A 699 
 
 IRADFORD LEGENDS. 
 
 BY AWCETK 
 
 ■J8;
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 bradfor: 
 
 jjjj 
 
 u 
 
 ENDS. 
 
 A COLI/SCTION OF 
 
 
 % 
 
 BY STEPHEN FAWCETT, 
 
 Authw of " VTharf&dil: L:;:," "El*? and Bgha," ia, &« 
 
 Methinkfl it wore not much to die, 
 To die and leave behind 
 A spirit in the hearts of men, 
 A voice amid our kind. 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 BRADFORD: 
 r. DENTON, KAOHOT PBXHTIB, BUl-BBIDQS, 
 
 1872,
 
 To 
 MATTHEW WILLIAM THOMPSON, ESQ., 
 
 UPON WHOM, EEADFOED, (HIS NATIVE EOEOU6H), HAS COSFEBBED 
 THE HIGHEST HONOBS IS ITS POTVEE, THIS WOBK IS HUMBLY 
 INSCEIBED B1 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 /5f 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 A few observations on divine romance will be perbaps tbe 
 best preface to a work like tbis. Anything tbat has no toncb 
 ' of tbe finger of romance in it, is saltless and insipid to the 
 mental palate. In romance we project great achievements, — 
 noble deeds are done, — specnlations are founded and reared 
 into what are called aerial castles,— we dwell in palaces and 
 crack wi' kings. Few are aware that those aerials are often 
 realized in the external, and that that which is but an unsub- 
 stantial vision of the present, may be a substantial reaUty of 
 the future. 
 
 Romance is the Eden of the mind — those who have never 
 revelled in it are expelled from Paradise, for it is the beauty 
 of spirit-land — the happiness to come. In the eyes of the 
 wholly practical and unromantic man who seeks only for gain, 
 like the beast that seeks only for food, Salem, Thebez, Athens, 
 and Tadmor, are only bare unsightly moundB, broken columns, 
 and mouldering desolate tombs of the past, to be avoided. But 
 to tbe romantic the clangour of war— the pipe of peace— the voices 
 of the concmeror, the law giver, the sophist, and the poet, are 
 yet heard— the dead lf-buried ruins of magnificence 
 
 erect themselves again in all the glory of their prime. 
 
 Music andsonf; arc but the utterances of the romance of love. 
 Cheerless and cold are the Bonla which hav« no flowers.no 
 ornaments, no gilding within them. Tho mighty power of 
 oratory and all the amoenitiesof civilization are from romance. 
 Scotland, for in M If barren and cold, has become 
 
 n land of the highest interest, beautified and wanned by its 
 histories, memorials, and melodies. We caro not to visit 
 . boo and upstart towns and cities which have not been 
 hallowed and mantli d by U romance of tho past— where men 
 Ion - ivc not left th< ix lbs Iowa on every wall and monu- 
 
 ment — where the mi urn not. 
 
 America and An trali   little romance as yet, but their 
 
 lane, and novelists are bnsy weaving its ma^io 
 
 web. We reck Dot i<> oobe «s we do the 
 
 .1 i. m ::.. :.l the Tweed havo 
 
 greater interest thuu the Yarrayarra or the Orinoco. 
 
 8G18'
 
 IV. 
 
 Our soberest lives themselves assurno a weirdly form in the 
 hnzo of the past, and reality begins to dissolve into the 
 mellowed sadness of unreality. 
 
 The fabled gardens of Alcinous and of Armida are but 
 images of th« aspirations of tho soul, — creations of unfulfilled 
 desires, liko tho heaven of the christians, and the happy 
 hunting grounds of the denizen of the desert. 
 
 History, Biography, Astronomy, and the Narratives of 
 Travellers and Naturalists are dry, insipid, and tiresome, with- 
 out the charm that is found in the inspired language of the 
 poet and novelist, who see romance revealed only to their ken. 
 
 Unfathomable man, the romantic work of the Deity, goeth 
 forth in happy summer and in cheerless winter to reveal to 
 himself by correspondence, the mysteries of the romanco of 
 his being and his love, and returns to his rest in tho hope of 
 its enchantment, in tho visions and dreams of the night. 
 
 S. F. 
 
 *mtmsm^
 
 POEMS. 
 
 THE QUEEN IN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 :o: 
 
 The widowed Queen of mount and main 
 
 Sailed o'er the German sea, 
 In royal yacht with all her train 
 
 For Switeerland the free. 
 
 Haste, Stanley, haste from revelry 
 Imparial Fontaineblean, 
 
 And from Eugenie's witchery, 
 Thou loyal lord and true. 
 
 Thy sovereign chides thy fond delay, 
 
 Nor does she chide in vain ; 
 For soon within her dhatelet 
 
 Thou'rt by her Bide again. 
 
 Stanlv.y. 
 
 What, still in silent grief, my Queen, 
 
 In the glorious land oi Tell, 
 Whi ■: now wavei hei olive grei d 
 
 O't-r fields where tyranta fell? 
 
 Lo, yonder Magnates high from Eeme, 
 
 Ac I !i .'i oi 
 And the bold battalions of Lucerne 
 
 Awake the northern drum ; 
 
 Anl see my Qn< ms 
 
 Her offerio fa at thy Bhrine, 
 Their iii ambition's snmmdz dreams 
 
 I;, held as ball divino. 
 
 Wi of day, 
 
 Thy haniiers wave thy | entle Bway 
 Lut bounded by the poles,
 
 Then why in silent grief, my Queen, 
 
 In the glorious land of Tell, 
 Where freedom's brand is still as keen 
 
 As when Burgundia fell? 
 
 The Queen. 
 
 Hold, Stanley, hold ! In " Vesper hymrj," 
 
 And "Ranz des vaches " song, 
 I only hear the voice of him, 
 
 Of him I've mourned so long. 
 
 Stanley. 
 
 O'er Righi's snows the eagle sails, 
 
 Olympian splendours see ; 
 There are a thousand nightingales 
 
 In Val di Chamounix ; 
 
 The orange bloom is in the light, 
 The Alps with rose tints shine ; 
 
 And yonder dancing are the bright 
 Young Nereiads of the Rhine ; 
 
 Sweet Belgium's Queen to thee shall sing, 
 Shall strew thy couch with flowers, 
 
 And England's matrons' blessings wing, 
 To speed the golden hours. 
 
 Take cheer of heart my liege ladyc, 
 
 Restrain thy sorrows' flow ; 
 Thine is not Helle's Niobe, 
 
 Nor childless Rachel's woe. 
 
 Thy children fondly round thee cling, 
 
 A fair and princely throng, 
 To happier climes thy Consort-king 
 Shall welcome thee ere long. 
 
 The Queen. 
 
 Stanley, my throne's vast height I know, 
 
 And all conspire to cheer ; 
 And the rays of heaven would gild my brow 
 
 If Albert were but here. 
 
 Away ! My British bugles blow, 
 
 Away my royal train ; 
 My sovereign duty calls, and ho I 
 
 For Albion's hills again.
 
 A DREAM OF PEEL PARK. 
 
 :o:- 
 
 I dreamt, and, behold, in the car of Queen Mab, 
 
 I was borne to a beautiful glade, 
 Weird and elfin and sheen, pearly golden and green, 
 
 Where I walked with my favourite maid. 
 The wind piped a tune from the note-book of June, 
 
 And the fountains and rivulets sighed ; 
 And the young linnet flew round the linden and yew, 
 
 Singing sweetly, in search of his bride. 
 
 The classic acanthus and old polyanthus 
 
 On tiptoe, with sunflowers, sprang ; 
 To the throstle, the lark, over lovely Peel Park, 
 
 High, exulting in heaven's vault, sang. 
 
 " My beloved is true, but is far, far away, 
 
 Over yonder blue hills of the morn," 
 Sighed an exotic bright, as a butterfly white 
 
 Fanned and pitied the exile lovelorn. 
 From each flower sprang a nymph of the clime of her birth, — 
 
 There were nymphs from Columbia there, 
 From the Nile's burning land, and from far Samarcand, 
 
 And from dreamy Cathay and Cashmeer. 
 
 There came fairies from Bowling, and houris from Horton, 
 
 And witches from Manningham lea ; 
 There were Psyche and Zoe, and Daphne and Chloe, 
 
 And an elfin queen's lovers levee. 
 
 And the sun hung his robe of red gold on the banks, 
 
 Till tlf imperial moon came up fair, 
 In her brighi maiden zone ; but sho came not alono 
 
 In her March for Endymion there. 
 
 And the lilac and golden laburnum shook hands 
 
 With the sorrow-born oypress to 
 And the breeze kissed tho bowers, and the bees kissed the flowers 
 
 And Swcctwillinm kissed Rosamarie. 
 
 But the winds, warblers, fountains, and leaflets were- hushed, 
 
 As the elfin from the grove : 
 
 11 Weary Bradford, n from terrestrial oan, 
 
 And hero keep thy ledger of lo\ 
 
 I awoke, but the glamour Htill shadowed my soul, 
 
 And 'twas I 
 For I still b lark orer bonny Peel Park, 
 
 Still I walko 1 with my favourite mail.
 
 A ROYAL HYMENEAN. 
 
 Heard yo the news that came the morn, 
 Royalty weds the Lord o' Lorn ; 
 Inverary will husk her braw, 
 Mutchkins o' mountain dew will fa', 
 Mull will roar wi' a milder strain, 
 Skye and Iona grow green again ; 
 Wingless honuets will fly in the clan, 
 Nauo sae hlythe as the Highlandman. 
 
 What has he whisper'd in beauty's lug ? 
 Had he the Cupid's cantrip drug ? 
 Spoke he o' deeds o' the olden time, 
 Sung he in Gaelic or Lowland rhyme ? 
 Kent he the weird o' spacwife's gah, 
 Reach for an apple an' no for a crab ? 
 Hearts never faint in the Camphell clan, 
 Bold is the raid of the Highlandman. 
 
 Southern lords hae rich domains, 
 Southern earls hae fertile plains, 
 Southern dukes are proud and great, 
 High on the cliff is the Campbell's seat. 
 He wons with the eagle in glen and ravine, 
 Then boo did he woo an' hoo did he win ? 
 Proud are the hearts of the Campbell clan, 
 Germans will squint at the Highlandman. 
 
 The bonniest bud of the rose has sworn 
 Hei troth to the Lord o' the Isles o' Lorn ; 
 She comes to the land o' the tartan kilt, 
 To the castle by Morvcns heroes built ; 
 She comes to the lilt, to the pibroch's din, 
 But hoo did the laddie the princess win ? 
 Ask an' ye will guess an' ye can, 
 Ye kenna the spunk o' a Highlandman. 
 
 Goody ye've bakit the bannocks tho noo, 
 Doon wi' your knitting and taits o' woo. 
 Don your new plaidie and kurtchy braw, 
 Jenny is wining wi' Rab to the ha' ; 
 
 lint at the wench will be good for the een, 
 Her bairniea will hae for their grannie a Queen. 
 The pluck o' a Scot is nae flash in the pan, 
 There's luck in the lot o' the Highlandman.
 
 9 
 
 THE BARON OF BIERLEY HALL. 
 
 :o: 
 
 When the forest full dressed in its cymar of green, 
 
 Heard the ringdove and partridge's call, 
 Will Scarlett, disguised as a crusader old, 
 
 Grey-bearded, and burly and tall, 
 Blew a blast on tho horn at the barbican gate 
 
 Of the Baron of Bierlcy Hall. 
 " Now what is thy will," growled the seneschal rough, 
 
 Coming here at the dusk of the eve?" 
 A cup of small ale and a bed for the night, 
 
 1 >\ the Baron of Bierley's leave ; 
 For the sake of the blest holy rood thou wilt not 
 
 A poor pilgrim from Palestine grieve." 
 " Come in now, come in," said the Baron, " my frere ; 
 
 And thy tale I will presently hear. 
 But what hast thou got in the bag at thy back ?" 
 
 " 'Tis a rebeck, my lord, that I bear.'' 
 " Then ^ r ive me a fytte," quoth the Baron, well pleas'd, 
 
 And I warrant thee lodging and cheer !" 
 
 The Baron a fair daughter smiled pleasantly on, 
 
 And I I Will's troubadour song ; 
 
 'Twas thu strain she had rambled the greenwood to hear, 
 
 From a known and right mnsi nr ; 
 
 Ai 1 her neck match'd the ruby that bnrn'd in her hair, 
 
 And liti- gaze was keen-searching and long. 
 "Now tell me thy talc of King Richard's bold deeds, 
 
 Ami Ascalon's Paynims afar : 
 My d ivi pledged to a crusader knight, 
 
 Noble, obi, : iled by war." 
 
 And the Baron drank sack as a noblei ould 
 
 i • : it look'd down with her star. 
 
 At length in bis revel the Baron bi 
 
 To qo 1 -: !'. '■! ; 
 
 .in lid's willing ear 
 
 Wil ily poured ; 
 
 And iud liim 
 
 And to   ii'd. 
 
 call ; 
 he found out thu away 
 
 With tl d tail ; 
 
 display 
 Vi the Baron of Bierley Hall,
 
 10 
 TUB BARON OF BIERLEY HALL. 
 
 PAKT SECOND. 
 
 Bierlet's barou sat sad and forlorn, 
 
 His daughter abducted and gone, 
 When a conjurer blew a loud mot at his gate, 
 
 And begged in mysterious tone 
 To spell him his rede and forwani him his weird 
 
 Ere his star's benign aspect was gone. 
 
 " Come in, friend, come in," roared the baron in wrath, 
 
 " At least I've no daughter to lose, 
 Read me soothly her fate, or with tough ashen staff 
 
 All the bones in thy carcase I'll bruse." 
 " Thy threats I disdain," quoth the conjurer bold, 
 
 For I deal not in charlatan ruse." 
 
 Then slowly he lifted his magical wand, 
 And pointed east, west, north, and south, 
 
 And the baron looked grave upon seeing his book 
 And his figures unknown and uncouth. 
 
 Three notes on his bugle the conjurer blew, 
 Shaii) and shrill, as if blown by a youth. 
 
 Instantly coming from copse, wood, and bush, 
 
 Full a hundred tall archers were seen, 
 And a knight in blight harness rode boldly in front, 
 
 With a lady and page at his rein, 
 And soon they all stood at the barbican gate, 
 
 Knight and lady, and bowmen in green. 
 
 " Go forth, thou bold baron, go presently forth, 
 
 For yonder stands Lincoln's proud son, 
 De Lacy, of Bradford and Horton the heir, 
 
 And of Alnwick, both tower and town ; 
 Thy Cicely now is his beautiful bride. 
 
 So lately abducted and gone." 
 
 Then up went the baron's big hand, and he smote 
 
 On his buck-leather breeches a smack, 
 Knocked his seneschal down for a sturdy old churl, 
 
 With a heavy and terrible thwack, 
 And his beni/.on gave to the conjurer, by 
 
 A huge sledge-hammer slap on his back. 
 
 " Come in, now, come in," called the baron aloud, 
 
 " Heave up the portcullis and gate, 
 Mj daughter is welcome, with husband and train, 
 
 For I trow she has changed her mate,
 
 11 
 
 And her knight cannot be the grey-bearded old knave, 
 With his cozening mnsic and prate." 
 
 Then in marched Will Stukeley and Adam and Hutch, 
 
 Friar Tuck and young Allan a dale, 
 And Little John burly with cudgel in hand, 
 
 That had oft made his enemies quail ; 
 And the baron, amazed, marked the bowmen all bend 
 
 To the conjurer ancient and pale. 
 
 " Now, what is thy name," asked the baron, in doubt, 
 
 " That the yeomen all bend and obey, 
 Tell me sooth, and a hundred gold nobles are thine, 
 
 For thy wonderful magic to-day." 
 " I am y'clcped Robin Hood, I am Huntingdon's earl, 
 
 And in merry green Sherwood I stay." 
 
 " Set abroach every barrel of berry brown ale, 
 
 Fill the quaighs for the foresters all, 
 Stay and dine, my bold fellow, and shake the old roof 
 
 With thy bully boys proper and tall." 
 And the nobles drank sack as all noblemen should, 
 
 With the Baron of Bierley Hall. 
 
 A LEGEND OF POPE GREGORY YIII. 
 
 TnE raving wind and hurtling shower, 
 In tin- hurricane's most dismal hour 
 
 Of mountain- wrath, roared hideously ; » 
 When in hie cell, oi 
 To pL ild denii d, 
 
 c tli«' lom ied, 
 
 Mu-. '1 the yon il Gxego 
 
 Suddenly hi rand wor< 
 
 " A Ion's lords 
 
 Tin in vain 
 
 Lift 
 Lone i   ■•' d, oold and ha 
 
 Wl 
 
 • 
 
 " • i ['Ulead— 
 
 id — 
 
 I'll seek tin rid once mole !
 
 12 
 
 Away, yo lying volumes all ! 
 Givo ine the gorgeous palace hall, 
 Where varied joys aud pleasures call, 
 From banquet room to lady's bower !" 
 
 His lamp flared blue — his fire burned low, 
 Care brooded on his gloomy brow, 
 
 Weird fancies mocked his troubled mind ; 
 When screams rose on the furious breezo, 
 And laughs that caused his blood to freeze, 
 And oaths and broken sentences 
 
 Mixed wildly with the angry wind. 
 
 Yet Gregory feared not, for his soul 
 Was brave — his head in danger cool. 
 
 The blast dashed ope his little door ; 
 In walked a form with haughty stride, 
 Mirk as the night : with mien of pride, 
 And wondering Gregory fiercely eyed, 
 
 And stood before him on the floor. 
 Now Gregory seize thy beads and book, 
 There's something in that stranger's look 
 
 May mortal courage put to proof ! 
 He spoke — " I come a friendly guest, 
 Why here dost idly musing rest, 
 And lose young years the brightest, best, 
 
 Unloved boneath this wretched roof ? 
 " Accept this cloak — its every fold 
 Was woven by bald priests of old, 
 
 In cloistered gloom and mystery ; 
 Throw its dark folds about thy limbs — 
 Ne'er do it off — in it sing hymns, 
 Wake, sleep, or perpetrate thy crimes — 
 
 The garmont's named Hypocrisy. 
 
 " Look yonder !" — Gregory turned his eye, 
 And, towering to Italia's sky, 
 
 Tho Vatican and seven-hilTd Rome 
 Arose in blue infernal light. — 
 " Down, Gregory, kneel, adore my might ; 
 Aud more than rises to thy sight 
 la thine — for I can give the right — 
 
 The Pontiff's crown shall thine become I" 
 
 That cloak Avernian, Gregory took, 
 And knelt. — The hill beneath him shook ; 
 The arch-fiend laughed and disappear'd. 
 The hermit left his lonely cell,
 
 13 
 
 Of grace bereft and school'd by hell, 
 And went in cities fair to dwell 
 And saint and sage to kings appeared. 
 
 Anon, where Tiber laves his strand 
 In old Ausonia's tawny land, 
 
 Pope Gregory's three tiaras blaze, 
 And inonarchs tremble at his scowl, 
 And nations pale as thundering roll 
 
 His bullas and anathemas. 
 
 THE WILD BOAR OF BRADFORD. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 The wild boar of Bradford was huge and immense, 
 No woodman could turn him with cudgel or fence ; 
 He rooted up trees, trampled down corn and cole, 
 Ripp'd oxen and horses and swallow'd them whole ; 
 He ate up an apple wife, tough, old and tall, 
 And crunch'd up her wheelbarrow, trundle and all. 
 
 Boar-hounds were useless, he snapp'd them up quick ; 
 For gripes, spears and arrows his bide was too thick. 
 On a Capuchin friar he one morn broke his fast, 
 And the monks of St. Peter's stood staring aghast, 
 And concluded to send for St. Dunstan divine, 
 For the demon again had got into a swine. 
 
 Down came the blacksmith with hammer and tongs, 
 
 To settle with Satan for manifold wrongs ; 
 
 Holy water in blessed Banctgraal ho got, 
 
 And his crosier toot in bia perilous plot ; 
 
 For Bpinkwel] he hurri< d, and when he came there, 
 
 Found tho brawn, unsuspecting, asleep in his lair. 
 
 The first thint,' he did was to spill from sanctgraal, 
 Holy wet on his tasks, and his ears, and Lis tail, 
 Thrust his crosier, as 'tw< re but a oonunon oole runt, 
 In his stern end, and u]p woke the boar with b "runt 
 And 11 y 1 1 1 , startling deer upon Wibsey's wild Black, 
 And fled with St. Dunstan, like knighl on his b 
 
 IT' kick'd, snort) d, gambol'd, leap'd, gallop'd, and ran, 
 But with hammer and tongs Dnnstao sat like a man ; 
 T i dislodge bis bold rider, through thorn, brake, and bush, 
 Through dingle and dell he made dart, start and rush,
 
 14 
 
 Through Shipley's dense wood, and up Eldwiok's glen made, 
 Snorting, screaming, and grunting, nor slackened nor stayed. 
 
 A hunter by Sampson's old thorn saw them pass, 
 
 Tongs in hand, holy Dunstan was singing a mass, 
 
 And the ghost of Tom Rumbalds sat on his stone chair, 
 
 At the bristling steed and his rider to glare ; 
 
 No saddle had Dunstan, no bridle's weak thongs, 
 
 But with hammer and tongs ho rode — hammer and tongs. 
 
 On his nightmare a grim rider joined them in black, 
 
 And a BOWgelder's horn .winded loud in the track ; 
 
 Helter skelter the bargheist and bandogs are out, 
 
 Old Laucha's bogs quale' d with demoniac shout ; 
 
 Dnnstan's brawn kept the load, grunting, foaming, and quick, 
 
 All sunk in the hollow of Whinney-i'th-nick ! 
 
 From that day to this, in the hill-tempest's clamour, 
 May be heard the loud ring of a stithy and hammer ; 
 And 'tis given out by shepherds, among other tales, 
 That St. Dunstan is sharpening Sathanas his nails, 
 And his horns and his pitchfork, to win with more ease, 
 A duello wager with John of Kirklees. 
 
 THE BLACK DUEL OF KIRKLEES. 
 
 " Barney bang'd Bauagher and Banaghei bang'd the D 1." 
 
 Ghostly, unctuous, and holy, sat John at his ease, 
 Awaiting bis foe in the church of Kirklees ; 
 Sacred wine down his gullet with gusto ho dribbled, 
 And oft at some bread consecrated he nibbled, 
 When a flunking he heard in the Abbey's dark nave, 
 And smelt brimstone-fumes mix'd with stench of the grave, 
 And hastily rising th' intruder to see- 
 Met Sati D who made him a haughty congee. 
 
 " Sit down," said stout John, " state the mode of our duel, 
 For war has its laws, be it ever so cruel ; 
 
 Priap and imp stand aside for the nonce, 
 Choose thy weapons and let us go at it at once !" 
 tan, " the weapons are three I delight in, 
 Then- invention I claim— tippling, gambling, and fighting." 
 
 " I accept all the three, and first, Gambling, said John ; 
 " Here are dice — t h ike them up — I have loaded not onc. # 
 Fifty souls, if I win, purgatorial pains 
 Shall escape, and mine own is thy prize if thou gains." 
 " It is settled," quoth Satan, loud rattling tho cup, 
 " And remember, my friend, it is forty of up."
 
 15 
 
 As they play'd, round them corpse-lights tmrned red, white, 
 
 and blue, 
 And the abbey's ghosts gather'd the black game to view ; 
 With confidence Jobn rattled, tumbled and toss'd, 
 And Satan play'd, grinning and swearing,— and lost ; 
 And, stamping his club-foot, his pitchfork he shook, 
 And John his oak sapling courageously took. — 
 
 " Have at thee !" cried he, and let fly at his head, 
 
 And Satan fell down with the blow as if dead ; _ 
 
 One horn and his pitchfork were broken in twain, 
 
 He'd been brain'd (had he brains), and he bellow'd with pain : 
 
 " I'll give in !" he roar'd out, " thou hast well won this bout, 
 
 Thy quaterstaff drop, and the bottle bring out." 
 
 Then- measures were equal, the vintage the same, 
 They gulped equal draughts, and sung songs at the game ; 
 And they boozed seven hours, until Satan, unable 
 To drink any more, tumbled under the table — 
 But woke in a trice, and exclaimed, " I am done — 
 Take the souls, and be d— d to thy pluck, Prior John !" 
 Quoth John, " from henceforth never monk will be found, 
 But at all these three games will hold stoutly his ground. 
 Shake hands, my old beauty !" and seizing his foe, 
 Crush'd his claws till he wine'd, and then, laughing, let go ; 
 '• I will tell thee," said he, the " true cause of thy foil, 
 I greased my hands well with some thrice holy oil." 
 Papa Satan look' d jack-knives, his blue cheeks inflated, 
 Strode his wing'd old red dragon and absquatulated. 
 
 JOAN OF ARC. 
 
 Joan of Arc. railed also r.n Puoelle nn.l the Maid oi . «ss n 
 
 ppnsont trirl of Domriini, in Lorraine, who in 1h<- disastrous -tnte of 
 
 u of Henry V. variolic 
 
 I trleons, on 
 
 which thi ''" English. 
 
 si,,. , and afterwards had 
 
 Oharlea solemnly erown< d a1 Bhi 
 
 TriK arrow whistled <>Yr the trench, the ramparts blazing blue, 
 i> ith's volleying iron thunder belched, and murder's missiles 
 
 Bi w ; 
 Old Orleans trembled to her base, as i teel 
 
 l h'd ruddily mid cannons roar and huge balista's peal— 
 r mid the dm proud Talbot cried, "GH ' for 
 
 drfring on, 
 
 A hostile army comes !" nor dreamt of fierce Domrcmi Joan.
 
 16 
 
 Resistless, as down Alpino heights the avalanches crash, 
 
 On reeking chargers galloping through serried spears they dash, 
 
 " Say, whoso is yon grand form in mail," asked Talbot, turning 
 
 pale;" 
 " He rides as if his horse was borne on fierce tornado gale ;" 
 His captains dccru'd, but durst not say, Saint Denis had come 
 
 down 
 To head the chivalry of France, but 'twas Domremi Joan. 
 
 A moment, and bold Talbot's sword was broken to the hilt, 
 A moment, and a cataract of English blood was spilt ; 
 A moment, and then- shatter'd files for safety rodo and ran 
 Before that bright bold leader's lance, careering in the van. 
 " A woman !" cried the officers, and Talbot heaved a groan, 
 " Death ! shall I for a woman fly ?" but 'twas Domremi Joan. 
 
 From Orleans' granite battlements the people saw afar 
 
 The English host beleaguering bend before the storm of war ; 
 
 The mother holding up her child, cried, " See, my lov'd one, 
 
 see! 
 Our foes disperse like Arden's deer, and La belle France is free !" 
 Proud Talbot cross'd the sea em-aged, and nearly all alone, 
 Like lion foil'd by maiden's hand,— Domremi's mighty Joan. 
 
 Forth from the city noble lord and knight, and high-born dame, 
 To meet that wondrous woman in grand procession came. 
 With oriflamme unfurl'd, behold the Royal Charles advance, 
 As drum and trumpet heralded the prodigy of France ; 
 lie led the maid through regal halls, he led her to his throne, 
 And princes bent then haughty crests before Domremi Joan. 
 
 JOAN OF ARC. 
 
 Joan of Ar<\ othorwiso La Pucelle, was taken hy the party of the 
 DuV» <>f Burgundy and Bold to the English, who, after the formality of 
 a trial, burnt hor alive an a witch in 1431 , aged about 20 years. 
 
 The death-stake was ready, the faggots were piled, 
 The <-haunt of the monks rising woful and wild, 
 Bed flambeaux around shed a baleful dead light ; 
 And star-spangles studded the dome of the night 
 When Warwick on horseback in hauberk and plumo 
 Commanded fair Joan to be led to her doom. 
 
 ner robe painted over with demons and flames, 
 
 Was labelled with " witch," " hag," and other foul names, 
 
 Bent down like the lily, bedew'd with its toars,
 
 17 
 
 She hid her wan face with her sbame and her fears : 
 Bound fast with rude hands in old damp rusted chaii S, 
 The blood started blue to her delicate veins. 
 
 On a throne, flashing gold, sat the Legate of Rome, 
 "With pennon and cross looming dim in the gloom, 
 "While cries of " Die sorceress" rose from the throng 
 Of thousands above the bald Carmelites' Bong ; 
 And the faggots were fired, when a thunderclap brcke 
 Overhead with the first cm-ling column of smoke. 
 
 The " cynosure"* blazed and enlarg'd in the north, 
 
 And with lightning a chariot of silver sent forth, 
 
 Rushing down through the blue like a meteor it came, 
 
 And the firea of its axles streak'd heaven with flame ; 
 
 Its rider the Virgin — One flash of her i 
 
 Quench'd the pile and struck prostrate the guards standing by. 
 
 "Hail victrix," she Baid, and she caught the Pucelle, 
 In her arms — and her anklets and manacles fell, 
 And the maiden unharm'd up to heaven she bore-, 
 And the "cynosure" opened and closed as before ( 
 A miracle ! shouted the Legate and train, 
 A miracle! thunder'd the people again, 
 When a blind Bradford heretic's voice from the crowd, 
 ("Twas Hugo de Lacy's) roar'd "Well I'll be blow'd." 
 
 A LEGEND OF KXARESBRO' FOREST. 
 
 ••Where art thou going, sweet shepherdess, 
 Where art thou going so early?" 
 
 •• My flocks I feed in Bavarah's mead, 
 When dew is Bhining clearly." 
 
 " Drop of dew or starry blue 
 r knew such beauty ; 
 H ivarah's maid I came t<> wed, 
 B ' lore has conquer'd duty." 
 
 ■• Ride on, ride on, l>< Lacy bold, 
 I trust no traitorous lover ; 
 
 M . I o   d< •• • • r< Bhame to tliee, 
 ir tlioii art a rover!" 
 
 " Lord 1 1 child I will not w< d, 
 
 en I've swurn already ; 
 
 • i . north fctar, 
 a
 
 18 
 
 Of castle, town, and dale and down, 
 Thou only shalt be lady." 
 
 11 Ride on, ride on !" she archly cried, 
 
 " For I soothly vow and fairly, 
 No shepherdess shalt thou caress, 
 
 Should'st love, and e'er so dearly : 
 
 Lord Dacre is a gruesome carle, 
 
 To ruth and fear a stranger ; 
 But wizards say love hears no Nay — 
 
 Be thine the shame and danger !" 
 
 He merrily placed her on his steed, 
 
 Tripp'd like a page beside her, 
 And with glancing stream, and clcwdrop beam, 
 
 Merrily glanced the rider. 
 
 He placed her on his palfrey proud, 
 
 And sought a hermit's dwelling, 
 Where, kneeling, he in sanctity 
 
 His rosary was telling. 
 
 The hermit rose and wedded them, 
 
 O'er holy missal bending ; 
 Sweet strains of love from Havarah's, grovo 
 
 On morning's wings ascending. 
 
 Thou art beguiled," cried the shepherdess, 
 
 As in his arms he caught her, 
 " Thy oath and word arc broke, false lord, 
 
 I am Lord Dacre's daughter !" 
 
 De Lacy ga/.ed, confused, amazed, 
 
 Upon the lovely speaker ; 
 And the captive now was led to bow 
 
 Before the great Lord Dacre. 
 
 AUMOUSCLIFFE : A EOMAUNT. 
 
 AnmousclifTe, or Almscliff, is ono of the most lioantiful objects in 
 Wharfi'liili', being crowned as it were with a roekj diadem and contain- 
 ing a subterranean passage leading, a some of the neighbouring villagers 
 believe, into the regions of fairyland. It ia well deserving a Tisitfrom 
 the lovers of naturul romance. 
 
 'Twas the hour when in Riffa the fallow-deer hide, 
 
 And "Washburn forms cascade and linn, 
 That De Lacy alono with his bright virgin bride 
 A portal espied upon AumouscUH's side, 
 
 And a varlet, who bid them walk in.
 
 19 
 
 " Whose servitor, then ?" qnoth De Lacy, " I pray, 
 
 For I ken but a gateway and thee." 
 " 'Tis the fairy king's palace : his daughter to clay 
 In marriage he gives to an Indian fay, 
 
 And invites you the spousals to see." 
 " Lead on," said De Lacy, " I long for the sight," 
 
 And the door opened wide with a bang, 
 And a vast pillar'd liall full of spangles of light, _ 
 Blazed round them with garlands and jewels bedight. 
 
 And eldritch wild laughter peals rang. 
 To dances of fauns, afrits, elfins burlesque, 
 
 Played fifty horned pipers in green ; 
 Do Lacy they honoured with greetings grotesque, 
 And high on a dais of gold arabesque 
 
 King Oberon sate with his queen. 
 In the presence, with crown of flame spiral, bright red, 
 
 Stood the Monarch of India's son ; 
 And the king's blushing daughter before him was led, 
 In mirth, song, and music the marriage rite sped, 
 Then off like B flash, on their wedding tour fled 
 
 The pair to see old " Prcster John.'' 
 Then the king raised his wand, and the silence, to tear 
 
 His majesty's best, was profound ; 
 And he spoke, as he lifted his goblet in fiir, 
 " From my cup never drained drink a health to the fair — 
 
 Drink wisdom, and let it go round." 
 Round and round biri'd the bowl, till its circuit was made, 
 
 And Do Lacy drank dei p with his bride ; 
 And the palace was gone, and they found themselves laid 
 In each other's embrace, in a witch-hazel's shade, 
 
 (Jpon haunted old AnmonsolifTs side. 
 A bugle's wild blast in green Riffa they heard, 
 
 Ami arose at the soul- fdrring sound ; 
 An I a full score of nobles and damsels appeared, 
 An 1 In iv Lord Dacre the barony oheen A 
 
 With halloos unto falcon and bound. 
 
 DE I.A< 
 To Chaslbb TruNKR, Esq., Idlb. 
 
 Childe Roland (■■ tl 
 Hi. word till ' I ee, f", funi, 
 
 i lish m hi. "- En   l.f AR. 
 
 iii I B1 1" «ii fir My. — Li. S\v. 
 
 1   • .'.hen William's n 
 
 ' uc clinking o'er from Mormandy,
 
 20 
 
 A castle stood in upland glen, 
 
 Where goblins held high revelry. 
 The snn rose there with drowsy eyes, 
 
 In morning robes of misty grey, 
 And took night's lanthorn from the skies, 
 
 And yawning ask'd the time o' day ? 
 Bleep and sloth chain'd young and old, 
 
 Clowns with owls would wink and sit ; 
 The lazy Aire beneath it roll'd, 
 
 And Bradford calls it Idle* yet. 
 De Lacy to that dark tower came, 
 
 Where dwelt the Lady Ermiuie : 
 Ten Saxon knights of stalwart frame, 
 
 Had fallen by her sorcery. 
 Three hung themselves on cornel tree, 
 
 Three widows box'd three others' cars, 
 Transmogrified to beer casks three, 
 
 And one dissolved away in tears. 
 De Lacy, curtal axe in hand, 
 
 Bang'd boldly on the castle gate, 
 And in he stalk'd with dag and brand, — 
 
 A bell toll'd— dead lights' hurried fate. 
 
 Ten mailed forms stood round the hall, 
 
 Like trophies in an armoury ; 
 Each clashed his arms as rung his call 
 
 " Lead me to Lady Erminie.'-' 
 
 In tone sepulchral outspoke one ; 
 
 " Our lady sleeps within her bower; 
 One errant knight, her demons own, 
 
 Can disenchant her pagan tower. 
 
 That knight alone may kiss her lip, 
 And break her magic wand and spell; 
 
 But if he fears its dew to sip — 
 He dies." Bang! olang'd again the bell. 
 
 Bars clash'd, and iron doors flew back, — 
 A shining dragon near hiin stood; 
 
 Turrets tremble, pillars crack, 
 Danger cools not gentle blood. 
 
 There was a smack — no dragon hiss'd, 
 But changed its form, and strange to seo, 
 
 The monster's lip the knight had kiss'd, 
 Was own'd by Lady Erminie. 
 * A small town near Bradford, Yorks.
 
 21 
 
 All honour to the Norman knight, 
 Who won the lady and her dower 
 
 All honour to the hrave in fight, 
 And gallant in a lady's bower. 
 
 DE LACY. 
 
 . r the De Laeies there undoubtedly existed here (i.e., in Hall 
 In gs, Bradford u castle or casileu- James s Jliitory of Bradford. 
 
 De Lacy rode forth to the wars of the north, 
 
 To 6et the hill. bonn< ts in order ; 
 And a troth he received and a lady helieved 
 
 Ere he followed the drum o'er the border. 
 
 Scotch limbs he contused, and got battered and brused 
 
 By moss-troopers, raider?, and rievers ; 
 In alrirmiari he fought, and withstood the onslaught 
 
 Of fierce elans, with their claymores and cleavers. 
 
 But his crown got a clour, when the blood of the flower 
 
 Of broad Scotland to puddle was trodden, 
 When J irlde of bis chivalry died 
 
 In the terrible battle of Flodi 
 
 Then of sowens and jannocks, cold orowdy and bannocks 
 And kebbneke and drnmmoi try, 
 
 He with noble and train came to England again, 
 Over peat-hag and wilderness dreary. 
 
 It wa-   i he came to the tower of the dame 
 
 Whose glove in his b< Lmei he'd oarried. 
 si igh, 
 
 •■ i),- Lac; I I'm mai ried I" 
 
 Fainl be turned, and his Lot inly mourned, 
 And toi I or sad word ; 
 
 Fearful bU< ept, drank a ornisekin and slept 
 In hi ; . adford. 
 
 Did last leap, 
 
 I ,it death in i 
 Or in hermitage quiet a 
 
 nmed With withy and willow? 
 
 he murmur I I air, 
 
 -it in the sulks with I   rf 
 
 risible knight) 
 
 Went to Court to look out for uuoth
 
 '2 2 
 
 PITY POOR BRADFORD. 
 
 This ghost story 1ms been given in the " Genuine Account," namely, 
 that the Earl of Newcastle being in bed at Bowling Hall, an apparition 
 appeared to him and importuned him with these words: — "Pity poor 
 Bradford'' — "Pity poor Bradford." Newcastle 1 having charged his men 
 to kill all— man, woman, and child— in the town, and give them Bradford 
 quarter, for the brave Karl of Newporfs sake.— James's History of 
 Uraaj'ord. . 
 
 Her bright silver arrow Diana shot down, 
 Over leaguering army, and terror-struck town, 
 
 Through the casement of Adela's bower ; 
 Where lovely but wan as the snow on the hill, 
 Or the lily storm-smit on the verge of the rill, 
 
 She won'd in the wind-beaten tower. 
 
 " Haste thee, Mysie, my tire-maid ! 'tis late, girl, 'tis late 
 My bridegroom is ready — he knocks at the gate — 
 
 Tbe hour of my bridal is near — 
 My bracelets, my cincture, my coronet gay, 
 Gold, ruby, and diamond, shall deck my array, 
 
 For the sake of young Newport, my dear." 
 
 Her bower-woman shuddered in fear and dismay ? 
 "Dear lady," she rnurmur'd, "bethink thee, I pray, 
 
 In the chapel ho lies cold and dead." 
 " It is false, simple maid, he surviv'd the dread fight, 
 The banquet is waiting, the cressets shine bright, 
 Tho minstrels arc ready with music's delight, 
 
 Seek thy pallet and be not afraid." 
 
 In the stillness of night Newcastle saw with affright 
 His curtains withdrawn in the ghastly moonlight, 
 
 And a phantom as ghastly and paje, 
 With a zone round its breast and with arm and head tires 
 Flasbing, burning and ruddy, with circling fires, 
 And a wimple of mist for a veil. 
 
 Willi bis heart in bis throat the Earl gasp'd "What art thou, 
 Disturber of rest ?" As the windliarp's tone low, 
 
 As a seraph's sweet accents he heard, 
 "Pity poor Bradford!" in suppliant strain — 
 "Pity poor Bradford!" more piteous agahi — 
 
 And the vision in gloom disappear'd. 
 
 Ere the daystar arose upon camp and vidctte, 
 Kose the Earl with command for an instant retreat, 
 
 And tbe tongue that but yesterday sworo 
 Bradford quarter to all the doom'd town should be given
 
 23 
 
 Was false and foresworn unto vengeance and heaven 
 
 And Newport was left in his gore ! 
 But Bowling's dim hulls heard a cry and a wail, 
 In the chapel two corpses lay silent and pale ; 
 
 Lady Adela, trimm'd like a hride, 
 In the stiffen'd embrace of young Newport the brave, 
 Lay awaiting her nuptial couch in the grave 
 
 \Vith her hero to sleep by her side. 
 
 ST. CRISPIN AND OLD NICK. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Hob Crispin sat whacking a sole on his stall, 
 
 Then threw down his sole, hammer, lapstonc and awl ; 
 
 The hot sultry weather caused sweat drops to roll— 
 
 " That the Dule," he exclaimed, " had both lapstone and sole !' 
 
 Old Nick, hearing this, in his studio below, 
 
 Rose, presto, to see what the dale was to do. 
 
 He stood before Crispin, with tail over arm ; 
 "Good morn I" greeted he, " Yon appear rather warm, 
 I heard with your soul you just now wished to part, 
 And the price, if I buy, is— each wish of your heart ; 
 
 is to enjoy and to live shall be thine, 
 Then the bargain shall be that thy soul shall be mine." 
 
 " Done!" quoth the cobbler, and snatched up his pen, 
 Drew blood for his ink, and his terms drew up then— 
 '• .it the end of five yean having all I can wish 
 
 tole ! Now will thai do, old fish '.' 
 " That will do,"   " Now have all thy desire, 
 
 The bond I will hold ;" and he v Lin lire. 
 
 The first thing Hob Crispin much wish, d for he got, 
 A peck of ]   tot in a pot ; 
 
 Thin be wished thai e all full of gold; 
 
 An in u moment full .1- they could hold, 
 
 broidered suit, 
 And one ready-made bundled right to his foot. 
 
 i he. " Now, I'll I forthwith see the Pope. 
 
 And lill him his hampers, his pokes, and his hags, 
 
 When he's glutted a right merrj evening, I hope, 
 
 1 Bhall Bpend with hie primati Lrdinal wags; 
 
 Bo to Rome be up< d in arrow can fly, 
 
 And tho Pope he found inu-ing and cocking las eyo.
 
 24 
 
 He filled nil the chests that his holiness had, 
 
 And so stunned him with -wealth that at last he went mad, 
 
 And a summersault turned like an acrobat rare, 
 
 And his hreech broke the leg of St. Peter's gilt chair ; 
 
 Then he left him and round among monkeries went, 
 
 And crammed them with gold till his five years were spent. 
 
 And monks fat and idle, and friars white and grey, 
 
 Got their wealth from this source — "from the people?" not they! 
 
 Then back he returned to his cobbler's stall 
 
 And took up his lapstone, sole, hammer and awl ; 
 
 Was banging away when Old Nick re-appeared, 
 
 And growled, "You have spent well my money I've heard, 
 
 To give the priests all did I save thee from toil, 
 
 But for quits I will give thee an extra broil !" 
 
 " Show the bond that I gave thee !" bold Crispin replied, 
 
 And the sole from his hand at his red nose he shied, 
 
 " Thou art Jewed soot-poke thief ! for thou'lt see in the scroll, 
 
 'Tis 6pelt nole, and not soul! Go learn spelling, old fool !" 
 
 Old Nick turned blue-black, in a hysteric tit, 
 
 And skedaddled at finding the biter was bit. 
 
 Then Crispin of Malmsey and Malvoisie drank, 
 Spelt spelling 'mong spellers in spellers' first rank — 
 (And cobblers are spellers yet, go where you will, 
 For proof only look at your cobbler's bill). 
 He got wed and gave many an abbot a rant, 
 And the Pope made him canonized, calendar saint, — 
 And chroniclers holy who can't be denied 
 Relate that he lived till the day that he died. 
 
 A VISION OF JUDGMENT BY A CLAIRVOYANT. 
 
 io: 
 
 Two judges Wete tl ironed on two adamant rocks, 
 In Heaven's Old Bailey, great Calvin and Knox; 
 
 The court crier shouted "O yes, 
 Has anyone seen in his twistings and turns, 
 That song-singing am i brewd spirit of Burns ? 
 
 If he has, bring trim forth to confess." 
 
 Bums stalked through the crowd and no penitence showed, 
 And shivered with cold in his clout of a shroud, 
 When arraigned at the terrible bar,
 
 25 
 
 '•There stands thine accuser," cried snuffling Knox, 
 " Holy Willie is ready to swear in that box, 
 And deny what he says if yon dare." 
 
 Burns stood and looked round without speaking a word, 
 When the cries of a batch of young bairnies were heard, 
 
 And Calvin roared " Whence are those brats?" 
 From Scotland, your Honour." "Then pitch them below, 
 And shut down the trap, with their squalls as they go, 
 
 Foreordained to be frizzled like rats." 
 
 " Bring forward that lout ; folk stand out of the way, 
 You were born to be damn'd, so off with you I say ; 
 
 Now, men, what's that screeching about?" 
 " 'Tis his mother," said Knox, " and I trow she's run mad, 
 She is yelling 'Don't roast my poor innocent lad,' 
 
 Give ear to the mercy besought.' " 
 
 "Go, woman," growled Calvin, "Be off and look sharp, 
 Prithee where hast thou left thy bright crown, robe, and harp, 
 
 No drivelling mercy comes hi 
 Thou wast born to be saved, and thy son to be damn'd ; 
 So, hussy, I wonder thou art not asham'd, 
 
 When thou knows't thou hast nothing to fear." 
 
 Burns stood in amaze, then he fled like a shut 
 
 To a place where 'twas neither too cold nor too hot — 
 
 Old Hades and Orcus bi twi en, 
 And grim, holy Willie rushed out with a y< 11 
 'I o bring him to judgment, and wondrous to tell, 
 Burns gave him the double south-eastward of hell, 
 
 And got tipBy at Fiddler's Green. 
 
 THE CHMSTIAN'S VOYAGE OF LIFE. 
 
 PI,,, i 13 v.. is a Hi Ihw. 
 
 term, •ignifyln the heading of the ohapter. 
 
 " I. . • me | n ither lei thi ulow 
 
 ouih upon me,' Pi I •. 15. 
 
 nils are bellowing — hark ! 
 Enroolydon is hoarsely growling 
 Around my feeble shivering bark, 
 Like woltei khfl mighty winds are howling,
 
 26 
 
 Am I forgotten, Skulemah — 
 My light uiy hope, my Shulemah? 
 Hell's legions urge the crested surge 
 That roars in 'wild convulsions rolling. 
 
 The moon is Mood, the hlack sun hid ; 
 
 Dark forms of waterspouts are soaring, 
 Whirl'd on a watery pyramid; 
 
 Sulphureous fires are on me pouring. 
 O light thy heacon, Shulemah ! 
 Thy spirit lode-star, Shulemah ! 
 Storm is hehind, and in the wind, 
 I hear the deadly breakers roaring. 
 
 Bilge-water bale, close reef the sail, 
 
 Horror reigns dark and dreary ; 
 And see, by phosper-sparkles pale, 
 Sea monsters glaring near me. 
 O light thy love star, Shulemah ! 
 Thy star of Bethlehem, Shulemah ! 
 For sore distress'd my sad request, 
 To live is for the love I bear thee. 
 
 The brine flood breaks adowu my cheeks, 
 My cries are dowu the tempest driven : 
 Crashing the sudden thunler breaks, 
 To leeward in the angry heaven. 
 hear thy sailor, Shulemah ! 
 Have pity on me, Shulemah I 
 Wild billows rise and lash the skies, 
 Mid meteor bolt and blazing levin. 
 
 I hear a distant silver bell 
 
 Amid the uproar sweetly ringing, 
 And 6ee among those fires of hell 
 A steady star's clear light unspringing. 
 I'm not forsaken, Shulemah I 
 It is thy beacon, Shulemah ! 
 O'er ocean drear, in radiance clear, 
 The break of day in purple bringing. 
 
 And now thy maidens round me throng, 
 
 And now I'm in thy Father's tower ! 
 The netB wine flows to harp and song, 
 Thou lead'st me to thy secret bower. 
 Now since I'm with thee, Shulemah 1 
 Now since thou lov'6t me, Shulemah, 
 I'd brave again the raging main, 
 Its billows' wrath and tempests' power !
 
 27 
 THE RESURRECTION OF SWEDENBORG : 
 
 A VISION. 
 Ne fleto: ecce vicit Lko ille ex teibu Juda. Atocalypsis. 
 
 Tite passing bell had rung its knell through proud Augusta's 
 
 towers, 
 And dark Azrael had summed up the Seer of Sweden's hours ; 
 The crown of wisdom's brightest rays shone from his noble 
 
 brow, 
 And Lis lineaments celestial wore a robe like driven snow ; 
 A white dove nestled in his breast, a horrid hydra curl'd, 
 Dead 'neath his feet, as entering the spiritual world. 
 
 All radiant as Apollo, when mom's red horizon near, 
 The blazing chariot roll'd that bore the wondrous charioteer ; 
 Of fiery gold, with living stars and jewels 'twas emboss'd, 
 And high and terribly their heads his flaming chargers toss'd ; 
 The groves of Eden bent their rosy heads, and from on high 
 light appear'd descending like a deluge from the sky. 
 
 Like the voice of many waters, when sky lashing surges roll, 
 All heaven advanced to meet him with a shout from pole to pole ; 
 
 rose like boreal streamers o'er old ocean's breast, 
 Ami in ranks of millions hail'd him, the bright armies of the 
 ble 
 
 On either hand with buruish'd shields, like full moons beaming 
 free, 
 
 way was lined with Berried files, heaven's awful chivalry. 
 
 Make way ! make way ! for Swedenborg — the temple's veil is 
 a — 
 rejoice, the conqueror comes, the triple crown'd of 
 
 To loftier th I h, ard awake the golden string, 
 
 And 801 !■.'.' Looming: 
 
 wake, a king approaching see, 
 n cherubim, . t.> b< ar him company ! 
 
 I news from deep Enphrafc : What news from banks of 
 
 ion, as proudly aa i rewhile? 
 Zenobia all its beauty yel retain'.' 
 
 rv'd wher< ones flow'd Pindar's 
 tin? 
 
 nto tin' blue Eg . 
 Unsullied yet by tyrant's feet.' U Greece among the freo?
 
 28 
 
 What news from old Iberia, and Lisboa'S ramparts strong? 
 Docs Gades, or Grenada green yet trill the Moorish song? 
 Stands Rome yet on her seven hills in high imperial pride ? 
 Sings Florence from her rose bowers to the Adriatic's bride? 
 How fares it with Helvetia? Do lawless bandits dwell 
 Yet by the rolling Danube's banks; the Rhine, or the Moselle? 
 
 Oh France ! oh love ! oh troubadours ! oh knights who bent the 
 
 knee 
 To the ladies of the tournament in highborn pageantry ! 
 Has reason vet taught Burgundy the voice of God to hear, 
 And cast aside the battle axe, or broke the Norman spear? 
 Lutetia, does she dream of peace, or tune the minstrel's strain? 
 Oh speak of lovely Provence and the land of Charlemagne. 
 
 What tidings from the banks of Clyde ? What news from 
 
 Tweed and Ayr ? 
 From Solway, Yarrow, Forth and Dee, and Ettrick's forest 
 
 fair ? 
 What news from crag, and scar, and fell? flies yet the eagle 
 
 free ? 
 Are Sterlings towers standing yet ; Dunedin and Dundee ? 
 Is Caledonia yet as prond, or is she great as when 
 Her claymore flash'd at Bannockburn, over kilted highlaudmen ? 
 
 tell us of green Erin ; is it yet a land of gloom ? 
 Do Romish dupes, our countrymen, retain their ancient home? 
 Round Tara's balls do yet cold blooded brute assassins dwell ? 
 Does famine o'er her fertile downs uplift its horrent yell ? 
 Or has the emerald land at last retrieved her long disgrace ? 
 Or will her woes end but when ends her bad Milesian race ? 
 
 Fair England doe; she conquer still by mighty arm and mind? 
 
 Do art . Mess her sons, industrious a. id kind? 
 
 Do bards by Thames and Severn sing ? Flows learning's 
 
 lucent tide 
 From London over every land the boon of thought denied? 
 Sounds freedom's trumpet still from high Hclvellyn's misty 
 
 brow, 
 To where 'mong suu-lov'd vales and gardens Devon's fountain's 
 
 flow? 
 
 Thus as they caii questioned him, and as from mountain 
 
   I'm, 
 
 n'd like an antique runic gi aid < ante Ossian's misty form, 
 With the classic sage of Hawthomdon came Scotia's royal 
 
 James ; 
 And Scandinavia's minstrels with their long forgotten names J
 
 29 
 
 Greeting him king Alfred carne, old England's royal gem, 
 Bending his head far flashing with a starry diadem. 
 
 With lambent glories round his brow, from Scio's sounding seas 
 Old Homer came, tower'd Illions bard with all his Hellenes; 
 There Virgil his bright cohorts Led, escaped sublunar woe, 
 From Tiber, dancing Ticino, and sky blue Anio, 
 There Miltan camo who blind on earth, now with the best 
 
 could see, 
 And with glory Shakespeare rose that drown'd the gloiies of 
 
 the three. 
 
 There Hermes came who tuned Mizraim's mystic Memnian 
 
 lyre, 
 And Zoroaster, with old < pers of fire; 
 
 i 9ar andAlexander, with their brazen legions bol 
 Cyrus and Darius, with their satraps clad in -ill: and gold; 
 Epaminondas, Pericles, unto then - countries dear — 
 Sonhocles, and Socrates, and Plato too were there. 
 
 marvellously beautiful Helvetia's hero Tell, 
 
 Appear'd 'mong freedom's martyred sons the cavalcade to> 
 
 swell ; 
 And Wallace now a cherub came in robes of gold and blue, 
 A vi aged of crnel Edward and his faithless country too; 
 And Cromwell shining still more bright, had lost fanatic gloom, 
 The leveller of monkeries, the dreaded scourge of Rome. 
 
 And there was Ariatarohns, who showed the astral way, 
 
 To Ptolemy, Copernicus, Galileo, TyohoBrahe; 
 
 I'.nt Newton, the celestial led the astronomic van, 
 
 Type of the boundless Cronos, the more than mortal man; 
 
 And kings and princes, lards and heroes, lov'dand great, and 
 
 good, 
 Dnnuii ber< d and onmentiom d, Bwell'd the mighty nyrltitude. 
 
 All hail, p lounded far and wide, as myriads moved along, 
 Bed Lightnii thed the ohoiristers that Bwell'dthe soul of 
 
 High b high heavens Bublimesi reach Buch harmony they 
 
 • one BofJ echo nature vasl had ail* ace 1 and amazed, 
 Though nature's loieie-t voiOi had through her i tapason roll'd, 
 
 1 im the hoarse earthquake' >au, to tinkling strings 
 
 old. 
 
 Cair, ring fiery chariots flamed in iy, 
 
 And hones clothed with thunder tramp'd along the star nav'd 
 
 way ,
 
 30 
 
 And trumpet call'd to trumpet ; as their reveilles long they 
 
 blew, 
 And thunder talk'd with thunder as triumphantly they flew; 
 Au I music sounding from afar, with answering music strove, 
 For joy in treble concord join'd the tenor strain of love. 
 
 He comes, the lion conqueror, upon his shoulder borne 
 The mystic golden key that ope's the pearly gates of morn ; 
 (The New Jerusalem long closed) Like the dread tornado's roll, 
 Hosannahs shook tho trembling spheres, and woke each distant 
 
 pole ; 
 Sinai's trumpet's voice again through heaven rung loud and long, 
 And millions entering through the open portal, raised the song. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Immanuel, thy land is fair, thy rivers flow with wine ; 
 
 Thine olives and pomegranates bloom, an I Sharon's roses 
 shine; 
 
 All silver-wing'd, thy turtles coo, flowers 'ncath our footsteps 
 spring ; 
 
 Thy living streams with emerald banks, sweet things arc mur- 
 muring : 
 
 Bring forth the harp, the organ bring, the viol and the lute, 
 
 ' Tis our Passover — the trumpet now shall never more be mute. 
 
 We've thrown off Egypt's burden's — left her locust eaten 
 
 plains — 
 Her iron furnace we've escaped, and burst her brazen chains ; 
 The burning desert we have pass'd and weary was the way, 
 And me knew wo sinned in murmuring in many a bitter day ; 
 Come forth ye virgins to tho dance, with cymbal, pipe and 
 
 lute, 
 'Tis our Passover — tho trumpet now shall never more be mute. 
 
 Jehovah walk'd in fire before, and Jordan's waters fled, 
 As proudly o'er his banks he flowed, and swell'd upon his bed; 
 The Canaanite beheld our tribes with sad and troubled brow, 
 And Giants that withstood our march dissolved like summer 
 
 snow : 
 Come forth, yo sons of Israel, ya children of the blest, 
 For tho trumpet of the Passover, shall henceforth know no 
 
 rest. 
 
 Howl in your temples Baal's sons, for Mammon raise the cry, 
 For wing'd destruction coming fast, and storm and tempest 
 
 nigh, 
 Leviathan with hooks is caught, fa laughter for the crowd,) 
 Our children with the monster play, (the king of all tho proud;)
 
 81 
 
 The heathen's land is chang'd to pitch, and hums where 
 
 ravens dwell, 
 While the Passover we keep in thy green land, Immanuel. 
 
 Now the silver moon shall never set, the sun shall ne'er decline, 
 And cloudless constellations sing for ever as they shine ; 
 Unfurl love' banners to the hreeze, shout over mount and main, 
 For righteousness and peace have kiss'd — they'll never part 
 
 again ; 
 Heaven's windows open wider still, louder the clarions swell, 
 For the Passover we keep in thy green land, Immanuel. 
 
 Our Zion's girt with mountains, and her towers ascend tho 
 
 sky, 
 Her citizens are monarchs, crown 'd with awful majesty ; 
 Through Salem's golden streets they dance, and in her bower's 
 
 rest, 
 And banquet on the fruits of life, still day hy day more hlest ; 
 O never more against her king in thought can they rehel, 
 For the Passover they keep in thy green laud, Immanuel. 
 
 A JUBILEE FOR THE GOLDEN AGE. 
 
 To Henry Grattan, Esq. 
 
 " And I licnrd ns it were the voice of a profit, multitude, nnd as the 
 nany waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying 
 Alleluia; fc tent reigneth." Rev. xix,6. 
 
 Angelic Mazzaroth of flame in Canaan's sapphire skies, 
 Arcturns's burning si ong, and Eden's Pleiads, rise ! 
 
 The bearer of thegospel comes from Paran's mystic height, 
 His face is Balem'e Babbath sun, his raiment is its light. 
 Prom Dan t" Beershi ba ai is< ! He ••nines from (ialilec, 
 'J'ln- Father, Hero, King of Kings! Meet him with jubilee. 
 
 is rank deep in the brow of Anak's giant son, 
 Fron David's sling that Btone deliverance 
 
 won. 
 Astros conns with jewelled hand to Bhed her sweets divine, 
 
 And balmy (iilcnd, < )liv. t, ;md Carnicl. bloom and shine ; 
 
 Grape clusters from the heavens hang to all the nations free, 
 From that one Vine whence flows new wine that cheers our 
 jubilee. 
 
 The Sun of Love stands still at U I o'< t Gibeon'fl mountains 
 bine, 
 
 The mountains of our fatherland that glimmer with tho dew;
 
 82 
 
 The mystic clew of Hermon falls on leaves that never fade, 
 
 And cold Astarte's planet wanes o'er Ajalon delay'd : 
 
 The treo of life o'ershades the earth (the prophet's mystic tree.) 
 
 And underneath man, heast, and bird, hold happy jubilee. 
 
 Philistia hears our Alleluias, bending feeble bow, 
 
 And Babel's dragon-god foresees impending overthrow. 
 
 Many crowns our Monarch wears — grasps Judah's sceptre 
 
 dread — 
 Rides on Elijah's chariot by his royal cherubs sped. 
 He comes to reign for evermore ! sound shalm and psaltery! 
 For in our bright pavilions He has join'd our jubilee ! 
 
 CHRISTMAS CAROL. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Bring hither boys the holly bough 
 
 With berries bright and red ; 
 
 The ivy from the ruined tower, 
 
 "Where owls shriek o'er the dead ; 
 
 The misletoe with mystic power ; 
 
 Anil winter's garland weave, 
 
 And the yule logs blaze shall shed its rays, 
 
 To cheer our Christmas eve. 
 
 The rack rides fast, deep howls the blast, 
 
 Where is the linnet now ? 
 
 And where the rose of sunny June ? 
 
 The blossoms of the sloe? 
 
 They're gone but they'll return again ; 
 
 And meantime lest we grieve, 
 
 We'll warm our hearts with wassail cups, 
 
 And cheer cold Christmas eve. 
 
 Come Betty dear — no voice of love 
 
 In nature now we hear — 
 
 But angels near us whisper it 
 
 Through all the varied year. 
 
 In cobl or heat, in gloom or shine, 
 
 The heart it shall not leave, 
 
 For as when sultry summer reigns, 
 
 It burns at Christinas eve. 
 
 We'll wake the viol's merry strings, 
 While tempest clouds advance ; 
 And while the pane cracks with big hail, 
 We'll tread the careless dance.
 
 83 
 
 Thug shall the soulg warm summer Bhine, 
 Till changeful earth we leave ; 
 And the yule firo and the wassail howl, 
 Shall cheer our Christmas ove. 
 
 THE TRIAL AND SENTENCE OF THE 
 NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 A FABLE. 
 
 Replete with envy, scorn, and hato, 
 From hill and dale in lone retreat, 
 
 Gather'd once on a time, 
 A court of birds to judge in state 
 The nightingale —and what his fato 
 
 The Muse shall give in rhyme. 
 
 In court perch'd not one friendly bird, 
 No plea was for the culprit heard, 
 
 For judge and plaintiff too 
 Was each, and hubbubs round wero raised, 
 Of accusations that amazed, 
 
 Philomel cowering low. 
 
 First spoke the eagle, reverenced ho 
 Amongst the aristocracy, 
 
 Of fowls for lordly sway, 
 He looked down on each democrat 
 And claw'd him whether lean or fat, 
 
 Wheno'cr ho wanted prey. 
 
 That wretch qnoth ho, tho whole night long, 
 Keeps up a never wearied song, 
 
 And wakes mo on tho rock ; 
 Hia ways arc so unlike my own, 
 His rustic manners, mind and tone, 
 
 Would any eagle shock. 
 
 IIo ceased, and then npspokc tho owl, 
 I bate his music in my soul, 
 
 I hoot and so should ho ; 
 I scream chim'd in the ilippant jay, 
 Qnako, make, says duck, is what I say, 
 
 And this day quake shall ho. 
 
 Why cant be chatter shrkk'd tbo pica, 
 Or cheerily chirrup sparrow cries, 

 
 84 
 
 Says doro ho ought to coo ; 
 Cuckoo screams cuckoo is most fit, 
 Quoth chanticleer, all birds of wit 
 
 Shout cock-a-doodle-doo. 
 
 Why ask'd the rook cant ho cry caw, 
 And why not jack sneer 'd grey poll'd daw, 
 
 Suro chirp 'd the thrush he's blind ; 
 Said lark ho sings to low for me, 
 And all agreed he ne'er could bo 
 
 A bird of any mind. 
 
 So with redbreast, redstart, and wren 
 Finch, ouzlc, linnet, dacre-hen, 
 
 Having defence denied ; 
 Tho birds condemned him one and all, 
 And on hini each began to fall, 
 
 And peck him till ho died 
 
 MOKAL. 
 
 Fools would command and compel others too, 
 To think as they think, and to do as they do. 
 
 DAVY AND NANCY; OR, FILIAL OBEDIENCE 
 REWARDED. 
 
 Blushing crimson, liko tho even 
 
 Ere the sun-ray leaves the sky, 
 Davy met his lovely Nancy 
 
 'Mong Ben Bhydding's rustling ryo : 
 " Wilt thou stay and listen, dearest, 
 
 To a lover's tale of woo, 
 While tho corncrake's mate is calling ?" 
 
 Nancy sweetly answered, " No." 
 
 " Wherefore dost thou scorn me, loved one? 
 
 Tell mo while there's no ono nigh, 
 Ere tho linnet ceases singing 
 
 'Mong the breezy rolling rye. 
 Fain the fate that lies before me 
 
 From thy ruby lips I'd know ; 
 May I live and live to love thee ?" 
 
 Nancy faintly answered, " No." 
 
 " Hard thino heart, thou cruel maiden, 
 Timo and tido may now go by ;
 
 S3 
 
 Never more I'll wield the sickla 
 
 'Mong the wildly waving rye. 
 Stay, yet stay, and hear mine anguish, 
 
 Seethe tear unbidden flew ! 
 Would' st thou see me pine and languish ?'* 
 
 Nancy, tremhliug, answered, "No." 
 
 " Why, then, dost thou pain me, Nancy 1\ 
 
 The moon o'er Rowley woods rides high ; 
 Tell me or thou shalt not leave mo 
 
 Till her light has left the rye !" 
 " Davy, then, the truth I'll tell thee— 
 
 Promise but to let me go, — 
 To a lover's questions, mother 
 
 Bade me always answer ' No!' " 
 
 Stars may bliuk and corn may rustle, 
 
 Dew may varnish poppies' dye, 
 For a thousand years a-coming 
 
 O'er Ben Rhydding's rolling 170 ; 
 But uo happier wedded couple 
 
 Will approving angels bless, 
 For to her mother time was Nancy 
 
 Till she bade her answer " Yes. - ' 
 
 A VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 I fa roan keep My saying ho slioll never see de*tli.— John, 8, CI. 
 
 At dead of night, when Luna shono 
 
 Cold, «till, and blue o'er Bradford town, 
 
 And still the lurries roar, 
 
 I lay in lone and sleepless pain, 
 
 And mused on life — ho whort and vain — 
 
 And friends long jrono to come agaiu 
 
 And cheer 1 more. 
 
 Then, with a gro.in, I turn'd my head, 
 Anil saw it form beside my bod — 
 A putrid '»• life and houI, 
 
 With sightless gase and visago foul — 
 Wrapp'd in a moaldy shrond. 
 Pray, whal art thou, In fon'ral cowl? 
 
 I uh!;< d. Art from some graveyard Btole? 
 
 Dosl think to scare somebody, fool, 
 
 That thou art now abroad?
 
 8(3 
 
 I'm death, he answered ; ha ! ha ! ho ! 
 My oharnel visage dost not know? 
 Dost mark me ? Ha ! ha ! ho ? 
 Dost laugh ? I cried. With thy sad faco 
 I think thy mirth is out of place ! 
 But, come, unfold thy mission here, 
 Thou that so seldom bring'st good cheer — 
 Why left thy coffin now ? 
 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! Art not afraid 
 
 Thy turn so nigh for tomb and shade ? 
 
 Ho ! curdles not tby blood ? 
 
 Why, bless thee Death, no stranger thou; 
 
 I've twigg'd thy phiz long, long ago; 
 
 Dos't deem me craven-bearted now, 
 
 Thou com'st with laughter rude. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! He's not afraid, 
 
 I hoard in shouts like music said ; 
 
 Then Death perform tby task ! 
 
 And casting off his deatb's bead raw, 
 
 Grave clothes and bloody bones, I saw 
 
 A epirit (as Orion bright, 
 
 With starry baklrick in the night) 
 
 Had worn the horrid mask. 
 
 Who art thou, glorious being, tell ? 
 My name he sang, is Azrael, 
 By Milton deom'd the birth of bell ! 
 And round the world I range. 
 I smite the guilty soul witb fear, 
 But oft unmask — tbe good to cheer, 
 With transformation strange. 
 
 Heaven, while he spoke, around him glow'tl ; 
 
 Again a shout of laugbter loud 
 
 And a voice cried from the radiant crowd 
 
 To christians Azrael, 
 
 No ghost is seen with vizor grim — 
 
 Away ye blue-eyed cherubim ! 
 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! and all grew dim ; 
 
 And the spirit-curtain fell. 
 
 LIMBO: A MYSTERY IN TWO SCENES. 
 Scene First — Nero (Solus). 
 
 Eiieb! but I am well rewarded now, 
 
 I'vo fish'd and lash'd tho murky Stygian lake
 
 37 
 
 (Since Satan and I tum'd papists)— seventeen centuries 
 
 As ghosts bring computation from the earth, 
 
 And lately caught but minnows, paltry schisms, 
 
 Food suitable to rabble imps and fogey gnomes ; 
 
 Mehercule ! but now I'll have a feast, 
 
 Th' archfiend shall be invited to the treat,   
 
 My fiddlestick I'll rosin well and play 
 
 The merry tune I play'd to burning Rome. 
 
 Enter Flibbertigibbet. 
 
 What smug and impudent spirit art thou ? 
 
 Flibbertigibbet . 
 
 I am hell's lamplighter. 'Tis I who clean and feed, 
 Its myriad glims with naptha from the Styx. 
 
 Nero. 
 
 Sirrah, hast seen king Sathanas of late ? 
 
 Flibbertigibbet. 
 
 But now I saw bis flaming chariot roll 
 
 Through Atraogorgon, from a visit brief, 
 
 To Italy, the Pope to aid in th' (Ecumenical councils' 
 
 Inauguration ; and antiquated blasphemies 
 
 To fulminate 'gainst powers divine and human. 
 
 Nero. 
 
 Then, bat -winged varlet, be my messenger, 
 
 Aud tell his grisly majesty from me, 
 
 That angling in the lake with bait of gold, 
 
 A tish I hook d, I think of genus shark 
 
 To naturalists unknown, and I name " Ritualism" — 
 
 Its dorsal fin a bristling row of candles — 
 
 Also convey that I his duteovs servant, 
 
 l; q u t him here with all his court to graco 
 
 My banquet, which \\ill be read; at ravin time, 
 
 Iu my poor house in lli^'h Church square. 
 
 Sour Second. Thi Banquxt. 
 
 Satan, Nero, Popes, Primates, and Priests discovered. 
 
 Satan. 
 
 Benohtnan, fill our n lei w aming full 
 
 of blood and aw. ::t : 1 1 . i an ancient vintage, 
 
 Crusted and raoy. Blighty Hi.ruphanta 
 >Viil jyu take it neat or luii'U,
 
 68 
 
 Omnes. 
 
 Mixed, your majesty. 
 
 Nero. 
 
 Take a little more Ritualism most august peers, 
 'Tis stuffed and spiced in Popery fashion, 
 Its flavour I think exceeds that standing dish, 
 Of gulls and bedlamites. 
 
 Satan, (taking his cup), 
 
 In troth 'tis excellent Nero. 
 
 Fiends, Popes, Primates, powers ecclesiastical — 
 Members of the guilds of pride, avarice, falsehood, 
 Presumption and blasphemy, fill your cups, 
 A health to one to whom we are indebted 
 For this new dainty feast Lucullian 
 I need not mention " Pusey !" 
 
 All rising — A health to Dr. Pusey. (cheers) 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Let Rome fill up Belshazzar's cup, 
 
 The toast we honour all ; 
 Let rituals speed and fools go read 
 
 Hand writings on the wall. 
 
 The ears of heaven are ever closed 
 
 To soul's in prisons cries, 
 And Laic Dupes of Olergic knaves, 
 
 Still love their enemies. 
 
 High rears his hood the serpent dread, 
 
 As when the world began ; 
 The time is past to bruise his head, 
 
 He fears no Son of Man. 
 
 LARRY AND BIDDY. 
 
 " Oicks, open the door, mabouchal, me honey I 
 I've thramped through the moss, and I'm wary and wake ; 
 
 I will die wid the frost, purty Biddy O'Roony — 
 And ye shure wad not wish me to die for your sake. 
 
 Bo jabers an' 'ouns ! 'tis a keen blasht, I tell ye ; 
 An/ the hot love will roa&llt »C poor heart, I aw sbure;
 
 39 
 
 An' I shware be Baint Bride's holy tongs of Molkelly, 
 Wid me bit o'shillalah I'llbatther your door." 
 
 " Och, Larry, ye spalpeen ! go now, an' be asy ; 
 
 Will I open the door, thin, and let out the hog, 
 The son o' yer mother musht think I am crazy; 
 
 I wisht in me heart ye were smoor'd in the bog. 
 Larry O'Keefe, if yer love is so warram, 
 
 Set yer brogues a bog-throttin an bother no more ; 
 Or shtand in the cold, that will do yez no harram, 
 
 For I tell yez at wanst I'll not open the door." 
 
 "But, Biddy O'Boony, jist now, whilst I'm spakin', 
 
 I thrimble wid wet, and I thrimble for you : 
 And I'm kilt dead wid grief, and me poor heart is brakin', 
 
 Will yez come to me wake, boo, ochone, pillilcw 1 
 I will go to Peg Brennan, an' tell her me tbrouble, 
 
 And thronble my Biddy O'Roony no more ; 
 I will tell her wid love I am nearly bint double, 
 
 And at wanst she'll get up an' throw open her door." 
 
 " Ish't of Peg that ye spake ? Dnrty wather upon her, 
 
 She shtrides wfd a limp, and she shtares wid a shquint 
 Go to her ! Why I'd die or go hang meself sooner, 
 
 Larry, acoushla come now be contint. 
 Och, murthcr, avick, ! wid me feelins yere spoortin'. 
 
 Come in for thares potheen an' praties galore — 
 Musht I tell yez whinever a boy goes a coortin', 
 
 He should always thry furst can ho open the door. ! 
 
 THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE. 
 
 ■:o:- 
 
 " Ilieland Willie gang thy way," 
 
 I said ae bonnie e'euin': 
 I might as weel hao bade him stay, 
 
 I trow he guess'd my meauin'. 
 
 Our auld Bheep collie kens him weel 
 
 By many a kindly token, 
 An' to tin gpenoe will let him steal, 
 
 An' ruithcr winna waukcu. 
 
 I'll no bide, T oanna bide, 
 
 I winnna bide tie Boiog, 
 Wi' wanling love he wearies mo, 
 
 US heart' suir ytf wooing!
 
 40 
 
 Ont owcr the hills he gaily bangs 
 When sheep and kye are stellinj, 
 
 And far awa I hear his sangs 
 Sound frae his shepherd sheiling. 
 
 I canna wander down the brae 
 Though ere sae fause an' warie, 
 
 But np he starts frae broom or slae 
 And laughs when I am eerie. 
 
 I stole awa beyont the shaw 
 
 A day to see my auntie, 
 And ere I got to Cragielaw 
 
 He met me blithe and jauntie. 
 
 Meg Allen's wed, an' night an' day 
 There's ne'er a ane to tent her ; 
 
 I met her wet and clogg' d wi' clay, 
 An' nane I saw behint her. 
 
 She gaed ae night athwart the lea 
 Wi' neither moon nor starnie, 
 
 An' her guid man ne'er came to see 
 Gin she fell in the burnie. 
 
 They say that Willie loes mo weel, 
 Is leal, kind, and canny — 
 
 An' troth I think sae to mysel, 
 But daurna tell't to any. 
 
 An' I've a scheme I'll whisper none, 
 An' soon I'll fairly fit him, 
 
 I'll gang and do as Meg as done — 
 An' wed him just to quit him ! 
 
 THE MILLENNIUM. 
 A Song in Correspondences. 
 
 i" The desert shall blosBom as the rose."— Iba. xxxv. 1. 
 
 The dark bitter winter of death shall depart, 
 And the season of song shall return to the heart ; 
 'Neath the fig tree and vine the beloved shall dwell, 
 And the voice of the turtle bid sorrow farewell ; 
 And the day-star of Bethlehem for ever shall shine 
 
 With a radiance unclouded— the Presence Divine I
 
 41 
 
 No more o'er the olive siroccos shall blow, 
 The vintage shall redden, the wine vat o'er flow ; 
 Joy shall sit on the throne of the sorrow of yore, 
 And terrors and tears will be heard of no more ; 
 For the star of the Magi in th' Orient shall shine 
 With a beanty eternal— the Presence Divine. 
 
 No more from the thicket the wolf shall destroy, 
 Nor the fox in his covert his cunning employ, 
 No grim hungry lion for ravin will roar, 
 The flocks and the herds shrink and shiver no more — 
 For the day-star of love, for the Presence Divine, 
 The perfection of beauty for ever will shine. 
 
 In the salt sultry desert sweet fountains shall play, 
 
 And the wilderness blossom in rosy array ; 
 
 Where the dark venomed weeds hid the snake in their 
 
 gloom, 
 Shall Pomona bring fruits in the day of her bloom ; 
 For the day-star eternal, the Presence Divine, 
 In th' expansion, his mansion, for ever shall shine 1 
 
 The clash of the falchion, the rush of the steed, 
 The hurrahs of amries, the phalanx's tread, 
 Shall cease— and the voice of the trumpet bo dumb, 
 And the harp shall be sounded instead of the drum, 
 And Urania's blight sons veiled with glory shall shine, 
 Hymning — Blest be the star of the Presence Divine 1 
 
 The red field of strife shall be jocund and blithe, 
 And the sword shall be bent into sickle and scytho : 
 The plough for the spear, and the wain for the car, 
 Shall be seen in the fields of the carnage of war, 
 And the veil will be rent, and tho Visage Divine 
 (,So marred) in its beauty for ever shall shine 1 
 
 ADAMS METAMORPHOSIS. 
 
 HfcLiXCBoL? and lonely Bat Adam and Evo, 
 
 Deploring a loss they could in ver retrieve | 
 
 The fed threat Hi u" brand! of the Cherubi shono forth 
 
 o, r • like the meteor streams oi the north ; 
 
 And the windl ligh'd mid BODb'd in the fig tree above 
 The couch of the exiles of fidvu aud Loffi
 
 42 
 
 A stranger appeared. Arm'd and regal his form, 
 
 Like rider and ruler of ruin and storm ; 
 
 In the flash of his eye evil principles blazed; 
 
 With the war holts of heaven his forehead was grazed ; 
 
 His voice like the earthquake was heavy and dull, 
 
 Or the low moan of Thetis when hurricanes lull. 
 
 " Why weep ye, poor children, for Paradise lost? 
 Why linger and gaze on yon pitiless host '? 
 Archangclic — a god — heaven rings with my fame. 
 Earth is given to me ; and Apollyon my name. 
 Rejoice ! for a Paradise happy and new 
 You shall enter hy drinking nepenthe I hrew." 
 
 Mute they sat, as a calahash near him he seized 
 And filled to the hrim from vine clusters he squcozed : 
 " Let the sun kiss it thrice in his race of the day, 
 The moon kiss it twice with her starry array ; 
 Then drink without stint ! It will open your eyes 
 To Edens that angels will view with suprise ! 
 
 Father Adam drank first and he danced on the sod, 
 
 He felt as a monarch and spoke like a god ; 
 
 And Eve looking on in his marvellous least 
 
 Beheld him transform'd to a Satyr-like heast; 
 
 And his presence she fled with affright at the change 
 
 Lest her form should he turn'd into something as strango. 
 
 The sky hecame hronze, like the advent of doom, 
 The Cheruhs of Eden more fierce in the gloom; 
 The pit oped its jaws with that fire unhallow'd, 
 First offer'd to God hy false Koran, (earth swallow'd,) 
 And horrors unnumber'd on earth came to reigu, 
 Magicians can never exorcise again. 
 
 Eve again sought her mate, through her tears in the morn, 
 
 And there he lay writhing and groaning and 'lorn; 
 
 His shape had return' d, hut the Harpies of hell 
 
 Were tearing his vitals with laughter and yell: 
 
 They fled her approach, and Apollyon since then 
 
 With Edens has cheated and brutalized men. 
 
 MY FIRST RAILWAY TRIP FROM 
 
 BRADFORD TO LEEDS. 
 
 •< — -jo: 
 
 Each silently musing upon this vocation, 
 
 Sat dgwn in bis carriage at Bradford's grand station,
 
 43 
 
 When the steam began harshly to snort, hiss and yell, 
 And then mov'd with a clash rather slowly and wearily, 
 Gaining in speed till we gallop' d right merrily, 
 Flying at length with such speed that I verily 
 Thought we had mounted the chariot of hell. 
 
 The houses 'gau dancing with wonderful capers, 
 
 The pollar'd oaks waltzed in the blue mists and vapours, 
 
 The sky like a whirligig wheel'd overhead, 
 
 The stormy wind rose as when witches are dying, 
 
 As faster and faster in showers of lire flying, 
 
 And thunders to rumble their deepest bass trying, 
 
 Down trembling and echoing Airedale we sped. 
 
 With crashes like bombs bursting round us to shivers, 
 We &hot under bridges, o'er meadows and rivers, 
 Through deep dismal bowels of mountains wo dash, 
 There Erebus thickened in horrors confounded, 
 As if Etncan Cyclops their anvils had sounded 
 Earth's knell to the gods as the hills go to smash. 
 
 Like the hurricanes demon that drives o'er dark waters, 
 
 And the billows white crests like the winter snow scattors, 
 
 And shatters tall ships in his ruinous route ; 
 
 When waterspouts dismal, in whirlwinds are soaring, 
 
 And riiling the tempest the hailcloud is snoring, 
 
 And mermaids look out on the wilderness roaring, 
 
 And wonder what such a commotion's about. 
 
 Like the furious and mad mountain cataract dashing, 
 Over beetling crags curling, boiling and flashing, 
 Like a star blink, a bullet, a dart, or a thought, 
 Like Mars when he rides over black desolations, 
 Or red hairy comets when wide conflagrations, 
 They spit in huge meteors to frighten the nations, 
 We rodo into Leeds and stood still and got out. 
 
 THE SCOTCH PACKMAN'S LOVE LETTER. 
 
 ■Til gloomy Yule-tide, Maggie dear, 
 Th(' him blinks Boldly Erai the lift | 
 lliaree hm ie Welkin tcar ( 
 
 i tumble through the broken drift, 
 My heart Is mm la Bottthla&daUma 
 Whtu J. rewtuilAT happy days,
 
 44 
 
 The glints o' love in simmer's prime, 
 And we our lane on Logan braes. 
 
 Forget mo not for a' for thee 
 My weary pack I daily bear ; 
 And biding what my wierd may be 
 Through storm and shine I stoutly steer. 
 Thy lovo as Scotland's star is truo 
 That sailors guide in danger's ways, 
 Thine eyes o' blue were dim wi' dew 
 When last we met on Logan braes. 
 
 The pickle siller that I get 
 I count at night to ae bawbee, 
 And hoard wi' care, for nearer yet, 
 And nearer steps arc they to thee. 
 My heart to care and toil I nerve, 
 And bide the brunt o' weary days, 
 For joy and siller I reserve, 
 For thee and bonny Logan braes. 
 
 Still keep thy heart aboon sweet lass, 
 We'll yet stock mailen ha' and yaird, 
 And many a happy yulo we'll pass, 
 And ye'll be canty wi' your laird 
 We'll tent our lambs and bairaics blest, 
 Where langest rosy simmer stays, 
 When I return to thee and rest 
 And lovo and homo on Logan braes. 
 
 OLD MRS. BULL'S MEDIATION BETWEEN 
 PRUSSIAN BILL AND FRENCH NAP. 
 
 8a¥B Mrs. Victoria, be ruled my dear Bill, 
 
 Curb your temper; don't fight, psha, says Bill but 1 Will. 
 
 Do you think I'll be bullied by insolent Nap, 
 
 When I've just fought and humbled as clever a chap ; 
 
 Goti's blitzen and hagel, I see your intention, 
 
 Mediation from you is concealed intervention. 
 
 So, so ; old Herr Spitnro, But here with a swagger 
 Comes Nap with his moustache, with point like a dagger, 
 Dear, faithful ally, sure you know how I love you ; 
 Why all ow Sigmariogen so strangely to movo you ?
 
 45 
 
 Spain's Prim is a villain for hawking it's crown, 
 Too thorny to wear, or he'd make it his own. 
 
 Remember your nncle, for victories famed, 
 
 He fought till he got both imprisoned and lamed ; 
 
 Let bygones be bygones, you are now high in station, 
 
 Don't quarrel for faults of a past generation, 
 
 Mind your homo affairs, Monseur, and later or sooner 
 
 The world will award you your just due of honour. 
 
 Who knows, but your crown some bold knave maybe hawking 
 Some months hence — Quoth Nap, it is useless you talking, 
 Bacre diablo, madame, I'll show Bill this day 
 How honour is won, in a coup d'etat way, 
 So be silent, old girl, if a snub you'd escape, 
 Mediators oft got thomselves into a scrape. 
 
 Dear me, sigh'd poor Vic ; did you ever, no never ; 
 Lackaday ! Parlous speaking to persons so clever, 
 I wish to a halter's two ends you wcro strung, 
 Each hanging himself while the other is hung. 
 -But I'll homo and warn John, while I'm darning his stocking, 
 To keep out of quarrels so foolish and shocking. 
 
 ISABEL AND NORA. 
 
 Nor. — Dear Isabel, why dost thou stay 
 Frae hamc sae late at e'en ? 
 Thy mither flytes thco day by day, 
 And speers whero thou hast been. 
 
 Isa.— I carena for my mither's frown ; 
 I love tho gloaming lea, 
 And a ramble with tho witching moon 
 On primrose braes for me ! 
 
 Nor. — But sister awesome bogles glaro, 
 Ami cantrips oft are laid — 
 0' gloaming 0800 and pliaw beware, 
 They've ruined many a maid. 
 
 Isa. — Though bogles grin in grisly ranks, 
 I wndna ri rie be ; 
 And the wlekea nbnw by Ettrick'a banks 
 And Ettrick's hou^Ii for DM I 
 
 Nor. — Bnt Ettriok's utrearas arc false they say, 
 When glint tho starry skits ;
 
 46 
 
 And wandering footsteps will betray, 
 When mists of midnight rise. 
 
 Isa. — Iladst thou e'er known the pleasures lone 
 Beneath the greenwood tree, 
 And conversed with the spaewife moon 
 Thou wouldst not plead with me ! 
 
 A nuptial passed the brownie knowe, 
 
 Ere leaves of autumn fell ; 
 And bonny lassies whispered low, 
 
 Tho bride is Isabel. 
 
 And still she sang, I love the lone 
 Dim shades of glen and lea, 
 
 And a stolen ramble with the moon 
 On Ettrick's banks for me ! 
 
 TO NAPOLEON III. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Napoleon the TnntD, thou wcrt well with thy mask on, 
 
 Thy Plebiscite, army, and flunkey, and Gascon, 
 
 Thou wort throned 'mong the gods, and thy dictum was fate, 
 
 Thy will was a nation's, thy person tho State ; 
 
 And thou would play at war's bagatelle. Wager thy throne, 
 
 And art learning with sorrow to let well alone. 
 
 Thou would'st baptize thy son unto Moloch in fire, 
 
 Father inhuman thou kadst thy desire ; 
 
 But "vaulting ambition" perchance had forgot 
 
 That the baptismal font might be rather too hot, 
 
 That the fire-lung of battles is often uncivil, 
 
 And a long spoon is best whe n we sup with the Devil. 
 
 Was it "peace" with French sages aud patiiots banished, 
 
 When the organs of reason and liberty vanished. 
 
 Was the coup d'etat peace, the Republic trod down 
 
 In cxilo and blood in thy greed for a crown ; 
 
 Colossus of fear that Republic from shame 
 
 And death hath arisen a Phoonix from flame ; 
 
 Tho nightmare Imperial, tho bugbear, the scorn 
 Of Europe is seen in tho blaze of its morn. 
 Thou didst petrify nations around with a glance, 
 But " Unity " laughed at tho gorgoa of France ;
 
 47 
 
 And thy prestige's vanity raving with spito 
 Brcath'd death while still flaunting falso banners of white, 
 And thou rushed like a brigand run mad to thy doom ; 
 Eldest son, hated shield of infallible (?) Rome I 
 
 Napoleon ! Thy crown for the foolscap of famo 
 
 Thou hast bartared. Go wear it in bondage and shame, 
 
 Learn Franco that thy glory and honour shall shine 
 
 Tot again ; but the terrible cost shall be thine, 
 
 And the brute's lesson learn that delight in a fray, 
 
 That war is a game at which angels can play; 
 
 That battle fiends must and soon will be chain'd down 
 
 With the dragon who never could let well alone. 
 
 VISION OF A NORSELAND GEISTKENNAR 
 
 :o: 
 
 Tho Druid harper's gaze was rivettod with amazo, 
 
 On a visionary battle-field afar, 
 And he heard from blue Moselle, trumpet blaro and clangour 
 swell, 
 
 From tho tocsin of the demonry of war. 
 
 Scandinavia's Thor divine, from tho Baltic to the Rhino 
 
 lie heard from grim Valhalla's temple roar, 
 Vandal, Visigoth, and Hun, at the dreadful summons run 
 
 To his tournament and revelry of gore. 
 
 Dark-visaged braves, bore down from Bavarian mountains 
 brown, 
 
 Hercuh an TT»-?inn yagers led the van, 
 As royal William's call, rung from Berlin's banner'd wall, — 
 " Up my Teutons, up my dragons, (very man ! 
 
 The star of Brunswick's ray show'd the Hanoverian way; 
 
 Bri W Polish spears left S.-vtliia'a forest gloom, 
 And the Saxon sabre's clank, toll'd tho death knell of tho 
 Frank, 
 
 While the landstnrm drovo the engin'ry of doom. 
 
 Mighty Odin o\ ine, roll'd through hissingmissile rain, 
 
 And Oder, Bheldt, and Ifai a beard the ory 
 
 ie bronolad m riven and it^ shiver.- oumber'd h< aven, 
 While the brawny (Joth and T< aton'S (!nd went by. 
 
 Smitten Gallie oonefl glare on the gleaming earth and air ; 
 Their faces in the iron furnace wan,
 
 48 
 
 Afl royal William's call, rung from Berlin's bannor'd wall,— 
 " Up my Teutons, up my dragons, every man ! " 
 
 Hark, the moaninga of the Seine,' where high festival has 
 been, 
 
 The Dying eagle floats to Zuyder Zee, 
 Tho Frankish chief in dread, flies the ruin o'er his head, 
 
 And old Germany, the father-laud, is free. 
 
 The Scalds of olden time heard the prophet's Runic rhyme, 
 And, in their Bothnian storms, took up the strain ; 
 
 Tho Druid ceased his song, hut his harp rang loud and long, 
 As if wailing, sadly wailing, for the slain. 
 
 THE OFFERING. 
 
 The Empress presented a candle at the church of Notre Dame des 
 Victoires, for the success of the Emperor's expedition. — Newspapers. 
 
 Round architrave and pilaster, groin'd arch and peristyle, 
 From domo to hollow sepulchre, through holy Mary's pile, 
 The organ's miserere roll'd. The priests arrang'd in hue 
 Beheld tho Empress humbly seek the Victress Mary's shrino. 
 Dark Nubian pages bore her train of priceless craniourie. 
 And a gold and crimson hassock swcll'd beneath the royal 
 
 knee. 
 " Most holy image, heaven's queen, give ear unto my prayer. 
 My spouso with great M'Mahon rides to glory and to war, 
 Thou know'st, good image, that his blood is stagnant grown 
 
 and chill, 
 And doctors say 'twill do him good a little blood to spill. 
 Restrain him, lest tho Prussians all he swallow in his ire; 
 King, Queen, and royal family, and set tho Rhine on fire. 
 Bo gracious, queen of victory, dear imago on him smile, 
 And bless my votive offering thy vigils to beguile." 
 Thus praying with her jowell'd hand she fumbled in her gown, 
 Drew forth a pyx, and on the altar laid a candle down; 
 Then ambling like the bride of Jove, in heaven's select array, 
 When Hobo blushed and Pallas smiled, she grandly swept 
 
 away. 
 Tho church doora were barred, and tho Sacristan gono 
 To tasto his Marnc trout, and Madeira alone — 
 The candle was burning when cross as a wasp 
 Wooden Mary addressed with a voico like a rasp 
 A big wooden Christ at his last wooden grasp. 
 " Sob, we're nobody now, why a nice golden cup
 
 49 
 
 I expected for holy pump-water to sup ; 
 
 Or a bright diamond ring or a necklace of pearl, 
 
 And a caudle behold that would shame a street girl. 
 
 Cheap worship I trow ! marry quip and come up — 
 
 But mark me, my lady, thy canter I'll stop, 
 
 An Empress forsooth she must come to my shrine, 
 
 And insult me a wooden Madonna divine. 
 
 My dear wooden Christ turn thy face up and see 
 
 An Empress's gift to a lady like me." 
 
 And her wooden son laughed with a dull wooden sound, 
 
 And the marble saints echoed his laughter around ; 
 
 And a hundred bras-; angels with voices sonorous 
 
 Cried "Shame" from the pillars and rafters in chorus, 
 
 Till Mary glared round with her tierce eyes of glass 
 
 And lacked down the caudle. The monks came to mass 
 
 In the morning, and out came the pious church scandal 
 
 Of the wooden immaculate virgin and candle. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF TRUTH AND LOVE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 It was Truth and Love went forth one day, 
 
 When Lebanon yet was young; 
 And Love was sweet, and Truth was gay, 
 
 And the sky with rainbows hung. 
 And ranging through th' enchanted woods, 
 
 And Eden's holiday lea — 
 
 hills and over the floods, 
 
 They met with young Harmonic 
 
 " Where art thou going, thou pretty, pretty j-outh, 
 
 In thy elerky gown," said th 
 " 'J' thy book, thy hook so sooth, 
 
 And we will be married to-day." 
 Then Ollt his book he merrily took, 
 
 And married them under Life's tree ; 
 
 line forth from heaven and earth 
 With " Aniens " toHarmonie. 
 
 And after his bl they bent their way 
 
 To higher and grander Bphen 
 
 And oi ! men he has married since then 
 
 For many a thou m 1 yes 
 Si I:   marxi i the light with the ambient air, 
 
 He has marri d the laud and the sea 
 
 V
 
 60 
 
 With the astral choirs ; and woe to the pair 
 Unmarried by Harmonic 
 
 BISHOP BLAIZE : HIS GHOST. 
 
 At midnight, as lying in silence alone, 
 
 Lost in deep, sleepless thought on my bed, 
 
 I heard my name called in sepulchral tone, 
 And a light round my chamber was shed ; 
 
 And a form with a fadge on its back I espied, 
 
 Clothe; I in prelatic mitre and stole, 
 With a wool-comb and oil-bottle held by its side, 
 
 A remarkable ghost on the whole. 
 
 " What art tbou ?" I sung out, not a little in dread, 
 
 " So untimely, thy business what?" 
 "I am Blaize, tbe Lord Bishop," he solemnly said, 
 
 " The clerical, primitive ' scrat." 
 
 " Then you're pulling the tup by the caudal part yet ? — 
 Have you got a good dozen, Lord Blaize ? 
 
 Is Shakespeare in Spectredom, jigging a bit? 
 Are you mates — or he's writing more plays ? 
 
 " Have you weighed out a lather ? You're weary I see, 
 There have been better days with us both." 
 
 He answered, " Quiz not, quondam comber, and be 
 Not so free with a ghost of my cloth. 
 
 " Of thee and of Bradford I've long been the friend, 
 
 And I come from the shades to deplore 
 My name in oblivion — my craft at an end — 
 
 Ere I visit the moonlight no more. 
 
 " The donkey's death-bray for the comber is gone, 
 
 And the old pot-of-four, once a glow, 
 Is extinct —gone to pot — the strong padpost pull'd down 
 
 And the comb-shop is desolate now. 
 
 "Woe is me, for my annual pageant and fete, 
 When my woolcombers, greasy and pale, 
 
 Kneaded mud in procession ! Ah, Bradford ingrate — 
 Ah, the speeches, the dinners, the ale ! 
 
 " Things are changed," I replied, " You're a fool to 
 complain, 
 The arts have progressed since your day."
 
 61 
 
 With the ghost of a tear, then the ghost in disdain 
 Sighed, and turned in a tantrum away. 
 
 Deeply pitying the spectre, I asked, " Is that all 
 You've t you go, reverend ghost ? 
 
 But he hitched up his fulge and walked straight through 
 the wall. 
 And my chamber in darkness was lost. 
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE THIMBLE. 
 
 ■:o:- 
 
 The knight of the thimble at midnight alone, 
 
 Went through the thick wood by the light of the moon; 
 
 His courage was flush, and enormous his pluck, 
 
 Misfortune he dare 1, and its cousin, ill luck, 
 
 And all for young Dowsabel, freckled jand fair, 
 
 His princess i ith canotty hair. 
 
 The forest was dark, but he cared not a rush, 
 With Borne dragon or giant he longed for a brush ; 
 He tightened his belt, ird he took, 
 
 And lished bis goose with a terrible look ; 
 
 a knight of t he would dare 
 
 For the ... low bewitched, with the carrotty hair. 
 
 no of young beanty before him appeared : 
 '• Ilii ! says he '• of fal e furies in forests I've heard ; 
 Hi nee, Batan !" he shouted, and marched boldly on ; 
 Bui as be approached her the fairy was gone, 
 And only a ; him was there, 
 
 This champion ] I and preux chevalier. 
 
 But ai iii'iii in t!i.- b ish met his gaze, — 
 
 rk, horn ablaze, 
 
 1 1 '   ig shield 
 
 And : let fall as hi Btoo I on Id : 
 
 The mon »ter a] * Lnnoceni oowi 
 
 Strayed and lost in tii ted him now. 
 
 He took np loard in ha t< — 
 
 i bad changed to a beast ; 
 
 " I'll [ ' c — 
 
 Thou ' 
 
 of i .1 bid thee beware, 
 
 Till I BUOCOUr the widow with carrotty ha. .
 
 62 
 
 The dark horrid forest he passed without scath, 
 When a form more than human he found in his path ; 
 It ran as he ran, and it stood as he stood ; 
 His brain became dizzy, and icy his blood — 
 He shook and he shivered, but stiil he rushed on 
 Till he came to a castle, then fell in a swoon. 
 
 A lady came forth, and he suddenly woke : 
 
 " What is that ?" gasped he, " there ! " and with boldness he 
 
 spoke, 
 " 'Tis your shadow," screamed she. " 'Twas a giant," quoth he, 
 Changed for fear of my goose to a shadow, d'ye see." 
 So she made him some tea, and his wounds had her care, 
 This widow bewitched with the carrotty hair. 
 
 BEHOLD THE DREAMER COMETH. 
 Gen. xxxvii. 19. 
 
 Like Bunyan, the tinker, I found a rude den, 
 Remote from the strife and collisions of men ; 
 I am not a Roundhead I own ; but what then ? — 
 
 I can dream ; and I dreamt I was dead 
 Methought I stood gazing at heaven's closed gate, 
 'Twixt hope and despair — (a most pitiful state ;) 
 Resolving at length in this crisis of fate 
 
 To get rid of my terror and dread. 
 
 So I piously struck up a hymn, common metre, 
 When out rush'd St. Joseph, with angry St. Peter ; 
 The latter exclaiming : " How are you the greater — 
 
 Am I not the Church's solado ?" 
 Dismiss'd from my post ! (then he made a quick turn, 
 Lock'd the door) and resumed : " Ere I give up, I'll learn 
 Both the why's and the wherefore's ; or, mark me, I'll spurn 
 
 Thine orders, my fine camarado. 
 
 The Pope, Mho rules heaven, beyond all dispute, 
 
 Hath made me a saint and his patron to boot." 
 
 " You're an ass," quoth St. Joseph, the question to moot ; 
 
 So give up your key and your pennies. 
 Folk oft keep in office too long as you know, 
 Reform is much needed, so bundle and go ; 
 Take your rusty old sword, there is mischief below, — 
 
 Genevieve is in tears with St. Denys."
 
 58 
 
 " Not so fast," snapp'd St. Peter, " Do Councils agree 
 With Cullen and Maiming, the Irishry, 
 That I should he sack'd and so summarily — 
 
 Does the Lateran vote for all this ?" 
 " Yes ; and Gladstone succeeds unto Henry the eighth, 
 As Jidei Defensor hy treachery's right." 
 " Catch the key," then quoth Peter, and cursing with spite, 
 
 He hurl'd it 6heer down the abyss. 
 " Thank you !" they heard from the dungeons agape, 
 And out came king Lucifer's right royal shape ; 
 Fast clutching the key (both the saints in a scrape) 
 
 Addressed — quaking Peter in mirth— 
 " You have let in my subji cts by thousands, you knave, 
 Yon have hll'd heaven full of my property, slave ; 
 Put I'll ope and shut now, and Bee well that I have 
 
 All my own be they Pontiffs henceforth." 
 
 LOVE. 
 — :o: — 
 
 Keen bites the snell blast o'er the wild withered brachan, 
 Cauld whistles the Bnaw round the era- and the cairn ; 
 Come ben, my ain jo, though they talk in the olaohan, 
 To steek thee oot noo I'd a wame o' cauld aim. 
 1 10 ben, for my auld graining minnie's asleep, 
 
 Oight it is mirk and the siiaw wreath is deep ; 
 \\ hi D 1 h. aid thy light step, how it gtfrt my heart leap— 
 I'll bar the door faster when winter's awa. 
 
 mpt na the hum whar the t'ause kelpie hovers, 
 it rows 'neath the hazel in fury and ire ; 
 But come to 103 ingl   o discovers 
 
 Th. • ly glintii ad 1 admire. 
 
 ili. in t:' . has love is grown stale, 
 
 ek their i ter wha'r fickle and frail, 
 
 virtue oonrta trial like In ro in mail. 
 Ami aye i- found kind) r whi d tarn .a. 
 
 tin hunks o' the Yarrow, 
 
 ,d th< !:: ad bare, 
 
 will think o' their sorrow, 
 
 r win n i ad hliK I" Us appear. 
 
 it to thi 
 And the thorn 
 Till then I'll unsl 
 
 And shelter my jo while IW«< I sawn.
 
 54 
 
 The laird o' Todlov i ie has braid lands an' bonny, 
 
 An' tempts wi' bright gowd and wi' Bilks that are braw ; 
 
 Mair dear are the bright gowden locks o' my .Tohuuy, 
 Which par my heart flutter much faster than a'. 
 At my hluc woolsey gown the proud laird alien kecks, 
 When o' hantlcs o' gear and o' mailius he speaks, 
 But dearer to me are my Johnny's greybreeks, 
 Wi' his plaid row'd around me when simmer's awa. 
 
 ST. VALENTINE'S EVE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 In a wide field of azure in ether's far height, 
 
 Near the galaxy's star-spangled way, 
 Aquarius throned in the zodiac's light 
 Courts Terra as round in celestial flight 
 
 She worships the Deus of day. 
 
 Thither down from cerulean mansions above, 
 
 An annual legion divine 
 Of augels, with far flaming torches of love, 
 Rejoicing descend, dormant passions to move, 
 
 And their captain is St. Valentine. 
 
 And they hurl their red firebrands all over the earth — 
 
 Over continent, island, and sea — 
 Into palace and cottage, and great is their mirth, 
 To hear what lies, vows, and confessions come forth 
 
 From the lips of the bond and the free. 
 
 Then the rulers of. earth have tl eir visions that night, 
 
 And their subjects have their visions too, 
 But not of dominion, conquest, or might, 
 But of love in its glory and burning delight, 
 And of troths everlastingly new. 
 
 Then the bachelor turns on his comfortless bed, 
 
 And a syllable mutters or two — 
 As the flames of the angels upon him are shed, 
 And he smiles in bis sleep for he dreams he is wed 
 
 To a maid whom he lov'd long ago. 
 
 The miser then dreams he has wedded a mate, 
 
 A wizened old harridan scold, 
 Who has stolen his money, and broken his pate, 
 Then changed to a horrible demon in wait 
 
 For bis soul and his coffers of gold.
 
 55 
 
 The poet has visions of Paradise fray, 
 
 Where romance can immortals beguile, 
 Where Apollo he hears on bis sun-chords to play, 
 Ami Venus respond with Elyrian Lay 
 
 To the god from her Paphian isle. 
 The rest of mankind as they slumbering loll, 
 
 When their hearts feel the quickening fire, 
 1 1 :ive fancies bo silly, and funny, and droll, 
 Of Peggy, and Moggy, and Molly and Doll, 
 
 That the Musts with laughter perspire. 
 
 Then the gold* n-hill'd ouzel-cock chirps to the moon, 
 
 And tin dove oestles close to the dove, 
 And up in the morning a-pairing they're gone, 
 And they shake th( ir bright pinions every one, 
 Singing " \N elcome the season of love !" 
 
 SAINT PATRICK. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 Baint I'Axr.K k b. and the snakes, 
 
 jVoni | of i otato< 8. Its ditches and brakes 
 
 Never mi • ' ' ; - 
 
 yez all!" was bis magical word, 
 they all disappear'd ; 
 Then he fill'd Lis dnddeen for a smoke. 
 <« Arrah, m what next will I do ? 
 
 l;, da !, 1   ill id t.»o, 
 
 rid King Arthur and Queen." 
 So be a >ught Ki   ' Ball} i 
 
 Whom he found Lull ith 0( Lie, and draining a mug 
 
 •• | t to Wall b ye are bound," said O'Brian, "me boy? 
 
 I . a drop of tin- orather, your cold to desthroy ; 
 ! ye the ban of my plough." 
 
 t of ploughs that ye Bpake /" quoth St. Patrick irate, 
 your one uhtilted plough the deep Bay navigate I 
 ith, its joking you are wid me dot 
 
 •• Y, t -"ill now be a«y ; leap deftly asthrii 
 
 Bold thi ''it in your flaht, and the billows you'll ride, — 
 It that hav< orosw d in an hour." 
 
 •• iiux,' tiiid the taint, " L will thry ;" und he tried,
 
 5G 
 
 And he plough' J through the sea, and he plough'd up the 
 Clwyd, 
 And he plough'd a long mile on the shore. 
 
 And ascending the cliffs to Plinlimmon's grey peaks, 
 Proclamation he made throngh the land of the leekSj 
 
 For the varmint to crawl out of that. 
 But he might have spoke Greek, for no venomous rogue 
 One syllable knew of his Patlandish brogue ; 
 
 So their case he denoune'd to the State. 
 
 Then Tavy ap Morgan ap Shenkins ap Rhyl 
 
 Call'd the nobles to Moot, and they fashion'd a Bill, 
 
 That school boards forthwith educate. 
 The reptiles in brogue — in log, bog, fog, and fen, 
 And the saint for his miracle's power till then, 
 
 Spell-bound and enchanted must wait. 
 
 In Snowdon's huge flank is a rose-tinted glade, 
 And the halls of Cadwallou enchanted in shade, 
 
 "Where paladins banquet unseen, 
 There he stays with the king of the Cymry and court ; 
 And the songs of Llewellyn make centuries short, 
 
 And prowess and beauty convene. 
 
 They have look'd for him long in old Ballynarogue, 
 But the reptiles leam slowly the grammar of brogue, 
 
 And Patlanders many there be 
 "Who his " double," from Howth of the tempest and snow, 
 Have seen like the storm-king astraddle his plough, 
 
 Biding back o'er the sea — the salt sea.- 
 
 A SCOTTISH LEGEND. 
 
 :o:- 
 
 Dugald Dhu, Lord Macdonald, rode down by Strathftnian, 
 And high waved his plume in the flas-h of the morn , 
 
 He met in the glen the sweet Bose of ClangUlian, 
 Aud shrieks echoed shrilly from Swindenhaugh burn. 
 
 Bhame to thy sweet-smiling gowans, Strathftnian, 
 
 shame to the mavis that sang in the thorn ; 
 For the maidtji dishonoured of high-born Clangillian, 
 
 By the claws of the hawk like the cushat is torn ! 
 
 Death dwelt in the dim-lighted bower of Bosellen, 
 There was wailing and tearing of hair that was grey, 
 
 The bell from the turret at midnight was knelling, 
 There was cursing and clashing of aimour till day.
 
 57 
 
 Who kneels by a flower covered bier in Stratbienian ? 
 
 The comely and noble young chief of Maclcod, 
 ! he tenderly loved the fair maid of Clangillian, 
 
 And weeps like a child with his brow in her shroud. 
 
 Then furious the gallop of horse through the heather, 
 Then fearful the beacon that blazed on the fell, 
 
 Like the rushing of waters the angry clans gather, 
 Like the roar of the tempest the shout and the yell ! 
 
 On, on, like a madman, Macleod is outsallying — 
 On, on, fierce Clangillian is howling afar — 
 
 L tbe 6torm that rolls down from the crown of Shehallion, 
 The sons of the Gael rush'd down to the war. 
 
 There is woe in Strathfenian, but oh ! in that hour, 
 For the clan of Macdonald the claymore is keen ; 
 
 Tin- far flashing blazes of cottage and tower, 
 Lit up the red carnage of horses and men. 
 
 fell the clansmen, 'mid hacking and hewing, 
 And shelterless widows were left to their woe ; 
 The halls of Mackdonald were left a black ruin, 
 And Dugald Dhu's corse fed the raven and crow. 
 
 Wild the coronach on braes of Strathfenian, 
 
 Wild are the cries o'er the wounded and slain ; 
 No pibroch ua heard from the victor Clangillian, 
 lovely Bosellen all vengeance is vain. 
 
 Bought again the dark keep in Strathfenian ; 
 Wan, weary, and wounded, he rode o'er the heath, 
 
 heart-broken wreck of the crime of a villian; 
 11. Mink in his gore-stiffened tartan in death. 
 
 Side by ride ^ith Bosellen he sleeps in Strathfenian, 
 And lovers at gloaming thai wander abroad, 
 
 Often Bee near a tomb '.\itli hie Lost of Clau^illiun, 
 Ihe dim wee] of the chief of Macleod. 
 
 LTTLE of tee boyne. 
 
 white the bold tutu \ < r ride, 
 
   ti-hill side, 
 
 •     i.   . i thine, 
 
 Tbj heartiest ton ^ho bid.- tbj life upon the hinksof Boyne.''
 
 58 
 
 " Hold ! Fire not now !" cried good King James, and shed a 
 
 silent tear, 
 " Leave my unnatural son to Heaven, my skilful cannoneer ; 
 I would not for my country's crown, my ancestor's and mine, 
 Commit a crime, though in red war, on deeply rolling Boync. 
 
 Beat, beat to arms Drogheda's drums, my royal banner spread, 
 Ten thousand helmets wave their plumes o'er squadrons dark 
 
 and dread — 
 Advance!" cried James, "Our cause is good. Trust in my 
 
 right divine, 
 Strike in for death or victory ! Brave spirits guard the 
 
 Boyne !" 
 
 Dutch William on his war-horse sat, and eyed the hills and 
 
 stream, 
 And round him his bright bravoes flashed, the morning's ruddy 
 
 beam. 
 " Sed on," roared he, " mein galland men, we tshow dem 
 
 dagdigs feine, 
 Bide Schomberg mit mein prave tracoons, und dake de foords 
 
 of Boyne !" 
 
 From either bank the sulphurous smoke from heavy ordnance 
 
 rose, 
 And Hamilton the furious Scot, bore down upon his foes; 
 Wild clash and clang, and stab and yell, alongthe charging line, 
 Proclaimed that death his harvest reaped, and life-blood 
 
 swelled the Boyne. 
 
 High over volleying musquetry St. George's ensign flew, 
 And fearlessly /'mid whistling shot, Line's bagpipe blew ; 
 L ine's sons, in fiery wrath, their vengeance all combine, 
 And thundering, burst through the guard of William on the 
 Boyne. 
 
 Whig William growled a German oath, and spurred his charger 
 
 o'er 
 The crimson water, driving through the murderous battle roar, 
 And .Tames Ik In Id, with sinking heart, his sword terrific shine, 
 As clouds of hors< nun followed, dashing madly o'er the Boyne. 
 
 Wo, wo, for Erin's warriors ! they fight, they bleed, they die, 
 Their corses strew the flowery sward, they scorn to turn and fly, 
 The ruined father and their 'king sought sheltering France to 
 
 pine, 
 And mourn Whig rage and treason, and his crown lost on the 
 
 Boyne,
 
 59 
 
 Erin, lament that luckless day, and veil thy widowed head, 
 Th' usurper waved bis reeking sword above thy heroes dead. 
 The Bhamxoct withers on thy hills! Thy locks with cypress 
 
 twiiie ! 
 Thy loyal heart was drowned in blood upon the field of Boyne ! 
 
 SUNDAY BICYCLE REDING. 
 
 One fine Sunday morning, for health or diversion, 
 Three bi era would have an excursion ; 
 
 And 'twas publish'd abroad that each stalwart young stager 
 Would ride foT his life, or a ruinous wager ; 
 Hurrahs from the Bowling Green rose as they started, 
 And buckled and strapped, the three gallants departed, 
 Up Ch( apside they sped, and on Manningham Lane, 
 Like engines broke loose, or a runaway train ; 
 The ohurch-| red, and i ach church-going bell, 
 
   ding dong, they are riding to hell !" 
 And they Baw an old woman a haystack pursue, 
 As on by li. d Beck and by Siiipley they flew. 
 
 Bui black thundi r-gloom in ti a to brood 
 
 Over arc as they enter Nab-wood ; 
 
 And onward they rode, though not quite so elated, 
 
 their bicych s all animated ; 
 To 1 rew thicker, 
 
 useless — and on th< y flew wilder and quicker. 
 " The deuce ! we are going like in id I" evied Ned Wray, 
 »« My bit 'i iiini.il 
 
 We . b a8 a beet, 
 
 I: is i 1 v.i: li I was a -foot I" 
 
 and blacker an 1 higher, 
 The tree boh burning like columns of tire. 
 
 ]:•. sar 
 
 Hi- mat* Like \ on hippogrifls near ; 
 
 Und< fined all arc 
 
 And the ir'd like the ocean in storms — 
 
 To Btop I I ye 1, 
 
 a 11 in w life by tl be made ! 
 
 And still he h. ard pi alin i i b chnrcb bi 11, 
 
 major, " ding dong, they are riding to hell !" 
 
 And a gate arching high, like a church -porch they uoar'd,
 
 60 
 
 Anil folding doors opening, and red-hot appear'd ; 
 
 Ned strove to resist, but on, on, they still sped, 
 
 " Lord save us !" ho prayed, " 'Tis all over with Ned!" 
 
 With these words and a spring, and a terrific roar, 
 
 From his bicycle fiend he fell squelch on the floor ; 
 
 And amazed he awoke, his poor wife loudly screaming, 
 
 " Ned, Ned, what's the matter ?" Quoth he, " I've been 
 
 dreaming ! 
 My nose, knees, and elbows I've hurt — strike a light ! 
 Thank goodness I'm safe — what a terrible fright ! 
 
 'Tis the nightmare, mayhap, I have just been bestriding, 
 
 Or a warning 'gainst Sabbath-day bicycle riding ; 
 
 Or conscience has conjured up old superstition, 
 
 But I feel in quandarious thirsty condition !" 
 
 Said bis wife, and she laugh'd, " but one word will explain 
 
 Both the cause and effect, and that word is — Champagne !" 
 
 THE CABBAGE AND ROSE. 
 
 Pater mihi ssepe dixit, 
 Studium quid inutile teutas. 
 Thus old daddy often sjwke, 
 Verses, lad, ne'er butter'd cake.— Ovio. 
 
 A poet once, in leisure hour, 
 
 Had learnt the speech of plant and flower, 
 
 And listening in the sun, at case, 
 
 The serenades of birds and bees, 
 
 He heard, in words of bitterness, 
 
 A cabbage thus a rose address : — 
 
 " Thou useless shrub, miscall'd a tree, 
 
 What in the world's economy 
 
 Art thou ? Where is thine use or good ? 
 
 Hunger rejects thy hips for food ; 
 
 I marvel gardeners can't see 
 
 The worthlessness of things like thee. 
 
 'Tis strange that maidens young and fail 1 , 
 
 Should prank thee in their shining hair ; 
 
 But girls arc weak, I own with grief, 
 
 They ought to wear a cabbage leaf. 
 
 Their mother's pass and note thee not 
 
 When culling kail for dinner pot. 
 
 Out of my sight — begone — depart ! 
 
 Thy thorns discover what thou art."
 
 Gl 
 
 " Patience," the noble rose replied, 
 "lam the garden's greatest pride, 
 Lore's bright emblem banner-borne, 
 On the crown's of monarchs worn. 
 My odours o'er the billows come, 
 In otto from the land of Roum ; 
 My ancestors of Sbaron yet 
 Adorn the page of Holy Writ. 
 Where'er a youth sees beauty, he 
 Delighted says, 'Tis just like me ; 
 So hogsmeat, hold thy railing tongue, 
 Feed, fatten, hloat upon thy dung. 
 Gross fool, I paint Aurora's brow, 
 Whilst food of swine and maggots thou. 
 We both are useful, but I liud 
 Thou'rt for the paunch, I for the mind." 
 
 The poet muttered in his turn, 
 
 " A body still may live and learn.'' 
 
 THE EXILE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 The angels of love, of the season of youth, 
 
 Hover dim over the moorland streams ; 
 
 And the wild waving branks, with fingery leaves, 
 
 Point now to a land (A dreams : 
 
 The loved :md the lost one's shadowy forms 
 
 On the footpath of flo I I see, 
 
 Thou lien long from the cuckoo's primrose sonj 
 
 And the dales of the north oqnntr 
 
 (in the hearth of my father the si its, 
 
 And Borrow-laden yean hi 
 
 iv spirit llkfl where the thro&tle sings, 
 
 With the grei ii ! ir his head ; 
 
 Still the dark in the rammer's south wind, 
 
 And tin thru l< 'I ":ii; tree 
 
 bj the lilv-ki in" burn, 
 In th -trie. 
 
 Why Doory with b<   t dear " 
 
 Whj •• n yom 
 
 Ox why cruel destiny »1 1 the ham 
 
 Wlicrc our lives and onr loves first Bprnn
 
 62 
 
 Though the stockdove at eve should forget to coo, 
 And the sun to drink the dew of the lea, 
 My memory of pain and affection shall remain 
 For the dales of the north countrie. 
 
 The hind will return to the brake of her youth, 
 
 And the swallow through the spring-clouds fly, 
 
 And the hare before the bound, in the coppice doubles round, 
 
 On her fern-shelter'd form to die ; 
 
 And fain would I rest in the dust of my sires, 
 
 While the wind pipes my monody, 
 
 And the restless peewit cries through the heather-puimlcd skies 
 
 In the dales of the north countrie. 
 
 Blow on in thy beauty thou damask rose, 
 
 Which the Bpring brings again and again, 
 
 To the home where an infant I saw the moon 
 
 Weirdly stare through the window pane ! 
 
 Dance on generations of youth niter youth, 
 
 As the spheres dance, and I shall not lie 
 
 Where an angel of delight gathered elderberries bright, 
 
 In the dales of the north countrie. 
 
 THE RIFLEMAN". 
 
 splendid ! I never beheld such a sight, 
 
 If I don't go again 'twill go hard ; 
 Yes, Granny, spectators to view the sham fight 
 
 Were as countless as flowers on the sward. 
 
 The riflemen wheeled, kneeled and ran all about 
 
 As if mixed in a real battle fray ; 
 They kept charging like crazy, and firing at nought, 
 
 And among them I spied Harry Gray. 
 
 There were rope-dancers, harlequins, ladies in gold, 
 Spangled dresses and buskins and paint; 
 
 And one, who was he ? ever handsome and bold, 
 Guess, Granny, I'm certain you can't. 
 
 And Granny, you know, I had on my pink dress, 
 And I'm sure I look'd smarter than they ; 
 
 One thought so I know, would he only confess, 
 And a rilleraan too — Harry Gray.
 
 63 
 
 Hissing wildfires and rockets with terrible hum, 
 Mixed with flying fat pigs filled the air, 
 
 And the din of the cannon, the trumpet and drum ! 
 Darling Granny, I wish you'd been there. 
 
 Hundreds danced on the daises in joy and delight, 
 
 Till thi the beautiful day, 
 
 And I, with a rifleman, linked home at night, 
 
 Guess with whom, Granny guess— Harry Gray. 
 
 GAFFER REUBEN 
 
 :o:- 
 
 Hfah what Gaffer Reuben said ? 
 " God. through nature, bids as wed ; 
 Weddi i all can tell) 
 
 Angel's heaven, demon's bell." 
 
 " List," now cried the ancient man, 
 
 ' Experience is wise ; 
 Wh( d in the lists of love I ran 
 
 I gain'd the fairest prize. 
 
 " I vow'd tn bless my captive won, 
 
 My oath in heaven was writ, 
 But, i re the i arth roll'd round the 6un, 
 
 I learnt the word ' submit.' 
 
 " When rose domestic tempests dread 
 
 And rain began to poor, 
 1 dismayed, 1 hid my troubli d head, 
 
 And Let the wrath drive o'er. 
 
 " The pride of merit on my brow, 
 Ne'er Ba1 with hi| h pretence, 
 
 The band of I 
 
 " My child was Bmii with di ath at piny, 
 
 My strength I Baw i 
 No real joy Binoe thai Bad day, 
 
 II my beart. 
 
 " still hand in hand my dame and I 
 ii.;. i. ,| : ars, 
 
 :h, 
 
 .rd.
 
 64 
 
 " A humble and a contrite heart, 
 
 In toil and care I prov'd ; 
 With patience and a little smart, 
 
 I found myself belov'd." 
 
 Then up and spoke his ancient dame, 
 41 Why, man, your wig's awry, 
 
 Do let me right it ! See, for shame, 
 Your twisted silken tie ! 
 
 " When our first parents lived alone, 
 
 Ere sin and sorrow came, 
 In persons two they were but one ; 
 
 And Adam* was their name. 
 
 " When we were married we wore two, 
 
 Our inner loves unknown ; 
 Till time inclined, like drops of dew, 
 
 And mingled us in one." 
 
 An Angel's wing was seen to flit 
 
 Athwart her visage plain, 
 A cup of ale she brought, and lit 
 
 Her Reuben's pipe again. 
 
 GAFFER REUBEN'S SAW. 
 
 " The King's daughter is all glorious within."— Ps. xiv. 13. 
 
 Hear what Gaffer Reuben said, 
 
 While smoking at his door: 
 " My sons, the early love of truth, 
 
 Unlocks celestial lore. 
 Judge not of fruits before unknown 
 
 From husk, shell, pod or skin, 
 Nor from a maiden's outward mien 
 
 What spirit dwells within. 
 
 " They say that Siddim's fruits are fair, 
 
 But filled with noisome dust ; 
 And vines with grapes of poison tempt 
 
 The palate's strongest lust. 
 They say the crocodile can weep, 
 
 The panther purr and play, 
 And that the serpent fascinates 
 
 With dulcet sounds its prey. 
 
 " And Ood blessed them, and called their name Adam.— Gen. v. 2. 
 
 i
 
 65 
 
 " And fascinating beauty's wiles 
 
 May screen a fiend within, 
 Andrpainted gates and flowery paths, 
 
 May lead to sinks of sin ; 
 The gesture meek, the downcast eye, 
 
 The sweet and saint-like smile, 
 The sigh of pity for distress 
 
 External eyes beguile. 
 " This world is but the outward husk, 
 
 This body but the shell, 
 Of others glorious or dark, 
 
 Of heaven or of hell. 
 For once I 6aw an angel bright 
 
 Beneath an Indian skin ; 
 And would not own a pair of eyes 
 
 Whoso ken is not within. 
 
 " In trusting man or woman's faith 
 
 Be cautious and beware ; 
 For hell puts heaven's raiment on 
 
 To lure and to ensnare" — 
 He ceased, and Gammer Madge began 
 
 To croon a song and spin ; 
 And Gaffer Reuben dashed his pipe, 
 
 Arose, and went within. 
 
 TO MY MOTHER. 
 
 ■:o:- 
 
 Many springs have doffd their robes 
 And doun'd them on again, 
 
 And yet I feel thy gentle hand 
 My Boning head sustain. 
 
 And still I Bee thy humid eyes 
 Through dim and Bpcctral years, 
 
 And hear thine anguish in the moan 
 That sooth'd my boyhood's fears. 
 
 The iron in the hand «>f rid 
 II branded deep my brow, 
 
 in night's watonea oft I ask, 
 l>. i i.   ■:'• r, i here art thou? 
 
 Not in the tomb (to < arthborn minds 
 
 That dwelling dark and divari— 
 E
 
 66 
 
 Earth could not hold thy tenderness, 
 I may not seek thee there. 
 
 Thy home is Eden's gardens green, 
 Thy heart in heaven's employ ; 
 
 There lives thy love as onco it liv'd, 
 But know'st thou yet thy boy ? 
 
 Silent, mother? Silent? No! 
 
 Thy songs to me divine 
 I hear. My spirit ever will 
 
 Hold sweet rapport with thine. 
 
 And in thy golden morning land, 
 
 Time cancell'd and unseen 
 Unveils thy hidden loveliness, 
 
 Nor hides what I have been. 
 
 With pansies, pinks, and peonies, 
 
 Their constant fairy train, 
 Sweet birds to Burtreebanks have come, 
 
 Sung, and away again. 
 
 'Twas there thou led'st thy dreamy boy 
 
 The tender lambs to see, 
 And now o'er Eden's Burtreebanks 
 
 His spirit goes with thee. 
 
 A TRIP TO MORECAMBE BAY. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Anna took her silken scrip, 
 
 And cheerily went her way 
 Upon a pleasant summer trip 
 
 To famous Morecambe Bay. 
 
 From rambling round 'mong wonders new 
 
 Sbe sat upon the strand, 
 And gazed upon the waters blue 
 
 And distant Westmoreland. 
 
 What ails the pretty maiden now 
 
 She tiembles in the gale? 
 The rose tint now o'erspreads her brow — 
 
 And now 'tis snowy pale I 
 
 A voice — Was it a mermaid nigh 
 Singing with conch in hand ? 
 
 Or was it spirit minstrelsy 
 Borne o'er the shingly strand ?
 
 67 
 
 Low accents, soft as roseate dew, 
 
 So sweetly, gently, fell — 
 ■Whence ? but no mortal ever knew, 
 
 And Anna does not tell. 
 
 It wa3 a voice. It was no dream, 
 
 Her car was not deceived, 
 Words murmur'd in ambrosial stream, 
 
 Pure, holy— and believed ! 
 
 Smiled sunny bill and scabank green, 
 
 Purple the billows roll'd 
 And on her bonny hand was seen 
 
 The fiery flash of gold. 
 'Twas there she lost her crimson snood, 
 
 And since 'tis many a day ; 
 And Anna never yet has rued 
 
 Her trip to Morecambo Bay. 
 
 THE SHEKINAH. 
 
 "I heard as it were a trumpet talk big with me, which said, " Como up 
 hither."'— Bbv. 11. 1. 
 
 From Hades dim abyss I cried, as spectres came and went, 
 I knew not what or whence they were, and marvell'd what they 
 
 meant ; . 
 
 There were Ojiim and evening wolves and dancing Satyrs nigh, 
 And serpents breathing pestilence, but Mercy heard my cry ; 
 And sudden as the storm-bolt lifts the veil of nightly skies 
 On adamantine columns borne, I saw a temple rise, 
 The rtructun i of Persepolifl, Diana, Libyan Jove, 
 All Grecian, all Mizraim's fanes in hallow'd mount or grove, 
 The Beta w fabric and the towers rear'd by th' Assyrian queen 
 < ,lt by spirits, earthly, gross and mean: 
 
 i I,.]., -t pinion'd Oherubim each buckler seem'd a moon 
 Ablaze with beams from inner heaven's open-winclow'd noon, 
 Ami the trump* t-bl I of Binai continuous and loud 
 
   laimM the i ; " raaole Bhekinab of <;<>d! 
 
 A golden throne with six bright b ps of pricelei ms appeared 
 
 lions six on either hand u< mi ndous guardians glazed, 
 veiled upon the throne a minstrel Bmote bis lyro, 
 
 1 men In myriad I to bis voice and gold d wire — 
 
 >Twi Mo   ' loom, Creation, of the birth 
 
 Of man, the Full, the Flood, and I loo of the earth,
 
 68 
 
 Of Abraham, Isaac, Israel, Jehovah's works he sung, 
 
 Then down in disappearing his magic harp he flung. 
 
 I then beheld a regal form ascend and grasp the lyre, 
 
 His eyes were fierce as meteors, his words like tongues of fire, 
 
 To themes of blood and strife, and prayer and praise, his fingers 
 
 flew 
 Across the harp, and David's bold and kingly voice I knew, 
 He faded like a phantom, and once more upon the throne 
 A monarch seized the harp, a hierarch of wisdom's own ; 
 In gold of Uphaz, gem-emboss'd, and blue and purple drest, 
 He glimmer'd like a seraph in the dayspring of the East ; _ 
 Surrounding him sang rosy choirs of Judah's daughters bright, 
 And flaming in habergeons, were ten thousand men of might ; 
 He caught the airs of angels as they hymned in glory's spheres, 
 Aud with truth's mystic " song of songs " he moved the world 
 
 to tears ; . . 
 
 He raised his hand and smote the harp with fierce magician s 
 
 sweep, 
 And tempest-borne at his command came genu of the deep, 
 Dark spirits at his footstool bent— his slaves— and by thein he 
 Built Tadmor in the wiLlerness, Beth-horon on the sea. 
 He faded : and an ancient man, with beard as winter white 
 Ascended, rapt— a vision'd Seer— and lost in inward light- 
 Isaiah. Future times he sung and happier days to be, 
 When the sunlight should be sevenfold, and clouds and shadows 
 
 flee, 
 When a child should lead the forest king, the changeful moon 
 
 should cease, 
 And 'neath their vines and fig-trees men securely rest in peace, 
 The King of mystic Israel assume the diadem, 
 And His captive people, freed, again behold Jerusalem — 
 The Prince he sung, excelsior swell'd his harp's celestial tone, 
 And as he swept its radiant cliord I gazed and he was gone — 
 And slowly in a starry robe I saw another rise, 
 Celestial halos zoned his heail, and flames shot from his eyes ; 
 He took the harp and awful sounds came from each trembling 
 
 chord, 
 For he »ung of heaven's appearance and the'ehariot of the Lord : 
 Fear like a shadow fell among the silent listening throng 
 And deep amaze, as loud and wild and wondrous roll'd his song, 
 Ezekiel's voice I heard, I look'd to see the workings of his face, 
 But he was gone and weeping sore another fill'd his place. 
 His strains were lamentations and agonizing woe, 
 The sorrows of captivity, the proud insulting foe : 
 Like howling storms that through the midnight vault of winter 
 
 Bweep,
 
 G9 
 
 Like hollow roar of waters in the Hack and tumbling deep, 
 Like outer desolation's sound his dreary harp was heard, 
 One long-drawn groan his strain, and Jeremiah disappear'd- 
 And humbled — bending to the dust — I heard the Logos say 
 " Up, son of man ! Arise ! Up hither come away " 
 
 A FATHER'S LAMENT. 
 
 "I shall go to him, hut he shall not return to me." 2nd. Samuel, xxiii. 11 
 
 Again, again, that sight of mourning! 
 
 On my brain that maddening scene ! 
 Stark, and cohl, and still my darling ! 
 
 Dead ! not dead ? What can it mean 
 
 Fill the bowl — heaven's mercy slumbers, 
 
 Endite my heart a funeral strain ; 
 Sorrow is the nurse of numbers, 
 
 Poesy the child of pain. 
 
 I ~e to life are others clinging, 
 
 tly past their moments flee ; 
 But to me their wings are bringing, 
 Nerveless— hopeless misery. 
 
 Happy be whop e heart's affections 
 
 Are not rndely torn away, 
 Full of pleasant recollections, * 
 
 dams unnoted life's decay. 
 
 Happy with bis offspring round him, 
 
 In their youth his youth renews, 
 Blooming love that early found him, 
 
 Blossoming again he views. 
 
 Time hi with frost adorning, 
 
 in his increase finds him blest, 
 And at last his children mourning, 
 t him gently to his rest. 
 
 I — alone — bereft — forsaken, 
 
   child to smile or weep ; 
 None my i n< rgi< j to waken, 
 
 None to lull my can s to sleep. 
 
 one oomii 
 
 In thi ir rounds to me the sumo, 
 Flow. r4 fii'iir blooming, 
 
 Oriel's uttentiou only claim,
 
 70 
 
 Happy wild birds billing kindly, 
 
 In the morning of the year, 
 Heavenly instincts serving blindly, 
 
 Take your meed from me — a tear- 
 Earth grows cold, and sun spots gather, 
 
 Grave worms round my senses creep ; 
 May Thy will be done my Father, 
 
 Give, oh give my spirit sleep ! 
 
 Wealth is but a maniac's bauble, 
 Fame — a vain and empty dream, 
 
 Honour — heaviness, and trouble, 
 Life — a fitful winter gleam. 
 
 Turn my soul to life's to-morrow, 
 Heaven opens on my sight ! 
 
 Lo ! another new aurora 
 
 Rising on this mundane night. 
 
 Mercy ! memory still is burning 
 On my brain that maddening scene, 
 
 Stark, and cold, and still my darling, 
 Would that I had never been. 
 
 THE BACHELOE FROM LOVE. 
 :o: 
 
 How happy once the early morn, 
 When summer robed the scented thorn, 
 When nature blessed the golden ray 
 In greenwood hymns sung far away, — 
 
 Listen from Eden, Genevieve ! 
 I loved thee then, I love thee now 
 As tenderly as long ago ; 
 Long loved, long lost ! Those warm blue skies 
 Delight no more mine aged eyes, 
 
 My heart went with thee, Genevieve. 
 
 Love yet deceives, for in my dreams 
 
 I roam beside my native streams, 
 
 Thou by my side ; nor am I old, 
 
 Nor is thy love-glance qiiench'd and cold, — 
 
 Listen from Eden, Genevieve ! 
 I speak again of coming joy,
 
 71 
 
 A hopeful, careless, ardent boy, 
 And thy replies are soft and clear, 
 And dove-like as long since they were, 
 And thou art faithful, Genevieve. 
 
 Ah, hopes ! ah, pleasures ! all gone by ; 
 Ah, fruitless love and transient joy, 
 Ah, summer fair whose smiles betrayed, 
 Ah, loved, ah, lost, regretted maid, — 
 
 Listen from Edeu, Genevieve ! 
 My pilgrimage will soon be o'er, 
 And then we meet to part no more ; 
 O'er Eden's sunlit plains we'll stray, 
 To live, to love, be blest for aye 
 
 In angel wedlock, Genevieve. 
 
 DOOM OF BACHELORS FROM CHOICE. 
 
 :o:- 
 
 Ose night in brown study in private s<" auee, 
 
 I stared at the fire till I sunk into trance. 
 
 In such weakness or strength, if the truth all would own, 
 
 In ghost-seeing trauei i 1 am not alone ; 
 
 For I saw that on earth we all wander a-kimbo, 
 
 In mists I saw lifted from bachelors' limbo. 
 
 'Twas a region eerie, vast, sultry, unclouded, 
 
 With thousands of spinsters and bachelors crowded ; 
 
 As I entered, a beldame erii d, " Where are you going?" 
 
 " I'm curious," I answered, " to see what you're doing. 
 
 Whal are those poor old fellows the women are beating 
 
 With distaflfe and broomsticks, while toiling and sweating?" 
 
 " Those are npper-cli -. judged only as fit 
 
 To fill ap with rubbish the bottomless pit ; 
 
 Old maids load their wh< albarrows, heaping them high, 
 
 Which they lift, groan, and wheel, while tin ir drivers standby, 
 
 And threaten with many a bang and a grin 
 
 I hunt them, along with tin ir wheelbarrows, in. 
 
 " Of tin- middle-class torturi b, turn round and behold 
 
 Those Luttc rfliee shining with purple and gold ; 
 
 Thej v. <.]i ' artb they were k< i nly pursuing, 
 
 auty and im 'in- ruin ; 
 
 ]|. i. they can't choose bul follow and (dutch the gay things, 
 And grasp horrid scorpions with venomous btings,
 
 72 
 
 " Of the cowardly poor, little better their lot : 
 Each is changed to an ass an old vixen has got ; 
 There goes one ; — see, she rides him like fury along, 
 Ceaseless, restless, with fiery spindle for prong ; 
 Through dark howling forests, by Phlegethon's river, 
 Up and down — up and down —limbo for ever. 
 
 " But perhaps you're the donkey for whom I have tamed," 
 
 The Hecate exclaimed ; " Did you ever get married?" 
 
 " Yes, hag ! " I returned ; and perhaps I was plucky, 
 
 Or simple, or wise, but I find I was lucky : 
 
 When a shot from the grate of a coffin or purse 
 
 Burnt my nose, and I woke ; — and I might have done worse. 
 
 THE WITCH : A WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 In olden time when Robin Hood 
 
 Enjoy'd King Richard's grace, 
 
 And oft made Bradford in the wood 
 
 His sylvan trysting place, 
 
 When the bugle winded on the breeze 
 
 From outlaws night and day, 
 
 And squirrels leapt from old Kirklecs, 
 
 Among the ancient forest trees 
 
 To Kirkstall's abbey grey ; 
 
 When Bradford's youths were stout and true, 
 
 Its maids as pure as summer dew, 
 
 And want and care were seldom seen 
 
 Among the ings and holms of green, 
 
 Beside an oak in th' haunted hirst 
 
 And well where wild-boars slaked their thirst 
 
 A beldam dwelt — but whence she sprung 
 
 Is left by ancient bards unsung. 
 
 Hate lurk'd among her wrinkles deep, 
 
 Her laughter caused the flesh to creep, 
 
 The sinful strains at night she'd siDg 
 
 Dark shadows o'er the moon would bring, 
 
 Low echoes moaned the burden dread. 
 
 And the ket-crow sat above her head. 
 
 Sono. 
 
 Come cummers a crone is no cumber, 
 No wither'd old fardel of lumber ;
 
 73 
 
 For AsmodeSs, her lord, she oft feasts at her hoard, 
 While honest folk quietly slumber ! 
 
 Mildews and marsh vapours steep her, 
 
 As a night-mare she rides on the sleeper, 
 
 Like a cat unto death she will suck a child's hreath, 
 
 And glare, curse, and spit at the weeper. 
 
 Two imps suck her dugs like two leeches, 
 
 As with tilch'd human libivs she stitches 
 
 A shift that she's made from a shroud half-decayed, 
 
 For a dance at the Sabbath of witches. 
 
 She withers the heart that is sighing, 
 
 As through the night fog she is flying 
 
 On a besom amain, arm'd with dwale and henbane, 
 
 To poison the lips of the dying. 
 
 On a gibbet she sits like a spectre 
 
 In darkness where none can detect her, 
 
 When the wind swings the corse and the raven croaks hoarso 
 
 "With her talons she is a dissector. 
 
 She drinks to Asmodeus her henchman, 
 
 And shrieks as the ghosts of the slain can ; 
 
 Her liquor is brew'd from the rabid wolfs blood 
 
 And quaffed from a murderer's brain-pan. 
 
 Her tasks at midnight she pursued, 
 And henbane, dill, and nightshade brew'd, 
 And her familiar brought her warm 
 From Erebus, spell, philtre, charm — 
 And old sworn friends fell out and wrangled, 
 And matrons with their husbands jangled, 
 And youths hi gao dissimulation, 
 And maids to dress above their station, 
 The smith i.d locks, 
 
 And l" adli rail ed thi pariah Btocks, 
 Ami la in Hocks like kites, 
 
 And tipstaff knavi round o' nights, 
 
 J -it were cli och'd and eve teeth-hare, 
 hhours ruggi d tl bbours' hair, 
 
 Do ! all oi| lit us if in <ln 
 
 The i" >iilt r lid, 
 
 The ball w< nt mad and gori d the rams, 
 
 their lambs, 
 The akri op'd at witching hour, 
 
 Ami the old dm md milk turn'd BOW, 
 
 And man,- b dreadful sign and omen, 
 
 Foreboded btill more mischief coming,
 
 74 
 
 Till all bedevilled raised a curse 
 
 On her of all their ills the source. 
 
 At length a mighty tempest roar'd 
 
 And hail and lire together pour'd, 
 
 Tall trees went crashing to the ground, 
 
 And herds were kill'd and flocks were drown'd. 
 
 The clouds and night were black as pitch, 
 
 When a horrid clamour from the witch 
 
 Was heard for miles — and scorch'd and torn 
 
 Old Madge lay grinning dead at morn ! 
 
 TO BRO. BEN, OF MOORCOCK HALL. 
 
 :o:- 
 
 Dear Ben,- 
 
 I really dreamt, 'twould seem ; 
 
 For rationally speaking, 
 When folk are sleeping they should dream, 
 
 And not when they are waking. 
 
 Me thought we up Parnassus' height 
 
 Our weary way were wending, 
 And poets on our left and right 
 
 Were noisily ascending. 
 
 In fact, dear Ben, there scem'd a host, 
 
 Elbowing everybody, 
 Swagg'd with religious mungo dust 
 
 And sentimental shoddy. 
 
 The coarse and vulgar dialect 
 
 Of some excited pity ; 
 To bear clown's jargon we expect 
 
 Something at least that's witty. 
 
 "Come on, old chum ! " I cried, " this noise 
 
 Is past my patient bearing ; 
 We'll leave these scrannel poet boys 
 
 To those who give them hearing," 
 
 Soon on the mountain's head, " cloud-capp'd," 
 
 We saw a temple tower, 
 With gates fast closed, at which we rapp'd 
 
 At least a full clock hour.
 
 75 
 
 " Ben, take up stick or stone," said I, 
 
 " My teeth begin to chatter, 
 "lis horrid cold so near the sky ; 
 
 "We'll make a rousing clatter." 
 
 We hang'd like mad, and open -wide 
 
 The portals flew like thunder, 
 And scenes appeared on every side 
 
 That struck us dumb with wonder : 
 
 Apollo sate on cloudy throne, 
 
 On starry " Lyra " strumming ; 
 The tunefid " Nine " around him shone, 
 
 Banjos and fiddles thrumming ; 
 
 And mighty bards, all laurel crown'd, 
 
 Were banqueting and singing ; 
 Carousal through and all around 
 
 The ancient fane was ringing. 
 
 " See, Ben," says I, •« there Pegasus 
 
 Good nectar drinks like water ! 
 Let's in ; There's luck at last for us, 
 
 Our Hanks will soon be fatter." 
 
 When " Back my master's ! "What's your will ?" 
 
 Was shouted just beside us — 
 And who d'ye think it was but Bill 
 
 Wordsworth F Mercy guide us ! 
 
 " What's that to you," I answered ; " we 
 
 Came hither on adventure ; 
 Like you we've spun some rhymes, d'ye- see, 
 
 And like you we will enter." 
 
 " Is that your game," growled he. " Ho ! Burns, 
 Thy ologs and tough plough Borapi t ! 
 
 This knave my j orter spurns, 
 
 Just gar the fellows caper." 
 
 Bums came, half drunk, from nectar cau, 
 
 I . ild, 1" iiutiful and burly ; 
 And down the hills we tuned and ran, 
 
 For faith his looks were surly. 
 
 I woke about the dawn of day, 
 
 My hi art v.iili terror throbbing, 
 A 1 1 • l on my b< cl I bivering lay, 
 
 As naked as a robin.
 
 76 
 WILLIE O'MEARY'S PIG. 
 
 :o:- 
 
 Says Hetty, says lioo, " we're all sinners," says hoc-, 
 " But my word is worth some women's bonil, 
 Haworth folk are all conny and thrifty you know, 
 They certainly think their church steeple too low, 
 But they do not manure it to see if 'twill grow, 
 Nor rake for the moon in the pond. 
 
 Willie O'Mcarys once bought a young pig, 
 It was one of Tom Grindlestone's breed. 
 And he left it to hunt for its grub, and to dig 
 In the gutters and sinks, till it grew up so big 
 That he thought he would give it a feed. 
 
 So a bag of small warty potatoes he bought, 
 
 And some pailfuls of thin stinking swill, 
 
 And a stone of rough bran niix'd with sawdust he got ; 
 
 And a limb of horse-ket for a stomachic brought, 
 
 But never a handful of meal. 
 
 Then he kill'd it ; arid talk went the country round, 
 
 From Ponden all down to Stock-brig, 
 
 Tbat a back-load of thildes and ladles were found 
 
 In its belly ;— and juries of gossips were bound 
 
 That Willie had murdered his pig ! 
 
 I remember the day as 'twere yesterday still ; 
 
 For I'd just got my bed of our Donty. 
 
 And Mauley O'Shallocks had christen d their Bill, 
 
 And the rain burst the bog on the top of Crowbill 
 
 Tbat frightened our good parson Bronte. 
 
 And that very same night there were ycllocks and screams, 
 
 So that Haworth all sweated in bed ; 
 
 For the rain they say hiss'd in the lightning's red streams, — 
 
 And hung with his pig upon one of his beams 
 
 In the morning was Willie found dead 1 
 
 And whether or not ghosts come out for fresh air 
 
 I leave to the knowing and wise, 
 
 And whether you trust me or not I don't care, 
 
 But in ghosts I believe, and I freely declare 
 
 What hundreds have seen with their eyes. 
 
 For ever since then in the night thunder blast 
 
 Running fast may be seen Willie's ghost,
 
 77 
 
 And his pig with a poke in its snout grunting past 
 At his heels, for the meal it was robb'd of a taste, 
 Till hack to his grave Willie hurries at last, 
 And both in the darkness are lost. 
 
 THE DOG AND HARE.— A Fable.* 
 
 By Napoleon Buonaparte I. 
 
 Aide toi el Dieu t'aidera. 
 
 Young Pompey was a dog of price and note, 
 
 A liver-coloured spaniel fleet of foot, 
 
 One day when sniffing round for game, 
 
 Lurk'd on her form he found a hare ; 
 
 " Surrender !" he cried, " I have you there. 
 
 Pompey the Great I am — well known for fame." 
 
 " And if I do surrender — what," 
 
 Said puss, " will be my fate ?" 
 
 "Why, thou shalt die." 
 
 "And if I fly?" 
 
 " Thy fate will be the same; 
 
 I never lose my game." 
 
 " Well, then," said the, " since that's the case, 
 
 I'll try a race ; 
 
 ' Tis better sure to try 
 
 'Gainst fate itself than sit and die." 
 
 And off she started o'er a log, 
 
 The sportsman saw her leap and run, 
 
 And levelling his gun, 
 
 He Bred, and mil ;ed the hare an 1 hit the dog. 
 
 That God helps those who help themselves, I say, 
 
 And would the '.Teat Lafontaine have said nay ? 
 
 * Tlio a n by Napoleon Buonaparte when n 
 
 itud Brienne, in the sixteenth year of bis 
 
 from ' La Minerve," a Frencb Canadian n< 
 
 . . 0, by the Am". 
 
 A SUMMER LYRIC. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 Rofat.ii: ! O rosy ho^ 
 
 irith sun lov'd heavenly dyes,
 
 78 
 
 Butterflies and dappled skies, 
 Honeydew on windy broom, 
 Pansy pink and clover bloom, 
 Incantation, harmony, 
 Beauty's spell and sorcery, 
 Orange wreath or cypress tree, 
 Love's first trance and — Rosalie ! 
 
 Rosalie ! charm, grammarye, 
 Hesper's tear and Zephyr's sigh, 
 Lark ambitious, swallow fleet, 
 Throstlo loud and linnet sweet, 
 Shadow floating o'er the corn, 
 Whispering leaf and beetle's horn 
 Fairy ring and haunted dell, 
 Kiss, embrace, and fond farewell, 
 Orange wreath or cypress tree — 
 Life's eclipse or Rosalie ! 
 
 Rosalie ! from vocal grove 
 Mystic speech of magic love, 
 Thunder-burst from brow of Chevin, 
 Rifting, roaring, blinding", levin, 
 Cloud-ship rigg'd with crimson sails, 
 Rain-arch bridging sparkling dales, 
 Hymn Eoliau nightly sung, 
 Spirit's vigil, passion's tongue, 
 Orange wreath or cypress tree — 
 Courting gentle Rosalie ! 
 
 Courting, wooing Rosalie, 
 Saffron hill and dreamy bee, 
 Thymy bank and heather bell, 
 Ladysmock and aspoilel, 
 Meadowsweet and trysted bower, 
 Shepheid'sclock and witching hour, 
 Footpath lonely, shadow brown, 
 Dian chastely smiling down, 
 Orange wreath no cypress tree — 
 Wooing, winning Rosalie ! 
 
 A HYMN. 
 
 Boar wittifsi <-nrlli mill henvpn above 
 
 Tlmt love in (joil mid God is love.— 1 John, iv, 7. 
 
 Evolve the fiery letter'd writ, 
 The Logos of the starry quires,
 
 79 
 
 The lyric of the Infinite, 
 The gospel of Seraphic fires. 
 The temple glistens — in my heart ; 
 Sky music swells from Asaph's band 
 Invoke the royal Hebrew's art, 
 The Magus of the morning land. 
 
 There is a bright and golden strand, 
 Where underneath revolves the moon, 
 Where Glory waves his jewell'd wand 
 And angels ring in Eden's noon. 
 There sound the harps of myriads gone, 
 There youth and beauty brightly blend, 
 Love claims his own beloved one, 
 And sacred friendships know no end. 
 
 The snn sleeps in his rosy sheen, 
 On amaranthine mountains there, 
 No foot-print seen of death has been 
 To blight a joy or raise a tear ; 
 0( 1' -tial manna falls like dew, 
 Hope's sinking star they ne'er behold : 
 There living fountain's waters blue 
 Symphonions charm the age of gold. 
 
 Delirious bliss ; heights too sublime, 
 Imperial I ove ascends His throne, 
 His Bpeech through all that glorious clime, 
 • itnde's hosannah's own, 
 i down the mundane harp — its voice 
 Is harah as winter's midni orm, 
 
 Ye heaven of h< 1 earth rejoice, 
 
 God magnifies his humble worm. 
 
 THE SKYLARK. 
 
 Tnr. son of Aurora was op in the sky, 
 The bonndli tei rible sky, 
 
 The bard in liis niood saw the the ryo, 
 
 Shadow b po on the rj e. 
 
 " Tr! lid he, " happy bird of the morn, 
 
 " What is the mi ed of thy mu i'-il tn at, 
 
 W< it thou in, i i,i id r in bio "in Mud corn, 
 
 in ling dew-worm below with thy mate 7"
 
 80 
 
 " Read me, bard, on my minaret dim, 
 
 Read Natnrc's volume of wisdom sublime, 
 Mine is the mystical language of Him, 
 
 Tbe still and small voice from tbe altar of Him. 
 Birds of tbe cloudland and birds of tbe bower, 
 
 Sounds from tbe sbades of tbe wilderness grim, 
 Lamb tempests booming, and bailstorms tbat pour, 
 
 Arc but tbe wonderful organs of Him. 
 
 " See'st thou His arm, with His brand and His bow; 
 
 Can'st thou divine tbe deep myths of the pole ? 
 Read'st thou His name, as the characters glow, 
 
 Inwove in His glorious aureole ? 
 Love in my bosom and joy on my wing — 
 
 Breasting tbe winds as they merrily go ; 
 Listen my pipe, as the angel of Spring, 
 
 Raining a torrent of silver below. 
 
 " Up with the strain to mid-heaven again, 
 
 Merrily 0, so merrily, O ; 
 Wisdom is plain in the wind and the rain, 
 
 Innocence ever sang cheerily, 0. 
 Know'st thou the gamut of planet and star ? 
 
 Fill'd with their melodies, ether I swim. 
 Syrian sages, with reverent ear, 
 
 Wrote on then- hearts the dark sayings of Him." 
 
 Rapt was the minstrel in visions of Love — 
 
 Love but revealed to the children of love — 
 Windows of heaven were opened above, 
 
 Deluging glories from oceans above. 
 Sing, happy lark, while the elements roar, 
 
 Steps of the ladder of Jacob we clinib, 
 Like thee and Seraphim, singing we soar, 
 
 When we become but the organs of Him. 
 
 MERRITED TRUE LOVE. 
 
 'Twas not because my Ann Carlyle, 
 Had locks as dark as night, 
 
 Or through her modest dimpling smile 
 Her eyes flash'd heaven's light. 
 
 'Twas not because her neck was white
 
 I 
 
 81 
 
 Its sun-kiss'd vestal snow, 
 Nor that her tiny feet were light, 
 I woo'J and lov'd her so. 
 
 'Twas not because retiring shame, 
 
 With trustful plances strove, 
 And rosy blushes went and came, 
 
 Whene'er I whispered love ; 
 Nor that because her gentle breast 
 
 Was free from fraud and guile, — 
 Or virtue pure her soul had blest, 
 
 I wedded Ann Carlyle. 
 
 'Twas not that voice like music low, 
 
 From lips that knew no sin, 
 As birds sang from the chesnut bough, 
 
 And summer eves shut in ; 
 It was not these made mine surpass, 
 
 Affection's common bound 
 But for her sleepless goodness 'twas, 
 
 That planted Eden round. 
 
 THE RAPARREE. 
 
 Sao rantingly, aae wantonly, 
 
 Sao danntin i;e, 
 
 He i 'la;. prii . ad danced around, 
 
 - i n.D Song. 
 
 His mother danced whin she was big 
 
 Wid Shan from night to morn, 
 And Shiinkick'd up a Carrick jig 
 
 The in unto he was bora. 
 When but a gossoon in the dark 
 
 He dana i wid Moyl'e banshee, 
 And soon became St. Nichol's dark, — 
 
 A roaring rappai 
 
 He ; ae dart; eh 
 
 Wid i real and shniall ; 
 
 Wid twintj divils on his track, 
 
 Ho d 
 II. I taehe I i Qnei a 
 
 A riggadoon to dam 
 Whack big John Boll, the old spal] 
 
 And l;i Hi. (1 I 
 
 He ' ; Id Biddy Flannagan,
 
 82 
 
 And blue-eyed Kate Magee ; 
 And still they sigh in Monaghan 
 For Shan the rapparee. 
 
 Ho danced, that you -would think 'twas jist 
 
 Like moonlight on the say, 
 Or like a shallop troo the mist 
 
 Up stormy Dublin Bay. 
 He danced old Erin oft across, 
 
 Wid fairies on the spree, 
 And dwelt in storms on moor and moss, — 
 
 Red Shan, the rapparree. 
 
 At whiskey keg, or pratee pot, 
 
 His likes you never saw ; 
 He was an Oirisk pathriot, 
 
 And hated lord and law, 
 At last he danced a fearful spring, 
 
 And thousands came to see, 
 On nothing dance bis farewell fling, 
 
 Bold Shan the rapparree. 
 
 Och, wishastrue ! come to his wake ! 
 
 Och, hone ! bring shwipes galore ; 
 Lashings and layings fcr his sake 
 
 Shall flood the shibbecn floor. 
 Shtroik up your poipes, ye durty baste, 
 
 The crather hand to me, 
 I'll give tbe party corpse a taste, 
 
 The darlint rapparree. 
 
 PART OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF ST. MAT. 
 VERSIFIED. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Before yo ask — your Father's eyes, 
 
 Your needs with pity see ; 
 And in tin's pure and humble guise, 
 
 In spirit poor pray ye. 
 
 Our father in the heavens thy throne, 
 
 All hallow'd he thy name ; 
 Tby kingdom come Thy will be done, 
 
 In heaven and earth tbe same. 
 
 Still may we from thy bounty free, 
 Our daily bread receive ;
 
 83 
 
 Forgive our many debts as we 
 
 Our debtors to forgi 
 Lead not into temptations thrall — 
 
 Cause evils far to flee, — 
 And kingdom power and glory all , 
 
 Thine evermore shall be. 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF A FRIEND. 
 
 Again*, yawning grave, thou hast gulph'd up another, 
 Again, cruel death, thou hast flesh'dthy dread dart, 
 
 For the banqueting worm thou hast serv'd up a brother, 
 To gambol and feast in his excellent heart ! 
 
 But we lift not the shroud the loath'd sight to uncover, 
 The wrecks of humanity sweetly shall rest ; 
 
 But we ask thee, fell death, why thy wings seem to hover 
 1 >'i i- all, to make choice of the kindest and best.? 
 
 But thou hast tli- i. thy mandate from heaven, 
 
 'Tis mercy directs tin e what bosom to hit ; 
 
 And tho', aB with thunder, scath'd, Bhatter'd, and riven, 
 Our hearts thou hast spared, we weep and submit. 
 
 'Tis finish'd hi-; cruise ;it Vuc fountain is broken, 
 !'• we lulls his soft slumbers, and sits by his head, 
 
 Tin nee of -riif and of sorrow is wroken, 
 
 The travell. I iv, and goue to his b< d. 
 
 By fortune exalt* & alofi to mens's vision, 
 
 Thru headlong to pov< rty Buddenly east; 
 By tho same blind caprice, as the mark of derision, 
 
 Uprooted, he fill li!.'' an oak in t' 
 
 Blow on, wintry wind-, for he marks not your yelling; 
 
 Drive, hail cloud, not, he heeds not, thy roar; 
 
 Look coldly, thou sun, on his damp, narrow dwelling, 
 
 For warmth from thj ive him no more. 
 
 Conn- forth, : pring, i" thy ohaplets of Mowers, 
 
 Thy wonted wild m . iso, 
 
 But careworn and b< lUghi in thy how. 
 
 And found not, what di atb r'd to him,— peace. 
 
 Why ohisel in marble hi i name and hi i Btory .' 
 Why plant the dark oypress to shadow his am?
 
 84 
 
 His name is inscribed, in large letters of glory, 
 
 On hearts, that no cypress needs beckon to mourn. 
 
 Dear friend ! thy tomb sounding lonely and hollow, 
 Reminds us how shallow the draught of man's breath ; 
 
 We flourish awhile, then we fade and we follow 
 Thy steps to the dim, silent chambers of death ! 
 
 THE BANNER BLUE. 
 
 As floats a cloud on eddying gusts when tempests dire arise, 
 And vengeful winter raves and roars, the flag of England flies, 
 It floats as clouds of promise float that shade the thirsty plain ; 
 When husbandmen prognosticate the summers' coming rain, 
 And e'er since when at Crecy and at Poictiers it flew . 
 Has Britain rested confident beneath the banner blue. 
 
 Our banner to our foreign foe is like the dread simoom, 
 Borne by Ballona burning blue o'er fields of blood and foam ; 
 Death madly rides along its path, and horrid is his frown, 
 As britons like strong reapers mow their iron legions down ; 
 Imperial heads before it bow, and nations cringe and sue, 
 When freedom's dreadful whirlwinds rise and bear the banner 
 
 blue. 
 Through -wildest storms that ever roll'd the billows of the deep • 
 Our British navies ride along in grand victorious sweep ; 
 When murderous vollies boom, and thunder belching death and 
 
 fear, 
 And hoary waves and blackened skies, a blazing girdle wear. 
 "When red-hot balls like levin bolts to hate and vengeance true , 
 Shake earth and sky — its eagle flight still keeps our banner blue. 
 
 The bearing of the briton bold, bis dignity and'might, 
 The vastness of his treasury — his intellectual light ; 
 His honour and his bravery that set his island free, 
 A beacon-star for other lands, far shining o'er the sea ; 
 His art and science, peace and law, and his religion grew, 
 Encouraged and protected by the glorious banner blue. 
 
 A HYMN. 
 
 ' Bless the Lord. O my soul, and forgot not all His benefits. Ps. 103. 2. 
 
 In earthly joys I'll ne'er forget, 
 The mighty mind that taught ;
 
 85 
 
 And gave me when in weakness left, 
 The mystic strength I sought. 
 
 When in the midst of mirthfulness, 
 And songs and jests go round ; 
 
 I'll think of Him who freedom gave, 
 And loos'd my spirit hound. 
 
 When shines the sun of lovely June, 
 From burning Leo's sphere ; 
 
 And gossamers float on the wind, 
 And sounds of summer cheer. 
 
 When down the lawn the lev'rets rove, 
 And round me hums the bee ; 
 
 And never tired of carolling, 
 The throstle sits the tree. 
 
 When hare-bells drink the early dew, 
 
 And merry stars appear ; 
 In scenes I lov'd in infancy, 
 
 And unto manhood dear. 
 
 I'll think of Him who from mine eyes, 
 
 The veil of error tore ; 
 And pointed to where summer reigns, 
 
 And winter is no more. 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE CORN BILL. 
 
 (Written before the Repeal of the Corn Laws.) 
 
 As Lucifor sat in his council below 
 
 O'er debate to i uforoe hi- decision, 
 
 Hi- muter roll conning, and marking it grow, 
 
 With Ore-traced oami - for i" rditiou : 
 
 Scrutinizing dark deeds with accustomed o 
 
 And judicial gravity ov.r, 
 
 And thinking BOme sin from the world's upper air, 
 
 Of a now 1 at -i'/ii t>> discover. 
 
 riking his eye hut those haokney'd and worn, 
 Till their horron u i m'd I all horrid, 
 
 " The features <>f death," be exolaimed with scorn, 
 " In England will soon '"■ thought florid I" 
 
 Then harshly In- oall'd from his bnrning divanj 
 Dark, moody, and ik-rec M a Gorgon ;
 
 86 
 
 " Hark ye, Maminon, thou cleverest fiend of thy dim, 
 Thou'lt soon be my laziest organ ? 
 
 " Old England's hierarchy forms no new scheme 
 Of plausible human blood suction ; 
 Her mad Aristocracy dream the old dream, 
 Of honour and warlike destruction ! 
 
 " Come ! hast thou no scourge to her governments' taste — 
 
 New treachery, fraud, or coercion? 
 
 If thou hast, bring it out with all possible haste, 
 
 We want it for further diversion !" 
 
 " Why, I've one," growled Mammon (and bowed) " that I made, 
 
 But I fear'd it would scarcely be civil, 
 
 To bring't into court, for 'tis really too bad, 
 
 Even to offer to you, my lord Devil ! 
 
 " It is a quintessence of every crime ; 
 
 It will ruin the mightiest nation ; 
 
 A foul pestilential abortion of time ; 
 
 'Tis a Dearth-bill foe grisly starvation !" 
 
 Each fiend started back, and all Hell gave a shout, 
 Till earth heard the loud acclamation ; 
 And all the grim senate with Mammon rushed out 
 To see it in quick operation. 
 
 SONG. 
 — :o: — 
 
 Young Oswald rode down yonder glen, 
 
 Sing dewy meads are bonny : 
 Young Axaminta met his ken, 
 
 When banks of Aire were sunny. 
 
 Do angels sometimes visit here, 
 
 Sing Throstles call so cheerly ; 
 Be mine, my love, my only dear, 
 
 For linnets wake so early. 
 
 They lov'd they kiss'd while leaves were green 
 
 Sing Flora smiles but curtly ; 
 And Oswald came, and went unseen, 
 
 The cuckoo sings but shortly.
 
 87 
 
 Aye, clasp thy baby to thy breast, 
 Sing Joy we taste but barely ; 
 
 Forever lost thy virgin rest, 
 We pay for pleasure clearly. 
 
 OLD DONALD'S LAMENT. 
 
 •:o:- 
 
 No more boni' and, though happy and braw, 
 
 Though thy mavis and lavrock sing still through the lea, 
 No more the lov'd songs of the strath and the shaw, 
 
 Or the olond-kilted mountains are charming to me. 
 The wild spreading hawthorn in sweet summer hloom, 
 
 Tin- breeze of the gloaming that plays with the broom, 
 Or the burn rushing past like a war-horse in foam, 
 
 Cheer not an old bosom that's weary and wae. 
 
 No more the snell storm that sets dark in the lift, 
 W'litn the Bhelt - sotia arc hrown, 
 
 When the birdiee white drift, 
 
 And the blue-belle an 1 are failed and gone. 
 
 ore the Li i's dark felld 
 
 wild son;; of battle thai rouses the blood, 
 Or tlie loud ringing laugh and the kiss oft rent wed, 
 
 That still charm tiie Ion;,' winter can banish my wae. 
 
 1. Qg, long, has my Annie laid mouldering and cold, 
 
 The friend of in v 1 ne, 
 
 The kve that 1 tended ha-. :■ Ion.' li ft the told, 
 
 And tie- col which i i . and lone, 
 
 My frame 18 all l QOW, 
 
 The pastime 
 My measure i - full and I 
 
 The glamour of tim< in and bi 
 
 Their love.-, and th< Lr pli i ra^ic and hloom, 
 
 way 
 tomb ?" 
 
 To mix with : 
 
 That takes the dark ocean, all lonely and who,
 
 88 
 NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL SPRING. 
 
 "lis a happy time for 'wandering, 
 
 'When youth is in its glee, 
 When virgin spring is squandering 
 
 Her jewels o'er the lea. 
 "When by the stream meandering, 
 
 Birds sing from tree to tree, 
 And winters tempests thundering, 
 
 Give way to Zephyrs free. 
 
 ■When the bonny moon unclosiug 
 
 Her silver chamber door, 
 Walks o'er the mountains dozing 
 
 Upon her starry floor. 
 Whilst love is soft reposing, 
 
 In yet unbligbted flower, 
 Or on the dew carousing, 
 
 In mornings golden hour. 
 
 Blest spring of souls awaking, 
 
 When wintry time is past ; 
 When light and life are breaking 
 
 Their mortal bonds at last. 
 When cheerfully forsaking 
 
 Earths cold and barren waste, 
 With thy day of farewell taking, 
 
 Haste on thy pinions haste. 
 
 Heavens mountains in the morning, 
 
 In purple light appear, 
 Life's trees to flower returning, 
 
 Then- varied mantles wear. 
 Where the heart new songs is learning, 
 
 To bless the sabbath year, 
 My soul is inly burning, 
 
 For Love's green dwellings there. 
 
 A SIGH FOR LORD BROUGHAM. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Earth to earth and dust to dust ! 
 
 In death's cold chambers room, more room !
 
 89 
 
 Crowds into their portals thrust : 
 Room for millions yet to come. 
 
 Moulder, monument and bust ; 
 
 Moulder fast : more room, more room ! 
 'Scutcheons over 'scutcheons thrust, 
 
 Countless 'scutcheons y it to come. 
 
 Soul and body, tomb and name, 
 Memorials of the past, make way : 
 
 Dim aud dimmer wanes your fame, 
 Bebind the famous of to-day 
 
 Thinner grow your misty forms, 
 Ye mighty and renowned of yore ; 
 
 Faster feed yo hungry worms, 
 
 The grave is bowling " More, give more !" 
 
 Lore, ambition, love, and crime, 
 Make way, make way for others nigh ; 
 
 Ripples on tbe flood of time, 
 Glided bubbles, huiry by. 
 
 Flow on, ye cataracts of tears, 
 Through generations onward flow ; 
 
 Increasing with revolving years. 
 Flow sadly to tbe gulf of woe. 
 
 Go, Brougham, go, in Lethe's stream, 
 Among ad good forgot ; 
 
 [e lilu- a bright but transient beam : 
 u thine must be the common lot. 
 
 Moulder, monument and bust ; 
 
 t : more room, more room ! 
 atcheon i atcheon thrust, 
 
 Countless 'scutcheons yet to come. 
 
 TO MY NEW BORN CHILD. 
 
 -:o: 
 
 Omb all Ir, '<li and bright) 
 
 Strang* r in Icome to the light ; 
 
 1   t i.i .-I fuiih i 
 
 Subject kher'a prayers ; 
 
 Unto Life's unhappy rail . 
 
 PON immortul spirit hail.
 
 90 
 
 In thine infant features shine, 
 Angel's lineaments divine ; 
 
 In thy sweetly dawning smile, 
 Lurks no trace of fraud or guile, 
 
 Thy young heart unstain'd with sin ; 
 Beats to heaven's strains within. 
 
 As in rosy vernal hour, 
 
 Opes to light the tender flower ; 
 From thy maker fresh art thou. 
 
 Beautious as the mornings hrow, 
 Emanation from above, 
 
 Fair as new created love. 
 
 Softly on thy mother's knee, 
 Sleep — affection cradles thee ; 
 
 Sleep, whilst angels in thy rest 
 Charm with music of the blest, 
 
 Time in tears thine eyes may steep ; 
 Sorrow soon forbid to sleep. 
 
 Hygeian airs thy steps attend, 
 Truth be thine instructing friend ; 
 
 Heaveu opening on thine age, 
 Light thee from this mortal stage ; 
 
 Smiles and blessings welcome thee, 
 Child of immortality. 
 
 TO MARY. 
 
 :o: 
 
 In short liv'd beauty, Mary, 
 
 Earth's flowers expose their dyes, 
 But there's a region, Mary, 
 
 Where flowers of life arise. 
 In the sunbeams of th' Eternal, 
 
 They ope their radiant eyes, 
 For delights for ever vernal 
 
 Are the blossoms of the skies. 
 
 There are comely features, Mary, 
 Where evil fills the breast, 
 
 And forms of beauty, Mary, 
 Where serpents make their ne St.
 
 91 
 
 But inward beauty's traces, 
 
 Are wisdom's true love test 
 And affection's sunny graces 
 
 Fonn the faces of the blest. 
 
 In outward beauty, Mary, 
 
 Thou canst with any shine, 
 Let inward beauty, Mary, 
 
 In constant bloom be thine. 
 For here the sickly blossom 
 
 May shortly fade and pine ; 
 But the blossom of the bosom 
 
 Shall bloom in climes divine. 
 
 Though thou'rt neglected, Mary, 
 
 Teach not thiue eyes to rove ; 
 Earth's love is fickle, Mary, 
 
 Unchanging heaven is love ; 
 Affections here unspoken 
 
 Are sweetly interwove ; 
 There is heal'd the heart that's broken- 
 
 The sad are cheer' d above. 
 
 LOYE. 
 
 ■:o: 
 
 Love enters the heart when 'tis tender and young, 
 And its rich Eden blossoms unfold ; 
 He looks through the eyes and lie sits on the tongue, 
 And he whispers of joys never said, never sung, 
 Jn Saturnian ages of gold. 
 
 lie seek! the rude cot of the humble and poor, 
 
 And the riches of Onnus he bring 
 
 Ho enters the palace, and sadness no more 
 
 Dims the sheen of it.-* pomp, For he lives at the coro 
 
 Of the hopes and the pleasures of kings. 
 
 II. in-, athi on U . arth, and 'tis covered with ilowers- 
 Bilver fountains in melody 
 II. looks from ti lip'd hours, 
 
 Come dancing to wak< d the birds in the how. i 
 'Mong the gre< n lea irble and wing. 
 
 He curbs th< bla< when at midnight 'tis rolled 
 
 To the wan mooo in tempesi sublime, 
 
 And the isles of the ocean their glories unfold,
 
 92 
 
 Like emeralds, cinctured with azure aud gold, 
 As the first emanations of time. 
 
 Like a regal magician he waves his weird wand, 
 
 And smooths hoary winter's rough brow ; 
 
 And the storm enthroned thunders that howl o'er the land 
 
 Are hush'd. With a touch of his beautiful hand — 
 
 Burn with crimson the mountains of snow. 
 
 He strikes the bright chords of the spheres, and they ring 
 
 Through the deep diapason divine ; 
 
 And the garlanded angels the brightest stars bring, 
 
 From creation's blue connnes, to crown him a king, 
 
 In the mid empyrean to sbine. 
 
 THE SAILOR. 
 
 Summer roses blithly blow, 
 
 Summer suns are beaming, Love ; 
 Happy nature singing now 
 
 Seems of Eden dreaming, Love : 
 Beauty, health, and wealth are mine, 
 
 Servants round me handy, Love ; 
 Jewels, silks, and velvets fine — 
 
 But, oh ! I have not Sandy, Love ! 
 
 He left me with a rising tear, 
 
 He bade me still be cheery, Love ; 
 But till his flag again appears, 
 
 I'll weep and ne'er bo weaiy, Love. 
 In jacket blue and Albert chain. 
 
 He is a tarry dandy, Love ; 
 He cruises on the Spanish main, 
 
 My jovial sailor Sandy, Love 
 
 He merrily dances on his craft, 
 
 Boreas for his piper, Love : 
 O'er the snoring seas abaft 
 
 Cheerily shouts my skipper, Love ; 
 I've winks, and smiles, aud blushes red 
 
 From rollicking lads and randy, Love ; 
 But I will only, only wed 
 
 With bold and burly Sandy, Love.
 
 93 
 
 When down the lawn young feet are light, 
 
 And barely ding the daisy, Love, 
 When lips are luscious, eyes are bright, 
 
 And mirth runs wild and mazy, Love, 
 When many a stolen kiss is felt 
 
 Like candy dipped in brandy, Love, 
 My weary heart begins to melt 
 
 To tears for absent Sandy, Love ! 
 
 THE COQUETTE. 
 
 Summer was young and barley green, 
 Blossoms had snowed the way ; 
 
 When Emily sighed in leafy screen, — 
 " I am twenty-nine to-day ! 
 
 " Unmarried, unhappy, and all alone, 
 By folly ami pride betrayed, 
 
 My jilted lovers have one by one 
 Resigned me to die a maid ! 
 
 " woe betide my stars and me, 
 
 To linger, by love nnbli st ; 
 An apple to wither upon tho tree, 
 
 A flower on no one's breast !" 
 
 Her eyes were wet ; a swain she met : 
 Good heaven, but she was fain! 
 
 When he sang to the rueful sad copuette 
 An old song over again. 
 
 " Heigh bo ! marry me, love ! 
 I: igee Boon decay ; 
 
 e Li the hearl of the gentle d)\e 
 Tha» l ads th< I-'.' 9 of Ma 
 
 " Bummer dews are falling chill, 
 
 Nigl ' I In .ir : 
 
 Bnl thy sweet accents ever will 
 To me be donblj dear. 
 
 •• N'.i Bqnire am I of gentle grade, — 
 
 Iffy hand and heart are free, — 
 I am hut a simple tnip by trade. 
 And huiubh
 
 94 
 
 " Sing thimbleduni, ncedledum, marry me, dear ; 
 
 Pity to say me nay ; 
 Cabbage and goose is dainty cheer, 
 
 Remnant fents are gay." 
 
 Then, all unheard, like mateless bird, 
 
 She sang in an undertone, — 
 " Humph ! ha! a tailor ! good Lord ! 
 
 Well ! any, good Lord, and soon !" 
 
 A SERENADE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Fairies wear garments the star- glances weave ; 
 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileon aroon ! 
 Come like the dew to the bosom of eve ; 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon. 
 Love leads the brave o'er the dark, boiling main ; 
 Love will return to his nest back again. 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 
 Myrtle groves whisper "Why lingers my dear ?" 
 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 None but the angels of beauty arc near, 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 Think of thy tryst, for no more we may meet : 
 Fair blows the wind and impatient the fleet. 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 
 Laurels are gather' d iu tempest "and flame ; 
 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 Danger is guard over gloi-y and fame ; 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 Maid of Avoca, I languish alone, 
 Naiads are singing and bathing the moon ; 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon I 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 
 Mariners dare the wild breakers ahead ; 
 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon, 
 Love is their shield when the battle is red ; 
 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ;
 
 95 
 
 Speak but once only and cheer my fond heart, 
 Smile but once only before I depart ; 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 Aileen na Eireen, oh Aileen aroon ! 
 
 THE GENIUS OF MAN. 
 
 'Twas when rrreen summer was gone, 
 
 And rustling leaves were sere, 
 And stacks were thatched and harvest done, 
 
 And plenty crowned the year. 
 
 Not a bird crave a friendly trill, 
 
 Save roliin upon the byre, 
 For far away o'er ((ipse and hill 
 
 Had flitted the plumy quire. 
 
 i by the , with beard, 
 
 Like mist on November's sky. 
 Sitting I found a Btranger wierd, 
 Who beckoned as I passed by. 
 
 " Old man, is it charity 
 
 Thy soiv (1j onld crave ? 
 
 litl e to give to thee, 
 E'en should I give all I have. 
 
 With a grin of derision he said, 
 " On a bright and golden day, 
 
   >f charity, earthward I sped, 
 But cov( '■ '1 wealth and sway. 
 
 I one of tin flrsl to rebel, 
 With Satan 1 lc.l the van, 
 
 And down with the infidel crew I fell, 
 And tin- [rOE 
 
 W th mnrdi arm* 1 
 
 I motmte I Belloo 
 And earth and lull t. ilarmed 
 
 b ti.e Same cyclone i of war. 
 
 My burning ehai 
 
 II' n dread can i r, 
 
 M Far outstrip the mn 
 
 To the gaol of the rolling year.
 
 96 
 
 I measure the morning star 
 
 The inoonland's regions trace, 
 I ride the comet, the herald of war, 
 
 To his stall in th' abyss of Bpa38. 
 
 Creations passed away, 
 
 I call from their tombs of earth, 
 And the uncouth forms of Time's first day 
 
 In hideous life come forth. 
 
 I open the gates of light, 
 
 Unbar the doors of gloom, 
 Bring forth the unborn horrors of night, 
 
 Or births from the morning's womb. 
 
 With me both the Church and State 
 
 To the demon of 'selfhood' bow, 
 My ministers mete out human fate — 
 
 Omnipotent here below. 
 
 My favours I heap on the few, 
 
 And the many are quite forgot, 
 Though my mission uuknown to the infidel crew 
 
 Was to better humanity's lot." 
 
 " Enough, dread figure, enough, 
 
 But wl erefore so far away 
 From heavenly duty— pity proof, 
 
 Still ui tapentant, say?" 
 
 Like a demon he frowned and passed 
 
 Away from the cold grey stone ; 
 And poverty called in the biting blast 
 
 On merciless genius gone. 
 
 WOMAN. 
 To the Fbiends of Feminine Enfkanchisement. 
 
 That the male represents ui derstanding alone, 
 
 May be seoi from his form, feature, bearing, and tone, 
 
 And the female its constant affection ; 
 
 In heaven, earth, hell, both the sexes arc one, 
 
 And from Scripture and Nature the fiat has gone — 
 " Beware bow you break the connection." 
 
 Woman, man's duplicate, outer man, mate,
 
 97 
 
 Is his own alter ipse, soul's speculum, fate, 
 He her inmost ; as she is his outer ; 
 
 He plays on her every affection at will, 
 And woe unto tact, talent, genius, or skill 
 
 That would live, thrive, or flourish, without her. 
 
 She's a wanton and frow with the Latter-Day Saints ; 
 
 With the Ranter she wrestles, and shrieks till she faints, 
 When the ears of the pious, he's dinning ; 
 
 With the Friends she is mute, in a leaden hued hat, 
 Unsex'd as a nun ; with the Church of the State 
 
 She'll crow " as it was in the beginning." 
 
 She's the soMier's dear trull and the sailor's pet callet, 
 A queen to a king, and a cadger's safe wallet, 
 
 Will rake with the rakes deepest folly ; 
 
 She mates with philosopher, statesman, and e'en 
 
 When matched for her sins with a poet, I've seen 
 Her jauntily wear the green holly. 
 
 She weds at a venture and misery dares, 
 
 Unravels the most complicated affairs ; 
 And (tbis secret I don't wish to go forth 
 
 For heaven fori fend I 6hould slander or vox), 
 'Tis said, aye, and sung, that the scum of the sex 
 
 For base kelter would many— and so forth. 
 
 More than brother to brother a sister is dear ; 
 
 To her more than mother a father is near, 
 Though both were base, brutal, and callous; 
 
 A mother will cling with death-grasp to her son, 
 And though crimson'd with crime, to her arms ho can run, 
 
 When a fugitive, chased by the gallows. 
 
 Savage or eivil, as man's bad or good, 
 
 Personified passion of every mood, 
 She's man's wife, marrow, kman, and doxy ; 
 
 Bis wealth, fr i, I ours, and pleasures aro hore, 
 
 Her lot is tho first of his tendcrest cares, 
 
 And her vote will be always his proxy. 
 
 DUNHAYKN 
 
 
 Ever reign in my ion] oried the gallant Dunrnven , 
 Tbou bright emanation of beauty and love ; 
 u
 
 98 
 
 Though princesses smile bright as morn on Lochlevon, 
 No treacherous pulse in niy bosom would move. 
 
 My heart's own young lord sigh'd the maid with emotion, 
 Wo know not our hearts, and an earl's least of all ; 
 
 I will wait one long year while you cross the vast ocean, 
 Then pledge thee my troth in my ancestral hall, 
 
 At eve his last kiss on her lips he left glowing, 
 The sun rising, saw his white sail on the sea, 
 
 And soon the green shores of the Arno deep flowing, 
 He trod with the step of the noble and free. 
 
 The rose bowers of Florence blushed bright at his coming, 
 And princesses smiled as they saw hirn advance, 
 
 Proud was the dame that the Lord of Dunraven 
 Selected to tread the light maze of the dance. 
 
 Then little reck'd he of his young bosom warming, 
 As he strove the coy smiles of a stranger to win, 
 
 Little thought he of the danger so charming 
 
 To his honour, his faith, and the maid of Lochlin. 
 
 " Dunraven," she 6ighed, as they stood by a fountain, 
 " My troth to another is plighted and given, 
 
 My home is afar by the flood and the mountain, 
 My vows are enrolled in the archives of heaven. 
 
 " Is there not one in thy Caledon loves thee, 
 Not one distant maid thy heart throbs for alone, 
 
 Not one sacred pledge that a lovo-traitor proves thee?" 
 *' By heaven !" falsely answered Dunraven, '• Not one." 
 
 Her veil laid aside — in the fountain's bright waters, 
 She washed off the stain that had darkened her skin, 
 
 And before him she stood one of Caledon's daughters 
 Outraged and betray'd the sweet maid of Lochlin. 
 
 She fled, and he wandered through foreign lands many, 
 Again for his own the dear lost one to win, 
 
 And Dunraven grew grey, but he never found any 
 To lovo like his dear mountain maid of Lochlin. 
 
 DISPUTE OF THE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. 
 :o:   
 
 One night as I pass'd by light of the gas, 
 Near a musical instruments shop ;
 
 99 
 
 I heard a loml noise and to learn what there was, 
 That occasioned it made a full stop. 
 
 With what wonder I stared, when from every nook 
 
 Angry voices distinctly I heard ; 
 For as I'm alive every instrument spoke, 
 
 And I'll strive to repeat every word. 
 
 Said Organ my lineage is old you all know, 
 
 And the worship of God is my pride ; 
 I could drown all your voices when loudly I hlow, 
 
 That I'm chief never can be denied. 
 
 Heard ye that growl'd a deep hollow double Bassoon, 
 
 Drown music aye, so may an ass ; 
 But I'll make it appear before everyone, 
 
 The foundation of music is bass. 
 
 If you talk about chieftainship I mast 6tep forth, 
 Squeak'd Fife then I tbink you'll be dumb, 
 
 I have led forth the Briton to conquer the earth 
 With my rub-a-dub friend Kettle-drum. 
 
 What ! rung an upright Piano's rich tone, 
 
 Greatest right to be cbi f I can show ; 
 With the nobles I dwell in the gilded saloon, 
 
 And the queen's my admirer you know. 
 
 Then several shouted at once in a rage, 
 
 With a loud gallimaufry din ; 
 And I heard an Hibernian basr-pipo engage, 
 
 In a lilt and 'twas " Brian O'Linn. 
 
 Silence again in the shop was restor'd 
 
 And a Harp in sweet accents began, 
 All poeta have Bailed mo tho instruments lord, 
 
 1 1 both by angel and man. 
 
 In heaven — beg pardon — must speak Mr. Harp, 
 
 Squeak'd a Fiddle. No poets believe : 
 They oan lie like the fiend -but we know the B sharp, 
 
 We're too cute f to deoeive. 
 
 By all who've hail any | to taste, 
 
 In my pn enee it oft has bei o said; 
 That for loope I'm the chief bo your breath Jo not waste, 
 
 For tli 1. 
 
 chief I began Trumpet to lustily blow, 
 i\. i - • i : 1 your oa o break ; 
 
 You're a Billy ■•■ ot !"') u t all of us K 
 For it is from your bully you speak.
 
 100 
 
 No violence! twenty call'd out in a breath, 
 
 And directly I heard such a smash ; 
 I thought there are certainly bruises or death, 
 
 For I heard the poor Fiddle cry crash. 
 
 But a crack of loud laughter within met my ear, 
 Which I held as if nailed to the door ; 
 
 For the fool of a Fiddle in bodily fear, 
 Had leap'd down from the wall to the floor. 
 
 All was silent again till a Dulcimer snored, 
 Lack-a-day and what shall we hear next ; 
 
 A Jewtrump asks just but to utter a word, 
 And he hopes that none here will be next. 
 
 Quoth an old Hurdy-gurdy he surely wont say, 
 That he's one of the instrument class ; 
 
 If ho does then a pipe made of straw too can play, 
 And a tin penny whistle may pass. 
 
 Ye instruments all with my tongue in the mouth, 
 Hums Jewtrump by all 'tis confess'd ; 
 
 Who understand music this evident truth, 
 That the instrument's best that's played best, 
 
 The church clock struck two as I hurried home fast ; 
 
 For it rain'd on my best Sunday hat ; 
 And the sleepy police must have thought as I pass'd 
 
 I was either a " sharp " or a " flat." 
 
 MORAX. 
 
 Let Phrenologists prate about skulls large and small 
 And their bumps with their callipers span ; 
 
 But the bumps the best play'd on are chiefest of all, 
 For the soul's the musician in man. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO SOUTIIEYAND BYRON'S VISIONS 
 OF JUDGEMENT. 
 
 Thus far no farther go was said to ocean, 
 But not unto the spirit's venturous flight ; 
 
 Assist Urania for my heart's devotion 
 
 Is ever thine. With me ascend the height
 
 101 
 
 Spiritual — for I've got a daring notion, 
 
 To sing of things beyond this solar light ; 
 Pegasus trim thy wings, thy course is bent 
 Out of this dunghill earth,— man's transient settlement. 
 
 Gabriel was lounging on heaven's tower above, 
 
 Smiling at Peter busy pennies summing ; 
 And looking down the deep abyss he strove 
 
 To guess the reason of a noisy coming 
 Tumult below — and spied a red thing move, 
 
 Like rocket rising swiftly in the gloaming 
 Pursued by wild-hru.s — and he cried for love 
 
 Of heaven Peter. " Whats the row down yonder? 
 Is hell's new engine running loose I wonder ?" 
 
 On and enlarging came a horse of fire, 
 
 With two young riders seated on his back, 
 
 Each holding in his grasp a harp whose wire 
 Was finest Ophir gold. The reins lay slack 
 
 Upon the chaiyi r's Deck which seem'd t' aspiro 
 To heaven's third story. After liowl'd a pack 
 
 Of bloodhound critics, as hounds used to do 
 
 In old Virginia with two a view. 
 
 Close fast the portals came a thunder best, 
 
 To make it faster Peter 'gainst it rear'd 
 His huge broad back— when to the spirits blest ; 
 
 An air of music came th ard, 
 
 Enchanted being unused to such a feast — 
 
 (Yet of their carnal appetites afeared,) 
 For saints and angels are compelled to sin:,', 
 Nought but th' "Old hundred" and "My God the spring." 
 
 Saint Peter Btood their passage to dispute, 
 And as when parched Arabs reach a spring 
 
 Of water drank each note; 
 
 Like idiots gazing at the equine thin . 
 
 And all their pious duties quil 
 
 l» ighted to hear Buoh charming ditties ring 
 
 < »n 1 1 . cherub bared ; 
 
 Th" faults of mortal I" ing off their guard. 
 
 Full on the gate they came then ourb'd their stood, 
 
 Rampant onbrol loth 
 
 And both dismount) d— lo e< d — 
 
 And as wayfaring men oppr< is'd with drouth 
 And inn t need : 
 
 I. ick at an Inn. go boldlj knook'd the] both, 
 When Ptter through the. gatfl aik'd who they Were,
 
 102 
 
 From whence they were, and what their business there 
 
 The holder whose tine eyes and ample hrow, 
 And noble bearing show'd him born as one 
 
 To rule replied. " We are well known below 
 To some whose actions fear'd the mid-day sun. 
 
 Byron and Shelley English bards, and now 
 Request protection — for yon hunter's dun 
 
 Are hard upon us — Kind Sir do be civil, 
 
 Unlock the door and save us from the devil." 
 
 I think I've heard some verses which you penn'd 
 
 On Southey — Peter grunted — But you've stolo 
 Look you ; one of Satan's wildest horses friend ; 
 
 *Of that seen in th' Apocalypse the foal, 
 That feeds on meteors — and oft makes an end 
 
 Of worlds ! — and which will suffer no control 
 But his — I marvel how you caught and sat him, 
 For neither saint nor angel dare come at him. 
 At Missolonghi then quoth Byron, when 
 
 I left my corse and wildly stared around, 
 At objects strange I spied this comet, then 
 
 Oft wishing such a steed, I made a bound 
 And fairly strode him — some black ugly den 
 
 I knew he stall'd in — where in woe profound, 
 'Mong smoke and soot with fiends in Hades belly, 
 I guess'd they'd thrust my timid friend poor Shelley. 
 
 Away, away Mazeppa flew no faster, 
 
 Through Tartar wilds — I let him have his way, 
 He whisk'd his fiery tail and caused disaster 
 
 To many a star — till at the shores of day ; 
 He rear'd and kick'd, and tried to doff his master ! 
 
 At one sheer leap he clear'd the gulph which lay 
 Before him, and down Erebus we flew 
 Athwart the lake which Cain saw burn so blue. 
 Hands off Don Soot-bag, Peter harshly cried, 
 
 As the Foulfiend was Shelley rudely seizing ; 
 I'll draw my rusty weapon, yet a word 
 
 From these two spirits; I know to thee displeasing. 
 Thou only art in thine own caverns lord, 
 
 Keep off thy dogs. The story is amazing, 
 This fellow has commenced — in that I see 
 He has outrun, beat, and outwitted thee. 
 
 This said, Old Nick drew back his swarthy crew, 
 The same that raced at Halloway kirk of old ; 
 ' Rev. vi, 0,
 
 103 
 
 And Byron commenced again. I said we flew 
 
 O'er that blue lake which Cain saw and which roll'd 
 
 Its liquid fires as flames like tempest's blew, 
 Fierce as nonvestcrs sweep o'er Thule cold — 
 
 Nor stay'd my horse his speed till on a knoll 
 Of lava hot I found poor Burns's soul. 
 
 Thou here I said, upon this ban-en coast, 
 
 From banks of Ayr 'tis dismal here to dwell ; 
 Ah ! woe is me with groans return'd the ghost, 
 
 All love — song-writers here are doom'd to hell. 
 For sneers at cant, and piety I'm lost ; 
 
 And Holy Willie is in heaven tc swell 
 Its psalmody, with multitudes of others, 
 
 Sav'd by the prayers and pious faith of brothers. 
 
 I crush'd an oath — my temper getting warm, 
 
 And where's Rousseau, Voltaire, Goethe, Scott ? 
 Dibdin, ami shepherd Hogg, whose lyrics charm 
 
 Millions — whose hearts ne'er knew a stain or spot, 
 All damned he sigh'd though never meaning hann, 
 
 Does Campbell too partake their fiery lot ; 
 Shakespear, Hen Johnson, Spencer, Drydeu, Gay, 
 
 Anacreon Hatiz, Petrarch of the ages grey, 
 
 Most of them are lost in Lethe's wave return'd 
 
 The Scottish bard, or in lone places scatter'd — 
 And Shelley good shadow is he extra burn'd, 
 
 Wb<>   priest or preacher flattered; 
 
 I saw him by some canting spirits spuin'd, 
 
 And almost into mince-meat braised and batter'd 
 You'll find him on a pile of up 
 
 Broil'd in the anvenom'd shirt of Hercules. 
 
 So here you've brought him interrupted Peter, 
 
 Could not thf carnal fool have put tile Psalms 
 
 In verse to some hymn tune of trumpet metre, 
 ai or common, or gel pah 
 
 Foi hymns like I A then how much better 
 
 M. ft'i !:.■ would be, when all tin ir conscience qualms 
 
 Were hnsh'd, when every spirit was confided 
 To priests and pr< achers, ln-aveu has always guided. 
 
 Crahb'd P< t. r Boftened by their tab • of pain, 
 
 1 peotorated then, and mused, 
 
 Then said to look for p onies were m vain, 
 
 And though fox love to ope U • b >> > 
 They might have enl it be vow'd " Again, 
 
 All spirits penniless would be refused ;"
 
 104 
 
 They might have fell'd the Poets with an apple, 
 When they walk'd through the gates into a chapel. 
 
 It was a mighty lovefeast and revival, 
 
 One told how under him a sinner smarted, 
 Another had convine'd a shopman rival ; 
 
 A third from ruin's very brink had started, 
 A fourth for many years had striven to drive all 
 
 Sinners to chapel ; and a fifth had parted 
 From a good friend, because he read a play, 
 A sixth had made his son love Sabbath day. 
 
 Angel, said Byron, to one near. This clamour 
 Is tiresome. Who's yon man who looks so pure, 
 
 And beats the pulpit desk with fist for hammer, 
 I think I've seen his countenance before, 
 
 He seems as if obsess'd with sacred glamour, 
 
 Humph ! the angel answer'd, " Wesley to be sure," 
 
 He was onearth the Methodistic leader, 
 
 And now in heaven their spiritual feeder. 
 
 And there stands happy Charles. Once on a time 
 
 He thonght t' have joined heaven poets— but the guard 
 Soon as he heard his weak religious rhyme, 
 
 The portals of the mansion double barr'd, 
 And told him that perhaps he still might climb 
 
 Into that heaven, and get a wreath's award ; 
 So he return'd and joiu'd his brother John, 
 Who held that bards were natus et nonfit alone. 
 Yonder among them too is little Watts, 
 
 Not little minded — striving for a hearing, 
 But higher there, an ancient friend, why that's 
 
 Southey, scream'd Byron, but they'll have no swearing, 
 Else— Silence, his guide imposed — Imbecile states 
 
 Some fall into, when old age they are nearing — 
 But many hold his was sublime theocracy, 
 Others 'twas fear or avarice, or hypocrisy. 
 And now began a fervour past belief, 
 
 Great Whitfield whecl'd around and cried — all thoso 
 Who love the Lord, be instant and not brief 
 
 In prayer — When all the congregation rose 
 Each striving in devotion to be chief ; 
 
 Some tumbled o'er the pews on others toes, 
 Some sang, some crack'd their voices, no one slept, 
 And many bent their heads and sigh'd, and groan'd, and wept, 
 Quoth Byron : Vulgar worship but sincere — 
 
 Southey I envy not. But let us go,
 
 105 
 
 If their eternal happiness is here, 
 
 Dear Cicerone mine is not I trow — 
 Then come alont,' the guide Baid. We go where 
 
 There is a place more suitable for you ; 
 For in my Father's house are mansions many, 
 To man declar'd, but not believed by any. 
 
 He led them to a place so glorious that they 
 Were dazzled. Banquets for gods and wines of ruby red, 
 
 Bards and musicians and th' Elysian lay, 
 And star crown'd beauty wondorous dances sped. 
 
 Song birds,— flowers of heavenly hues ; — and Joy was fed 
 In groves and palaces. The guide then said — 
 
 Stay, an ye list for mansions still more gay, [away. 
 
 If woithy you will hud. Adieu! my friends, my mission calls 
 
 WHY LOOK WE LACK TO FADED BLOOMS ? 
 
 Here is something quaint and rare; we should dearlj like to have a 
 book full "' remind us of those staunch sons of 
 
 , Suiiiu el U Berrick, and the never- 
 
 to be-forf ly they sound, in this 
 
 grasping, mon ; agel— Spj 
 
 Why look wc back to faded blooms, 
 
 And forma that may not stay ; 
 And mourn beside the moss-grown tombs 
 
 Of objects pass'd away:' 
 Wl gono years, 
 
 By foolish Born 
 For iu that vale the spirit hears 
 
 But wailinga fox the dead. 
 
 in the fatnri ; we 
 
 Shall find our pi n ind, 
 
 Dark is the mortal' 
 
 Who fondlj look behind : 
 Then on, thi ones live 
 
 Win r< life's bright rivera flow ; 
 
 i all, tiny grieve 
 That we Btaj long below. 
 
 With them, cold winter long haa paas'd, 
 
 Tin ;i -i rif< i. at = < « i i 
 I r hush'd the angry bl 
 
 That made thi m id bend, 
 
 Upon their brows, no bhudowa now
 
 106 
 
 Bespeak the troubled mind ; 
 Woe, want, and pain tboy left below — 
 With ns who stay behind. 
 
 " The winter's past, the clouds are gone," 
 
 I heard a lov'd one say : 
 " The turtle's voice cries, hasten on, 
 
 " Come, brother, come away ; 
 " Our vines give out a pleasant swell, 
 
 " We've trimm'd our olive bowers, 
 " Bright garments here will fit thee well, 
 
 " We'll crown thy head with flowers. 
 
 " Pine not for grandeur's earthly shoen, 
 
 " Its hopes or pleasures gay ; 
 " We, too, its best delights havo seen : 
 
 " Come, mourner, come away, 
 " Arise, arise, from earth arise ! 
 
 " Let fame unheeded call, 
 " And leave behind its poisoned skies ; 
 
 " For death has tainted all. 
 
 "We've fill'd a flagon high for thee ; 
 
 " For thee adorn'd a home; 
 " Where festive joy will ever bo : 
 
 " Come, lingering brother, come." 
 I come, I come, time's tartly pace, 
 
 With song's I will beguile ; 
 I soon shall end earth's weary raco : 
 
 Blest spirits, wait awhile. 
 
 THE MALE COQUETTE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 There was music from the orchestra, and perfume from the 
 
 vase, 
 And ringing laughs and wit's retorts, and costly silks and lace, 
 There were jewels bright of starry sheen, and eyes more bright 
 
 tban they, 
 And light hearts. Wero they light ! at least the faces all were 
 
 «ay, 
 Carnation tinted many cheeks doom'd soon to fade and fly. 
 For falsehood and bypocrisy is ever ever nigh ;
 
 10 
 
 The boyant step, the graceful mien, the quick and roguish 
 
 glance 
 Show'd amourous hope's fond luxury was mingled with the 
 
 dance. 
 But there sat one whose sunny bloom had made an angel vain, 
 Ere love so fondly nurs'd had chang'd the joy of youth to pain, 
 She sat alone, and smiled not, spoke not — look'd with vacant 
 
 eye, 
 As one in trance communing with the shades of things gone by, 
 Quick glances oft wore shot on herj then lightly turn'd away, 
 As from a blighted rnin'd thing fast hastening to decay ; 
 Ami one look'd oft, yet did not dream that wreck was made by 
 
 him, 
 Who oft in other days bad praised those eyes now growing dim. 
 ^A'ho once had villainously won a heart not cared to win, 
 And lit a flame that now consumed the vital part within, 
 His step was li-ht with one as blight, as e'er gave lover pride, 
 His own his oherish'd maid, and now his bless'd affianced bride. 
 The ball was o'er, the lights were gone, and in a chamber lono 
 A lovely form was faintiii'.', and her ailing all unknown; 
 And tearful eyes boo] dark funereal cortege move, 
 
 "With a victim of male coquetry, of base unhallow'd love. 
 
 FATHERLAND. 
 
 ■:o: 
 
 Tnis world I know is not my hon 
 
 rail, 
 Where pilgrims fear tin ills to 
 
 \\'h< re mirage cheats and fountains fail, 
 ' alien wanderers I ro 
 
 A charm 1 path, a deB( it strand, 
 
 'I'M - weary world i- nut my home, 
 My borne 4 u in the Fathi rland. 
 
 1 1 Chaldea - t' mplea proudly shine, 
 
 1 1, r bow ; 
 
 !!• n Mammon's i wealth repine, 
 
 iTuili a the jew< ll'd brow. 
 
 I lily Inline, 
 
 For wlnr. bi nil thai youthful hand, 
 
 i, v lb to l"i long Iiuim;.- Lccl. mi, j,
 
 108 
 
 That sported in a shortliv'd bloom — 
 Gone, gone to happy Fatherland. 
 
 This tenement I like not now, 
 
 'Tis old and falling to decay ; 
 The transient beauty once it wore, 
 
 Wore with the dark brown years away. 
 A stranger now, I have no home, 
 
 Though friendships cheer and smiles are bland, 
 I anxiously the hours consume, 
 
 In thinking of my Fatherland. 
 
 My blood grows cold and nature cold, 
 
 Attracts me less from day to day ; 
 The stars and sun seem waxing old, 
 
 As I grow weary, old, and grey. 
 Heartless a wintry waste I tread, 
 
 Whilst this old cabin's pillars stand, 
 Cheer' d only by the glimpses shed, 
 
 From glorious realms of Fatherland. 
 
 THE TEMPTATIONS OF ST. ANTHONY, THE 
 FIRST CATHOLIC MONK. 
 
 * Enimtero malum est videre fcemiiiam, pejus alloqui, pessimum 
 
 attingere. 
 
 Saint Anthony great in the annals of fame, 
 
 From Egypt his natal to Lebanon came, 
 
 The first of the Monachs, the anti uxorian, 
 
 The eremite pious, as states the historian. 
 
 Black, naked and filthy, and ugly and fat, 
 
 And holy and lazy he laid on his mat. 
 
 One morn as he sat in his stalactite cave, 
 Intent on his soul from the tempter to save, 
 A widow came tripping he knew not from whence, 
 But he felt most unable to spurn her from thence. 
 He felt as men feel who do nothing but pray, 
 But the demon of wedding will never heed Nay. 
 
 But he fought the fair temptress like anchorite brave, 
 While she wash'd up his vessels and clean'd np his cave, 
 She greased all his body with witchery's grace, 
 And lav'd with Bpring water Ids feet and his face, 
 Then she plump'd down beside him (0 henious sin) 
 And chuck'd him (Oh, impudence !) under the chin. 
 
   Yes it is bad to Bee a woman - worse to speak to one — and worst to 
 touch one.- Catholic Lisui.nijs,
 
 109 
 
 Oh, widow ! chastity ! how his mouth water'd, 
 The temptress was clever, but little it matter'd, 
 He growl'd like a dog that has got a sore head, 
 He bade her desist, but she would not be said. 
 For she begg'd'and she pray'd of the hermit to try 
 To find out some sand she had got in her eye. 
 But still he resisted and fell on his knees, 
 Kiss'd his cross and his relic and by them got easo. 
 
 But virtue is weak in the world and the flesh, 
 
 And the temptress attacked him more closely afresh ; 
 
 Confections she brought, and Aleppo's red wine, 
 
 That smack'd as if lit for St. Benedict's shrine. 
 
 But still he held out till her arts being spent, 
 
 She kiss'd him (0 shame) begg'd his blessing and went. 
 
 Deeply musing, — his ideas on penances ran, 
 Ho felt like an angel reduced to a man ; 
 And wept till he look'd upon Lebanon's snow, 
 That shone on the vine eoi i r'd valleys below. 
 And to cool sinful blood in bis veins boiling hot, 
 A heap for his bed in his grotto he got. 
 
 Asleep in the morn in the snows of his bed, 
 
 The brisk widow found him and instantly fled; 
 
 By the miracle v; aqniBh'd ' i Bhiver'd with cold, 
 
 And the fame thereof went through the churches of old. 
 
 'Tis said when he afterwards travelled through Nice, 
 
 With a look one grass widow he froze into ice, 
 
 And since liia time, widows have trembled and shrunk 
 
 Half frozen when kissing the frock of a monk. 
 
 THE GHOST OF REUBEN HOLDER 
 APOSTROPHIZED. 
 
 nnnti.'n Holder wn« n weak minded person, wlio some yean njio 
 ,,'m. rended bia own slllv do I iul Rhymes in the 
 
 by hundreds to l>- In 
 ■pin 
 
 Best thee In i I b< " Holder! 
 
 \\ liy still obsess oui 
 We "niy langh'd and oft i older 
 
 Than inoPt mi Q,— < -.villi tby cumb'rous loftd
 
 110 
 
 Of fusty wit Parnassus' mountain. Colder 
 
 To thee poor fellow than the world allow'd. 
 Is it dear ghost for past or present crimes, 
 That even yet thou pourest out thy rhymes. 
 
 Or is thy gloomy sprite migratory, 
 
 As Oymnosophists teach in lore Brahminical, 
 
 Filling with jargous rhyme of Purgatory, 
 The ohsess'd souls of other poets finical. 
 
 Like thee agog, for tanners and for glory, — 
 
 Peace Reuhen — for we would not now he cynical, — 
 
 Could not the Faculty invent a good hrain-wash, 
 
 For persons unaware that pen thy trash. 
 
 Yet Reuben thou wert harmless. Thou didst prattle 
 Of things that rang'd within thy comprehension, 
 
 Far was't from thee with intellect to battle, 
 For thine was small in thy titlark ascension. 
 
 But now thy spirit comes forth with a rattle, 
 From spirits in thy demouized retention. 
 
 Good Tennyson hold fast thy laureate crown, 
 
 Or Reuben's ghost may sieze it as is own. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 A niRlit scene in the Bny of New York, on tho 4th of July; the 
 Anniversary of the American Declaration of Independence. 
 
 Tnrc sky seem'd bronze — stars faint — upheav'd in east 
 
 The blood-red moon. We anchor'd in the Bay, 
 Intense the heat. The dun hills went to rest 
 
 By firefly lamps. A barqc beside us lay 
 Like a black phantom. Sullen moan'd the sea 
 
 Wild music charm'd its waters from the drum, 
 The trumpet and the gong. Continually 
 
 The city threw up rockets. Through the gloom 
 Boom'd heavy cannon. Thick'ning clouds o'erspread, 
 
 Roll'd their responsive thunders. Lightenings shook 
 Their quivering darts incessantly o'erhead, 
 
 Our vessel roll'd. The welkin seem'd to rock, — 
 White flashes whisk'd about — then dropp'd big rain — 
 
 And howling like a demon came the hurricane.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE POOR MAN'S CHILD. 
 
 ■:o: 
 
 Little traveller of earth ! 
 
 No one smiles upon thy birth ; 
 
 Rudely thy weak limbs they bind, 
 
 And rough the BWaddling clothes they find : 
 
 The wind screams through the cottago wild, 
 
 Cold welcom* to the poor man's child ! 
 
 Prattler on thy mother's knee ! 
 
 Nursed with milk of misery; 
 
 With plaintive Bongs she makes theo sleep, 
 
 And then her eyes have time to weep, 
 
 As musing o'er the woes up-pil'd, 
 
 Thou hast to bear, thou poor man's child ! 
 
 She sees thee dash'd to earth with wrong, 
 
 With rage and shame thy mates among ; 
 
 She sees thy youth in mills immured, 
 
 Thy manhood unto toils inured ; 
 
 Thine age dishonoured and reviled, 
 
 Thy death unmourn'd, thou poor man's child 
 
 Beside thy crazy cradle kneeling, 
 Rapt with all a mother's feeling, 
 Sin- would pray, y. t dares not pray, 
 That God would take her child away ; 
 And then recoils at thoughts so wild, 
 And feels she cannot spare her child ! 
 
 And where is he is sweat and toil, 
 
 With hanger lank in -hop or soil? 
 - .nl art thou at home, 
 Yet half he'd wii h thou 1 me — 
 
 Thy father ; are his i 
 Ah', no ! tin y'r donbh d by his child 1 
 
 I pi r, henoe I 
 
 i tui i- 1 i i ice ; 
 
 . angelic   although 
 
 It in re h.art 'in i to B< e thai 
 
 For grialy want and winto r wild 
 
 Have met thy ooming, i"">r man's child !
 
 112 
 SONG. 
 
 ■:o: 
 
 Is not yon the lark's sweet voice, in 
 Azure mansions, lost in Iiprlit ? 
 Is not yon the dove rejoicing 
 That she's 'scaped the winter night ? 
 
 Welcome sunheam, welcome flower, 
 Welcome ploughboy to the plain, 
 Welcome bird to budding bower, 
 Welcome spring-tide back again. 
 
 Come, my Betsy, let us rove on 
 Sunward banks where snowdrops thrive ; 
 Don thy kirtle, haste, my lov'd one, 
 Joy and spring again revive. 
 
 Earth from her full casket's flinging 
 Gems of every radiant hue, 
 Her full choir of music bringing 
 To excite our songs anew ! 
 
 SUNDAY MORN. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 Whek the six day's toils are o'er, 
 And worldly cares distract no more ; 
 When from forgetf illness we leap, 
 Kefresh'd with rest and balmy sleep. 
 Where is the man by labour worn, 
 Who welcomes not a Sunday morn ? 
 
 Gives not the sun a brighter beam ? 
 Hums not more musical the stream ? 
 Blow not the flowers in fairer light, 
 With lenses hung of colours bright ? 
 While balmy gusts o'er meadows borne, 
 Smell sweeter on a Sunday morn. 
 
 How blest is he whose temp'rate head, 
 Through life by honest motives led ; 
 With him are peace and plenty found,
 
 113 
 
 His wife and children flourish round, 
 And roaming over dale and down, 
 Their heavenly Father's mercies own. 
 
 The drunkard's home how different, 
 His goods iu pawn — his money spent, 
 His hopeless wife, and children weep 
 The tears of want — and he asleep 
 Till devils blue, rouse and affright 
 His senses in the Sunday light. 
 
 Pride the painted butterfly, 
 Another curse of poverty, 
 Inherits oft a kindred doom ; 
 Rich abroad and poor at home, 
 Outward show and debt's despair, 
 Fashion's cost and Sunday's care. 
 
 THE DETHRONEMENT OF KING CONSCIENCE . 
 
 Picking his teeth with dogg'd and surly look, 
 Sat Sathanas and scowl'd at those about 
 Who had not knelt and kiss'd his cloven foot; 
 Then rose and to his lords in Council spoke. 
 
 "Ye beastly lazy knaves," said he ; for ho 
 In Cromwell fashion rul'd his parliament, 
 " Hero ye will lurk as quiet and content 
 As if ye could not work iniquity. 
 
 •'Yonder king Conscience lords it o'er the world, 
 And makes it unto man a paradise ; 
 He gives all honour to tho good and wiso, 
 And in my face mine every gift is hurl'd ; 
 
 M Ho drives my daughter Sin to lonely places, 
 Afraid to show DOT face SO sweet and fair. 
 My occupation's gono — Mars keeps his lair — 
 And harmony and peace man's mind debases. 
 
 " Stir thfo, brass t&lon'd Mammon, r '< t thee up, 
 Or I thall toon be fare'd to shut op simp ; 
 
 Thy !_'ru\r-like maw is not \ t t full, 1 hope : 
 Arise ! and on the earth, ere sunset, sup. 
 H
 
 114 
 
 " And take with thee that precious yellow metal, 
 Which I have found a magnet to the souls 
 Of fools ; for we must rule the earth hy fools, 
 Or Angels 'mong the sons of men may settle." 
 
 Growling, griin Mammon rose, and took his hoard, 
 Put on man's shape — hut could not change his eye 
 Of fascinating greed — assay'd to fly, 
 While the Divan with hideous laughter roar'd. 
 
 Conscience was husy comforting the sad, 
 The aged, and infirm (when Mammon rose) 
 And hospitably to his worst of foes, 
 Thinking no evil, wide his doors display'd. 
 
 " What waste is this," says Mammon to the court 
 Of royal Conscience, " see how poor you'r grown — 
 Hold, hold your hands, and let not every clown 
 Be equal with you — you're a tyrant's sport. 
 
 Obey not Conscience men— see here this gold 
 '1 vvill bring you more than Conscience ever gave — 
 Your king makes each far worse than any slave : 
 He's but a slave and may be bought and sold." 
 
 Struck with th' audacious speech — the king beheld 
 Sin just behind th' intruder — and exclaim'd, 
 " Turn out the wretch, or we're for ever sham'd ;" j 
 But nearly all, by (Mammon led,) rebell'd. 
 
 All was confusion — some of spirits stout 
 By Conscience stood, whom they'd lov'd well and long ; 
 But those on Mammon's side were much too strong 
 For Conscience and his friends, whom they thrust out. 
 
 PSALM CXXXYII. VERSIFIED. 
 
 We sat and wept by Babel's streams, 
 Our harps on willows hung ; 
 
 They ask'd for mirth — who wasted us, 
 For songs in Zion sung. 
 
 How could we for our taunting foes — 
 A mournful captive band — 
 
 Sing Zion's songs in Babylon, 
 And on a foreign strand.
 
 115 
 
 Lov'd Salem ! may its cunning all 
 From my right hand depart, 
 
 When fades in regal loveliness 
 Thine image from my heart. 
 
 And let my tuneless tongue unto 
 
 My palate cleave, when I 
 Prefer not fair Jerusalem 
 
 Above my chiefest joy, 
 
 Remember cruel Edom's hate, 
 
 0, God ! in Zion's day, 
 Who wish'd her walls foundationless, 
 
 And we far, far away. 
 
 And thou shalt sink thou harlot queen- 
 
 Thou river dragon red ; 
 Aad happy he who visiteth 
 
 Our woes upon thy head. 
 
 Yea, blessed he who 'gainst the stones 
 Shall dash thy serpent brood ; 
 
 And Baal in his Babylon 
 Drown in Assyrian blood. 
 
 THE SPECIAL CONSTABLE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 What I'm croing to relate is most certainly true, 
 
 (8tand back or I'll frive you a lick), 
 Your hearts, stars, ami '_'n:1 its, you'd bless if you knew 
 
 All about my miraculous stick. 
 
 First and foremost, while taking it out in my baud 
 
 When Fenians were " mould " for B lint ; 
 They spied my approach, and began to disband 
 
 For they saw they had better be quiet. 
 
 The wonders it did in the country appeared 
 
 In tro papers — its mauling wild moba ; 
 Its knocking down drunkards and other absurd 
 
 /'-/.;■ p. Ople, l'Ut : the tlObt. 
 
 n ran and news Bpread through the country side quick 
 As scandal— and letters I got
 
 116 
 
 By dozens, requesting to borrow rny stick 
 To bang burglars, dogs, wives, and what not. 
 
 'Tis said it was made by old daddy John Bull, 
 
 When bis chattels were going to pot ; 
 And the guess of a nation is never so dull 
 
 When 'tis getting it Specially hot. 
 
 One day with old dad's constitutional prop, 
 
 I met with the Mayor, d'yo see ; 
 And as soon as my truncheon he twigg'd, a full stop, 
 
 He made, and a genteel congee. 
 
 Then the Vicar came up, and he gazed and he gazed, 
 
 Till I thought the man must be a flat, 
 For he stared at my stick like a howlet amazed, 
 
 Then politely he lifted his hat. 
 
 The ladies turn'd pale, and tho ladies turn'd red, 
 Till I thought the sweet doves would turn sick ; 
 
 And they curtseyed and whispered, but oft I heard said, 
 " Smart gent, " and " miraculous stick." 
 
 Some say that my stick is tho old crab-tree staff 
 Wherewith Balaam belaboured his ass ; 
 
 As to asses, 'tis true, but I smother a laugh, 
 At the jolternowl's fears as I pass. 
 
 'Tis whispered my stick never grew in a bower 
 
 On earth ; that some genius of evil 
 Has stole it, filled full of strange mesmeric power, 
 
 From the witch faggot pile of the d — 1. 
 
 Tho Bradford Town Council's wise Solomons met 
 Last week, and by placard made known 
 
 That in cases of peril my stick they must get 
 To defend tho police of tho town. 
 
 So, look'ee, my lads, if ye fight, aye, or wag 
 
 A finger, your noddles I'll rattle ; 
 For my stick is a chunk of the staff of the flag 
 
 That so long braved the breeze and the battle. 
 
 Move on, now my hearties, come nudge on ahead 
 
 (Ods bodikins, bludgeons, and groans) ; 
 H any chap dares to dispute what I've said 
 
 I will fill his skin full of sore bones,
 
 117 
 THE SWANS. 
 
 The feathered subjects of the following lines were the property of Mr. 
 Whitaker, of the Vale of Todniorden,son of Br. Whitaker,the celebrated 
 topographer and historian. 
 
 Among green mountains unrenown'd , 
 
 (Truth sanctifies my song) 
 Two stately snow-white swans were found 
 
 That lov'd each other long. 
 
 Still side hy side with tall necks how'd, 
 
 Still to each other true. 
 Like emperor and empress proud, 
 
 They skimmed the waters hlue. 
 
 The sun that sunk behind the hill 
 
 Still left their hearts allied, 
 And up with crimson morning still 
 
 Smiled on them side hy side. 
 
 A lady pass'd and saw such love 
 
 As man could ne'er maintain, 
 And sighed that human love should prove 
 
 In contrast light and vain. 
 
 Rude hands destroy'd the noble male, 
 
 And his mate no more will fly, 
 As sometimes was their wont, the vale, 
 
 And wing the mountain sky. 
 
 No power can make her now forsake 
 
 The green her partner trod : 
 She sails where he sail'd on the lake, 
 
 sits on the Baxne dear sod. 
 
 Low moonlight strains i and stream, 
 
 Charm Lovers as they stray ; 
 That 'tis the Bwan thej little dream, 
 
 That nngs her life away. 
 
 The Lad; and ri< w'd a 
 
 i n'a dial i 
 And Igh'd " No more boast, rain, 
 
 Thy truth and faithfulness." 
 
 A WIFE AM' FRIEND 
 
 I inn ly trortiij 
 Two amulets tor pain ;
 
 118 
 
 That give true courage on the earth, 
 Our trials to sustain. 
 
 One is a 'wife to take our fate, 
 
 And stereotyp'd to smile ; 
 The other is a friend and mate, 
 
 The teeth of care to file. 
 
 The gain of hoth is wisdom's end, 
 
 And trial soon will prove ; 
 That friendliness will find a friend, 
 
 A loving spirit love. 
 
 These won how light tlrrougk toil and strife, 
 
 Life's pendulum will go ; 
 From friendly cheer to hosom dear, 
 
 Returning to and fro. 
 
 Though wife may die our friend is nigh, 
 
 Of both we're not bereft ; 
 Though friend be gone we're not alone, 
 
 We have one comfort left. 
 
 THE BESOM HAWKERS. 
 
 Some time agone, in Bradford's busy fair, 
 
 A witty rogue cried besoms everywhere : 
 
 " Six for fourpence only ! Here's your sort ! 
 
 Ladies use them up at court. 
 
 View them o'er and trust your eyes, — 
 
 Got the Exhibition prize ! 
 
 Handle right and when you please — 
 
 Like old Van Scamp — you'll sweep the seas. 
 
 Besoms new, all tight and true, 
 
 Come buy, my pretty dears, come buy ! 
 
 Here's a bargain — sweep and try. 
 
 I mean to sweep on this occasion 
 
 All besom rogues out of the nation : 
 
 Church and House of Commons too, 
 
 I'll give a sweeping through and through. 
 
 Half-a-dozen for a groat, 
 
 Fit to brush your Sunday coat ! 
 
 Wary Ann, love, pick them out, —
 
 119 
 
 Selling off for next to nought ; 
 
 Mountain beauties, four for six, 
 
 Pinwire heather, whalebone sticks — 
 
 Take me, darlings, while you may, 
 
 Never trust another clay." 
 
 A fellow besom hawker standing by, 
 
 Driven from the market by his cry, 
 
 Call'd him aside, and thus began : 
 
 " Comrade, I cannot comprehend your plan ; 
 
 I prigs my steyls and ling, and every rap, 
 
 That's used by any besom making chap. 
 
 I'll stand a liandsome treat if you will tell mo 
 
 The reason why you still can undersell me," 
 
 " Come on," cheap Joe replied ; and trigg'd his tripes 
 
 With mntton chops and double X for swipes ; 
 
 Then looking sly, he wink'd his eye and said, 
 
 " Matey ! I prigs my besoms ready made !" 
 
 THE EMIGRANTS. 
 
 Adieu, thou dear land of our birth, 
 
 The exiles of England we mourn; 
 
 The half-famish'd swallow will leave thee in dearth, 
 
 And return with the Miniiiier to plenty and mirth, 
 
 But we go and we never return. 
 
 Thou hast look'd on our childhood with care, 
 
 And may blessings for aye o'er thee flow ; 
 
 But the Lopes thai we cherish'd all melted in air, 
 
 And the blackness eame down of the night of despair, 
 
 Dear Mother and from thee we go ; 
 
 All hail ye white waves of the main, 
 
 like a bird shall OUT hark o'er ye fly, 
 
 With her white (rings abroad on the dark azure plain ; 
 
 Tho toy of the storm, in his own vast domain 
 
 The plaything for winds of the sky. 
 
 Tho huge swelling billows may In aw, 
 
 But we [i ax not tin ir deep hollow roar ; 
 
 Onr minds wander back and their terrors deoieve, 
 
 To our friends kindred l"\> >, ami oh badly we griovo ; 
 For that hearth we )vvi.-it no 1.101c 
 
 The depths of the forest shall bo
 
 120 
 
 By Canadas rivers our home ; 
 
 Where the nightly wolf howls 'neath the dark hemlock tree, 
 
 And the fell panther prowls, and the nimble deer flee 
 
 Through the cedar swamps terrible gloom. 
 
 Though the serpent glares fierce on us there, 
 
 By the shanty our home shall arise ; 
 
 Where the red hunter rests, its frail walls we will rear, 
 
 And his Manitous haunt shall our axes lay bare 
 
 To the worm cheerful light oi' the skies. 
 
 Rich harvests our children shall have, 
 
 Where the wkippoorwill nightly calls now ; 
 
 And great cities rise of the free and the brave, 
 
 And Commerce, her banners in ev'ry port wave, 
 
 With the myrtle of peace on her brow. 
 
 A CHAUNT. 
 
 In a second hand coat and a hat for a groat, 
 
 Respectable is my turn out ; 
 
 I travel along ever crooning a song, 
 
 Of the way of the great I get out. 
 
 What now do I care for the gay or the fair, 
 
 If sad or if merry they be ; 
 
 For the Muse with a smile often comes to beguile, 
 
 With her treasures, the moments to me. 
 
 The valleys of bloom, and the gales of perfume, 
 The songs and the jewels of spring ; 
 With my youth have long gone, yet my spirit lives on, 
 And I know I shall cease not to sing. 
 
 I have seen the untruth of romances of youth, 
 
 While his furrows Time plough'd on my face ; 
 
 But I've strove for the right, I have fought the good fight, 
 
 To the poor I have been no disgrace. 
 
 The gods saw my fate and in pity take that, 
 They said and they gave mo the string ; 
 Fickle Foituuc may frown, and enjoyments be gone, 
 But of better days coming I'll sing. 
 
 There are meads we can roam round a ready* " long home," 
 From this body's clay cottage I ken : 
 
 * M Because man goeth to his long home." Eccloa. xii. 5.
 
 121 
 
 Where no " Notice " is given no tenant is driven, 
 From his dwelling by insolent men. 
 
 It is there we can stray even here while we stay, 
 On aquiline pinions we fly ; 
 
 And look down upon earth as a place of no worth, 
 A lazar house, bedlam, or stye. 
 
 The woes that began ere my years reach'd the man, 
 The dread future ever huug o'er ; 
 And the old horrid glare of want woe and despair, 
 Shall affright and distress me no more. 
 
 In a beautiful strand a delectable land, 
 
 Love reigns as a Parent and king ; 
 
 Where each sense is a feast — all cares are at rest, 
 
 Each heart throb impels them to sing. 
 
 My time I abide for mortality's pride 
 
 Evanescent and transcient I know ; 
 
 And in many a lay hearty homage I'll pay, 
 
 On the harp to my king as I go. 
 
 IMPUDENCE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Were't not that loss of oharacter I Late, 
 
 Thou wicked woman I would break thy pate. 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 Ere heavenly Y< DUB lov'd the Dardan boy, 
 Or Juno's Apt i s I'm -I invested Iroy; 
 
 I Ire \'' '• Bilver Simoian bowers, 
 
 Or Murs was In anl from llliuin's topmast towers. 
 
 • re Arachne falsi hood's ti i ne wore, 
 
 Ami BCOm'd I'allailian webs of truth al 
 Ere Mercury in si. < \> Bbnt 
 Ami Mini ted Dei 
 
 The world in youth v h< a « I < • 1 1 . 1 comp< lling Jove, 
 in a 1. right Hespei inn | roYfl ; 
 
 Her goldi d i i ly Y< mis w< 
 
 Ami shield and belmi t proud Mini rva borOi 
 
 Lund In ii ;• li t . r rang— Appolline music flow'd, — 
 And I ine'd in a crowd, — 
 
 Bebi I '1 lill'il Jove i hi d lo ! 
 
 \\ Lo bhould arrive but Hermes on tiptoe,
 
 122 
 
 And bowing low in mock obeisance stood ; 
 
 Grinning and smirking inucb unlike a god. 
 
 " How now, Quoth Jupiter ! what brings you here? 
 
 You half-bred jackanapes with roguish leer, " — 
 
 And grasp'd his thunder — Hermes turning pale, 
 
 Show'd more respect and then commenc'd his tale. 
 
 " Bravo fiddling here with harlots all a row, 
 
 Regardless of poor mortals down below, 
 
 Listen the uproar — Masses of mankind ; 
 
 The ignorant and brainless you will find 
 
 Are perishing —The sensible and wise 
 
 Live and get fat — It would not cause surprise 
 
 If things go on" — "Come slapjack that will do 
 
 Snapp'd Jupiter — I see thy meaning through, — 
 
 I can't be always minding things below ; 
 
 Can I fair Dian with tby silver bow ?" 
 
 He turn'd upon her an inquiring look ; — 
 
 She smiled on Mercury and ere she spoke, 
 
 Into her Hecate nature turned the maid ; 
 
 (While near Jove's throne ran Ganymede afraid,) 
 
 Then answer'd— Mighty Thunderer, if still" 
 
 You love me, let Caduceus have his will ; — 
 
 Jove scratch'd his lock's ambrosial — starsnuff — took, 
 
 Then to Caduceus again he spoke, 
 
 To spoil my pastime you may find no joke. — 
 
 Begone and quickly ere thy pate is broke — 
 
 dime next at proper seasons, ugly thief, 
 
 When I in judgment sit,— and then be brief — 
 
 Get out — and when you find men scant of sense, 
 
 Give for amends a stock of impudence. 
 
 Mercury fled and often look'd behind, 
 
 In fear for rolling thunder in the wind ; 
 
 Then probity and sense became the jest. 
 
 Of ladies fine — and impudence was blest, — 
 
 The gods were mock'd. The iron age began, 
 
 And old relations chang'd of man to man. 
 
 TITTER UP TACK'T.* 
 
 :o:- 
 
 Tom-mee, Sam-rnce, honics get Up, 
 T' craw's driving t' starlins ta t' skoil, 
 
 ♦Sooueet up take it.
 
 123 
 
 T' dogs foit's in his pocket sin t' battle with t' tap, 
 
 T' cats' comc'in her toppin ot' stoil. 
 Ye're just like two lmllots it' toithwark it' lair, 
 
 WhUe t' gobblecock's flytin his dame; 
 I'll ta bed an out war ya young urchans, d'ye hear, 
 
 T' larks shahwtin dahwn chhnla fer shame. 
 
 SINGS. 
 
 There was a young widow I cannot say where, 
 
 And she went a walking to take the fresh air ; 
 She met a young parson just coming that way, 
 
 " Good morning" how are you ? sweet blossom of May. 
 Come out for fresh air in the meadows I ween — 
 
 Your sweetness makes sweeter the breath of the bean ; 
 Neck and crop love has bound me in fetters, said he, 
 
 And what said the widow ? why nothing said she 1 
 
 Derry down, &C. 
 
 Tom-mce Sam-mee. Father's it' hagg 
 
 Threng turnin ower t' rigwalted muggs ; 
 If a comes wi' that saplin be split off a t' snag, 
 
 He'll welt botb yer shoothers an lugs. 
 There's t' hull emeng f bei piches tail up it' ah*, 
 
 They'll teyoh common sense ta sich tykes ; 
 I've set t' clockin hen, an I've fother'd grey maro, 
 
 Wal ye lig like two paddocks it' sykes. 
 
 SINGS. 
 
 My trade is a good one. I've tithe pigs to cat, 
 
 And wine from the parish my aronies to treat ; 
 With noliles ami gentles 1 dino and I ride, 
 
 Tantivy a hunting at Martinmass tide. 
 So wilt thou be mine pretty widow, aid he, 
 
 And what .- ; l i . 1 the v.i.lov, .' a bargain said sho ; 
 And 'twere only fairplay all the pan b would own, 
 
 That I wear the bri bile you wear tbo j^own. 
 
 Derry down, &C. 
 
 Tom-mee, Sam-mee, t srn's burning oil' t' thack, 
 
 Two piuats arc thn aping wit' pig ; 
 I I.. . n dahwn a milkin ta f eoppy an hack, 
 
 Haw long n 'h bahwn ta lig. 
 
 I: i.oil tin   ;awm ma oa more net a dunnock, 
 
 lit' oh* i. o' me throj i li I oraol 
 Bui [11 stir ye 1 laj li treacle Lunuock, 
 
 Dw va htur DM luds '.' Titter up tuck't !
 
 124 
 
 GOD IS LOVE, 1. John, 4. 16. 
 :o: 
 
 Where the heart's ease grew and the halcyon flew, 
 
 And the vines with the roses wove ; 
 On eternity's throne with the sun for his crown, 
 
 In his beauty and power sat Love. 
 
 He was king of the east, he was lung of the west, 
 He was Lord of the mountain and flood ; 
 
 And the pure and the fair to adore him came near, 
 From the castle and merry greenwood. 
 
 To His glimmering court kings and queens made resort 
 
 His majesty's grace to behold; 
 On His right hand was Truth on His left hand youth, 
 
 Clad in heaven wrought azure and gold. 
 
 His armies abroad on the hurricane rode, 
 
 He commanded His ministers mild ; 
 And the leopard became, at His countenance tame, 
 
 And the lion was led by the child. 
 
 At His opening spring, human winter took wing, 
 
 With his fierce legions riding afar ; 
 And the hero of fame and the conquerer came, 
 
 Treading down their blood-laurels of war. 
 
 The admiral brave left his fleet on the wave, 
 That made hideous the watches of night ; 
 
 And he sat in the grove, with the children of Love, 
 At the banquet of fruits of delight. 
 
 His pavilions heard the good news of His Word, 
 And the sound of His harps never ceas'd ; 
 
 And the turnings of years and the burnings of spheres, 
 Saw no end to His revelry blest. 
 
 THE OWL AND BIRDS OF NIGHT. 
 
 A Fable. 
 for every one that dooth evil, hateth tho light, John 3 20, 
 
 It was upon a gloomy night, 
 When ghosts were flitting fleet } 
 To Bolton's Abbey mined quiet)
 
 125 
 
 The nightbirds wing'd their gloomy flight, 
 In conference to meet. 
 
 On wall shrubs round sat many a fowl, 
 And on a broken slab ; 
 His mossgrown platform stood the owl, 
 And with great gravity, the whole, 
 Address'd with learned gab. 
 
 (Who-hoo) My friends you all (who-hoo) 
 Delight in chick like me ; 
 The good dame is our ancient foe, 
 And we have all a right you know, 
 To chicks as good as she. 
 
 I stole a leveret from the park, 
 
 A turkey from the green, 
 
 And a fat plump duckling in the dark ; 
 
 Had it been light, the certain mark 
 
 Of deadly gun I'd been. 
 
 I am for union — Foes unknown, 
 Sent eagle down to say, 
 Our wick. .1 deeds love <;loom alone, 
 And that we ought to face the sun 
 And catch our food by day ; 
 
 Sage nun like ov/ls love mystery all, 
 And some call darkness li^'ht ; 
 In ^loom we all see best— To call 
 Thick darkness light is natural, 
 And nature dictates right. 
 
 Nature gave all for sell to long, 
 
 And fear of lighl to feel ; 
 
 Nature Baj " — evade the wrong 
 
 Nam'd justice— •' and all things among— 
 
 Has nature's voice cried " stt al " 
 
 Nights' Bhrond alone I for my part, 
 
 Have ever lov'd to \i 
 
 I b< ard bub ed the proud apstart, 
 
 And wish'd my talons m hie heart, 
 
 Hmw iaj my frii ads who-hc 
 
 Bqoire <»wl thou haa< both Bones and nerve, 
 
 am'd all the night birds then; 
 '1 he rogue would wish as all to 
 by hui> or nuh will carve, 
 ick and In n.
 
 126 
 
 Thon hurried out the filthy rout, 
 f As loudly crow'd the cock) 
 The eagles power to set at nought ; 
 And tear his lofty eyrie out, 
 Though founded on a rock. 
 
 And as they wing'd with c' .nging cries, 
 Of threat and hate and seen ; 
 To their great terror and surprise, 
 Wide opened in the orient skies 
 The eyelids of the morn. 
 
 MOEAL. 
 
 Few seek for witnesses of all they do, 
 And fortune's levers are exposed to few ; 
 Evil, desires concealment, clouds, and night, 
 But good rejoices in the morning light. 
 
 SONG. FANNY AND ANNIE. 
 
 :o: 
 
 I lov'd both my Fanny and Annie, 
 I am certain I lov'd them too well ; 
 
 But whether sweet Annie or Fanny, 
 To chose I was bothcr'd to tell. 
 
 If I were to marry with Annie, 
 
 I fear'd that poor Fanny would die ; 
 
 I could not he cruel to Fanny, 
 The fact was I never could try. 
 
 I dallied long puzzled as cither, 
 
 To marry I felt I was loth ; 
 For I could he cruel to neither, 
 
 And could not be married to both. 
 
 Like the ass and the hayricks in fable, 
 Between them in choosing he died ; 
 
 So I in a fix was unable, 
 
 To make up my mind if I tried. 
 
 And Fan grew as saucy as never, 
 And suddenly gave me the sack ; 
 
 And Nan with a farewell for ever, 
 Look'd haughty and sho.v'd me her back,
 
 127 
 
 And Fanny got splic'd to a sailor, 
 And sail'd with him over the sea, 
 
 And Annie got stitch'd to a tailor ; 
 Was ever a lover like me ? hum ! 
 
 Was ever a love* like me ? 
 
 SENTIMENTAL. 
 
 ■:o: 
 
 It is sweet when lord Titan from Thetis' hcd ronses, 
 And flings off his dusty <>'d blanket the fog ; 
 
 To stray through the wild laughing paasies and roses — 
 Aud suddenly squelch to the kuees in a hog, 
 
 Cheering the bird and the halm of the morning, 
 
 Celandines aureate by cascade and pool ; 
 The milkmaid tu meet down the green lane returning, 
 
 And hear her sweet greeting — "Gan on ya dazed fool I" 
 
 It is rich when reclined on the moss by the fountain, 
 Its streams strewing gems on their crystalline way, 
 
 Cuckoos through rainbows awaking the mountain, — 
 To be seized and for trespass have smartly to pay ! 
 
 Rapture! heaven's galaxvs, myriad stars wiuking, 
 
 Meteors in silence ablaze to behold, 
 To pit with Lucina, the pearly dew ilrinking — 
 
 And catch rheum, mucus, cough, hoarseness, and cold ! 
 
 To sup with the gods when Apollo, the warder 
 Of Helicon's nectar-vaults, giy< - yon B treat 
 
 Ih glorious — with rent in hit. or [n yonr larder 
 A ghost — for your family nothing to cat ! 
 
 Bear witness ye wood-nymphs, ye dryadfl in scarlet, 
 
 To joys all <b nied to tin- prosaic smil — 
 When your wifi calls yon lazy Limbi d, addle- brain'd varht, 
 
 And combs your alf-lockfl with a three-legg'd stool ! 
 
 solace for sorrow ami happy abstraction, 
 
 Wl.. their caves Hyperborean doze ! — 
 
 When yon grope in yonr pock< ts and Bud not a fraction, 
 And the L»ule in YOUI PUN in his dancing t-hoe» !
 
 129 
 
 Charming to pour out your joy or your sorrow, 
 
 Sympathy's ears hy your lyrics to win, 
 And to send to the Times and perceive on the morrow- 
 
 That the rascally Editor won't put it in ! 
 
 THE SPECTEE. 
 
 
 :o: 
 
 The following poem wai suggested by the lelations of spectral appear- 
 ances to two seperate ladies, both of mature age, and both distinguished 
 for their piety and love of truth. 
 
 The clouds were dense on Ebor's skies, 
 
 And midnight thoughts took spectral guise 
 
 To lone affliction waking, 
 
 As hopeless in her vain employ ; 
 
 Lamenting for her buried boy, 
 
 A mother's heart was breaking. 
 
 She starts a well known call to hear 
 As soft as evening Zephyrs bear 
 A tongueless voice from heaven, 
 Mother it said ! awake ! behold 
 Thy son from Eden's hills of gold— 
 Thy spirit's veil is riven. 
 
 A form appear'd ! of heavenly mien, 
 Its raiment of a rosy shreen : 
 Its ruby lips still speaking, 
 " Forbear thy grief we do not die ; 
 ■\Ve do not sleep and coldly lie 
 Entomb'd and unawaking." 
 
 "My homo is bright I live and love 
 
 In Paradise — its spicy grove 
 
 In Spring's eternal blossom," 
 
 Embolden'd with excess of [joy, 
 
 One kiss she moan'd— one clnsp my boy ; 
 
 Would heal thy mother's bosom. 
 
 The voice angelic spoke again, 
 
 " Thy lips would seek to kiss in vain, 
 
 " A lip belcv'd so dearly 
 
 " But oft I'll leave my liver's streams,
 
 129 
 
 And clasp thee in thy morning dreams, 
 And kiss and ne'er be weary." 
 
 A sound as of a heavenly train, 
 Went with the light in sweet refrain, 
 To happy homes returning ; 
 Some tears of joy the mother wept, 
 Laid down her head in peace, and slept, 
 And comfort crown'd the morning. 
 
 A CRIMEAN SONG. 
 :o: 
 
 Amokg the groves the linnet loves, 
 
 About tbe time of spring ; 
 One even clear I chane'd to hear, 
 
 A gentle lady sing. 
 
 I know a knight* of honour bright, 
 
 Gone o'er the distant sea; 
 la arm*, and chase, hi \1 not disgrace, 
 
 The olden chivalry. 
 
 From Bybil plan a talismau, 
 
 My fingers for him wove ; 
 And from my hands in other lands, 
 
 He wears it for my love. 
 
 The gods of war may roar afar, 
 In Crimean sulphur gloom ; 
 
 To anoi . may aoldii ra cries, 
 
 Bewail their ialand home. 
 
 In broken Ble< i> may > ioth< ra weep, 
 Ami maidi ne mourn in vain 
 
 • who deep the oarnage heap, 
 In dy< a of orim on tain. 
 
 Tint oTerruli I 
 
 1 banda <>f a ir • 
 
 And ttan benign trill all oombine, 
 To guard my oavalii r. 
 
 ummer's pnrple sky, 
 I '■■ U bear my swain 
 
 In Fountain ain.
 
 130 
 
 A MEMENTO \1LE OF THE LATE EARL OF 
 
 DERBY. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 Imbued with the lore of the sage and the good, 
 
 Wisdom's pathway he never forsook ; 
 And deeply in valley and mountain and flood, 
 
 Nature's lessons he read in her book, 
 The beast and the bird and the blossom he lov'd ; 
 
 ■\\ hen to strike the harp's chords he began, 
 From friendship and patronage genius prov'd 
 
 That his head was the head of a man. 
 
 Affliction and poverty, hardship and pain, 
 
 Had his earnest attention and care, 
 The spirit of freedom ne'er sought him in vain 
 
 To protect it from " giant Despair." 
 He lit up with a smile ; — made the rainbow appear, 
 
 On the face of the care-worn and wan ; 
 And many will cherish his memory dear, 
 
 For his heart was the heart of a man.* 
 
 Like the law-giver Moses his bearing was meek, 
 
 The peerage was marshall'd by bim ; 
 He had led the Ephori the pride of the Greek, 
 
 Roman Senate, or Jew's Sanhedrim, 
 From nobles descended true noble was he ; 
 
 He sought Divine order in things ; 
 By nature created a noble was he, 
 
 And a peer by the Monarch of kings. 
 
 H1C JACET. 
 
 A woman laid decently by, 
 
 Some few have been worse and some better ; 
 She liv'd and sbe died so as long to defy, 
 
 Man, woman, or child, to forget her. 
 
 Her love for her sex all her actions can tell, 
 
 By tokens too many to mention ; 
 Her blacking-biush daily she handled so well, 
 
 That no one escaped her attention. 
 
 1 Luuca^Lire cotton weavers remember biin.
 
 131 
 
 She wa3 honest as sunshine when trusted with aught, 
 
 Too distant, too hot, or too heavy ; 
 And if the bare truth she so often forgot, 
 
 She lov'd it she swore on her davy. 
 
 She was call'd a foul witch by the tall and the small, 
 
 A witch was she ? Was she a fiddle ? 
 And her tongue was not like a mill-hopper at all, 
 
 Mill-hoppers dont hang by the middle. 
 
 She was cat-like they said — They say aught but their 
 prayers, 
 
 They say she lov'd slanderous story ; 
 But now what tiny said, very little she cares, 
 
 For an arvil they said was her glory. 
 
 A husband she had, but the sensitive oaf, 
 
 Felt her words like the Bpikea of a rowel ; 
 And he ne'er saw her want, for he bought her a loaf, 
 
 Then hung himself up in a towel. 
 
 An infant she bore, and it crew and it grew, 
 
 In beauty like every other ; 
 But it spread its soul wings and to heaven it flew, 
 
 When it first took the stock of its mother. 
 
 Ere she tapp'd at death's door all her neighbour's had oft, 
 
 Appeal'd to the t Maker together ; 
 To take her in mercy aloti or aloft, 
 
 For they wen- not particular whether. 
 
 A VISION. 
 
 :o: 
 
 Poon, wretched, half-starvi d in a garret I pined, 
 
 By i ith a handful of Ore ; 
 
 There was night on the world, bnl the ^loorn of my mind 
 
 Wa- deep'ning more awful and dire, 
 whither to go— in what oorner to hide ; 
 
 From the- world and the pomp of it- in-ob nt pride, 
 
 From the frars closing round me on every Bide, 
 
 Not pe though the world i- BO wide; 
 
   earth rej< ots me in wildneas, 1 orii d, 
 i 1 irept all alone in my \ 
 
 And 'i I (ell, 
 
 From sheer wuut uud fatigue into rest j
 
 132 
 
 Ami all I then saw I'm unable to tell, 
 
 For I dreamt I bad mix'd with the blest. 
 There was tuning of harps by high seraphic powers, 
 
 And fairer than Enna in loveliest hours ; 
 Were vistas of Edcns and gardens of flowers, 
 
 Living fountains, and regal pavilions and towers ; 
 With rainbows around and above. 
 
 There were cities on mountains that shone as of gold, 
 
 With foundation of jewels and light ; 
 And I saw their high portals like lightning unfold, 
 
 Whence issued the cherubim bright. 
 And a sont; as of myriads I heard as one choir, 
 
 Attuned to the organ the viol and lyre ; 
 From the east to the west like the rushing of fire, 
 
 From the south to tlic'north, where I heard it expire, 
 And the name of its burden was love." 
 
 I entered a mansion, whose adamine doors, 
 
 Swung in music on hinges of gold ; 
 Fiery columns arose from its opaline floors, 
 
 And loves purple flames o'er it roll'd. 
 There were thrones (silver curtained from heavenly looms) 
 
 Of soft Yielding roses, in rich living blooms ; 
 And Hygeian centers shed healing perfumes, 
 
 And angels with smiles sang—" At length here he comes, 
 To tho land of delight and content " 
 
 Rich banquets of sweets in profusion were spread 
 With wine-cups that ever o'erflow ; 
 
 I tasted, and oh how delicious that bread 
 And that wine — there is none such below 
 
 I tasted — new light seem'd to burst from tho skies ; 
 And the leaves of the olive, were chang'd into eyes, 
 
 Fruits of life bent to kiss me with deep blushing dyes ; 
 And the mountains began in the sheen to arise, 
 
 For the ivisdoin of Life was the light. 
 
 Thrice happy are they who are dead in the Lord, 
 
 For I seemed to the angels most dear ; 
 They tenderly press'd to partake of their board, 
 
 Officious my sorrows to cheer. 
 Their care is alone the sad sufferer to sooth, 
 
 As in beauty immortal they bloom into youth ; 
 Their words sounded soft as the winds of the south. 
 
 Their features beamed innocence kindness and truth, 
 And their raiment will never grow old.
 
 133 
 
 They directed mine eyes to the eastward on high, 
 And I fell down afraid and adored ; 
 
 For there zoned with glories of love in the sky, 
 I encountered tli • glance of the Lord. 
 
 Want and grief in the world have long caused me to bend, 
 But blessed is he who endures to the end ; 
 
 For I saw my Supporter, Redeemer, and Friend, 
 In that glance of the Vision Divine. 
 
 ODE TO THE DEMON OF INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 Intemperance is bad because it is not Temperance, and not 
 because it i9 not T< toalism — therefore it has been called in, 
 or untemperance, and not in or unabstinen 
 
 These an- the gen< rations of Temperance and Intemperance. 
 
 God is tlie father of goodni Goodness is the father of 
 
 loin ; Wisdom is the father of reason ; Reason is the father 
 
 of Tempt rana : Ti mp ranee is the father of long life and his 
 
 brethren, Bnch a- riches honour, &o. 
 
 The Devil is the father of evil ; Evil is the father of lies ; 
 a Lie is the father of i (treason; Unreason is the father of In- 
 temperance; Entemperanoe is the father of total Abstinence — 
 i lutein]- ad total Abstinence have no kinship with 
 
 could never have begotten total 
 
 in. nee. 
 
 Turkey the best fitted nation in the world for the cultivation 
 
 of the vine, i ind poverty since the 
 
 of the Hegira, by the insane prohibition of the use of wine 
 
 by M 'lionet, lint for thai hi c trade and commerce would have 
 than tha mce, and her civilization would 
 
 l r ,i\, i.i | Ei t maritime and inland cities would 
 
 not have fallen to ruin. Beropiati - would have been negli cted 
 tally unknown, excepl to her Medicim re, as in the Weal ; 
 
 and her population would have gradually I" come infidels to her 
 Allah, hi r Eblifl, and her Mahound. 
 I i,.l Italy, would b -iinihir 
 
 t,, ,. • nilar political and L |>rO- 
 
 hibition. 
 
 ••.N,,.,v I unto yen, refrain from tie i total 
 
 Abst ind let them alone; for U their ooonae] or tbtir
 
 134 
 
 work be of men it will come to nought : but if it be of God 
 (i.e. founded upon truth for God is truth) ye cannot overthrow 
 it : lest haply ye be found to fight against God (i.e. Almighty 
 Truth)— Acts v., 38, 39. 
 
 Feom what hell didst thou rise thus to vanquish the wise, 
 Thus to mildew the young and the fair ; 
 With hot irons to sear bosoms loving and dear, 
 And hoar age to o'erwhelm with despair. 
 
 From what nook of the pit, where the claw'd furies flit, 
 Didst thou bring thine intemperate bowl 
 Thou grim demon god, death and hell in thy trod, 
 Follow fast with their ministers foul. 
 
 Not the carnage deep red where the grave's maw is fed, 
 When the murder rife battle fields roar ; 
 When the skies blush for shame at the conqueror's name, 
 As he stalks through the black clotted gore. 
 
 No, not Mars nor the sea, when the winds are set free, 
 And when dark visaged hurricane's frown ; 
 When Neptune's green head is rear'd up from his bed, 
 And his trident strikes armadas down. 
 
 Not earthquakes that rend when the mountain's heads bend, 
 And affrighted streams fly to their source ; 
 When th' abyss's jaws grin and snatch proud cities in, 
 Nature seeming to swerve from her course. 
 
 Not contagions that fly through the poisoned sky, 
 When pestilence rages at worst ; 
 When putrid and blue corpses blast the sun's view, 
 And the bonds of affection are burst. 
 
 Not the pit, though it sjuie its black vomit and blue, 
 May we like thee Intemperance dread ; 
 For thy bright reaming bowl poisons body and soul, 
 It ferments in the vaults of the dead. 
 
 Bloated fiend, Scotland mourns, go and look o'er her urns, 
 With thy glassy and maniac glare ; 
 Old England weeps now for her brightest sons low, 
 Where are they ? bloated devil say " where ?" 
 
 Where are millions, aye, where, who have tasted thy cheer, 
 
 By the bale-fires of Beelzebub brew'd ; 
 
 Thy red brazen brow shall protect tliee not now, 
 
 Thou hast murder'd the great and the good.
 
 135 
 
 Go and Icok at the cot of the maudlin sot, 
 Where the matron's tears freeze in her ores ; 
 So cold, Bqnalid and bare that a residence there 
 E'en a Hottentot's heart would despise. 
 
 The road to the gallows begins at thy palace, 
 
 The rope thou art Bpinning within — 
 
 There the prostitutes smile and mad passions beguile, 
 
 Gulphing fools to the pitfalls of sin. 
 
 Trace- in dungeon's green slhne thy confessions of crime, 
 While thy flesh Bawing fetters cry clank ; 
 
 Where thy blasphemies pass to thy skies of hot brass, 
 And thy day star of hope is a blank. 
 
 Listen demon of doom to the thunders that boom, 
 Through the dark windy vault of the skies ; 
 With the driving hailcloud for the shriek long and loud, 
 Of distress on its pinions 
 
 Let the streets tell the tale in the keen wintry gale, 
 Of the houseless and heart-broken wretch; 
 Let the felon proclaim thy detestable name, 
 As he flings his last rag to Jack Ketch. 
 
 with thousands thon'sl Bent heavy chain'd to lament 
 Their crimes and their homes far away ; 
 
 now thy crimes and the antipode climes, 
 Of far Norfolk and Botany Hay. 
 
 'To]., eh the beast at his cannibal f< 
 Winn the roast human members he shared; 
 Not Belial the li ' 1 with sky tire, 
 
 Would 1"- with Intemperance compari 
 
 Not the dread Juggi rnaut ' Lis annual ride, out, 
 When t! as of the Hindoos were irash'd ; 
 
 With th^ gong ami tambour and the multitude's roar, 
 A- tie- - k M 11 -s of I crush'd. 
 
 Not the witch fiend that mov'd our dark fathers, and lov'd 
 
 Tin' faggot and roast living flesh ; 
 
 When match'd with thy rites where thy fit ry snake bit 
 
 Did they come from perdition afresh. 
 
 Off to doom to thy place with thy pock pimpled fat 
 llii' black : 
 
 ■it tin- blue bnrni 
 : look w. ll th I back. 
 
   
 And witii tcorpion - thoo'rt air
 
 136 
 
 Howling down to the deep, from thy heavy beast sleep, 
 Arous'd by the curses of heaven, 
 
 Nations ban thee dread power that the opening flower 
 And the promise of genius dost blight ; 
 Tbat for patriot and bard has the madhouse prepared, 
 Shorn of energy, beauty, and might. 
 
 Stinking barrel-dreg, skunk, th' inside of thy trunk 
 Is a stagnant green reptile fill'd swamp ; 
 Gambling parasite, pimp, dirty hog, devils imp, 
 Ragamuffin, mean shovelling scamp. 
 
 Thine innocence gone and thy shame left alone, 
 Earth and heaven eternally lost ; 
 God and man made thy foes go and seek thy repose, 
 "With the wild ghastly siticide host. 
 
 Apollyon ! away with thy dash and thy crash, 
 Brute's catches, jibes, swagger and lies ; 
 Thy table's loud clash and thy stink pots to smash, 
 Bloody sconces and black bung'd-up eyes. 
 
 When thou birls't the brown browl, idiotic eyes roll, 
 Shedding round Pandemonium's light ; 
 The wine bottles reel and away angels steal, 
 Bidding reason and manhood * good night. 
 
 * Intemperate drinking, eating, language, clothing, in fact, excess in 
 the use of any goo«l gift, is adverse to health, reason, and manhood- 
 Misuse and non-use are twin evils. 
 
 THE WIDOWER. 
 
 ■:o:- 
 
 Once asking a young widower why he (id not re-marry, he replied, 
 "My wife is not dead"— being a christian \ou ought to know. 
 
 Love's witchery round beauty plays, 
 
 His shafts wing in a glance; 
 
 His smiles by spirit blinding ways, 
 
 Conceal his slow advanci — 
 
 And love by winsome ways may try 
 
 His magic — but I know 
 
 No minion of the moon am I, 
 
 I'll go no more to woo,
 
 187 
 
 One now among the Seraphim, 
 
 Came like the faithful dove ; 
 
 One Been iu many an early dream, 
 
 Compell'd rny soul to love. 
 
 She came like morning to the sky, 
 
 As lovely and as true ; 
 
 No minion of the moon am I, 
 
 1*11 go no more to woo. 
 
 Within my arms, her sun went down, 
 
 The day I still deplore ; 
 
 For true love only one can own, 
 
 One only ko-i-noor. 
 
 Let others bury love — and soon 
 
 A roving lightly go ; 
 
 I am no minion of the moon, 
 
 I'll go no more to woo. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 •:o: 
 
 I live in the Bunland of beauty and bloom, 
 
 Not dead a- ye deem in the Abbey's cold t<>mb; 
 
 Monro ye lor yourselves* and your children mourn, 
 
 My labours are finished, 1 never return; 
 
 I sleep not in death, but 1 live where the free, 
 
 And the ft 1 1< rl. bs flourish, then mourn not for me. 
 
 Lament for your lot, Bad and weary that stay, 
 Pain's heritors— lodgers in dwellings of clay ; 
 Spectre bannted yonr niu'bts And yon sad and forlorn, 
 And the foot-prints of death terrify in the morn ; 
 • l • ut ne'er conei Lv'd, or eye saw now I see 
 The veil n-iit asnn ler, then pity not d 
 
 I have fonnd my Bonl's love 'mong the children of light, 
 
 Beleas'd like a child from Die dragons of ni hi ; 
 
 No e ( Dotapl tomb — 
 
   for a fri' nd who has only gone b me, 
 itafalqtu.- pomp, or cortege let there be— 
 
 \\ i . • bury not inc. 
 
 Know ye « I • Bnnny rivi rs ai I 
 
 Saw ye where U>ve lights the <-turs of the ekieB ;
 
 188 
 
 Where the wicked molest not —the tempests are o'er, 
 , And the winter of earth-life afflicts ns no more, 
 It is here — it is here, and since time first began — 
 Earth was not design'd for the homestead of man. 
 
 I have met kith and kin — greeted friends ever dear, 
 
 Here yonth is eternal — love's climate is here — 
 
 I commune with the sages and seers of yore, 
 
 With hards, monarchs, heroes, call'd hither before ; 
 
 Sing jubilate ! Is it Thackeray I see ? 
 
 " Why my friend thou art bringing all Eden with thee." 
 
 A SCRIPTURE HYMN. 
 
 :o: 
 
 The fillowng hvran i 3 a spf>cimen"of the thousand hymns which may 
 he extracts altogether from the Word of God. 
 
 Bitter is my earthlv lot.- Job, iii. 20. 
 I drink the wormwood bowl. — Lam. iii. 14. 
 Why art thou thus cast down so low. — Ps. xlii. 5. 
 Why art thou sad my soul.— Ezek. xiii. 22. 
 
 Although my friends avert themselves 1 pg ] xxxviii> 18< 
 
 And from me all depart. J 
 
 Thou Father in my darkest hourl p g ly 22> 
 
 Wilt still sustain my heart. | 
 
 Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell.— Ps. xvi. 10. 
 
 Or see me suffer wrong. — Acts, vii. 24. 
 
 Thou ever-more wilt be my joy x pg cxxxvii g 
 
 My constant theme of song. ) 
 
 The finger of derision's sneer , pg> cxviy gl 
 May point and Wish my tall. ) 
 But thou wilt shut me safe within ) T , •• O o 
 Thy Zion's hallow'd wall. J JOe1 ' U ' **' 
 
 Go mark ye well her bulwarks, •> 
 
 And number all her towers ; ^^ u 
 
 Walk round about our Zion, 
 
 And know this God is ours. 
 
 * 
 
 His hosts in arms arc terrible, ) o tr „ s vi 
 His chariots rushing firo i °' 
 
 7
 
 189 
 
 His horsemen with their virgin hands, i j^ ev s - v o 
 Attune the golden wire. J 
 
 My strength is all my Father's strength — Ps. xviii. 1. 
 His voice my voice shall be, — Ps. ciii. 20. 
 My pleasure His, my songs his praise ip j xx j g 
 Shall sound continually. J 
 
 Awake ye dwellers in the dust, 
 God's body (bad arise ; 
 Sing ! for thy dew is falling, 
 Tby manna from the skies. 
 
 Isa. xxvi. 19. 
 
 HELL. 
 
 -:o:- 
 
 I dreamt and the reason I only can tell, 
 But I had a mosl terrible vision of lull, 
 I went down a stair in pitch darkness and saw, 
 Yes I saw (which I know is no natural la" 
 A region bo '.a-' that my pulses wen' stay'd, 
 
 lint a •• Whit.' -tunc " I had, and I was not afraid. 
 An I this I divulge for the use of mankind, 
 
 t tin- region I -aw was the lull of the mind, 
 l : and Dragons, and Vampyres and Ghouls, 
 
 l> i [lights and warnings, and Gabbleratch fowls, 
 
 Afrits of Eblifl and l!il ;bear and Wraith, 
 
 Bnlbe) irs Go tood right in my path, 
 
 There were Kit with his candli stick, Hellwain and Snook, 
 
 i Fairies, and Purii - that knock, 
 And Brownies and Bogli - an I Kelpies and (rh 
 
 ' ad Lemures in hi 
 
 The Spoora and the I t, White Rabbit, Nightmare, 
 
 The old man in the oak, and the Satyr were thi 
 
 Mumbo-Jumbo, and Fetish, and Manitto stood, 
 
 With Lol - •' . ami .In .'einaut 0OT( r'd with bio 
 
 There were Donbli . a' d Deathwatches, Devils in blue, 
 
 Arid of 1 and Ch I < limine-, imt a t 
 
 i . Amul.   . r ad Witches I found, 
 
   Pythoi ird, ami AugUT around, 
 
 - 
 I by blind Luck and late, 
 
 black,
 
 140 
 
 And a Spaewife alone with a cat on her hack. 
 
 There were Charmers and Empyrics, dark Necromancers, 
 
 Spells, Omens, and Periapts, evil Enchanters, 
 
 Ami Mystery sat in his robe like the night, 
 
 On his tripod essaying to juggle the sight, 
 
 With his Phantom of horror and Spectral thing, 
 
 Over all the mirk region the ruler and king. 
 
 And I stood till Aurora appear'd in the East, 
 
 And slowly progress'd in her bright golden vest, 
 
 And the Icons of horror. and forms strange and wierd 
 
 In the mind's Sun uprising, like shades disappear'd, 
 
 Where hell reign'd was heaven, I woke and was fain 
 
 For that Sun in its rising will ever remain. 
 
 Mine eyes Christ has opened, whereas I was blind, 
 
 And I see the sad state of the night of the mind, 
 
 And the armies of horrors that harrow mankind. 
 
 DOOM OF THE YEAR 1870. 
 
 The songs of the glorious sons of morn, 
 Awoke at the year's advance ; 
 As he enter'd the temple of Capricorn, 
 On the chariot of Death and Winter borne, 
 In the change of the astral dance. 
 
 Mighty Sol sate in state on his throne, 
 With a crown of flame on his brow ; 
 And his presence with terrible majesty shone, 
 And the lightening flash of his eye was thrown, 
 On his systems expanse below. 
 
 Mercury smiled near the throne with spite. 
 At Mars in his panoply red; 
 Till Venus came round with her crescent light, 
 And Jove with his satellites show'd his might, 
 To Saturn crown'd with lead. 
 
 Ye hours lead in the old year, 
 
 And the best of Sol was obey'd, 
 
 And the year Beem'd baggar'd and pale with fear, 
 
 In bis visionless eye was a frozen tear, 
 
 And a Bnowwreath wrapp'd his head.
 
 141 
 
 Over Sol's face gather VI a frown, 
 
 As the storm broods to destroy, 
 
 " Speak dotard he thunder'd, wit h truthfulness own, 
 
 What down in tby Terra thy mission has done, 
 
 For thou wert but in my employ. 
 
 Hast thou made her sons more wise, 
 
 Are the fetter'd by tyrants free, 
 
 Is truth substituted for error and lies, 
 
 Hast thou opened Monarchs and minister's eyes, 
 
 Do nations more clearly see." 
 
 A shudder convulsed the form, 
 
 And the lips turnM blue of the year, 
 
 And he glared as we glare at an imminent storm, 
 
 And mntter'd " Why Bhinest thou still on that womi 
 
 Called Man — who deserves no care." 
 
 Ho ! Chaos and Night come forth, 
 
 (They came at Sol's dread command) 
 
 Give this wretch in your bottomless dungeon a birth 
 
 Drive him down with the lovers of darkness on earth, 
 
 With your hurricanes four in hand. 
 
 Bound, Sol then the plaints began, 
 
 Again the Lav< irth, 
 
 And threading strathspeys to Apollo, they ran, 
 
 And u year was 1 1< cted more friendly toman, 
 
 And commissiou'd to govern earth. 
 
 THE WEAVER. 
 
 :o: 
 
 and ill i in. Dipping and thru] 
   am and back, < i ' k, 
 
 Cop] ii: ht, bobl ins DOl right, 
 
 I Ii traps i : ds nil to smash, 
 
 Dave! and trap, 
 Bad vc ft ai d i '1 aharpi 
 
   : list* n the BODg — 
 Nickitj I 
 
 Jo] nnj . and -l< ni I i.ny, 
 And Johnny « 111 m \   In r ; 
 
 ity knack, ni< kitj knack, 
 ' thej mi 
 
 d t'> Ujllll\ II V,t ;
 
 142 
 
 Back rods ami reeds, temple and thread, 
 
 Raddle and coil, feather and oil, 
 
 Pulley and wheel, hank on the reel, 
 
 Slayboard and shed, shuttlehox thread, 
 
 Nippers and knot, scratching a spot, 
 
 Shuttles go glib, roll on the web, 
 
 Driving along : on with the song — 
 
 Nickity knack, nickity knack, 
 
 Jenny's got Johnny, and Jenny is bonny 
 
 And Johnny is not a deceiver ; 
 
 Nickity knack, nickity knack, 
 
 Tom, Dh k, and Harry to-morrow will marry, 
 
 And heigho for love and a weaver ! 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE AND CUCKOO. 
 
 A FABLE. 
 
 A nightingale and cuckoo long 
 
 Had disagreed about their song ; 
 
 The nightingale, iu long oration, 
 
 Pleaded all his variation, — 
 
 His tones of love, and joy, and fear, 
 
 Now mournful trill'd, and now severe ; 
 
 Of high and low, and clear and free, 
 
 Attun'd in choral harmony ; 
 
 And argued, if 't was put to test, 
 
 His surely would be judg'd the best. 
 
 Think how the cuckoo star'd and rav'd, 
 
 To be by such a thing outbrav'd ; 
 
 A little, puny, grey hedge-bird 
 
 To talk so lofty, 'pon my word 1 
 
 Anger prompted, at the challenge, 
 
 To tear the braggart with his talons ; 
 
 But chocking it, he soream'd "proud creature, 
 
 Direct we'll choose an arbitrator, 
 
 To judge my notes, by old and young 
 
 So lov'd, sc listen'd to and sung : 
 
 That being agreed without division, 
 
 They flew to seek some learn'd decision, 
 
 And happen'd, ere one well had spoken, 
 
 To wing close by a hedge just broken, 
 
 "Where an ass was feeding rarely,
 
 148 
 
 Though thievishly, upon some barley ; — 
 
 " Hollo !" the cuckoo cries, " my friend I" — 
 Poor donkey almost stood on end, 
 Thinking t' was the farmer come 
 With mighty hedgestahe and his doom ; 
 But seeing that his fears were vain, 
 He shakes his ears and eats again ; — 
 
 " Here's Philomel in high dispute, 
 And I,— we hope our humble suit 
 Will not offend,— about our song 
 We can'1 :<u r ree;— we wont be long; 
 And you shall hear us and decide ; 
 Your judgement cannot be denied ; 
 Your ears are longest, surely they 
 Were made for music every way." 
 
 " Well," snorts the ass, " go on, go on, — 
 I'll list a moment, till you've done ; 
 I've tasted noi ght — God help my fettle — 
 This day but one poor wizen'd nettle ; 
 And now your bother's come, when fairly 
 I'd burst niy hide upon this barley." 
 The nightingale tnrn'd all his strains 
 Of river-song, ai.d WOodB, and plains ; 
 The other, neither harsh nor low, 
 Twice or thrice sung out " cn< k' o !" 
 
 " Well," sa.^s the B£B, " foi variation 
 Iiiilomel holds thi highest station ; 
 But should he think he beats he's wrong, 
 For I prefer a good plain song." 
 
 THE END.
 
 C. Denton, Machine Printer, Sun-Bridge, Bradford.
 
 (Contents. 
 
 csio 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 The Queen in Switzerland 5 
 
 A Dream of Peel Park 7 
 
 A Royal Hymenean 8 
 
 The Baron of Bierley Hall 9 
 
 Baron of Bierley Hall part second) LO 
 
 A L VIII 11 
 
 The Wfld Boar of Bradford 13 
 
 The Bit D 1 of Eirkleea 11 
 
 Joan of Arc 1 5 
 
 Joan of Arc 16 
 
 A I . 17 
 
 Amonscliffe : A Romanni 18 
 
 Dc Lacy 19 
 
 I ' I . •• 21 
 
 Pity Poor Bradford 22 
 
 St. Crispin and i lid Nick 23 
 
 A Vision of Jndgment by a Clairvoyant 24 
 
 The Chi of Life '_'. r > 
 
 The !:■ ram ■■' ion • ! bora; 27 
 
 A Jubilee f'>r th( 1 1 l 
 
 Chr: I :crul 
 
 The Trial aiul Bentenoe of 1 1»« - Nightingale 
 
 Daw tad rTano] or, I J Obedienoe Rcwanlnl :u 
 
 A Vision of Death 
 
 J
 
 146 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Limbo : A Mystery of Two Scenes 36 
 
 Larry and Biddy 38 
 
 The Force of Example 39 
 
 The Millennium 40 
 
 Adam's Metamorphosis 41 
 
 My First Railway Trip from Bradford to Leeds 42 
 
 The Scotch Packman's Love Letter 43 
 
 Old Mrs. Bull's Mediation between Prussian Bill and 
 
 French Nap 44 
 
 Isabel and Nora 45 
 
 To Napoleon III 40 
 
 Vision of a Norseland Geistkcnnar 47 
 
 The Offering 48 
 
 The Marriage of Truth and Love 49 
 
 Bishop Blaize : His Ghost 50 
 
 The Knight of the Thimble 51 
 
 Behold the Dreamer Cometh 52 
 
 Love 53 
 
 St. Valentine's Evo 54 
 
 Saint Patrick 55 
 
 A Scottish Legend 56 
 
 Battle of the Boyno 57 
 
 Sunday Bicycle Riding 59 
 
 The Cabbage and Rose GO 
 
 The Exile 61 
 
 The Rifleman 62 
 
 Gaffer Reuben 63 
 
 Gaffer Reuben's Saw 64 
 
 To my Mother 65 
 
 A Trip to Morccambe Bay 66 
 
 The Shekinah 67 
 
 A Father's Lament 69 
 
 The Bachelor from Love 70
 
 147 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Doom of Bachelors from Choice 71 
 
 The Witch : A Winter's Talc 72 
 
 To Bro. Ben, of Moorcock Hall 71 
 
 Willie O'Meary's Pig 76 
 
 The Dog and Hare.— A Fable 77 
 
 A Summer Lyric 77 
 
 \ 1 1 ymu 78 
 
 The Skylark 79 
 
 Merited Tine Love 80 
 
 The Raparree 81 
 
 Part of the Sixth Chapter of St. Matthew, Versified .. 82 
 
 Tribute to the Memory of a Friend 83 
 
 The Banner Blue 84 
 
 A 1 1% urn 84 
 
 Origin of the Corn Bill 85 
 
 Son,' 86 
 
 Old Donald's Lament 87 
 
 Natural and Spirit oal Spring 88 
 
 \ Sigh for Lord l'.rougham 8.s 
 
 To iay N, ,v I) .ru Child 89 
 
 To Mary 90 
 
 Love 91 
 
 The Sailor 92 
 
 Thi i tte 93 
 
 \ B< i oade :i 1 
 
 The Genius of Man 95 
 
 Woman 96 
 
 Dunraven 97 
 
 1 1 put of the Musical In itrumenta 98 
 
 \ Sequel to Southey and Byron's Vision of Judgement LOO 
 
 Wh l Bio >ms   K'."» 
 
 1 I 106 
 
 l theriand l<>7
 
 148 
 
 PAOK. 
 
 Tho Temptations of St. Anthony, the first Catholic 
 
 Monk 108 
 
 The Ghost of Reuben Holder Apostrophized 109 
 
 Sonnet HO 
 
 The Poor Man's Child HI 
 
 Sons: H2 
 
 Sunday Morn 112 
 
 The Dethronement of King Conscience Hf! 
 
 Psalm Cxxxvii, Versified 114 
 
 The Special Constable 115 
 
 The Swans H7 
 
 A Wife and Friend 117 
 
 The Besom Hawkers 118 
 
 The Emigrants 11!) 
 
 A Chaunt 120 
 
 Impudence 121 
 
 Titter up Tack't 122 
 
 God is Love, 1st John, iv, 16 124 
 
 The Owl and Birds of Night 124 
 
 Song — Fanny and Annie 12(5 
 
 Sentimental 127 
 
 The Spectre 128 
 
 A Cremean Song 120 
 
 A Memento Vitaa of the late Earl of Derby 130 
 
 Hie Jacet 130 
 
 A Vision 131 
 
 Ode to the Demon of Intemperance 133 
 
 The Widower 136 
 
 The Spirit of Charles Dickens 137 
 
 A Scripture Hymn 138 
 
 Hell 130 
 
 Doom of the Year 1870 140 
 
 The Weaver 141 
 
 The Nightingalo and Cuckoo 142
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below. 
 
 NGTON RAND INC. 20 213 (533) 
 
 KAK* 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS AjNGEL. 4
 
   clCIUTHERN RE 
 
 ^ 000 365 442 3 
 
 rr. 
 U699 
 
 F1372b