Jemingham The ancient English wake THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD ENDOWMENT FUND TH£ ANCIENT ENGLISH WAKE. POEM. By Mr. J E R N I N G H A M. The pomp of elder days, Whence culls the penfive bard his piclured ftores. Dr. T. War TON. LONDON: Printed by William Richardson in the Strand; For JAMES ROBSONin New Bond Street. M DCC LXXIX. ADVERTISEMENT. ^ I A H E Wake is of v-ery great antiquity "*■ in this country. It was held on the day of the Dedication, that is, on the day of the faint to whom the villag-e church was dedicated. Booths were erected in the church-yard and on the adjacent plain, and after divine fervice the reft of the time was devoted to the occupations of the fair, to merriment and feftivity. See Bourne's Antiquities of the Common People, with Obfervations by Mr. Brands 885310 ^^^ ADVERTISEMENT. The merchants, who frequented the fairs in numerous caravans or companies, em- ployed every art to draw the people together. They were therefore accompanied by jug- lers, minflirels, and buffoons. Dr. Warton's Hiftory of Englifli Poetry, vol. ii. p. 367. ^ THE ANCIENT ENGLISH WAKE. HARK! how the merry, merry bells refound To fummoh to the Wake the hamlets round : The villagers in all their beft array Go forth to celebrate the feftive day. Now from the moat-encircled caftle came An aged Chief, who grac'd the roll of Fame : Who knows not * Chester's Earl, to worth ally'd ? The boaft of chivalry, and valour's pride; * A celebrated character in the reign of Henry the Third. B From C 6 ] From courts and bufy camps at length retir'd, To deeds of Fame no longer he afpir'd : Plcas'd, far fequefter'd from the voice of praife, To give to peace his laft remaining days, And V/hile life's honr-glafs near its period ftands,. To watch and pray befide the clofing fands. But, 'mid the ftillnefs of retirement's fhade,, Domeftic forrow on his bofom prey'd : A daughter, fram'd his favor to engage, Pride of his houfe, and foother of his age, Her native manfion had abruptly fled The veil of darknefs o'er the feft was fpread.. Oft of his child fome welcome news to gain The tortur'd father fought, but fought in vain. He ftrives (this day) his forrows to beguile,. And hide his anguilh with a jQckly fmile. The hoary paftor near the village-fane Receiv'd the honour' d chief and all his train : This [ 7 J This holy, meek, difintercfted man Had form'd his ufefiil life on duty's plan : Unpraftis'd in thofe arts that teach to rife, The vacant mitre ne'er allur'd his eyes* Regardlefs ftill of diflipation's call, He feldom tarried at the feftive hall, Where all around the ftoried texture hung. Where pfaltries founded, and where minftrels fung ; But to the humble cot's negleded door The facred man the balm of comfort bore : Still would he liften to the injur'd fwain, For he who liftens mitigates the pain : There was he feen reclining o'er the bed. Where the pale maiden bow'd her anguifh'd head ;; Where, reft of hope, the yielding vidlim lay, And like a wreath of fnow difTolv'd away : With feeling foul the paftor oft enquir'd Where the meek train of filent grief retir'd. Shame that declines her forrows to impart, The drooping fpirit, and the broken heart. He [ 8 ] He ne'er the friar's gaping wallet fed, But to the widow fent his loaf of bread : His fee to Rome reludlantly he paid, And call'd the Pardoner's a pilf'ring trade. The facred Pfalter well he knew to glofs, And on its page illuminate the Crofs : The written Miffal on the altar feen, Inclos'd in velvet of the richefh green, Difplay'd initials by his fancy plann'd, Whofc brilliant colours own'd his fkilful hand. This gaily-letter'd book his art devls'd. The temple's only ornament compriz'd : The hallow'd fervice of this raodeft fane (Far from the fplendor of a choral train) Could boaft no labour'd chant, no folemn rites. No clouds of incenfe, and no pomp of lights, But at the plain and lowly altar ftands The village-prieft with pure uplifted hands, Invokingr from above Heav'n's G;uardian care, In all the meek fimplicity of pray'r. Fam'd t 9 ] Fam'd Chester, now returning from the fane, Surveys the tents gay-fpreading o'er the plain; Beneath whofe roof the merchant-band difplay'd The cheerful fcenery of adlive trade : While fome intent on wealth, with fober view, The graver purport of the fair purfue ; Some of a free and roving mind partake The lighter callings of the bufy Wake ; Thefe urge the prefcient feer, deep-vers'd in fate, Some palTage .of their ftory^to relate : There the fond maid, folicitous to know Some future inftance of her joy or woe, Attends, half-unbelieving, half fincere, To the vague dictates of the artful feer. Some by the travel'd pilgrim take their ftand. To hear the wonders of a foreign flrand ; While others, fmitten with the love of fong, Around the minftrel's harp attentive throng. Of war and daring chiefs the mafler fung, While from the chords terrific founds he flung : At C 10 3 At length, clefccnding from his lofty mood, The feeling bard a milder theme pnrfiicd, And gently wak'd thofe foft, complaining tones, So dear to melody which Scotland owns *, Now, when the thronging audience all withdrew, A beauteous maiden ftill remain'd in view : She feem'd as one of the dejefted kind, Whofe face betrays the fecret of the mind ; She look'd as parting day ftill ting'd with ligbt, Or fummer's eve when fading into night : She fpoke * Sweet are the fongs from Scotland's coaft,- ' They, they admire them beft who feel them moft : * Abrupt, pathetic airs, devoid of art, * That breathe upon the foul and melt the heart : * Though the Scottifh mufic, as we now have it, is attributed to James the Firft of Scotland, yet, as moft of the harpers were fuppofed to have come from the North, it is very probable that there was fomething alluring and charai5leriftic in the northern mufic previous to that period, and which partook of the ftyle that reigns in the corr,pofitions of James the Firft, and which TafToni calls Mufica lamentevok e mefta differente da tutte I'altre. * Still, [ " ] * Still, when the bard fome mournful tale records, * With plaintive harmony they clothe his words ; ' Ah! then they witnefs to the car of grief, ' That food to forrow is the beft relief. * Bend, gen'rous minflrel, to a mourner's pray'r, * Soothe with thy art the ills I'm doom'd to bear ; * Still let fome Highland airs thy fkill employ, ' And fteep my foul in melancholy joy.' Attentive to the tuneful maid's requeft. With magic touch the weeping harp he prefs'd^ m And waken'd into life that pow'rful ftrain, ^ Whofe found perfuaiive charms almoft to pain^ That thrilling harmony to nature true, li Whofe arrows only wound the facred few, 1 " . , . ' See now the throng in cluft'ring numbers go '^ To where the troop difplay'd the gaudy fhow * : * Dr. Warton obferves in his Hiftory of Englifh Poetry, that the fubjeft of this fort of fpedacle was (till the reign of Henry the Seventh) confined to moral allegory, or to religion blended with buffoonery. They Tliey iirll prefcnted to th' expeding view, Amid encircling clouds of richefl hue, Religion, on a throne exalted high. While flow'rs fell fprinkling from the mimic fky : Now ftately ent'ring on the fplendid fcene, Array'd in white, three female forms were feen : Thefe female figures to th' admiring crowd The names of Faith, of Hope, of Love avow'd : Three rivals ; they appear before the throne To plead — and make their various merit known. Faith, while a fable band o'erfpread her eyes, In accents to this purport claim'd the prize ; ' Foe to the prying fearch of fhallow wit, ' Thy facred Lore, unqueftion'd, I admit : ' Before the dazzling fplendor of the Law ' I clofe my view, and bend with trembling awe.' Hope, with an air to confidence ally'd, Advanc'd— -Her fymbol leaning at her fide T * The C 13 ] ' The Tea of life do wrecking winds deform ? * Borne on a plank, I fmile amidft the ftorm : ^ Still thro' the dark'ning fhow'rs that intervene, * With piercing view I mark the promised fcene, * Where, lift'ning to the ocean's diftant roar, * Delight fits harbour'd near the fragrant fhore.' Next Charity, with looks that dwelt on high, Her foul, ecftatic, beaming from her eye. Began ' No fond expe The beauteous Agatha began to fpeak : * Proud of my anceftry, our honor' d name * Shall ne'er thro* me receive the blaft of fhame; * Pure as the lily drooping with the dew * (Heav'n is my judge) I now approach thy view.' * Then with a father's wonted glow I burUj * My fond affedlions all to thee return ; « Thy look, thy words, thy tears each doubt eiFace,' He faid — and lock'd her in his clofe embrace. At length he urged his daughter to recite The dark myfterious purport of her flight. In . [ I^ ] In ad: to fpeak advanc'd the beauteous fair, And drew attention ftiil as midnight aii- : She figh'd — the rofes on her cheek grew pale, While expcdation panted for the tale. Recall,' Hie faid, ' that brilliant hour recall, When firft Rodolphus grac'd the feftive hall, Adorn'd with valor's wreath, in early fame. In flow'r of youth, in beauty's pride he came ; The blufli of diffidence was on his brow, When in foft voice he fpoke the ardent vow: Oh kind, oh generous fire 1 thy friendly voice Approv'd the youth, and fandified my choice : To his affedion as I nearer drew, Encrealing merit open'd on my view : When he difcours'd (till then to me unknown) I breath'd the figh that forrow does not own : Regardlefs of the throng when he was by, Still linger'd on his form my love-fick eye, Still did each moment fome new charm difclofe, « As brings each gale new fragrance from the rofe. < Oh [ 17 ] * Oh tender fire ! thou nam'ft the nuptial hour, * And grac'd thy daughter with a regal dow'r : * Ah me! what boots it that I now difplay, * The fatal cloud that brooded o'er that day? * That day — when hope had chas'd each ling'ring fear, ^ When all my fond expectancies drew near, * When love and fortune fmil'd joy turn'd afide, * And left me, plung'd in woe, misfortune's bride : ' To the fwift progrefs of difeafe a prey, * On death's terrific couch Rodolphus lay ; * As forrow wounded o'er his form I bent, * His clofing voice thefe accents feebly fcnt— — *' The pow'r above, whofe will we muft obey, *' Who tears me now from thee and joy away, ** Late law me at the confcious altar bow, *' And heard thefe lips pronounce the hallow'd vow, ^' Beneath the banner of the Crofs to JlaJid^ *' And fcourge ih"" ufurpers of the Holy Land. ^' This unaccomplifh'd vow to thee I leave, ** With ftedfaft ear my parting words receive ; E " la [ i8 ] " In the fmall compafs of an urn enrhrin'd ** To fome bold warrior be my heart confign'd^ " To live with him when his intrepid hand " Shall fcourge th' ufurpers of the Holy Land."' He ceas'd— — his fading eyes now roU'd in vain. Now clos'd — and never gaz'd on me again *. * No bold advent'rous war-bred youth I fought,. For love infpired me with a bolder thought : I dropt the robe that deck'd the peaceful maid. And, in the vvarrior'^s garb of fteel array'd, Amidft the embattled ranks unknown I flood Beneath the banner of the holy rood. As in their urn Rodolphus' allies flept, I bore them to the plain where Rachel wept. * It was not unufual during the long period of the Crufades for the knights to make this requeft upon their death-beds. Among other inftances,. fee particularly one mentioned by Froiffart in his firft volume, chapter 21, where the king of Scotland entreats Douglas to embalm his heart imme- diately after his deceafe, ia order to carry it with him to the holy war. * Peace C 19 ] * Peace to the fouls of Archers that were hurl'd ' In that dread moment to another world ! * Fierce from the hands of hoftile Pagans flung, ' Dark o'er the field a cloud of jav'lins hung, * Still to this mind returns (difmifs'd in vain) * The thimd'ring tumult of the horrid plain. ' At length our daring men to valor true ^ The fiery-trefled Saracens o'erthrew: ' Still doft thou afk what charm, what facred pow'r, * Upheld my frame in danger's rudeft hour? * Behold, behold the wonder ^'onae^ charm *, * That calm'd my fear in danger's ^rude alarm: * This little tomb that clafps his better part, * Where fleep the afhes of his fpotlefs heart, * This relic, as it touch'd my confcious breaft, ' My fainting foul with energy impreft. * Enough foon as the flag of truce unfurFd * Its fofter color to the Pagan world, * Taking the urn from her garment. < To* [ ^0 ] * To England then I urg'd my lonefome way, ' Cloath'd in tkis pilgrim garb of amice grey: * Still as tke tenor of my way I kept, * O'er thee, oh father ! fond remembrance wept : ' Oft did I foy, while; tears roU'd down my face * (And as I fpoke I mov'd with cjiukker pace) * By Time's devafling hand defpoil'd of friends, ' Unfpous'd, undaiighter'd, my lov'd parent bends, -* Like defolation, all unfenc'd he fhews. ' Expofed and naked to affailing woes, * I go, I go his forrows to affuage, ' To fmooth with filial hand the couch of age: * Ply duty's tafk, whofe labors never tire, ^ Invent young fports to cheer his evening fire; « The joy I cannot feel to him impart, * And brighten with his fmiles my drooping heart.* * Forbear, forbear,' th' enraptur'd father cries, (While tears of gladnefs glitter in his eyes) * Oh infupportable 1 oh joyful hour ! -* That burfts upon me in a flood of pow'r,' [ ^I ] He ceas'd — and to the moat-cncircled dome, In triumph led the beauteous wand'rer home ; Where at the caflle-gate expedling ftaid, A num'rous train to greet the welcome maid. "Mean-while tlie jocund villagers convene, Where the wreath'd may-pole crowns the feflive green. The comely maids the gifted riband wear, Gay-ftreaming from the flow'r-encircled hair. See with the am'rous youths they now advance. Demand the muiic, and provoke the dance ; Link'd hand in hand they form the mirthful round. Obedient to the ilirill pipe's nimble found. Thus on the flowing ftream of time, the day "With profp'rous fails glides rapidly away. Till, as the faint beams glimmer from the weft. The curfew tolls the hamlet train to reft. THE END, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. mR I 1984 Form L9-50m-7, '54(5990)444 PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE THIS BOOK CARDn ^t#BRARYQ^ University Research Library CI} -iX- — TS- --