Shenstone's "Schoolmistress." THE 66 SCHOOLMISTRESS." Ан, me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, To think how modest worth neglected lies; While partial fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise; Deeds of ill sort and mischievous emprise ; Lend me thy clarion, goddess! let me try To sound the praise of merit ere it dies; Such as I oft have chanced to espy, Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity. In every village marked with little spire, Embowered in trees, and hardly known to fame, There dwells, in lowly shed and mean attire, A matron old, whom we Schoolmistress name, Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame; They grieven sore, in piteous durance pent, Awed by the power of this relentless dame, And ofttimes, on vagaries idly bent, [shent. For unkempt hair, or task unconned, are sorely And all in sight doth rise a birchen tree, Which Learning near her little dome did stowe, Whilom a twig of small regard to see, Though now so wide its waving branches flow, And work the simple vassals mickle woe; For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew, But their limbs shuddered, and their pulse beat And as they looked, they found their horror And shaped it into rods, and tingled at the view. So have I seen (who has not, may conceive) A lifeless phantom near a garden placed; So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave, Of sport, of song, of pleasure, of repast; They start, they stare, they wheel, they look Sad servitude! such comfortless annoy [aghast; May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste! Ne superstition clog his dance of joy, Ne vision empty, vain, his native bliss destroy. Near to this dome is found a patch so green, On which the tribe their gambols do display; And at the door imprisoning-board is seen, Lest weakly wights of smaller size should stray, Eager, perdie, to bask in sunny day! The noises intermixed, which thence resound, Do Learning's little tenement betray; Where sits the dame, disguised in look profound, And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow, [around. Emblem right meet, of decency does yield; Her apron, dyed in grain, is blue, I trowe, As is the hare-bell that adorns the field; And in her hand, for sceptre, she does wield Tway birchen sprays, with anxious fears entwined, With dark distrust, and sad repentance filled, And steadfast hate, and sharp affliction joined, And fury uncontrolled, and chastisement unkind. Few but have ken'd, in semblance meet portrayed, The childish faces of old Eol's train; Libs, Notus, Auster; these in frowns arrayed, How then would fare on earth, or sky, or main, Were the stern god to give his slaves the rein? And were not she rebellious breasts to quell, And were not she her statutes to maintain, The cot no more, I ween, were deemed the cell, Where comely peace of mind and decent order dwell. A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown ; A russet kirtle fenced the nipping air; "T was simple russet, but it was her own; "T was her own country bred the flock so fair; "T was her own labor did the fleece prepare ; And, sooth to say, her pupils, ranged around, Through pious awe did term it passing rare; For they in gaping wonderment abound, And think, no doubt, she been the greatest wight on Albeit ne flattery did corrupt the truth, [ground! Ne pompous title did debauch her ear; Goody, good-woman, n'aunt, forsooth, Or dame, the sole additions she did hear; Yet these she challenged, these she held right dear; Ne would esteem him act as mought behove, Who should not honored eld with these revere; For never title yet so mean could prove, But there was eke a mind that did that title love. One ancient hen she took delight to feed, The plodding pattern of the busy dame ; Which, ever and anon, impelled by need, Into her school, begirt with chickens, came! Such favor did her past deportment claim; And if neglect had lavished on the ground Fragment of bread, she would collect the same, For well she knew, and quaintly could expound, What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she found. [speak, Herbs, too, she knew, and well of each could But herbs for use and physic not a few, The lowly gill, that never dares to climb; Yet euphrasy may not be left unsung, That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around, And pungent radish, biting infant's tongue; And plantain ribbed, that heals the reaper's wound ; And marjoram sweet, in shepherd's posy found; And lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom Shall be erewhile in arid bundles bound, To lurk amid the labors of her loom, [fume. And crown her kerchiefs clean with mickle rare perAnd here trim rosemarine, that whilom crowned The daintiest garden of the proudest peer, Ere, driven from its envied site, it found A sacred shelter for its branches here; [pear. Where edged with gold its glittering skirts apO, wassail days! 0, customs meet and well! Ere this was banished from its lofty sphere; Simplicity then sought this humble cell, Nor ever would she more with thane and lordling dwell. Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve, Hymnéd such psalms as Sternhold forth did mete : If winter 't were, she to her hearth did cleave, How Israel's sons, beneath a foreign king, All for the nonce, untuning every string, Uphung their useless lyres-small heart had they to sing. For she was just, and friend to virtuous lore, And passed much time in truly virtuous deed; And in those elfin ears would oft deplore The times when Truth by Popish rage did bleed, And torturous Death was true Devotion's meed; And simple Faith in iron chains did mourn, That nould on wooden image place her creed ; And lawny saints in smouldering flames did burn; [return! Ah, dearest Lord, forefend thilk days should e'er In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish stem By the sharp tooth of cankering eld defaced, In which, when he receives his diadem, Our sovereign prince and liefest liege is placed, The matron sate, and some with rank she graced (The source of children's and of courtier's pride !), Redressed affronts, for vile affronts there passed; And warned them not the fretful to deride, But love each other dear, whatever them betide. Right well she knew each temper to descry; To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise; Some with vile copper-prize exalt on high, And some entice with pittance small of praise; And other some with baleful sprig she frays; E'en absent, she the reins of power doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways; Forewarned if little bird their pranks behold, "T will whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold. Lo! now with state she utters the command; The work so gay, that on their back is seen, O, ruthful scene! when, from a nook obscure, Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny (If gentle pardon could with dames agree) To her sad grief, which swells in either eye, And wrings her so that all for pity she could die. No longer can she now her shrieks command, And hardly she forbears, through awful fear, To rushen forth, and, with presumptuous hand, To stay harsh Justice in his mid-career. On thee she calls, on thee, her parent dear (Ah! too remote to ward the shameful blow!); She sees no kind domestic visage near, And soon a flood of tears begins to flow, And gives a loose at last to unavailing woe. But, ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace? Or what device his loud laments explain? The form uncouth of his disguised face? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? The plenteous shower that does his cheek distain? When he in abject wise implores the dame, Ne hopeth aught of sweet reprieve to gain; Or when from high she levels well her aim, And through the thatch his cries each falling stroke proclaim. The other tribe, aghast, with sore dismay, Attend, and con their tasks with mickle care; By turns, astonied, every twig survey, And from their fellow's hateful wounds beware, Knowing, I wis, how each the same may share; Till fear has taught them a performance meet, And to the well-known chest the dame repair, Whence oft with sugared cates she doth them greet, And gingerbread y-rare; now, certes, doubly sweet. (This hand in mouth y-fixed, that rends his hair); And eke with snubs profound, and heaving Convulsions intermitting, doth declare [breast, His grievous wrong, his dame's unjust behest; And scorns her offered love, and shuns to be caressed. His face besprent with liquid crystal shines, His blooming face, that seems a purple flower, Which low to earth its drooping head declines, All smeared and sullied by a vernal shower. O, the hard bosoms of despotic Power! All, all but she, the author of his shame, All, all but she, regret this mournful hour; Yet hence the youth, and hence the flower, shall If so I deem aright, transcending worth and fame. And now the grassy cirque han covered o'er A thousand ways in wanton rings they run. Heaven shield their short-lived pastimes, I imFor well may freedom, erst so dearly won, [plore; Appear to British elf more gladsome than the sun. Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade, And chase gay flies, and cull the fairest flowers; For when my bones in grass-green sods are laid, O, never may ye taste more careless hours In knightly castle or in ladies' bowers. O, vain to seek delight in earthly thing! See in each sprite some various bent appear! Some builden fragile tenements of clay; Some to the standing lake their courses bend, With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play; Thilk to the huckster's savory cottage tend, In pastry kings and queens the allotted mite to spend. Here as each season yields a different store, Each season's stores in order rangéd been; Apples with cabbage-net y-covered o'er, Galling full sore the unmoneyed wight, are seen, And goosebrie clad in livery red or green; And here, of lovely dye, the catharine pear, Fine pear, as lovely for thy juice, I ween; O, may no wight e'er penniless come there, Lest, smit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless care. See, cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, With thread so white in tempting posies tied, Scattering, like blooming maid, their glances round, With pampered look draw little eyes asideAnd must be bought, though penury betide; The plum all azure, and the nut all brown ; And here each season do those cakes abide, Whose honored names the inventive city own, Rendering through Britain's isle Salopia's praises known. Admired Salopia! that in venial pride Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient wave, Famed for her loyal cares in perils tried, Her daughters lovely, and her striplings brave : Ah! midst the rest, may flowers adorn his grave Whose art did first these dulcet cates display. A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave, Who cheerless o'er her darkling region stray; Till Reason's morn arise, and light them on their way. 1 Shrewsbury cakes. 2 Salopia, Shrewsbury. Ballads for February. LONGFELLOW'S "VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.” UNDER a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; With large and sinewy hands; His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His brow is wet with honest sweat, And looks the whole world in the face, Week in, week out, from morn till night, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, And children coming home from school They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly He goes on Sunday to the church, He hears the parson pray and preach, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And, with his hard, rough hand, he wipes Thus toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought. MY FATHER. [day. MY good father died at the age of four score, [o'er; Concluding Hymn of Praise. THOMSON'S "HYMN OF THE SEASONS." THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm; Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles; And every sense and every heart is joy. Then comes thy glory in the Summer-months, With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year; Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine, Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train, Yet so delightful mixed, with such kind art, Such beauty and beneficence combined, Shade, unperceived, so softening into shade, And all so forming an harmonious whole, That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand That, ever-busy, wheels the silent spheres ; Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth; And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of life. Nature, attend! join, every living soul Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, In adoration join; and, ardent, raise One general song! To Him, ye vocal gales, Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound, — From world to world, the vital ocean round, The thunder rolls: be hushed the prostrate world; Should fate command me to the farthest verge Come, then, expressive Silence, muse His praise. |