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All such as manly and great souls produce,
Not knowing thee, we reap with bleeding hands Worthy to live, and of eternal use :
Flowers of rank odor upon thorny lands, Behold in these what leisure hours demand,
And, while experience cautions us in vain,
Despondence, self-deserted in her grief,
Lost by abandoning her own relief,
Murmuring and ungrateful discontent, And while she polishes, perverts the taste ;
That scorns afllictions mercifully meant, Habits of close attention, thinking heads,
Those humors, tart as wine upon the fret, Become more rare as dissipation spreads,
Which idleness and weariness beget; [breast, Till authors hear at length one general cry, —
These, and a thousand plagues, that haunt the Tickle and entertain us, or we die.
Fond of the phantom of an earthly rest, The loud demand, from year to year the same, Divine communion chases, as the day Beggars invention, and makes fancy lame ;
Drives to their dens the obedient beasts of prey. Till farce itself, most mournfully jejune,
See Judah’s promised king, bereft of all, Calls for the kind assistance of a tune ;
Driven out an exile from the face of Saul, And novels (witness every month's review)
To distant caves the lonely wanderer flies, Belie their name, and offer nothing new.
To seek that peace a tyrant's frown denies. The mind, relaxing into needful sport,
Hear the sweet accents of his tuneful voice; Should turn to writers of an abler sort,
Hear him, o'erwhelmed with sorrow, yet rejoice ; Whose wit well managed, and whose classio style, No womanish or wailing grief has part, Give truth a lustre, and make wisdom smile.
No, not a moment, in his royal heart ; FRIENDSHIP IN RETIREMENT ; SOLITUDE A GRAVE WITHOUT IT.
”T is manly music, such as martyrs make,
Suffering with gladness for a Saviour's sake;
His soul exults, hope animates his lays,
The sense of mercy kindles into praise,
And wilds, familiar with a lion's roar,
Ring with ecstatic sounds unheard before :
"T is love like his that can alone defeat But one, the rose, the regent of them all) – Friends, not adopted with a school-boy's haste,
The foes of man, or make a desert sweet. But chosen with a nice-discerning taste,
RELIGION THE CONSTANT HANDMAID OF JOY AND THE HARYWell-born, well-disciplined, who, placed apart From vulgar minds, have honor much at heart, Religion does not censure or exclude And, though the world may think the ingredients Unnumbered pleasures harmlessly pursued ; The love of virtue, and the fear of God ! [odd, To sturdy culture, and with artful toil Such friends prevent what else would soon succeed, To meliorate and tame the stubborn soil ; A temper rustic as the life we lead,
To give dissimilar yet fruitful lands And keep the polish of the manners clean,
The grain, or herb, or plant, that each demands ; As theirs who bustle in the busiest scene.
To cherish virtue in an humble state, For solitude, however some may rave,
And share the joys your bounty may create ; Seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave,
To mark the matcbless workings of the power A sepulchre, in which the living lie,
That shuts within its seed the future flower, Where all good qualities grow sick and die.
Bids these in elegance of form excel, I praise the Frenchinan,' his remark was shrowd –
In color these, and those delight the smell, How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude !
Sends nature forth the daughter of the skies, But grant me still a friend in my retreat,
To dance on earth, and charın all human eyes ; Whom I may whisper – solitude is sweet.
To teach the canvas innocent deceit,
These, these are arts pursued without a crime,
That leave no stain upon the wing of time.
THE POET'S AIM.
Me poetry (or rather notes that aim
Feebly and vainly at poetio fame) DIVINE COMMUNION A BALM. - DAVID'S FAITH AND STAY.
Employs, shut out from more important views, O sacred art, to which alone life owes
Fast by the banks of the slow-winding Ouse ; Its happiest seasons, and a peaceful close,
Content if thus sequestered I may raise Scorned in a world, indebted to that scorn
A monitor's, though not a poet's praise, For evils daily felt and hardly borne,
And while I teach an art too little known, 1 Bruyère.
To close life wisely, may not waste my own.
LESS PLEASURES OF RURAL LIFE.
Pastorals for November.
BURNS'S “ COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.”
My loved, my honored, much respected friend !
No mercenary bard bis homage pays : With honest pride I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise : To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,
The lowly train in life's sequestered scene, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways
Which A— in a cottage would have been ; Ah ! though his worth unknown, far happier there, I
Their master's an' their mistress's command
The yonkers a’ are warned to obey,
An' ne'er, tho' out o'sight, to jauk or play ;
An' mind your duty, duly, morn and night, Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray ;
Implore His counsel and assisting might, They never sought in vain who sought the Lord
aright. But, hark! a rap comes gently to the door
Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam o'er the moor
To do some errands and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame
Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek, With heart-struck, anxious care, inquires his name,
While Jenny hafilins is afraid to speak ; Weel pleased the mother hears it's nao wild, worth
November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ;
The shortning winter day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh,
The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose ; The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes,
This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,
Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; The expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through,
To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise and glee, His wee bit ingle blinkin bonnily,
His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile, The lisping infant pratiling on his knee,
Does a' his weary, carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labor and his toil.
Wi’ kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben :
A strappan youth; he takes the mother's eye ; Blythe Jenny sees the visit 's no ill ta'en :
The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye : The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy :
But blate an' laithfu', scarce can weel behave : The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy
What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave, Weel pleased to think her bairn’s respected like the
O happy love! where love like this is found !
O heartfelt raptures ! bliss beyond compare !
And sage experience bids me this declare :
One cordial in this melancholy vale,
In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the even
Wi' joy unfeigned, brothers and sisters meet,
An each for other's welfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed fleet ;
Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ;
Anticipation forward points the view ; The mother, wi' her needle an' her shears,
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new ; The father mixes a' wi admonition due.
Is there, in human form, that bears a heart
A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,
Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjured arts ! dissembling smooth !
Are honor, virtue, conscience, all exiled ? Is there no pity, no relenting ruth,
Points to the parents fondling o'er their child, Then paints the ruined maid, and their distraction And decks the lily fair in flowery pride, Would, in the way his wisdom sees the best,
For them and for their little ones provide, But chiefly in their hearts with grace divine preside.
But now the supper crowns the simple board :
The halesome parritoh, chief o' Scotia's food : The soup their only hawkie does afford,
That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood ; The dame brings forth in complimental mood,
To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck fell, And aft he's prest, and aft he ca's it guid.
The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell How thus a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell.
The cheerfu' supper done, wi’ serious face,
They round the ingle form a circle wide ; The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,
The big Ha' Bible, ance his father's pride ;
His lyart haffets wearin thin an' bare.
He wales a portion with judicious care ;
GLOSSARY. Sugh, sigh ; pleugh, plough ; craws, croms; moil, labor ; wee, little ; toddlin, tottering ; stacher, stagger ; flichterin, fluttering ; ingle, fire ; blinkin, glimmering ; carking, corrolling ; belyve, by and by ; bairns, children; drapping, dropping ; roun, round ; ca, drive ; tentie, careful; rin, run ; cannie, dextrous ; e'e, eye; braw, handsome ; spiers, inquires ; uncos, strange things í gars, makes; eydent, diligent ; jauk, joke ; gang, go; wha kens, who knows ; halflins, half, partly ; ben, into the room ; strappan. strapping ; ta’en, taken ; cracks, talks ; kye, cows ; blate, bashful; laithfu', sheepish; lave, rest ; parritch, porridge; bawkie, cow ; cood, cud ; 'yont the hallant, beyond the partition wall; hained, saved ; kebbuck, cheese ; fell, evenly cut ; towmond, twelvemonth ; lint in the bell, flax in blossom ; ha', hall ; lyart, gray ; haflets, temples ; wales, selects ; beets, adds fuel to ; Dundee and Elgin, well-known psalm tunes. - See also glossaries, pp. 186, 336.
They chant their artless notes in simple guise,
They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim ; Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise,
Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name, Or noble Elgin beets the heavenward flame,
The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays ; Compared with these Italian trills are tame;
The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise : Nae unison bae they with our Creator's praise.
The priest-like father reads the sacred page,
How Abram was the friend of God on high ; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage
With Amalek's ungracious progeny ; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie
Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire, Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry ;
Or rapt Isaiah's wild seraphic fire ; or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.
FLETCHER'S “ SHEPHERD'S EVE.”
SHEPHERDS all, and maidens fair,
Then kneeling down, to heaven's eternal King,
The saint, the father, and the husband prays ; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,'
That thus they all shall meet in future days ; There ever bask in uncreated rays ;
No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise,
In such society, yet still more dear, While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Then homeward all take off their several way,
The youngling cottagers retire to rest, The parent pair their secret homage pay,
And proffer up to Heaven their warm request, That He who stills the raven's clamorous nest,
Crabbe's "Parish Register."
Previous consideration necessary : yet not too long delay.
Imprudent marriage of old Kirk and his servant : his apprehensions. Comparison between an ancient and youthful partner to a young man. Prudence of Donald, the gardener. Parish wedding: the compelled bridegroom : day of marriage, how spent. Relation of the accomplishments of Phehe Dawson, a rustic heauty : her lover : his courtship: their marriage : misery of precipitation. The wealthy couple: reluctance in the husband, why? Unusually fair signatures in the register : the common kind. Seduction of Bridget Dawdie, by footman Daniel : her rustic lover : her return to him. An ancient couple : three comparisons on the occasion. More pleasant view of village matrimony : farmers celebrating the day of marriage : their wives. Reuben and Rachel an happy pair : an example of prudent delay. Reflections on their state who were not so prudent, and its improvement towards the termination of life: an old man so circumstanced. Attempt to seduce a village beauty : persuasion and reply : the event.
Nubere si quà voles quamvis properabitis ambo,
Ovid. Fast. lib. 3.
A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook ;
for they Some vital strength, some living fire, display, But none that tend to wear the life itself away. Even now I see thee to the altar come ; Downcast thou wert, and conscious of thy doom : I see thee glancing on that shape aside, With blended looks of jealousy and pride ; But growing fear has long the pride supprest, And but one tyrant rankles in thy breast; Now of her love a second pledge appears, And doubts on doubts arise, and fears on fears ; Yet fear defy, and be of courage stout, Another pledge will banish every doubt ; Thine age advancing as thy powers retire, (quire ? Will make thee sure- what more wouldst thou re
MARRY DELIBERATELY ; LOVE AND PRUDENCE. Disposed to wed, e'en while you hasten, stay, There's great advantage in a small delay ; Thus Ovid sang, and much the wise approve This prudent maxim of the priest of love : If poor, delay shall for that want prepare, That, on the hasty, brings a world of care ; If rich, delay shall brace the thoughtful mind, Tendure the ills that even the happiest find : Delay shall knowledge yield, on either part, And show the value of the vanquished heart : The humors, passions, merits, failings, prove, And gently raise the veil that's worn by love ; Love, that impatient guide ! - too proud to think Of vulgar wants, of clothing, meat, and drink, Urges our amorous swains their joys to seize, And then at rags and hunger frightened flees : Yet thee too long let not thy fears detain ; Till age, refrain not — but if old, refrain.
THE OLD MAN AND HIS YOUNG BRIDE ; NATHAN AND HIS
WANTON NURSE. UNCERTAINTIES. By no such rule would Gaffer Kirk be tied ; First in the year he led a blooming bride, And stood a withered elder at her side. 0! Nathan ! Nathan ! at thy years trepanned, To take a wanton harlot by the hand ! Thou, who wert used so tartly to express Thy sense of matrimonial happiness, Till every youth, whose banns at church were read, Strove not to meet, or, meeting, hung his head ; And every lass forbore at thce to look,
Thus with example sad our year began, A wanton vixen and a weary man ;
But had this tale in other guise been told,' Young let the lover be, the lady old, And that disparity of years shall prove No bane of peace, although some bar to love : "T is not the worst, our nuptial ties among, That joins the ancient bride and bridegroom young; Young wives, like changing winds, their power disBy shifting points and varying day by day ; [play,
And saw the final shilling foully spent ;
Ah ! fly temptation, youth ; refrain ! refrain !
Now zephyrs mild, now whirlwinds in their force,
YOUNG DONALD AND OLD MRS. DOBSON. -- LUCY, SUSAN, AND
CATHARINE, FOILED. For this blithe Donald southward made his way, And left the lasses on the banks of Tay ; Him to a neighboring garden fortune sent ; Whom we beheld aspiringly content : Patient and mild he sought the damne to please, Who ruled the kitchen and who bore the keys; Fair Lucy first, the laundry's grace and pride, With smiles and gracious looks, her fortune tried ; But all in vain she praised his “pawky eyne,' Where never fondness was for Lucy seen ; Hiin the mild Susan, boast of dairies, loved, And found him civil, cautious, and unmoved ; From many a fragrant simple Catharine's skill Drew oil, drew essence from the boiling still ; But not her warmth, nor all her winning ways, From his cool phlegm could Donald's spirit raise ; Of beauty heedless, with the merry mute, To Mrs. Dobson he preferred his suit; There proved his service, there addressed his vows, And saw her mistress, friend, protectress, spouse. A butler
he thanks his powerful bride, And, like her keys, keeps constant at her side.
THE VILLAGE BELLE, PHEBE DAWSOX. - HER CHARMS, VIR
TCES, AND TRIUMPHS. Two summers since, I saw at Lammas fair The sweetest flower that ever blossomed there ; When Phebe Dawson gayly crossed the green, In haste to see, and happy to be seen ; Her air, her manners, all who saw admired ; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retired; The joy of youth and health her eyes displayed, And ease of heart her every look conveyed ; A native skill her simple robes expressed, As with untutored elegance she dressed ; The lads around admired so fair a sight, And Phebe felt, and felt she gave, delight. Admirers soon of every age she gained, Her beauty won them, and her worth retained ; Envy itself could no contempt display They wished her well, whom yet they wished away; Correct in thought, she judged a servant's place Preserved a rustic beauty from disgrace ; But yet on Sunday eve, in freedom's hour, With secret joy she felt that beauty's power; When some proud bliss upon the heart would steal, That, poor or rich, a beauty still must feel.
HER ACCEPTED LOVER, THE TAILOR. At length, the youth ordained to move her breast Before the swains with bolder spirit pressed ; With looks less timid made his passion known, And pleased by manners most unlike her own; Loud though in love, and confident though young ; Fierce in his air, and voluble of tongue ; By trade a tailor, though, in scorn of trade, He served the squire, and brushed the coat he made; Yet now, would Phebe her consent afford, Her slave alone, again he'd mount the board ; With her should years of growing love be spent, And growing wealth : — she sighed, and looked con
THE COMPELLED WEDDING; MISERY FROM SIN.
Next at cur altar stood a luckless pair, Brought by strong passions and a warrant there ; By long rent cloak, hung loosely, strove the bride From every eye what all perceived to hide ; While the boy-bridegroom, shuffling in his pace, Now hid a while and then exposed his face ; As shame alternately with anger strove The brain, confused with muddy ale, to more ; In haste and stammering he performed his part, And looked the rage that rankled in his heart (So will each lover inly curse his fate, Too soon made happy, and made wise too late); I saw his features take a savage gloom, And deeply threaten for the days to come ; Low spake the lass, and lisped and minced the while; Looked on the lad, and faintly tried to smile ; With softened speech and humbled tone sho strove To stir the embers of departed love ; While he, a tyrant, frowning walked before, Felt the poor purse, and sought the public door, She sadly following in submission went,
THE LOVERS' STROLL, — TEMPTATION YIELDED TO. Now, through the lane, up hill, and 'cross the Seen but by fow and blushing to be seen – (green, Dejected, thoughtful, anxious, and afraid, Led by the lover, walked the silent maid : Slow through the meadows roved they, many a mile, Toyed by each bank and trifled at each stile ; Where, as he painted every blissful view, And highly colored what he strongly drew, The pensive damsel, prone to tender fears, Dimmed the false prospect with prophetic tears : Thus passed the allotted hours, till, lingering late, The lover loitered at the master's gate ; There he pronounced adieu ! and yet would stay, Till chidden, soothed, entreated, forced away ;