns so sweetly smild

323

Ah oft fond memory leaves its pillowed anguish
To think when in thy arms my sleep was sound
& now my sta[r]tld tear oft views thee languish
& feign woud drop its honey in the wound
But ah Im doomd the sad reverse to see
Where the worst pain I feel is loss of helping thee

AFTER HEARING RURAL RYHMES OF W.H. PRAISD BY A LADY

Aye lowland bard & canst thou whistle
Wi nought to charm but rush & thistle
Effex it nicks me to the grissle
To read thy strains
While here in dumps I drone & drizzle
Mong woods & plains

& feth Im tempted once again
To trespass upon parnuss plain
In critics pinfold to be taen
& tongue bangd sore
Tho scores o oaths Ive swore in vain
To write no more

324

My hobbling muse too maks excuse
Bout ink drying up for want of use
& mice wi paper playing the deuce
& tho alls just
Her reasonings hant a bit of use
For write I must

I gen embarkd on fames wide ocean
In spite ots rocks & surgey motion
Wi every hope & every notion
Strong as they were
The lord knows how may fall my potion
Twixt hope & fear

Tho carless wether parnus lasses
Mount us on pegasus or asses
Or how the critics please to class us
Mongrel or bard
Theres many a one that far surpass us
Met like reward

But here I most forgot my sen
The cause that tickles me agen
A lady points my stunted pen
& shoud my cant
Meet praise like billys of the fen
Tis all I want

325

WRITTEN ON A BIRTHDAY 20 YEAR

Luckless day the sorriest tidings
Thy last folded pages tell
Youth from manhood thourt dividing
Youth & pleasure fare ye well

Twenty years & this thy blessing
Much did hopes on manhood dwell
Much tomorrow was expressing
Better prospects fare ye well

Birthday—smiles thy youth atended
Manhoods broke thy hopfull spell
The curtains dropt hopes dramas ended
Closd illusions fare ye well

326

RECOLLECTIONS AFTER AN EVENING WALK

Just as the even bell rung we set out
To wander the fields & the meadows about
& the first thing we markt that was lovly to view
Was the sun hung on nothing & bidding adieu
He seemd like a ball of pure gold in the west
In a cloud like a mountain blue dropping to rest
The clouds all around him were tingd wi his rays
& the trees at a distance seemd all on a blaze
Till lower & lower & sunk from our sight
& blue mist came creeping wi silence & night
The woodman then ceasd wi his hatchet to hack
& bent a way home wi his kid on his back
The mower too lapt up his scythe from our sight
& put on his jacket & bid us good night
The thresher once lumping we heard him no more
He left his barn dust & had shut up his door
The shepherd had told all his sheep in his pen
& hummed his song to his cottage agen
But the sweetest of all seeming music to me
Was the song of the clumbsy brown beetle & bee
The one was a hastning away to his hive
The other was just from his sleeping alive

327

& our hats he kept knocking as if hed no eyes
& when batterd down he was puzzld to rise
The little gay moth too was lovly to view
A dancing wis liley white wings in the dew
He wiskd oer the water pudge flirting & airy
& perchd on the down headed grass like a fairy
& there came the snail from his shell peeping out
As fear full & cautious as thieves on the rout
The sly jumping frog too had venturd to tramp
& the glow worm had just gun to light up his lamp
To sip of the dew the worm pep[t] from his den
But dreading our footsteps soon vanishd agen
& numbers of creatures apeard in our sight
That live in the silence & sweetness of night
Climbing up the tall grasses or scaling the bough
But these were all namless unoticd till now
& then we wound round neath the brooks willow row
& lookt at the clouds that kept passing below
The moons image too in the brook we coud seet
As if twas the tother world under our feet
& we listnd well pleasd at the guggles & groans
The water made passing the pebbles & stones
& then we turnd up by the rut rifted lane
& sought for our cot & the village again
For night gatherd round & shut all from the eye
& a black sutty cloud crept all over the sky
The wet bush we past soon as touchd it woud drop
& the grass neath our feet was as wet as a mop
& as to the town we aproachd very fast
The bat even popt in our face as he past

328

& the crickets sung loud as we went by the house
& by the barn side we saw many a mouse
Quirking round for the kernels that litterd about
As shook from the straw which the thresher hurld out
& then we came up to our cottage once more
& shut out the night dew & lockt up the door
The dog barkd a welcome well pleasd at our sight
& the owl oer our cot flew & woopt a good night

TO ---

[A blossom won my wandering eye]

A blossom won my wandering eye
Its looks had power to win
Its hue was of the liley dye
How ever foul within
But ere I stretchd my gathering hand
A rival popt between
& bragd of far superior land
& won the fickle queen

Well it might go I could but sigh
But neer shall cost a tear
He who a beauty face dare buy
Will find his bargain dear

329

A lovly maid woud coldly prove
U[n]less her heart were mine
A beauty charm wi out its love
Im happy to resign

A SIGH IN A PLAY GROUND OF INFANCY

O happy spot how much the sight of thee
Wakes the endearments of my infancy
The very trees thro which the wild winds sigh
Seem wispering now some joys of youth gone bye
& each spot round so sacred to my sight
Hints at some moments pastime of delight
Each object there that warmly seems to claim
A tender membrance of some childish game
The very slabs before yon doors that lye
The top seems spinning still in memorys eye
& fancys echo still yon close resounds
Wi noise of blind mans bluff & fox & hounds
Ah as left rotting neath its mossy crown
The pile stands sacred oer some past renown

330

So thou dear spot tho doubtless but to me
Art sacred from the joys posest in thee
That rose & shone & set a suns sojourn
As quick in speed alas without return

‘O SWEET IS LOVE’

A Song

Meeting love—its namless joys
Looks expressing half they feel
Hearts fond flutter doating eyes
As in each others arms they steal
O sweet is love

Parting love its valued tear
Sighs unfol[d]ing all they feel
Soul breathd kisses trembling dear
As in each others arms they steal
O sweet is love

331

SECOND ADRESS TO THE ROSE BUD IN HUMBLE LIFE

Wild delight of fairest feature
Beautys topmost crowning gem
Negligence of carless nature
Left to deck a lowly stem
Left to every vice assailing
Vulgar tongues delight to tell
Left to blights so oft prevailing
Dangerd sweet I wish thee well

Far be every evil from thee
Bud to blight or bloom decay
Still unborn the wretch to wrong thee
First beguile & then betray
Who so destitute of feeling
Woud thy innoscence beguile
Who so base to be a villian
Woud thy spotless sweets defile

Far may every sensless looby
Leave thy unprotected tree
As the swine admires the ruby
So the clown woud value thee

332

Soul of feeling warmly beating
Warmth that can of love impart
Shoudst thou such a one be meeting
Be thou gratfull to his heart

Far be fates reverse to morrows
Bidding hopes to day decline
All lifes sweets without its sorrows
May they tender charm be thine
May the sun that opes thy blossom
Gilding sweet thy blushy flower
Set in smiles upon thy bosom
Neer to know a swaily hour

Long may live my artless beauty
Long thy sweetness I may tell
Tis thy poets humble duty
Thus to see & wish thee well
Tis thy poets latest blessing
When fates hazard race is run
That thy life no pains expressing
End as sweet as it begun

333

SONG

[O the pleasures I do find]

O the pleasures I do find
Lovly Jessy near thee
When every green wi flowers are lind
& linnets sing to cheer thee
Then my love so fair so kind
Tis heaven while Im near thee Jessy
Heaven while Im near thee

Tho tis not the charms of spring
Can add a charm to cheer me
When every pleasures took to wing
& left the pasture dreary
When every birds forgot to sing
Tis heaven to be near thee Jessy
Heaven to be near thee

Left to winters frost & snow
When storms descend severly
Left wi birds to pick the slow
& left wi thee to cheer me
Still while lifes red tide shoud flow
Heaven woud be near thee Jessy
Heaven woud be near thee

334

Banisht to some barren isle
Where famine scowld severly
Jessy blest wi thee the while
Till life was left to cheer me
Still on fate & thee Id smile
For heavens always near thee Jessy
Heavens always near thee

BALLAD

[Winters gone the summer breezes]

Winters gone the summer breezes
Breath the shepherds joys again
Village scenes no longer pleases
Pleasures meet upon the plain
Snows are fled that hung the bowers
Buds to blossoms softly steal
Winters rudness melts in flowers
Charmer leave thy spinning wheel
& tend the sheep wi me

335

Carless here shall pleasures lull thee
From domestic troubles free
Rushes for thy couch Ill pull thee
In the shade thy seat shall be
All the flower buds will I get
Springs first sun beams do unseal
Primrose cowslip violet
Charmer leave thy spinning wheel
& tend the sheep wi me

Cast away thy ‘twilly willy’
Winters warm protecting gown
Storms no longer blow to chill thee
Come wi mantle loosly thrown
Garments light as gales embraces
That thy heavenly shapes reveal
Put thou on thy airy dresses
Charmer leave thy spinning wheel
& tend the sheep wi me

Sweet to sit where brooks are flowing
Pleasant spreads the gentle heat
On the greens lap thyme is growing
Every molhill forms a seat
Fear not suns cause thourt so fair
In the thorn bower well conseal
Neer a sunbeam pierces there
Charmer leave thy spin[n]ing wheel
& tend the sheep wi me

336

NATIVE SCENES

O native scenes nought to my heart clings nearer
Then you ye edens of my youthful hours
Nought in this world warms my affections dearer
Then you ye plains of white & yellow flowers
The awthorn hedgerow & the woodbine bowers
Where youth has rovd & still where memory roves
The pasture pathway neath its willow groves
Ah as my eye looks oer these lovly scenes
All the delights of former life beholding
Spite of the pain the care that intervenes
When lovd remembrance is her bliss unfolding
Picking her childish posies on your greens
My soul can peer oer its distress awhile
& sorrows cheek find leisure for a smile

337

WRITTEN IN NOVEMBER

Autumn I love thy latter end to view
In cold novembers day so bleak & bare
When like lifes dwindld thread worn nearly thro
Wi lingering pottering pace & head bleachd bare
Thou like an old man bids the world adieu
I love thee well & often when a child
Have roamd the bare brown heath a flower to find
& in the moss clad vale & wood bank wild
Have cropt the little bell flowers paley blue
That trembling peept the sheltering bush behind
When winnowing north winds cold & blealy blew
How have I joyd wi dithering hands to find
Each fading flower & still how sweet the blast
Woud bleak novembers hour Restore the joy thats past

338

SOLITUDE

Solitude I love thee well
Now the evens warning bell
Starts me oer the pasture free
To converse & talk wi thee
Wether side the woods we rove
Or sweep neath the willow grove
Wether sauntering we proceed
Cross the green or down the mead
Wether sitting down we look
On the bubbles of the brook

339

Wether curious waste an hour
Pausing oer each tasty flower
Or expounding natures spells
From the silt pick out the shells
Or as lingering by the streams
Where more sweet the music seems
Listen to the softning swells
Of some distant chiming bells
Mellowing sweetly on the breeze
Raising falling by degrees
Dying now then wakd again
In full many a witching strain
Sounding as the gale flits bye
Flats & sharps of melody
Sweet with thee to wind the rill
Sweet wi thee to climb the hill
On whose lap the bullock free
Chews his cud most placidly
Or beat sheep tracks wandering down
Oer the fallows bare & brown
Where the mole unwearied still
Roots up many a crumbling hill
& the little chimbling mouse
Knarls the dead weed for her house
While the ploughs unfeeling share
Lays full many a dwelling bare
Where the lark wi russet breast
Hind the big clod hides her nest

340

& the black snails founderd pace
Finds from noon a hiding place
Where the matted twitches run
Breaking off the scorching sun
Solitude I love thee well
Brushing thro the wilderd dell
Picking from the ramping grass
Namless blossoms as I pass
Which the dews of eve bedeck
Sweet as pearls on womans neck
Marking shepherds rou[s]d from sleep
Blundering off to fold their sheep
& the swain wi toils distrest
Hide his tools to seek his rest
While the cows wi hobbling strides
Switching slow their flye bit hides
Rubs the pastures creaking gate
Milking maids & boys to wait
As the sunshine leaves the skye
As the day light shuts her eye
O wi thee to meet the breeze
Neath the shade of awthorn trees
By the pastures wilderd round
Where the pissmire hills abound
Where the blushing fin weeds flower
Closes up at evenings hour

341

Leaving then the green behind
Narrow hoof plod lanes to wind
Oak & ash embowrd beneath
Winding to the lonly heath
Were the unmolested furze
& the burdocks clinging burs
& the briars by freedom sown
Claims the wilderd spots their own
Blest while we the scene survey
Clad in natures wild array
Swelld wi ling clad hillocks green
Suiting the disorderd scene
Haply we may rest us here
On the banishd herdsmans cheer
Where the whattld hulk is fixt
Propt some double oak betwixt
Where the swain the branches lops
& bove head wi rushes tops
While the woodbines sweet perfume
& the roses blushing bloom
Lovly cieling of the bower
Arches in & peeps a flower
While a hill of thyme so sweet
Or a mosst stone forms a seat
There as tween light hangs the eve
Sweet to watch thy bosom heave

342

Sweet to mark the darksome folds
Nights gloom in thy mantle rolls
Sweet to gaze upon thine eye
As it rolld its extacy
When thy solemn musings caught
Told thy soul absorbd in thought
When thy finley folded arm
Oer thy bosom beating warm
Wrapt thee mellancholy round
& thy ringlets wild unbound
On thy lily breasts doth lye
Like dark streaks in mornings skye
O how sweet I cannot tell
With thee at that hour to dwell
Peace & silence sits wi thee
& peace alone is heaven to me
While the moonlights infant hour
Faint gins creep to gild the bower
& the wattld hedge gleams round
Its diamond shadows oer the ground
O thou soothing solitude
From the vain & from the rude
When this silent hour is come
& I meet thy welcome home
What balm is thine to troubles deep
When on thy breast I sink to sleep

343

What bliss on evens silence flows
When thy wisht opium brings repose
& I have found thee doubly sweet
Sheltering from the noon day heat
As neath hazels I have stood
In the gloomy hanging wood
Where the sun beams filtering small
Freckling thro the branches fall
& the flapping leaf the ground
Flits its shadow round & round
Glimering where the channels wreath
Many a crooked root beneath
Unseen gliding day by day
Oer its solitary way
Smooth or rough as onward led
Where the wild weed dips its head
Murmuring dribbling drop by drop
Where dead leaves its progress stop
Winding sweet its restless way
While the frothy bubles play
Stretchd the mossy bank beside
Lye to view the random tide
Wildness I do love thee dear
In such wildernesses were
Neer an axe was heard to sound
Or a trees fall gulshd the ground
Where no clowns has chopt from thence
Bush nor stake to mend his fence
Where (as if that spot coud be)
First foot markt the ground by me

344

Sweetly still & wildly gay
Left as at creations day
But or this or that to see
I am blest if Im wi thee
& I love then too to look
For thy steps in shady nook
Where by hedge side cooly led
Brooks curl oer their sandy bed
In whose tide the clouds reflect
In whose margin flags are freckt
While the waters winding blue
Single archd brig flutter thro
Cornerd stones & pebbles round
Breaking dasht wi mellow sound
While the willow branches grey
Damps the sultry eye of day
& in wispers mildly sooth
Chafes the mossy keystone smooth
Where the banks beneath em spread
Levels in a easy bed
While the wild thymes pinky bells
Pe[r]forates reviving smells
& the breezes feather feet
Crimping oer the waters sweet
Trembling fans the sun tand cheek
& gives the comfort one woud seek
Stretching there in soft repose
Far from peace & freedoms foes
Spots so still so wild so rude
Dear to meet thee solitude

345

There wi thee to watch the ground
Every insect flitting round
Such as painted summer brings
Lady flye wi freckled wings
Watch him up the tall bent climb
And from notted flowers of thyme
Where the wood land banks are deckt
See the bee his load colect
As he turns the petals bye
Gold dust gathering on his thigh
As full many a hum he heaves
While he pats the truding leaves
Lost in many a heedless spring
Wearing home on heavy wing
Wether this or that to see
I am blest if Im wi thee
& full dear has been the hour
Spent wi in thy noon day bower
Prest wi thee thy mossy seat
O its unexpressive sweet
But as sorrows more opress
As the world does more distress
Yielding as misfortunes lower
Dulging mellancholys hour
Wishing to despise as then
Brunts of fate & scorn of men
When fates demons thus intrude
Then I seek thee solitude

346

Where the abbys height appears
Hoary neath a weight of years
Where the mouldering walls are seen
Hung wi pelitorry green
Where the steeples taper stretch
Tries the eye its length to reach
Dizzy nauntling high & proud
Top stone loosing in a cloud
Where the cross to time resignd
Creaking harshly in the wind
Crowning high the rifted dome
Points the pilgrims wisht for home
While the look fear turns away
Shuddering at its dread decay
Then let me my peace pursue
Neath the shades of gloomy yew
Dolfull hung wi mourning green
Suiting well the solemn scene
There as I may learn to scan
Mites illustrious called man
Turning there the nettles bye
Where the grave stone meets ones eye
Soon full soon to read & see
That all below is vanity
& man to me a gauling thing
Ownd creations lord & king
A minutes length a zephers breath
Sport of fate & prey of death

347

Neath the power of death the same
As wants low wormlings are to him
Tyrant to day to morrow gone
All 'stinguished only by a stone
That feign woud have the eye to know
Prides better dust is laid below
While worms like me are mouldering laid
Wi nothing set to say theyre dead
All the difference trifling thing
That notes at last the slave & king
As witherd leaves lifes bloom was stopt
That drops in autumn so they dropt
As snails wi in their painted shell
So snugly once was known to dwell
When in the schoolboys care we view
The pleasing toys of varied hue
By age or accident theyre flown
An empty shell & tenant gone
So pass we from the worlds affairs
& carless vanish from its cares
So leave wi silent long farwell
Vain life—as left the snail his shell
All this when there my eyes behold
On every stone & heap of mould
Solitude & thou art sweet
Somthing solemn tho to meet
When wi listning pause I look
Round the pillars ruind nook

348

Glooms revealing dim descryd
Ghosts companiond by thy side
Where in old deformity
Ancient arches sweepeth high
& the storms the painted pane
Growls in angry mood again
Where the isles to light unknown
Creates darkness all her own
Save the moon as on we pass
Splinters thro the broken glass
Or the torn roof patchd wi cloud
Or the crackt wall bulgd & bowd
Glimering past along the ground
Shooting solemn & profound
Lighting up the silent gloom
Just to read an ancient tomb
Oer it as it gliding creeps
We may see some abot sleeps
& as on we met[e] the isle
Daring scarce to breath the while
Soft as creeping feet can fall
Still the damp green stained wall
As the startled ghost flits bye
Mocking murmurs faintly sigh
Minding our intruding fear
Such visits are unwelcome here

349

Seemly then each hollow urn
Gentle steps our steps return
Ere so soft & ere so still
Check our breath or how we will
Listning spirits still reply
Step for step & sigh for sigh
Murmuring oer ones wearied woe
Life as once was theirs to know
Wispering to such slaves as me
A buried tale of misery—
‘We once was life ere lifes decline
‘Flesh blood & bones as like to thine
‘We knew its pains & shard its grief
‘Till death long wishd for brought relief
‘We had our hopes & like to thee
‘Hopd morrows better day to see

350

‘But like as thine our hopes the same
‘To morrows kindness never came
‘We had our tyrants een as thou
‘Our wants met many a scornful brow
‘But death laid low their wealthy powers
‘Their harmless ashes mix wi ours
‘& this vain world its pride its form
‘That treads on thee as on a worm
‘Its mighty heirs—the time shall be
‘When they as quiet sleep by thee’
O heres thy comforts solitude
When overpowering woes intrude
Then thy sad thy solemn dress
Owns the balm my soul to bless
Here I judge the world aright
Here see vain man in his own light
Learn patience in this trying hour
To gild lifes brambles wi a flower
Take pattern from the hints thoust given
& follow in thy steps to heaven

353

THE DISSAPOINTMENT

‘Ah where can he linger’ said doll wi a sigh
As bearing her milk burthen home
‘Sin he broke his vow near an hour has gone bye
‘So fair as he promisd hed come’
—Shed fain had him notic'd the loudly clapt gate
& fein calld him up to her song
But while her streatchd shade provd the omen too late
Heavy hearted she mutterd along

She lookd & she listnd & sigh followd sigh
& jealous thoughts troubld her head
The skirts of the pasture was loosing the eye
As eve her last finishing spread

354

& hope so endearing was topmost to see
& tween light so cheating the view
Every thing at a distance a bush or a tree
Her loves pleasing picture they drew

The pasture gate creekd pit a pat her heart went
Fond thrilling wi hopes pleasing pain
She certainly thought that a signal it meant
So she turnd to be cheated again
'Spectations & wishes throbd warm to her side
For soon its sweet feeling were lost
Chill damps quick ensuing when nigh she descried
Her nasty cows rubbing the post

By fancy soon tickld by hopes led astray
Again did she hope but in vain
A twitch at her sleave twas the shepherds fond way
& she lookd oer her shoulder again
Twas a bramble that catchd at her gown passing bye
Dissapointment how great is thy smart
How deep was the sorrow explaind in the sigh
Like a bramble thorn twangd thro her heart

Quite wearied she soodld along thro the dew
& oft lookd & listn'd around
& loudly she clapt eery gate she came thro'
To call her lost love to the sound

355

& when ere to rest she her buckets sat down
She[d] gingle her yokes too & fro
& her yokes she might gingle till morn—a sad lown
Ere he it seemd offerd to go

Passing maids wonderd much as she came to the town
To see her so still on her way
& neer stopt to name a young man or new gown
So much as twas usual to say
Some askd if her tongue she had lost on the plain
Others quird if she owd any spite
& short was the answers she made em again
‘Yes’ or ‘no’ & a mutterd ‘good night’

Shed cause to be silent & knew too as well
& sed to her sen passing bye
‘Dissapointments like mine if to ye theyd befell
‘Yed then be as sulky as I’
Now nigh home & roger her bosom glowd hot
& jealousys rose on her cheek
Woud be bound his delay a new sweet heart had got
& if he came now shed not speak

She sat her self down soon as got in the house
No dossity in her to stir
The cat at her presence left watching the mouse
& the milk she might lap at for her
Eat it all & she woud for she card not a pin
Shed other fish frying as then
& soon as chance offerd as she coud begin
She gun weigh her doubts to her sen

356

‘Ah the gipsey she told me my fortune last night
‘Too true have I provd what she sed
‘You love him too warmly that loves you too light’
‘& grevious she shaked her head’
‘His scorn in the lines of your hands’ she said ‘meet’
‘I was fit to drop under my cow
‘Its as plain as the nose in your face for to seet’—
I coudnt believe it till now

How coud I when now but a day or twos gone
Sin he fussed me up in the grove
& preachd like a parson as leading me on
& seemd like a saint fell in love
He smilingly bid me behold the stiff bean
How it held up the weak winding pea—
‘& so on my arm’ sed he ‘dolly may lean
‘For Ill be a prop unto thee

& oft did he shew me as proofs of his love
The gate & the stile where we came
& many a favourite tree in the grove
Where he had bin marking my name

357

& these made him staunch in my foolish esteem
But deuce take such provings forsooth
Theyre like flimsy nick nacks that pear in a dream
When the morning sun wakes wi the truth

Lord help me I little knew what he was at
I believd eery word that he spoke
& so as he vowd & he kissd me & that
Who woud ever think it a joke
But sin' hes decievd me in what he has sed
& I prove that mens vows they are vain
Tho he swore while his eyes dropt out of his head
Id never believe him again

Last week the first time I gun doubt his respect
When at market he left me behind
He made no excuses to hide his neglect
Plain proof that hed changed his mind
When I said how I loiterd in hopes he woud come
& when all my troubles he learnd
How late & how wet I was ere I got home
He neer seemd a morsel consernd

& magpies that chatterd no omen so bad
The dreams of my being a bride
Odd crows that are constantly fixt in my pad
Plain provd what bad luck woud be tide

358

The coffin spark burning my holliday gown
As nothings so certain a sigh
The knives I keep crossing when ever laid down
Where proofs of these sorrows of mine

A good for nought lobby he nettld me sore
I minded him oft when at church
How under the wenches fine bonnets hed glore
As smiling they came in the porch
Lord knows scores o' times he has made me to sin
For being so botherd & vext
Bout the parsons good preachings I card not a pin
& never once thought of the text

Like a fool wi full many a lying excuse
To see him Ive stole in the street
& drest to entice him but alls a no use
Tis folly such things to repeat
No no his behaviour a good for nought chap
Ill see no uneasiness in it
The wreath he last bought me to dress my new cap
Ill burn it to ashes this minute

‘Ill keep not a thing which I had for his sake
‘Be broken vows bad as they be
‘Full sure I may venture one promise to brake
‘Sin' hes broke a thousand wi me’—
O the proof of that love which the tear giveth birth
Where the heart undisembling does burn
Had the ignorant shepherd a known but its worth
Hed neer gen her reason to mourn

359

Thus she vented her griefs & gave ease to her sighs
Till the tinkld latch startld her dumb
& ended her tale in a pause of suprise
While hope wisperd conforts ‘hes come’
He enterd & begd shed excuse the late hour
She doubts his assertions awhile
Then as the glad sun breaks the clouds in a shower
Tears melt in a welcoming smile

Ah sad dissapointment your damp chilly pains
& all jealous doubts you impart
Description but mixes her colors in vain
To picture your horrors at heart
Gauld jealousy like as the tide ebbs to rest
Subsiding as gradually oer
Contented she smotherd her sighs on his breast
& the kiss seemd as sweet as before

SUNDAY

The sabbath day of every day the best
The poor mans happiness a poor man sings
When labour has no claim to break his rest
& the light hours flye swift on easy wings

360

What happiness this holy morning brings
How sweet its opening on his view does steal
How sweet the village bells first warning rings
& o how comfortable does he feel
When wi his family at ease he takes his early meal

While carfull wife displays her frugal hurd
& both partake in comfort tho theyre poor
While loves sweet offsprings crowd the lowly board
Their little liknesses in minature
Tho thro the week he labour does endure
& weary limbs has often heard complain
This welcome morning always brings a cure
It teems wi joys his soul to entertain
& doubly sweet does seem the pleasure after pain

Ah who can tell the bliss from labour freed
His leisure meeteth on a sunday morn
Fixt in a chair some godly book to read
Or wandering round to view the crops of corn
In best cloths fitted out & beard new shorn
Dropping adown in some warm shelterd dell
Wi six days labour weak & weary worn
Listning around each distant chiming bell
That on the softning breeze mellodiously doth swell

& oft he takes his family abroad
In short excursions oer the field & plain
Marking each little object on his road
An insect sprig of grass & ear of grain
Endeavouring thus most simply to mentain
That the same power that bids the mite to crawl
That browns the weat lands in their summer stain
That power which formd the simple flower with all
Formd all that lives & grows upon this earthly ball

361

The good mans childern neer are seen to lurch
About wi others itching after crimes
But all are made to clean em selves for church
In readiness gen the bells summons chimes
To hear whats good & know their god betimes
The smooth the scripture says the way to woe
& tother like a waste of foreign climes
On goodness path tho briars & brambles grow
The end is bliss & he oft preaches to them so

The bell when knowld its summons once & twice
Now chimes in conscert calling all to prayers
The rustic boy still ankering a'ter vice
That bout religion little knows or cares
Scrambs up his marbles & by force repairs
Tho dallying on while the last bell has rung—
The poor man takes his book devoutly there
& often as he walks the graves among
Looks on the untravelld dust from whence his being sprung

The service ended boys their play resumes
In some snug corner from the parsons view
& where the searching clerk neer peeping comes
There they their games & rural sports pursue
Wi chock & marbles wearing sunday thro
The good man seeks his cottage hearth again
& there to read the text he does presume
From which the parsons good discourse was taen
& wells he can to them its meaning does explain

Hail sacred sabbath hail thou poor mans joy
Thou oft has been a comfort to my care
When faint & weary wi the weeks employ
I met thy presence in my corner chair

362

Musing & bearing up wi troubles there
Thrice hail thou heavenly boon by gods decree
At first creation pland that all might share
Both man & beast some hours from labour free
To offer thanks to him whose mercy sent us thee

This day the field a sweeter clothing wears
A sunday scene looks brighter to the eye
& hastning on to monday mornings cares
Wi double speed the wingd hour gallops bye
How swift the sun streaks down the western skye
Scarcly percievd till it begins to wane
When plough boys mark his setting wi a sigh
Dreading the mondays 'proaching hours wi pain
When capons restless calls awake to toil again

As the day closes on its peace & rest
The godly man sits down & takes a book
To close it in a manner deemd the best
& for a suiting chapter doth he look
That may for comfort & a guide be took
He reads of patient job his trials thrall
How men are troubld when by god forsook
& prays wi david to bear up wi all
When sleep shuts up the scene soft as the night dews fall

363

A LOOK AT THE HEAVENS

O who can witness with a carless eye
The countless lamps that light an evening skye
& not be struck wi wonder at the sight
To think what mighty power must there abound
That burns each spangle wi a steady light
& guides each hanging world its rolling round
What multitudes my misty eyes have found
The countless numbers speak a deiety
In numbers numberless the skyes are crownd
& still theyre nothing what my sight can see
When sience searching thro her aiding glass
In seeming blanks to me can millions trace
While millions still that every art surpass
Still brighten up through out eternal space
O power almighty whence these beings shine
All wisdoms lost in comprehending thine

364

TO AN ANGRY BEE

Malicious inscet little vengful bee
Wi venom sting thourt wirling round & round
A harmless head that neer meant wrong to thee
& friendships hand it is thoud wish to wound
Cool thy revenge & judge thy foes aright
The hardnd nettherd & the sweet toothd boy
Thy moss rapt treasures if but in their sight
Soon woud they all thy honied lives destroy
But delve the cowslip peep in labour free
& dread no pilferer of thy hurds in me
Thus man to man oft takes a friend for foe
& spurns a blessing when its in his power
Mistakes real happiness for worldly woe
Crops sorrows weed & treads on pleasures flower

365

JEWEL OF ALL

Ye gay blinking daiseys a blooming so sweetly
Ye hedges high honourd in shielding the rose
That smiles on each gazer a beauty compleatly
Gay thorns purest blossoms ye summer of snows
To say ye warnt fair woud exceedingly wrong ye
Tho your feignd competitions for rival are small
Since a gay rival blossom is blooming among ye
That blossoms among ye the jewel of all

Its charms first recievd the salute of the morning
& beauties first kiss was imprinted wi dew
Perfections first smile at the instant adorning
When melting in blushes it fell in my view

366

Rich the first charm of the unfolding blossom
Tho outwardly fading the values but small
As the virgins first love throbbing sweet thro her bosom
The sweets of this blosoms the jewel of all

& trembling in rapture around the fair blossom
The love smitten breezes did wantonly dye
& tho I gazd carless a wish from my bosom
To be its possesor escapd in a sigh
O the thrill of that moment no words can be naming
Which sweet recollection will ever recall
When I stretchd out my hand to embrace it exclaiming
Of all that Ive seen thourt the jewel of all

So sweet & so simple so artlessly blooming
The charms of simplicity all must aprove
So homly in cloathing to pride unasuming
Was I born wi out feeling twoud warm me to love
To say that I pluckt it let that be for granted
Its charms I adore tho in value but small
Wi in my hearts garden the blushing gems planted
To bloom in its station the jewel of all

& still be thou blooming the rival around thee
Thy virgin sweets scent the soft wings of the gale
My bosoms thy shelter no mortal shall wound thee
Thou queen of my heart & the pride of the vale

367

O dear is that face natures so richly painted
Tho the outside appearence of beautys but small
When compard to that gem which deciet never tainted
That heart undefileds' the jewel of all

TO ---

[When that the even is hanging so glooming]

When that the even is hanging so glooming
& the grey mist is surrounding the urn
& the streakt woodbine night[s] bosom perfuming
Closes its blossoms till mornings return

368

Mary be thou wi thy milking delaying
Hints are loves language thou tellst what they mean
In the sweet gloom of the welcome night straying
To kiss oer our raptures in silence unseen

Now the night bird at his singing is seated
While the pale moon seems delighted to hear
& thy swain roams wi one wish uncompleated
The pleasure of meeting his mary so dear
Neath thy old spotted cow love be thou singing
Chanting thy love ballads over wi glee
Sweet tho the nightingales songs the wood ringing
Sweeter will thine be as I listen thee

Now the bent flower neath eves burthen is laden
& the ripe rose on its stem doth recline
Just as Ive seen the flushd cheek of the maiden
Bowing unwilling a kiss to resign
Down in the valley do thou me be meeting
Thy first broken promise let me never see
Still let thy fond heart in sincerity beating
Be free from all sighs but whats breathed for me

369

& She Vowd She Woud Never Be Mine

SONG

Sweet in the garden blooming where none presume compare
The lilys white is pure & the roseys red is gay
But when in nellys bosom love planteth it there
The liley it is sullied & the rosey fades away

In form & shape an angel in beauty a queen
In robes of simplicity so pure
Thrice happy is the swain who her charms have never seen
His heart it is only secure

I wisht when I met her her heart was in my power
But I sighd as I thought ont agen
That it woud be a wonder so lovly a flower
Shoud never be noticd till then

She smild on another on me she did frown
All hopes of the maid I resign
Her eye was on her lover on me it scowled down
& she vowd she woud never be mine

370

TO A CITY GIRL

Sweet mary tho nor sighs nor pains
Impassiond suit does prove
My simple song the truth neer feigns
To court thee to my love
I ask thee from thy bustling life
Where nought can pleasing prove
From city noise & care & strife
O come & be my love

But if preferd the city noise
To country solitude
If all its revels are thy joys
Think not my offers rude
Think not I tempt thee as it where
Thy mirth to dissaprove
Or want to bind thee lonly here
But to my homly love

If harmless mirth delight thine eyes
Then make my cot thy home
The country bounds in rural joys
& wispers thee to come

371

Here fiddles urge thy nimble feet
Adown the dance to move
Here pleasures in continuance meet
O come & be my love

If musics charms that all delights
Have witcheries for thee
The country then my love invites
In echod melody
Here thrushes chant their m[a]drigalls
Here breaths the ringed dove
Soft as days closing murmur falls
O come & be my love

If natures prospects woods & vales
Thy visits can entice
The countrys scenes thy coming hails
To meet a paradise
Here pride can raise no barring wall
To hide the flower & grove
Here fields are gardens free for all
O come & be my love

& music mirth & all combine
To make my cot thy home
To tempt thee mary to be mine
Then why delay to come
Here night birds sing my love to sleep
Here sweet thy dreams shall prove
Here in my arms shall mary creep
O come & be my love

372

MAID OF WARE

Oft rosey lips my heart has taen
& throbbing bosoms lily dye
Ive often turnd to view again
& scarce coud pass wi out a sigh
But when the world was wider seen
These soon diminishd neath my care
As chance presented beautys queen
At the bull in[n] the maid of ware

Wi looks that always wore a smile
& dimpld cheeks of rosey hue
Wi eyes that might a saint beguile
She bustld in the coaches view
Of those behind theres some might think
Most worthy of their thoughts & care
But when I took the glass to drink
My bosoms health beat maid of ware

Drove off again still memorys eye
Behind in lingering mood delayd
& many a wishful look & sigh
Hung lingering round the waiting maid

373

Ah fare thee well love fare thee well
My last look may be musing there
To see thee more I cannot tell
Ah fare thee well sweet maid of ware

The feeling bosom best can tell
When passing beauties charm the eye
That weighty word of fare thee well
& its heart easing frend the sigh
To meet again ones partings sore
But this the hopful heart can bare
Compard to that to meet no more—
Adieu for ever maid of ware

Thou lovly lass Ill think on thee
When many miles & days apart
Then lovly lass thy name shall be
The sweetest part'ner of my heart
When love beholds a beauty cheek
& warms my soul to wander there
Thy form wi' memorys tongue shall speak
& boast the rival queen at ware

The feeling bosom best can feel
When passing beauties charm the eye
When just a glancing look we steal
& pass unknown for ever bye
Ah now Ive reached my native vale
Tho love of thees unlawful care
When ere I warm my cares wi ale
My bosoms health is maid of ware

374

SUMMER TINTS

How sweet Ive wanderd bosom deep in grain
When summers mellowing pencil sweeps his shades
Of ripening tinges oer the checkerd plain
Light tawny oat lands wi their yellow blades
& bearded corn like armies on parade
Beans lightly scorchd that still preservd their green
& nodding lands of wheat in bleachy brown
& streaking banks where many a maid & clown
Contrasts a sweetness to the rural scene
Forming the little haycocks up & down
While oer the face of nature softly swept
The lingering wind mixing the brown & green
So sweet that shepherds from their bowers have crept
& stood delighted musing oer the scene

[If beauty be fading it charmeth the heart]

If beauty be fading it charmeth the heart
If beauty be worthless tis what we adore
The mind may be vallued but cannot impart
The sweets of an eye or a lip unto love

375

Give me the sweets of a lip to commend
Give me the glance of an eye to aprove
Let what will of evil their bosoms atend
I cannot resist the sweet passion of love

Ah slander long raild at the rosey facd jem
That chance in my rambles delightedly found
Its weakness long trembld to hear em condemn
& great the emotions that wrankld the wound
But still from her lip & her cheek & her eye
Coud trifles like these bid my passions decline
When I saw the tear start & I heard the deep sigh
Ah I vowd (& who woudnt) ‘none else shoud be mine’

ON TASTE

—Taste is from heaven
A inspiration nature cant bestow
Tho natures beautys where a taste is given
Warms the ideas of the soul to flow
With that enchanting 'thusiastic glow

376

That throbs the bosom when the curious eye
Glances on beautious things that give delight
Objects of earth or air or sea or sky
That bring the very senses in the sight
To relish what it sees—but all is night
To the gross clown—natures unfolded book
As on he blunders never strikes his eye
Pages of lanscape tree & flower & brook
Like bare blank leaves he turns unheeded bye

JENNY YOUNG

Ye muses in the green wood shene
That never dreampt of helcons spring
That never knew what parnuss means
Asist your humble bard to sing
In beautys aid my bosom warms
Tis beautys heir that begs the song
O lend your aid to sing the charms
That grace the name of Jenny Young

Her eyes are like the spring so clear
Her face is fresher then the rose
& as its guarded by its briar
May virtue guard her from her foes

377

Her lips are like the autumn fruit
On the autumnal branches hung
Ye muse[s] tune my oaten lute
& let me sing of Jenny Young

Ive saw the sun rise morning glow
Ive watchd the rose buds opening bloom
Ive markd the thorn trees purest snow
Mixt in the woodbines sweet perfume
Ive seen in red vermillion warm
The fruit on autumns tresses hung
But never did I see the charm
To please like those of Jenny Young

Ive heard the linnet on the plains
Ive list the robins sweetest tune
Ive heard the wood larks sweetest strains
Hailing the full blown rose in June
The night birds song my ears have met
When woods in melody have rung
But never did I hear as yet
A voice to equal Jenny Young

Let soldiers wish for wars in vain
& parsons larger liveings pray
& farmers meet to raise their grain
& hope a brisker market day
Gi me my wish & I am blest
The pleasing subject of my song
To fate & chance Ill leave the rest
& fly to bliss & Jenny Young

378

TO SLEEP

Lost on a Journey at Night

Not on the feather bed nor the down pillow
Sleep I solicit thy aid
Nor in the sad dying sighs of the willow
Murmur the scorn of a maid

But on the wild were the rude tree is spreading
Its sad sorry shelter my home
Where rushes unseen & the grass forms my bedding
Sweet sleep I coud wish thee to come

Here hermit like my blind eyes Id feign close em
While all the worlds bedded & blest
O sleep be so kind as to lend me thy bosom
& lay my head weary to rest

379

I LOVE THY SHADE

To a Wild Arbour

I love thy shade
Wild arbour on the rude heath growing
Were neer a hand its care bestowing
Trains the woodbine now its blowing
Wild arbour on the rude heath growing
I love thy shade

I love thy shade
Now thy rose & woodbines blooming
& tho schoolboys rude presuming
Robs thy boughs of their perfuming
When thy bowers no longer blooming
Ill love thy shade

I love thy shade
By the tastless clown unheeded
When the moonlight revels leaded
Fays thy boughs have archd & beeded
By the tastless clown unheeded
I love thy shade

380

SONG

[Timid as the bird complains]

Timid as the bird complains
To his love in hopful strains
So to thee I tell my pains
O let me love thee mary

Truly as the turtle dove
Courts his mistress in the grove
Do I own to thee my love
O let me love thee mary

As the ivy clasps the tree
Twining round in extacy
Wi my arms encircling thee
O let me love thee mary

As the little bird is prest
By its lover on their nest
Take me to thy throbbing breast
& say thou lovst me mary

381

SUMMER MORNING

I love to peep out on a summers morn
Just as the scouting rabbit seeks her shed
& the coy hare squirts nestling in the corn
Frit at the bowd ear tottering oer her head
& blundering pheasants that from covert spring
Their short sleep broke by early trampling feet
Making one sturtle wi their rustling wings
As thro the boughs they seek more safe retreat
The little flower begemd around wi drops
That shine at sunrise like to burnishd gold
So sweet to view the milk maid often stops
& wonders much such spangles to behold
The hedger too admires em deck the thorn
& thinks he sees no beauties like the morn

382

SONNET

[In shades obscure & gloomy warmd to sing]

In shades obscure & gloomy warmd to sing
By natures fancied charms tho oft I be
Nipt & deprest by povertys cold sting
Still must I sing tho few to notice me
Kirk white had friends a warm & fostering spring
Was Southeys charitable stoop from fame
To help him on & tempt his muse to sing
& wi his name to guard the weakly jem
The waves of poverty tis mine to stem
Wants future threatings I wi tears can see
Theres few to praise but many to condemn
The artless gushes of wild poesy
A labouring clown a wild unculterd stem
No Southeys hand will lend its help to me

383

JOYS OF YOUTH

How pleasing simplest recollections seem
Now summer comes it warms me to look back
In the sweet happiness of youths wild track
Varied & fleeting as a summer dream
Here have I pausd upon the sweeping rack
That specks like wool flocks thro the purple skye
Here have I carless stooped down to catch
The meadow flower that entertaind my eye
& as the butterflye went wirring bye
How anxious for its settling did I watch
& oft long purples on the waters brink
Have tempted me to wade in spite of fate
To pluck the flowers—Oh to look back & think
—What pleasing pains such simple joys create

384

WILD NOSGAY

The yellow lamb toe I have often got
Sweet creeping oer the bauks in summer time
& totter grass in many a trembling nott
& robd the mol hill of its bed of thyme
& oft wi anxious feelings woud I climb
The waving willow row a stick to trim
To reach the water lileys tempting flower
That on the surface of the pool did swim
Ive stretchd & tryd vain schemes for many an hour
& scrambld up the awthorns prickly bower
For ramping woodbines & blue bitter sweet
Still summer blooms these flowers apear agen
But ah the questions usless to repeat
When will the feelings come I witnessd then

385

SABBATH WALKS

Upon the sabbath sweet it is to walk
Neath wood side shelter of oaks spreading trees
Or by a hedge row track a padded balk
Or stretch neath willows on the meadow leas
Listning delighted hums of passing bees
& curious pausing on the blossoms head
& mark the spider at his labour free
Spin[n]ing from bent to bent his silken thread
& labouring ants by carful nature led
To make the most of summers plentious stay
& lady cow beneath its leafy shed
Calld when I mixt wi childern clock-a-clay
Pruning its red wings on its pleasing bed
Glad like my self to shun the heat of day

386

SONNET

[There is a charm which poesy lays hold of nought beside]

There is a charm which poesy lays hold of nought beside
Can ere atta[i]n to—its superior powers
Maketh the meanest trifle dignified
Even on deserts she can plant her flowers
Her feeling sweetness soft as honey showers
Upon the senses unpercievd does steal
Listning the magic sounds—the mellow close
What grosser minds can neer attempt to feel
Such thrilling minglings in the bosom glows
Of soul & song together as it flows
Enrapturd sweetness all the frame devours
Tis natures essence in its purest state
Who when her charms like womans looks oer powers
Can echo back the joys such scenes create

TO AN EARLY BUTTERFLYE

Thrice welcome here again thou fluttering thing
That gaily seeks about the opening flower
& opes & shuts thy gaudy spangld wing
Upon its bosom in the sunny hour

387

Fond gratfull thoughts from thy appearence spring
To see thee flye warms me once more to sing
That universal care who [h]apt thee down
& did thy winter dwelling please to give
That beings smiles on me dampt winters frown
& snatchd me from the storm & bid me live
& now agen the welcome seasons come
Tis thine & mine in natures gratful pride
To thank that good who snatchd us from the tomb
& stood our prop when all gave way beside

MAY-NOON

How sweet it is when suns get warmly high
In the mid noon as mays first cowslip springs
& the young cuckoos mellow ditty sings
To wander out & take ones book & lye
Neath some low pasture bush by giggling springs
That shakes the sprouting flag as crimpling bye
Or when the sunshine freckles on the eye
Thro the half clothed branches in the woods
Where [h]airy leaves of woodbines scrambling nigh

388

Are earliest venturers to unfold their buds
& little rippling runnels curl their floods
Bathing the primrose peep strawberry wild
& little cuckoos creeping from their hoods
With the sweet season like their bard beguild

SONNET

[Give me the gloomy walk in summer time]

Give me the gloomy walk in summer time
That intersects the woods where nature weaves
Her bowers at will that close encumberd climb
Dark over head their many mingling leaves
While curious anxiousness the bosom heaves
The hidden beautys of the shade to find
That in the negligence of summer lives
Each herb leaf noting of peculear kind
& many a flower & many a namless weed
Where eye scarce marks em ere theyre run to seed
& where the mossy stulp invites to rest
& woodbines up the hazels stem proceed
Drop down & muse wi' in ones shelterd nest
Or from ones pocket take a book & read

389

SUMMER EVENING

How pleasant when the heat of day is bye
& seething dew empurples round the hill
Of the horison sweeping wi the eye
In easy circles wander were we will
While oer the meadows little fluttering rill
The twittering sunbeam weakens cool & dim
& busy hum of flyes is hushd & still
How sweet the walks by hedgrow bushes seem
On this side wavey grass on that the stream
While dog rose woodbine & the privet spike
On the young gales their rural sweetness teem
With yellow flag flowers rustling in the dyke
Each mingling into each a ceasless charm
On every eye that natures sweets can warm

WIDOWERS SIGH—

OLD SONG ALTERD (a)

Winters gone wi looks so saddend
Spring her tyrant is unurnd
Every heart but mine is gladdend
Every love but mine returnd

390

Birds are singing on the tree
Flowers are springing on the lea
Every heart but mine is gladdend
Every love but mine returnd

Sweet was hopes the spring caressing
Nature now has ceasd to mourn
All but me has met the blessing
When to me will bliss return
Colds the night without a friend
Longs the road without an end
All but me has met the blessing
Love & spring will neer return

WIDOWERS LAMENT (b)

Age yellows my leaf with a daily decline
& nature turns sick wi decay
Short is the thread on lifes spool that is mine
& few are my wishes to stay
The bud that has seen but the sun of an hour
When storms overtake it may sigh
But fruit that has weatherd lifes sunshine & shower
Drops easy & gladly to dye

391

The prop of my age & the balm of my pain
Wi the length of lifes years has declind
& like the last sheep of the f[l]ock on the plain
She leaves me uneasy behind
I think of the days when our hearts they was one
& she of my youth was the pride
I look for the prop of my age—but its gone
& I long to drop down by her side

TO AN INFANT DAUGHTER

Sweet gem of infant fairy flowers
Thy smiles on lifes unclosing hours
Like sun beams lost in summer showers
They wake my fears
When reason knows its sweets & sours
Theyll change to tears

God help thee little sensless thing
Thou daisey like of early spring
Of ambushd winters hornet sting
Hast yet to tell
Thou knowst not what tomorrows bring—
I wish thee well

392

But thou art come & soon or late
Tis thine to meet the frowns of fate
The harpy grin of envys hate
& mermaid smiles
Of worldly follys luring bait
That youth beguiles

& much I wish what ere may be
The lot my child that falls to thee
Nature neer may let thee see
Her glass betimes
But keep thee from my failings free
No itch at ryhmes

L---d help thee in thy coming years
If thy mad fathers picture 'pears
Predominant—his feeling fears
& gingling starts
Id freely now gi vent to tears
To ease my heart

May thou unknown to ryhming bother
Be ignorant as is thy mother
& in thy manners such another
Save sins nigh guest
& then wi scaping this & tother
Thou mayst be blest

L---d knows my heart I wish thee much
& may my feeling ach[e]s & such
The pains I meet in follys clutch
Be never thine—
Child its a tender string to touch
That sounds ‘thourt mine’

393

IMITATION OF ‘SAD WAS THE HOUR’ &C &C

Want pinchd me keenly & scarce was hard labour
Dear are the ties that bind childern & wife
So I pluckt up my courage & wi a near neighbour
I sought for sea prizes in risk of my life—
O the last farwell Ill never forget her
How she wisht me to stay poor disconsolate cre'ture
But burnt wi the hopes our bad fortune to better
I left unto providence childern & wife

New was our toil a strange sight was the ocean
Warm glowd the hopes for my childern & wife
Soon was the ship which we haild put in motion
I sought for their confort at risk of my life
Crusht wi old troubles new woes coudnt find me
Tho tear drops half startld woud often remind me
To look on the day of long sorrow behind me
Were I left unto providence childern & wife

Battle came on—& successes! attended
Prizes I gaind for my childern & wife
O how I felt when the battle was ended
& found Id done well at the risk of my life

394

Ah what a joy bad misfortune to loose em
O what a moment griefs doubtings to close em
Sweet was the long hope now rip'd in this bosom
Sharing my toils wi my childern & wife

Eager I sought for my babes & their mother
Strong was the hopes in my childern & wife
But o my last woe—can there be such another
While I thought em all blest at the risk of my life
I sought em in vain—O the woe past expressing
From want & from woe, to relieve the distressing
I found the cold grave had extended its blessing
& relievd in my abscence my childern & wife

395

BALLAD

[Of all the days in memoreys list]

Of all the days in memoreys list
Those motley banishd days
Some over hung wi sorrows mist
Some gilt wi hopful rays
There is a day 'bove all the rest
That wears a pleasing sound
There is a day I love the best
When patty first was found

When I did look upon her eye
& first her charms I met
Theres many a day gone heedless bye
But that Ill neer forget
I met my love beneath the tree
I helpd her oer the stile
The very shade is dear to me
That blest me wi' her smile

Strange to the world my artless fair
But artless as she be
She found the witching art when there
To win my heart from me

396

& all the days the year can bring
As sweet as they may prove
Therll neer come one like that I sing
Which found the maid I love

POOR SOLDIER

O long I have fought for my country & king
& now am returnd for to beg
Robd of the fruits which my labour did bring
By the loss of a arm & a leg
In pity dont turn me away from your door
Nor linger my tale to believe
A crust will but little diminish your store
A crust hunger'll gladly recieve

Ive beat the rude storm & Ive fought wi' the brave
Ive stood where the valiant have fell
Ive saw horrors glory hapt up in his grave
& tales of long sorrow coud tell
But pity neer drives me away from her door
Nor questions if sorrow decieves
Compasion soon spares me a crust from her store
—A crust hunger gladly recieves

O Life thourt a burthen I wish thee away
A cripple & loaded wi years
My Sorrow[s] are much—do beli[e]ve what I say
—‘Yes I believe all in thy tears
In pity thourt welcome to beg at my door
& deeply my bosom does grieve
To tell thee a crust is the height of my store
A crust thou art glad to recieve’

397

[O days of youth to me ye are so dear]

O days of youth to me ye are so dear
My bosom holds your memory so sweet
Ten thousand times I coud your charms repeat
Wispering so rapturdly in memorys ear
O ye are passing sweet—the meanest thing
That childhood occupyd wi in its year
When ere it strikes me now is more then dear
O happy times when in the smiling spring
I roamd a school boy in the sunshine hour
& chast the butterfly from flower to flower
What feelings on my memory ye fling
What mingling mixing thrills of joy & pain
Ten thousand times I coud your pleasures sing
& then leave joys to sing & sing again

[Who that looks upon thee love]

Who that looks upon thee love
But loves thy rosey face
Who that meets such beauty love
But wishes to embrace
Who where fate bewoes 'em love
Lifes troubles to endure
Pillowd on thy bosom love
But what coud find a cure

Let fate frown upon me love
Gi' me but thy smile
Lifes load crushing on me love
Thy support the while

398

All the world tho foes my love
Be but thou my friend
Here shoud troubles close my love
Here shoud sorrows end

Thy bosom tenant pure my love
To me that gem resign
My anguish woudst thou cure my love
Say but thy heart is mine
Claspt wi in thy arms my love
This life's despair is oer
Posesst of both thy charms & love
Id ask of fate no more

SONNET

[I hear the read breasts faint & feeble note]

I hear the read breasts faint & feeble note
As on the thorn he prunes his drooping wing
His song scarce warbles from his wispering throat
He sings like one thats little cheerd to sing
Ah little bird thy song is like my sigh
It warbles not on hapiness to come
Its no prophetic news of summer nigh
Its not excited by the daisys bloom
The Sad reverse thy songs & solem dirge
That rings the dying year its passing bell
As friendship bends oer death[s] departing virge
& weeping takes his leave farwell farwell
Still read breast dear to me thy mournful lay
That mourns the memory of past pleasures day

399

TO THE LASS OF THE VALLEY

(UNDER A CLOUD)

Ah lovley flower round thee the storm is brewing
& my once ‘rose bud's’ opening into ruin
When each leaf fades that gave such hope in blooming
& sweets mun blight that once were so perfuming
& all destroyd by thoughtless amrous Jonneys teasing
Who saw thee once so artless gay & pleasing
Thy beauty form whose songs so often tell on
Thy virtues praisd so much but flesh so failing

Still look thou up sweet girl above thy sorrow
The tempest rains to day & clears to morrow
If wide mouths cant be shut why thou must bear em
As ho[r]ns may chance to bud & I mun wear em
If fate condemn me poor it makes no matter
Bad news no reason why we be no better
So wanting all which thee to me Inherits
My many failings & thy injurd merits
Wi little less to say on that or tother

The common weeds of every gazers freedom
Have nothing left to value or to feed em
But thou lovd bud thy every sweet uncurling
While vices evil eye its darts were hurling

400

Thou still hast beauty every fate prevading
Now every leaf neath blight[s] black cloud is fading
Thou still hast tempting charms that leave the[e] never
When the flowers gone to luv the stem for ever

BALLADS

[While the sun is wearing home]

While the sun is wearing home
Milkmaids wi their buckets come
Chanting many a roundelay
Of luvs mishaps in early day
How lord gregorys fickle love
Two young maidens ends did prove
As the one with jealous part
Fair as driven snow is seen
‘Stabd the brown girl to the heart
Who seemed the most her luv to win’
While woods in eccho oft reply
Young barnwell oer the hill so high
& snug behind the hiding tree
I listen sweet the melody
Loveing much old ballads chiming
Quaint expressions unto ryhming
Plaintive notes & pleasing swell
I love the ancient ballad well

401

DRINKING SONG

Push round the glass fill it up to the top
& wash away trouble & pain
& when the old tankard has draind its last drop
We'll go the same over again
So stan not for money the first that does fail
While anys got 6d shall borrow
The String round y'r purses & shout the ‘Best ale’
Drink away & be free from all Sorrow

When nature found methods for knocking up man
Breathing life in the dust o' the earth
He needed no liquor to fill up his can
No Sorrow attended his birth
But when evil woman wi man play'd the deuce
& Nick did her maidens head borrow
Then nature for's comfort squeze out the grape guice
So drink boy & stifle y'r Sorrow

Push push round the glasses to fail is a sin
Tak y'r gorum & flood out y'r pain
& when our old tankard sounds hollow within
Its go the same over again

402

Stan not for chink for the first that does fail
While's comrade has 6d shall borrow
So string round y'r purses & shout for good ale
Drink on & keep free from all Sorrow

BALLAD

[Gi me the life of the Villager man]

Gi me the life of the Villager man
His whol' stock o treasure his health
His life & his labour shall fill up my span
& a fig for the world & its wealth

Tho rich men ha comforts we cant be denying
Still gi them the praise they deserve
When fate frowns & gi's the coin wings to be flying
They cant stoop to work but mun starve
Then gi' &c

The Kings on their thrones be as blest as they may be
Theyre oft known to sit upon thorns
& as oft the rich booby wis fat lusty lady
Meets anguish in budding o horns
So gi' &c

403

EXTEMPORE ON AN ALE WIFES OVER BOILD MEAT

‘Ah thank god for this twill go down when digested’
Said the ale wife as excuse when her meat shed oerboild it
‘Ah god sent it good enough as chewing requested
‘If the devil hadnt sent yer damnd fat hore to spoil it

THE LINGERING ROSE

Dwindling rose that lingers weary
When the rest are past away
On the autumns bough so dreary
Far from summers welcome day
Thou of lifes last hope reminds me
That still opes its flower to me
Rising from the wreck behind me
Suns of better days to see

404

Hermit bud short pleasures bless thee
All thou seemly dwell upon
Rising storms will soon undress thee
Soon thy beauty will be gone
Far off joys appear the sweetest
Thou in bloom for such may steal
& now autumns joy thou meetest
Dissapointment breaks the seal

Such is life its joyous bosom
Dwells upon a distant scene
Till like thee its hopfull blossom
Dies delusions blight between
So the summer suns conclusion
Sets in gold from fancys sight
Till the ending wild delusion
Leaves us in the damps of night

[O I sings the top name of all salleys]

O I sings the top name of all salleys
Theres none bears her image I vow
& hadnt she hid in our valleys
Shed sure bin a lady ere now
Theres no flower nigh home or in far land
So blooming a blossom can be
Shes the topknotting bunch of the garland
Nor wax work a'nt fairer then she

Paring snows to her skin they are dull to't
Shes an angels outside if not more
The rose near her cheek shines a fool to't
Sweet salleys the wench I adore

405

Her lips swell wi namless delight aye
Whoever beholds must be won
& paring dew drops to her bright eye
Is like blinking moons to the sun

& as Im a clown & a sinner
Her favour if I coud get in
& reach any scheme that woud win her
Id value not hardships a pin
& I call her names sweet as honey
My ducky my darling & dove
But maids now adays without money
Are not to be weedld by love

Toil I woud till Id gotten a bow-back
To earn all the gainings I coud
& turn I woud sweep or a shoe black
If that way Ill do ony good
The waxwork of wenches is salley
All conforts for her Id resign
For lifes but a brass fardings value
Wi out the sweet wench will be mine

406

ANOTHER

[Away wi the puling of asses]

Away wi the puling of asses
Such foolishness Ise never bears
To sob & sigh over the lasses
As children wine over their prayers
No Gi' me the boy wi a true soul
That loves women next to good ale
Wi out stoop[ing] to kissing their shoe soal
Or dye if addresses shoud fail

Ding we wool hearts of a strap black
The Wimsies of woman to please
While stout hearted sons of the knapsack
Stick up for such trifles as these
One boy with his red coat & feather
Does more then a dozen of clowns
He crazes whole hamlets together
& wives hardly keep within bounds

When I wore my lace & a red coat
I needed no sweethearts—not I
A look of ones eye tho I sed nought
Woud keep me in constant supply
& at e[v]rey fair we was stopping
Our dresses so bumpsious & gay
Set scores a clowns noses adropping
By tempting their honeys away

& now Im returnd from the rackets
Of Soldiers rare frolics & fun
& lost all the power of gilt jackets
By which many maids have bin won

407

Ill yield to my loss like a true soul
& prize women next to good ale
But neer stoop to kissing their shoe soal
Nor die now adresses does fail

LABOURERS SOLILOQUY ON DEAD DOBBIN

What time concludes the ploughmans many broils
& the bright plough share worn with many toils
In the unfinishd furrow lies at boon
A glittering miror to the rays of moon
& weary horses from their tackle freed
At upheapd cribs or racks are left to feed
Poor labouring nat an old & hardy clown
Who had thro life turnd many a furrow down
& held the plough thro many a weary morn
By labour living & to labour born
Oer the bare pasture he in sorrow hied
Were worn out dobbin tother day had dyd
A worthy favourite claimd his tender sighs
Now left the prey of crows & chattering pyes
His mangld carcass usfull now no more
In mournful musings nathan bended oer
Past reccolection on his memory sprung
When he & dobbin both were stout & young
Full many a yoking they together knew
When both were prizd for what their strength coud do
& like old friends a parting tear was shed

408

SONG

[Mary the day of loves pleasures has been]

Mary the day of loves pleasures has been
& the day is oerclouded & gone
These eyes all their fullness of pleasure has seen
What they never again shall look on
The sun has oft risen & shrunk from the heaven
& flowers with the night hath been wet
& many a smile on anothers been given
Since the first smile of mary was met

& eyes have been won with thy charms when thou smiled
As ripe blossoms tempting the bee
& kisses the sweets of thy lips have defiled
Since last they breathd heaven on me
Their honeys first tasting was lovly & pleasant
But others have rifld the cell
Love sickens to think of the past & the present
Bidding all that was Mary farwell

The soft blush of rose blossoms shortly endure
Tho sweet in its unbudding jem
& love in long abscence may often keep pure
But jealousy blighteth the stem
We look oer the doubts of our minds & we sicken
& hope what we think is a dream
We turn to the past & loves Jealousys quicken
We cannot first pleasures redeem

409

The sun will rise bright tho in night it be set
& the dew drop from blossoms shall sever
But the doubtfulness mary thats rose since we met
Is pain to this bosom for ever
The beauty of things raises constant desire
The jem rarely scapeth the view
On the doubts of another first loves doth expire
& biddeth false mary adieu

THE WILD FLOWER NOSGAY

In lifes first years as on a mothers breast
When nature nursd me in her flowery pride
I culld her bounty such as seemed best
& made my garlands by some hedgrow side
With pleasing eagerness the mind reclaims
From black oblivions shroud such artless scenes
& cons the calender of childish names
With simple joy when manhood intervenes

From the sweet time that springs young joys are born
& golden catkins deck the sallow tree
Till summers blue caps blossom mid the corn
& autumns rag wort yellows oer the lea

410

I roamd the fields about a happy child
& bound my posies up with rushey ties
& laughd & mutterd oer my visions wild
Bred in the brain of pleasures extasies

Crimp frilled daisey bright bronze butter cup
Freckt cows lip peeps gilt wins of mornings dew
& hooded aron early sprouting up
Ere the white thorn bud half unfolds to view
Wi eager joy each filld my playfull hand
& wan hued Lady smocks that love to spring
'Side the swamp margin of some plashy pond
With all the blooms that early aprils bring

The jaundice'd tincturd primrose sickly sere
Mid its broad curdl'd leaves of mellow green
Hemmd in with relics of the parted year
The mournfull wrecks of summers that has been
Dead leaves of ash & oak & hazel tree
The constant covering of all woody land
With tiney vi'lets creeping plentiously
That one by one enticd my patient hand

As shadowy aprils suns & showers did pass
& summers wild profusions plentious grew
Hiding the spring flowers in long weeds & grass
What meads & copses woud I wander through
When on the waters op'd the lily buds
& fine long purples shadowd in the lake
When pu[r]ple bugles peeped in the woods
Neath darkest shades that boughs & leaves coud make

411

Then did I wear days many hours away
In gathering blooms of seemly sweetest kinds
Scrambling for blossoms of the white thorn may
Ere they fell victims to unfeeling winds
& twisting woodbines & the flusht briar rose
How sweet remembrance on the mind doth rise
As they bowd arching were the runnel flows
To think how oft I waded for the prize

The ragged robins by the spinney lake
& flag flower bunches deeper down the flood
& snugly hiding neath the featherd brake
Full many a blue bell found & cuckoo bud
& old mans beard that wreathd along the hedge
Their odly rude mishapen tawney flowers
& prickly burs that crowd the leaves of sedge
That claimd my pleasing search for hours & hours

& down the hay fields wading above the knees
Thro seas of waving grass what days Ive gone
Cheating the hopes of many labouring bees
By cropping blossoms they were perchd upon
As thyme along the hills & lambtoe notts
& the wild stauking canterbury bell
By hedgrow side or bushy bo[r]dering spots
That loves in shade & solitude to dwell

412

& when the summers swarms half namless fled
& autumns landscape faded bleak & wild
When leaves gun fall & show their berries red
Still with the season woud I be beguild
Lone spots to seek home leaving far behind
Were wildness rears her lings & teazle burs
& were last lingering of the flowery kind
Blue heath bells tremble neath the sheltering furze

Sweet was such walks on the half barren wild
Which ploughs leave quiet with their briars & brakes
Prospects of freedom pleasing from a child
To track the crookd pad which the rabbit makes
On these past times one loves to look behind
Nor lives a soul, mere trifles as they be
But feels a joy in bringing to his mind
The wild flower rambles of his infancy

Tis sweet to view as in a favourd book
Lifes rude beginning page long turned oer
Tis natures common feeling back to look
On things that pleasd us when they are no more
Pausing on childish scenes a wishd repeat
Seeming more sweet to value when we're men
As on[e] awakend from a vision sweet
Wishes to sleep & dream it oer agen

413

TO LORD RADSTOCK

Tis sweet to reccolect lifes past controuls
& turn to days of sorrow when theyre bye
& think of gentle friends & feeling souls
That offerd shelter when the storm was high

It thrills ones heart as mariners have turnd
When scapd from shipwreck & the billows roar
To look on fragments that the tempest spurnd
On which he clung & struggld to the shore

Ah sweet it is to turn & hour by hour
Reflection muses on the good & great
That lent a portion of their wealth & power
& savd a wormling from destructions fate

So to the patron of her first essays
The rural muse O' Radstock turns her eye
Not wi the fulsome noise of fawning praise
But souls deep gushings in a silent sigh

414

As when the drooping flower pent deep in shade
Should ere a sunbeam to its lot be given
Perks up in hopful bloom its feeble head
& seemly offers silent thanks to heaven

WOMAN
[_]

—Tune ‘Away Wi This Pouting’

O woman sweet witchingly woman
Amid the worlds bustle & strife
Thourt the only sweet blossom thats blooming
Perfuming the garden of life
Thourt the only pure fountain thats given
From whence all true pleasures doth flow
The angels are unknowns of heaven
But womans real angels below

Our lives woud be lives of vexation
Our days woud be days of despair
Wi out the sweet jems of creation
Soft women to sweeten our care
& powers that formd beauty protect us
If weaknesses cant be conseald
Shoud we view heavens joys as conjectures
& women as heaven reveald

& far be a souls savage natures
That cannot wi tenderness burn
That turns from a look of such creatures
As one from a statue woud turn

415

When beauty its charms are unsealing
From glances of eyes dewey blue
Devoid must they be of all feeling
That thrills wi no raptures to view

O women sweet witchin[g]ly women
Amid the worlds bustle & strife
Yere the only sweet blossom thats blooming
Perfuming the garden of life
Yere the only pure fountain that[s] given
From whence real happiness flow
While angels are unknowns of heaven
Sweet womens provd angels below

[Spring of life fare ye well I have tasted your sweetness]

Spring of life fare ye well I have tasted your sweetness
& livd till your days over cast
Ive baskd in your shining & witnessd your fleetness
Your sunny sky glimmerd & past
Ties that hold comforts like cobwebs are brakeing
A bleb on the fountain their value can tell
Ive dreamd of thy sweetness my vision is waking
I leave thee for others to dream—fare thee well

Summer of life I am hailing thy coming
Summer of life thou of comforts can tell
But leaves they are tender of blossoms full blooming
& tempests is blighting—lifes pleasures fare well
Summer of life thou hast calms for thy portion
But king oer thy pleasures unce[rt]antys dwell
The smoothest of waters that calm on the ocean
Deform into billows—lifes pleasures farwell

416

Autum of life resignation does find thee
Ripend reflection thy coming doth hail
But winter sad winter that follows behind thee
Our ripend reflection is ready to fail
When age & when pain on its last rock has wrack'd us
& death is unsealing his errand to view
While the last hope of hopes still remaineth conjectures
Fear trembles while bidding lifes troubles adieu

[Learning may polish up love wi fine feelings]

Learning may polish up love wi fine feelings
Wit on thy charms may rich graces impart
But plain rural love the true language of nature
Still boasts the feelings that speak to the heart
Woudst thou be told what that look woud have told thee
Woudst thou be told what them sighs did declare
Twas loves simple lookings of bliss to behold thee
Twas loves bitter abscence that sighd its despair

Leave me till then in a snug box declining
& give me a wish as unbroken to be
Neer to repeat those sad nights of repining
When my last groat was dragd captive from me
Still leave me power as an unbroken charter
Sir barley corns mansion to visit at will
Prove me a hope true as free from that quarter
Taxes wornt lay no fresh tolls on his jill

417

The harp strings of life wi sweet feelings was strung
Sweet music once lull'd the thrill'd soul in its pain
But in secret it fled the sweet source whence it hung
I ne'er could my wanderings awake it again
Life's book had a page that could sweeten my sorrows
Ere child hood was lost in the tumult of years
Ere time folded down the sad leaves of tomorrows
Whose sweets of the past it defac'd in its tears

[Thousands of miles have I gangd heavy hearted]

Thousands of miles have I gangd heavy hearted
Fancy een sickens to turn to the track
Twenty one years has worn thro sin we parted
& now to my jenny Im speeding me back
Six setting suns have begilt the seas bosom
Sin agen Ive bin blest my own country to see
Travel wears on me but pains soon Ill loose em
When Ive provd my jenny still constant to me

Two or three times have fond wishes bin cheated
Last night I thought jennys cot I coud see
& when ground & sky meets agen its repeated
That shines thro the mist a days walk unto me

418

Cool eve Im wore out revive & repair me
Id feign see my love ere my travels decline
But again I must drop for my feet cannot bear me
Tho sleeps small to do wi such bosoms as mine

Jenny thy faith need thy sailor to doubt it
True thou didst vow when I parted from thee
But ah if its broken thourt carless about it
To know where thy love at this moment may be
But if thou art true love now night trees are dripping
& pelts their chill dew on my unshe[l]terd breast
Jenny twoud grive—but thourt housed & sleeping
& Ill make me happy to think thou art blest

Twenty one years love have past sin we parted
Long has the time bin but still to my eye
It seems tother day when ye heard I wer started
& left off yer hay work to bid me good bye
Just at the time when the june rose was daw[n]ing
The one that I gave thee loves feelings exprest
Ah it warms me to think ont as dewd wi the morning
The tears trickld ont as it stuck on yer breast

Love canst thou think what a time torn asunder
Jane canst thou think of the changes of time
Canst thou look on my poor wrinkld face & not wonder
That such alterations misfigures my prime
Jane can the storys of glory ere move thee
Still dost thou fancy my looks as they were
Jane if thou dost then I fear thoult not love me
But doubts if ill founded's bought cheap wi a tear

419

'Gen will I rise tho pain presses upon me
Gen for the cottage of comfort Ill look
Hunger & thirst tho distresses throws on me
Providence shifts wi suport from the brook
Battle thy pains are enough to be mour[n]ing
But wants & distress thou hast left me are small
If Jane does but give me a welcome returning
Her welcomes a balsam that cureth it all

[No grandeur here wi affections shew]

No grandeur here wi affections shew
Mounts marble busts wi merits not their own
To show the wondering eye what pomp can do
Oer perishd ashes other wise unknown

This simple stone woud have the reader mind
Merit tho long it sleeps wi out regard
That natures power congenial souls will find
How ever mean to pay it some reward

& a while wi a tear this tributes gave
From labours hand—may wealth & taste be warmd
To raise a worthier trophey oer his grave
Whose living works the wondering world has stormd

420

[Loves recollections is like the spring morning]

Loves recollections is like the spring morning
Which the young beams of morns sun shined oer
What now surley winter broods oer wi his scorning
& glooms into shade what shone lovley before
Here stands the tree which the thorn blossom cherishd
That gracd the sweet breast thats unknown to my pain
But fled is my love & the flower it is perishd
Nor love nor the flower will ere blossom again

The honey shower of love when its past
The shadow that with memory does stay
Is like the naked nest of the bird in the blast
Which summers love leaves to decay
Here is the bower where my love sat beside me
Here is the seat that all pleasure has known
But the source of my bliss that like fountains supplyd me
The bird from its nest & its partner is flown

IMPROMTU

[First rosey that peeps on the bower]

First rosey that peeps on the bower
Is lovly & sweet to the eye
But summers profuse after flower
Is not half the store setten bye

421

Like love as its openings how sweet
When reposd on its soft blushing bed
New loves they are welcome to meet
But first feelings were are they fled

SONG

[There was a time when loves young flowers]

There was a time when loves young flowers
Wi many a joy my bosom prest
Sweet hours of bliss—but short are hours
Those hours are fled—& Im distresst
I woud not wish gen reasons spite
I woud not wish new joy to gain
I only wish but one delight
To see those hours of bliss again

There was a day when love was young
& nought but bliss did there belong
When black birds nestling oer us sung
Ah me what sweetness wakd his song
I wish not springs for ever fled
I wish not birds forgotten strain
I only wish for feelings dead
To warm & wake & feel again

But ah all that was once is past
The times gone by the day & hour
Is wirring fled on troubles blast
As winter nips the summer flower

422

A shadows only left the mind
Of joys that once was real to view
A echo only fills the wind
Wi mocking sounds that once were true

[Turn again thou sweet beguiling]

Turn again thou sweet beguiling
Tho like summer suns they be
Painting shadows from thy smiling
While thy heart is false to me
Turn again & let me languish
If thy heart is falsly seen
In lovd scenes if death shoud ambush
Sure his weapons not so keen

Turn again & be't my duty
Thus to rob my soul of rest
If while feasting on thy beauty
Serpents wrankle to my breast
Turn again thou false aluring
Sweet the tale thy smilings tell
Sure in death theres small enduring
Killd by weapons lovd so well

423

NOON

The mid day hour of twelve the clock counts oer
A sultry stillness lulls the air asleep
The very buzz of flye is heard no more
Nor one faint wrinkle oer the waters creep
Like one large sheet of glass the pool does shine
Reflecting in its face the burnt sun beam
The very fish their sturting play decline
Seeking the willow shadows side the stream
& where the awthorn branches oer the pool
The little bird forsaking song & nest
Flutters on dripping twigs his limbs to cool
& splashes in the stream his burning breast
O free from thunder for a sudden shower
To cherish nature in this noon day hour

[Give me the hour that puts to bed]

Give me the hour that puts to bed
The summers burning sun
Give [me] the spot where over head
The wood bine branches run

424

There leave me on the mossy seat
That nature does provide me
& leave me there the bliss so sweet
The maid I love beside me

& there my wish & my delight
To have in all compleated
To kiss my love till morning light
Then have the wish repeated
& ere the world was wide awake
Sun woud in bed remain
& sleep a sluggards wisht mistake
Till even came again

[Leave the door in peace man]

Leave the door in peace man
Yere got drunk & silly
Yere tales wrong told ye neednt stan
Yere not my soldier billy
He was trig as youth coud be
& fines the summer day
No beggars half so cagd as thee
So gang in peace away

Willys bin in ruffian wars
A scape goat of their anger
Thoughts of thee & battle scars
These have made the[e] stranger
But if ye will take me in
Now youth & blooms bereft me
Ye shall find my heart within
Just as when it left thee

425

Stranger yers a piteous case
May powers above protect ye
Yeve not one mark of willys face
I cannot reccolect ye
Willey any maid coud win
His looks they were so gay—
Yeve no red cheeks & dimpld chin
So turn in peace away

Ah silly maidens vain & weak
No wonder at yer ruin
A painted sin ye love to seek
& are your own undoing
If thats the love I've livd to prove
& thought so long in coming
If but skin deep is woman love
—Good bye to worthless woman

AUTUMN

The spring is gone the summer beauty wanes
Like setting sun beams in their last decline
As evening shadows linger on the plains
Gleam dim & dim[m]er till they cease to shine

426

The busy bee hath humd himself to rest
Flowers dry to seed that held the sweets of spring
Flown is the bird & left an empty nest
Their broods are reard no joys are left to sing
There hangs a dreariness about the scene
A present shadow of a bright has been
Ah sad to prove that pleasures golden springs
Like common fountains shoud so quickly dry
& be so near allied to vulgar things
The joys of this world but are born to dye

[Springs flushing bud has opend into leaf]

Springs flushing bud has opend into leaf
Summers blown [flower] hath shed its seed & gone
Browning wheat fields rustle in the sheaf
Which springs first sun beam lookd so green upon
So natures beauties vanishes away
The very dreams of what was once decay
Mid pale consumptive autumns windings round
When summer beauties & the suns warm ray
Like charms of woman wanes & vanishes
Ah sad to think that beautys burning eyes
Shoud shine in borrowd light ah sad to see
Such lights extinguishd in a mortal shroud
Ah sad to think joys flower so sweet shoud be

427

[Steal my sweet bessy from racket & dancing]

Steal my sweet bessy from racket & dancing
Sweet to thy taste tho the fiddle may be
If I may judge by thy bonny eye glancing
Love owns a charm woud be sweeter to thee
Bessey then shun thee the rustics intruding
Where for awhile by ourselves we may be
When the wild bower oer its silence is brooding
Steal from the rout love & wander wi me

Bessy thy bosom like sweet summer weather
Swells wi a warmth of delight on my eye
Bessey the rose on thy cheeks fit to gether
Wander wi me love & dont ye deny
Ripe to perfection thy cherry lips glow love
Whose smiles tell their wishes as kissd they woud be
Thy eyes dart their sun beams & look so & so love
Then feign no compulsion to wander wi me

If in loves pleasures there lurks any harm love
Cursd be the joy that runs hazard of thine
All that I wish is a inn[o]scent charm love
To feast mid thy blushes on kisses divine
But rash rueful pleasures that hot love is meeting
When fears at the parting force tears from the eye
If wi such thoughts & false vows my hearts beating
Bessey er'ts broken wi thee, may I die.

428

BALLAD

[The heavy thick mist hangs over the sun]

The heavy thick mist hangs over the sun
The grass is all wet wi the dew
I cannot come out to thee roger till noon
Fear o' spoiling my sealskin shoe
No mists need to tarry my jenny till noon
The mist simmers thin on the hill
Sun beams getting yellow will master him soon
& ye may walk out if ye will

But she a new ribbon put on at the time
Which roger neer bought for her brow
& tho he neer knew of his jenny a crime
Fears jealousy wisperd it now
& she had a mantle all fringed wi silk
& a new gown as smart as coud be
Far too fine for the hassard of going to milk
Full o tucks even up to the knee

& shed a green purse which a gold tassel drew
& gold in it plenty beside
Such tokens spoke more then hard labour coud do
Rich rivals had gen her the pride
So rogers fears dreamt & his dreams to pursue
To green bowers in ambush he hies
Where jane like a lady soon hazards the dew
—He wishd twas a dream of his eyes

Jane lightly skipt by wipd away the bower briar
Where roger conseald from the view
& who shoud be shooting hard by but the squire
That provd rogers dreamings too true

429

They kissd & they toyd upon loves pleasant lap
& thought roger true at the end
But he like a fox saw em baiting the trap
& never sought jenny agen

[Three suns had gilt the cottage top]

Three suns had gilt the cottage top
Wi days enlivening smile
Three nights had spread their horrid gloom
Oer hearts that guilt defile

Sin william he had broke his vow
& taen another bride
Sin marys death that vow had causd
Who broke her heart & dyd

& he had roamd in grief the while
Oer pleasures now no more
Which fancy when its vainly done
Paints stronger then before

& he had met his brides embrace
Sweet bliss as man coud know
As warm as womans love coud be
But he was full of woe

For marys kiss (twas all he knew)
Hed never meet agen
& women ere the knott is tyd
Are angels deemd till then

& he woud look thro memorys eye
On marys charms divine
Which now like clouds in distant skye
In sweetest rays did shine

430

& oft he wanderd where they met
& o coud joys be won
Where he coud hope they still might meet
But hopes were past & done

& he in proofs of kindness dreamd
What happy days hed seen
If he had kept to mary true
& she his wife had been

& when the church bell knolld her end
Upon the sloomy breeze
Each knoll wi marys dying sighs
Told stories such as these

& all that reccollecting love
In fancys ear coud breed
Told he had cruel wrongd the flower
& nursd a stranger weed

Distrest—he sought a shamful death
Too horrid to be sung
& clowns still dread to pass the oak
Where he suspended hung

& night still wakens on the tree
The screech owls dreadful song
Where williams body rests beneath
If rest to such belong

Who hears the tale like ruin shun
Where loves warm vows are past
For guilt a seeming spark begun
Bursts into flames at last

431

[The spring has brought its blessing love]

The spring has brought its blessing love
& daiseys deck the lea
Both green & grove is dressing love
In sweetest smiles for thee
Old winters ceasd to rattle love
Agen thy window light
& bowers Ive gun to wattle love
For thine & mine delight

A bower to shield thy slumbers love
Wi may day suns opprest
When birds in sweetest numbers love
Do sing thee to thy rest
& I will watch beside thee love
Upon thy bed of flowers
To see's no harms betide thee love
Wi in the leafy bowers

& when my watch Im keeping love
If wi no vile intent
I view your beauty sleeping love
So sweet & innoscent
& if your sleep Im breaking love
Wi but a harmless kiss
Lets hope ye wornt at waking love
Such trifles take amiss

432

[Blow on ye winds till yer breath it is broken]

Blow on ye winds till yer breath it is broken
Pelt down yer rains till yer fountains be dry
Wet to my skin thro my garments be soaken
Love for my nelly will trifles defy
Ive got the comfort to come when it shall come
Nellys sweet smiles will oer ballance the pain
Whose looks even speak ‘ye are heartily welcome’
Whose warm kisses prove it again & again

Sweet shall I sit where my nellys fire glimmers
While sings the gay cricket less happy then I
While frothing sap from each billets end simmers
Sweet shall I sit my wet garments to dry
Sweet shall I sit when the precious hour shall come
When one chair is holding my nelly & I
Whose looks even wisper ‘yer heartily welcome
O sweet shall I sit my wet garments to dry’

SONG

[& Ive got a secret I fear to tell thee]

& Ive got a secret I fear to tell thee
& tho ye are fain it disclosed shoud be
I dread yer opinion & mine to agree
As I see the like happen to many
But do but turn back to the long summer thro'
Where I did as I did & now do as I do
The secret no longers a secret to you
& now can ye guess at it nanny

433

Think night after night 'gen the greens flaggy slough
Where buzzing knats teazd ye while milking yer cow
How I took & bundld em off with a bough
From losses in kicking cows screening
Think when fresh jobs threw ye late in the day
& yer walk by the side of the haunted pond lay
To keep ye from fear how I met ye half way
Yeve sure now some guess at the meaning

Aye nanny no longer a stranger ye stand
For I see the blush ye woud hide wi yer hand
My doubts wi the secret is now at an end
So no longer bother me nanny
& sure as I live by my flail & my spade
My choisce it is fixd & my pains are well paid
So let that kiss earnest the bargain as made
I love thee wench better then any

THE IRISH EMIGRANT

To look on past joys tis the sun shine of memory
When my youth dwelt in erin the isle of all isles
When at even I wanderd abroad wi sweet leminey
& livd as in heaven on kisses & smiles
When we sought the cool shade were blythe even was lulling
The hot day to sleep—& our labour to joy
When I for her hand the small daisey was pulling—
O the sunshine of life goes wi days that are bye

434

I once had my hut & small nook of potatoes
I once in my hut fed my couple of swine
But the worst—ah the worst of all unsettled cre'tures
I wanderd away from the peace that was mine
Now ragd & forlorn in a strange land I labour
Where plenty showers blessings to all but poor I
Where nones nigh to pity, dear love, nor a neighbour
—When I look towards Erin Im ready to dye

A wide sea is roaring 'tween me & my dwelling
A long track has parted my darling from me
My heart gauling tale to a strange land Im telling
A land that is deaf to my sorrows & me
O love fare ye well all my hopes are in mourning
Ise neer can get money to wander to you
My toil tho so hard neerll support my returning
Sweet Erin & leminey ever adieu

[When I met wi her I coud wish for my own]

When I met wi her I coud wish for my own
As fair & as blushing as blossoms full blown
Ah me I did heave a sigh
When she first met my eye
Poverty frownd she shoud not be my own

435

Life had a cloud that was sore to be nigh
Were hot love wi want woud get colded & dye
When I my love did meet
& saw her face so sweet
Poverty frownd wi many a sigh

Ah how I wishd the sweet maid for my own
Ah how I sighd upon troubles long known
But her sweet simple smile
Poverty did beguile
& hazard at last took the maid for my own

TO THE RURAL MUSE

Simple enchantress, wreathd in summer blooms
Of slender bent stalks topt wi' feathery down
Heaths creeping fetch & glaring yellow brooms
& ash keys wavering on thy rushey crown
Simple enchantress how Ive wooed thy smiles
How often sought thee far from flusht renown
Sought thee unseen where fountain waters fell
Touchd thy wild reed unheard, in weary toils
& tho my heavy hand thy song defiles
Tis hard to leave thee & to bid farwell

436

Simple enchantress ah from all renown
Far far, my soul hath warmd in bliss to see
The varied figures on thy summer gown
That natures fingure works so witchingly
The silken leaf the varied colord flower
Green nestling bower bush & high towering tree
Brooks of the sunny green & shady dell
Ah sweet full many a time they've bin to me
& tho my weak song faulters sung to thee
I cannot wild enchantress bid farwell

Still feign to seek thee tho I wind the brook
When morning sunbeams oer the waters glide
& trace thy footsteps in the lonly nook
As evening moists the daisey by thy side
Ah if I wooe thee on thy bed of thyme
If courting thee be deemd ambitions pride
Ah tis so passing sweet wi thee to dwell
If love for thee in clowns be calld a crime
Forgive presumption—O thou queen of ryhme
Ive lovd thee long I cannot bid farwell

437

TO AN OATEN REED

Sweet pipe awakend on the lowly hill
Where pastoral Bloomfield touchd his 'chanting strain
Feign woud I tempt to sound thy notes again
& wind thy melody with better skill
To raise a sweeter sound—but trials vain
The hand falls rough that tender notes woud raise
The ear lists dimly to some dying sigh
Like gales that hush the end of summer days
The weakend feelings ebb their feeble rays
Like evening suns, & fountains nearly dry—
I vainly wish to wake thy rural lays
Yet like long shadows on the evening glade
I stretch my waining musings feign to try
One lingering effort ere they meet the shade

438

SONG

[Theres the daisey the woodbine]

Theres the daisey the woodbine
& crowflower so golden
Theres the wild rose the eglantine
& may buds unfolding
Theres flowers for my fairy
Theres bowers for my love
Wilt thou gang wi' me mary
To the banks of brooms grove

Theres the thorn bush & the ashen tree
For to shield from the heat
While the brook for refreshing thee
Runs close by thy feet
The thrushes is chanting dear
Mid the pleasures of love
Thourt the only thing wanted here
Mid the sweets of broom[s] grove

Then come ere a minutes gone
Sin the long summers day
Puts her wings swift as linnets on
For hieghing away
Then come wi' no doubtings near
To fear a false love
For there[s] nothing wi out thee dear
Can please in bro[o]ms grove

439

The woodbines may nauntle dear
In blossoms so fine
The wild roses mantle near
In blushes may shine
Mary queen of each blossom proves
Shes the blossom I love
Shes the all that my bosom loves
Mong the sweets of brooms grove

MILK MAIDS LAMENT

Gone is my Jemmey fond loves only treasure
& with him loves rounds of years summers did flee
For winter as then was a summer of pleasure
But summer reversd nows a winter to me
His looks was a flower on the cold mows a blooming
When winter extended his ravages wide
His smiles were as suns for to cheer the storms glooming
When I wanderd a milking & snudg'd by his side

But now all alone I do face the bleak pastures
& like a lone awthorn or oddling tree
Im now a nak'd becon for winters dissasters
No one comes to offer a shelter to me
Gone is my jemmy that threw his arm round me
& bore home my milk pails & milked my cow
The tempest may blow & the rain storm may drownd me
Theres near a kind heart to be meeting me now

440

Like the odd larking upon the bleak meadows
& lorn mopeing q[u]ail on the hard frozen lea
Which the Gun of the hard hearted swain has made widows
I meet the sad trouble that war bringeth me
All hopes they are vain while the grim war is scowling
Its fate may already alight on him now
Thus sighd a lorn maid to the winter winds howling
Whose eyes swum wi tears as she rose from her cow

LASS OF LINNEY MOOR

& I do in the eve delight
When lambs drop down to rest the night
Ah me it is a pleasing sight
That dusk cloud creepeth oer
When weary homward sails the bee
When dews gin seeth on flower & tree
All for the love of meeting thee
Sweet lass of linney moor

& tho full sweet the evens dun
& tho full sweet the setting sun
& noisey routs of town to shun
As dusk clouds gather oer
If Id no hope thy face to see
The eve might come & go for me
Id meet no joy in lieu of thee
Sweet lass of linney moor

441

So steal wi' me from noisey town
To hillocks hid in benty down
Where secret bowers the spring head crown
Wild woodbines crouching oer
& there beneath the ashen grove
Ill gi thee stronger faith to prove
As how thou art my only love
Sweet lass of linney moor

BALLAD

[Alas what a pity, the maid of the city]

Alas what a pity, the maid of the city
Shoud ere a bin seen by the chaps of our town
For some act as crazy while others turn lazy
& all's out of sorts sin' the day she came down
Her cheeks paint so blooming her clo'hs sweet perfuming
The citys gay tinsel so dazzles the clown
O bother past shunning sin she dash'd from lunon
A bedlams bin made of our unhappy town

She passes the ploughmen, they make a low bow mun
While hearts from their bosoms are bidding adieu
She starts the shoemaker whose eye cant forsaker
Tills hawl pricks his fingers as deep as his shoe

442

The taylor lord love him the lass has undone him
His fingers forsaken its old thimble crown
His needle points broken he's drinking & smoaking
&'s neer stuck to work sin the day she came town

Her name theres no telling so hard is the spelling
Ameeley Opheeley or some such a sound
But in the clowns ditty shes ‘flower of the city’
& bodkin neer drinks but the ‘city’ goes round
Ah woe to our village sin she came for pillage
& stole the weak hearts of each thunder struck clown
Poor bodkins & brustles & ploughmen by hustles
Shes playd a sad game wi' our unlucky town

SONG

[The war is of every kind comfort bereft me]

The war is of every kind comfort bereft me
Sin' deaths horrid letter the seas wafted oer
To tell Jemmy dead—O my hopes they have left me
I never shall meet wi my Jemmy no more
O war so far from me to lay him asleeping
& o such fond love in deaths arms to lay cold
O war thou wert deaf to a fond maidens weeping
A heart of hard marble thy bosom must hold

443

My Jemmy is gone & my hopes all have followd
Nought sweetens a thought of his coming again
The bower blooms as usual that parting vows hallowd
But the youth that last got me the posey is slain
& the eve dew may drop on the flower by noon heated
& the dewdrops of even the flower may restore
But the loves of that bower shall be never repeated
& the flower by that hand will be gatherd no more

Oer the fair face of summer 3 winters 'bin sweeping
& three springs have wakened sin he bid adieu
& far yond the ocean full soundly he's sleeping
Frail life owns no shoots for to blossom anew
& suns may oft gleam were he slumbers forsaken
& daiseys may smile on the turf were he's lain
Nor sunbeams nor summers can warm him to waken
The smile of my Jemmy neer blossoms again

[& let pity find an odd penny good neeghbours]

& let pity find an odd penny good neeghbours
To the life ebbing wreck & grey age & deep scars
My bow back is warpd wi excess of hard labours
My arms left behind me in hot bloody wars
& dont seek to question the fadings of glory
Why home wife & childern grew irksome to me
Theres no blush of shame that woud tarnish my story
Twas hopes better prospects warmd me for the sea

444

In vain wife & childern the yarn weel was thruming
I staid till I saw em all ready to dye
My wife buryd sighs in the hollow wheels huming
& wetted the thread wi the tear from her eye
I went wi good purpose from sorrows so urgent
& sought for good luck that was never to be
I first servd a kings ship but lastly a merchant
So prizes & pensions is nothing to me

[Ill neer walk at even Jim]

Ill neer walk at even Jim
When the night is glimpt wi grey
When the light is waxing dim
Deeds are done at closing day
Ever sin by blossomd bean
While the knats were danceing bye
Ye did on my bosom lean
Aye the tears bin in my eye

Ever sin ye passd the morn
When ye little dreamt a spy
Meeting dolly 'hind the thorn
Aye the tears bin in my eye
Ever sin ye vowd to wed
& I provd wi heavy sigh
Yed the vow to mary made
Aye the tears bin in my eye

Sweet the tear shines on thee love
Which I soon will wash away
Tenderness has won me love
Fear thou not the even grey

445

Sin we sat by beans in bloom
I have bin the ring to buy
Think no harm from that shall come
Wipe the tear from either eye

SONG

[Emma leave the dinsome city]

Emma leave the dinsome city
Where the coaches bustle down
Where trade yells its daily ditty
Wend wi me to country town
From the noise that taste abuses
Bid a summer days adieu
Where thro moss the fountain oozes
Sit wi me & nature view

Song of birds & clowns at labour
Where theyre all the noises made
Where sweet bends the rosey arbour
Oer its silence & its shade
While the bubbles breezes meeting
From the spring head float & flee
Warning us that pleasures fleeting
Emma share the hour wi me

There well walk the meadows gaily
Marking scenes that please the eye
& as sunbeams waxeth paley
Ah—well greet 'em with a sigh

446

There well wander flowers to gather
Clover bottles on the lea
Emma now tis summer weather
Natures beautys trace wi me

& as even dulling dreary
Chills her moister on the flower
Parting us before were weary
Emma—thens the gloomy hour
—Fare thee well & at thy leisure
Gen while noise environs thee
Think when ye, in guiless pleasure
Spent a summers day wi me

[Ye maidens that sunshine of beauty is warming]

Ye maidens that sunshine of beauty is warming
Wi no delays be oershooting yer prime
The dames hive is ready when bees are a swarming
& men grow as fickle not taken in time
One thats provd all to her grief gis the caution
If yer unruly let crabbed things worrit ye
If yer unruly then meet the sad portion
Of troubles that fell upon dingling dorothy

447

Ah love days & pleasures they meet wi a sudden fall
Sundays was once when as happy as ye
Each passing youth smiling nipt out from his button hole
Roseys or pinks to be given to me
But soon they were sickend each wisperd his matey
Dont say nought to sour looks shell glowr fit to worry ye
So now a poor hopless wi in one of eighty
A dying unpitied is dingling dorothy

I put when too old upon loves tongue a clapper tot
& courted the men when they woudnt court me
But they turnd the jeer calld my nose & chin ‘crack a nut’
& sed spring & winter coud never agree
Eyes they call crow toed once likend to star & moon
Deuce take their mockerey theyd better go bury me
Maidens be sure ye be cautiond & marry soon
& scape the misfortunes of dingling dorothy

[So soon in the morning, love were are ye toiling]

So soon in the morning, love were are ye toiling
& tracking the grass ere its dryd in the sun
Im seeking my cow, said the maid simply smiling
& much wish the job of my milking was done
But Ive trackd the heath & full vain are my rambles
& Ive sought the shelter of brake & of burn
Till Im wet wi the dewey grass & tore wi the brambles
& now emty handed Im going to return

As we look on the rosey preparing so sweetly
To open its bud & the lilley its bell
A fresh glimpse of beauty did win me compleatly
& my tongue told no lye when it wished her well

448

I deemd it a chance & assistance I profferd
To search fort all over by brake & by burne
She raisd me a smile for the thing that I offerd
But bended & blushd when she met its return

& we searchd the pasture of natures wild planting
& paddl'd the shallows of fountain & slough
Till we found at last what her search was long wanting
& she thanked me simply & turnd to her cow
& she pulld a twig of broom flowers from her bonnet
Tilt witherd I kept the sweet token so true
& long did the prize warm my heart to think on it
When I found my choice mong the brambles & dew

& I waited long for the milkings repeating
& thought that one day was the longest Id seen
Ere even tide blest me wi loves second meeting
Wher dew drops were wasted & pasture pads clean
& there I was blest wi my pleasures returning
Where I past wi the maiden one unbroken vow
Nor shall she repent of the chance meeting morning
Nor wish shed denyd me the seeking her cow

[O bonney lass of harrow lea]

O bonney lass of harrow lea
Sweet sonsey flower of all the town
A sweeter lass there cannot be
She is the queen that wears the crown
Which shepherds platt upon the lea
Sweet flower of harrow town

449

A KISS

They may say what they will upon love
They may make what they will of a kiss
The matter is easy to prove
If truth wasn't taken amiss
Tis as plain as one reading a book
Like the parson reciting his text
We hear from what chapter its took
—& the sermon of course follows next

[Were woodbines are wreathing & zephers are breathing]

Were woodbines are wreathing & zephers are breathing
& summer is gilding the scene
Wi sunbeams so warming & blossoms so charming
Lives nelley of harrowley Green
& when knats are given their vespers to even
& small migens dancing are seen
Give me no more pleasure then meeting at leisure
Sweet nelly of harrowley green

Her cheeks of the roseys hue her eyes O so dewey blue
So simple her mind & serene
Sweet queen of the summer plain sweet pride of the shepherd swain
Is nelly of harro[w]ley green

450

& when knats are given their vespers to even
& small migens dancing are seen
Give me the sweet pleasure in walking at leisure
Wi nelley of harrowley green

(a)

[The scene it was cheery when I met my deary]

The scene it was cheery when I met my deary
In even[s] cool mantle of dew
Twas heaven unfolding in sunset so golden
But ah it was sweeter far sweeter beholding
Fond love at its first interview

O fond loves excesses the heart how it blesses
Wi the jem of our raptures in view
We fancy none fairer we fancy none dearer
There may be as true but we think none sincerer
Loves sketches are perfectly drew

But fancy is waining & love is complaining
Of beautys that time weareth thro
Summers day may be golden ripe flowers sweet beholding
But the honey of sweetness is springs bliss unfolding
Wi tender loves first interview

451

(b)

[When last meeting mary the scene it was cheery]

When last meeting mary the scene it was cheery
Neath evens cool mantle of dew
Twas heaven beholding the sunset so golden
But ah it was sweeter far sweeter beholding
Fond love at its first interview

O first loves excesses the heart how it blesses
When bud like it blossoms to view
Oer warm souls revealing its sweetest of feeling
As musick as soft & as pleasantly stealing
Love opens its first interview

But springs of love waineth & fancy complaineth
Of sweetness that time weareth thro
Summers suns may be golden its flowers sweet beholding
But the honey of sweetness is springs bliss unfolding
With tender loves first interview

[Theres some with a bottle will rub off the thorn]

Theres some with a bottle will rub off the thorn
That grows on the thistle of life
While some wi the comfort of fortun is born
To brush thro its bustle & strife
& some there is living thats nothing to sweeten
The bother & tro[u]ble his wandering is meeting
Save love gentle love that all stations is greeting
The peasant as sweet as a crown

452

& sweet is the bottle lifes troubles to cherish
& check the sour thistles he's sow'd
& sweet riches comforts a sunbeam to nourish
That serves to illumine the road
But sweeter to me is fond loves gentle greeting
& sweetest of comforts lifes troubles to sweeten
I prove it at even when mary Im meeting
I' the groves at the back of the town

O SAY NOT LOVE

A Song

O say not love I too despise thee
& wi malice evil tongu[e]d
Slander & reproach against thee
& delight to see the[e] wrongd
Every arm that vice is urging
At my bared breast they throw
Every weapon raisd against thee
Raises mine to stay the blow

Every tear thy cheek that moistens
Moists the eye that sees it start
Every sigh that rends thy bosom
Thrills its echo in my heart
Every shaft that flies to wound thee
On my aching heart they fall
Every wound that pains thy bosom
Mines the love that shares it all

453

THE CRAZY MAID

Poor wretched girl as wretched as thou art
Thou once was lovely ah & then poor maid
Thou had thy sweet heart & was happy
Proud as the rest thou once woud dress & prim
& stand thy hour out oer the glass to make
Thy dress sit lovley but alas
Prides nothing with thee now
Lillies once washd thy bosom & the rose
Blusht on thy cheek the damasks sweetest dye
Swains then adored thee as the village queen
& oft at church thy artlessnes was seen
Above thy prayer book glancing thy fine eye
To catch the fond youths smile whose inmost soul
Glowd ardently to be thy paramour
& doubly blest was he to catch the while
Thy simpering look a innoscent return
But beautys gone & all despise thee now

454

‘The crazy maid’ the childern bawls aloud
& flys thy sight as tho thou wast a deamon
Those who lovd thee once whose hearts took fire
With instant kindling from thy sparkling eyes
Now hang their heads in silent sad suspence
& wish not to be noticed passing thee
Thy own friends even ah thy best fond friends
Thy poor afflicted parents dread thy ways
& offer up their prayers for thy release
O god they sigh restore her to her reason
Or restore the wandering spirit
To its promisd home
Where wre[t]chedness finds rest
Poor wretch she howls her fancied terrors now
But short existance each gives leave to each
As like the hasty tide they ebb & flow
As like to Aprils skye her passions change
Sun shine & rain clear sky & cloud
All mingling in an hour
So song & sorrow mingles tears & smiles
Laughing & howling at she knows not what
Nor feels not—a minute goes grief dies
She fancies shes in heaven prays & sings
To trees & bushes calling them her angels
Then again a moment shifts the scene
Black horror fill[s] her brain she howls her rage
& frighted flies from every thing that stirs
Cows shine her devils then with tails & horns
& hogs & sheep her imps of dreaded hell
Again composd wild gushing joys again
Burst from her laughing soul poor hagged wretch

455

Tho witherd beauti[e]s flower tho swains are fled
Despisd & loathd by all she heeds it not
Nor cares a straw such losses are unknown
Give her her hemlock & her stinking weeds
Let headaches gaudy stinking finery
Adorn her dingy bosom—& but grow
Profuse of nettles weaving thence a crown
& placing it upon her matted hair
She struts a queen & none can match her equal
& oft shell search for flowers among the snow
& oft enquire where such things may abound
& if contrould
Will scowl look dark & mutter wild revenge
Tis wonderful to think what instinct leads
Tho reasons gone & blind hap hazard stoops
At every weed thats growing in her way
Still worst of weeds appear her happiest choise
Shell chuse wild nettles & go by the rose
& hen bane look & call it sweetest flower
Sweet indeed & shove it in her bosom
Then sudden change & call em nasty weeds
& strew em on the dunghill whence they grew
Poor wilderd wretch shell labour hard adays
Folding her aprons corners snugly up
To fill her lap with pebbles—searching round
With much industry these she deems as stars
Dropt from the heavens by her lovers hand
To please & make her happy—she woud laugh
& count the heap shed gatherd oer & oer
Suns moons & stars oft sorting them shed sit

456

For hours & hours upon some hilly bank
Aranging them in letters of his name
Decietfull man she lovd him & was happy
& as her childish playthings wearied her
Shed rise & kiss them one by one & woud
Mumble to each some pretty secret story
Giving them charge to take it to her lover
Some tender tale as how she lovd him still
& how ere while promise long made
She tended to fullfill to take a trip to heaven
To see & live with him & be at rest
Thus to her stones shed mutter & woud oft
Cite striking passages that pleasd her much
Of things once past in their unlucky love
As true as if shed reason ever so
& then shed toss her stars upon their Journey
Spreading her hands & bawling out good speed
Good bye farwell youll soon be up in heaven
To him who dropt you down to pleasure me
He loves me still god bless him
& as they fell again shed pick them up
Look surlily around & chide em much
For dallying thus to bear her message up
& tell her love tale in her lovers ear
Casting them from her with a furious throw
Far off they fell she heard em drop no more

457

She fancyd then they lodgd upon the clouds
& blest & happy woud she laugh & think
Them on their destind Journey oft good night
Shed clap her hands & haloo aye good night
Theyve told my story now & he has smild
& he woud kiss me now coud I but see him
Hes pleasd to think I love him still—he is
To think Im true good night to morrow morn
Hell drop ye down again ye pretty stars
When night no longer wants ye for his use
& drop a letter with ye gilt wi gold
Wrote with a moon beam sealed with a cloud
Then I shall know & still be sure he loves me
Heaven bless him pretty stars good night

458

[What power again bids grasses grow]

What power again bids grasses grow
Unlocks the stream & makes it run
& when the winter hurld his snow
Whose care attends the daiseys blow
& bears their bosoms to the sun
That power is great who ere he be
That warms the spring to bloom again
& from old winters killing reign
To bring to life the flower tree
To tell is it an easy task
Hark wast the wind that wistld by
Or was it nature made reply
‘Vain man why hast thou cause to ask
Look on the flower before thine eye
Een from the little daisys bloom
That smiles again upon the sod
Informing hints in silence come
To tell thy soul that powers a god’

SONG

[Left now in the valley forsaken to languish]

Left now in the valley forsaken to languish
While jealousy broods oer my fears
We perhaps part forever—be silent my anguish
Not a murmer shall sigh in her ears

459

My embrace the last time tho it round thee is wreathing
& thy hand presses silent ‘adieu’
I still shoud be blest now thy last kiss is breathing
If I knew that thy heart beat as true

O LOVE

A Song

O love thou pleasing paining thing
All joy thou dost pretend
Begun wi many pleasing sting
& sorrow ends thy end
To meet the[e]s more then heaven to meet
& worse then hell to part
Thy beauty face is gilt & sweet
But poison stains thy heart

SPRING

1

There is sweet feelings every soul can feel
That loves to look on spring times budding green
That words however powerful cant reveal
Or bright ideas picture what we mean

460

2

O spring thou darling cherub of the year
Thou tenderest favourite of natures tribe
My souls enrapturd when thy voice I hear
& vainly glows thy luxeries to describe

3

What mellowness there seems in things around
How sweet the greening grass perks up its spears
While here & there a daisy whites the ground
& added king cups with the sun appears

4

Wild natures voice & hues on wood & plain
There does a sweetness on her entrance tend
& he whoever loves to mark her reign
Can feel her opening deeper then her end

5

The awthorns tender green that darkens deep
As sunbeams tempt the buds in leaves to steal
Ones eye on hedgrows takes a glancing sweep
& feels a thrilling pain she loves to feel

6

The plough boy proves the universal power
When springs first daisey by his eyes is met
He feign coud wish his plough to spare the flower
& after buries scores without regret

7

The loitering cowboy peeping at a nest
Breaks off his sports for the first cuckoos strain
He turns & looks warm thrillings melt his heart
‘Cuckoo’ he sings & seeks his rest again

461

8

The milking maidens at their evening seat
When first the nightingale begins again
With listning joy her sweet jug songs repeat
& leave their own to mock her infant strain

9

Give me an hour of peace as now & then
Spring I may see & trace my valleys oer
& then great natures power to toil agen
Give me my health & I require no more

10

How sweet to wander now the very breeze
Fans health upon the milkmaids blushing cheek
The very wispers fanning thro the trees
Bespeaks that name which riches vainly seek

11

How pleasd I look upon the mornings red
When thy young charms with their first beautys glow
When the black clouds of frowning winters fled
That hid the east like rocks & hills of snow

12

How pleasd I look upon the daisy flower
With thy first dew drop on its blushing cheek
& roseys opening on their thorny bower
On sunday rambles I delight to seek

462

13

The little blu[e]caps fluskering agilty
In pleasd attention I delight to view
That wipes his bill & cheeps from tree to tree
Picking the buds & sipping drops of dew

14

How lovly now to wind the narrow lane
When the eye catches on the vilet flower
Upon the warm bank peeping out again
Neath briar bound hedge or awthorns sheltering bower

15

& tween the bushes in the sheltering spots
The daisey opens & slow venturing up
The quaking cowslip fearfully unotts
Tempting the schoolboy ere it[s] ripe to stoop

[Scenes of sweet feelings ye trees & ye bushes]

Scenes of sweet feelings ye trees & ye bushes
Thou far banishd green where my childhood was spent
When memory views ye in raptures warm gushes
She wishes again for that peace & content

She points with her finger this spot & that noting
Where sung the wild thrush in the grey willow row
& lambs in the spring round the mole hills were sporting
& sweet mong the rushbeds were daiseys did blow

463

Ah me while I wander past joys thus a counting
& markt out the spots where I dropt on the hill
A counting the bubles that boild from the fountain
While my heart in its pleasures was peacful & still

Alas to contrast it—but vainly repeated
The pains of things present with things as they where
But the grass that crowns spots where in joy youth was seated
My feelings oft worship their blades with a tear

SLIGHTED LOVES LAST ADDRESS TO HIS MISTRESS

There will be a time from thy lover deserted
Thoult curse thy hot temper that coudnt agree
There will be a hour when the hour he departed
Thoult date all thy griefs & wish vainly for me
There will be a time I behold it too plainly
Thoult count the sweet joys which was witnessd before
Thoult sigh for the raptures of fondness but vainly
The kisses thy lips will be melting no more

464

The bud from its branches my luckless hand gatherd
Ive ravishd thy charms & woud nourish the tree
Thy beauty is gone ah thy rose bud is witherd
New love cannot warm to look kindly on thee
The world may comend thee as not to knock under
I wish thou maynt prove what I look on wi pain
But I doubt thou wilt find when were countys asunder
The world more decietful then him you disdain

When black gloomy night comes we look for a morning
The skys clear of clouds & suns shine after rain
But alas a long leaving without a returning
Stifle thy scorn & bethink ont again
Wornt near a tear witness repentance inclines thee
I go but o god who my anguish can tell
I go were my fate & misfortunes resign me
& if my heart breaks I must bid thee farwell

[O nature thou art sweet I oft did steal]

O nature thou art sweet I oft did steal
As leisure prompted books into my pouch
Along the pasture or the culturd field
Stretching me down a molhill for my couch

465

MEADOWHAMSTEAD FAIR

Now dust gets laid by days of rain
& leaves gin leave the tree
When labour catches breath again
& fields look bare & blea
Ere autumn ends & winter comes
A fair toils leisure crowns
Renownd for cakes made full o' plumbs
& fun for droving clowns

[Theres not a pleasure half so blest]

Theres not a pleasure half so blest
Save in the heavens above
Then that which bids our sorrows rest
Within the arms of love
Theres not a bliss in heaven springs
To make that mansion dear
But mercey deigns to lend it wings
& guides its journey here

Theres not a thorn so sharply set
As that which life surrounds
Nor has there bloomd a blossom yet
Like love to cure its wounds

466

Its sun emits its brightest ray
From woman true as fair
But darkest horror blinds the way
When treachery harbours there

A WINTERS RAMBLE

How chill the soft air meets ones face & yet
The winds so weak as een the ryhme flake light
On every twig like feathers closly set
Clings unmolestedly from morn till night
A novel shew for those who love to range
In noveltys of nature—hoary scene
To turn to summer now how odd a change
Woods white as is the clouds that once were green

Tho some for pleasure seek the corners bounds
Right glad to hide from winters gloomy days
Listning well pleasd the woodsaps fizzling sounds
Or hoarse ton'd bellows puffing up the blaze
Still there are those that now [&] then does throw
Their doublets over arm & loves like me
To take wild rambles thro the crumpling snow
The novel charms of winters works to see

467

Most beautiful it is to watch by times
The red sun rising with a heatless glow
Till oer the hills tops step by step he climbs
A flaming circle glittering on the snow
& there is beauty in a rising blast
Like fuzzy wool packs creeping from the north
That 'proaches deep'ning into stains at last
As black as midnight ever brought to birth

MANS MORTALITY

Partly from the Scripture

Written in Sickness

Our years look behind us like tales that are told
Our days like to shadows keep passing us bye
That takes a short step to our pillow of mould
& rise on lifes stage like to vapours & dye
As frail as the grass of the meadow is man
His youth like the blossom of summer comes on
That smiles to the sunbeam till autumn turns wan
& the wind passes oer it & bids it be gone

468

Thus one generation keeps passing away
& new generations their places retain
& the friends of our bosom that leave us to day
Shall neer fill the circle of friendship again
They go & their lives as if never begun
In the sleep of the grave shall be heard of no more
In future transactions done under the sun
No portion is left them to act as before

Their exit they make to that awful unknown
& vain we conjecture were now they sojourn
The worlds ways & wealth is no longer their own
To their houses & lands they shall never return
All nature tho sown with mortalitys seed
Some parts will a spark of long living retain
As branches the tree thats hewn down will succeed
But man is too mortal to flourish again

469

Lifes lamp in unscertainty burneth away
A weak waining vapour of doubtfullest light
With cares ever ready to darken its ray
Till death the extinguisher hides it in night
Our friends & our kindred we see them depart
Scant peace of our souls daily tearing away
The dearest of pledges placd nearest the heart
Their memory is all we preserve from decay

Love sweetest of Joy is most bitter to trust
Fates errand before us is constantly set
A time is in waiting to turn into dust
The fairest of faces that love ever met
Death makes no distinction he slays as in night
The wise & the foolish the king & his slave
& beauty that majic of empty delight
All fall at his footstool of terrors—the grave

DRINKING SONG

Fill the foaming cups again
Lets be merry while we may
Man is foolish to complain
When such joys are in his way

470

Cares may breed in peevish minds
Life at best is short & vain
Wisdom takes the joy she finds—
Fill the foaming cups again

Fortune she may slight us boys
Boast her thousands to our crowns
Give to knaves her smiles & joys
We can feast upon her frowns
What care we how rich she be
Present needs but meet supply
Kings may govern so will we—
Foaming cups before we're dry

Fill them foaming oer again
Fill wi' cordial to the brim
Let the peevish soul complain
Care is worthy none but him
Hearts of oak were born to dye
Toast for comforts while we reign
‘Present needs to meet supply—
‘Foaming cups be filld again’

471

LAST OF MARCH

Written at Lolham Brigs

Tho oer the darksome no[r]thern hill
Old ambushd winter frowning flyes
& faintly drifts his threatnings still
In snowy sleet & blackning skyes
Yet were the willow leaning lyes
& shields beneath the budding flower
Were banks to break the wind arise
Tis sweet to sit & spend an hour

Tho floods of winter bustling fall
Adown the arches bleak & blea
Tho snow storms cloath the mossy wall
& hourly whiten oer the lea
Yet when from clouds the sun is free
& warms the learning bird to sing
Neath sloping bank or sheltering tree
Tis sweet to watch the creeping spring

Tho still so early one may spy
& track her footsteps every hour
The daisey with its golden eye
& primrose bursting into flower

472

& snugly were the thorney bower
Keeps off the nipping frost & wind
Excluding all but sun & shower
Their early vi'lets childern find

Here neath the shelving banks retreat
The horse blob swells its golden ball
Nor fears the ‘lady smocks’ to meet
The snows that round the blossoms fall
Here by the arches ancient wall
The antique eldern buds anew
Again the bull rush sprouting tall
The water wrinkles rippling thro

As springs wan herrald april comes
As natures sleep is nearly past
How sweet to hear the wakening hums
Of aught beside the winter blast
Of featherd minstrels first & last
The robins songs again begun
& clearing the skyes long over cast
Larks rise to hail the peeping sun

473

The stirt'ling pewets as they pass
Scream joyous wizzing over head
Right glad the fields & meadow grass
Will quickly hide their carless shed
The rooks were yonder witchens spread
Quawk clamourous to the springs approach
Here silent from its watery bed
To hail its coming leaps the roach

While stalking oer the fields again
In stript defiance to the storms
The hardy seedsmen spread the grain
& all their hopfull toil performs
In flocks the timid pigeon swarms
For scatterd curnells chance may spare
& as the plough unbeds the worms
The crows & magpyes gather there

Yon bullocks low their liberty
The young grass cropping to their fill
& colts from strawyards neighing free
Springs opening promise joys at will
Along the bank beside the rill
The happy lambkins bleat & run
Then weary neath a sheltering hill
Drop basking in the gleaming sun

474

At distance from the waters edge
On hanging thorn boughs farthest stretch
The more hen 'gins her nest of sedge
Safe from destroying boys to reach
Fen sparrows chirp & flye to fetch
The witherd reed down rustling nigh
& by the sunny side the ditch
Prepare their dwelling warm & dry

Again a storm encroaches round
Thick clouds are dark'ning deep behind
& thro the arches hoarsley sound
The risings of the hollow wind
Springs early hopes seem half resignd
& silent for awhile remain
Till sun beams broken clouds can find
& brighten all to life again

Ere yet a hail stone pattering comes
Or dimps the pool the rainy squall
One hears the mighty murmuring hums
The spirit of the tempest call
Here sheltering neath this ancient wall
I still pursue my musing dreams
& as the hail stones round me fall
I mark their bubbles in the streams

475

Reflection here is warmd to sigh
Tradition gives these brigs renown
Tho heedless time long passd em by
Nor thought em worthy noting down
Here in the mouth of every clown
The roman road familiar sounds
All else with everlasting frown
Oblivions mantling mist surounds

These walls the work of roman hands
How may conjecturing fancys pore
As lonley here one calmly stands
On path that age has trampld oer
The builders names are known no more
No spot on earth their memory wears
& crowds reflecting thus before
Have since found graves as dark as theirs

The storm has ceas'd again the sun
The ague shivering season drys
Short winded march thoult soon be done
Thy fainting tempest milder dyes

476

Soon aprils flowers & dappld skyes
Shall spread a couch for lovley may
Upon whose bosom nature lyes
& smiles his joyous youth away

TO THE MEMORY OF KEATS

Thy worldly hopes & fears have pass'd away
No more its trifling thou shalt feel or see
Thy hopes are ripening in a brighter day
While these left buds thy monument shall be
When rancours wounds are past in nought away
Enlarging failings known to more then thee
& beautys feign diminish few display
When these are past thou child of poesey

477

Thou shalt survive—ah while a being dwells
In natures joys with soul to warm as thine
With eye to view her fascinating spells
& dream entranced oer each form divine
Worth wild enthusiast shall be cherish'd here
& thine with him shall linger & be dear

ON ---

Follys a fool that cannot keep her ground
Still fearing foes & showing where to wound
A jealous look can almost turn her sick
& hints not meant oft gauls her to the quick
& hide or shuffle or do what she will
Each mask like glass reflects the picture still
As powder kindles from the smallest spark
Confusion buzes & betrays the mark

478

[Her cheeks did like the roseys glow]

Her cheeks did like the roseys glow
Just opening in its prime
& her bosom heavd as white as snow
Unsulied with a crime

THE LADY FLYE

Tennant of leaves & flowers & glossy stalks
The wild profusion that the summer brings
Hiding in crowding beans & benty balks
Where on the knapweed while the cricket sings
I often watch thee prune thy freckled wings
On the smooth stem advancing yet more high
Till with the help the puffing zepher brings
Thoult all uncase thy under wings & flye
In changing scenes more snug & cool to lye

479

Ah when a cowboy I at ease reclined
Upon a thymy hill & thou wert nigh
What fond enquireys filled my curious mind
How have I watched thy pastimes Lady Fly
& thought thee happiest creature of thy kind

MARTINMASS EVE

Far far away be that ungentle ear
From the rude scene the rural muse employs
That views their artless manners with a snear
& mocks as vulgar labours lowly joys

480

Who now sits happy wi their girls & boys
That do at martinmass from service throng
O silent be that venom that destroys
With scornful pride the harmless simple song
That tells the ways & freaks that to such ways belong

Wi eager joy each to his home returns
Were from the door dames long their coming look
While to neglect the seed cake often burns
& boiling kettles simmer on the hook—
From each fireside the humming wheel is took
& rags for patching up are cleard away
All family conscerns are now forsook
Both old & young are merry now & gay
& keep at Martinmass a rustic holiday

The old men take their pipes & puffs away
& as their gues[t]s comes dropping in a pace
Listens wi pride at what they have to say
Advance of wages at the future place

481

& like old men wi lengthend serious face
Tell how to save their money they will strive
The father judges as is just the case
That their intention is ere long to wive
& gis his legacy in wishing they may thrive

Nor long they keep their matters in the dark
But who they anker after soon confess
The mother then thinks proper to remark
That early marriage hastens on distress
By 'creasing familys—but neer the less
Leaves em to take their choice—still as a friend
Warns em gen noodles that love more to dress
Then sit a stocking or a shirt to mend
As such like things woud stroy all they can rap & rend

Her girls the while by libertys they take
In bringing sweethearts who rebukings fear
As dames makes tea & hands around the cake
Fuss many canting stories in her ear
To urge the strangers welcome to her cheer
Making believe what usfull parts theyd taen
That more then light love 'ticd em to appear
Lugging home boxes that behind might laen
Had they not been so kind as brought em home again

Others more late oer taken in the night
By safer means the dames good humour wins
Wi mirey roads & many a woeful plight
Soon as they enter re[a]dily begins

482

& shows how theyre near battld to their chins
& had not partners helpd em on their way
How theyd bin lost as sure as pins is pins
Who cleans their shoes without in wishd delay
Sneaking behind till known what the old folks will say

At length alls right & every hearts at rest
The tea is done & things are set aside
& from the purses of each moneyd guest
The shillings humble lowance to provide
Each daughter simpers wi a joyous pride
To find her sweetheart is no churlish swain
& soon wis drop the father is supplyd
Whos cheeks gin redden wi the crimson stain
& soon his spirits rise & he gins talk amain

& soon the beer gins loosen every tongue
His chair each stranger edges nigher in
Nor longer shamd when bidden sings his song
& ventures chuck his lassey neath the chin
& to her parents crack about his kin
What they can give him when wi service done
In marriage matters he intends begin
Who think their daughters no bad luck has won
& kindly drinks the health of each intended son

Some telling how that providence had blest
Wi little family their parents lot
& how to strive theyd ever done their best
Their warey father being no sensless sot—

483

Some cracking proudly what their friends had got
How they their fat hogs never faild to kill
& treat wi' home brew'd stingo or what not
Their friends at merry christmass to their fill
& boild their corner chine let times be as they will

& as the pastime of the night is come
Some smokes some sings some deals the cards about
As every bosom feels itself at home
Each does as suits him best—& from the rout
Wi beckoning looks the lovers slinketh out
Or seeks the nook were darkness lends a screen
Nor does the old folks longer have a doubt
That their new commers harmfull roguries mean
So leaves em at their will to kiss & toy unseen

Their own boys braggings din their fathers ear
To gain his worthy praise what they can do
& what theyve learned in the last gone year
How they can take all jobs the season thro'
& plough & sow—he gis the 'plauses due
& dryly smiling bids em turn & see
What wonderous changes time has brought to view
Sin they wi him had stodgling us'd to be
Unable then to work & scarce so highs his knee

484

Aye they all 'member well such happy days
& trifles tell that once had powers to please
Counting the names of favourd sports & plays
& how for nests they clamberd up the trees
& chased harmless butterflyes & bees
As they afield their fathers dinner took
& how when mowing on the meadow leas
He sent em fill his bottle from the brook
Were they in dabbling sport their errands oft forsook

& then he begs em for his heart is warm
Theyll not forsake him as his head grows grey
When worn too weak his labours to perform
He meets the parish for his weekly pay
As hes done much for them—altho they may
Get better cloahs then he coud 'ford to buy
& more of plenty—yet he'd bound to say
A better friend then him they neer came high
To which they one & all most readily comply

& 'fore they shun him sooner shall the sun
Forget his rising & his setting hour
Then they look oer what he for them has done
Or fail to 'turn it when they have the power—
& his old cloahs thread bare to wind & shower
Een makes em now their gratitude pursue
& ere ins mug he gins the ale to pour
To drink the blessing—every purse is drew
To remedy his need & purchase garments new

485

& here the muse might put her bonnet bye
& in her apron lay her reed at rest
& her rush bottomd chair be hitching nigh
To be an hour the rude assemblys guest
Each rude recited tale & simple jest
To listen to that fails not them to please
Or urge the laugh—if patience she possest
To bear the rudness of such tribes as these
Wild as were those of old housd neath their forest trees

Some joking humourous oer the funning pranks
Which they at last years statute chancd to view
As how while listning to the mountebanks
Some poor old dame the crowd was crushing thro
& lost her stick & scapd wi much ado
Laming her foot whose cure she sought to know
By seeking salve the quack held out to view
That made all corns as soon as touchd to go
& curd the very plague as easy as a toe

Some telling fears which night brought on apace
As they near darklings came by break neck hill
Which passd when childern as an haunted place
& sure enough they thought old labourer will
Despisd his grave & kept his station still
Just were he tumbld from the load & dyd
Saying as how their very blood ran chill
Till 'proaching nearer to't they haply spyd
Twas but an old white cow close by the hedgrow side

Others discoursing on their last gone year
What teazing work they had to wittle thro
How worse then water was the groutish beer
& as to cheeses—'cept when nearly new

486

So hard the hatchet scarce coud cleave in two
& tough old backon—fatted brawn or sow
& barley bannock often mouldy thro
& poor bad horses theyd near known till now
More fit by half fors Lordships dogs then plough

& thus they prate their father half asleep
Who for his heart & soul tho tryd & feign
Unusual hours awaken cannot keep
Unmeaning hums he turns each jogging swain
Tries puff his pipe—& dozes oert again
Till all around him sees hes done his best
& from entreaties further does refrain
The old dame potters out to call the rest
& supper gins prepare & welcomes every guest

Their darkling joys each juggling couple leaves
& to the humble banquet hustle down
Telling as how while staning neath the eaves
They heard the rantings of some drunken clown
& fiddles somwere scraping in the town
& gis it out a dancing there must be
& each lass 'grees to slip on better gown
& after supper take a walk & see
Wi their admiring swains to keep em company

While one in dumps broods on the corner stool
Their elder daughter doomd to worst of fate
Who made one slip in love & playd the fool
&s since condemnd to live without a mate

487

No youth again courts once beguiled kate
Tho hopes of sweethearts still perplex her head
& charm to try by gipseys told of late
From table slives unseen an onion red
To dream at martinmass with whom she is to wed

& as the shadowd shifting joys of hope
Is all the comfort kit can call to mind
When for the dancing sports the rest elope
She wi the old folks patient stays behind
To bed retiring full of hopes to find
The charm succeed—till the returning day
Proves gipseys wisdom empty as the wind
& all her hopes & money thrown away
Leaving her blighted youth to wither & decay

ADDRESS TO TIME

In fancys eye what an extended span
Time, hoary herrald has been stretchd by thee
Vain to concieve were thy dark burst began
Thou birthless endless vast stupendity

488

To mortal wisdom thourt already ran
A circled travel of Eternity
Vain all consceptions of weak minded man
Thee to unravel from thy mystery
Still but a moment of thy mighty plan
Seems yet unwound from what thou art to see
Consuming tyrant of all mortal kind
& what thou art & what thou art to be
Is known to none but that immortal mind
Who reigns alone superior to thee

[I urge no muse new terrors to impart]

I urge no muse new terrors to impart
To load the tender soul with fancyd fears
To blight the feelings of the mild of heart
& force from eyes a mockerey of tears—
Few conjuring fancys in my theme appears
The trials [that] life & nature undergo
Two tender lovers born to clouded years
Hopes nipt in stones that closd oer days below
Makes up this tender tale of unpretending woe

489

I draw no pictures of imagind strife
Fancys deep plots & terrors here are few
This simple story on the map of life
Who ever cons that motley page may view
& find those simple tales alas too true
Tho high raisd souls may scorn so mean a lay
Who from romances all their pity drew
Yet are there tender maids as fair as they
Shall read this tale in tears & pitys tribute pay

Love is immortal tho its partner hope
Leads it to future worlds & dissapears
Yet shall not love from faithful souls elope
Or be forgotten in the lapse of years
Then be thou faithful & dry up thy tears
Cease those heart breaking sighs & be thou blest
God is thy friend o dissapate thy fears
Father of all the tenderest the best
We both in heaven shall meet & love & be at rest

[The eve winds of autumn blow chilly & hollow]

The eve winds of autumn blow chilly & hollow
& leaves from our bower love[s] shelter has fell
& high in the air flock the martin & swallow
Retreating from tempests they truly foretell
Crizzled ryhmes on our rambles intrude late & early
& rains drizzle oft from the cloud frowning sky
No longer eve brings us our pleasures to parley
The free sweets of love & of summer is bye

490

& now ye mun bide wi the brunts o' yer mamey
& crood over the fire in yer damps for awhile
For unlike the pleasures ye met wi yer sammey
When set side by side on a mol hill or stile
& fail ye not love of a hint dropt in season
To coax the old dame that yer lover may come
& if shes cross hoppled & deaf to all reason
Why then break yer tether & meet me from home

For come snow or rain or the foulest of weather
Hark sue to my consils & well ye may know
Theres nothing shall keep us from meeting together
If yer hearts as my heart blow high or blow low
& as the eves shorten & hurkle in colder
& as the brook crizzles & snows sither down
Yeve nothing to fear—throw yer cloak oer yer shoulder
& meet me as wont at the end of the town

[If one summers day ye will bid care adieu love]

If one summers day ye will bid care adieu love
If one summers day yell take me for your true love
& down in the valley sweet pleasures pursue love
Yell think ont wi joy to the hour that ye dye
Ill take ye to seats that are soft wi green rushes
Ill take ye to bowers that are sweet wi rose bushes
Ill take ye to springs that oer white pebles rushes
& sings to your slumbers a wild lullaby

491

So come my sweet lassey & bid care adieu love
& say it I will & vow to ye true love
That you I admire & alone admire you love
What ere be the doubts brings the tear in yer eye
So throw by yer fears & once but believe me
& then ye will see if I meant to decieve thee
& then ye will prove love I neve[r] will leave thee
Nor make ye repent till the day that ye dye

[When dews pearl the blossom]

When dews pearl the blossom
The hue is more charming
When tears hang on beauty
The look is more warming

The rose bud is sweetest
The less its in blossom
Ere bees have the freedom
To lodge in its bosom

The lips winging fragrance
To love is best known
To the swain that first tasteth
When prest to his own

492

[Where on bridge wall or gate or trees smooth bark]

Where on bridge wall or gate or trees smooth bark
Curois[i]ty oft leaves the pad to mark
The artless vanity of village swains
Who spend a leisure hour with patient pains
& put to sculptors purposes the knife
To spin a cobweb for an after life
In rudest forms that untought sience frames
Nicking the letters of their little names
Pleasd with the feeblest shadow of renown
That warms the bosom of the humblest clown

WINTER

The small wind wispers thro the leafless hedge
Most sharp & chill while the light snowey flakes
Rests on each twig & spike of witherd sedge
Resembling scatterd feathers—vainly breaks

493

The pale split sunbeam thro the frowning cloud
On winters frowns below—from day to day
Unmelted still he spreads his hoary shroud
In dithering pride on the pale travellers way
Who croodling hastens from the storm behind
Fast gathering deep & black—again to find
His cottage fire & corners sheltering bounds
Where haply such uncomfortable days
Makes musical the woodsaps fizzling sounds
& hoarse loud bellows puffing up the blaze

HOPE

This world has suns but they are overcast
This world has sweets but theyre of lingering bloom
Life still expects & empty falls at last
Warm Hopes on tiptoe drops into the tomb

494

Lifes journeys rough—hope seeks a smoother way
& dwells on fancys which tomorrows see
Tomorrows come—true copys of today
& empty shadows of what is to be
Yet cheated hopes on future still depends
& ends but only when our living ends
I long have hopd & still shall hope the best
Till heedless weeds are scrambling over me
& hopes & ashes both together rest
At journeys end with them that cease to be

TO AUTUMN

Come pensive autumn with thy clouds & storms
& falling leaves & pastures lost to flowers
A luscious charm hangs on thy faded forms
More sweet then summer in its lovliest hours

495

Who in her blooming uniform of green
Delights with samely & continued joy
But give me autumn were thy hand hath been
For there is wildness that can never cloy
The russet hue of fields left bare & all
The tints of leaves & blossoms ere they fall
In thy dull days of clouds a pleasure comes
Wild music softens in thy hollow winds
& in thy fading woods a beauty blooms
Thats more then dear to melancholly minds

[As lingers winter oer the forward spring]

As lingers winter oer the forward spring
To blight the blooms each budding shoot had made
So death did hover his frost nipping wing
To blast the hopes his early youth displayd

The youth whose worth twoud be but Vain to praise
Which once hopes sunbeams smiled sweetly on
The dear companion of my early days
To you I prizd & all I prizd is gone

How oft the fields together have we tracd
How often searchd the briary woods among
& up & down each edgerow have we pacd
Fancying a nest where every bird has sung

496

O that sweet peace we once together knew
Unmindful of change while pleasures reignd
Which memorys sighs so oft returns to view
Which sorrows tongue so often has explaind

When freed from school we passd the summer hour
& carless wanderd many a mile from home
Stretchd by a brook or pausing oer a flower
We talkd in rapture oer our joys to come

[How eager does he eddy round]

How eager does he eddy round
To seek his peace & rest
& blest [to] know where peace is found
Drops happy in his nest

Ah pleasures but in vain displayd
My lot to discommode
Where hope but checkers up the shade
To show my gloomy road

Alas to me no home belongs
But what my dreams create
Vain cuckoo like I sing my songs
& leave the rest to fate

497

BALLAD

[O Ope thy door—loud howls the wind]

O Ope thy door—loud howls the wind
On my nak'd misery
Tho thou to me hast provd unkind
I meant no harm to thee
Im loath to break thy peacful rest
But chilly falls the rain
The storm cuts deep my bared breast
But not like thy disdain

Loves tender pledge wi' in my arms
Is numb'd & breaths no more
O if thy heart wi pity warms
Awake & ope thy door
I have no cloaths to shelter me
A fathers scorn I flye
Worse pelts the storm love pity me
Or at thy door I dye

Thus wailing oer her woes—a maid
To her seducer came
Who won her heart—her love betrayd
& left her to her shame
The shelter of her house denyd
Her fathers scorn she bore
Here to her false loves house she hied
‘O william ope thy door’

The storm I longer cannot stand
My covering is but thin
My babe falls from my knumbing hand
O wake & let me in

498

That once red cheek is cold to touch
That warmd in thine embrace
When kissd & praisd by the[e] so much
& ownd a lovly face

But cropt by thee my bloom is gone
—Loves pledge in death doth sleep
O bitter cold the storms keeps on
I woud but cannot weep
Ah wilt thou not my false love wake
—In vain the maiden cried
Benumbd wi cold her heart did brake
She sat her down & dyd

SONG

[I tell thee love I love thee dear]

I tell thee love I love thee dear
& still thoult not believe
Deception thoust a right to fear
But not that I'll decieve
The coxcombs flattery plain we see
His tongue but acts his part
But when I mention love to thee
It ecchoes from the heart

Say not I flatter when I sue
As like the rest o men
Stay till thou provst my flattery true
& disregard me then

499

Of all the vows thoust heard from me
My hearts has signd the whole
& every word of love to thee
Are breathings of the soul

S.

Yon cot holds all thats dear to me
From whence the breeze is blowing
Where still my heart must prisner be
Where every wish is going
Coud she love me as I love her
Enough of bliss wer given
A fair to equal I aver
Woud but be found in heaven

Id fain be of black arts possest
A magic proof to find
To lay unbare her ivory breast
& know its tenants mind
As I love her coud she love me
Enough of bliss wer given
An earthly immortality
Id want no more of heaven

500

[O even tide o even tide]

O even tide o even tide
How dear to me thy time does prove
Along the green or woods dark side
To lead the lass I dearly love
Wi thee her fears meets no alarm
I take a kiss when none can see
None marks my fond embracing arm
O even thou art sweet to me

At tell tale day we meet we pass
Love scarce dare look a smiling eye
The village eyes are on the lass
& mouths are open for a lye
O welcome eve thy smutty face
Now thou art come shes nought to fear
Or free to kiss or to embrace
Sweet eventide thourt doubly dear

‘BUTTON CAP’

The thresher he had gen it up
& left the rats & mice to sup
In chimbling luxury oer his corn
In unmolested peace till morn
In short the day wer wittl'd thro
& dames had shut their shutters too

501

& bangd their doors upon the night
To mimic day wi candle light
& all the village wer at rest
& all its tenants haply blest
As aught in winter coud desire
Warming their shins before the fire
‘Tis comfortable thus to find’
(As in their chimney howld the wind)
‘A humble dwelling oer ones head’
To's wife old thresher robin sed
‘Bless god’ sed joan ‘we had our cares
‘Till him above as heard our prayers’
& stopt her weel to 'turn him thanks
When some one gis the door a spank
& haloos out in wofull plight
‘Mistress bestow a bed to night’
Two trampers they of spatterd forms
That many a mile had bet the storms
When they wi sixpence wer befriended
But they must smoke their pipes & end it
Two brother chips for Oroonoko
Who champt it up as well as smokd too
Who when want pincht as't often did
Woud live thier days upon a quid
‘Poor souls’ sed goody ‘ar’ ye rangers?
(Old women love to question strangers)
From wence may ye a com'd to day
A rare long walk I dare to say
Ha ye No hom from wence ye come
No sed the men ‘we havnt’—‘hum’
‘What may yer names be tom or John’
& so till day shed questiond on

502

& wound no doubt wen that wer done
A tale as longs the thread she'd spun
Had not rob thrown his fillings in
& stopt wi dissaproving grin
There stood old nick as black as soot
Wi monstrous horns & cloven foot
Dogs cock their tails when they are pleasd
& sweep the ground wi'm when their teazd
Old nicks tail traild the ground at least
As longs three tails o Lincoln beast
He hung his munge most dismally
As doubtful how the case migh[t] be
& pickt his nose & bits thumb nail
So markt the dame that told the tale
O nickey thou wert quite a fool
So longs thoust bin a boy at school
Thy wit that time were 'tirely lost
So much as thou had usd to boast
When ye took adams matey in
& rund old david into sin
& started up wi turkish pride
Wi mad cap nations on yer side
& brought old 'hommid in yer game
To 'xalt yer fall & praise yer name
Ye must a crazd yer sen sin' then
Or ye might made a tool o ben
Had ye but helt him in excuse
A froathing quart o barly juice
& sed here benny tek a sip
(Ye ned not 'xcuse yer devil ship)
Hed card not ' rush for horns or tail
Nor whence ye cem had ye but ale
He'd calld ye brother chip wi pride
& instant joind yer smutty side
‘Aye that I wul wi all my hart
‘& fill me but anuther quart
‘& broach yer cags & yer m brother
‘Old nickys ales as goods anuther’

503

So ben had sed & kept yer gall
& clasht about the flying ball
& won the game & gin yer porter
Anuther cunjurd soul to torture
But ye stood glo'ring in yer gall
As if Ye lay for ben an' all
Looking as sour as dogs that bite
& often showing venom spite
Wi many unfair tugs & grins
Instead the ball oft kicking shins
This warnt the way to bribe yer game
Ben sed yer meaness told yer name
Who now had gotten out o bed
Whiles mate wi fear lay a most ded
Oer head & Ears the Clo'hs beneath
Who dursnt f---t nor tek his breth
—‘All fair above board’ haloos ben
Tis too to bad nick one to ten
But never mind friend button cap
Thous bin to me a hearty chap
& gen me beer wi beck'ning thump
As free as water from the pump
& for thy service here I stan’
To face old nickys topping man
To box their shins as wells the ball
Ill keep the game thou keep the gall
& if theres ony bothering cavel
Wi that old horrid Cloven d---l
Wis grizld cheeks & stump a-grundy
Like witching chaps at plowing monday
Ill collar him & rap his pegs
‘& mek him lame o both his legs’—
So wi a cautiond shout agen
‘All fair abuv board haloos ben’
So then begun the vengful test
The ball flew up all did his best
Scuffing about in panting pluther
Now this side trembld then the tother

504

Nick sours a crab stuck in the gall
& drove his imps to kick the ball
Who spites o bennys fair comand
Who cud fly about wi ball i hand
Ben be his courage ere so good
He wer but mortal flesh & blood
He had no wings their flight to follow
He coud but on his matey hollow
Mind mind freend button cap he bawls
Keep up yer eye & watch yer galls
& sure enough old button cap
He provd a watchful wary chap
No imp the d---l ownd wer deeper
He provd an exelent gall keeper
& had (good luck for ben) to 'herit
All power like them of being a spirit
Or else poor ben l---d help thy courage
Thoud been no more then chip i porridge
Thoud bin no more then candle snuffing
Wi all thy kicking & thy cuffing
Theyd won the game—& then pell melling
As safes a button sent thee helling
But button cap kept ope his eyes
& like the swallow a'ter flies
Pickt at the imps that thrust the ball
& at defiance held em all
Now here now there wi vengful sonse
He coud be twenty ways at once
Good boy ben halood mid the strife
A better mate in all my life
I never had—hoy dash away
There thats yer sorts well show em play
His matey never spok a wo'd
But seemly thankt him wi a nod
Just then the ball wi wirling dance
Rolld up to ben ah nows my chance

505

To hav a kick sed he & plague ye
Nick quakt as tho hed had the ague
Spank went his foot wue went the ball
I' spite o hell it throught the gall
There there sed ben weve won the trick
& then fell foul to rally nick
To call him nick names sware & laugh
& bid tucks tail up & be off
Deep groans began & wi a clash
Up rattld every window sash
As if—(twas sich a smashing stroke)
One pain warnt left but what wer broke
Who woud but fancy there wer hurt
It made bens courage even sturt
He thought ons mate fo' comp'ny sake
& woud a calld but coudnt spake
Nick fled—& ragd wi benny scoffing
As blacks a pall upon a coffin
He hoppld ben wi dismal night
& switcht his tail round every light
& wi a shriek that mades head ring
He took his flight on owlets wing
Weres my old brave gall keeping chap
Thought ben tos sen—poor button cap
Scarce had he thought when feet step by
& murmurs wisper ‘here am I’
While hands as cold as ony stone
Lay hold o his'n & tug on
Thro long dark passages they prowl
& 'sturb the rest of many an owl
The wall all green wi staining damps
Seen now & then by glimering lamps
That in their sockets twink about
As on the point o burning out

506

Some rooms wer dark & then agen
Lamps glimmerd oer the head o ben
But all wer dark at lower space
Ben coudnt see his pardners face
Or wether button cap or who
It might be nick for all he knew
But still the cold hand kept his guide
& som'at shadowd at his side
The rats kept meking helish rout
Dread haunters here I mek no doubt
To keep the village louts i fear
& 'ter em all throm sleeping here
The walls wer gul'd & bennys eye
Were often blest wi' bits o' sky
Who hob'd his way as wells he coud
Oer heaps o stone & beams o wood
That had thro age & wet fell in
& often gen em bruisd his shin
But what use all these scriptive doings
All kens the state o' halls i ruins
Agen a lamp hung twinkling oer
A low old arched mulldering door
Bens courage stuntly made a halt
He thought em entering i a vault
As satans cunning might contrive
To lead & bury 'im int alive
But alls no use the door unlockt
Twas just as button cap had mockt
Ben hung & fain a woudnt gone
But step fo step the hand tugd on
He counted 20 steps or more
Ere hed got down upon the floor
When wonderful fo ben to say
But wound about a different way
It wer the very self same cellar
Were button cap had made him mellow

507

The candle still the barrel topt
The cock still wi its broaching dropt
Bens mouth een waterd for a sup
But for his life he coudnt stoop
His old friend wi his buttond parrel
Did not as usual crown the barrel
& were he wer he coudnt say
Spirits at blindmans bluff can play
Unseen as distant many a mile
& be't our elbows all the while
Ben neer had seen his mate at all
Sin twer his luck to kick the ball
A voice had wisperd by his side
That told hed button cap fo guide
Thats all he knew—& instantly
His eyes wer opt his mate to see
Tho not as he wer usual clad
His button cap had left his head
Instead o jacket he'd a sheet
That swept the ground behind his feet
But still the old face as before
A coward villains mistery wore
His ey[e]s all blackt blood cloted thick
That made ben think hed fit wi nick
His bosom too wer deeply gasht
& blood spots on the sheet wer splasht
& as his hand let go his vest
Ben saw the death wound in his breast
L---d helps says ben—the spell wer broke
& button cap that instant spoke
‘I am thy father thourt my child’
Thus bluntly sed the shade & smild
As wrinkld his cheeks from pleasure found
Blood spurted fresh from every wound
‘My father!’ wisperd wondering ben
Ill bring that subject up agen

508

Well father who hath made thee bleed
My son thy uncle did the deed
Well father hows this mistery run
That brings ben in to be thy son
My lawful son thou art & heir
Thy mother wer a lady fair
Nine moons upon her comforts smild
& then she left an orphan child
To ease a widowd bosoms wound
I pilgrim like sought foreign ground
& in my abscence from my cares
Thy uncle wer to farm affairs
I put thee to a faithful nurse
I thought so tho she provd a curse
& then esayd to leave my hall
Departing day thy dregs wer gall
My soul still chills wi memorys bitters
My spirit still wi horror twitters
My brothers treachorous parting tear
(We wer but two) I thought sincere
& seemly loath wi me to part
Twas sunset ere I made a start
At 2 mile end a forest grew
My lonly road rund twining thro
& scarcley led me half across
When some maskt ruffian stopt my horse
Another dragd me from his back
Mong briars & thorns where none coud track
I drew my sword but ill prepard
Gen 4 stout villan brutes to guard
Thus fell thy father—gen he smild
& thus I prove that thourt my child

509

& then he points to stone & wall
There lye the writings of the hall
& turn that slab up on the floor
Of riches thou wilt want no more
& seek that chamber of the hall
Were thou didst kick the fancyd ball
Thoult find i bed rip it apart
The will I made ere I did part
The all is thine & thou shalt see
Thy uncle hangd on gallows tree
He sed—the candle flared blue
& he more dimly slunk from view
Ben anxious still for clearing up
The misteries of the chamber troop
Why they at foot ball made such pluther
& hoxt so spiteful one another
& red hot reasons to explore
Whys dad a button night cap wore
Ben started these & waits reply
The spirits answer wer a sigh
Ben at the silence wer amazd
& on the shifty specter gaz'd
Who met bens eye as wisht to shun
As looks the mist upon the sun
& siled lower down & lower
As seemly sinking i the floor
Ben on the candle turnd him sen
To see if darkness threats agen
Just as the conjurer turns his trick
At waverings of his magic stick
That moment as he turnd his head
& lookt agen the spirit fled
Twas wondrous feth & he did seem
As tho hed wakt & dreampt a dream
But still the slab did plainly lye
& hole i wall was fore his eye
The deed wer husht none coud unravell
Folks fancyd that I dyd on travel

510

They instant rapt me in a sheet
& dug a grave wher none coud see't
The spot all round wi briars beset
Where lye my bones a witness yet
Upon a oak the night hawks rave
& gen its root thoult find my grave
Thy uncle now possest my hall
But short his glory in my fall
I haunted him both day & night
& forct him soon to leave my right
My land & wealth he still possest
But there wi gilt I prick't his breast
& black magicians now he sees
To conjure me & be at ease
They come their hellish arts prevail
& me they bind in pipe of ale
That very Cask I erst did sup
When thou nicknam'd me button cap
Nor foot sin' then but thine (thro fear)
Hav' never dard to enter here
Weve stud full many a brunt o weather
& begd crust oft have broke to gether
& when our bacco run adrift
& drove us both to pinch & shift
Weve over hawld wi cheery heart
‘Old solders’ from our cheek to part
Two brother chips weve always bin
& stood old fortunes sourest grin
& if Im not mistook ere while
Old boy were like to share her smile
I sure smel hid gold as we believ'd
Or else Ive dreamt & d---d decievd

511

[Stingo white froathing oer the polisht can]

Stingo white froathing oer the polisht can
Thou boast thou glory of the English man
Thou downright death to every care & strife
Thou best of charms to foil a scolding wife
Known by the name of nappy ale or beer
Nicknamd ‘old stout’ ‘nock down’ & ‘barley cheer’
Tis thee I sing do thou thy strength infuse
& warm my song I ask no better muse
If woes distress me let me charm my soul
Where the bell calls to c---h wi out a knoll

MY HAT

Some stretch their necks & crow for fame
& sing high flights to win a name
& lack-a-day oft miss their game
I well see that
For me alas Ive no such aim
To sing my hat

512

The reader he may wink his fiz
& laugh tills a most fit to p*ss
To think what means the fool by this
Rare fun enough
& Critics they may grin & hiss
& call it stuff

I care not what they say or do
An honest frends worth looking too
(Known now adays god knows to few)
My hats my all
Ill gi the poor old boy his due
He stood his stall

3 years (I neer can make him 'mends)
Thro hardships that such time attends
Sunshine & shower he stood his ends
Head happy down
Till time that parts the best of friends
Tore out his crown

L---d g*d what days weve had to gether
What checkerd times what sorts o weather
What heaps & heaps o ‘rhyming blether’
Hes heard me sing
To day a beggar at wants tether
The next a king

513

New from the shop it minds me near
How we on Sundays ust appear
Mong blushing bitches ever dear
God reads my heart
I think I cant help shed a tear
That we must part

But surley time for nought will stay
He wittles every charm away
My sen his summons must obey
As well as my hat
Neighbours keep dropping day by day
To minds o that

514

ADDRESS TO A COPY OF ‘CLARES POEMS’ SENT O. GILCHRIST ESQR

To thine & mine our topmost friend
I send this little book & know too
Thou wilt not wish at journeys end
A better set of friends to go to
Theyre none o' those where pride prevails
As fine to thee as they may seem
Hadst thou for author prince of w---s
Thoudst meet no more from their esteem

& plain & simple as ye seem
In value scarcly worth a groat
I know yell meet a friends esteem
& doubtless get a gilded coat

515

L---d knows I coudnt help but laugh
To see ye fixt among yer betters
Upon the learned shelves set off
& flas[h]t about wi golden letters

& then I know thy spark o' pride
Set off in this exalted station
Strouted i' glass case side to side
Mong wits of a'most every nation
Shoud thee & me chance meet again
When all this kindness to thee's shown
Thoult turn thy nose up wi' disdain
& thinkt disgrace thy dad to own

Jan 21. 1820

[To wish thee anguish worse then hell]

To wish thee anguish worse then hell
The anguish past revealing
Is but to wish thee half the pain
That my own heart is feeling

516

[Dear native spot though nought to thee is given]

Dear native spot though nought to thee is given
That boasts of majesty—no mountain high
Where earths rude sounds may mix with those of heaven
No river flood that dashes proudly bye
With mighty speed—no jagged rocks that lie
Blocks piled on blocks by architect divine
Like wrecks of other worlds—yet to the eye
Of poesy full many charms are thine
Green vales & tinkling brooks & pastures thronged with kine

& thy old woods as yet can claim & call
Thy native oak thy own that proudly towers
Boast of thy nation & the dread of all
& though the slighting sun & chilly showers

517

Cloaths with dank cold thy winters ague hours
Nor gives the eternal blooms some countrys claim
Yet thy sweet daughters are thy lovliest flowers
& thy rough sons that still uphold thy name
Hardened amid thy storms grow ripe for toil & fame

The same sun year by year doth daily shine
Upon thy vales & brooks that lowly lie
That shines on kingdoms reckoned half divine
& the like covering of a wilder sky
Frowns on thy breast in clouded majesty
Nor finds an older soil in any clime
While the proud fingers of antiquity
Unfolds a scroll of glory fame & time
& bids thee claim thy share & struggle on sublime

Tis beautiful this wild mysterious world
That like a dream has been & still dwells on
Empires & states upon its breast are hirled
Like shadows in to nothing & are gone
But still they leave it like a might[y] one
Unconquered with fresh presevering crowds
Who quickly find their graves as those have done
& though the sky awaits as the worlds shroud
Its mystery still endures majestically proud

518

Memory & time deciples unto fame
Cloaths her with pomp & grandeur leaving thee
A beauty spot on beautys form—the claim
Of natures unknown lovers such as me
Where childhood youth & manhood all agree
To love & praise thee for thy self alone
Let fortune wander my hearts home shall be
Thy memorys beauty—felt not all alone
For fireside memorys now doth mingle with my own

RICH AND POOR; OR SAINT AND SINNER

The rich mans sins are under
The rose of wealth & station
& escape the sight
Of the children of light
Who are wise in their generation

But the poor mans sins are glaring
In the face of all ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act
Buying greens on a sunday morning

519

The rich man has a kitchen
Wherein to cook his dinner
But the poor who would roast
To the bakers must post
& thus he becomes a sinner

The rich man has a cellar
& a ready butler by him
The poor man must steer
For his pint of beer
Where the saint is sure to spy him

The rich man's open windows
Hide the concerts of the quality:
The poor can but share
A crack'd fiddle in the air,
Which offends all sound morality.

The rich man is invisible
In the crowd of his gay society
But the poor mans delight
Is a sore in the sight
& a stench in the nose of piety

[The balmy breathing of her voice that breaks]

The balmy breathing of her voice that breaks
In heavleny music on our ravishd ears
Singing the utterers beauty while she speaks
The curling hair & blue eye rich with tears

520

The soft cheek flushd with hope or pale with fears
The swelling breast who coud its heart betray
The love the sigh that tenderly endears
Women possest these charms in lifes young day
& they possess them on to wile our hearts away

[How dread insensible death seems to be]

How dread insensible death seems to be
Till all seems nothing with us when we dye
Memory love hope & joy all flee
As doth a gilt cloud from an evening sky
Spring flowers unconsious wraps us were we lye
& living feet tread oer our bones beneath
We hear them not—the robin tutles nigh
Suns shine the same winds wake springs balmy breath
& we in darkness still seem sleeping on with death

521

[Thy smiles are dear to him that needs thy smiles]

Thy smiles are dear to him that needs thy smiles
He feels their raptures in no less degree
Then bolder votarys whose ambition toils
Up the steep road of immortality
& while their souls expand & rise with thee
On humbler wings with unpresuming powers
He shares a portion of thy extacy
Hiding among thy valleys brooks & bowers
Cheerd by thy sunny smiles with other lowly flowers

[Lifes bud unseals in extacy & joy]

Lifes bud unseals in extacy & joy
In heavenly spots we never dream to leave
Een ruffian cares seem lingering to destroy
& fate itself is loath to undecieve
The idle cobwebs childhoods fancys weave

522

FRAGMENTS

Natures sweet bard of spring the sable bee
Hums round each cottage wall its minstrelsy
& the gay wasp in its stript jacket comes
To sunny banks in terryfying hums
Waking the herd boys fears that ramble nigh
& threatning vengance to each passer bye

Swarthy yet lovly by each zepher fand
As the soft cheek of milkmaids summer tan'd

Glad as loves hope that meets the maidens smile
Its soul adores interpreting the while
Such things to the souls wishes fond & sweet
Till the heart aches with joy

The moon smiles beautiful as springs soft even
& gleams on nights dark beautys like an heaven

The columbine & deep stone blue
There honey comb indented heads hang down
Each cottage gardens fond adopted child
Tho heaths still claim them were they yet grow wild

& smooth voicd cuckoo singing as she flyes

& brooks bright waters that in music creep
& lulls tird silence into sounder sleep

523

[The brook from its fountain rock drop after drop]

The brook from its fountain rock drop after drop
Mutterd lonly & hid on its half buried way
Were shades on each side grew & met at the top
& made it seem night in the midst of the day
The dove hid her there were its foes rarly pass
Far away from the haunts of the rude netterd boy
& the brown bee its honey hurds in the tall grass
Were the mower neer comes with a scythe to destroy

[The joys of childhood are full thickly sown]

The joys of childhood are full thickly sown
To no false paths their laughing hopes are driven
Fates dooms are writ in languages unknown
No cares disturb lifes road is smooth & even
& joy in plainest characters is given
Their hopes yet travel short & blossom green
Their home is bliss & should they dream of heaven
Tis but to be as they before have been
The dark graves gulph is nought nor thrusts its shade between

524

They feel no chilling fears they dread no blast
That care may bring them for he comes not there
They paint the coming future from the past
The unknown with the known is painted fair
What they have shared they still believe to share
In ignorance of sorrows they are blest
& should lifes sunset ere it rise to care
They drop away like one that dreams of rest
In natures quiet sleep as on a mothers breast

& such art thou my cherub hope & love
Did bid me call thee so—I cant repine
Though thou art now anothers blest above
With better joys & better care then mine
& mixed with cherubs that are all divine
Creeds disagree—no matter—thourt at rest
No sin no care on this vain earth was thine
If thou art not—religions all a jest
But why should parents doubt my cherub thou art blest

Thou scaped all anguish that grows up with man
All doubts & fears & terrors that ensue
When reason gains on thought a mighty span
& stretches round the mind a boundless view
That ends in mist—where truth however true
Must have its doubt to shadow by its side
Knowledge in vain the glimmering lights pursue
Till night comes on then throws his book aside
& trusts his all to Hope a sweet deceiving guide

525

Dull is that memory vacant is that mind
Where no sweet visions of the past appears
Cold is that bosom that can look behind
On scenes of childhood & withold its tears
The hut where sick life spent its early years
The Pond where stones at duck & drake were hurled
The wormwood hills which many a play endeared
The doors smooth stone where humming tops were twirld
O these are spots of peace the heavens of this world

Hard is that heart affecting to despise
The verse that sings in childhoods simple praise
Bound to our memory with the tenderest ties
The all we found in this lifes thorny ways
Of real happiness & golden days
Where is the soul can say it finds again
The unfiegnd pleasure that their loss repays
The artless extacys unknown to pain
If hope should this believe O she will look in vain

526

O I could tell for aye & never tire
The simple trifles infancy supplys
O I could view for ever & admire
The gilded prospects of its painted skys
Lifes fair may morning & that sweet sunrise
The many rambles that I wandered then
O I do love the simple theme that tries
To lead us back to happiness agen
& make our cares awhile forget that we are men

Joy comes to childhoods hours uncalled & mild
As in her summer paths it loved to stray
But soon it grows untractable & wild
& from mans ripening doom it shoys away
As one grown cloyed & wearied out with play
Like to a young bird caught upon its nest
It seems at first to fondle in delay
But when its wings are in their feathers drest
It flutters from the hand & shuns its former guest

527

Fancy spreads edens wheresoere they be
The world breaks on them like an opening flower
Green joys & cloudless skys are all they see
The hour of childhood is a roseys hour
Smiling along in sunshine & in shower
Joys near grow weary sunshine hath no shade
Till ambushed winter comes with withering power
& every wreath hopes fairey finger braids
Feels the decieving storm & sickens faints & fades

They fill their little laps with blossoms wild
Which daring journeys gathers far from town
Cuckoos with spotted leaves from woods beguiled
& modest bluebells ever bending down
& silver daisey flowers of much renown
& cowslaps never still from day to day
Nodding to wind & breeze till summer brown
Bids their gold beads & the long grass decay
& Ragwort blooming on when others fade away

528

[Theres many heart acheth]

Theres many heart acheth
To bid it farewell

Ah in the dreary paths of man
Coud thy coy smiles be won
Thou spirit that with life began
Sweet childhoods glorious sun

SPRING HAUNTS

I love to roam in spring by hedgerow sides
Those old enclosures mossd with many years
That wind by brooks & grassy close divides
Were shelterd primrose earliest appears
To mark the thorn unfold its crimpld green
& ash trees swell their yet black buttond buds
& I love paths that wind thro tangling woods
Were bark ribd maples hazels all are seen

529

Mingling around their flushing hopes of leaves
& were the ivy peers its blooms between
& round the oak its light-veind foliage weaves
There I woud be as there I oft have been
To mark the things springs visits first employs
& breathe the raptures of her earliest joys

TWO SONNETS TO MARY

I met thee like the morning tho more fair
& hopes gan travel for a glorious day
& tho night met them ere they were aware
Leading the joyous pilgrims all astray
Yet know I not tho they did miss their way

530

That joyed so much to meet thee—if they are
To blame or bless the fate that bade such be
Thou seem'dst an angel when I met thee first
Nor has aught made thee otherwise with me
Possesion has not cloyed my love nor curst
Fancys wild visions with reality
Thou art an angel still & hope awoke
From the fond spell that early raptures nurst
Still feels a joy to think that spell neer broke

The flower thats gathered beauty soon forsakes
The bliss grows feeble as we gain the prize
Love dreams of joy & in possesion wakes
Scarce time enough to hail it ere it dies
Life intermingles with its cares & sighs
& raptures dreams are ended Heavenly flower
It is not so with thee—still fancys power
Throws rainbow halos round thee & thine eyes
That once did steal their sapphire blue from heaven
Are beaming on thy cheeks bewitching dye
Where partial roses all their blooms had given
Still in fond memory with the rose can vie
& thy sweet bosom which to view was heaven
No lily yet a fairer hue supplies

531

[Thy beauty thro my life hath been]

Thy beauty thro my life hath been
The muse of many a theme

[A rainbow paints yon deep blue cloud]

A rainbow paints yon deep blue cloud
Arching its colors newly proud
In glossy hues of watery green
& red & orange hues between
While oer it in a faded hue
Its fainting shadow dims the blue
That in a moments breath decays
& shrinks to nothing ere we gaze

[How oft Ive lay tween waking & a dream]

How oft Ive lay tween waking & a dream
Stretched by some hedge upon the silken grass
While summers charms in brighter dress did seem
Before my half closed swimming sight to pass

532

The warm heart throbbed in pleasing pain to trace
Faint reccolections of a lovely face
& beautious unknowns that had passed me bye
In the gay crowds of pleasures extacy

[How many times with weary feet]

How many times with weary feet
When sunday brought its leisure hours
Ive sought from noon a shady seat
& searchd the fields for pleasant bowers

533

MEMORY

Memory thou soul of time which passing years
Leaves like a spirit after their decay
Were banishd joys like fairey spring appears
For ever smiling with its blooming may
Time daily withers but thy beaming eye
For ever warms & brightens up the view
& flowers thou gatherd 20 summers bye
Still braid thy temples fresh as were they grew

Thou charm of constant youth whose teaming treasures
Are universal & witheld from none
The very child counts oer its little pleasures
Since thou & he companions first begun
He warms with fondness in thy lap to dwell
& thinks on trifles many after days
When he gaind pleasing toys for acting well
& bore the prizes from endearing plays

534

Green are thy boughs in every favourd nook
& banks were boyhood slept are fresh & green
& dreams joyd then all rise at memorys look
As one year mong so many scarce had been
The autums their still mellow moanings sing
As when I revelld in my childish joys
Dam[m]ing the cur[r]ent of some rippling spring
Or hedge fruit gathering with companion boys

& fresh as ever is thy wispering voice
& sweet as ever are those spots to view
Living with thee were childhood made its choice
Talking to trees & flowers that round him grew
Singing the hopes his fancys woud supply
For in his heart hope made an early home
Pointing with lily hand & witching eye
To heavenly prospects in the days to come

O gentle memory tho thy tales recall
Thou checkerd herald of lifes passing years
Sorrows & joys its honey & its gall
Of hopes sweet smiling & of hopes in tears
Yet morning childhoods pleasures are they fled
Ere cares first cloud crept in its summer sky
Tears shed for them are even sweet to shed
& there is pleasure in its bitterest sigh

535

Who does not love on manhoods weary way
To turn to where lifes happiness begun
The waking vision of its infant day
The heavenly rising of its morning sun
Tis even comfort when of all bereft
To turn a look from manhoods struggling strife
To view the calm spot were our youth was left
& all the green dreams of our budding life

O welcome memory thro thy glistning tears
I love to linger on the days gone bye
The soft remembrance of those lovly years
That bloomd as fresh as they woud never die
I love to must with thee & love to think
Oer artless fancys when I usd to lye
By the smooth pond or clear springs rushy brink
To count clouds passing in its picturd skye

Pulling the downy bents from pasture hill
& beading daiseys on their slender stalks
& listning humming bees that [neer] was still
& strawberrys seeking in the woodland walks
O darling memory oer such pleasures gone
My heart coud ever dwell & never cloy
Listning youths little tales & listning on
Thou warmth thou essence of its dreaming joy

536

Or musing half bewitchd oer wonderous things
Which learnings first companionship supplyd
The murderous ballads which the gossip sings
& Tales in sheets by bawling hawkers cried
Giants of god like strength who princes slew
Easy as worms & beatles at their will
& fairey tales with wonders ever new
These all are past—but thou art with me still

Een tottering grannys weary life beguiles
& age grows young again when thou art near
Tho trifling weakness often prompt their smiles
& tiresome storys teaze the listners ear
Recounting follys which their young days knew
When youth[s] warm notions flushd each witherd vein
Follys which sweetest pleasures did pursue
That neer are thought of but theyre wishd again

The hopes & joys of youth loves thrilling ways
When beauty[s] maiden flower was in its pride
Fond reccolections of sweet sabbath days
When wispering sweet hearts saunterd by their side
& told them witching tales & sought them flowers
& offerd help at every welcome stile
Tho oft left helpless in their withering hours
Thy picturd past still prompts the ready smile

Thou sun of fairest beauty never set
Aught else may wither thou art fair to see
& that sweet face which loves first throbbings met
The lovliest ever met is still with thee

537

What love first lovd thou art—& with thy aid
Lips eyes & smiles shall fade nor perish never
Loves mortal charms with thee are angels made
To hover round us & to please for ever

In thy fair face all that is lovly dwells
All man concieves of beauty flushd or fair
& in thy robes beset with painted spells
The charms of nature ever linger there
There winters never felt still frown in storms
Springs reign in green & summers live in flowers
& fading autums many mottld forms
Keep fading on in memorys brighter bowers

O memory bless me with thy sweetest dreams
Be never mine the rude reverse to see
Far from the storm of follys vain extreams
Be mine thy visions that the fairest be
While hope whose soul is glistning in her eyes
Musing on days that bear no kin to earth
Createth joys whose substance never dies
Which death but chan[g]es for a brighter earth

[Who does not feel the grand sublimity]

Who does not feel the grand sublimity
Of natures pictures touchd with endless skill
In endless changes that neer cease to be
Awakening wonder were we will

538

The earths broad landscape varying every hour
In every beautious shape & varying on
In inscets of all hues & leaf & flower
Till fanceys power exaus'tless seems & done
& stretching plains & wood & wilderness
Were natures pencil spurns mans puney power
To imitate the grandeur they posses

Who does not feel the wild sublimity
Of natures pictures touchd with endless skill
& endless change till fancy seems to be
Almost exhausted tho she changes still
The innumerable host of living things
From the small inscet tribe that meets a birth
With almost every hour the summer brings
To things that live the wonders of the earth

Who does not feel the wild sublimity
Of natures pictures touchd with endless skill
& endless change till fancy seems to be
Almost exhausted tho she changes still
Each circling scene our notice dwells upon
Marks things & forms of every shape & hue
Each harmonising each & varying on
To lengths were thought seems weary to pursue

Meadow & wood & field of varied blooms
Streaks every were a vast expanded view
Of ceasless beautys till its length becomes
A small spot shadowd on the distant blue

539

& over all the suns soft mellow light
& mild eternity of purple skye
Een wonder sickens at its own delight
& shrinks oerpowrd from boundless majesty

[I hate to see mans strength employd]

I hate to see mans strength employd
To desolate the wood
To see a favourite tree destroyd
That has for ages stood
To see the stript oak stretchd its length
A mournful thought the scene attends
Those seem thats left still green in strength
To mourn their fallen friends

SONNET

[Tween evenings farewell & the nights approach]

Tween evenings farewell & the nights approach
I love to linger on the garden seat
While glooms around me sluggishly encroach
Or in some neighbouring spot short walks repeat

540

To watch the west which heavens last smiles doth bless
Where longest clings the memory of the day
To see it fade & fade till colorless
The painted record vanishes away
In times turned pages to be seen no more
Yet gloomy night shall but awhile delay
The past days offspring that hath smiles in store
As lovely as the first Oh it is sweet
To prove by this when deaths long night is oer
That we shall wake another world to meet

A DEDICATION TO MARY

O Mary thou that once made all
What youthfull dreams coud pleasure call
That once did love to walk with me
& own thy taste for s[c]enery
That sat for hours by wood & brook
& stopt thy curious flowers to look
Were all that met thy artless gaze
Enjoyd thy smiles & won thy praise

541

O thou that did sincerely love
The cuckoos voice & cooing dove
& stood in raptures oft to hear
The blackbirds music wild & clear
That chasd sleep from thy lovly eyes
To see the morning lark arise
& made thy evening rambles long
To list the crickets chittering song
Thou that on sabbath noons sought bowers
To read away the sultry hours
Were roseys hung the cool to share
With thee a blossom full as fair
Oft withering from noons scorching look
& fluttering dropping on thy book
Wispering morals as they fell
What thou ere this hath provd too well
Picturing storys sad & true
Beneath thy bright eyes beaming blue
How youth & beauty fades & dyes
The sweetest has the least to prize
How blissfull pleasures fade away
That have the shortest time to stay
As suns that blest thy eyes & mine
Are but alowd a day to shine
& fairest days without a cloud
A gloomy evening waits to shroud
So spoke the fading dropping flowers
That perishd in thy musing hours
I know not wether thou descryd
But I coud hear them by thy side
But thy warm heart tho easy wrung
Woud not be mella[n]choly long

542

If such was felt the cheering day
Woud quickly chase their glooms away
For thou sought fancys sweet to look
In every hour & every nook
To thee earth swarmd with lovly things
The butterflye with spangld wings
& dragon flye & humble bee
Humd dreams of paradise with thee
& o thou fairest dearest still
If natures wild misterious skill
Beams that same rapture in thine eye
& left a love that cannot dye
If that fond taste was born to last
Nor vanishd with the summers past
If seasons as they usd to be
Still meet a favou[r]d smile with thee
Then thou accept for memorys sake
All I can give or thou canst take
A parted record known to thee
Of what has been no more to be
The pleasant past the future sorrow
The blest today & sad tomorrow—
Descriptions wild of summer walks
By hedges lanes & trackless baulks
& many an old familiar scene
Were Mary has springs partner been
Were thou enrapt in wild delight
Hast lingerd morning noon & night
& were to fancys rapturd thrill
Thy lovly memory lingers still

543

Thy flowers still bloom & look the while
As tho they witnessd marys smile
The birds still sing thy favord lays
As tho they sung for marys praise
& bees hum glad & fearless bye
As tho their tender friend was nigh
O if with thee these raptures live
Accept the trifle which I give
Tho lost to pleasurs witnessd then
Tho parted neer to meet agen
My aching heart is surely free
To dedicate its thoughts to thee
Then thou accept & if a smile
Lights on the page thou reads the while
If aught bespeak those banishd hours
Of beauty in thy favord flowers
Or scenes recall of happy days
That claims as wont thy ready praise
Tho I so long have lost the claim
To joys which wear thy gentle name
Tho thy sweet face so long unseen
Seem types of charms that neer hath been
Thy voice so long in silence bound
To me that I forget the sound
& thou thy presence warms my theme
Like beauty floating in a dream
Yet I will think that such may be
Tho buried secrets all to me

544

& if it be as hopes portray
Then will thy smiles like dews of heaven
Cheer my lone walks my toils repay
& all I ask be given

[[Aut]umn is beautiful to see]

[Aut]umn is beautiful to see
Clothd in its wild mortality
Of colord leaves that fade & fall
& leave a lesson with us all
Of clouded skyes that hourly wain
& gleam in short livd smiles again
Oer wilderd fields & colord bowers
& witherd tufts that once were flowers

Nor can I wish those scenes away
So beautiful in lifes decay
For summers smiles to yearly be
Or give springs hopes eternity
Around me woods & vallys seems
Wrapt all in visionary dreams
Wild fairey scenes each touchd has gone
& like enchantment varies on

A rain bow glory nature weaves
Around her dwelling ere she leaves
Her waning fading toils—to keep
Her sabbath rest of winter sleep

545

[By twittering swallows we percieve]

By twittering swallows we percieve
That summers on the point to leave
Who skim the pond & rippling spring
Were once they dipt each sooty wing
& greensward lanes from morn till night
Were once they weeld their circling flight
& sit on cottage tops to rest
& twit & prune their dingy breast
Or flock together in the skye
As if to learn their yong to flye
Preparing each unpractisd wing
For flight to seek another spring

[Oft in my earlier days of leisure]

Oft in my earlier days of leisure
I felt a mellancholly pleasure
To track the sun burnt heaths & plains
When summers dazzling glory wanes
When flowers had left the open walks
& nought appeard but rustling stalks
& those still lingering loath to fade
Are daily sinking in the shade
When orchard apple reddning mellow
& woodland branches sickening yellow
Proclaim the summers first decay
& autumn hastening on his way

546

& I do love this season still
To ramble round the scenes at will
To rove the smoothly shaven meadow
Were fading summer like a widow
Bewails in silence heavy hearted
The pleasant din of days departed
When sweeping mowers late & soon
From sun rise to evens dewy moon
Toild cheerful oer its level ground
& whetting scythes kept tinkling round
When swain & maid in artless glee
Sung round the hayshock merrily
Mixing with grass hopper & bee
The summers soul of melody
So sweet that ecchos extacys
Murmurd their mirth in mild replys
Tho these are gone & in their stead
A silent scene around is spread
A russet level bleak & bare
With yellow blossoms here & there
Sickly smiling on the sun
As tho they wishd their end to shun
Till noontide bids their hopes be oer
& evens dews can heal no more
Then dropping in their grave the grass
They claim our pity as we pass
Tho no fond bee with cheering hum
To their lorn bosoms cares to come
Tho fled the din of scythes & men
& but a odd lark now & then
Starts from his lonly naked way
To hope & sing for summers stay
Yet wandering in these fields at will
I feel a saddend pleasure still

547

SONNET

[How sweet the wood shades the hot summer hours]

How sweet the wood shades the hot summer hours
& stretches oer my head its sheltering green
As I recline mid grass & cooling flowers
& seeded stalks of blossoms that have been
Sure tis a pleasure in such secret nooks
To muse on distant friends in memorys eye
Or glance on passages in favourite books
Whose thoughts like echoes to our own reply
Or shades recall which substance long forsook
From the black nothingness of days gone bye
Blessings of infant hope & loves young bliss
Ah thus to think the thoughts of death is sweet
In shaping heaven to a scene like this
With loves & friends & feelings all to meet

548

[Vision of days gone by your memory dances]

Vision of days gone by your memory dances
Mid the cool feelings manhoods reason brings
Like the unearthly memory of romances
Peopld with sweet & uncreated things
That are & are not ah delicious themes
How warm your memory mans chill bosom moves
Wild as the mistery of delightful dreams
Soft as the anguish of rememberd loves
Sweet as those dead ideas youth possest
When woman seemd an angel born for joy
When edens baskd on every panting breast
With neer a thought to wither & destroy

549

EDMUND & HELLEN

A Story of Love

Edmunds & Hellens Loves my verse woud sing
Loves far more worthy of a tenderer theme
Then aught my humble verse essays to bring
Loves joind as sweet as flowers with summer seem
But doomd to sorrow in its worst extream
He was a gentle youth unrudely free
& she O weres the fancy that coud dream
Of one so fair so beautiful as she
Unless twas beautys self in its eternity

No muse is urgd new terrors to impart
To hurt the tender soul with fancied fears
To blight the feelings of the mild of heart
& force from eyes a mockery of tears
Few glowing fancys in the theme appears
The trials love & nature undergo
Two tender lovers born to clouded years
Hopes nipt in storms that checker life below
Makes up this simple tale of unpretending woe

550

No burning pictures paints imagined strife
Fancys deep plots & terrors here are few
This common picture on the map of life
Who ever cons that motly page may view
& find such storys but alas too true
Tho high raisd souls may scorn so mean a lay
Who from romances all their pity drew
Yet are there tender maids as fair as they
Shall read such tales in tears & pitys tribute pay

O beautiful is woman cares vain strife
Even wears a smile among such lovley things
Those tender blessings in the curse of life
Those charms that hover like an angels wings
& to lorn griefs, affections comfort brings
O gentle woman soft bewitching name
Merceys first born—from thy soft bosom springs
All that our wishes or our wants can claim
Love joy & life with thee as thy companions came

Helen was lovly like a picture such
That poets paint, a dream of beautys light
Her cheek glowed with the rose buds gentlest touch
& on her neck the lily revelled white

551

& on her bosom never made for care
The blue veins flowed in luxurys delight
In lucious ringlets danced her shaded hair
Her bright eye sparkeld blue—O she was more then fair

Her eyes were soft to look on & her hair
Was darkly brown which curled in idle play
Down her white forhead—her soft cheek was fair
Feint flushed like eves which fond night steals away
On her white neck the enarmourd ringlets lay
Nestling like clouds in bright calm summer skyes
Her lips wore smiles woud lead a saint astray
& her young bosom just begun to rise
A witching seat for love & throbbd its extacys

Her soul was virtues in its purest claim
Her heart was spotless as the turtle dove
Earths sins were strangers only known by name
Her speaking eyes beamed innocence & love
If earth owned one ere worthy heaven above
Twas she the saint the angel unbeguiled
That led a life which no one need reprove
She only loved & that was undefiled
Tho fate disdained that love & mocked her while it smiled

552

Edmund a gentle youth of manners mild
Met Helens beauty in its fondest hour
That opened on his anxious gaze & smiled
With all sweet womans fascinating power
For witching beauty was her earliest dower
It slept in childhood like a bud disguised
A lovley bud far lovlier when in flower
He wood her early & his suit was prized
By her whose only crime was loving unadvised

& long he loved her ere he dared to name
His hearts fond anguish to the lovly maid
Mistrusting fear & self confusing shame
That oer loves hopes will ever cast a shade
Still sealed his tongue & kept his heart afraid
Oft love burnt urgent to reveal its pain
& doubts as oft its courage woud up braid
Telling in sighs such trials woud be vain
& thus his love woud burn & thus woud damp again

The balmy breathings of the voice that breaks
In heavenly music on our ravished ears
Singing the utterers beauty while she speaks
The flowing hair the bright eye rich with tears
The soft cheek flushd with hope or pale with fears
The swelling breast who coud its heart betray
The love the sigh that tenderly endears
Women possesd these charms in early day
& they posses them on to while our hearts away

553

Oft as for walks of pleasure she woud rove
On summer days when roads were clean & dry
Venturing from out her fathers beachen grove
Across the fields the youth with anxious eye
Oft saw & passed on purpose closely bye
She deemd it rudness first but soon excused
That rudness worthy of a tenderer name
& learned as passing to return the sigh
Her hearts fond warmth was checked by maiden shame
Which he mistook for pride & deemd her heart to blame

But hopes did gather freedom & in stealth
Love ventured looks & smiles & oft woud say
The day was fine & compliment her health
& urge some trifling kindness in her way
As offering help when ere her journey lay
Oer brooks or stiles—then begd to be excused
For unmeant rudeness as she blushd away
Thus Edmunds hopes such trifles oft amused
When each heart feign had spoke what eithers tongue refused

The very flowers so fancys power beguiles
That in her garden met his passing view
As the suns looks add beauty were it smiles
Seemd from her charms to steal a sweeter hue

554

& looked to him the lovliest flowers that grew
A[h] were was rose & lily half so fair
To Edmunds eyes as those which Helen knew
None seemed like those that blossomd neath her care
Such ways hath partial love to wed the heart to care

Oft buoyant hope urged him his suit to move
& with its whispers he at length complied
—Fond Helen blushed & every way was love
Her eyes in looks of tenderness replyed
& told in silence he was not denied
But doubts & fears like brambles had their hold
On her too tender bosom—flattered pride
She knew woud deem the youths affections bold
& oft she told her doubts & wept at what she told

He urged his passion tenderly & true
& tho consent returned him no reply
Affection warmed her cheek with deeper hue
& the soft languish of her beaming eye
That stole their tender color from the sky
Serenly blue—looked on him with a smile
& her soft bosom struggling with its sigh
Told his fond hopes a story void of guile
While courage seized her hand & paid its vows the while

555

Is aught of earthly raptures half so sweet
As that which thrills the soul in youths fond fear
When met the object which it doats to meet
& loves first hope is whisperd in her ear
& finds that hope approved—is aught so dear
As the first yielding smile by love subdued
Lifes hope may wander many an after year
From the first idol that its heart pursued
But never shall it meet that happiness renewed

O how he felt when first her lips he prest
& met the warmth returned—when lily white
Thro the thin covering lawn her heaving breast
First spread loves beautious heaven on his sight
& fixed his eyes in trances of delight
When first he languishd on that seat of rest
While beaming oer him like an holy light
Her eyes shed smiles of welcome on their guest
& told her souls confession—it was blest

Ah what a pleasure doth that bosom prove
That links its heart with hopes eternity
To some fair maidens purity of love
Whose thoughts whose hopes whose raptures all agree

556

Whose warm souls mingle one—how mild & free
Thro' hermit life their happiness sojourns
As dear as heaven if aught so dear can be
Is that fond heart who at loves alter burns
& meets from womans smile affections warm returns

What heart but gladdens when a woman smiles
What darksome cares but sickens in that light
When womans soothing tenderness beguiles
& like a moonbeam in the clouded night
Cheers up heart sickening sorrows to delight
Where is the friend that cherishes & cheers
Like womans smiles theres somthing in the sight
As heaven were nigh—theres pleasure in her tears
When pitys tale she hears & weeps at what she hears

Their love was ardent but it seemed as vain
When ere they pondered oer the gulph between
Their births & fortunes—ah coud Helen gain
Those oft repeated wishes to have been
A cottage maiden on some village green
Keeping her sheep with Edmund day by day
‘Ah’ she woud say ‘what pleasure I had seen’
& wept when Edmund bid her hopes be gay
Smiled on her doubts & kissed their bitterness away

557

They loved in secret when a chance was given
To blind suspicion & to be alone
Then did they steal to pay their vows to heaven
That rose like offered inscence round the throne
& made their wishes unto heaven known
Who unlike cruel man coud not despise
& in such hopes he called the maid his own
& lookd those silent answers from her eyes
That tenderly returned unspeakable replys

They met on sundays when the fields were still
& peace was found in many secret nooks
& there they sought the moles long finished hill
Mossed oer—& feasted on each others looks
& she'd repeat sweet passages from books
Were love was told the sweetest—often they
Woud trace the secret journeyings of brooks
Far from all paths were jealous eyes might stray
Oer heaths & pastures wild their heaven directed way

They met at eve when solitude beguiled
Their steps with secresy & made them blest
When the pale moon beam on their pleasures smiled
& calmly slept on Helens heaving breast
As if it loved so beautiful a rest
They walked & told their hopes of other years
That never was to come but hopes possest
Ideal pleasures not unchecked with fears
That oft made Helen sigh & turn away in tears

558

& oft they warmed to raptures fond extreams
That soothed all care to lethargy—no thought
But pleasures mixed in such delicious dreams
Such evenings came as they from heaven were brought
To bid life vanish & the world be nought
But for such partings—ah that love shoud part
Care in that portion mixed her bitterest draught
For each to drink—mad absence urged the smart
& bade the short farewell in heaviness of heart

Art thou in love or hast thou ever loved
Then canst thou feel it or has felt it all
The thrilling joys with which the soul is moved
The trifling fears that keeps the heart in thrall
Ah thou hast sipt its honey & its gall
For both unseverd in its draughts remain
The restless memory that will back recall
Loves absent idol & the pleasing pain
That dwells upon the heart till both shall meet again

Sweet is the even after showers have fell
On days hot beating bosom some few hours
Before the sunset when refreshed with smell
The sweet briar perks its leaves & woodbine flowers

559

Doth hearten up fresh fragrance in the dell
Who that loves nature doth not love to dwell
An hour by dripping woods while the fresh air
Breaths added sweets—fair Helen loved it well
& oft with Edmund met such hours to share
The fairest blossom that was blooming there

& markd each rural scene—the lowing herds
Wind one by one adown the homward lane
& listnd the soft song of twitting birds
& shepherds ditty striding home again
Each rural pleasure did their steps detain
With many a minutes gaze—& she woud sigh
With doubtful happiness whose joys are pain
While the flushd milkmaid tript in raptures bye
To think that fortunes pride had placd her life so high

& he woud seek her blossoms by her side
& place them in her breast to fade away
While she woud prize them with affections pride
Nor deem them worthless in their quick decay

560

But kept them withering many an after day
As fond remembrances of loves esteem
& oft in blushing smiles she woud betray
Such secret fondness in her loves extream
Which thrilled thro Edmunds soul like beauty in a dream

He looked thrilled raptures from her smiling eye
& watched her fond heart in its soft retreat
Till thrilling extacy raised hopes so high
As een to fancy he coud hear it beat
With loves fond flutterings of delightful heat
& in such swooning joys he fondly prest
Her willing lips to his the touch how sweet
& on her bosom he woud linger blest
Ah who on earth that loves coud wish a sweeter rest

561

When poisond slander sleeps itself to nought
& no eye waketh save the silver moon
How balmy night doth sooth loves restless thought
Burnt with anxietys befeverd noon
How beautiful how pleasant is the boon
With eves soft curtain round their whispers thrown
How love doth chide the hour that flyes too soon
& leaves them with the busy day alone
With absent cares & pains to lovers only known

Love like the spring when warm suns bids it blossom
Oft dreams oer joys as they woud neer decay
Smiling like flowers that bares to heaven her bosom
As tho no season hastend on its way
To blight their blooms & take the place of may
Ah love is often like the budding spring
Blest in the sunny raptures of to day
Wrapt in lifes pleasures like a lasting thing
Unmindful of the clouds that dark to morrows bring

562

Time unpercieved from happiness doth creep
Eve like a watch man may give place to night
& quick eyed morning start dull night from sleep
Eer love left dallying in supreem delight
Woud scarcly dream an hour had taken flight
—What pains to love the hour to parting brings
When the last gleams of mellancholy light
A farewell shadow oer their pleasure flings
& spreads loves modest joys on night falls jealous wings

Eve oft wore wearied to its stillest hour
& woud have dreamed itself to glad repose
But the fond lovers lingerd in their bower
& with that joy the lover only knows
Forbid in urged delays its eyes to close
Silence seemed waiting sickend with delay
& eves pale star in jealous splendour rose
Night as in hurry spread its doubtful grey
& like a thief stole in to urge their joys away

From such delays suspicions ambushd eyes
For ever watching like a beast of prey
Lookd thro the causes of loves thin disguise
& all its hopes did smother & waylay

563

Her friends enquired the cause of such delay
& questiond Helen who in terror sighd
& neath their frowns wept many hours away
Ere she the secret to disclose complied
& when loves prayer was utterd scorn denyed

Hard is that heart that feels not o how hard
To witness womans tears sure such are few
That pays imploring pity no regard
From things so lovly & so tender too
As woman earths endearing angel—who
That owns the name of man coud ever wear
Hells fiendish mask to mock & to pursue
Sweet womans wrongs & drive her to despair
O god they must be fiends tis more then man coud bear

& what is wealth that it shoud thus be prized
Above the value of far better things
That wanting it shoud leave all worth despised
& blight the joy that from affection springs
With heavens own pleasures that its mercy brings
To make the world less irksome—what is gold
Fond hearts to sever that the closest cling[s]
Whose fond affection round the heart hath hold
Is love a bargain to be bought or sold

Edmund was poor tho he that worth coud claim
That thousands cannot who pretend to love
An uncorrupted heart an honest name
& worth thats welcomd by the pure above

564

While these were all that Helen wished to prove
But worth in vain with other hearts did sue
Her fathers heart all merit failed to move
By fortune blest hed higher aims in view
Which Helen deemd a curse & prophesied too true

Edmund the poor was not the vulgar hind
His friends in fortunes favours met decay
Yet loss of wealth left better worth behind
Minds well informd that cannot pass away
For fortune is a dream of yesterday
& for tomorrow oft provides but ill
Beggering in earnest while it seems in play
Wealth is not left to reasons equal skill
But thrown to blindfold chance to scatter were she will

They bade her pride such humble views disdain
They urged at riches with oerruling power
They bade her heart forget him—ah how vain
As well might nature in the summers hour
Forbid the hopeful bud to be a flower
She heard in grief & stifled many a sigh
& while their frowns oer every hope did lower
It bound her love with closer tenderer ties
As the weak woodbine clings when hopless storms are high

Ah what is hope in desolate distress
Can it have power to smile & linger there
Can it have power to make our sorrows less
Or sooth the viper fang of poisoning care

565

When madness gauls those sorrows to despair
Ah what is hope in sorrows saddest hour
A falling meteor that once seemd a star
A flattering shower on autumns sickly bower
A dewdrop glistning on a withered flower

The fond bird leaves its nest & pines forlorn
When its loved mate becomes the fowlers prey
Een the fair blossom from its partner torn
By maiden choice or childhoods wanton play
Mourns the foul deed & withereth away
So Helens bloom—of flowers the lovliest one
That suns ere rose to cherish did decay
Torn from the hope its beauty doated on
That beauty sickend when that hope was gone

Lifes ills woud claim a book of jiant size
To page their terrors—but a slender share
The pigmy portion which its joy supplys
A page woud note it & have room to spare
Soon soon that page is blotted oer with care
& seared with dissapointments blighting eye
Weak are its hopes such struggling storms to bear
Life at the best but scantling blooms supply
& pirate storms throng round to bid that little dye

566

Parting is heavy grief tho hopes may lean
Towards better days too often hoped in vain
Yet frowning abscence claims the space between
As withering winters take their yearly reign
Tween summers past & summers hoped again
But when sad absence hopless frowns impart
& cloud loves spring with winters that remain
O weres the thought can feel for that sad heart
Were is a word can tell how sad it is to part

They deemed past love an unforgiving crime
& all its sorrows malice did deride
Her walks forbidding in the summer time
& eves hours watching with a jealous pride
Soft pity pleaded but to be denied
Edmund was scorned as one of low degree
In vain her soul oer its affections sighed
Love was a captive never to be free
& doubted joys before left earnest misery

567

Memorys a pleasure that all life doth share
The weary bird will reccollect its nest
The timid terrors of the startled hare
Urges its flight to what it once possest
& seeks the lone haunts of its former rest
The slaving horse oft on his weary way
Looks for the hour when freedom was his guest
The swallow shuns dull autumns dreary day
& flyes on memorys wings to summers far away

Memory for Helen oft did garlands weave
Of all the hopless hopes that once had been
But they were blooms like those which summers leave
Seared with the Autumns melancholly scene
Sickening & withering & no longer green
That pictured painful ecchoes unto pain
Blighted with cares & near a hope to screen
Ah they were blossoms that had bloomed in vain
& scarfed in mourning now as near to bloom again

Life spread to both a desert cold & chill
Hope withered to the core without one smile
Not one green nook turn were so ere they will
Were peace might shun fates blasting frowns the while

568

& one lorn minute of its pain beguile
As storms meet storms against & with the wind
Fate darkend every were oer loves exile
Days came & left them unto night resigned
With hopless glooms before & blighted hopes behind

The fairest beauty is assailed by time
The brightest eye is sullied oft in tears
The gentlest heart that rarely knows a crime
Gainst rudest sorrow often preseveres
The sweetest hope is not without its fears
Grief oft encroaches an unbidden guest
In choicest pleasures which this life endears
Care lurks in peace's paths to break its rest
& curses like to storms frown round to blight the blest

She faded like a flower yet loath to shun
Her presence beauty fondly lingered still
Tho from her cheeks grief had the rosey won
& planted its pale shadows winter chill
Yet like the lilys they were lovly still
As lingering blossoms meet the winter wind
Smiling at death tho pierced with every ill
So Helen drooped & bowed to friends unkind
& smiled in tears to trouble half resignd

569

Oft she woud watch the eves star into heaven
& from her window muse with wistful eye
& thought ere Edmund from her love was driven
How oft it blessed them neath its 'lumind sky
& she woud think oer pleasures past & sigh
& wept till it became a joy to weep
& oft weak hope woud struggle up & flye
To better days that fate yet hushed asleep
& in such extacys care woud its sabbath keep

‘Ah’ she would sigh ‘eve sinks in nights dull arms
‘But morning from his frowns shall glad retreat
‘As from a tyrants love with blushing charms
‘The fondling smiles of the young sun to meet
‘To its fond love the skylark carrols sweet
‘Both to the evening & the morning grey—
‘O when will love to me its smiles repeat
‘Were shall I meet it on my weary way
‘A night surrounds me now & when will it be day

‘Can the free will to love with nature given
‘Be deemed a lawless & unjust decree
‘I[s] the unerring choice approved of heaven
‘Of less avail then priesthoods golden fee

570

‘Is it less binding—no it cannot be
‘Tyrant wealth & power with scornful brow
‘Stills the meek voice of reasons juster plea
‘Mild heaven approves affections every vow
‘& there my hopes are fled tis all thats left me now

‘The sweetest pleasure that this life bestows
‘Too often with a gilded smile betrays
‘Lifes joys at best have little more then show
‘& but too often in its changing ways
‘Love blossoms like a flower & so decays
‘Still theres a hope that with the soul dies never
‘That weds to memory of eternal days
‘When love shall meet past every power to sever
‘& love as dear as now & live & love for ever’

Thus she woud sigh her sorrows into rest
& hope & smile & doubt & weep again
Wild feverd fancys lulld her throbbing breast
Only to add fresh fuel unto pain
Ah who coud see such beauty grieve in vain
What heart so hard coud mock at its decay
Yet still they mockd her with pursued disdain
& turned deaf ears to all love had to say
& pride in teazing scorn woud smile its taunts away

571

& Edmund viewd the past with hopless eye
As happy days that never woud return
No hope with him coud the past loss supply
But the last hope were endless joys sojourn
With sickening griefs his heart did daily burn
As blest no more with Helens cheering smile
Lost to her presence he did vainly mourn
& wrote his last farwell & wept the while
Yet cheered his words with smiles her sorrows to beguile

‘O grieve not Helen make thy truce with joy
‘Thou wert not born for grief—a thing so fair
‘Consuming sorrow woud full soon destroy
‘Can the low violet from its wooded lare
‘Peer in the tempest with its bosom bare
‘Can the pale primrose so reserved & shoy
‘Thrust in the sunshine bloom nor wither there
‘Thou art as fair & frail then live with joy
‘Nor let grief wed thy beauty to destroy

‘Awhile life parts us & its but a time
‘Death when he comes shall come a friend to thee
‘He brings no terrors were he meets no crime
‘& thou art innosent as angels be
‘& as for me fate pleads her best for me
‘I loved thee faithful heart & soul was given
‘To thy fond care tho wealth woud not agree
& tho from man with hopless crimes Im driven
‘Love is no crime above Ive better hopes of heaven

572

‘Love is immortal tho its partner hope
‘Leads it to future worlds & dissapears
‘Yet shall not love from faithful hearts elope
‘Or be forgotten in the flight of years
‘Then be thou faithful & dry up thy tears
‘Cease these hear[t] breaking sighs & be thou blest
‘God is thy friend O dissipate thy fears
‘Father of all the tenderest the best
We both in heaven shall meet & be at rest’

Thus hopless Edmund wrote his last farwell
Not with lost joys hopes fancys to deride
Tho he on comforts did despairing dwell
He talked of hopes their hoplessness to hide
& the mad anguish of his heart belied
To cheer fond Helens in its trying pain
He sought no comfort tho the world was wide
& looked on life as one that lived in vain
& mused oer pleasures past as neer to bloom again

O there are cares at which resistance laughs
Were cold encouragments are idle pleas
Were jiant resolutions shrink to dwarfs
With strengths as feeble as the summer breeze

573

& mocks the anguish which they cannot ease
Een rosey hope will turn its smiles away
& wither pale in tempests such as these
Cant may its moral promptitude display
But cares will shadow still with little hopes of day

‘O what is love’ he sighed ‘but shadowed dreams
‘That fancy like to sleep createth fair
‘Visioned realitys that beauty seems
‘& wake to nothing—save the anxious care
‘That lives on dissapointment & despair
‘Is love a blooming cheek or snowey breast
‘Short is its triumph if its reign be there
‘O who woud dream of beauty to be blest
‘& wake to be decieved & live to be distrest’

‘Deaths mystery frame[s] imaginary strife
‘& its calm sleeps with fancys thorns defile
‘We know not & we dread tis so with life
‘Sorrows the infants earliest hours beguile
‘But fancyd fears soon soften in a smile—
‘Like to that cloud that intercepts the light
‘That frownd such terrors in the sun awhile
‘So black & deep fear shudderd at the sight
‘Tis now like shadowy eve & such deaths peaceful night’

574

Look were he woud the scene was desolate
The only peace seemed left him was to dye
A rash resolve—the rest was left to fate
O wish not horrors vail drawn further bye
Let pitys thoughts the dismal void supply
Life is but weak when into madness driven
Still let not love such rashness justifye
Or tender pity urge such faults forgiven
Or harsher souls condemn—such deeds are judged in heaven

Poor Helen thy fond love was early crost
Untimely blooming neath a clouded sun
Like early blossoms nipt by lingering frost
Thy bud was blighted ere its bloom begun
Fate is a soulless wretch or thou hadst won
His steeled heart to pity & forbear
To break the silken hopes thy dreams had spun
To blight the lovly bloom of one so fair
& drive so sweet a thing to madness & despair

She heard her lovers fate & coud but sigh
& shed her latest tears—for sorrows deep
Had drained afflictions fountains nearly dry
& left but little for fresh woes to weep

575

Grief like a storm had moaned itself to sleep
& pined in lethargy her heart away
Her Edmunds struggles took a desperate leap
But hers ebbed gentle as an autumn day
& sickend hour by hour & smiled in its decay

Oft she woud try a song her heart to glad
& on her harp her lily hands woud lye
Refusing music sickend all & sad
She hummed so feebly in her agony
Twas soft & voicless as a lovers sigh
Yet sweet the plainings which her anguish drew
As fancys musings from an evening skye
She sung & sighed & wept what coud she do
With loves heart broken that had loved so true

She now mournd silent in her garden bowers
& as lorn pastime for her hearts despair
She walked among her once beloved flowers
Which ere she loved did youths affections share
Herself ere while a blossom full as fair
& those beat down by sudden showers of rain
She raised agen with pitys gentle care
& thought they smiled upon her as in pain
As on a fading flower that neer woud bloom again

576

& were was Helen when the spring returned
Her favourite blossoms 'peared again to view
The blushing rose with summers smiles sojourned
& the pale lily did its bloom renew
Sipping fresh fragrance from the evening dew
—Ah were Springs visits dreary shadows wear
& suns smile sickly on the church yard yew
Were daiseys wed with grief such glooms to share
Poor broken hearted Helen rested there

SUMMER HAUNTS

I love in summer time to seek a seat
Wading the long grass were a path neer led
Patting their downy tops with idle feet
& nodding blossoms while around me fled
Inscects lone hermits of the peacful grass
Retreating further from approaching noise
Were large grass hoppers heavy bouncing pass
Oft chasd in idle sport of wanton boys

577

& nimble beetles hasting every where
From labour startld some & some from play
Were butterflye darts up in gadding fear
& hoarse bee hummeth wearily away
I love in summer such lone haunts to seek
But feel regret their tennants peace to break

SONNET

[I love to drop in summer on the grass]

I love to drop in summer on the grass
& with unwearied eye mark pleasing things
To see the gadding swallow gaily pass
Crumping the quiet lake with dipping wings
& list the restless cuckoo while it sings
In distant trees—& nigh hand in the wood
That skirts its shadow oer my mossy seat
I love that pleasant russling noise to meet
That tells of happiness with more then me
Of fluttering linnets this years summer brood
That 'scaped the schoolboys eye & fly to greet
Their happy parent hasting home with food
As I do love such pleasing things to see
& in ones thoughts such pleasures to repeat

578

BALLAD

[Young Chloe looks sweet as the rose]

Young Chloe looks sweet as the rose
& her love might be reckond no less
But her bosom so freely bestows
That all may a portion posess
Her smiles woud be cheering to see
But so freely theyre lavishd abroad
That each silly swain well as me
Can boast of the smiles she bestowd

Her smiles and her kisses so free
Blesses all like the rain from the sky
As the blossoms love is to the bee
Each swain is as welcome as I
And tho I my folly can see
Yet still must I love and adore
Tho I know the love wisperd to me
Is a lye told to many before

Tis sad that a bosom so fair
And red lips so seemingly sweet
Shoud study false ways to ensnare
And breath in their kisses deceit

579

But beautys no guide to the best
The rose that out blushes the morn
While it tempts the glad eye to its breast
Will pierce the fond hand with a thorn

Yet still must I love silly swain
And put up with all her deciet
And try to be jealous in vain
For I cannot help thinking her sweet
When I see other swains in her bower
I sigh and excuse what I see
And say to my self ‘is the flower
‘Any worse when its kissd by the bee’.

580

A SONG

In Fashionable Style

O throw aside those carless ways
My conscous heart to move
Affected anger but betrays
Suspicous doubts of love

That face were frowns at will can dwell
Were cold deciet beguiles
May just as easy & as well
Dissemble while it smiles

Tis cruel when false smiles betrays
The heart into a snare
But crueler when slighting ways
Turns pleasures to despair

Thy face is fair let that suffice
& scorn a meaner power
Truth adds to beautys fading price
As fragrance to the flower

Yet tho you frown or smile in jest
My folly must declare
A weakness burning in my breast
Feels all in earnest there

581

[Sweet blossoms of lifes happy spring]

Sweet blossoms of lifes happy spring
& childhoods sunny day
How blest had life no change to bring
To mar your joyous play
With you the past hath nought of pain
The future nothing seems
But play & sleep & play again
A change of happy dreams

Sweet blossoms may my hopes be true
& more then visions be
That pictures better luck to you
Then ere befell to me
Lifes fears & heart destroying cares
Mildews of heedless hours
The gilded baits in follys snares
Like cankers eating flowers

False friends false loves that thickly starts
Like thistles all around
In the worlds way were truest hearts
Receve the deepest wound

582

My timid cautious wary feet
Be near that dangerous step
To hesitate with counsel sweet
To look before ye leap

My blossoms when with reasons thought
Ye read this truth too true
Let my experience dearly bought
Be cheap advice to you
Then will ye miss what I have won
Cares that all life destroys
& meet what folly bade me shun
Lifes best of shameless joys

SPRING

The eldern opens by the cottage eves
In which the redcap yearly builds her nest
& goosberry bushes shoot their hairy leaves
Were the pert Robbin with its ruddy breast

583

Sits watching worms the gardeners spade unbears
The sallow trees in golden palms are drest
& the black thorn its early livery wears
In snowy blossoms hing that catch the eye
Like pleasant fancys rising unawares
—Shining at distance like cloaths hung to drye
On naked hedges one scarce thinks of flowers
The daisy ventures to unclose its eye
Where new dropt lambs lie basking in the sun
& all things warn us of the spring begun

584

WINTER

The morning wakens with the lumping frails
Chilly & cold—the early rising clown
Hurkles along & blows his finger nails
Iceicles from the cottage eves hang down
Which passing childern wish for in their play
—The fields once clad in autumns russet brown
Spreads like the eye its circle far away
In one hugh sheet of snow—from the white wood
The crows all silent seek the dreary fens
& starnels blacken through the air in crowds
The sheep stand bleating in their turnip pens
& loath their frozen food—while labouring men
Button their coats more close from angry clouds
& wish for night & its snug fire agen

585

THE FODDERING BOY

The foddering boy along the crumping snows
With straw band belted legs & folded arm
Hastens & on the blast that keenly blows
Oft turns for breath & beats his fingers warm
& shakes the lodging snows from off his cloaths
Buttoning his doublet closer from the storm
& slouching his brown beaver oer his nose
Then faces it agen—& seeks the stack
Within its circling fence—were hungry lows
Expecting cattle making many a track
About the snows—impatient for the sound
When in hugh fork fulls trailing at his back
He litters the sweet hay about the ground
& brawls to call the staring cattle round

586

SCHOOL BOYS IN WINTER

The school boys still their morning rambles take
To neighbouring village school with playing speed
Loitering with pastimes leisure till they quake
Oft looking up the wild geese droves to heed
Watching the letters which their journeys make
Or plucking awes on which the field fares feed
& hips & sloes—& on each shallow lake
Making glib slides were they like shadows go
Till some fresh pastimes in their minds awake
& off they start anew & hasty blow
Their numbd & clumpsing fingures till they glow
Then races with their shadows wildly run
That stride hugh jiants oer the shining snow
In the pale splendour of the winter sun

587

AUTUMN SHOWERS

The roads are thronged with mire from hasty showers
& every hollow hath its plashy lake
Were school boys dabble in their leisure hours
Their boats to swim or water mills to make
With wild disorderd clouds the wilder skyes
Are covered were the brewing blacking storm
Is hourly rising while the shepherd boy
Leaps oer the mole hill tops to keep him warm
& slou[c]hes his rusty hat & belts his coat
To face the expected tempest ere he flies
To his sedge covered hut not far remote
Or the known shelter of some hollow trees
Were the lone Owlet startled from its dreams
Flops oer his head in terrifying screams

588

AUTUMN LANDSCAPE

The woods tanned greeness beautifully turns
To russets reds & yellows were the eye
Revels in wild delight & loathly turns
To were the fields & meadows lonely lye
Bleached to one brown & mellancholly stain
Were larks together flock & lowly flye
Among the stubbs for summer littered grain
All silent save of noises that complain
Of fears while the pined hawk darts whizzing bye
Odd cows & horses brouze about the lanes
Were banks & dykes undainty meals supply
While the boy pauses by the meadow lakes
To hear the crane repeat its lonly cry
Pleased with the floods the frequent tempest makes

589

AUTUMN

Summer is gone & all the merry noise
Of busy harvest in its labouring glee
The shouts of toil the laughs of gleaning boys
Sweeing at dinner hours on willow tree
The cracking whip the scraps of homely song
Sung by the boys that drive the loaded wain
The noise of geese that haste & hiss along
For corn that litters in the narrow lane
Torn from the waggon by the hedge row trees
Tinkles of wetting scythes amid the grain
The bark of dogs stretched at their panting ease
Watching the stouk were mornings dinner lay
All these have past & silence at her ease
Dreams autumns mellancholly life away

[As I wanderd oer the irish hills]

As I wanderd oer the irish hills
To a farmers house I came
The night being wet & somthing late
I enterd in the same
Till I became a courter
With a bonny girl I spied
She asked me if I had a wife
& my marriage I denied

590

I courted her all that long night
& part of the next day
Till smilingly she said to me
With you I gang away
For Ireland is a bonny place
& bonny men there in
So I will gang along with you
The world for to begin

SICKNESS

Pain shifts its aching rest for ease in vain
& like a wounded worm in anguish turns
Striving from pain to shift yet hailing pain
Follows

THE LABOURERS HYMN (a)

Reforming men of England support your hardy name
Nor leagued with cunning knaves grow infamous in fame
Dishonour not the soil where our fathers they were born
Nor let their boast of honesty be lost in utter scorn

591

Stand up & join the honest both in courage & in mind
Nor let the day light blush at deeds that darkness leaves behind
For your symbol is the Lion whose courage is the true
Then never shame your colours with the deeds that pirates do

Hail ye no tempting symbols by tyrant hands unfurled
Who while they raved for liberty forged chains for all the world
Your own king is a sailor—then muster at the helm
& stand against all wrongs that all rights would overwhelm
Prepare ye for the danger—& the danger will be past
Tho the knave & the cunning take their watch at the mast
Then hail no other sign but the red white & blue
While our symbol is the Lion & our motto is ‘the true’

We look upon the mischievous with sorrow & with scorn
But the tares & the thistles will be weeded from the corn
Self interest may plunge into dark mutiny
But thats no example for you or for me
Our hearts are for the honest & the honest we will join
For the king he is our helm & the lion is our sign
Protection is our faith & black injury shall rue
For well never shame our colours with the deeds the cunning do

You own no boasting vanity to shout & to rave
Of valour round our hearth stones—for danger makes the brave
But our silence is no proof that our courage is not there
So the money mart of knavery had better beware

592

The king he is your sailor & the lion is your sign
& yell neer disgrace your colours in a mutiny to join
Our hearts are with the honest & with them well buckle too
—No—well never shame our symbol with the deeds that cowards do

We would scorn to hurt a stranger as we would to hurt a friend
Or leave our honest labour to attain the rebels end
Well dare to do by day all the things we have to do
Coward deeds would shame our banner while its motto is ‘the true’
Our hearts are all for peace & our symbol is at lare
& knaves who would rouse him had better beware
For the king he is our sailor & the lion is our sign
& well neer disgrace our colours in a mutiny to join

Our courage shall correct foes mistakes in the end
& honesty erase all suspicions in a friend
For freedom is our birthright & ere the sneakey knave
Shall force us into mischief our freedom to enslave
Our firesides shall grow parliments our cottages be towers
For wrong shall never claim the right that all acknowledge ours
For our symbol is the lion & his courage is the true
& well never join or side with deeds that knaves or cowards do

To injure another that shall never be our creed
To better ourselves no wed scorn such a deed
Our wrongs have been many our dependance was poor
It was honesty to wait it was honour to endure
For the hind loves his honour tho in ditches he delves
& well never hurt another to better ourselves
For our king is a sailor & the lion is our sign
& well never shame our colours in a mutiny to join

Well do no wrong to any one to make ourselves amends
& all whose hearts are honest shall be first among our friends
& well assist & join them tho few the number be
For brooks will run to rivers & the rivers grow a sea

593

& so reform shall flourish into oceans at the end
When our griefs shall be with enemys & our pleasures with a friend
For our symbol is the lion & his followers the true
& well scorn to cause the sun to blush on deeds that cowards do

Well join heart & hand be the tempest what it may
To quell coward insults & drive knaves away
They shall not cheat our knowledge they shall not steal our dower
For reason is our birthright & her law it is our power
Our king is at the helm & the honest are his stay
& defence it is our shield be the storm what it may
Weve a hand for a weapon weve a cause to pursue
For our sign is the lion & our motto is ‘the true’

Our countrys our home & well haste to the call
For the friends of the honest are the friends of us all
When our neighbours in danger the dangers our own
& knaves they will wish they had left us alone
For our symbol is ready & were all in a mind
Who shrinks to be with us may tarry behind
Our Friends shall near doubt of a deed we may do
For the king is our helm & our motto ‘the true’

THE REFORMERS HYMN (b)

Reformers of old England support a kingdoms claim
Nor leagued with cunning knavery grow infamous in fame
Dishonour not the land where proud freedoms rights was born
Nor let your boast of knowledge now be lost in utter scorn

594

Stand up & with the honest few a noble cause pursue
The sun itself doth blush at deeds that some reformers do
Our king he hoists his standard & the lion is his sign
& who would shame his colours in a mutiny to join

Hail ye tempting trickerys by tyrant hands unfurled
Who while they rave for liberty forge chains for all the world
Our king is freedoms pilot then muster at the helm
& stand against all wrongs that all rights would overwhelm
Prepare ye for the danger & the danger will be past
Though interest leaguing mutineers are watching at the mast
Our nationall reform of red white & blue
Is unfurled to the breeze & its motto is ‘the true’

Our kings insulting enemies—are they the peoples friends
Do we think that freedoms tyrants will make her sons amends
Do we look or hope for any good that such reformers do
No no they hate the symbol whose motto is ‘the true’
Our hearts are all for peace & our lion is at lair
But knaves who would rouse him had better beware
While the king is on our side all his enemies we scorn
For the tares & the thistles will be weeded from the corn

Our union shall baffle all our foes in the end
& our honesty erase all suspicions in a friend
Our freedom is our birth right & shall each pleading knave
Blind our enlightened reason that freedom to enslave

595

No—firesides shall be parliments our cottages be towers
Ere wrong shall cheat us of the rights our king declares as ours
Appealing to the people he makes their cause his own
& honesty & loyalty will rally round the throne

Self interest may plunge into dark mutiny
But thats no example for you or for me
We'll do no wrong to enemies to make ourselves amends
Deeds that disgrace our loyalty would injure all our friends
For honour is their pledge & if least their number be
The brook will run to rivers & the rivers flow a sea
& so reform shall flourish into oceans at the end
So heres success to england & every honest friend

& heres a health to ministers for noble men they be
& to our king the sailor though the bumper flowed a sea
If our thirst could match our loyalty that ocean we would drain
& when reform is past & won we'll fill the bowl again
Our flag is englands union thats weathered wind & storm
So up & join the banner & your victorys ‘Reform’
For never did a king before such noble rights mentain
Then fill the bumper flowing oer—& heres his health again

597

TO THE IVY

Dark creeping Ivy with thy berries brown
That fondly twists on ruins all thine own
Old spire points studding with a leafy crown
Which every minute threatens to dethrone
With fearful eye I view thy height sublime
& oft with quicker step retreat from thence
Where thou in weak defiance strives with time
& holds his weapons in a dread suspense
But bloom of ruins thou art sweet to me
When far from dangers way thy gloomy pride
Wreaths picturesque around some ancient tree
That bows his branches by some fountain side
Then sweet it is from summer suns to be
With thy green darkness overshadowing me

WHATS BEAUTYS LOVE

Whats beautys love a sunny shower
A honey drop of summers hour
Till winter comes to turn it sour

598

Whats beautys self what else but may
Flowers sent to sweet the smiling day
No sooner cropt but sweets decay
Whats beautys life what but a morn
In tempests strutting cloudless born
A rose leaf hung before a thorn
Its value what alas the giver
Sent it to please but value never
When once enjoyd the worth flies ever
Thats beautys love

TO AN INFANT SISTER IN HEAVEN

Bessey—I call thee by that earthly name
That but a little while belongd to thee—
Thou left me growing up to sin & shame
& kept thy innoscence unstaind & free
To seek the refuge of a heaven above
Where lifes bud opens in eternity
Bessey when memory turns thy lot to see

599

A brothers bosom yearns thy bliss to prove
& sighs oer wishes that was not to be
Oh had we gone together had I been
Strange with the world as thou thy mothers love
What years of sorrows I had never seen
Fullness of joy that leaves no hearts to bleed
Had then with thine been purchasd cheap indeed

SONNET

[England with pride I name thee—& with pride]

England with pride I name thee—& with pride
I boast thee as my birth place—where is one
That thou hast given life to breathes beside
Nor feels the honour to be calld thy son—
Who reads the pages of thy glorys won
Victorious stripling on this jiant earth
Who keeps in memory what thy valours done
Nor feels the value of such noble birth—
Hast thou one heart that dwells amidst thy fame
Thy heroes living & thy heroes gone
That from thy soil a brothers right can claim
Nor warms in triumph to be counted one—
If such there is tho nourishd with the free
Tis bastard breed—& not a stain to thee

600

A REFLECTION IN SUMMER

One well may wonder oer the change of scene
Now Summers contrast thro' the land is spread
& turn us back were winters tempest fled
& left nought living but the Ivys green
The then bare woods that trembld over head
Like spectres mid the storm of what had been
& wrecks of beauty neer to bloom again
Are now all glory—nature smiles as free
As the last summer had commencd its reign
& she were blooming in eternity
So in this life when future thoughts beguile
& from past cares our spirits get relievd
Hope eggs us onward with as sweet a smile
As if before she ne'er had been decievd

601

TO NATURE

Thou spirit of creation breathing still
Oer each winged year unwearied time doth bring
Thou warmth called nature whose mysterious skill
Returns in glory to renew the spring
Awakening beauty in its wild extremes
As the earth quickens at thy wonderous power
Hovering around us like to pleasant dreams
With sudden visits of each leaf & flower
Thou mighty presence—thou all cheering sun
That gilt cares desert when the world begun
Thou still remainst the poetry of life
The warmth that cherishes eternity
A joy that triumphs oer the worlds rude strife
A hope that pictures what the next may be

602

SONG OF PRAISE

Imitation of the 148 Psalm

Warm into praises kindling muse
& raptures in thy theme infuse
That moves this earthly ball
That wirls in silent harmony
The Earth the Ocean air & Sky
To praise the Lord of all

Ye angels hymning round you[r] king
Praise him who gives you power to sing
Ye hosts in raptures burn
Who stationd you in bliss acclaim
O bless your benefactors name
Betokening kind return

Ye spreading heavens arching high
Ye scenes unknown beyond the sky
Creations maker own
Let there be light your ruler said
& instant your blue curtain spread
In triumph round his throne

603

Thou moon meek guardian of the night
Ye planets of inferiour light
Ye lamps of rays divine
Ye suns dart forth your splendid rays
To him who met[e]s your nights & days
& suffers you to shine

O praise him air & life & light
Eternal depths & heavens height
Triumphing faith acclaim
As finishd by his powerful hand
As firm as lasting shall you stand
Your rest & peace the same

O praise his name his mercy bless
Ye poor like me—in whelmd distress
O hail protection given
When sin & sorrow dies away
Our hopes his promise still shall stay
Of Recompensing heaven

Thunders that fright the trembling ground
Ye forked lightnings flashing round
While quenchd in whelming shower
While skys in vollied rolls are rent
While pausing nature silent bent
Adores almighty power

604

Ye minstrel birds wild woodland charms
Whose songs each child of nature warms
That your lovd haunts pursue
From him you borrowd every note
Then open wide your chaunting throat
To give the tribute due

Misshapen germs of parent earth
Waiting the suns dependant birth
His all enlivening rays
Emerging from your silent tomb
To join the hailing miriads come
& kindle into praise

Bowing adorers of the gale
Ye cowslips delicatly pale
Upraise your loaded stems
Unfold your cups in splendour speak
Who deckt you in that ruddy streak
& gilt your golden gems

Violets sweet tennants of the shade
In purples richest pride aray'd
Your errand here fulfill
Go bid the artists' simple stain
Your lustre imitate in vain
& match your makers skill

Daiseys ye flowers of lowly birth
Embroiderers of the carpet earth
That stud the velvet sod
Open to springs refreshing air
In sweetest smiling bloom declare
Your maker & my god

605

Thou humble cloathing of the trees
Moss!—in whose meaness genius sees
A world of wonders shine
Put on your sattin smoothening green
& let your makers power be seen
& workmanship divine

Creations universal round
That beat the air or press the ground
Or plough the seas the same
All joind in chorusing accord
Exalt your maker & your Lord
& praise his holy name

Till oer this sin consuming world
Destructions fated doom is hurld
& ruins self decays
Then freed from sin & adams fall
All join & hail him lord of all
In everlasting praise

TO THE DEITY

Almighty mystery—thou whose power & might
Free as a thought first rob'd the infant earth
That lookd the wakening darkness first to light
& breathd all worlds & heavens into birth

606

& bade them live neath merceys angel care
Incomprehe[n]s[i]ble as thou must be
If aught of mortal thought or hope may dare
To be familiar in addressing thee
If calld by earthly names be not profane
Accept o god a mortals worship—free
As natures soul born hopes which are not vain
To hope the best an helpless worm like me
Tho vile—thou hast no pleasure in its pain
—I am but dust—& thourt Eternity

ON SEEING PITT'S MONUMENT—

Stop Stranger! and thy tributary Tear
Bestow, for mental worth lies buried here.
This Tomb the Ashes of a Man Surrounds
Whom Joy Eternal for his Virtue crowns
The natal Hour fair Fortune usher'd in
And Even Death to him a Friend has been
By cutting off the Rose that's lost its Bloom
Makes but a Way for fairer Flowers to come!
And he has found ne'er fading Bliss at last.
The transitory scenes of Life are past,
Fathers to Sons will his great Name unfold,
By Sons to their Sons, are his Virtues told;
And ages over ages still may run,
His fame will last, as tho' tw'ere just begun

Thos Clutterbuck

607

SOME ACCOUNT OF MY KIN, MY TALLENTS & MYSELF

Ryhme is a gift as our folks here suppose
Nor wealth nor learning ever makes a poet
Tis natures blessing so the story goes
& my condition goes the way to show it
Tho up to Bible classes I was taught
My school account is hardly worth the telling
I staid no time to master as I ought
A hardish chapter in it without spelling

A timber merchant father was—that is
A maker & a seller out of matches
This honest truth somes very apt to quiz
That can do nothing but such meddling catches
These I woud ask is the prime strops of Packwood
A pin the worse cause he has humbler been
Then why—but hold—I quake at Mr B[lackwood]
Hell rap my knuckles in his magazine

Things may (as gran observes of Turners Blacking)
Be very good & very worthy praise
But theres such puffing & such swindling quacking
That merits next to nothing now adays
Some praise themselves some by their friends are stuck
As highs our weathercock upon the steeple
While all beside are trampld in the muck
I humbly hop[e] youre no such kind of people

608

Truth waits times touchstone as the just attacker
To burst the bubble & to put to rout
Each pompous sounding literary cracker—
Mine lives as long as many Ive no doubt
[I w]ill but print them as I hinted at
[De]ceit may be decieved its no great [m]atter
[Big a]s [a] frog I al[mos]t bu[rs]t with that
[Sh]e [puffs] me up [b]ut she is [a]p[t] to flatter

Still tho my genius cant be reckond rich
That its origional youll all agree
& tho my pen is often on the itch
Ive kept as yet from thieving pretty free
To tell the truth Ive hardly stole from any
Save some few things from worthey mother Bunch
A joke from Miller (praisd as mine by many)
For an old pedlar once who acted punch

If you like this Ill tell you tales by dozens
Which youll find pretty or I miss my aim
To strengthen this I might bring in my cousins
Who swear Im hastning up the hill to fame
But of friends praise I cant say Im a lover
For they like all are very prone to puff
Oft magazines laud books upon the cover
That prove when read most disagreeable stuff

So here Ill leave this sample to its fate
Send me the ‘London’ if you take the hint
Twill get you half a crown at any rate
For Ill give that to see my name in print
& be [a]s't will Ill wait & hope the better
Gran poor old creature will be all delight—
& as Aunt Prissey often ends a letter
When getting late—I wish you all good night

June 14, 1821 past 10 o'clock

609

ABSENCE

‘What ails my love, where can he be?
He never broke a vow,
Though twice the clock's reminded me
That he's deceiv'd me now.
Through some bad girl, I well know that,
Poor Peggy's love's forgot:’
Thus sigh'd a lass, as down she sat
On the appointed spot.

The night was gathering dark and deep,
But absent was the swain;
The dews on many a flower did weep,
But Peggy wept in vain:
And every noise that meets her ear,
And fancy of her eye,
Hope instant wipes away the tear,
And paints the shepherd nigh.

‘Ah, now he comes, my cheek glows hot,
His dog barks to the sheep!’
Alas, her own dog lay forgot,
Loud whimpering in his sleep.
‘He rustles down the wood-path park,
The boughs hung o'er it stirr'd!’—
Alas, her Rover's dreaming bark
Awoke a startled bird.

610

Again she look'd, and once again
Hop'd she her love should see,
A glimpse of moonlight checq'd the plain—
‘Ah, here he comes, 'tis he!’
The trees hung o'er the shady way,
'Twas but a shadow'd oak.
The stock-dove wak'd the mimic lay,
‘Ah, there my Henry spoke!’

‘Ah, this is he! I know his tread!’
Again her hope's a dream;
Her wandering cows had left their shed,
And jump'd across the stream.
‘Ah, then he spoke, 'twas Henry plain!’
She felt she knew not how;
Alas, the clock but told again
That he had broke his vow.

When wearied out, her home she seeks,
Where nought could please her view;
The tear stole silent down her cheeks,
Two rose-leaves in the dew:
Her auburn hair with sweetest grace
That down her temples spread,
The night-breeze wip'd it from her face,
And kiss'd her in his stead.

611

TO ---

[Thou lovely bud, with many weeds surrounded]

Thou lovely bud, with many weeds surrounded,
I once again address thee with a song;
To cheer thee up 'gainst Envy's adder-tongue
That deeply oft thy reputation wounded,
And did thy tender blossom mickle wrong.
But, look thou up!—'tis known in nature's law
That serpents seek the honey-hoarding bee,
Rosemary's sweets the loathsome toad will draw,
So beauty curdles envy's look on thee.
Fain would the peacock's tail the bow express
Which paints the clouds so sweet in April's rain,
And just the same, that imp of ugliness
Mimics thy lovely blossom,—but in vain;
And fain would poison what she can't possess.

612

RURAL MORNING

Soon as the twilight thro the distant mist
In silver [h]emmings skirts the purple east
Ere yet the sun unveils his smiles to view
& drys the mornings chilly robes of dew
Young hodge the horse boy with a soodling gait
Slow climbs the stile or opes the creaky gate
With willow switch & halter by his side
Prepard for dobbin whom he means to ride
The only tune he knows still whistling oer
& humming scraps his father sung before
As ‘wantley dragon’ & the ‘magic rose’
The whole of music which his village knows
That wild remembrance in each little town
From mouth to mouth thro ages handles down
Onward he jolls nor can the minstrel throngs
Entice him once to listen to their songs
Nor marks he once a blossom on his way
A sensless lump of animated clay
With weather beaten hat of rusty brown
Stranger to brinks & often times a crown

613

With slop frock suiting to the ploughmans taste
Its greezy skirtings twisted round his waiste
& hardnd hiloes clenchd with nails around
Clamping defiance oer the stoney ground
The deadly foes of many a blossomd sprout
That luckless happens in each mornings rout
In hobbling speed he roams the pasture round
Till hunted dobbin & the rest are found
Where some from frequent meddlings of his whip
Well knows their foe & often trys to slip
While dobbin tam'd by age & labour stands
To meet all trouble from his brutish hands
& patient leads to gate or knowley brake
The teazing burthen of his foe to take
Who soon as mounted with his switching weals
Puts Dobs best swiftness in his heavy heels
The toltering bustle of a blundering trot
Which whips & cudgels neer increasd a jot
Tho better speed was urged from the clown
& thus he snorts & jossles to the town
& now when toil & summers in its prime
In every vill at mornings earliest time
To early risers many a hodge is seen
& many a dob's heard clattering oer the green
Now straying beams from days unclosing eye
In copper colourd patches flush the sky

614

& from nights prison strugglingly encroach
To bring the summons of warm days approach
Till slowly mounting oer the ridge of clouds
That yet half shows his face & half enshrouds
Th'unfetterd sun takes his unbounded reign
& wakes all life to noise & toil again
& while his opening mellows oer the scenes
Of wood & field their many mingling greens
Industrys bustling din once more devours
The soothing peace of mornings early hours
The grunt of hogs freed from their nightly dens
& constant cacklings of new laying hens
& ducks & geese that clamorous joys repeat
The splashing comforts of the pond to meet
& chirping sparrows dropping from the eaves
For offal curnels that the poultry leaves
Oft signal calls of danger chittering high
At skulking cats & dogs approaching nigh
& lowing steers that hollow echoes wake
Around the yard their nightly fast to brake
As from each barn the lumping flail rebounds
In mingling consert with the rural sounds
While oer the distant fields more fainter creep
The murmuring bleetings of unfolding sheep

615

& ploughmens callings that more hoarse proceed
Where tuff industry urges labours speed
& bellowing cows that wait with udders full
The welcome haloo of the maids ‘cum mull’
& rumbling waggons deafen now again
Rousing the dust along the narrow lane
& cracking whips & shepherds hooting crys
From wood land echoes surgeing sharp replys
Hodge in his waggon marks the wonderous tongue
& talks with echoe as he drives along
Still cracks his whip bawls every horses name
& echo still as ready bawls the same
The puzzling mysterey he woud vainly cheat
& fein woud utter what it cant repeat
Till speedless trials proves the doubted elf
As skilld in noise & sounds as hodge himself
& quite convincd with the proofs it gives
The boy drives on & fancys eccho lives
As some wood fiend that fright benighted men
The troubling spirit of a robbers den
& now the blossom of the village view
With airy hat of straw & apron blue
& short sleevd gown that half to guess reveals
By fine turnd arms what beauty it conceals
Whose cheeks health flushes with as sweet a red
As that which strip[e]s the woodbine oer her head

616

Deeply she blushes on her morning pad
To prove the fondness of some passing lad
Who with a smile that thrills her soul to view
Holds the gate open till she passes through
While turning nodds beck thanks for kindness done
& looks—if looks coud speak proclaims her won
With well scourd buckets on proceeds the maid
& drives her cows to milk beneath the shade
Were scarce a sunbeam to molest her steals
Sweet as the thyme that blossoms were she kneels
& there oft scares the cooing amorous dove
With her own favourd melodys of love
Snugly retird in yet dew laden bowers
The sweetest specimen of rural flowers
Proving red glowing in the morning wind
The powers of health & nature when combind
Last on the road the cow boy carless swings
Leading tamd cattle in their tending strings
With shining tin to keep his dinner warm
Swung at his back or tuckd beneath his arm
Whose sun burnt skin & cheeks chuffd out with fat
Are dy'd as rusty as his napless hat
& others driving loose their herds at will
Are now heard howping up the pasture hill

617

Peeld sticks they bear of hazel or of ash
The rib markd hides of restless cows to thrash
In sloven garb appears each bawling boy
As fit & suiting to their rude employ
Their shoes worn down by many blundering treads
Oft shows the tennants needing safer sheds
& tatterd cloaths that scarcely screen the back
Which pasture hedges daily put to rack
The pithy bunch of unripe nuts to seek
& crabs sun-reddend with a tempting cheek
& daubd about as if besmeard with blood
Staind with the berries of the brambly wood
That stud the straggling briars as black as jet
Which when their cattle lare they run to get
Or smaller kinds as if beglossd with dew
Shining dim powderd with a downy blue
That on weak tendrils lowly creeping grow
Where choakd in flags & sedges wandering slow
The brook purls simmering its declining tide
Down the crookd boundings of the pasture side
There they to hunt the luscious fruit delight
& dabbling keep within their charges sight
Oft catching prickly struttles on their rout
& miller thumbs & gudgeons driving out
Hid side the archd brig under many a stone
That from its wall rude passing clowns have thrown

618

& while in peace cows eat & chew their cuds
Moozing cool shelterd neath the skirting woods
To double uses they the hours convert
& turn the toils of labour into sport
Till morns long streaking shadows loose their tails
& cooling winds swoon into futtering gales
& searching sunbeams warm & sultry creep
Warming the teazing inscets from their sleep
& dreaded gadflyes with their drowsey hum
On the burnt wings of mid-day zephers come
Urging each lown to leave his sports in fear
To stop the gadding cows from sturting bye
Droning unwelcome tidings on his ear
That the sweet peace of rural morns gone bye

619

THE CROSS ROADS OR HAYMAKERS STORY

Stopt by the storm that long in sullen black
From the south west staind its encroaching track
Haymakers hussling from the rain to hide
Sought the grey willows by the pasture side
& there while big drops bow the grassy stems
& bleb the withering hay with pearly gems
Dimple the brook & patter in the leaves
The song & tale an hours restraint relieves
& while the old dames gossip at their ease
& pinch the snuff box empty by degrees
The young ones join in loves delightfull themes
Truths told by gipsys & expounded dreams
& mutterd things kept secrets from the rest
Of sweethearts names & who they love the best

620

& dazzling ribbons they delight to show
The last new favours of some weigling beau
That with such treacherey trys their hearts to move
& like the highest bribes the maidens love
The old dames jealous of their wisperd praise
Throw in their hints of mans deluding ways
& one to give her counsels more effect
& by examples illustrate the fact
Of innoscence oercome by flattering man
Thrice tappd her box & pinchd & thus began
‘Now wenches listen & let lovers lye
‘Yell hear a story ye may profit bye
‘Im your age threble wi some oddments to't
‘& right from wrong can tell if yell but do't
‘Ye neednt giggle underneath yer hats
‘Mines no joke matters let me tell you that
‘So keep yer quiet till my storys told
‘& dont despise yer betters cause theyre old
‘I wish ye well upon my soul I do
‘& just another pinch & Ill pursue
‘That grave yeve heard of were the four roads meet
‘Were walks the spirit in a winding sheet
‘Oft seen at night by strangers passing late
‘& tarrying neighbours that at market wait
‘Stalking along as white as driven snow
‘& s longs ones shadow when the sun is low
‘The girl thats buried there I knew her well
‘& her whol[e] history if yell hark can tell

621

‘Her name was Jane & neighbours childern we
‘& old companions once as ye may be
‘& like to you on sundays often strolld
‘To Gipseys camps to have our fortunes told
‘& oft god rest her in the fortune book
‘Which we at hay time in our pockets took
‘Our pins at blindfold on the wheel have stuck
‘When hers woud always prick the worst of luck
‘For try poor thing as often as she might
‘Her point woud always on the blank alight
‘Which plainly shows the fortune ones to have
‘As such like go unwedded to the grave
‘& so it provd—the next succeeding may
‘We both went service from our sports & play
‘Tho in the village still as friends & kin
‘Thought neighbours service better to begin
‘As they considerd planning for the best
‘Theyd be more kind then strangers woud at first
‘So out we went Janes place was reckond good
‘Tho she 'bout life but little understood
‘For she'd a master wild as wild can be
‘& far unfit for such a child as she
‘& soon the wisper went about the town
‘That Janes good looks procurd her many a gown
‘From him whose promise was to every one
‘But whose intention was to wive with none

622

‘Twas nought to wonder tho begun by guess
‘For Jane was lovly in her sunday dress
‘& all expected such a rosey face
‘Woud be her ruin—as was just the case
‘The while the change was easily percievd
‘Some months went by ere I such tales believd
‘For theres such people nowadays Lord knows
‘Woud sooner hatch up lies then mend their cloahs
‘& when wi such like tattle they begin
‘Dont mind whose character they spoil a pin
‘Else passing neighbours often markd em smile
‘& watchd him take her milkpail oer a stile
‘& many a time as wandering closer bye
‘From Jenneys bosom met an heavy sigh
‘& often markd her as discoursing deep
‘As doubts might rise to give just cause to weep
‘In smoth[er]ing notice by a wisht disguise
‘To slive her apron corner to her eyes
‘Such signs were mournfull & alarming things
‘& far more weighty then conjecture brings
‘Tho foes made double what they heard of all
‘Swore lies as proofs & prophysied her fall
‘Poor thoughtless wench it seems but sunday past
‘Sin we went out together for the last
‘& plain enough indeed it was to find
‘Shed somthing more then common on her mind
‘For she was always fond & full of chat
‘In passing harmless jokes 'bout beaus & that

623

‘But nothing then was scarcly talkd about
‘& what there was I even forcd it out
‘A gloomy wanness spoilt her rosey cheek
‘& doubts hung there that was not mine to seek
‘She neer so much as mentiond things to come
‘But sighd oer pleasures ere she left her home
‘& now & then a mournfull smile woud raise
‘At freaks repeated of our younger days
‘As I brought up while passing spots of ground
‘Where we when childern hurly burly'd round
‘Or blind mans bluffd some morts of hours away
‘Two games poor thing Jane dearly lovd to play
‘She smild at these but shook her head & sighd
‘When ere she thought my look was turnd aside
‘Nor turnd she round as was her former way
‘To praise the thorn white over then with may
‘Nor stooped once tho thousands round her grew
‘To pull a cowslip as she usd to do
‘For Jane in flowers delighted from a child
‘I like the garden but she lovd the wild
‘& oft on sundays young mens gifts declind
‘Poesys from gardens of the sweetest kind
‘& eager scrambd the single rose to get
‘& woodbine flowers at every bush she met
‘& cowslip blossom with its ruddy streak
‘Woud tempt her furlongs from the pad to seek
‘& gay long purple with its tufty spike
‘Shed wade oer shoes to reach it in the dyke

624

‘& oft while scratting thro the briery woods
‘For tempting cuckoo flowers & vi'let buds
‘Poor Jane Ive known her crying sneak to town
‘& fear her mother when shed tore her gown
‘Ah these were days her conscience viewd wi pain
‘Which all are loath to loose as well as Jane
‘& what I took more odd then all the rest
‘Was that same night she neer a wish exprest
‘To see the gipseys so belovd before
‘That lay a stones throw from us on the moor
‘I hinted it she just replyd agen
‘She once believd 'em but had doubts since then
‘& when we sought our cows I calld ‘cum mull’
‘But she stood silent for her heart was full
‘She lovd dumb things & ere she milkd begun
‘To fuss & stroke them more then ere shed done
‘& tho her tears stood watering in her eye
‘I little took it as her last good bye
‘For she was tender & Ive often known
‘Her mourn for beetles thats bin trampld on
‘So I neer dreamd from this what soon befell
‘Till the next morning rung her passing bell
‘My storys long but times in plenty yet
‘Sin the black clouds betoken nought but wet
‘& Ill een snatch a minutes breath or two
‘& take another pinch to help me thro
‘So as I sed next morn I heard the bell
‘& passing neighbours crossd the street to tell
‘That my poor partner Jinney had bin found
‘In the old flag pool on the pasture drownd

625

‘God knows my heart I twitterd like a leaf
‘& found too late the cause of sundays grief
‘For every tongue was loosd to gabble oer
‘The slanderous things that secrets passd before
‘Wi truth or lies they neednt then be strickt
‘The one they raild at coudnt contradict
‘Twas now no secret of her being beguild
‘& every mouth knew Jinny dyd wi child
‘& tho more cautious with a living name
‘They more then guessd her master bore the blame
‘That very morning it affects me still
‘Ye know the foot pad sidles down the hill
‘Ign'rant as babe unborn I passd the pond
‘To milk as usual in our close beyond
‘& cows were drinking at the waters edge
‘& horses brousd among the flags & sedge
‘& nats & migens dancd the water oer
‘Just as Ive markd em scores o' times before
‘& birds sat singing as in mornings gone
‘While I as unconsernd went soodling on
‘But little dreaming as the wakening wind
‘Flappd the broad ash leaves oer the pond reclind
‘& oer the water crinkd the curdld wave
‘That Jane was sleeping in her watery grave
‘The netterd boy that usd to tend the cows
‘While getting whip sticks from the dangling boughs
‘Of osiers drooping by the water side
‘Her bonnet floating on the top espyd
‘He knew it well & hastnd fearful down
‘To take the terror of his fears to town

626

‘A melancholly story far too true
‘& soon the village to the pasture flew
‘Were from the deepest hole the pond about
‘They draggd poor Jinneys lifless body out
‘& took her home were scarce an hour gone bye
‘She had bin living like to you & I
‘I went wi more & kissd her for the last
‘& thought wi tears on pleasures that were past
‘& the last kindness left me then to do
‘I went at milking were her blossoms grew
‘& handfulls got of rose & lambtoe sweet
‘& put them with her in her winding sheet
‘A wilfull murder jury made the crime
‘Nor parson 'lowd to pray nor bell to chyme
‘On the cross roads far from her friends & kin
‘The usual law for such ungodly sin
‘Who violent hands upon themselves have laid
‘Poor Janes last bed unchristian like was made
‘& there like all whose last thoughts turn to heaven
‘She sleeps & doubtless hopd to be forgiven
‘& tho I sayt for maids thus weigld in
‘I think the wicked men deserve the sin
‘& sure enough we all at last shall see
‘The treachery punishd as it ought to be
‘For ere his wickedness pretended love
‘Jane was Ill bound as spotless as the dove
‘&s good a servant still old folks alow
‘As ever scourd a pail or milkd a cow
‘& ere he led her into ruins way
‘As gay & buxom as a summers day

627

‘The birds that ranted in the hedgerow boughs
‘As night & morning we have sought our cows
‘With yokes & buckets as she bouncd along
‘Were often deafd to silence with her song
‘But now shes gone—girls shun decietfull men
‘The worst of stumbles ye can fall agen
‘Be deaf to them & then as twere yell see
‘Yer pleasures safe as under lock & key
‘Throw not my words away as many do
‘Theyre gold in value tho theyre cheap to you
‘& husseys hearken & be warnd from this
‘If ye love mothers never do amiss
‘Jane might love hers but she forsook the plan
‘To make her happy when she thought of man
‘Poor tottering dame it was too plainly known
‘Her daughters dying hastend on her own
‘For from the day the tydings reachd her door
‘She took to bed & looked up no more
‘& ere agen another year came round
‘She well as Jane was laid within the ground
‘& all was grievd poor goodys end to see
‘No better neighbour enterd house then she
‘A harmless body wi no 'busive tongue
‘Trig as new pins & tights the day were long

628

‘& go the week about nine times in ten
‘Yed find her house as cleanly as her sen
‘But Lord protect us time such change does bring
‘We cannot dream what oer our heads may hing
‘The very house she livd in stick & stone
‘Sin goody dyd has tumbld down & gone
‘& where the majoram ance & sage & rue
‘& balm & mint wi curld leaf parsley grew
‘& double marygolds & silver thyme
‘& pumkins neath the window usd to climb
‘& where I often when a child for hours
‘Tryd thro the pails to get the tempting flowers
‘As Ladys Laces everlasting peas
‘True love lies bleeding with the hearts at ease
‘& golden rods & tanzey running high
‘That oer the pail tops smild on passers bye
‘Flowers in my time that every one woud praise
‘Tho thrown like weeds from gardens now adays
‘Were these all grew now henbane stinks & spreads
‘& docks & fissles shake their seedy heads
‘& yearly keeps wi nettles smothering oer
‘Nor house nor dame nor gardens known no more
‘While neighbouring nigh one lonly eldern tree
‘Is all thats left of what had us'd to be
‘Marking the place & bringing up wi tears
‘The recollections of ones younger years
‘& now Ive done yere each at once as free
‘To take yer trundle as ye usd to be

629

‘To take right ways as Jinney shoud have taen
‘Or headlong run & be a second Jane
‘For by one thoughtless girl thats acted ill
‘A thousand may be guided if they will
‘As oft mong folks to labour bustling on
‘We mark the foremost kick agen a stone
‘Or stumble oer a stile they meant to climb
‘While hind ones see & shun the fall in time
‘But ye Ill bound fort like a mort the best
‘Loves tickling nick nacks & the laughing jest
‘& ten times sooner then be warnd by me
‘Woud each be sitting on some fellows knee
‘& sooner 'lieve the lyes wild chaps will tell
‘Then old dames cautions who woud wish ye well
‘So have yer wills’—she pinchd her box again
& ceasd her tale & listnd to the rain
Which still as usual patterd fast around
& bowd the bent head loaded to the ground
While larks their naked nests by force forsook
Prund their wet wings in bushes by the brook
The maids impatient now old goody ceasd
As restless childern from the school releasd
Right gladly proving what she'd just foretold
That young ones stories was preferd to old
Turn to the wisperings of their former joy
That oft decieve but very rarely cloy

630

DEATH OF DOBBIN

At days mid hour when weary labour stops
& neath the shade of ash or hazel drops
To eat his bread & rest him for awhile
Fit strength recruiting for resuming toil
Old nathan wanderd to the pasture side
Were worn out dobbin tother morning dyd
He knew him well & many a weary morn
With dobbins aid had scores of furrows drawn
& like old parted friends his tear was shed
While noisey magpys chatterd oer his head
That seemly scolded an unwelcome guest
Whose feard intrusions stopt their mangling feast
He bended oer the bones & with a sigh
Recounted thus the merits that was bye
‘Poor faithfull dob[b]in I regret to see
‘The last sad end of such a horse as thee
‘For every drop of thine was noble blood
‘Nor didst thou own a hair but what was good
‘In every ploughman thou a friend coudst win
‘One idle bone neer harbourd in thy skin
‘Thou never needed whipping no not thou
‘Words were enough when yokd to cart or plough

631

‘How ever cruel boys thy worth might see
‘Toils urging weapons neer was meant for thee
‘At cart & plough when thou wast young & stout
‘Ive been thy maytey many a year about
‘& never did I find the whol[e] day long
‘One shifty trick to need the drivers thong
‘At rough or smooth old dobbin was the horse
‘To take it gently or to use his force
‘When elted deep in mirey lanes & roads
‘No whips was needed to remove the loads
‘Not they indeed good words & gentle ways
‘Were quite sufficient in thy younger days
‘& tho good corn might others make as stout
‘A better horse was never harnessd out
‘Thy heart was willing & to yield too good
‘& tho a cart horse bay thoudst best of blood
‘Ive tryd thy utmost courage in its prime
‘& never known it fail a single time
‘When all have faild were heavy loads was stall'd
‘& thou the stay of all the team was call'd
‘For all at pinching jobs the farm about
‘Sought thy old courage boy to help em out

632

‘Nor sooner was thou yokd & their fond pride
‘Had clapt its praises on thy sleeky side
‘Then all the trying force thy strength decreed
‘Fell too as willing as yed gone to feed
‘Pull after pull with but a single word
‘& wind & at it of thy own accord
‘Repeated trials urgd in vain to flinch
‘What ere was gaind thou never lost an inch
‘& soon if equal to thy strength it provd
‘The load wer loosend & all doubts removd
‘& if long pulling showd the match too much
‘Thy spirit dobbin in extreems was such
‘That if Ill bound uncheckd in luckless hours
‘Theyd left thee grappling wi unequal powers
‘When worn fatigued upon yer knees yed dropt
‘& tuggl'd at it till yer breath'd bin stopt
‘& ere yed yielded boy I know yer pride
‘Yer heart yed bursted neath the load & dyd
‘& thou at other works wer still as good
‘First rate in most the name of dob[b]in stood
‘At lighter jobbs that gentler ways require
‘Thou still woudst do them to the hearts desire
‘& tho so turbulent when strength wer claimd
‘A gentler soul then dobbin cant be namd
‘Mild as a lamb a very child might guide
‘& walk undangerd by his gentle side

633

‘Thou from our wenches dob near faild of praise
‘For faithful steadiness on market days
‘Thou might lack speed but none had safer legs
‘For brittle loads of butter & of eggs
‘& tho of time thou needed greater share
‘& on thy journey neer had much to spare
‘Yer trusty safty rarely known to fall
‘Oer stones & ruts made recompence for all
‘Ye never rund away nor turnd askew
‘From sheep or shadows as a many do
‘Nor woud ye hazard dangers ways so cheap
‘Were nothing tempted ye to urge a leap
‘No spur ere made coud make Ill answer fort
‘Ye risk the hazard of your neck for nought
‘No trifle frit ye & Ill bound a mile
‘Ye'd sooner go then shortn't oer a stile
‘So maids on dobbin knew themselves secure
‘& lovd his slowness as it provd so sure
‘I always lovd thee boy & love thee still
‘& cannot praise too much say what I will
‘For Ive with thee done many a hardy job
‘& felt well suited if I had but dob
‘Wi out a driver Ive gone plough wi thee
‘& thurrows drawn as straight as lines coud be
‘For e'ery servant boasted in the pride
‘To be wi dobbins usfull aid supplyd
‘To have him in their teams for well they knew
‘A horses worth that coud be trusted too

634

‘Those days are past & dobbin thou art dead
‘On the same pasture were thoust often fed
‘& oft as tented on this self same plain
‘Were oer thee now I tell my tale in vain
‘Ive markd thee dob full many a youthful day
‘To kick & gallop in thy wanton play
‘While thy bright skin betrayd the feeds of corn
‘Which I cribd for thee every night & morn
‘Tho partners had their share—I none woud pine
‘But a spare quartern always doubld thine
‘& thou Ill answer fort deservd the bait
‘& none that knew thee will be shamd to sayt
‘A better horse then thee neer pulld at rack
‘Nor was gears lifted oer a worthier back
‘Nor will a collar witness stauncher blood
‘Then thines bin dobbin be they ere so good
‘Tho on the pasture now thy carcass lies
‘The mangling sport of croaking crows & pies—
‘Tho thoud some failings dobbin so have all
‘But then to call em faults there most too small
‘In thy young days full often when at morn
‘Ive fetchd thee up from pasture to thy corn
‘Ive missd thee from the rest on tresspass strayd
‘While faithless dews thy footing tracks betrayd
‘Full fond of toothsome bits thou oft was found
‘In lawless plunderings on a neighbours ground

635

‘& spite of stiffnd joints from toil & sweat
‘& sharp rebukes thy meddlings often met
‘Tho in thy toils the gentlest slave on earth
‘& heavy heeld a carter from thy birth
‘Woud often blunder thro the fences way
‘To taste a stack of clover or of hay
‘Boys whips might switch thee wi unwelcom hits
‘But I near chid thee for thy pilferd bits
‘Nor didst thou fear me dobbin in the least
‘When ere I catchd thee at thy savory feast
‘Thou knew old friends that never usd thee ill
‘& neighd a welcome & stood eating still
‘& while the rest was driving on before
‘Woud cheerly follow to the stable door
‘I never knew it sin thy name I knew
‘To prove thee skewish from the halters view
‘No fickleness was never known in dob
‘Prefering freedom to a hardy job
‘But now old boy thourt lost to toil & me
‘& crows & pies to pick thy bones are free
‘& thou I says thoust bin a worthy slave
‘& did I own thee thou shoudst find a grave
‘Free from the crews that worn out worth devours
‘But thourt not mine & all is past my powers
‘I can but praise thee dob & mourn thy fate
‘& that Ill do while tongue I have to say't
‘Poor dobbin’—here he pausd & lookd around
& markd his master in a distant ground

636

Which dampt at once his praises & his pains
& urgd him hastening to his toils again
Tho oft he turnd back looks upon his mate
& sighd repeatings on his partners fate
Whose name full oft in unheard mutterings fell
‘Poor dobbin worthy dobbin fare thee well’
The pies & crows that watchd in neighbouring shade
At nats retreat a joyful chattering made
Left free once more upon his bones to feast
The common end of many a worthy beast

RURAL EVENING

The sun now sinks behind the woodland green
& twittering spangles glow the leaves between
So bright & dazzling on the eye it plays
As if noons heats had kindld to a blaze
But soon it dims in red & heavier hues
& shows wild fancy cheated in her views
A mist like moister rises from the ground
& deeper blueness stains the distant round
The eye each moment as it gazes oer
Still loosing objects which it markd before

637

The woods at distance changing like to clouds
& spire points croodling under evenings shrouds
Till forms of things & hues of leaf & flower
In deeper shadows as by majic power
With light & all in scarce percievd decay
Puts on mild evenings sober garb of grey
While in the sleepy gloom that blackens round
Dies many a lulling hum of rural sound
From cottage door farm yard & dusty lane
Were home the cart horse tolters with the swain
& padded holm were village boys resort
& bawl enrapturd oer their evening sport
Till night awakens superstitions dread
& drives them prisoners to a restless bed
Thrice happy eve of days no more to me
Who ever thought such change belongd to thee
When like to boys whom now thy gloom surounds
I chasd the stag or playd at fox & hounds
Or wanderd down the lane with many a mate
To play at swee swaw on the pasture gate
Or on the threshold of some cottage sat
To watch the flittings of the shrieking bat
Who seemly pleasd to mock our treacherous view
Woud even swop & touch us as he flew
& vainly still our hopes to entertain
Woud stunt his rout & circle us again
Till wearied out wi many a coaxing call
Which boyish superstition loves to brawl
His shill song shrieking he betook to flight
& left us puzzld in short sighted night

638

Those days have fled me as from them they steal
& Ive felt losses they must shortly feel
For sure such ends makes every bosom sore
To think of pleasures they must meet no more
Now from the pasture milking maidens come
With each a swain to bear the burthen home
Who often coax them on their pleasant way
To soodle longer out in loves delay
While on a molhill or a resting stile
The simple rustics tries their arts the while
With glegging smiles & hopes & fears between
A snatching kiss to open what they mean
& all the utmost that their tongues can do
The honyd words which nature learns to woo
The wild flowers sweets of language ‘Love’ & ‘dear’
With warmest utterings meets each maidens ear
Who as by magic smit she knows not why
From the warm look that waits a wishd reply
Droops fearfull down in loves delightfull swoon
As slinks the blossom from the suns of noon
While sighs half smotherd from the throbbing breast
& broken words sweet trembling oer the rest
& cheeks in blushes burning turnd aside
Betrays the plainer what she strives to hide
The amor[o]us swain sees thro the feignd disguise
& proves the fondness she at first denies

639

& with all passions love & truth can move
Urges more strong the simpering maid to love
More freely using toying ways to win
Tokens that echo from the soul within
Her soft hand nipping that with ardour burns
& timid gentlyier presses its returns
& stealing pins with innoscent deciet
To loose the 'kerchief from its envyd seat
& unawares her bonnet to untye
Her dark brown ringlets wiping gently bye
To steal a kiss in seemly feignd disguise
As love yields kinder taken by supprise
While she near conquerd less resentment move[s]
& owns at last mid tears & sighs she loves
With sweetest feelings that this world bestows
Now each to each their inmost souls disclose
Vow to be true & to be truly taen
Repeat their loves & vow it oer again
& pause at loss of language to exclaim
Those purest pleasures yet with out a name
& while in highest extacy of bliss
The shepherd holds her yielding hand in his
He turns to heaven to witness what he feels
& silent shows what want of words consceals
& ere the parting moments hussles nigh
& night in deeper dye his curtain dips
Till next days evening glads the anxious eye
He swears his truth & seals it on her lips

640

At evens hour the truce of toil tis sweet
The sons of labour at their ease to meet
On piled bench beside the cottage door
Made up of mud & stones & sodded oer
Were rustic taste at leisure trimly weaves
The rose & straggling woodbines to the eaves
& on the crouded spot that pails enclose
The white & scarlet daisey rears in rows
& trailing peas in bunches training neat
Perfuming even with a luscious sweet
& sun flowers planting for their gilded show
That scale the windows lattice ere they blow
& sweet to 'habitants within the sheds
Peep thro the diamond pane their golden heads
Or black smiths shop were ploughs & harrows lye
Well known to every child that passes bye
By shining share that litter on the floor
& branded letters burnt upon the door
& hard burnt cinders flung as usless bye
That year by year in some spare corner lye
Were meddling boys their ready weapons meet
To pelt each other up & down the street
Or aught that pleases each mischievous eye
As harmless hogs & bullocks passing bye
Or squatting martins neath the eves at rest
That oft are wakd to mourn a ruind nest
& sparrows now that love their nests to leave
In dust to flutter at the cool of eve

641

For such like scenes the gossip leaves her home
& sons of labour light their pipes & come
To talk of wages wether high or low
& mumbld news that still as secrets go
As gossips knowledge of awaited births
Expected marriages & dreaded deaths
& heedless seen to all the rest may say
The beckoning lover nodds the maids away
& at a distance many an hour employs
In jealous wisperings oer their amorous joys
As childern round their teazing sports prolong
To twirl the top or bounce the hoop along
Or shout across the street their one catch all
Or progg the hous'd bee from the cotters wall
While at the parish cottage walld wi dirt
Were all the cumbergrounds of life resort
From the low door that bows two props between
Some feeble tottering dame surveys the scene
By them reminded of the long lost day
When she her self was young & went to play
& turning to the painfull scenes agen
The mournfull changes she has met since then
Her aching heart the contrast moves so keen
Een sighs a wish that life had never been
& vainly sinning while she strives to pray
Half smotherd discontent pursues its way

642

In wispering providence how blest shed been
If lifes last troubles shed escapd unseen
If ere want sneakd for grudgd support from pride
Shed only shard of childhoods joys & dyd
& as to talk some passing neighbours stand
& shoves their box within her tottering hand
She turns from echos of her younger years
& nips the portion of her snuff wi tears

RUSTIC FISHING

On sunday mornings freed from hard employ
How oft I mark the young mischevous boy
With anxious haste his poles & lines provide
For make shifts oft crookd pins to threadings ty'd
& delve his knife with wishes ever warm
In rotten dunghills for the grub & worm
The harmless treachery of his hooks to bait
Tracking the dewy grass wi many a mate
To seek the brook that down the meadows glide
Where the grey willow shadows by its side
Were flag & reed in wild disorder spread
& bending bulrush bows its taper head

643

& just above the surface of the floods
Where water lileys mount their snowy buds
On whose broad swimming leaves of glossy green
The shining dragon flye is often seen
& hanging thorns whose roots washd bare appear
That shields the morehens nest from year to year
While crowding osiers mingling wild among
Prove snug asylums to her brood when young
Who when suppris'd by foes approaching near
Plunge neath the weeping boughs & dissapear
There far from terrors that the parson brings
Or church bell hearing when the summons rings
Half hid in meadow sweet & kecks high flowers
In lonly sports they spend the sunday hours
Tho ill supplyd for fishing seems the brook
That breaks the weald in many a stinted crook
Oft choakd in weeds & foild to find a road
The choice retirement of the snake & toad
Then lost in shallows dimpling restlessly
In fluttering struggles murmuring to be free
Oer gravel stones its depth can scarcly hide
It runs the remnant of its broken tide
Till seemly weary of each choakd controul
It rests collected in some gulled hole
Scoopd by the sudden floods when winters snow
Melts in confusion by a hasty thaw
There bent in hopfull musings on the brink
They watch their floating corks that seldom sink
Save when a warey roach or silver bream
Nibbles the worm as passing up the stream

644

Just urging expectations hopes astray
To view the dodging cork then slink away
Still hopes keep burning with untird delight
Till wobbling curves keep waveing like a bite
If but the breezy wind their floats shoud spring
& move the water with a troubling ring
A captive fish still fills the anxious eyes
& willow wicks lie ready for the prize
Till evening gales awaken damp & chill
& nip the hopes that morning suns instill
When resting flyes have tired their gauzy wing
Nor longer tempt the watching fish to spring
Who at the worm nor nibbles more repeat
But lunge from night in sheltering flag retreat
Then dissapointed in their days employ
They seek amusment in a feebler joy
Short is the sigh for fancys provd untrue
With humbler hopes still pleasure they pursue
Where the rude oak bridge scales the narrow pass
Half hid in rustling reeds & scrambling grass
Or stepping stones stride oer the narrow sloughs
Which maidens daily cross to milk their cows
There they in artless glee for minnows run
& wade & dabble past the setting sun
Chasing the struttle oer the shallow tide
& flat stones turning up were gudgeons hide
Hopes visions with success here runneth high
& on a rush they string the little frye
All former hopes their ill success delayd
In this new change they fancy well repayd

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& thus they wade & chatter oer their joys
Till night unlookd for young success destroys
Drives home the sons of solitude & streams
& stops uncloyd hopes ever freshning dreams
Who then like school boys that at truant play
In sloomy fear lounge on their homward way
& inly trembling as they gain the town
To meet chastisment from a parents frown
Where hazel twigs in readiness prepard
For their long abscence brings a mete reward

SUNDAY WALKS

How fond the rustics ear at leisure dwells
On the soft soundings of his village bells
As on a sunday morning at his ease
He takes his rambles just as fancys please
Down narrow baulks that interscet the fields
Hid in profusions that its produce yields
Long twining peas in faintly misted greens
& winged leaf multitudes of crowding beans
& flighty oatlands of a lighter hue
& speary barley bowing down with dew

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& browning wheat ear on its taper stalk
With gentle breezes bending oer the baulk
Greeting the parting hand that b[r]ushes near
With patting welcomes of a plentious year
Or narrow lanes were cool & gloomy sweet
Hedges above head in an arbour meet
Meandering down & resting for awhile
Upon a moss clad molhill or a stile
While every scene that on his leisure crowds
Wind waving vallies & light passing clouds
In brighter colors seem to meet the eye
Then in the bustle of the days gone bye
A peacful solitude around him creeps
& nature seemly oer its quiet sleeps
No more is heard save sutherings thro the trees
Of brisk wind gushes or a trembling breeze
& song of linnets in the hedgrow thorn
As twittering welcomes to the days return
& hum of bees were labours doomd to stray
In ceasless bustle on his weary way
& low of distant cattle here & there
Seeking the stream or dropping down to lare
& bleat of sheep & horses playfull neigh
From rustics whips & plough & waggon free
Biting in carless freedom oer the leas
Or turnd to knap each other at their ease
While neath the bank on which he rests his head
The brook mourns drippling oer its pebbly bed

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& wimpers soothingly a calm serene
Oer the lulld comforts of a sunday scene
He ponders round & muses with a smile
On thriving produce of his earlier toil
What once was curnels from his hopper sown
Now browning wheat ears & oat bunches grown
& pea pods swelld by blossoms long forsook
& nearly ready for the scythe & hook
He pores wi wonder on the mighty change
Which suns & showers perform & thinks it strange
& tho no philisophic reasoning draws
His musing marvels home to natures cause
A simple feeling in him turns his eye
To where the thin clouds smoak along the sky
& there his soul consents the power must reign
Who rules the year & shoots the spindling grain
Lights up the sun & sprinkles rain below
The fount of nature whence all causes flow
Thus much the feelings of his bosom warms
Nor seeks he further then his soul informs
A six days prisoner lifes support to earn
From dusty cobwebs & the murky barn
The weary thresher meets the rest thats given
& thankfull sooths him in the boon of heaven
& sabbath walks enjoys along the fields
With loves sweet pledges poddling at his heels
That oft divert him with their childish glee
In fruitless chaces after bird & bee

648

& eager gathering every flower they pass
Of yellow lambtoe & the totter grass
Oft wimpering round him dissapointments sigh
At sight of blossoms thats in bloom too high
& twitching at his sleeve their coaxing powers
To urge his hand to reach the tempting flowers
& as he climbs their eager hopes to crown
On gate or stile to pull the blossoms down
Of pale hedgroseys straggling wild & tall
& scrambling woodbines that outgrows them all
Turns to the days when he himsen woud teaze
His tender father for such toys as these
& smiles with rapture as he plucks the flowers
To meet the feelings of those lovly hours
& blesses sundays rest whose peace at will
Retains a portion of those pleasures still
& when the duty of the days expird
& priest & parish offerd whats requird
When godly farmer shuts his book again
To talk of profits from advancing grain
Short memory keeping what the parson read
Prayers neath his arm & business in his head
& dread of boys the clerk is left to close
The creaking church door on its weeks repose

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Then leave me sundays remnant to employ
In seeking sweets of solitary joy
& lessons learning from a simpler tongue
Were nature preaches in a crickets song
Were every tiney thing that lives & creeps
Some feeble language owns its prayer to raise
Were all that lives by noise or silence keeps
An homly sabbath in its makers praise
There free from labour let my musings stray
Were foot paths ramble from the public way
In quiet lonliness oer many a scene
This grassy close or Grounds of blossomd bean
Oft winding baulks were groves of willows spread
Their welcome waving shadows over head
& thorns beneath in woodbines often drest
Inviting strongly in their peace to rest
Or wildly left to follow choice at will
Oer many a trackless vale & pathless hill
Or natures wilderness oer heaths of goss
Each foot step sinking anckle deep in moss
By pleasing interuptions often tyd
An hedge to clamber or a brook to stryde
Were nought of 'proaching feet or noises rude
Molests the quiet of ones solitude

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Save birds song broken by a false alarm
Thro branches fluttering from their fancyd harm
& cows & sheep the startld low & bleat
Disturbd from lare by ones unwelcome feet
The all thats met in sundays slumbering ease
That rather adds then checks the power to please
& sweet it is to creep ones blinded way
Were woodland boughs shuts out the smiles of day
Were hemmd in glooms that scarce give leave to spy
A passing cloud or patch of purple sky
Tracking half hidden from the world beside
Sweet hermit nature that in woodlands hide
Were namless flowers that never meet the sun
Like bashing modesty the sight to shun
Buds in their snug retreat & bloom & dye
With out one notice of a passing eye
There while I drop me in the woody waste
Neath arbours nature fashions to her taste
Entwining oak trees with the ivys gloom
& wood bines propping over boughs to bloom
& scallopt briony mingling round her bowers
Whose fine bright leaves make up the want of flowers
With natures minstrels of the woods let me
Thou lord of sabbaths add a song to thee
A humble offering for the holy day
Which thou most wise & graciously hast given
As leisure dropt in labours rugged way
To claim a passport wi the rest to heaven

652

THE WIDOW OR CRESS GATHERER

Soon as the spring its earliest visit pays
& buds wi march & aprils lengthend days
Of mingld suns & shades & snow & rain
Forcing the crackling frost to melt again
Oft sprinkling from their bosoms as they come
A dwindling daisey here & there to bloom
I mark the widow & her orphan boy
In preparation for their old employ
The same lorn figures as they usd to be
Rags pinchd with hungry care from poverty
The cloak & hat that had for seasons past
Repelld the rain & buffeted the blast

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Tho worn to shreddings still are occupyd
In makeshifts way their nakedness to hide
For since her husband dyd her hopes are few
When times wore out the old to purchase new
Upon the green theyre seen by rising sun
To sharp winds croodling they woud vainly shun
Wi baskets on their arms & hazel crooks
Dragging the sprouting cresses from the brooks
A savory sallad sought for luxurys whim
Tho small reward her labours meet from him
When parceld out she humbly takes for sale
The simple produce of the waterd vale
In yearly visits to some market town
Meeting by turns a penny & a frown
Of all the masks desception ever weaves
Life thines the visage that the most decieves
One hour of thine an emperors glory greets
Another turns him begging in the streets
Een this poor wretch thy meanest link who lives
On scantest sustenance that labour gives
Has known her better days when thou times gone
Een condescended to look kind upon
Times went not thus when abler hands supplyd
Thy vain existance ere her husband dyd

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Who various ways a living did pursue
Clerk of the parish & schoolmaster too
Who puntual always rung the evening bell
& sung amen on sundays loud & well
& tho not nice in this & that respect
Was rarely found his duty to neglect
His worldly ways religions neer perplext
He never faild to reccolect the text
Or quote the sermons passages by heart
In warm devotion oer an honest quart
& as a brother of those subtle tools
That makes such figuring in our country schools
He lovd his skill to flourish & to shew
As well as godly he was learned too
Tho wi the boast most common to his kin
The use of figures he knew little in
By far too puzzling for his head was they
He sought fames purchase by an easier way
& like his scholars with his a b c
Was found more ready then the rule of three

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In 'rithmetic & such like crabbed stuff
Far as reduction he deemd learnd enough
Hed other learning nigher hand for him
& that he could not reach he calld a whim
Hed many things to crack on with his ale
For clowns less learned to wonder at the tale
& oer his pot hed take the news & preach
& observations make from speech to speech
Till those around him swore each wise remark
Showd him more fit for parson then for clerk
& hed to minutes tell when moons were new
& 'clipses talk about the seasons thro
& saint days all the callender declares
Run oer as ready as hed read his prayers
& change of weather jud[g]ing foul or fine
Mystic conclusions drawn from many a sign
Of dripping moons or suns in crimsons set
To him sure tokens as to fair or wet
& wonders telling from the yearly store
That fills the learned almanacks of moor

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Earthquakes & plagues & floods were known & when
From second father noahs days till then
Till most gave out had he divulgd his trade
Hed made best almanacks that ere was made
& wonderd greatly when he dyd to find
He left no fragment of his art behind
& as he always for the sake of fame
Conseald the sources whence his learning came
His artless listners who of books none knew
'Sides the large bibles in the parsons pew
Thought he more things then lawful understood
& knowledge got from helpers none too good
When he was living shed her comforts then
& knew no trials to support her sen
Tho industry woud oft from leisure steal
Odd hours to knit or turn the spinning wheel
Choice is not misery she had neighbours fare
Got hand to mouth & descent cloaths to wear
Tho joys fall sparing in this checkerd life
Wide difference parts the widow from the wife
Encroaching want showd not such frightfull form
Or drove her dithering in the numbing storm

657

Picking half naked round the brooks for bread
To earn her penny ere she can be fed
In grief pursuing every chance to live
That timly toils in seasons please to give
Thro hot & cold some weather as it will
Striving wi pain & dissapointed still
Just keeping from expiring lifes last fire
That pining lingers ready to expire
The winter thro near barefoot left to pull
From bramble twigs her little mites of whool
A hard earnd sixpence when her mops are spun
By many a whalk & aching finger won
& eeking hirpling round from time to time
Her harmless sprotes from hedges hung wi ryhme
The daily needings wants worst shifts requires
To hunt her fuel ere she makes her fires
When she while grinning to the hissling blast
Wi buds or berries often breaks her fast
In summer time the little rest of care
Is every morning cheated of its share
& ere one sunbeam glistens in the dew
The long wet pasture grass she dabbles thro

658

Where sprouts the mushroom in the farey rings
Which nights black mistery to perfection brings
& these she seeks ere gins her daily toils
As extra gains to labours scanty spoils
By every means thus lingering life along
& daily struggling gainst a stream too strong
& thus from year to year thro foul & fine
Shed sooner labour tho its but to pine
Then meet severer woes mid threats & frowns
Of those brute emperors of little towns
Whose very names awakens want to tears
When force compells to seek its overseers
Whose ears are shut on griefs severest sighs
Whose hearts are marble when the hungry cries
Railing at mouths that open to be fed
Entailing curses in the lieu of bread
Who een the bed of death stands tearless bye
Were want droops famish'd on his straw to dye
When justice drives em as in dutys part
To offer kindness while its grudgd at heart

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& as they turn them from the sufferers fate
Een sneer to witness that its brought too late
Truth draws the picture coarse as is the blame
& he who drew it once had provd the same
Had freezing want his constant clouded sky
Kept him in darkness hid from pitys eye
Who heard his sorrows & wi instant aid
Stoopd down to bear him from the chilly shade
Above the level of misfortunes den
Were bloodhounds harbour neath the masks of men
To which tho justice now & then may turn
& blunts the weapons yet the cure detains
She seems half sleeping while she hears em mourn
& shuts her eyes upon their keenest pains

660

THE WORKHOUSE ORPHAN

A Tale

Some childish memorys linger while were men
Or pains or pleasures as they touchd us then
Freshing with knowledge as our feelings will
Till manhood comes & there they linger still
Old shepherd robin childish ere he dyd
I knew him well & every boy beside
For he has joind our sports with childish glee
& seemd as happy in our mirth as we
He twirld the top & boasted in the powers
To jelt his pebble farther off then ours
& smild in raptures as we praisd his skill
While making willow whistles or a mill
& large keck trumpets—powers he lovd to show
& much delighted learning us to blow
& tales hed tell us while he tended sheep
We wept to hear & he himself woud weep
For tales of sorrows he woud often tell
& one that touchd as I remember well
He often told it nor left grief to cold
& still it warms me when it last was told
Twas moaning autumn in her oldest hours
When we'd spent many vainly seeking flowers
& found him pottering from the rising wind
To the best shelter which the fields coud find
We joind his steps & dissapointments sighd
& sought a tree & sat us by his side
‘Childern he said the autumns withering hours
‘Has snatchd away your summer & your flowers

661

‘Far different this to summers warmer day
‘When with my hook I reachd yon boughs of may
‘& tyd with rushes easy gatherd flowers
‘Far different those to these decaying hours
‘Yellow are leaves half naked is the bough
‘& neer a blossom has the pasture now
‘So be content & spend an hour with me
‘Ill tell a tale that like the time shall be
‘A tale of tender sorrows which I've told
‘Times out of number both to young & old
‘Poor Mary Lee she was a child with me
‘& one for sorrow she was born to be
‘A hard & cruel world in this she found
‘She met its vice & sunk beneath the wound
‘She sunk but kept her hopes nor feard to find
‘The hard ill usuage which she left behind
‘Nor livd she long leaves oft have left the tree
‘Reminding mortals what their end must be
‘& grass & weeds have often spread anew
‘On other graves since first on hers they grew
‘Tho wide the world were early hope depends
‘Poor Mary met it destitute of friends
‘Left a lorn orphan when her years was few
‘& parish pity was too early due
‘I had a mother but in shame was born
‘She married after but I kept the scorn
‘& she had boys which she as mother prizd
‘But her first born was born to be despisd
‘With Mary Lee the parish was my lot
‘& its cold bounty all the friends I got
‘Dragd from our childhoods pleasures & its plays
‘We pind in workhouse sorrows many days
‘Were many wants recievd their scant supply
‘Were pity never came to check the sigh
‘Save what laws force from tyrant overseers
‘Whose bitter gifts was purchasd with our tears
‘There ragd & starvd & workd beyond our powers
‘We toild those hours you spend in gathering flowers

662

‘Nor mothers smiles had we our toils to cheer
‘But tyrants frowns & threatnings ever near
‘Who beat enfeebld weakness many times
‘& scoft misfortunes agonys as crimes
‘While prides vain childern of a luckier race
‘Were taught to shun our presence as disgrace
‘Thus workhouse misery did we both abide
‘Till our own strength its poverty supplyd
‘& service freed us—freedom did we find
‘In labour there to slavery left behind
‘& Mary grew in spite of every harm
‘To womanhood & not without its charm
‘Tho pride to me was not of scorn bereft
‘& yet disdaind me thro the fate I left
‘It smild on her & she believd the praise
‘Of men that wrongd her in her helpless days
‘& soon she found she did too soon believe
‘That worst of foes befriending to decieve
‘A big young coxcomb farmer Follys son
‘Wisperd in secret how his heart was won
‘& Mary sure the person must admire
‘Of one whose manners apd the country squire
‘Who mockd gentility with dog & gun
‘& quirkd the fields as many such have done
‘Were humbler gents their leisure to amuse
‘From this pretender oft recievd abuse
‘Branding the honest with a poachers blame
‘While he himself deservd a viler name
‘He robd the game with freedom unreservd
‘For which his betters paid to be preservd
‘& on these walks when mary sought her cows
‘He sought his chances & renewd his vows
‘Were soon his civil flatterys gaind their end
‘While he with pride oft entertaind a friend
‘With bragging storys how the fool was won
‘& laughd it off & calld it precious fun
‘At length by time convincd awakend fears
‘There follys learnd & she implord in tears

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‘While the vile wretch ere she her griefs begun
‘Scoft her with names for guilt himself had done
‘& at those tears which shame coud not depress
‘He sneerd & mutterd “Strumpets meet distress”
‘So worser fate & added griefs to shun
‘Force sought the dungeon were they first begun
‘Griefs harmless then now torturd with disgrace
‘Their shamless misery now a hiding place
‘Worse was her lot & humbler was her fees
‘When justice faild her tyrants power to teaze
‘Want wins its favour tho oft slow to win
‘But reason guides it to discourage sin
‘Forcd as the father to the child he paid
‘But left to want its mother he betrayd
‘Boys when yere men have better pride to feel
‘Then wound a heart ye never mean to heal
‘Now pind & starvd despisd by all she knew
‘Too weak for toil yet wishing to pursue
‘Some means for life now linkd with tender tye
‘Which but for that had been a joy to dye
‘She made her matches & her burthen bore
‘To seek compassion at a strangers door
‘But pity deigns not with the proud to live
‘& poor that feel it have not power to give
‘Small was the sum her last rescource supplyd
‘& did but little for her wants provide
‘& wragd & wretched from sad misereys shed
‘While yielding paths betrayd a shoeless tread

664

‘She oft was seen to wander round the fields
‘& sought the berrys which the autumn yields
‘Feeding with birds that twitterd by her side
‘Content to spare her what the proud denyd
‘Thus oft half famishd she from town sojournd
‘& went one morning nor at eve returnd
‘Search soon was made—tho one of small respect
‘Yet feard disgrace forbid them to neglect
‘While one heart doubtless in its hopes was high
‘That fate had freed him & expence was bye
‘Nor if that heart coud be were hopes unblest
‘Search found the mother & the child had rest
‘But reasons abscence did her griefs beguile
‘& madness gave her sorrow strength to smile
‘She kissd it oft & offerd succour still
‘& held it to her bosom cold & chill
‘Then moand & bowd as one that trys to weep
‘& smild agen & hushd its endless sleep
‘Poor perish'd child what it had lingerd in
‘& that night sufferd for anothers sin
‘To see such horrors made me quite distrest
‘For I was one to seek her with the rest
‘As weakness to return that night denyd
‘She crept for shelter which the fields supplyd
‘& found an hovel were shed seemly taen
‘Grass for her infants cradle pulld in vain
‘She seemd to know me but she never spoke
‘Yet wishd it seemd to tell her heart was broke

665

‘For to her heart she oft her hand woud bear
‘& lookd more piteous as she placd it there
‘Again we took her to misfortunes den
‘But joys or sorrows knew no difference then
‘Pride now felt pity when she coud not live
‘& gave its trifle when too late to give
‘No reason ere returnd to feel the ill
‘& death soon came & made her happier still
‘There luckless mary had of pain its share
‘There life met grief & parted with despair
‘In the cold grave from every ill she slept
‘Nor felt the distance which distinction kept
‘North side the church no choice will occupy
‘Force finds the workhouse tenants room to lye
‘Where cold winds frown & sunbeams never come
‘There mary rested in a better home
‘A lone cold corner by the charnell pent
‘Were nettles spread her only monument
‘Childern ye weep but few the years yeve met
‘& reasons young to think of sorrows yet
‘But when yere men & infants climb your knee
‘Then will ye feel & think of Mary Lee’

666

THE FATE OF GENIUS

A Tale

Far from the life of market towns was seen
The humble hutts & spire of topal green
Were from the treetops that the hamlet shields
The white spire mounts & over looks the fields
Meeting the distant view of passing eyes
Were gentle memory often points & sighs
For there amidst the ignorance it wears
Wants chilling views & labours ceasless cares
A rustic genius from the darkness sprung
& sought the muses mid his toils & sung
& warmd with hopes while nature round him smild
He himnd their raptures & his fate beguild
But evil light thro his oblivion gleamd
The world wore smiles his artless hopes esteemd
& warmd with raptures better days to meet
They sought applause & realizd the cheat
Soon envys wasps around his sweets did swarm
& peacfull muses fled the rude alarm
Soon fames vain follys from their ambush rose
Friends while theyre powerless but in public foes
This praisd as fine what that as faults accusd
That urgd amendments which the next abusd

667

Thus mid the wild confusion babel raisd
By one advisd by others scofft & praisd
The damps of dissapointment provd too much
& warm hopes witherd at the chilly touch
Shrinking from life & hopes emblazoned noon
To witness envy had its own too soon
& what remains now linger to be blest
Aside that church were friendship tells the rest
Who placd a stone to mark his lowly sleep
That kindred hearts might find the spot to weep
Were the old sexton deaths undaunted slave
Who knew the bard & dug his early grave
To each request enquireys warmth may raise
Oft gives the tale of his unnoticd days
In hopes calm walks ere flattery smild his friend
& black injustice bade their journey end
‘I knew him from a child’ the clerk woud say
‘& often noticd his dislike to play
‘Oft met him then lone left by woods & streams
‘Muttering about as people do in dreams
‘& neath lone bushes dropt about the field
‘Or peacfull hedges that woud shelter yield
‘With hand beneath his head in silence bent
‘Oft saw him sit & wonderd what it meant

668

‘Nor did his habits alter with his age
‘Still woods & fields his leisure did engage
‘Nor friends nor labour woud his thoughts beguile
‘Still dumb he seemd in company & toil
‘& if ones questions did his dreams supprise
‘His unconscern oft pausd in wrong replys
‘We wonderd many times as well we might
‘& doubted often if his mind was right
‘Een children startld from his oddness ran
‘& shund his wanderings as “the crazy man”
‘Tho harmless as the things he mixd among
‘His ways was gentle & unknown to wrong
‘For Ive oft markd his pity passing bye
‘Disturb the spiders web to save the flye
‘& saw him give to tyrant boys a fee
‘To buy the captive sparrows liberty
‘Each sundays leisure brought the woods their guest
‘& wildest spot which suited him the best
‘As bushy greens & valleys left untilld
‘Were weedy brooks went crooking as they willd
‘Were flags & reeds & sedge disorderd grew
‘These woud his abscence from his home pursue
‘& as he rambld in each peacful round
‘Hed fancy friends in every thing he found
‘Muttering to cattle—aye & even flowers
‘As one in visions claimd his talk for hours
‘& hed oft wonder were we nought coud see
‘On blades of grass & leaves upon the tree
‘& pointed often in a wild supprise
‘To trifling hues of gadding butterflys
‘While if another made new marvels known
‘That seemd to me far wonderous then his own
‘Of ghosts hed seen that nightly walks decievd
‘He heeded not but laughd & disbelievd

669

‘Nights dismal tongues that hardest hearts affright
‘& all may hear that travel out at night
‘Her shadowd howling tenants fierce & grim
‘Tho trifles struck him—such was nought to him
‘At length twas known his ways by woods & brooks
‘Were secret walks for making ryhmes & books
‘Which strangers bought & with amazment read
‘& calld him poet when they sought his shed
‘But men they said like serpents in the grass
‘That skulk in ways which learning has to pass
‘To slander worth which they woud feign posses
‘& dissapointment urges to suppress
‘Snarling at faults too bright for common minds
‘& hiding beautys wisdom warmly finds
‘Such marr'd his powers & slanderd in disguise
‘& tryd to black his merits with their lyes
‘& tho his friends the cheating fraud descryd
‘It hurt too earnest to be wipd aside
‘He dwindld down from too severe a blast
‘& hopes might wish to live that dyd as fast
‘Still he did live till real life seemd as gone
‘& his soul lingerd in a shadowd one
‘& yet he mingld in his favourd ways
‘& bar'd his forhead to the sunny days
‘Listning the lark on fountains moaning wave
‘As like a ghost as ever left its grave
‘& fled the world at last without a sigh
‘& dyd as gentle as a lamb woud dye
‘His learned friends said envys aim was blest
‘That malice killd him—they might know the best

670

‘Else folks less learnd to different causes led
‘Who read his books & marveld as they read
‘Were he so free of ghost & fairey talks
‘They thought he found them on his lonley walks
‘& that some secret which he faild to keep
‘Brought on their anger & his endless sleep
‘Be as it might his life fell in decay
‘& that stone tells when it was calld away
‘Were een the daiseys that around it spread
‘The gifts of spring to dress his lowly bed
‘Are often stole in garden scenes to grow
‘As relics of the dust that sleeps below
‘While the stones verses hid by summers weed
‘Which strangers eager trample down to read
‘Are bye the curious often written down
‘Tho they tell nought of praises or renown’
‘Here sleeps the hopes of one whose glowing birth
‘Was found too warm for this unfeeling earth
‘That frownd & witherd—yet the fruitfull stem
‘Hides here & buds with others warm as them
‘Waiting that sun to warm their bloom to smile
‘& welcome heaven as their native soil

671

PASTIME IN SUMMER

Give me the leisure of a summers day
With one old friend to loiter it away
Were level meadows stretch their green domains
Alive with joys of laughing maids & swains
Some making hay beside our pleasant paths
& mowers sweeping with their even swaths
Neath sheltering haycocks some & willow bowers
Soaking the bottle in their booning hours
Discoursing onward with our lines & hooks
With some refreshments nor without some books
Cheerd by the rural objects as we pass
To were trees shadows keepeth green the grass
Checking intrusions of the summer suns
There drop us down close were the river runs
In sight of rural sounds & pleasing strife
That warms the laughing landscape into life
& while in cheerfull mirth as we prepare
Our sporting things & bait our angles there
With flye or fish of artificial forms
To shun the anguish of the wreathing worms
Feel warm hopes glow with earnest eagerness
To mark the signs that promise us success

672

As gleaming suns that twitter while they gleam
& dance their blazing shadows in the stream
Were small black moths dip light their fluttering wings
& heedless fishes leap in bouncing springs
Curving the flood tho winds withold their breath
In ceasless eddies with their playfull mirth
Then free from bother of entangling weeds
As we throw in were clear the stream proceeds
Watch for the trembling float that shows a bite
& followd jerks that dodge it out of sight
While taper angles as we eager rise
Bend as we pull & prophesy the prize
Thus sporting on till weary with the cheat
The fish get wise & sicken & retreat
Our quiet floats more shoyley sliding bye
To jump at distance for the dancing flye
Leaving us then our leisure to regale
To sip refreshment from our hoarded ale
& loll upon the grass neath willows grey
To view the scene or talk the hours away
Or with my Thompson added joys engage
Reading the season in his blooming page
Were budding springs eternally appear
& fragrant summers freshen all the year
There while the willow oer the water spreads
& bushes throw dark shadows oer our heads
Well fancy Damons rapt in daring dreams
& Musidora's shrinking to the streams

673

With flowing hair let loose upon the breeze
Oer maddening charms a Damon only sees
White breasts & burning cheeks that redder glow
To see the image in the flood below
Tho our real scenes perfections fail to give
Were Musidoras of less beauty live
Yet there are Damons that as warmly burns
& maidens lov'd that make as kind returns
& then as weary of our reading hours
Wed shut our books & look upon the flowers
Or any scene that might engage the eye
As bumming by us went the dragon flye
In wonders admiration often led
To mark confusions nature round us spread
Inscects on constant travel as they past
Shows each new comer different to the last
& butterflyes whose varied painted wings
Boasts every hue that summers glory brings
Like the gilt eyes in peacocks feathers some
Some hued like flowers to which their wanderings come
In namless colours others sport the plains
Hued as misterious as their birth remains
Then cropping flowers that round our sitting dwells
Nor marvel less to meet so many smells
Each different scent possest by different tribes
Sense easy feels but ignorance describes
For like the mistery wonder left before
We know we feel it & we know no more

674

Thus woud we muse oer natures varied book
Were fresh enchantments rose at every look
That with new wonders on our senses come
& still delight us till we ramble home
When suns sink downward with a reddening face
& blue clouds fringe as if with golden lace
Sunk 'hind the meadows bridges calm & chill
& thro the arches peep'd upon us still
While blue cool haziness approachd us round
& misty patches smoakd about the ground
When reeds & flags that rustld by our seat
As if their bloom was witherd by the heat
Now greend agen from gifts which night recieves
As forming dewdrops moisten on the leaves
When laughing labour left its toils & glee
& sought its dwellings with the housing bee
Whose mournfull hums bewails declining day
While waking crickets welcome it away
& fluttering larks betook themselves to rest
& with less caution passd us to their nest
Then woud we leave what leisure had pursued
& in our memorys feel the joy renewd

675

MAGGYS REPENTANCE

Twas sunday eve the sun was out of sight
& left the west sky with a yellow light
While that small wind that ushers night apace
Was fluttering cool on summers burning face
& that sweet light had blest each lovers eye
That brings one star to glimmer in the sky
When maggy dreaming tween regrets & doubt
Took up her hat & pale & soodld out
To the high elms that spread their hanging boughs
Oer the low hovel were she milkd her cows
Nigh to the house but not as one coud hear
& yet so nigh that night brought little fear
For in eves sunbeams ere the last was oer
There longest shadows nearly reachd the door
A favourd spot were memorey fondly dwelt
Were simple love first wisperd what it felt
The spot were robin met her void of guile
& told his vows & often milkd the while

676

Were still hed met had he not found it vain
When maggys folly urgd him to refrain
There past her usual hour to shun the talk
Of gay companions on their sunday walk
She drove her milking oft to be alone
& make an hour of Solitude her own
Care urgd the lonly comforts which she sought
& thus for ease she mutterd what she thought
‘I well may hate the dancing & the night
‘That brought a coxcomb in my silly sight
‘Whose dress & follys lur'd my heart about
‘& made me fancy man was nought with out
‘I hate the night I met wi footman Tim
‘& turnd of[f] robin to take up with him
‘I shoud be crazy in that luckless hour
‘To let white stockings have such foolish power
‘& lapell coats in fashion with the squire
‘I shoud be crazd such tinsel to admire
‘& those vile monkey methods in the dance
‘Which he would wisper “master learnd in france”
‘I stood astounded at the mongrel pride
‘& smiles of wonder hadnt power to hide
‘Which made him caper twenty times the more
‘& like parchd peas he jumpd about the floor
‘& such quere names his foreign dances had
‘A downright puzzle were the memorys bad
‘Waltzes we did like punches dolls efeth
‘& jumpd & hugd till I was out of breath

677

‘& he stept figures poor conscieted fool
‘Which he pretended fashion learns at school
‘& sure enough ere half the night was oer
‘I had my surfeit & coud smile no more
‘Such foolish tricks so fussy to repeat
‘I realy felt as sickend with consciet
‘Hed beg girls poseys as he bugd along
‘To let them hear how he coud use his tongue
‘& oft unbidden out his watch was taen
‘To show the hour but more the watch & chain
‘& while he stood his cash was chinkd about
‘To let folks know his pockets want without
‘& hed pull off his gloves his nails to bite
‘Wi mere excuse to show his hand was white
‘& kept his waiscoat open at the chin
‘To show a frilld shirt & a golden pin
‘& hed take snuff & folks to pinch were bid
‘To see his picture in the boxes lid
‘Curse such consciet—when robin calld him fool
‘I wish Id taen a lesson from his school
‘For Id told robin I would dance with him
‘Till curst misfortune brought me footman Tim
‘A coxcomb knave & time has soon explaind
‘The worth I shund when robin was disdaind

678

‘A Squires attendant daubd about wi lace
‘Who lookd on ploughmen as a vulgar race
‘That night like witchcraft he my eyes decievd
‘& all he sed gen ploughmen I believd
‘He calld 'em “raws” & mutterd as he star'd
‘To see them shuffle down the dance so hard
‘& then hed say & take up foolish airs
‘“Id sooner chuse a beggars life then theirs”
‘Curse such a fool he did chuse beggars pride
‘In guarding lap dogs by a ladys side
‘& nick nack jobs as follys might require
‘Which were not betterd tho he servd a squire
‘Folly may think as follys whim may please
‘Mites are but mites tho fed on stilton cheese
‘How robins memory on the past appears
‘& when it comes I cannot stop my tears
‘Past pleasures lost ones senses overwhelms
‘Ah robin robin neath these spreading elms
‘How have we loiterd sunday eves away
‘& talkd for hours & still left more to say
‘Till dewey boughs gun dropping on our heads
‘& wooping owlets warnd us to our beds
‘Ah little birds yere perchd upon the tree
‘As warm & happy as ye usd to be
‘& bats enjoy their ditty short & shill
‘& evening reels the moths are dancing still
‘The same as then each pleasing thing is seen
‘& all is blest save her that might have been
‘Had I been wise still robin here had met
‘& talkd & smild & made me happy yet

679

‘& milkd to save me as he usd to do
‘When Id on gown or apron that was new
‘Not like proud Tim a poor conscieted strutt
‘Who calld it “dunghill” & disdaind to do't
‘Be gowns or aprons new or clean or how
‘Spoilt they may be Ive none regards me now
‘Ive none to free me from my sunday toil
‘So I may milk & sunday gowns may spoil
‘On winter sundays wholl at milking meet
‘& bear my burthen down the dirty street
‘Wholl help me forward when night comes so soon
‘& homward guide me when there is no moon
‘No one will do as gentle robin did
‘Who went each sunday & was never bid
‘Who milkd my cows & took it home when done
‘& pickd the road that I the dirt might shun
‘& laid fresh stones when ere the brook was high
‘That I might step in saftey & be dry
‘& every night when toil has set him free
‘He always met me upon faireys lea
‘He knew of what was seen & judgd my fear
‘& always whistld when he heard me near
‘But lord protect all joys I did resign
‘On that sad night & all the fault is mine
‘My heart may quake when winter evenings gloom
‘Ive none to call if fearful things shoud come
‘Bad dismal nights are waiting to be mine
‘When I must lonley oer my lot repine
‘None loves me now nor favour cares to court
‘None then will milk & guide me thro the dirt
‘None stones will lay that I the floods may cross
‘Drownd I may be & few will mourn the loss
‘But surely hopes have not forsook me quite
‘If robins careless he coud love but light

680

‘For surely love has too much pity yet
‘To bear that malice which will not forget
‘& he must hear Ive turnd off footman Tim
‘& he may judge Ive some regard for him
‘I feign woud tell him what I wish woud be
‘But Im ashamd to make my self too free
‘I told his mother journeying to the mill
‘How I repented using robin ill
‘& that to guess was giving morts of room
‘The hint was plenty if he wishd to come—
‘Sure hopes are faith[f]ull for that dogs gruff bark
‘Is robins rover if I rightly hark
‘Dear what a terror of suspence Im in
‘My heart een heaves ones bosom to my chin
‘& swelld wi throbs how hopes & fears may be
‘Unpins ones 'kerchief as it would be free
‘There claps the gate—it surely must be him
‘& if it is farewell to grief & Tim
‘But rest my heart false hopes have often sinnd
‘Nor thrust agen my hankerchief unpinnd
‘Cold is the air & dripping is the bough
‘No loves embraces warms my bosom now
‘But hark the cows are running startld bye
‘They always ran when robins dog was nigh
‘The hour is cheating when the light is dim
‘But eyes & hopes assure me this is him
‘Ill say “good night” as harmless right or wrong
‘& if its robin he will know my tongue’

681

‘She stopt & sighd—then kindly calld “good night”
‘& doubted robin soon was provd the right
‘For when he heard how chances had returnd
‘His malice coold & love as keenly burnd
‘& glad she was when questiond what she meant
‘To have the chance to answer her consent
‘So all was well & nothing seemd amiss
‘Save that theyd acted other wise then this
‘& robin vowd revenge on footman Tim
‘To give him trouble as hed troubld him
‘But footman Tim coud ape deciet too well
‘To own the conquerers triumph were he fell
‘As fashions lacquey he had learnd its pride
‘& when twas humbld hed disguise to hide
‘When rob & mag ere met him in the street
‘He never shund but sooner seemd to meet
‘& always careless passd & often sung
‘& leerd as happy tho his pride was stung

682

WINTER (a)

From huddling nights embrace how chill
The winters waking days begin
Dull reddening oer the easts blea hill
& creeping sad & shyly in
Now gilds the sun each bare tree top
& pale peeps thro each window light
While from the eaves the 'icles drop
That eke afresh their tails at night

The snow & rhyme lodge every where
Each cot in dazzling white is drest
Nor thatch nor witherd weeds appear
Were birds their numbing feet may rest
& every twig thro wood & plain
Were summer hing her greening bough
Wild winters mockerey cloaths again
With hoary shapes & shadows now

The street is throngd with bawling boys
Who pat their reddend fingers warm
& eager after dithering joys
Unheeding brave each pelting storm
To roll their jiant forms of snow
Or slide—or seeking rude repast
Hirpling by hedges were the slow
Hangs mellowd by the biting blast

683

Past noons thawd snow along the street
Stiffend to ice now night has been
Oft baulks the maidens stepping feet
Who falls & blushes to be seen
While amourous feelings inly warms
Some passing clown who turns to steal
A glimpse of modestys alarms
Which such like accidents reveal

In winters surley depth how sweet
To meet those comforts we desire
Possesing some snug corner seat
Were blazes nigh the welcome fire
Warming ones toes upon the hearth
& reading poems not too long
While basks the cat in purring mirth
While crickets sing their winter song

& winters tiresome hours to cheat
Have means to visit now & then
Were neighbours oer their tankard meet
& there the corner share agen
Each confort suiting best to chuse
To sit & crump warm penny rolls
Or take short snatches oer the news
While warms the nappy on the coals

& when suns creep the[i]r warmest height
& north winds wisper nearly still
When greening patches meet the sight
On southward slant of bank or hill

684

& berrys freed from rhyme awhile
Shines red on hedgrow twigs again
One may a midday hour beguile
To walk in shielding wood & plain

To track some woodlands gentle ride
Where hanging branches lend a screen
Or banks slopd down on either side
Were sheltering vallys creep between
As down such hollows one proceeds
We instant feel a warmer day
While mong each bank tops rustling weeds
Winds noise their unfelt rage away

Each twig when touchd tho hardly stird
Its white shower litters to the ground
& from the shake of startld bird
The ryhme like powder puthers round
& as one fails those tracks to meet
By shepherds made & foddering boys
The snow shrinks from our hastning feet
Harsh crumping with incessant noise

Now view the prospect were we will
On woods above or vales below
Or nigh or distant winter still
Stretches his dazzling scene of snow
The very spire points catch the eye
As changd with winters frowning pride
& were a sunbeam cannot lye
Shine whitend on their northern side

685

The arch of light around us bowd
Stretches for days its cloudless skye
Save freckling shadows of a cloud
That loose to nothing passing bye
Tho clouds oft darken closing day
& round the north disorderd lye
Like rocks with bases torn away
On nothing hung 'tween earth & skye

Nature that pauses nearly dumb
But startles some complaint to make
Not like the buried busy hum
Which banishd summer kept awake—
Were sheep their bleating wants reveal
& hollow noise of bawling cow
That wait the fodderers stinted meal
Is all ones walks can listen now

Save when some clown with beatle breaks
The ponds thick ice for stock to drink
Wild noises round the village wakes
From geese that gabble on the brink
Who mope & brood about the snows
When frost their plashy sport destroys
Till such scant chance relief bestows
To urge afresh their squalling joys

Oft oer one flyes the chirping lark
With rhyme hung round his chilly breast
Complaining of some dogs rude bark
That scard him from his chilly rest

686

& oft from snowbanks ridgy edge
The hare steps hirpling oer the plain
Till found a bush or bunch of sedge
Then drops its ears & squats again

& feebly whines the puddocks wail
Slow circling naked woods around
& wild geese ranks that swifter sail
Oft start one with a hoarser sound
While towering at the farthest height
The heron brawls its lonley cry
Who interscepts the dazzld light
& looks a cloud speck in the skye

The herdboys drawling noise is oer
& all the scenes his summer saw
His cows now haunt each threshers door
& pick in sullen mood the straw
The ploughmans song is vanishd now
& quawking rooks & chattering pyes
Are silent all—each idle plough
Froze in the snow hid furrow lyes

Made bold by want in many a flock
The ringdoves flye from solitude
& mingling share with friendly stock
A portion of their winter food
A meal which providence bestows
Were hardy turnip roots abound
& oft one sees upon the snows
Their little footmarks dinted round

687

Cold woods the blackbirds gladly shun
Were round their perch the 'icles freeze
& courts less shy the noonday sun
& hops about our garden trees
& little birds with hunger tame
To cottage yards undaunted go
Were pity warms some gentle dame
To scatter crumbles round the snow

Yet all save robins will retreat
& shun rude mans forbidding sight
Who seemly welcomes trampling feet
& ruffs its feathers in delight
Brisk hopping from its shielding thorn
As one who woud our steps detain
Then droops its wing & sits forlorn
When left to solitude again

In blackening droves the rook & crow
Flap the cold air with heavy wings
To seek what home will not bestow
As soon as morn the summons brings
Full many a weary mile they flye
To try what stranger fields will spare
Till eve returns her freezing sky
Then wearied to their homes repair

688

Tho dolld about reservd & shy
As one who hates to please us—still
Beautys will often catch the eye
From snow surrounding wood & hill
Those drops which nights chill finger hings
Froze on the point of every thorn
Are trifles kin to lovley things
When gilt by slanting beams of morn

& were in midway ripples still
The brook toils on its hasty tides
& slides the touch of winter chill
Save on its calmer sleeping sides
There frost his quiet toil resumd
Shoots streaking spars that wildly run
From weed to weed & shine illumnd
Like glittering stars before the sun

Were as one steps its oaken plank
The hollow frozen sounding noise
From flags & sedge beside the bank
The wild ducks brooding peace destroys
& snipes with long mishapen bill
Oft startles from intruding fears
Who haunt the brooks in winter chill
& vanish as the spring appears

The ivey greens in brightness now
& round the tree its beauty weaves
With chocolate berrys on its bough
& shoots of paler veined leaves

689

& beech trees tho their bloom is flown
Still fragments of the autumn wear
Muffld in leaves of rustling brown
Coy beautys wildness lingers there

& milking hovels passing bye
In some close nook were shelter dwells
& cows at quiet musing lye
Whose breath steams up in savourey smells
One often meets the healthy lass
As fair & fresh as summer flowers
Which leaves a pleasure as we pass
That gladdens winters lonley hours

& when a sudden thaw comes on
& floods like autumn roll & noise
When hills of snow are sunk & gone
Then winter has her added joys
Banks were the north wind never comes
Then greens as with the hopes of spring
& birds fly round their changing homes
Chirping as tho they tryd to sing

Woodpecker too whose glossy wings
Seem leaves upon each witherd oak
Were lurd by suns it often clings
& taps for hours its gentle stroak

690

& ravens croaking on the wing
& crows will clamours dittys raise
All busied with the hopes of spring
When thaws mock winters warmest days

The stock now huddld side to side
From winters nipping rage to brood
Will then disperse & wander wide
Nor wait the fodderers call to food
Yon sullen steed that hangs his head
Will prick his ears in pleasure then
& by the pastures promise fed
Will plunge in frolic joys agen

The swain then whistles to his sheep
Nor plods his dog behind his heels
As he was wont from winds to creep
But runs at random oer the fields
Chasing the startld hare by guess
Then stops & barks his master on
& in his antic joys excess
Forgets his puppy days are gone

Each bank smiles in the sunny hours
As sweet as those the spring provides
Save that they want the daisey flowers
& white lambs basking by their sides
Mays mildness mocks the gladdend sky
& clouds as swiftly clouds pursue
Save that no swallow cares to flye
Nor cuckoo sings the story true

691

Thus some few days may idly dwell
& hold the tempting season still
& tempt the early buds to swell
For lurking winters blast to kill
& many a flower on sunny slopes
That startles up the spring to see
Is doomd to loose their early hopes
& perish in their infancy

& oft one views the hairy leaves
Of woodbines in the shelterd plain
Sprouting when winters thaw decieves
To perish when he frowns again
& pity often mourns to meet
A daisey smiling to the sun
Unconsious of the tempting cheat
That fancys gentle spring begun

But short is natures waking hopes
A frowning cloud may cross the skyes
When sun & warmth & all elopes
& shriveld leaf & daisey dyes
As cuckoos songs in summer cease
As swallows from the autumn flew
So flyes in mistery winters peace
& storms steal on to frown anew

& give me then as now at eve
The chimney corners idle joys
As days cold scenes my rambles leave
To list the kettles simmering noise
& while the chimney mocks the blast
& windows quake with jarring din
Let doors & shutters tightend fast
Keep cold night out & comfort in

692

WINTER (b)

From huddling nights embrace how chill
The winter waking days begin
Dull reddening oer the easts blea hill
& creeping sad & shyly in
Now gilds the sun each bare tree top
& pale peeps thro each window light
While from the eaves the icles drop
That eke afresh their tales at night

The street is throngd with bawling boys
Who pat their reddend fingers warm
& eager of their dithering joys
Unheeding brave each pelting storm
To roll their jiant forms of snow
Or slide or seeking rude repast
Hirp[l]ing by hedges were the slow
Hangs mellowd by the biting blast

693

The noons thawd snow that stiffens soon to ice
Makes glib each path the swaley street between
Were stepping maidens tho with caution nice
Oft meets a fall & reddens to be seen
While bustling clowns stop short their shacking pace
Harmonious looks on modestys alarm
& wrinkling smiles will print the pluffy face
If glimpse is had of some forbidden charm

From frequent storms & ryhmes that nightly seere
On every thing each cot in white is drest
Nor patch of thatch nor witherd weeds appear
Were little birds their numbing feet may rest
& every twig were summers glory grew
Grim winter mocks with shadows vainly proud
& field & forest leaves the dazzld view
One blea cold picture neath her stretching shroud

694

Doll'd round our paths in scant unwilling ways
As one who hates to please or to be pleasd
Winter has beautys well deserving praise
Tho with the ague of its frowns diseasd
Those icey drops which nights chill fingures mould
At each thorn point—as if by magic done
Changes to spangles bright as fancyd gold
Now morn illumnes them with its slanting sun

The green woodpecker now resumes his joys
Perching a sunnyside decaying oaks
Uttering its harsh but not unpleasant noise
& wakes small echos with its tapping stroaks
While the hoarse raven croaking as she flyes
& rooks & daws that clamorous dittys bring
& sailing puddock with its shiller cries
All please ones wanderings as the voice of spring

Again the shepherd whistles to his sheep
Nor more the dog plods hirpling at his heels
As he was wont from winter winds to creep
But pants in random races oer the field
Chasing the crows or startld hares by guess
Then hurrying back to bark his master on
& in the antics of his joys excess
Almost forgets his puppy days are gone

695

Yet when the sun is at its warmest height
& bares the shining berries on the hedge
Tis well to wander were the winds despight
Expends its fury mid the witherd sedge
That crowns some sloping bank the lane along
Were springs first green & snows the soonest melt
Whose rustling leaves increase the winds wild song
Still threatning tumults that is calmy felt

Dumb is the voice of nature save the sounds
Of sad complaining cattle here & there
Lorn cows & sheep that track the snowy grounds
& look in vain for grass & utter wild despair
& now & then the lorn unroosted lark
Will chirp its note of sadness & complain
Of scaring steps & dogs alarming bark
As little hoping were to rest again

& as the swain with ponderous beetle breaks
Yon ponds thick ice for waiting stock to drink
A wild confusion momentary wakes
From gabbling geese that loiter on the brink
Long lockd from water by the winter grim
They mope & linger round their haunts in vain
Till such scant chances gives them leave to swim
& there they clamour till its froze again

Now as one fails the beaten track to meet
Of milking maids & early foddering boys
The snow harsh presses neath ones hastning feet
Crumping & crumping with incessant noise
& brushing branches bye till then unstird
A powdery shower keeps constant pothering round
& een from movments of a startld bird
The trees white cloathing shivers to the ground

696

Yon stretch of clouds grim hung tween earth & heaven
Like tottering rocks whose base is swept away
Wait the winds signal for the tempest given
& spread afar their darkness & dismay
In massy movments near & nearer yet
They wreath them onward in convulsive gloom
Silent as armys for the battle met
Ere breaks that pause that brings the dangers home

The arch of space above & round us bowd
Stretches for days his bright unclouded skye
Save odd thin streaks mere shadows of a cloud
That loose to nothing as they pass the eye
& save as round the north in grim delay
The verging threatnings of a storm is given
Clouds like huge rocks with bases torn away
Tottering on nothing tween earth & heaven

698

THE PARISH

‘No injury can possibly be done, as a nameless character can never be found out but by its truth & likeness’ Pope

The Parish hind oppressions humble slave
Whose only hopes of freedom is the grave
The cant miscalled religion in the saint
& Justice mockd while listning wants complaint
The parish laws & parish queens & kings
Prides lowest classes of pretending things
The meanest dregs of tyrany & crime
I fearless sing let truth attend the ryhme
Tho now adays truth grows a vile offence
& courage tells it at his own expence

699

If he but utter what himself has seen
He deals in satire & he wounds too keen
Intends sly ruin by encroached degrees
Is rogue or radical or what you please
But shoud vile flatterers with the basest lies
Attempt self interest with a wished disguise
Say groves of myrtle here in winter grow
& blasts blow blessings every time they blow
That golden showers in mercey fall to bless
The half thatchd mouldering hovels of distress
That edens self in freedoms infant sphere
Was but a desert to our Eden here
That laws so wise to choke the seeds of strife
Here bless a beggar with an Adams Life
Ah what an host of Patronizers then
Woud gather round the motley flatterers den
A spotted monster in a lambkins hide
Whose smooth tongue uttered what his heart denied
Theyd call his genius wonderous in extream
& lisp the novel beautys of his theme
& say twas luck on natures kinder part
To bless such genius with a gentle heart
Curst affectation worse then hell I hate
Thy sheepish features & thy crouching gait

700

Like sneeking cur that licks his masters shoe
Bowing & cringing to the Lord knows who
Licking the dust for each approving nod
Where pride is worshiped like an earthly god
The rogue thats carted to the gallows tree
Is far more honest in his trade then thee
Thy puling whine that suits thy means so well
Piteous as chickens breaking thro its shell
That rarely fails to ope the closest purse
Is far more rougish then the others force
I dread no cavils for the clearest sink
When ere the bottoms stirred is pure to stink
So let them rail I envye not their praise
Nor fear the slander stung deciet may raise
Let those who merit what the verse declares
Choose to be vexd & think the picture theirs
On Lifes rude sea my bark is launched afar
& they may wish the wreck who dread the war
Then waves in storms their spite is nothing more
That lash rage weary on a heedless shore
A public names the shuttle cock of fame
Now up then down as fashion wills the game
At whom each fool may cast his private lie
Nor fears the scourge of satires just reply
While those who rail may do what deeds they list
They hide in ignorance & are never missed
Their scorn is envys imp conscieved by hate
That tortures worth in every grade & state

701

As mists to day as shadows to the sun
These stains in merits welfare ever run
Diseases that infect not but at last
Die of their own distempers & are past
Such friends I count not & such foes disdain
Their best or worst is neither loss nor gain
Friendship like theirs is but the names disgrace
A mask that counterfiets its open face
Cant & hypocricy disguise their ways
Their praise turns satire & their satire praise
Good men are ever from such charges free
To prove them friends is praise enough for me

Satire should not wax civil oer its toil
Tho sweet self interest blossoms on the soil
Nor like a barking dog betray its trust
By silence when the robber throws his crust
Till fear & mercey all its wrath divides
To feeble portraits buttered on both sides
Ill strive to do what flattery bids me shun
Tell truth nor shrink for benefits to none
Follys a fool that cannot keep its ground
Still fearing foes & shewing were to wound
A jealous look will almost turn her sick
& hints not meant oft gauls her to the quick

702

& hide or shuffle or do what she will
Each mask like glass reflects the picture still
As powder kindles from the smallest spark
Confusion buzzes & betrays the mark
From such frail scources every fact is drawn
Not sought thro malice or exposed in scorn
But told as truths that common sense may see
How cants pretentions & her works agree
I coud not pass her low deceptions bye
Nor can I flatter & I will not lye
So satires Muse shall like a blood hound trace
Each smoothfacd tyrant to his hiding place
Whose hidden actions like the foxes skin
Scents the sly track to were they harbour in
& each profession of this Parish troop
Shall have a rally ere the hunt be up
To none that rules I owe nor spite nor grudge
How just the satire he who reads may judge

That good old fame the farmers earnd of yore
That made as equals not as slaves the poor
That good old fame did in two sparks expire
A shooting coxcomb & a hunting Squire
& their old mansions that was dignified
With things far better then the pomp of pride
At whose oak table that was plainly spread
Each guest was welcomd & the poor was fed
Were master son & serving man & clown
Without distinction daily sat them down
Were the bright rows of pewter by the wall
Se[r]ved all the pomp of kitchen or of hall
These all have vanished like a dream of good
& the slim things that rises were they stood
Are built by those whose clownish taste aspires
To hate their farms & ape the country squires

703

The old oak table soon betook to flight
A thing disgusting to my ladys sight
Yet affectations of a tender claim
To the past memory of its owners name
Whose wealth prides only beauty stood her friend
& bought a husband that same wealth to spend
Laid it aside in lumber rooms to rot
Till all past claims of tenderness forgot
Bade it its honourable name resign
Transformed to stable doors or troughs for swine
Each aged labourer knows its history well
& sighs in sorrow like sad change to tell
The pewter rows are all exchanged for plate
& that choice patch of pride to mark them great
Of red or blue gay as an harlequin
The livried footman serves the dinner in
As like the squire as pride can imitate
Save that no porter watches at the gate
& even his Lordship thought so grand before
Is but distinguished in his coach & four
Such are the upstarts that usurp the name
Of the old farmers dignity & fame
& weres that lovley maid in days gone bye
The farmers daughter unreserved tho shye
That milked her cows & old songs used to sing
As red & rosey as the lovely spring
Ah these have dwindled to a formal shade
As pale & bed rid as my ladys maid

704

Who cannot dare to venture in the street
Some times thro cold at other times for heat
& vulgar eyes to shun & vulgar winds
Shrouded in veils green as their window blinds
These taught at school their stations to despise
& view old customs with disdainful eyes
Deem all as rude their kindred did of yore
& scorn to toil or foul their fingers more
Prim as the pasteboard figures which they cut
At school & tastful on the chimney put
They sit before their glasses hour by hour
Or paint unnatural daubs of fruit or flower
Or boasting learning novels beautys quotes
Or aping fashions scream a tune by notes
Een poetry in these high polished days
Is oft profained by their dislike or praise
Theyve read the Speaker till without a look
Theyll sing whole pages & lay bye the book
Then sure their judgment must be good indeed
When ere they chuse to speak of what they read
To simper tastful some devoted line
As somthing bad or somthing very fine

705

Thus mincing fine airs misconcieved at school
That pride outherods & compleats the fool
Thus housed mid cocks & hens in idle state
Aping at fashions which their betters hate
Affecting high lifes airs to scorn the past
Trying to be somthing makes them nought at last
These are the shadows that supply the place
Of farmers daughters of the vanished race
& what are these rude names will do them harm
O rather call them ‘Ladys of the Farm’

Miss Peevish Scornful once the Village toast
Deemd fair by some & prettyish by most
Brought up a lady tho her fathers gain
Depended still on cattle & on grain
She followd shifting fashions & aspired
To the high notions baffled pride desired
& all the profits pigs & poultry made
Were gave to Miss for dressing & parade
To visit balls & plays fresh hopes to trace
& try her fortune with a simpering face
& now & then in Londons crowds was shown
To know the world & to the world be known

706

All leisure hours while miss at home sojournd
Past in preparing till new routs returnd
Or tittle tattling oer her shrewd remarks
Of ladys dresses or attentive sparks
How Mr So & so at such a rout
Fixd his eyes on her all the night about
While the good lady seated by his side
Behind her hand her blushes forced to hide
Till consious Miss in pity she woud say
For the poor lady turnd her face away
& young Squire Dandy just returnd from france
How he first chose her from the rest to dance
& at the play how such a gent resignd
His seat to her & placed himself behind
How this squire bowd polite at her approach
& Lords een nodded as she passd their coach
Thus miss in raptures woud such things recall
& Pa & Ma in raptures heard it all
But when an equal woud his praise declare
& told young madam that her face was fair
She might believe the fellows truth the while
& just in sport might condescend to smile
But frownd his further teazing suit to shun
& deemd it rudeness in a farmers son
Thus she went on & visited & drest
& deemd things earnest that was spoke in jest

707

& dreamd at night oer prides uncheckd desires
Of nodding gentlemen & smiling squires
To Gretna green her visions often fled
& rattling coaches lumberd in her head
Till hopes grown weary with too long delay
Caught the green sickness & declined away
& beauty like a garment worse for wear
Fled her pale cheek & left it much too fair
Then she gave up sick visits balls & plays
Were whispers turnd to any thing but praise
All were thrown bye like an old fashiond song
Were she had playd show woman much too long
& condecended to be kind & plain
& 'mong her equals hoped to find a swain
Past follys now were hatful to review
& they were hated by her equals too
Notice from equals vain she tryd to court
Or if they noticed twas but just in sport
At last grown husband mad away she ran
Not with squire Dandy but the servant man

Young farmer Bigg of this same flimsey class
Wise among fools & with the wise an ass
A farming sprout with more then farmers pride
Struts like the squire & dresses dignified

708

They call him rich at which his weakness aimd
But others view him as a fool misnamed
Yet dress & tattle ladys hearts can charm
& hes the choice with madams of the farm
Now with that lady strutting now with this
Braced up in stays as slim as sickly miss
Shining at christmass rout & vulgar ball
The favourite spark & rival of them all
& oft hell venture to bemean his pride
Tho bribes & mysterys do their best to hide
Teazing weak maidens with his pert deciet
Whose lives are humble but whose looks are sweet
Whose beauty happen to outrival those
With whom the dandy as an equal goes
Thus maids are ruind oft & mothers made
As if bewitchd without a fathers aid
Tho nodds & winks & whispers urge a guess
Weakness is bribed & hides its hearts distress
To live dishonourd & to dye unwed
For clowns grow jealous when theyre once misled
Thus pointed fingers brand the passing spark
& whispers often guess his deeds are dark
But friends deny & urge that doubts mislead
& prove the youth above so mean a deed
The town agrees & leaves his ways at will
A proud consieted meddling fellow still

Nature in various moods pursues her plan
& moulds by turns the monkey or the man

709

With one she deals out wisdom as a curse
To follow fortune with an empty purse
The next in opposite extreams is bred
Oerflowing pockets & an empty head
Beggars in merit share a squires estate
& squires untitled meet a beggars fate
Fortunes great lottery owns nor rules nor laws
Fate holds her wealth & reason rarely draws
Blanks are her lot & merit vainly tryes
While heedless folly blunders on the prize

Young Headlong Racket to the last akin
Who only deals more openly in sin
& apes forged love with less mysterious guile
A high flown dandy in its lowest stile
By fashion hated with the vulgar gay
& deems it wit to tempt their steps astray
No maid can pass him but his learing eye
Attempts to prove her forward or too shy
He brags oer wine of loves his wits has won
& loves betrayed—& deems it precious fun
Horses & dogs & women oer his wine
Is all his talk & he believes it fine
For virtue now is such a trifling name
That vice can prey ont unexposed to blame

710

& fools may join him but to common sense
His head pleads empty & has no pretence
He courts his maids & shuns the better sort
& hunts & courses as a change of sport
& hates all poachers game destroying brutes
Altho with both the name as aptly suits
With this one difference darkness brings their prey
& he more brazen murders his by day
& thus he lives a hated sort of life
Loves wedded wantons while he scorns a wife
Prepares by turns to hunt & wh---e & shoot
Less then a man & little more then brute

Next on the parish list in paltry fame
Shines Dandy Flint Esqr whose dirty name
Has grown into a proverb for bad deeds
& he who reads it all thats filthy reads
Near did a single sentence more express
Of down right evil or of goodness less
Than Dandy Flint grown old in youthful shame
By loathed diseases which no words may name

711

& worn so spare that wit as passing bye
Swears Nick will thread him thro a bodkins eye
A sot who spouts short morals oer his gin
& when most drunk rails most against the sin
A dirty hog that on the puddles brink
Stirs up the mud & quarrels with the stink
Abusing others in his cants deciet
To come off victor when the rest are beat
His mask is but of lawn & every space
Lets in new light to show cants crimping face
He apes the lamb & is a wolf in grain
& guilty darkness dares the light in vain
Thus fools by making others failings known
Become the self accusers of their own
So Dandy Flint may rail it nothing weighs
Sense takes the slander of a fool for praise

These are the things that oer inferiors flirt
That spring from pride like summer flyes from dirt
& teaze & buzz their summer season bye
Bantering the poor & struggling to be high
& shall such knaves 'neath flatterys garment hide
Or fear damp truth to turn its glass aside
The plea is urgd not but to common sense
Reason & truth will stand its own defence
Whilst dark hypocrisy affects the cheat
The real bitter mocks a seeming sweet

712

But who so dealeth openly in shame
Must bear being noticed by his proper name
As he who thrusts his phiz in every glass
Meets a reflection be it man or ass
& can they thus who love themselves to view
Chuse to be vexd to find the picture true
Be as it will none but the base are bit
& satire shows them as they chuse to sit
Which if disliked they may improve with ease
& make the likeness [better] if they please
& satire stingless—follys & defects
While yet defective still its glass reflects
But when they cease to be as heretofore
It suits with others & is theirs no more

Some of the old school yet my verse coud tell
& one from boyhood I remember well
Who near aspired on follys wings to soar
A plain mean man scarce noticed from the poor
Who near expected as he walkd the street
Bows from inferiors whom he chancd to meet
Inferiors bred from fashions idle whim
Equals & neighbours all appeard to him
& tho wealth scornd in such low walks to go
& pride disdaind & called his manners low
He sought nor paid prides homage unto man
But lived unshining in his humble plan
& when his rights tyrannic power assaild
His courage triumphd tho his pocket failed
For he was doomd to feel that worldly curse
An upright spirit & an empty purse

713

Nor did he try the shamless fault to cure
Still keeping honest & remaining poor
But he has left & one of different race
Spoilt his old mansion & supplied his place
Nor left he there in seeking were to dwell
One heart save prides but inly wishd him well
Thus fortune oft dishousd by blinded guess
Bids honour starve & knavery meet success
Smiles on the wickeds ways their hopes to glad
& sinks the good man to maintain the bad

Proud Farmer Cheetum turnd a rogue by stealth
Whom prosperous times had ripend into wealth
Hunting & shooting had its ceasless charm
When his full purse cared little for a farm
A trusty hand was left to plough & plan
The double trade of master & of man
He kept his stud for hunts & races then
& dogs fed even better then his men
Bought loves & changed them when the freak was old
& drank his wine without a wife to scold
& gaind a dashing name & livd in style
& wore a mask to profit byt the while
For he who dares to do a deed of shame
Feels none & only knows it by the name
& made large credit while his name was good
For all woud trust him draw on whom he woud
A man so stylish none coud dream to doubt
Till changing times the secret brought about

714

The grains sunk price oer knaverys tricks was thrown
& others failings well excused his own
The times he said & frownd disturbd & sad
Needed no comment to explain them bad
So ere he broke he honestly confest
His wealth all gone & credit had the rest
& proved to all a smuggling rogue too late
Cheat creditors—turnd bankrupt—& still great
Hunt shoots & rackets as he did before
& still finds wealth for horses dogs & whore
& dogs & wh--- & horses in his train
Are all that have no reason to complain
These show his kindness in their varied ways
& gild his rotting name with dirty praise
Like as when brooks are dry the village sinks
Boast their full dingy tide that flows & stinks
That seems to boast when other streams are dry
‘Neath summer suns how brave a dyke am I’

Old Saveall next whose dirty deeds & fame
Might put a young bards silken lines to shame
But my plain homespun verse lets none escape
Nor passes folly in its rudest shape
When satires muse puts on a russet gown
Tho vermin start as game she runs them down
So Saveall shall have place whom fortunes smiles
Unmixed with frowns hath made him known for miles
Famous for riches & by knavery prized
& famed for meaness & by work despised
Who trys to buy a good name & decieve
With fair pretentions that but few believe

715

Who seldom swears & that but now & then
A smuggled oath when vexd by better men
That beard hypocrisy with honest grace
& tears the mask from cants decieving face
Yet in religion he is made elect
& buys with wine the favours of the sect
Making each spouter welcome when he comes
& turning beggars from their fallen crumbs
Pleading up charity in whining tones
& driving dogs at dinner from the bones
The scraps which beggars plead for serve his swine
So their lorn hopes seek other doors to dine
The broken bones enrich his land for grain
So dogs beneath his table wait in vain
On neighbourly good will he often dwells
& in dry times locks up his very wells
& if twas but of worth we might suppose
Hed even save the droppings of his nose
Such is this Saveall first of fortunes fellows
Famous for wealth great farms & small beer cellars
With the elect most saintish or most civil
& with the rest a cunning knave or devil

Poor honour now yields to the stronger side
A wrinkld maid turnd stale & past her pride
Knavery & cant in triumph take her place
Unblushing strumpets with a tempting face
Religion now is little more then cant
A cloak to hide what godliness may want
As painters deaths to make the terror less
Wrap their dry bones within a cheating dress
The world is of a piece words mostly make
The little difference for distinctions sake
Vice must own bad so virtue takes the best
Coarse is the one mere cobweb is the rest
& when encroaching vice with cunning deeds
To make a hole in virtues garb succeeds

716

Tis but indeed a customary case
She darns it up as none may spy the place
& if once caught by slanders jealous eye
Tho breaches double & holes multiply
Virtue awhile turns penitent & then
Like rifled maid her title claims agen
Their prayers are read as old accustomd things
& offerd up for all souls save the kings
They love mild sermons with few threats perplexd
& deem it sinful to forget the text
Then turn to business ere they leave the church
& linger oft to comment in the porch
Of fresh rates wanted from the needy poor
& list of taxes naild upon the door
Little religion in each bosom dwells
& that sleeps sound till sundays chiming bells
When from each shelf is regularly took
The weekly wanted pious dusty book
Seeking the church an hours good prayers they read
& hear a sermon as the all they need
Then read when home the reccolected text
& lay religion by till sunday next
Some with reform religions shade pursue
& vote the old church wrong to join the new
Casting away their former cold neglects
Paying religions once a week respects

717

They turn from regular old forms as bad
To pious maniacs regular[l]y mad
A chosen race so their consciet woud teach
Whom cant inspired to rave & not to preach
A set of upstarts late from darkness sprung
With this new light like mushrooms out of dung
Tho blind as owls i'th' sun they livd before
Consiet inspired & they are blind no more
The dru[n]ken cobler leaves his wicked life
Hastes to save others & neglects his wife
To mend mens souls he thinks himself designd
& leaves his shoes to the uncalld & blind
He then like old songs runs the scriptures oer
& makes discoverys never known before
Makes darkest points as plain as A B C
& wonders why his hearers will not see
Spouts facts on facts to prove that dark is light
& all are blind till he restore their sight
& swears the old church which he cast away
As full of errors & as blind as they
& offers prayers no doubt as prayers are cheap
For chosen shepherds to his worships sheep
Thinking the while if such the will of fate
Self might become a hopeful candidate

718

& doubtless longs shoud reformation call
To leave his own & take his neighbours stall
Part urgd as scripture more as self consiet
To suit his ends each passage he repeats
& in as various ways each fact he weaves
As gossips riddles upon winter eves
Now storming threats now pleading comforts mild
In puleing whine soft as a sucking child
The[y] cant & rave damnations threats by fits
Till some old farmer looses half his wits
Looks back on former sins tho loath to doubt
Groans oer a prayer & thinks himself devout
Then learnings lookd on as an idle jest
& the old cobler preaches far the best
Who smooths with honied hopes the deep dyd sinner
& earns reward—a lodging & a dinner
Their former teachers as blind guides they mock
Nor think them chosen for the crazy flock
The crazy flock believe & are depraved
& just in time turn ideots to be saved

The Ranter priests that take the street to teach
Swears god builds churches where so ere they preach
While on the other hand protestant people
Will have no church but such as wears a steeple

719

Thus creeds all differ yet each different sect
From the free agents to the grand elect
Who cull a remnant for the promised land
That wear heavens mark as sheep their owners brand
Each thinks his own as right & others wrong
& thus keeps up confusions babel song
While half the tribes at bottom are no more
Then saints skin deep & devils at the core
Who act by customs & as custom shows
Lay bye religion with their sunday cloaths
Religions aim is truth & different creeds
By different channels for that aim proceeds
But many wander muddy by the way
& dark with errors struggle far astray
Till weary with the toil they fainter creep
& then like stagnant waters stink & sleep
Religions truth a plain straight journey makes
Which falshoods wandering never overtakes
As gold when purified flows free from dross
& leaves the worthless mixture without loss
So from black errors truths eternal morn
Mounts into light & smiles the night to scorn
Tis not religion but its want when sects
Rail each at each to hide their own defects
For calmness quiet cheerfulness & love
Its essence is to aid our hopes above
Tis vain philosophy that would decieve
The[y] heer too much to doubt or to believe
What is & was we feel—what is to be
Truth nothing knows tis guess pretends to see
Een earths least mysterys are above our skill
& would-be-gods are but her childern still

720

Wisdom still searching with her flickering flame
Lost in her mysterys dwindles to a name
Whence goeth light when evening hides the sun
& whence the darkness when the night be done
Hither it cometh—aye—& there it goes
Is the whole sum which mighty wisdom knows
So resignation should the worst befall
& faith to hope the best is best of all

Old Ralph the veriest rake the town possesd
Felt sins prick deep & all his crimes confest
Groand oer confessions to his ranting priest
& prayd & sang & felt his soul released
The new births struggles made him wonderous wan
& feebly prayd at first the baby man
Twixt doubts & fears yet viewd the cured complaint
& scarce percieved the devil from the saint
But soon the ‘outward man’ grown godly mad
Felt the good spirit triumph oer the bad
& cants dull prayers too lame to visit heaven
Lookd oer past sins & fancied all forgiven
He then whind lectures in a happier strain
& coaxd poor sinners to be born again

721

Shund old companions once beloved so well
As condemnd transports on the way to hell
& prayd & sang from sin & pain releasd
& smoothd his hair & fashiond for a priest
Old women heard him with oerjoyd delight
Some cryd & sind & others turnd out right
Theyd read the gospel studied good St Paul
But ralp[h]s good doctrine was the best of all
From him they found their old religions stuff
Was nought but like a play at ‘blind mans buff’
A pathless journey in a starless night
Till good St Ralp[h] restored the way to light
& thus as priest he exercised his wits
Forcd men to prayers & women into fits
& heard & cured each difficult complaint
& midst his flock seemd little less then saint
But hell untired with everlasting watch
(The fox grows cunning when preys hard to catch)
Crept into Ralphs new planted paradise
& met success in tempting him to vice
A simpering eve did in his garden dwell
& she was fair & he grew fond—& fell

722

Twas love at first but een when that began
The sinking saint grew more & more the man
& with his eve so treache[r]ously fair
Coud feel more joy then kneeling down to prayer
Yet still he prayd nor deemd his case so bad
As stone blind sinners tho his heart was sad
The bible still he read with saintly looks
& deemd all others as ungodly books
Unless a patch of scripture here & there
Redeemd each page & made them godly ware
Tho sinfull love had overpowerd his skill
With other sins he kept unspotted still
He drank nor swore & when a lye was told
Twas just gains trifle when he bought & sold
When bretheren met he woud his joys express
Groand while they prayd & said amen by guess
Then ‘da—& blame ye’ hed no further dare
Hell coud not urge the fallen man to sware
Till the compleation of his serpent sin
Urgd by the devil sunk him to the chin
Eve tho beguild forbidden fruit to haste
Had lovd an adam ere she loved the priest

723

& ere disgrace had ripend into light
Ralph had no power to wed her & be right
His fate was evident it came at last
His sheep was judge & shepherd ralph was cast
Then drink & rackett joind their former friends
& new born saint in the old sinner ends

Next comes a name who spite of all controuls
Reigns oer the bodys ills as Ralph the souls
A mighty doctor—what so thickly sown
That een the Parish can a doctor own
Yes own one too whose power so splendid shines
As een to name illuminates my lines
For every mouth is puckered with his skill
So sing his patients & so say his bill
The worst disease he does so quick subdue
That makes some think the devil helps him through
But what care they who helps—if pain endured
So long before he rose can now be cured
By reading in their water all their ails
& conjuring medicines up that never fails
Thus all the country join his fame to raise
& few but Dr Urine gets the praise
So now for skill the parish rules the roast
Renowned for Quacks that Citys cannot boast
—Ah where in City or in Town can dwell
Famed Dr Urine thy rare parrarell
No where indeed to match at once with thee
Thy mighty fame & humble pedigree
But can that taint the Laurel on thy brows
'Cause thou wert wont to docter Swine & cows
& rose to fame as fame was took by force
From giving judgment on a cholicked horse
To read the water of poor sickly clowns
& ease them not of illness but their crowns

724

Tho every ill swims on thy majic glass
& at thy conjuring bidding rise & pass
Like Mackbeths murdered spirits grimly on
& thou thy powers scheme cures for every one
Een from the boasting of thy self—& thine
Thy duped deciples—such thy fame doth shine
As if the dead were not beyond thy skill
But might be quickened from thy power & pill—
The poor old woman now half blind & lame
With age—has room to curse thy greedy fame
For she herself had fame ere thou hadst thine
& did as doctress of the Village shine
Tho one rare salve was cure for every sore
That Salve & that famed Doctress' race is oer
Say Dr Urine why—(& dont deride
My gossiping enquirey) shouldst thou hide
In such poor paltry Parish this renown
As seems well worthy of the finest town
Nay rather City for Im sure thy name
& Waterbottles might extend thy fame
To every patient that had death to fear
Then say good Docter why so linger here
Thourt no great ‘schollard’ that the learned tell
& all that buy thy drugs might know as well
But it so turns & lucky for thy pelf
Thy patients are less ‘schollards’ then thyself
—But what of learning words mispelt is small
Drawbacks on knowledge that gives cures for all
Distempers & diseases as he wills
& almost cures a broken limb with pills

725

The learned faculty are tools to thee
& from thy powers like thy complaints will flee
Then why thus linger in the worst of towns
To cure & hear the praise of foolish Clowns
But fools perhaps may be thy only game
To feed thy pockets & encrease thy fame
If so think not in greater towns to shine
Where skill would bid thy juggling tricks decline
& bright eyed reason send thee hasty back
Proving thee what thou really art a quack
So Dr Urine in thy nest remain
& till the dull dark age of fools be past
As conjuror & Water Doctor reign
Then drop into thy grave—a Quack at last

In politics & politicians lies
The modern farmer waxes wonderous wise
Opinionates with wisdom all compact
& een coud tell a nation how to act
Throws light on darkness with excessive skill
Knows who acts well & whos designs are ill
Proves half the members nought but briberys tools
& calls the past a dull dark age of fools
As wise as solomons they read the news
Not with their blind forefathers simple views
Who read of wars & wishd that wars woud cease
& blessd the king & wishd his country peace

726

Who markd the weight of each fat sheep & ox
The price of grain & rise & fall of stocks
Who thought it learning how to buy & sell
& he a wise man who coud manage well
No not with such old fashiond idle views
Do these news mongers trafic with the news
They read of politics & not of grain
& speechify & comment & explain
& know so much of parliment & state
Youd think them members when you heard them prate
& know so little of their farms the while
That can but urge a wiser man to smile

Young Brag a ‘jack of all trades’ save his own
From home is little as the farmer known
He talks with all the equal & the high
Equally ready to tell truth or lie
His betters view him in his just deserts
But equals deem him one of mighty parts
Opinions gratis gives in mens affairs
Fool in his own but wonderous wise in theirs
Upon his talents friends were strongly bent
Mistook his parts & off to school he went
A young aspiring hopeful youth at least
Whose parents deemd him fashiond for a priest
Twas somthing urgd the dissapointed view
With which religion had the least to do

727

Tho they baskd blessd in fortunes wealthy sun
They yearnd for more to bless their hopeful son
Whom school & colledge both had vainly taught
& learnd young hopeful to be fit for naught
His friends decievd beheld the faded charm
Resignd weak hopes & placed him in a farm
& there he lives & to great skill pretends
& reigns a god among his farming friends
Scrats paragraphs & sends them to the News
Signd ‘constant reader’ lest they shoud refuse
The illspelt trash on patriotic cavils
Leaving correction to the printers devils
Skits upon those by whom theyre never read
Who might as well write Letters to the dead
Or puffs upon himself in various ways
Whom none but self will either read or praise
& Poems too the polishd patriot chimes
Stanzas to Cobbets truth & Comic Ryhmes
To which he fits a hacknied tune that draws
From patriot dinners echoes of applause
& in the next weeks news out comes the treat
From ‘constant reader’ of the drunken feat
Were so much wine is lavishd in the strain
As even to make the reader drunk again
Were every dish on which the knaves regale
Find places there but common sense & ale
For common sense is grown too tame to teach
& ales too low to aid a patriots speech
& morts of speeches made to back reform
That raised applauses like a thunder storm
& almost loosd the rafters from their pegs
While chairs & tables scarce coud keep their legs
Reeling amid the hiccups & hurra's
& glass[es] rung & almost dancd applause

728

Nor will he pass his comic singing oer
For they too set the table in a roar
& then concludes it with the pompous clause
—Success to patriots & the good old cause
A hacknied tune which patriots daily sing
Like variations of ‘God save the King’
But when election mobs for battle meet
& dirty flags & ribbons throng the street
Hunting for votes some little borough town
Tis there his genius meets the most renown
When on the hustings bawling spouters throng
Who fight & war like women with the tongue
All speakers & no hearers were the crys
Piles up confusions babel to the skys
& croaking at the top in proud renown
Each party sits till tother pulls him down
Here shines our orator in all his plumes
Nor prouder bantum to a dung hill comes
Then he to crow & peck & peck & crow
& hurl bad english at retorting foe
No hungry magpie round a rotten sheep
A longer song of nonsence up can keep
Were small words all their utmost powers engage
& monnysyllables swell mad with rage
Who martyrs like to freedoms noble cause
Are choaked by scores in hiccups & hurras
The rest awhile in thick disorder flye
& from his mouth like crackers bounce & dye
‘I said’—‘says I’ &—then—‘he said’—‘says he’
Are the chain balls of his attillery
That storm & threaten at the deadly breach
& link the weapons of his broken speech

729

The head & tail piece setting off & close
That throws each sentence at his sneering foes
& when his monny syllables have spent
Their rage & given his utmost fury vent
& wore the cant thread bare that serves the throng
Like summers cuckoo tune for every song
Of ‘Rotten boroughs—‘bribery’—‘tyrants’—‘slaves’
Were selfs a patriot & opposers knaves
To fill the void his lack of words will cause
He bawls out freedom & expects applause
Then bows his head in oratorial grace
& exit makes to give new speakers place
So have I seen the schoolboy in his sport
(When playing soldiers) honours praise to court
Spout to his fancied army on parade
Bawling of valour ere the assault was made
Then drew his ‘wooden sword’ & led the way
To storm their castles & commence the fray
Pointing their pellets at unconsious foes
At bantum cocks that on the dung hill crows
When pop each gun went to commence the quarrel
Nor scared the flye that settled on the barrel
He ryhmes election squibs & meet[s] applause
From party critics that support his cause
His fustian wit trots wild on broken feet
Jostling the readers patience from his seat
Half prose half verse they stagger as they go
& after fashions follys dribbling flow

730

One line starts smooth & then for room perplext
Elbow along & knock against the next
& half its neighbour then a stop marks time
To close the sense—what follows is for ryhme
Pert forwardness & insolent consiet
In bard & patrons close as circles meet
All that is bad from one to tother jumps
Both play at cards & turn up knaves as trumps
& his bad wares in credits way to push
He boasts theres nought to make the modest blush
Tho common sense he neither fears or heeds
Who finds a cause to blush at all she reads
To see its name with fools as partners shown
& cursed with trash which dullness shrinks to own
Yet in the columns of the weekly News
They shine as laureat odes to ‘Pinks’ or ‘Blues’
Where humbug patron of cants tinsel gauds
Reads & with Fudge so sanctions & applauds
One blows the bubble up with puffing sides
& tother marks till stiff necked how it rides
Bawling aloud till hoarse ‘look here now there’
Till mobs throng round to wonder & to stare
Then flattery puffs a critique in their cause
& gain throngs in with interest & applause
So boys with their tobacco pipes & suds
Play while one bubble after tother scuds
Look there a fine one goes & there another
How bubble two beats bubble one his brother

731

Then blows again with cheeks distended wide
Till like the frog he almost bursts with pride
Then out goes bubble three & instant out
From gaping mouths come the applauding shout
That makes his pride & happiness redouble
& soap baloons flye up in many a bubble
Humbug still hailing with excess of joy
Who condescends to feed both men & boy
With this small difference the boys sports are stinted
Tho humbug praises theres no puff to print it
He games & drinks & rackets up & down
A low livd mocker of high life in town
& sips his wine in fashionable pride
& thrusts in scorn the homely ale aside
His fathers riches bought such foolish airs
But wasting fortunes een must need repairs
As parching summer checks the runnels haste
The greatest wealth will lessen spent in waste
Tho credit proves him poor his stubborn pride
Oer acts his purse & struggles dignified
Yet stung with tidings that his consience vents
He rails at tythes & hopes for falling rents
Curses all taxes as tyrannic things
& hates the pride of government & kings
Forgetting self tho on the brink to fall
A shade of mightier consequence then all
Turnd radical in spirit & in purse
He prays reform & deems the laws a curse

732

Speaks treasonous things before his friends & cousins
& toasts reforming patriots by dozens
& aping wit with ignorant delight
A village politician turns out right
Burdett & Brougham his Bibles place supplys
& these he reads & studys & applys
But choaks their wit to pass his narrow brains
& steals the stingless carcass for his pains
Like to the Daw dressed in the Peacocks coat
He gives proud utterance to each stolen note
While laughter roars he seems on clouds to walk
For laughter is the chorus of small talk
Election hums & Placards on the throne
He mars the joke & makes the rest his own
Runs reason mad in his unreasoning matters
& twists & tears poor common sense to tatters
Yet while he mimics second hand & storms
& mocks each echo hooting for reforms
& rants with oratorial pause & start
Each stale grown speech of patriots oer by heart
He meets applause in every spouting fit
By those who take impertine[n]ce for wit
Friends gape & wonder while they hear him preach
& swear it Ciceronian every speech
But others view him in wits sneard remark
A toothless puppy that can only bark

733

He hails his countrys foes his only friends
D---ms peace & prays for war that never ends
Its ruins lookd on as the way to wealth
& grace for all meals is reforms good health
& why is all this hubbub for reforms
This anxious looking for expected storms
That turns each fireside into parliments
In strong debates of taxes tithes & rents
Is aught of general good or general views
Sketchd in the pathway which reform pursues
Or is the rich mans lands or misers pelf
But grudgd in others to be claimd by self
Doubtless the reasons far more plain then good
Is far more true as such then understood
Our village politician clings no doubt
To one sole cause that moves the rest about
His general good perhaps is small akin
To self a core that smuggles in that skin
Taxes no doubt might be at peace & stand
If theyd sink claims on his conserns & land
& such forcd things as Landlords yearly claims
He hates no doubt—tho fear but inly blames
& views reform in but a selfish light
To make a level far as self is right
Turn Lords to farms or farmers change to Lords
Is the dear wish that with his heart accords
Or when all laws are ruind with the throne
Just but to make the farm he rents his own
Thus far no farther tho with reasons leave
Want pleads for times of adam & of eve

734

This must not be they toild for bread before
& some must still be rich & some be poor
To sink the many & exalt the few
Is still his creed in an extended view
Reform thus leveld to brags selfish will
Want still might toil & be contented still
With other nations mid tyranic strife
This miscalld mania[c] struggles oft to life
Fair is the mask that hides its visage first
But soon the infant to a fiend is nursd
That like a wolf howls hungerly & high
A cry for blood—& freedom apes that cry
For Freedom unrestraind forsakes her cause
& lawless pleasures are her only laws
Like as high tempests reckless whom they harm
Come headlong on their pleasures to perform
Too late the trees beneath their burthen groan
The lawless storm feels treason in that tone
& down its whole artillery lightning hail
& thunder comes the rebels to assail
Prostrate at once the groves in ruins lye
Their torn roots pleading pity from the sky
So with the tyrant whom he wills he blames
Mere treason is what ere his vengance names
& where that falls—defence—complaints—aye sighs
Are discontents & treasons in disguise
Thus laws grow lawless & the patriot dies
Dies & above his poor insulted dust
Fears made to sanction that the deed was just
Such is the case when freedom like a flood
Bursts out in mischief what was meant as good
So thy proud lilys haughty france was torn
Whose whitness dared the insulted light to scorn
& scorn did come & thou wert weak indeed
Torn down & trampled like the meanest weed

735

Thy laws a tyrants scoffing stock became
& thy white flag blushed red for very shame
When by a tyrants pompous threats unfurled
To show its former weakness to the world
Who mocking liberty where none remained
With stronger fetters former rights enchained
Heaven shield thee England in thy ancient cause
From tyrant governments & broken laws
Since freedom came & crowned thee free none dare
As yet to rouse thy Lion from its lare
Threats have assailed thee but as like the wind
They roared & into nothing rage resigned
& they may roar & bluster but in vain
So barks the Mastiff at his clanking chain
Nations in bonds can never cope with thee
For they alone are mighty who are free
& mayst thou ever be the same as now
With victorys laurels blooming on thy brow
That scource from which thy every glory springs
A land of liberty as well as kings
Thus village politics—& hopes for pelf
Live in one word & centre all in ‘self’
Thus village politicians urge repairs
& deem all governments as wrong but theirs
Cants juggling wisdom spurning reasons rules
The reasoning jargon of unreasoning fools
Versd in low cunning which to handle brief
Is but a genteel title for a thief
Nay start not reader such harsh words to hear
Nor deem the pen of Satire too severe
What is that shuffling shadow of a man
Were selfs deceptions shine in every plan

736

Who spouts of freedom as the thing he craves
& treats the poor oer whom he rules as slaves
Who votes equallity that all may share
& stints the pauper of his parish fare
Who damns all taxes both of church & state
& on the parish lays a double rate
Such is our heroe in his tyrant pride
Then is his honours title misapplied
Such with one breath scoff at the poors distress
& bawl out freedom for their own redress
True Patriotism is a thing divine
& far above a theme so mean as mine
To higher powers due praises may belong
But patriotism is above my song
Not that which tells its emptiness aloud
Like quacks & pedlars to a gaping crowd
That pleads foul robbery in an honest stile
& feeds poor hope on honied words the while
That deems it honour urgd in knaverys cause
& highest merit to evade the laws
With words of peace & plenty thickly sown
Deceptions aimd at ignorance alone
Empty as frothing bubbles on the stream
Or shadowy banquets in a beggars dream
Ruins the mark the motly monster bears
& vile hypocrisy the mask it wears
Cant as high priest around its alter prays
& preaches loud its mockery of praise

737

Oer blinded minds its poison quickly runs
But shrinks in mist from reasons searching suns
To those gilt Dagons knaves & fools may raise
Deceptions alters of decieving praise
& paint their claims as interest wills to paint
Call each a god a devil or a saint
Truth will his godships mighty claims betray
& prove like Daniel that hes made of clay
These soft politic saints may freedom preach
& vacant minds believe the lies they teach
Who think them walking canaans flowing oer
With milk & honey for the starving poor
& sure enough their wants may richly fare
If like camelions they can feed on air
Their promises sown thick degenerate run
& mildew into broken ones when done
& tho a plentious seed time dreams of gains
A blighted harvest falsifys the pains
Such promises to day to morrow straight
Like an old almanack is out of date
& they who break them no more credit breaks
Then Moors new year does for the olds mistakes
Thus freedom preaching is but knaverys game
& old self interest by a different name

738

But they alone are worthy of its claims
Who midst the storm that sanctions or defames
Firm like the Oak on their first ground sojourn
Neath suns & winds that shines & shocks in turn
Who fear no scoffs nor hunt the cloak of bribes
Those smiling tempters of declaiming scribes
Meteors that dazzle with a vapours flame
That rise in gilded praise & set in shame
Tho barren vineyards patriots labour in
Their countrys good is all they strive to win
Tho rough the road they struggle to the last
& look with joy upon the journey past
Their very faults are blessings misapplied
‘& een their failings lean to virtues side’
Tho crowds be found to scorn & few to raise
The ‘still small’ anthem of deserving praise
Yet consience triumphs like a setting sun
& self illumined feels its best was done
For men like these the heathens praise did claim
Seats with the Gods & gave their deeds the name
& still for such fame pulls from freedoms tree
A bough that blossoms with posterity
& twines like Ivy gathering strength with time
Green round the ruins of their native clime

& such art thou—but why should I proclaim
Thy worth that hideth from the gaze of fame

739

& in the conscience of a noble cause
Shrinks like a hermit from the worlds applause
Yet worth like thine a share of fame shall meet
That falls like sunshine on thy calm retreat
That fame that found the Roman at his plough
Follows thy footsteps & applauds thee now
& little need hath verse of mine to tell
Of one respected & beloved so well
& lest my humble muse unused to shine
Shoud with presumptive theme dishonour thee
I'll leave thy name to wortheir songs then mine
& pledge this offering to thy memory
Titles & power & riches & estate
All at thy birth conspired to make thee great
But these are baubles which distinction breeds
& are as shadows to thy noble deeds
Pomp is an insect that but makes display
For one poor season & so fades away
Tho flattery fawns by wealth & titles moved
True worth alone can make the man beloved
& worth is thine that through thy life hath won
The praise of many & the scorn of none
For foes grow silent when they hear thy name
& sanction praises were they cannot blame
For thy whole life hath sought one common end
The slave to free the feeble to befriend
No pompous speeches which ambition vents
Made thy name popular in parliments
No court intrigues a fawning hope to raise
Gilt thy first entrance with newspaper praise—
Mans general welfare & thy countrys good
Deeds on which honours noblest base hath stood
Were the first struggles of thy patriotic skill
& wears through life thy whole ambition still
Labouring along in each unshining part
With simple truth & such an upright heart

740

That when the poor hear thee their rights defend
They feel thee more their brother then their friend
& in such hearts thy name so good & just
Shall live behind & ‘blossom in the dust’
& may thy names successors ever be
Branches proved worthy of their parent tree
To bloom unblighted on a glorious race
Shineing unsullied on the page of fame
& like the sunrise on an ancient place
Gild the past memory of thy worthy name
Names without worth may be by beggars bought
Shadows of nothings that are less then naught
These will grow old like garments time will tear
Poor honours tinsel & make worse for wear
The proudest trials to prolong their date
When scut[c]heond pride turns rags & mocks in state
Aye marble bye & bye with sculpture deckt
Shall mingle with the ashes they protect
Brass eat its self away in fretting rust
& names on adamant shall fret to dust
Worth & worth only has the longest run
& virtue graves it on the golden sun
Eternitys escutcheon there it shines
With every day renewed which nothing lines
Piering its influence on the happy day
While bad ones moulder in the night away
What is mere honour that so charms the sight
A bauble gilt a shadow cloathed in light
A pompous nothing pride extolleth high
A boast of blood that runs its channels dry
To stagnate upon common shores at last
Honour in state what is the Farce when past
A veil death sends exposing tyrant knaves
To eke the refuse of ignoble graves
Honour in war the cannon vaunts so loud
What but poor insect weaving its own shroud
A danger where the bravest dare & die
For the cold praise that marble tombs supply

741

& such is honours all in every game
Like faithless friend she soon forgets their fame
& as a laccquey unto shame will turn
With littleness & meaness to sojourn
So what was Pompeys Cesars in the past
Race horses dogs & coaches heir at last

Mere titles without worth are withered bays
& paper crowns that mock at honours rays
The meanest tradesman in his flash attire
Struts from behind his counter an Esqr
Een knighthood from its throne is hurled afar
& fortune caught for clowns the fallen star
What honour wore times past Sir Ralph wears now
Whose feats of prowess sprung from flail & plough
Whose grandame spun & darned the cloaths she wore
& robed the dung hill to increase her store
Thus sprang the means that feed his present fame
& silver stars gild oer his little name
& just as much of honours light they leave
As pewter crests upon a paupers sleeve
The little odds thats hardly worth the name
Lie in the metal for the mans the same
While a good name however poor or small
Grows great in value & outshines them all

A shadow man between the two extreams
Of fat & lean like pharoahs hungry dreams

742

With visage such as frighted childern dread
When gossip stories haunt their dreams abed
In heart & head vain ignorant & dull
& fierce in visage as a baited bull
Appears the village constable who bears
The affairs of state & keeps them in repairs
Foremost in meetings he resumes his place
& gives opinions upon every case
Reigning & ruling in the mighty state
A jackall makeshift for a majistrate
Keeping the tools of terror for each cause
When the starved poor oerstep his pigmy laws
To mark the paupers goods the parish brand
Is in his mansion ready at command
Titles around his name their honours bring
Like rags & tatters round the ‘beggars king’

Churchwardens Constables & Overseers
Makes up the round of Commons & of Peers
With learning just enough to sign a name
& skill sufficient parish rates to frame
& cunning deep enough the poor to cheat
This learned body for debatings meet

743

Tho many heads the parliment prepare
& each one claims some wisdom for its share
Like midnight with her vapours tis so small
They make but darkness visible withall
Their secretary is the Parish Clerk
Whom like a shepherds dog they keep to bark
& gather rates & when the next are due
To cry them oer at church time from his pew
He as their ‘Jack of all trades’ steady shines
Thro thick & thin to sanction their designs
Who apes the part of King & Magistrate
& acts grand segnior of this turkish state
Who votes new laws to those already made
& acts by force when one is disobeyd
Having no credit which he fears to loose
He does what ever dirty jobs they chuse
Knight of the black staff master of the stocks
& hand cuff keeper—tools that sadly mock
His dignity—for common sense will sneer
& half acknowledge in his passing ear
That such like tools & titles near was known
To grace a name so aptly as his own
For though with natural cunning fortified
His deeds will often grow too large to hide
Tho' like a smugglers dealings shunning light
They peep thro' rents & often sprout in sight

744

Thus summons oft are served in hopes of pelf
To overcharge & get a fee for self
& village dances watched at midnight hours
In the mock errand of his ruleing powers
With feigned pretence good order to preserve
Only to break it if a chance shoud serve
For married clowns his actions closely mark
& jealous grow at whispers in the dark
Whence broils ensue—then from the noisey fray
Himself hath made sneaks unpercieved away
Like to the fox whom yard dogs barks affright
When on the point of robbing roosts at night
Such is this Sancho of the magistrates
& such are most knaves of those petty states
Where cunning fools are only reckoned wise
Who best can hide their faults from others eyes
& bold assurance forging merits place
Takes credit to be bad were all are base
Whose Staff becomes his law & succour too
The stoutest village rabble to subdue
Soon as he holds it in his mighty hand
It grows as potent as a magic wand
Clowns look & grow submissive at the view
As if the mighty weapon froze them thro

745

For when a Hudibrass oersteps the laws
A Ralph is ready to defend his cause
Tasking the pauper [his] labours to stand
Or clapping on his goods the Parish Brand
Lest he should sell them for the want of bread
On parish bounty rather pind then fed
Or carrying the parish book from door to door
Claiming fresh taxes from the needy poor
& if ones hunger overcomes his hate
& buys a loaf with what shoud pay the rate
He instant sets his tyrant laws to work
In heart & deed the essence of a turk
Brings summons for an eighteen penny rate
& gains the praises of the parish state
Or seizes goods & from the burthend clown
Extorts for extra trouble half a Crown
Himself a beggar that may shortly take
A weekly pittance from the rates they make
But the old proverb suits the subject well
Mount such on horseback & theyll ride to hell
Such is this fussy cur that well deserves
The business of the master whom he serves
The vilest thing neer crawled without its brother
& theyre as like as one Ass gets another
One sets no job but tother barks to do't
Both for self interest lick the foulest foot
& spite of all the meaness & the stink
Picks up gains crumbles from the dirtiest sink
One name serves both & that I need not name
For all may by the color know the game
As hungry dogs know carrion by the smell
So all may know them by their ways as well
Coarse as such images but nought would do
But coarsest stuff to make the picture true
As when some muse weeps over Tyburn tree
Hard words & hanging make the melody

746

So as they reign here let them hang together
Stinking when met like sinks in stormy weather
Tho natures marks are deep that all may scan
A knaves delusions from an honest man
Oppression often mourns the vile abuse
& flyes to justice—deemd of little use
Truth that coud once its own redresses seek
Is now deemd nothing & forbid to speak
Driven like an exild king from past renown
Power took its place & keeps it with a frown
But tis well known that justice winks at crimes
A saying thats in season at all times
Or why should the poor sinning starving clown
Meet jail & hanging for a stolen crown
While wealthy thieves with knaverys bribes endued
Plunder their millions & are not pursued
Nay at the foot of Tyburns noted tree
They do deserving deeds & still go free
Where others suffer for some pigmy cause
They all but murder & escape the laws
Skulking awhile in briberys dirty den
Then start new gilt & pass as honest men
& why shoud power or pride betray its trust
Is it too old a fashion to be just
Or does self interest inclinations bend
Aye Aye the Farmer is his worships friend
As parish priest from him he meets his tythes
Punctual as harvest wakes the tinkling sythes
Tho often grudgd yet he their hopes to glad
Prays better harvests when the last was bad

747

& as he deals so honestly with him
It must be malice in the poor or whim
Who seek relief & lay on them the blame
& hopless seek it & return the same
Within the church where they on sabbath days
Mock god with all the outward show of praise
Making his house a pharisees at best
Gods for one day & Satans all the rest
The parson oft scarce puts his sermon bye
Ere neath his pulpit & with mighty cry
The clerk anounces—what?—commandments meet
No—when these parish vestrys next shall meet
To fleece the poor & rob with vile command
Want of its bread too feeble to withstand
Altho its aching heart too often knows
Knaves call it debtor where it nothing owes
For in these Vestrys cunning deep as night
Plans deeds that would be treason to the light
& tho so honest in its own disguise
Twould be plain theft exposed to reasons eyes
For the whole set just as they please can plan
And what one says all sanction to a man
Self interest rules each vestry they may call
& what one sticks for is the gain of all
The set—thus knavery like contagion runs
& thus the fathers card becomes the sons

748

Both play one game to cheat us in the lump
& the sons turn up shows the fathers trump

Here shines the man of morals Farmer Finch
Smooth tongued & fine an angel every inch
In outward guise & never known as yet
To run in Taverns Brothels or in debt
In public life all punctual honest true
& flattery gives his graces double due
For pitys gifts are never public made
But there his name & guinea is displayed
In double views to answer prides desire
To purchase praise & to be dubbed Esquire
A sunday never comes or foul or fair
That misses him at church throughout the year
The priest himself boasts as the mans reward
That he near preached a sermon but he heard
Such is the man in public all agree
That saints themselves no better men could be
But now of private life lets take the view
—In that same church & in that very pew
Where he each sabbath sings & reads & prays
He joins the vestry upon common days
Cheating the poor with leveys doubly laid
On their small means that wealth may be defrayed
To save his own & others his compeers
He wrongs the poor whom he has wrongd for years
Making the house of prayer the house of sin
& placing Satan as high priest within

749

Such is this good church going morral man
This man of morrals on deseptions plan
So knaves by cant steer free from sins complaints
& flatterys cunning coins them into saints

Tho justice Terror who the peace preserves
Meets more of slander then his deeds deserves
A blunt opinionated odd rude man
Severe & selfish in his every plan
Or right or wrong his overreasoning heart
Believes & often overacts his part
Tho pleading want oft meets with harsh replies
& truths too often listend too as lies
Altho he reigns with much caprice & whim
The poor can name worse governers then him
His gifts at Christmass time are yearly given
No doubt as toll fees on the road to heaven
Tho charity or looses byt or wins
Tis said to hide a multitude of sins
& wether wealth-bought-hopes shall fail or speed
The poor are blest & goodness marks the deed
Tho rather leaning to the stronger side
He preaches often on the sins of pride
& oft while urging on the crimes of dress
His looks will tell the jealous were to guess

750

Vain offering mercys plea in hopes to cure
How wasted pride might feed the wanting poor
& wether just or not his own whole plan
Sets the example as a plain drest man
His three cockt hat & suit in colour met
Were youths first fashion & he sticks it yet
The same spruce figure traced in memorys back
Een strangers know him as ‘the man in black’
While playing boys on sundays without guess
Will scent their foe a furlong by his dress
Tho to complaints his aid is oft denyd
Tho said too oft to shun the weaker side
Yet when foul wrongs are utterd in his ear
Farmers themselves meet reprimands severe
Poor trembling maids too learn his looks to dread
By sad forcd errands to his mansion led
His worships lectures are so long & keen
Theyre dreaded now as pennance once has been
Tho it is said what will not rumour say
There een was seasons when the priest was gay
That now & then in manhoods lusty morn
His maids turnd mothers & were never sworn
Yet still he reigns what ever faults they find
A blunt odd rude good picture of his kind
Who preaches partial for both church & king
& runs reform down as a dangerous thing
& oft like hells its mystic deeds unravels
& dreads it name as children dread the d---ls

751

Yet mixes often in election dinners
& takes his seat ‘with publicans & sinners’
Drinks healths & argues wether wrong or right
Nor ever flinches to be deemd polite
But healths gave out by young reforming sparks
He drinks in silence & disdains remarks
Or puts the profferd wine untasted bye
& waits some wiser speech to make reply
Anothers faults with him are quickly known
Yet needs a micriscope to find his own
He deems all wrong but him unless they be
Of the same cloth & think the same as he
Thus self triumphant both in light & dark
He oft leaves reason & oer shoots the mark
& while he deems reform a knave & cheet
Extreams in both as equals nearly meet
For he who gains on reasons race the start
& good or bad thus overacts his part
Is quite as radical in reasons cause
As he who trys to trample oer the laws
What ever cause he banters or defends
Enthuseism baffles not befriends
The wild mad clamours that its votarys raise
Urge those to ridicule who meant to praise
& hurts religion tho it wears a gown
As bad as deists who woud pull it down

752

& thus his reverence often sinks in faults
& dashes on & never own[s] nor halts
Ranters & Methodists his open foes
In person & in sermons hell oppose
With superstition hell brook no pretense
& deems them catholics in all but sense
They in their turn oppose the urgd remark
& deem his worship grovling in the dark
Sifts the opinions which he puts in force
& strives to wreck him with his own discourse
Deeming the plan to which his pride doth cling
‘That little learning is a dangerous thing’
From whence reformd opinionists proceed
That near had been had they not learnd to read
They prove such plans in arguments at length
A very pope in every thing but strength
& tho the cobler priest lacks no consiet
His worship tires him & will not be beat
When the old snob despairing not resignd
Sighs while he sneers & pitys one so blind
Still with each rude assault he preseveres
Nor heeds the Coblers cant nor cares nor fears
& now & then his sermons length prolongs
To guard his flock against decietful tongues
& takes much trouble on a sabbath day
To lecture drunkards & drive boys from play
& tho from year to year unknown to use
To keep his peace & sunday from abuse

753

Beside the circling cross upon the hill
The dancing Stocks maintain their station still
& as derision & decaying time
Weaken their trumph oer abuse & crime
The priest still mindfull of his ruling cares
Renews their reign in threatning repairs
Laws or religion or be what they will
Self will not yield but stickles to it still
& still he rules in every baffling plan
The same head strong opinionated man

But now grown old in reading sundays prayers
& keeping village morals in repairs
Till een his very spectacles refuse
To see the largest print that age can chuse
He seeks a curate to supply his place
A kinsman of his worships sacred race
Who ages back sought priesthoods place to teach
The only spot were bankrupts cannot reach
& meeting riches in prosperity
Still chuse a scion from the family
To graft upon religions fruitful stock
Were blights near come ambitions hopes to mock

754

That bends with fruit when ere they like to pull
& bears all seasons & is ever full
So this young kinsman of his worships troop
That like to Levi keeps the charter up
Now fills with mighty lungs the plenteous place
Whose love of gain makes up for want of grace
Who wears his priesthood with a traders skill
& makes religion learn to make her bill
Who ere he cures his sheep of their disease
Like lawyers studys oer the churches fees
Who ekes new claims on customs ancient price
When reason ruled & priests were not so nice
& sets on registers his raising mark
That used to fetch their sixpence to the clerk
& from the age enquiring staring clown
Extorts the monstrous charge of half a crown
& if a wanderer leaves his wants to roam
& dies on other ills he meets from home
His church yard common for a bed is lost
& forfeits must be paid by double cost
& his jack all the clerk in double sense
Who sings his sunday task & counts his pence
Hies to his post instructed in his trade
To claim the fees before the grave is made
& marriage pays its earnest for a bride
Offering her fees before the knott is tyd
& new made mothers that with thanks repairs
Seek gods kind love but pays the priest for prayers

755

With him self interest has a face of brass
A shameless tyrant that no claims surpass
Who shrinks at nothing & woud not disdain
To take a farthing in the ways of gain
Or less what ere his claims & fees enjoin
If such a fraction was a current coin
Such is the substitute put on to keep
The close shorn remnant of his worships sheep
& bye & bye hopes at his friends decay
To be sole shepherd & recieve full pay
& is religion grown so commonplace
To place self interest foremost in the race
& leave poor souls in Satans claws confind
Crawling like crabs a careless pace behind
Excuse the priest he's prest with weighty cares
& tho the pauper dyes without his prayers
What if such worthless sheep slip into hell
For want of prayers before the passing bell
The priest was absent twas a daily song
Yet none except the vulgar thought it wrong
Perhaps when death beds might his aid desire
His horse was sick & might a drink require
Or friends for just nessesitys might claim
His shooting skill to track the fields for game
& when they needed patridges or hares
The parish pauper coud not look for prayers
Or if he did indulge the foolish whim
What cared the priest—dye & be d---d for him
& he had land to shepherd where the wheat
In a sly way the churches profit beat

756

Tho he kept one to manage of his kin
Yet self was foreman when the gain dropt in

& dwells no memorys in the days gone bye
No names whose loss is worth a present sigh
Yes—there was one who priesthoods trade profest
‘One whom the wretched & the poor knew best’
& in yon house that neighbours near the show
Of parish huts a mellancholy row
That like to them a stubble covering wears
Decayd the same & needing like repairs
Superior only was the mansion known
Instead of mud by having walls of stone
There lived the Vicar once in days gone bye
When pride & fashion did not rank so high
Ere poor religion threw her weeds away
To mix in circles of the worldly gay
Ere hunting Parsons in the chace begun
& added salarys kept their dog & gun
To claim & trespass upon ground not theirs
The game for shooting well as tythe for prayers
Ere sheep was driven from the shepherds door
& pleasure swallowed what might feed the poor
In that same time whose loss was keenly felt
The good old Vicar in this mansion dwelt

757

Plain as the flock dependant on his cares
Their week day comforts & their sunday prayers
Hed no spare wealth to follow fashions whim
& if he had she'd little joys for him
He kept no horse the hunting sports to share
He fed no dogs to run the harmless hare
Hed nought to waste while hunger sought his shed
& while he had it they near wanted bread
His chiefest pleasure charity possest
In having means to make another blest
Little was his & little was required
Coud he do that twas all the wealth desired
Tho small the gift twas gave with greatest will
& blessings oer it made it greater still
On wants sad tale he never closed his door
He gave them somthing & he wishd it more
To all alike compassions hand was dealt
& every gift tho small was deeply felt
The beggars heart dismantled of its fears
Leapd up & thankd him for his crust with tears
& ownd was worth rewarded as it ought
Hed claims to thousands were hed but a groat
Muttering their blessing as they turnd to part
Wishing his purse an equal to his heart

758

Ah weres the heart so hardend at its core
Or eye so dead on what it pauses oer
That times sad changes fail to be severe
That sees his havoc & near drops a tear
The Vicars greensward pathways once his pride
His woodbine bowers that used his doors to hide
& he himself full often in his chair
Smoaking his pipe & conning sermons there
The yard & garden roods his only farms
& all his stock the hive bees yearly swarms
Are swept away—their produce & their pride
Were doomed to perish when the owner dyd
Fresh faces came with little taste or care
& joyd to ruin what was his to rear
His garden plants & blossoms all are fled
& docks & nettles blossom in their stead
Before the door were pinks & roseys stood
The hissing goose protects her summer brood
& noisey hogs are free to wallow oer

759

The corner seat were weary hinds had rest
The snug fire side that welcomd many a guest
Not fashions votarys these disdaind his door
But plain old farmers & the neighbouring poor
The one in harmless leisure to regale
To crack his wallnutts & to taste his ale
With miserys humble plea the other led
To tell his sorrows & to share his bread
These are decayed as comforts will decay
As winters sunshine or as flowers in may
These all are past as joys are born to pass
Were lifes a shadow & were flesh is grass
Een memorys lingering features time shall rot
& this good man is nearly now forgot
Save on his tomb & some few hearts beside
Greyheaded now left childern when he dyd
Who from their parents all his goodness knew
& learnd to feel it as they older grew
When he was vanishd & the world was known
& troubles evil days became their own
Then woud they talk in sorrows gushing joys
Of the good priest that preached when they were boys
& shake their heads & wish such godly men
& good old times woud come about agen
Full well may they regret the seasons gone
Such happy times that pride hath trampld on
Well may the past warm in the peasants praise
& dwell with memory as the golden days

760

When the old vicar with his village dwelt
Ere prides curst whimseys was so deeply felt
When farmers used their servants toils to share
& went on foot to market & to fair
Not like the present petty ruling things
Disdaining ploughs from whence their living springs
& looking high among their betters now
Claim with the parson labours passing bow
Ere titled homage wore no vulgar names
Nor made a mockery to pretending claims
Yon cot when in its glory & its pride
Maintaind its priest & half the poor beside
These were the times that plainess must regret
These were the times that labour feels as yet
Ere mockd improvments plans enclosed the moor
& farmers built a workhouse for the poor
& vainly feels them & as vainly mourns
As no hopes live betokening like returns
The cottage now with neither lawn or park
Instead of Vicar keeps the vicars clerk
Wolves may devour oppressions fiends may reign
Nones nigh to listen when the poor complain
Too high religion looks her flocks to watch
Or stoop from pride to dwell in cots of thatch
Scenes too important constant business brings
That lends no time to look on humbler things
Too much of pleasure in her mansion dwells
To hear the troubles which the pauper tells

761

To turn a look on sorrows thorny ways
Like good samaritans of former days
To heal in mercy when foul wrongs pursue
& weep oer anguish as she once woud do
Distress may languish & distress may dye
Theres none that hears can help them when they cry
Compassion cannot stoop nor pride alow
‘To pass that way’ with oil or honey now
Still there are some whose actions merit praise
The lingering breathings of departed days
Tho in this world of vainess thinly sown
Yet there are some whom fashion leaves alone
Who like their master plain & humble go
& strive to follow in his steps below
Who in the Wilderness as beacons stand
To pilgrims journeying to the promised land
To give instructions to enquiring souls
& cheer the weak above the worlds controuls
To tend their charge & wanderers back restore
To rest the weary & relieve the poor

The past & present always disagree
The claims of ruin is what used to be
Old customs usuage daily disappears
& wash to nothing in the stream of years

762

The very church yard & its ramping grass
& hollow trees remain not as it was
Far different scenes its nakedness displays
To those familiar with its guardians days
Tho holy ground & trees that round it grew
Ownd claims sufficient to be holy too
Religions humble plea was felt in vain
When ruin enterd with the hopes of gain
Its weak defence was trampled under foot
& all its pride laid level to its root
Its awthorn hedges surely sacred things
That blushd in blossom to a many springs
Its hollow trees that time decayd in tears
& left to linger in the blight of years
Whose mossy finger scarrd on every grain
The trace of days that never come again
These old inhabitants are now no more
Oppression enterd & their reign was oer
Sure shades like these a natural end bespoke
Who'd thought their peace was ripening to be broke
Till other hearts the vicars place supplyd
That preachd a life that practice oft belied

763

Then ancient tenants of a sacred spot
They fell like common trees & were forgot

Ah sure it was a mellancholly day
That calld the good man from his charge away
Those poor lorn outcasts born to many cares
That shared his table welcome as his prayers
To them the bells worse tidings never gave
Then that which calld their guardian to the grave
To them no prayers so near their bosoms reachd
As the sad lecture oer his coffin preachd
Theyd no more harvests now of hopes to reap
Een children wept to see their mothers weep
& pulld their gowns to ask & question when
Hed wake & come to give them pence agen
‘Hell not sleep there for ever sure he wont
‘Wholl feed & cloath us if the Vicar dont’
Thus lispd the babes & while their parents sighd
Muttering their blessings by the pasture side
Warm repetitions of their griefs was given
& they hoped too to meet their friend in heaven

Beside the charnell wall in humble guise
A small stone noteth were the vicar lyes

764

Were age slow journying on the sabbath day
Oft potters up to wipe the weeds away
& show enquiring youth with mournfull pride
That good mans name that once its wants supply'd
To hear it read & bring back days to view
& feel his goodness & his loss anew
Blessing his name & praying as they weep
To be full soon companions of his sleep
To share with him the churchyards lonely peace
Were pride forgets its scorn & troubles cease
Were povertys sad reign of cares is oer
Nor tells its wants to be denyd no more
The last lorn hope & refuge that appears
Thro the dull gloom of lifes declining years

Shoved as a nusiance from prides scornfull sight
In a cold corner stands in wofull plight
The shatterd workhouse of the parish poor
& towards the north wind opes the creaking door
A makeshift shed for misery—no thought
Urgd plans for comfort when the work was wrought
No garden spot was left dull want to cheer
& make the calls for hunger less severe

765

With wholsome herbs that summers might supply
Twas not contrived for want to live but dye
A forced consern to satisfy the law
Built want this covering oer his bed of straw
Een that cheap blessing thats so freely given
To all that liveth neath the face of heaven
The light of day is not alowd to win
A smiling passage to the glooms within
No window opens on the southern sky
A luxury deemd to prides disdainful eye
The scant dull light that forcefull need supplyd
Scorn frownd & placed them on the sunless side
Here dwell the wretched lost to hopless strife
Reduced by want to skelletons in life
Despised by all een age grown bald & grey
Meets scoffs from wanton childern in their play
Who laugh at misery by misfortune bred
& points scorns finger at the mouldering shed
The tottering tennant urges no replye
Turns his white head & chokes the passing sigh
& seeks his shed & hides his hearts despair
For pity lives not as a listner there
When no one hears or heeds he wakes to weep
On his straw bed as hunger breaks his sleep
& thinks oer all his troubles & distress
With not one hope that life shall make them less

766

Save silent prayers that every woe may have
A speedy ransom in the peaceful grave
Close fisted justice tho his only friend
Doth but cold comforts to his miserys lend
For six days only it alows its fee
Pay scarce sufficient for the wants of three
& for the seventh which god sent to rest
The weary limbs of labouring man & beast
He too may pay for what blind justice cares
Theyve nought for sunday but the parsons prayers

He lived not from his cradle thus forlorn
Both friends & kindred blest his early morn
But kindred now are vanished all & gone
His friends turned foes & thus he lives alone
A Farm he rented in his prosperous days
& prides mouth never opened but to praise
Misfortune crossed his path he tried in vain
& sunk like Job but never rose again
His kindred pitied but no help supplied
His friends were sought but friends their aid denied
Kin turned away & left his wants forlorn
& prides eye never heeded but to scorn
To him the whole wide world contained no friend
His griefs to sooth his weakness to defend
Look where he may all he possessed is fled
& he himself tho living seems as dead

Old Farmer Thrifty reigns from year to year
Their tyrant king yclypd an overseer
A sad proud knave who bye a cunning plan
Blindfolds his faults & seems an honest man

767

He rarely banters when he buys or sells
But sets a price & there his honour dwells
He rails at cheating knaves for knaverys sake
& near asks double what he means to take
Shuns open ways which lesser rogues pursue
An outside christian but at heart a Jew
Each smooth deciet his blackend heart belies
& consience blushes thro the thin disguise
He seems so honest so says Farmer Slye
That even childern may his bargains buy
& pays all debts too with a feignd good will
& rarely frowns to read a trades mans bill
While those deemd moderate charges rarely fail
To buy a welcome & to taste his ale
Upright & punctual every bargains made
A very quaker in affairs of trade
He preaches down the faults in neighbours known
Scorns other roguery just to hide his own
Thus he mocks honour on deceptions creed
But let us read the riddle in the deed
Tho wealth nor makes nor want bemeans the man
With nought but luck the world & he began
Old men will tell you when the boy was small
How he blackd shoes & waited at the Hall
But natural cunning shone in early youth
& flatterys tongue which pride mistook for truth
Raisd by degrees the youngster into fame
& blotchd fates stigma from his little name
Gilding like blemished fruit his failings oer
Thats fair without & rotten at the core

768

Thro all the names that wait on wealth & pride
From shoe black vile to valet dignified
He rose successively without a fall
& ownd the cunning power to please in all
& as the serpent yearly changed his skin
Some old face fled to take the youngster in
At length power blessd him with its highest stretch
Which good mens merits might despair to reach
No longer doomd in servitude to wait
Next to the squire he managed his estate
Yclypd a Steward—strangers made their bow
& the squire took him as an equal now
While to neglect his former steward fell
For no one crime unless twas acting well
& soon the tyrant threw the mask aside
When wealth throngd in & power was gratified
Soon cloakd deciet that placed its owner there
To grasp at riches threw its visage bare
He raisd the rents of all the tennants round
& then distrest them as in duty bound
& then askd leave of the contented squire
To rent the farm & had his hearts desire
The storm at first must burst upon the poor
That urgd wants curses as they passd his door
The humble hind that kept his cow before
& just kept want from creeping to his door
He viewd their comforts with a jealous heart
& raised their rents & bade their hopes depart
Yet loath to leave—their cows was sold for rent
& the next year left nothing but complaint

769

Twas just as wished his plans was quickly known
Each spot was seized & added to his own
Others resignd & the half starving poor
Laid down their sufferings at their masters door
Unused to such complaints the easy squire
Was rousd to listen pity & enquire
The knave still ready up his sleeve to creep
Proved all as right & land as still too cheap
But friends familiar swore the squire was mad
To think of reasoning with a man so bad
To see & suffer such uncloakd abuse
From one whose plans was shuffle & excuse
Such whispers urgd the easy Squire to shift
& Steward Thrifty then was turnd adrift
But not before his purse was filld with pelf
For knaves work quick & near loose sight of self
His nest was featherd ere his fame was old
& land was bought when farms was cheaply sold
He now retires at ease & sells his grain
& strives to be an honest rogue in vain
With big round belly & sleek double chin
He reads the news & smokes & drinks his gin
& studys all the week oer gains affairs
& once a week at Chappel reads his prayers
& seems as striving former deeds to mend
Mild to a foe & coaxing to a friend
But to the poor his ways are still severe
Dwindled in Office to an overseer

770

Still deaf to want that seeks him to be fed
He gives them curses in the lieu of bread
Or scoffing at their hopes tells them theyre free
To seek a law as tyranizd as he
Thus want still proves the stewards cankerd heart
& wealth beholds him ape ‘the goodly part’
The one in nursing vengance while he starves
Is urged to curse him as he still deserves
The other blinded by his alterd plan
Forgives & takes him as a d---d good man
Why art thou, beggars king wants overseer
To helpless poverty alone severe
On their dependance thou hast fatly fed
& can thy niggard hand deny them bread
He pleads bad times when justice chides his ways
Tho justice self is ill deserving praise
& is bad times the cause of such despair
Go ask the wretches who inhabit there
If past good times their hopes had ever blest
& left them thus so wretched & distrest
Ask if their griefs can better times recall
Their startled tears tell plenty as they fall
& pitys heart can easy comprehend
That Farmer Thrifty never was their friend

771

Art thou a man thou tyrant oer distress
Doubtless thy pride woud scorn to think thee less
Then scorn a deed unworthy of that name
& live deserving of a better fame
Hurt not the poor whom fate forbad to shine
Whose lots were cast in meaner ways then thine
Infringe not on the comforts they posses
Nor bid scant hope turn hopless in distress
Drive not poor freedom from its niggard soil
Its independance is their staff for toil
Take that away which as their right they call
& thourt a rogue that beggars them of all
They sink in sorrow as a race of slaves
& their last hope lives green upon their graves
Remember proud aspiring man of earth
Prides short distinction is of mortal birth
However high thy hated name may be
Death in the dust shall humble pride & thee
That hand that formd thee & lent pride its day
Took equal means to fashion humbler clay
One power alike reigns as thy god & theirs
Who deaf to pride will listen humbler prayers
He as our father with the world began
& fashiond man in brotherhood with man
& learn thou this proud man tis natures creed
Or be thou humbled if thou wilt not heed
The kindred bond which our first father gave
Proves man thy brother still & not thy slave

772

& pride may bluster in its little life
To tyranize with overpowering strife
Its turn shall come when proud insulting death
Shall bid it humble & demand its breath
& cannot these fierce tyrants of vain deeds
Dare in their pomp to intercept his speed
As well may rushes stiffen in the storm
& try to wear the oaks unyielding form
As well may feathers float against the stream
& shadows grow to substance in a dream
Or clouds in tempests struggle to be still
As pride to tamper & so baulk his will
He meets them in their strength & torn from ease
They groan & strive like tempests thro the trees
While want from lifes dull shadows glad to run
As pride went foremost & claimed all the sun
Slips from the bitterness of mortal clay
As calm as storms drop on an autumn day
Death is the full stop that awaits to tell
The period of our earthly chronicle
The closing Finis that doth end the rude
Essay of life & bids its tales conclude
With all its failings in the lowly grave
Existance ceases with the all it gave
Wealth want joy anguish all do cease & lye
More blank then shadows neath the smiling sky
Leaving eternity to keep the key
Till judgment sets all hopes & terrors free
Pride & oppression here all meet their end
& find their weakness when too late to mend
With noiseless speed as swift as summer light
Death slays & keeps his weapons out of sight
Here thousands stript of earthly pomp & powers
Met death & perished in unlooked for hours
Their wealth availed not one in all the tribe
Death hath no ears to listen to a bribe
The rich fall poor into the grave & there
The poor grow rich an equal claim to heir
Deaths gloomy mansions owns no hall or throne
But all lye equal—Death is lord alone

773

Pomps trickerys in the grave are all forgot
& worms & eyless skulls distinguish not
The pomp that rotting in prides tomb doth lye
From rubbish that fills up the slaves just bye
Here tyrants that outbraved their God tho clay
& for earths glory threw the heavens away
Whose voice of power did like the thunder sere
As anger hurried on the heels of fear
Ordaining hosts of murders at a breath
How silent here doth sleep their rage in death
Their feet that trampled freedom to its grave
& felt the very earth they trod a slave
How quiet here they lye in deaths cold arms
Without the power to crush the feeble worms
Who spite of all the dreadful strife they made
Crept there to conquer & was not afraid
The warrior from wars havoc here detered
Bows before death lame as a broken sword
His power wastes all to nothingness away
As showers at night wash out the steps of day

Still lives unsung a race of petty knaves
Numerous as wasps to sting & torture slaves
The meanest of the mean a servile race
Who like their betters study to be base
Whose dung hill pride grows stiff in dirty state
& tho so little apes the little great
The Workhouse Keeper as old Thriftys man
Transacts the business on the tyrants plan
Supplys its tennants with their scanty food
& tortures misery for a livlihood
Despised & hated by the slaves he wrongs
& een too low for satires scourging songs

774

So may they yet sink down more viler things
& starve as subjects were they reign as kings
Or when on earth their dirty triumph ends
May hells obscurity reward its frends

A thing all consequence here takes the lead
Reigning knight errant oer this dirty breed
A Bailiff he & who so great to brag
Of law & all its terrors as Bumtagg
Fawning a puppy at his masters side
& frowning like a wolf on all beside
Who fattens beef where sorrow worst appears
& feeds on sad misfortunes bitterest tears
Such is Bumtagg the bailiff to a hair
The worshipper & Demon of despair
Who waits & hopes & wishes for success
At every nod & signal of distress
Happy at heart when storms begin to boil
To seek the shipwreck & to share the spoil
Brave is this Bumtagg match him if you can
For theres none like him living save his man
As every animal assists his kind
Just so are these in blood & business joined
Yet both in different colors hide their art
& each as suits his ends transacts his part
One keeps the heart bred villian full in sight
The other cants & acts the hypocrite
Smoothing the deed where law sherks set the gin
Like a coy dog to draw misfortune in
But both will chuckl[e] oer their prisoner's sighs
& are as blest as spiders over flyes
Such is Bumtagg whose history I resign
As other knaves wait room to stink & shine
& as the meanest knave a dog can brag
Such is the lurcher that assists Bumtagg

775

Born with the changes time & chance doth bring
A shadow reigns yclypd a woodland king
Enthrond mid thorns & briars a clownish wight
My Lords chief woodman in his titles hight
& base & low as is the vulgar knave
He in his turn for tyrant finds his slave
The bug-bear devil of the boys is he
Who once for swine pickt acorns neath the tree
& starving terror of the village brood
Who gleand their scraps of fuel from the wood
When parish charity was vainly tryed
Twas their last refuge—which is now denyd
Small hurt was done by such intrusions there
Claiming the rotten as their harmless share
Which might be thought in reasons candid eye
As sent by providence for such supplye
But turks imperial of the woodland bough
Forbid their trespass in such trifles now
Threatning the dithering wretch that hence proceeds
With jail & whipping for his shamless deeds
Well pleased to bid their feeblest hopes decay
Driving them empty from the woods away
Cheating scant comfort of its pilferd blaze
That doubtless warmd him in his beggars days
Thus knaves in office love to show their power
& unoffending helplessness devour

776

Sure on the weak to give their fury vent
Were theres no strength injustice to resent
As dogs let loose on harmless flocks at night
Such feel no mercy were they fear no bite

Here comes one different to mere parish stuff
A host of talents met in Mr Puff
Knowing in all things ignorant of none
To him mere genius is but farce & fun
While talent drops as from his finger ends
He knows all names—the greatest are his friends
& tho he never saw your face before
Hell jest at wit & run his nonsense oer
Familiar stuff so thick your shame assails
That even dogs to hear it wag their tails
He is so full of wisdom you would swear
Hed robbed the tree of knowledge till twas bare
& not contented with its store of fruits
Had seized the trunk & grubbed it by the roots
& as for quoting Puffs the man to quote
As if hed read all that was ever wrote
Yet like his coat his taste must ape the fashion
So Shakspears pages are his greatest passion
Nor can a beggar even scrat his head
But theres what Shakspears on the matter said
To show by trifles how the fool has read
Are you a Bard—write prose too—very well
Puff deals in all & does in all excell

777

& what he will not boast of having done
He casts that crumb of credit at his son
Mechanical pursuits to spout & write
‘My son sir’ rivals copper plate out right
Themes when a boy at school was never won
But foremost tho an infant stood ‘My son’
& so between them knowledge is possest
Like Pharoahs kine they swallow all the rest
Sir Walter, Byron, as his friends he styles
& at your ignorance thumbs his chain & smiles
Tho at the top of Fame[s] high towering tree
These share the worlds applause—poh so does he
If not in print he tells you bye & bye
He has a M.S. shall climb as high
Do you know half the poets—thats as none
He strokes his chin & knows them every one
Poet Philosopher Mus[i]cian
In fact all fames are bound in his Edition
What ere is great Puff is—but nothing small
All greatness dwells in Puff & Puff in all
If chance ere throws a Poet in his way
He worms him in their notice untill they
Half think theyve seen the smirking fiend before
With so much confidence he tongues them oer
But the mere Barber who is daily led
To clean his chin & drab his fustian head
If he but comes when he with friends hath got
He scorns the fellows speech & knows him not

778

Thus all small matters meet a rude rebuff
From this self oracle renowned Hal Puff
& all thats great he treats as his compeers
A downright Ass in every thing but ears

Others of this small fry as mean as base
May live unknown a pigmy reigning race
& sink to hell from whence their knavery came
As namless tribes unworthy of a name
Left on the dung hill were they reignd to rot
Hated while living & when dead forgot

Here ends the Song—let jealousy condemn
& deep reproofs they merit aimd at them
When pride is touchd & evil consience bit
Each random throw will seem a lucky hit
—If common sense its ears & eyes may trust
Each pictures faithful & each censure just
So let them rail—the proverbs truth is known
‘Were the cap fits theyll wear it as their own’
Full many knaves sharp satires wounds have met
Who live in aqufortis dying yet
In burning ink their scarecrow memorys dwell
Left to the torture of lifes earthly hell
As markd & lasting as the thieves burnt brand
Who lives & dies with villian on his hand