Billeder på siden


Still those around appear d for hope to seek,
But view'd the sick and were afraid to speak.--

Slowly they bore, with solemn step, the dead :
When grief grew loud and bitter tears were shed,
My part began; a crowd drew near the place,
Awe in each eye, alarm in every face;
So swift the ill, and of so fierce a kind,
That fear with pity mingled in each mind;
Friends with the husband came their griefs to blend ;
For good-man Frankford was to all a friend.
The last-born boy they held above the bier,
He knew not grief, but cries express'd his fear;
Each different age and sex reveal'd its pain,
In now a louder, now a lower, strain;
While the meek father, listening to their tones,
Swelld the full cadence of the grief by groans.

The elder sister strove her pangs to hide,
And soothing words to younger minds applied;
“Be still, be patient,” oft she strove to say;
But fail'd as oft, and weeping turn'd away.

Curious and sad, upon the fresh-dug hill,
The village lads stood melancholy still;
And idle children, wandering to and fro,
As Nature guided, took the tone of woe.

From The Parish Register.


Now be their arts display'd, how first they choose
A cause and party, as the bard his muse;
Inspired by these, with clamorous zeal they cry,
And through the town their dreams and omens fly:
So the Sibylline leaves were blown about,
Disjointed scraps of fate involved in doubt;
So idle dreams, the journals of the night,
Are right and wrong by turns, and mingle wrong with

Some, champions for the rights that prop the crown,
Some, sturdy patriots, sworn to pull them down;
Some, neutral powers, with secret forces fraught,
Wishing for war, but willing to be bought :
While some to every side and party go,
Shift every friend, and join with every foe;
Like sturdy rogues in privateers, they strike
This side and that, the foes of both alike.

A traitor crew, who thrive in troubled times,
Fear'd for their force, and courted for their crimes.

Chief to the prosperous side the numbers sail,
Fickle and false, they veer with every gale;
As birds that migrate from a freezing shore,
In search of warmer climes, come skimming o'er,
Some bold adventurers first prepare to try
The doubtful sunshine of the distant sky;
But soon the growing Summer's certain sun
Wins more and more, till all at last are won:
So, on the early prospect of disgrace,
Fly in vast troops this apprehensive race;
Instinctive tribes! their failing food they dread,
And buy, with timely change, their future bread.

Such are our guides: how many a peaceful bed,
Born to be still, have they to wrangling led!
How many an honest zealot stolen from trade,
And factious tools of pious pastors made!
With clews like these they tread the maze of state,
These oracles explore, to learn our fate;
Pleased with the guides who can so well deceive,
Who cannot lie so fast as they believe.

From The Newspaper,


Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose puins, Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gain ; Partners and punctual, every friend agreed, Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed. When they had fix'd some little time in life, Each thought of taking to himself a wife : As men in trade alike, as men in love They seem’d with no according views to move; As certain ores in outward view the same, They show'd their difference when the magnet came. Counter was vain: with spirit strong and high, "Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh: “ His wife might o'er his men and maids preside, And in her province be a judge and guide; But what he thought, or did, or wish d to do, She must not know, or censure if she knew; At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he On aught determined, so it was to be:



How is a man," he ask'd, “ for business fit,
Who to a female can his will submit?
Absent awhile, let no inquiring eye
Or plainer speech presume to question why,
But all be silent; and, when seen again,
Let all be cheerful-shall a wife complain?
Friends I invite, and who shall dare t'object,
Or look on them with coolness or neglect ?
No! I must ever of my house be head,
And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wid.”

Clubb heard the speech—“My friend is nice,” said he;
“A wife with less respect will do for me:
How is he certain such a prize to gain?
What he approves, a lass may learn to feign,
And so affect t' obey till she begins to reign;
A while complying, she may vary then,
And be as wives of more unwary men;
Beside, to him who plays such lordly part,
How shall a tender creature yield her heart?
Should he the promised confidence refuse,

may another more confiding choose;
May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,
And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.
In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?
I on an equal, not a slave, depend;
If true, my confidence is wisely placed,
And being false, she only is disgraced.”

Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around
And one so easy soon a partner found.
The lady chosen was of good repute;
Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute;
Though quick to anger, still she loved to smile ;
And would be calm if men would wait awhile :
She knew her duty, and she loved her way,
More pleased in truth to govern than obey;
She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse
As one who felt the pressure of her vows:
Useful and civil, all her friends confess'd-
Give her her way, and she would choose the best;
Though some indeed a sly remark would make-
Give it her not, and she would choose to take.

All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had spent, He saw, confess'd, and said he was content.

Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh'd,
And then brought home a young complying maid;-
A tender creature, full of fears as charms,
A beauteous nursling from its mother's arms;


A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love,
But to preserve must keep it in the stove :
She had a mild, subdued, expiring look--
Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook ;
Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears
Chide, and she melted into floods of tears;
Fondly she pleaded, and would gently sigh
For very pity, or she knew not why;
One whom to govern none could be afraid-
Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey'd;
Her happy husband had the easiest task-
Say but his will, no question would she ask;
She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew,
Of business spoke not, and had nought to do.

Oft he exclaim'd, “How meek! how mild! how kind!
With her 'twere cruel but to seem unkind;
Though ever silent when I take my leave,
It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve;
"Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell,
I am in raptures to have sped so well;
But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,
No! on my life, your patience has my praise."

His friend, though silent, felt the scorn implied-
“What need of patience?" to himself he cried :
“Better a woman o'er her house to rule,
Than a poor child just hurried from her school;
Who has no care, yet never lives at ease;
Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please;
What if he govern ? there his boast should end,
No husband's power can make a slave his friend."

From Tales.


Sir Hector Blane, the champion of the school,
Was very blockhead, but was form'd for rule:
Learn he could not; he said he could not learn,
But he profess'd it gave him no concern.
Books were his horror, dinner his delight,
And his amusement to shake hands and fight;
Argue he could not, but, in case of doubt,
Or disputation, fairly box'd it out :
This was his logic, and his arm so strong,
His cause pre: ail'd, and he was never wrong;

[ocr errors]

But so obtuse-you must have seen his look,
Desponding, angry, puzzled o'er his book.

Can you not see him on the morn that provedl His skill in figures ? Pluto's self was moved“Come ---six times five ?” th' impatient teacher cried; In vain, the pupil shut his eyes, and sigh'd. “ Try-six times count your fingers; how he stands ! Your fingers, idiot!”-“What, of both my hands ?"

With parts like these his father felt assured, In busy times, a ship might be procured; He too was pleased to be so early freed, He now could fight, and he in time might read. So he has fought, and in his country's cause Has gain'd him glory, and our hearts' applause. No more the blustering boy a school defies, We see the hero from the tyrant rise, And in the captain's worth the student's dulnes: dies.

From Tales q: 7're Hall,


I sought a village priest, my mother's friend,
And I believed with him my days would end:
The man was kind, intelligent, and mild,
Careless and shrewd, yet simple as the child;
For of the wisdom of the world his share
And mine were equal-neither had to spare ;
Else, with his daughters, beautiful and poor
He would have kept a sailor from his door :
Two then were present, who adorn’d his home,
But ever speaking of a third to come;
Cheerful they were, not too reserved or free,
I loved them both, and never wish'd them thrre.



The vicar's self, still further to describe,
Was of a simple, but a studious tribe ;
He from the world was distant, not retired,
Nor of it much possess'd, nor much desired :
Grave in his purpose, cheerful in his eye,
And with a look of frank benignity.
He lost his wife when they together past
Years of calm love, that triumph'd to the last.

« ForrigeFortsæt »