THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES POEMS. BY MRS. CHARLES NEALDS. LONDON: PRLNTED FOR C. J. G. & F. RIVINGTON, ST. Paul's church-yard, AND WATERLOO-PLACE, PALL-MALL. 1829. LONDON: IMtlNTliD IIY K. OILBEltT, ST. John's squaiil. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LADY STAFFORD, OF COSSEY HALL, NEAR NORWICH. MADAM, When I had the honour of addresshig your Ladyship on a very different subject from the present, You gi'atiously returned an answer replete with benevolent kindness ; embold- ened by this, I again solicited your favour, A 2 865S33 IV DEDICATION. and informed your Ladyship of my real motives for publishing, and I now beg to offer my unfeigned thanks for the permis- sion you have condescendingly gi'anted me to dedicate my simple Poems to you. — Knowing, as I do, your Ladyship's opinion of any thing which might appear compli- mentary, I dare not express my grateful feelings in the language my heart would dictate ; I therefore can only assure your Ladyship that, that heart must be cold and lifeless ere it ceases to remember with gratitude the flattering kindness you have shewn me. With fervent prayers for a long conti- DEDICATION. V nuance of health and happiness to your Ladyship and family, I have the honour to subscribe myself. Your Ladyship's gratefully obedient. And faithfully devoted servant, ADELINE MARTHA NEALDS. WiCKLEWOOD, May 19th, 1829. PREFACE. When I first formed the design of publish- ing, I had planned a poetical tale of consi- derable length, but was compelled to relin- quish my intention, finding that the inces- sant interruptions of five young children, added to domestic sickness, were great obstacles to literary composition. Many of the Poems in this little volume were written under these disadvantages, and I now must tnist to the kindness of a generous Vlll PREFACE. public to overlook their numerous errors, and I send the work forth " with all its im- perfections on its head ;" but if the perusal of it should assist in passing away the tedious hours of the invahd, or chase away melan- choly reflections for a while from the mind which is a prey to grief, I shall hope I have not written in vain. C O jN T E N T 8. PAGE Sonnet on resuming the Lyre 3 Address to Hope 4 Sonnet 7 Irregular Stanzas, written during affliction 8 To a beloved Sister, on her birth-day 9 Lines sent with a plain hair ring to a dear Friend. ... 10 Written in a Grotto, at Runcton, near Lynn Regis, Norfolk 11 Stanzas written during a Storm at Middleton 12 An Adieu 13 To Death 14 To Marianne 15 Lines written on a court-[)laister case 16 X CONTENTS. PAGE Song 17 To Sarah J 18 To the memory of an affectionate lAl other 19 Sonnet 20 To 21 Stanzas to a Rose 22 To Ariel 24 Midnight Stanzas 25 Sonnet, the idea taken from Ossian's Hymn to the Evening Star 27 Sonnet written durijig sickness and sorrow 28 Written in an Album 29 Irregular Stanzas 30 Serenade 33 Lady's Answer 35 Lines Avritten during the severe illness of my youngest Girl 38 To 39 Lines written after the death of the best of Mothers, 1815 45 On attending the Sacrament 48 Stanzas ■'^^ CONTENTS. XI PAGE Fragment 52 To Julia 54 Sonnet to my sleeping Infant 56 To 5S To a young Lady who indulged in melancholy on a trifling occasion 60 Flower girl's Song 62 Written in the very small Album of a widowed Friend 64 Stanzas for Music ^ 65 Address to the Evening Star &7 To a beautiful and amiable Girl, on seeing her very plainly attired for a Ball 68 Song 71 Stanzas written on a beautiful Summer's night, which brought back the recollection of happier hours 72 Sonnet. To my eldest Daughter 74 Stanzas 75 Sonnet, occasioned by finding a bird's nest blown doAvn by the high wind, April 1829 77 To a young Friend, who, with some others and my- self, had represented characters in Miss Porter's beautiful Novel of ' the Scottish Chiefs' 78 XU CONTENTS. PAGE To my second Child, on the Anniversary of her birth, February 15th, 1828 .^ 80 Lines written on the Album Card of a young Lady be- longing to the Society of Friends, who had re- peatedly said, " Thou art not a Friend' ' 85 Sonnet to a Primrose blooming on a barren bank early in the Month of January, 1829 86 Written in the elegant Album of Miss R. who particu- larly desired I would write some Lines for her. . 8/ Written in Wliite-house Wood, the favourite walk of the Authoress 89 Sonnet 91 Written to an amiable Quakeress, on her requesting me to write a few lines in her Album 92 Written in the Album of a young Lady very fond of angling, on hearing she was receiving the ad- dresses of Mr. Brooks 94 To my Husband 95 On the Death of 98 Sonnet 99 Morning Address to my Children 100 Sonnet 102 CONTENTS. xm PAGE Written in my Nephew's Souvenir 103 To Eliza 106 Sonnet to my eldest Boy, on his tenderly inquiring why I so often looked unhappy 107 Stanzas 108 Written under the expectation of shortly leaving the place where I had passed the early part of my Ufe Ill Sonnet written after passing a day with a beloved Friend after a very long separation 114 Song — . ..... 115 On the death of a beloved heart-broken Friend, dedi- cated to her sorrowing Relatives 119 Stanzas '. '. 124 To a Chestnut Tree, planted in commemoration of the birth of the Authoress 129 Written on the 23d of June, 1829, the Anniversary of the birth of a favourite Niece 135 Farewell to the Lyre 136 Written on the arri\al of a newly married pair at the residence of the Bridegroom's father 138 LIST OF SUBSCllIlJEllS. All>einarl«, Kiglit Hoiiouiable Eail of, Quiddciiliani, NorlVilk Albemarle, Right Honourable Countess of, Ditto Allison, Mrs. KiiaptoD, Norfolk Arnold, Lad3' Ajling, Rev. U. Guildford, Surry Ajling, Mrs. Ditto Banks, W. H. Esq. R.N. Ryde, Isle of Wight Baker, Mr. Bury St. Edmund's Bayes, Mr. F. P. Wymondham, Norfolk Bajres, Mrs. F. P. Ditto Beloe, Rev. H. P. Rector of Guildford, Surry Beloe, Mrs. Ditto Betenhoil', Rev. C. Bolingbroke, N. Esq. Norwich Bristow, Mrs. Hackney Browne, Rev. G. A. Burroughs, Miss, Burdeld Hall, Norfolk SUBSCRIBERS. XV C. CaDL, Rev. J. Wranipliugliam, Norfolk Caiin, W. R. Esq. Cavick House, Norfolk Cann, Mrs. W.R. Ditto Cann, Mrs. T. W'ymoudbaiii Cann, Mr. J. Ditto Cadjwold, Miss Jane, Kimberley Cockle, W.Esq. Atileborougli, Norfolk Cockle, Mrs. Ditto Cockle, Miss, Ditto Coke, T. W. Esq. M,P. Holkhaiu Hall, Norfolk Coke, Lady Ann, Ditto Colinan, Rev. J. Rector of Knaptou, &;c. Colman, T. E.T. Esq. Paris Colman, Miss, Wicklewood Colman, Miss H. Ditto Colman, Mr. J. R. C. Ditto Colman, Miss, Attleborough, Norfolk Colman, Miss Lucy, Ditto Cremer, Rev. R. Wymondbam— {' Tho Copies.) Crenier, Mrs. Ditto Cremer, Mr. F. Norwicb — (Two Copies.) Cruise, Rev. M. Culyer, Mrs. Wyinondhani D, Dalton, Jobn, Esq. Daniel, W. Esq. Wymondham Darby, Rev. J. Vicar of Wicklewood— (Two Copies.) Darell, J. Esq. Poringland, Norfolk Davis, R. S. Esq. London XVI SUBSCRIBERS. Denison, W. J. Esq. M.P. Surry De Vere, Miss Drake, Mrs. Norfolk E. Elkins, Mrs. W. Guildford Elkins, Edmund, Esq. Ditto Foster, W. Esq. Norwich Fraser, Honourable Mrs. Fraser Castle, Scotland Friend, Miss, Bury St. Edmunds, Sullblk G. Gapp, Miss L. Wilby, Norfolk Gardiner, Mrs. Cringleford, Norfolk Grantley, Right Honourable Lord, Wonersh House, Surry Grantley, Lady, Ditto Gumra, Miss, Guildford, Surry H. Halls, Mr. Wymondham Heigham, Mr. R. Lakenham, Norfolk Heighatn, Mrs. R. Ditto— (Two Copies.) Heyward, Miss, Wymondham Hockley, Joseph, Esq. Guildford Hockley, Mrs. Ditto J. Jackson, Mr. R. C. Leeds, Yorkshire Jackson, Mr. R. Queen's College, Cambridge SUBSCRIBERS. Xvii JacksoD, Miss, Overstrand, Norfolk Jackson, Miss M. Ditto Ja>-, Mrs. Bury, Suffolk Jeffs, Miss, Sapiston, Suffolk Jerningham, Honourable Mr. Porliiiau-sino—( Three Copies.) Watson, Miss, Guildford Watson, Miss Waugh, G. Esq. Guildford Waugh, Mrs. Ditto Waugli, G. Esq. juD. Great James-street Waagh, Mrs. G. Ditto Warren, Miss, Attleborougli Wells, Mr. Wymondliam Westgate, Miss, Bestliorpe, Norfolk. Westgate, Miss C. Hardwick, Sutlblk Wheatley, Mr. Mundsley Wlieatley, Mrs. Ditto Wiblen, Mrs, Guildford Wilcke, Mrs. Guildford Wilsea, S. P. Esq. Silfield, Norfolk Wilsea, Mrs. S. P. Ditto— ("jTwo Copies.) Wynford, Right Honourable Lord, Ellliani, Ktnt ADDITIONAL SUBSCRIBERS. BenjaCeld, Mrs. Bury St. Edmunds Botwrigbt, Ditto Deck, Mrs. Ditto Frost, Mrs. Ditto Ged^e, Mrs. Ditto Harrington, Mrs. Ditto Jannings, Mrs. Ditto Tlioinas, Mrs. Ditto Barker, Mr. Ditto ERRATA. 11 for " at Runiton, near Lyniie," read " at Runctoii, near Lvnti." 16 — "I kindly tend," read " I kindly lend." 18 — " vvlio love thee,"rearf " who loves." 19 — " and she no more," read " and she's no more." 36 line i, for '' you've," read " thou'st." 38 for " ray once blooming," read " once sweet lovely flower." 63 line 9, for " poses," read "posies." 100 verse 2, line 4, /or " earlj' " read " daily." 128 lineli, for " thoul't," rearf " thou'lt." POEMS. POEMS. SONNET ON RESUMING THE LYRE. Once more I snatch my lyre, my much lov'd lyre. From the dark willow where it lonff has hun" : But my weak fingers tremble o'er each wire, For oh! the hand of sorrow has those wires strung. It was my pastime once, in happier hours, To strike those chords, and songs of joy (o sing, B % To twine around them wreaths of blooming flow'rs, And wake to melody its every string. Now round that lyre I cypress garlands wreathe, And bid its tones be plaintive, soft, and low: For vain the wish that it again should breathe Aught but the wailings of despair and woe. Perchance 'twill soothe awhile my bosom's pain. Then, gentle lyre, I'll hang thee up again. ADDRESS TO HOPE. Say, lovely Hope, thou bland enticei', say Why with false joys deceive my trusting heart ; Why sing so sweetly thy seductive lay. And bid my sorrows for awhile depart ? 5 Why deck each future scene with op'ning flow'rs, Why whisper to my soul I shall he hlest ? Why gild with airy bliss the passing hours, And soothe into serenity my breast ? Oh tell me why thou bind'st thy lovely brow With rosy wreaths, and lead'st nie by the hand Through flow'ry paths, and o'er my senses throw A sweet enchantment with thy magic wand ? Too well I know why thus thou smil'st on me, Too well I know it is but to deceive ; For I, alas ! too oft have trusted thee. And, though betray 'd, again I did believe. Too well I know thy soft bewitching wiles, Too ol't have heard thee sing tliy gipsy lay; () Too well I know that trcacirrous are the smiles That round thy dimpled mouth so sweetly play. Too well I know that pois'nous is the wreath Which now appears so beauteous to the view, That every flow'r conceals a thorn beneath, And I thy blandishments ere long shall rue. Then go, sweet syren, quickly hence depart ; I ne'er will trust that 'witching look again : Fly, fly for ever from my tortur'd heart, And let me now in solitude complain. Yet no ! I feel I cannot bid thee go ; Stay, stay yet longer, though thou dost deceive ; Again around me thy enchantments throw. Again, sweet sorceress, I'll thy smiles believe. Yes ! yes ! I court thee, lovely Hope, to stay, Though late I bade thee ever from me fly ; Oh ! shed thy glimm'ring light around my way, And never, never quit me, till I die. SONNET. How sweet at ev'ning's twilight horn- To wander on the green hill's brow, To hear mild Philomela pour Her plaintive warblings, soft and low : And sweet to see the silver moon Play lightly on the foamy waves, At midnight's bright and starry noon, When sea-nymphs leave their coral caves. But ah ! we feel no real joy If all alone our steps we bend ; But pleasure is without alloy, When bless'd with Heav'n's best gift, a Friend. The desert would to me an Eden prove, If traversal with the friend I dearly love. IRREGULAR STANZAS, WRITTEN DURING AFFLICTION. Father Omnipotent ! I lowly bend Before thy glorious throne, In Thee still sure to find a Friend, I trust in Thee, in Thee alone. 9 And tho' with grief this heart is rent, I'll bless the hand that doth chastise, Assur'd that all my woes are meant As tender mercies in disguise. Thou, Thou alone canst dry these eyes, Thou, Thou alone canst hush these sighs ; 'Tis only Thou canst ease this troubled breast, And bid this wounded spirit hope for rest. TO A BELOVED SISTEU, ON HER BIRTH-DAY Accept, dear Catherine, of this simple lay, Which hails thy happy natal day ; 10 Oh ! may thy years with pleasure's wreaths be crown'd, And each revolving hour in bliss fly round ; May'st thou excel in every path of life, As daughter, sister, mother, friend, and wife ; And when our latest sighs on earth are given, Oh! may we meet in perfect bliss in heaven. LINES SENT WITH A PLAIN HAIR RING TO A DEAR FRIEND. Accept, dear girl, from friendship's hand, This little, trifling, worthless token ; Remember, it is friendship's band, And may it ne'er, oh! ne'er be broken. 11 WRITTEN IN A GROTTO, AT RUNITON, NEAR LYNNE REGIS, NORFOLK. Within this Grotto's shell-clad walls, Far happier could I pass my hours. Than nurs'd in grandeur's gilded halls, And rich in fortune's plenteous stores. To deck its sides the rolling waves Have yielded many a beauteous shell, And many a plant from ocean's caves Is laid within this fairy cell. So well do art and taste combine To make it lovely to the sight ! And nature's gems so brightly shine, All eyes must view it with delight. 12 STANZAS, WRITTEN DURING A STORM AT MIDDLKTON, Loud howls the blast ! the beating rain Descends in torrents on the ground ; Across the heath my eyes I strain, But all is dark and drear around. Alas ! for me no friendly door Now opens at my well known call, I wander cheerless o'er the moor, While from my eyes sad tear-drops fall. I once was bless'd with friends and home, And happily each hour flew by, But now bereft of all I roam, And peace and joy far from me fly. 13 Alike to me the summer's heat, And hoary winter's nipping frost ; I hope in heav'n repose to meet, For ev'ry bhss on earth I've lost. AN ADIEU. Farewell, belov'd ! we part to meet no more ! ril think of thee where'er my footsteps stray ! And though our hours of happiness are o'er, The dear remembrance of them long will stay. Fond Mem'ry, ever faithful to the past, Will paint those hours in colours bright and fair; Dear happy hours, that were too sweet to last, Now banish'd by the cruel hand of care ! 14 TO DEATH. Friend of the wretched, why so long delay To give my heart thy kind unerring stroke ? What now on earth can make me wish to stay, Since ev'ry tie which bound me there is broke ! How all is chang'd in one short fleeting year ! No friend, no parent, now remain for me ; No lover kind, to chase the falling tear : Nought now is left but endless misery. Cease, mem'ry, cease, nor rack my tortur'd breast, With thoughts of joy beyond recovery fled ; On earth no peace I find, and ne'er shall rest. Till I am number'd with the silent dead. 15 TO MARIANNE. My Marianne, the moon's cold beam Now silvers yonder rippling stream, And sweetly shines on me ; I gaze upon her lovely face, And mem'ry aids me to retrace The hom-s I've spent with thee. How oft together have we seen In peerless splendor night's fair queen Sail through the cloudless sky ! But fate decreed that we should part ; And irom my fond and faithful heart Now bursts the frequent sigh. 2 - 16 How short, alas ! was joy's bright clay, How swiftly flew the hours away, When with my much lovW friend / Oh grant, ye gracious powers above, That ours may lasting friendshij) prove, And never know an end ! LINES WRITTEN ON A COURT-PLAISTER CASE. If pin or knife thy skin should harm, I kindly tend my healing art ; But I, alas ! possess no balm To heal the wounds of Cupid's dart. 17 SONG. Oh! leave me, leave me not behind, But let me with thee go ! With thee I'll face the wintry wind, The scorching heat, or flaky snow. Oh ! why from Rosaline depart ? Why break her fond and faithful heart ? Through the dark wood's wild mazes, love. Thy footsteps I'll attend, And ever to thee will I prove A kind and tender friend. Then lot me, let mc i^o with thee, Nor break the heart that beats for thee ! 18 TO SARAH J My Sarali, when away from thee My wand'ring steps are doom'd to stray, Say wilt thou ever think of me Who love thee still though far away? I know not by what secret chain My willing heart was drawn to thee ; It seem'd as though some prior claim Entitled thee to love from me. Surely, dear girl, we were design'd In friendship's bands enthrall'd to be ; Our hearts by sympathy are join'd ; Our feelings, thoughts, and words agree. 19 Then let me clasp thee to my breast, My love for thee shall never end ; Oh ! I shall feel supremely blest, To find in thee a faithful friend. TO THE MEMORY OF AN AFFECTIONATE MOTHER. Once on a mother's tender breast I sigh'd my sorrowing heart to rest. But that is past — and she no more ; Whilst I in hopeless agony Must mourn those happy days arc o'er Which brought such bhss to me : For ne'er again on that dear breast Will my sad heart be hush'd to rest. c 2 '20 SONNET. When night avounti her sable mantle throws, And others' eyes are clos'd in peaceful sleep, I watchful lie, musing on all my woes, I wake with misery's tears my couch to steep. But 'twas not always thus ; I once was gay, Once I was foremost in mirth's festive throng ; Some new-born pleasure hail'd me ev'ry day, Each evening clos'd with some light jocund song. Lightly I tripp'd through childhood's flow'ry maze, And in my path cull'd many a blooming flow'r ; Ah ! little thinking that such halcyon days So sweetly smiling would so soon be o'er. But each sweet hope which blossom'd wild and fair Is blighted by the blast of dark despair. '^1 TO . Then, most belov'd, from thee I soon must part, Must lose the dearest blessing of my life, And wander thro' this world of care and strife Without thy arm to shield my trembling form From the rude pelting of misfortune's storm. Without thy smiles to cheer my drooping heart. To part from thee — what woe is in the thought ! Oh that indifference would this bosom steel ; That this poor heart, now with such anguish fraught, W^ould calmer be — and not thus keenly feel ! But ah ! though endless mis'ry must be mine, On thee may joy's bright sun unclouded shine. 22 STANZAS TO A ROSE. Tiiou loveliest flow'r that ever bloom'd Beneath the summer's ardent sky, Oh ! wherefore are thy beauties doom'd So soon to wither, fade, and die ! But yesterday thou wert array 'd In all the budding charms of youth. Sweet as the blushing village maid, Fair as the spotless form of truth. This morn I paus'd with joy to view The glowing beauties of thy face, Thy silken leaves of love's own hue. Thy form matur'd in matchless grace. 23 But now I mark with sad surprise, Thy evanescent bloom decay ; Quickly will fade thy roseate dyes, Soon will thy beauties pass away. E'en while I gaze, thy lovely head Is bending towards its parent earth ; Soon will thy glories all be shed Upon the spot which gave them birth. Sweet Rose ! still to my heart thou'rt dear. Though 'reft of all thy fragrant bloom ; I'll place thy wither'd beauties /lere, I'll make this woe-worn breast tiiy tomb. 04 TO ARIEL. Guardian Spirit! why forsake me? Why suspend thy friendly care 'i Under thy protection take me ; Let not danger liover near. Whither, Ariel, dost thou wander ? In what lovely shady grove, Where soft murmuring rills meander, Stray'st thou with thy fairy love ? Come haste, return, dear Guardian Spirit ! To W thy light steps bend Thy friendship I will strive to merit. To thy sweet precepts I'll attend. 2.5 MIDNIGHT STANZAS. Sweet god of sleep, oh! hear my pray'r, Listen to me, I implore thee ! Let visions soft as liquid air In quick succession flit before me.' Morplieus, come, and with thee bring Young zephyrs round my couch to fly, And elfin minstrels that may sing To me a fairy lullaby. Zephyr, fan me with thy wing ; Minstrel, lull me with thy lay; Thy poppies, Morpheus, round me fling, That I may sleep till break of day. 26 Then waft me to the rosy bow'r Where with my Henry oft I rove ; There let me pass the fleeting hour With him I so sincerely love. Zephyr hasten to my lover,. Bear this kiss, this sigh, this tear, Say as you round him gently hover Anna weeps that he's not near. And whisper low when back you rove. That thoughts of me possess his breast ; Thou'lt seem an angel from above, And softly soothe my soul to rest. 27 SONNET, THE IDEA TAKEN FROM OSSIAn's HYMN TO THE EVENING STAR. Star of descending night ! How fair thy lovely light ! Thou lift'st thy unshorn head From thy dark cloudy bed. Thy steps are stately on the plain, The stormy winds are hush'd again. Up yonder rock that mocks the force of time. The roaring waves impetuous strive to climb ; The flies of ev'ning hum thro' yonder field. Scarce can their languid wings assistance yield. What dost thou see, oh ! star most fair ? But now thou go'st to bathe thy lovely hair In waves surrounding thee with gladness, Farewell, tiiou silent beam of sadness. 2 28 SONNET, WRITTEN DURING SICKNESS AND SORROW. In meditative mood I lie Upon my i-cstless couch of pain ; To close my weary eyes I try, And balmy sleep I court in vain. For she, alas ! too often flies From the sad wretch, a prey to woe, To light upon the beaming eyes Of those whose breasts with pleasure glow. Oh ! seldom round my aching head Her poppy wreaths she deigns to twine. Or on my unclos'd lids to shed One drop of Lethe's dew benign. Each morning dawns upon my grief, And night, alas ! brings no relief. 29 WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. I WISH I could just now command The services of some benignant fairy, Or if she'd lend to tne her magic wand, How happy I would make thee, dearest Mary ! But as I know that cannot be the case. Accept my kindest wishes in the place. I wish thee, Mary, years of health, And all thy young and ardent heart would treasure Of joy, and love, and happiness, and wealth, And every sweet and dear domestic pleasure. Ill this brief life may these to thee be given, And afterwards the endle.ss joys of heaven. /!/ JO IRREGULAR STANZAS. Yes ! I have ever lov'd thee dearly. Than fame or riches priz'd thee more ; Once I tliought thou lov'dst sincerely, But now that dream of bliss is o'er. False and cruel I have found thee, Though to love me thou hast sworn ; And when dangers did surround me, All for thee I've gladly borne. Oft when night in sable sadness Cloth'd the hill, the grove, and plain, Loving thee almost to madness. Heedless of the wind and rain ; I have wanderM to yon mountain. From the mountain to the grove, Then beside yon glassy fountain, Listen'd for thy coming, love ! And when at last thou cam'st, my lover. And on the green turf lightly sprung, I found I could not chide my rover, As on his neck I fondly hung. But all thy vows to me are broken, And thou hast sought a richer bride; Thy name must ne'er by me be spoken ; My sorrow must be hush'd by pride. Before the altar thou hast plighted The faith which once thou gav'st to me ; 32 And though n/?/ liopps on eartli arc bhghtcd, I'll pray for th// felicity. And seek not thou again to waken Thoughts which should now for ever sleep ; For though by thee betray'd, forsaken, Thy image I will fondly keep. Then go — and though we part for ever, On thee my fondest thoughts will dwell, For life from this sad heart must sever. Ere I forget thee — fare thee well ! 33 SERENADE. I've planted my bower With many a flower, And I've bid them bloom for thee ; Then come, sweet maid, To the green-wood shade. Where blossoms the hawthorn tree. A wreath I've twin'd, Thy brow to bind, And I've hung it on a bough, Till thou shalt come To our fairy home, Why, lady, linger'st thou ? D 34 Around thee wait, In pomp and state, Full many an humble slave ; But come to my bow'r, At evening hour, Where the hawthorn branches wave. And, lady, mine, Oh ! cease to twine Thy locks with ought but flow'rs ; Leave costly gear, For those to wear, Who'd scorn such a life as ours. Then come to night. The moon shines bright. On yonder castle wall, 35 In my bow'r of green, I will crown thee queen, With a fairy coronal. Then, lady, come, Leave the gilded dome, Of thy father's princely hall, And my bower shall be A palace to thee, And thou shalt be queen of all. LADY'S ANSWER. If thou'st planted thy bower With many a flower, And bade them bloom for me, D 2 30 I'll come to the vale, Where the nightingale Sings on the hawthorn tree. If a wreath you've twin'd, My brows to bind, Be sure that wreath I'll wear, When I shall come To thy fairy home. And long will I tarry there. Around me wait, In courtly state. Full many a cringing slave ; But I'll come to thy bow'r, At the soft ev'ning hour, Where the hawthorn branches wave. 37 I ne'er will twine These locks of mine, With any thing but flow'rs, Each gaud and gem, I'll leave to them. Who'd scorn a life like ours. I'll come to night, When the moon's pale light Is hid by a shadowing cloud, I'll leave the dome, Of my father's home, And his princely turrets proud. Then wait for me, By the linden tree, That grows by the castle wall ; 38 In thy bower of green, I will be (jueen, And thou be lord of all. LINES WRITTEN DURING THE SEVERE ILLNESS OF MY YOUNGEST GIRL. Oh! pale art thou, my once blooming flow'r, And faint and weak thy little form appears, Which late bloom'd freshest in thy mother's bow'r ; Alas ! alas ! 1 view the change with teai's. No more thou runn'st with frolic glee to meet me ; No more I hear thee carol thy gay song ; Thy soft blue eyes scarce now unclose to greet me, Gone the gay smiles which did to thee belong. 39 With wasting sickness thy young form must languish. All my fond care appears, alas, in vain ; None but a mother e'er can guess my anguish To see thee suffer, and not ease thy pain. Oh lovely health ! return, with aspect mild, And bless again my gentle suff'ring child. TO Oh ! give me back the peace of mind Of which thou'st robb'd my breast ; And tell me where I now can find The envied balm of rest. I've sought it in the lonely glade, And in the green-wood bow'r ; 40 I've sought it in calm ev'ning's sluulc, And morning's sunny hour. But, ah ! it is in vain I seek, For far the truant flies ; And sad regret bedews my cheek, And fills my breast with sighs. When first I knew thee, I was blest With happiness and joy ; Peace was my bosom's constant guest, No care could then annoy. Each morn I met thee with a smile, And thou'st that smile repaid ; Alas ! 'twas only to beguile The heart thou hast betray'd. 41 Together through the fields we rov'd At break of rosy day ; 'Twas then my youthful heart first lov'd. And all around look'd gay. 'Twas not thy beauty I ador'd, But, oh ! it was thy mind ; That mind, with seeming goodness stor'd. By ev'ry grace refin'd. Thou led'st me to my fav'rite bow'r. And there how oft we've sung ; And music gain'd a sweeter pow'r When falling from thy tongue. Tims hours and days in bliss flew by, I trusting still in thee, 4/2 And, wrapt in sweet security, Thy falsehood ne'er could see. But soon those hours of pleasure fled, And we were doom'd to part ; Oh ! how my faithful bosom bled ! How sorrow rack'd my heart ! How often, when bright Phoebus set In the empurpled west; The anguish'd sigh of fond regret Would rend my heaving breast ! For at that soft and quiet hour We've watch'd the day's decline. And seen on ev'ry shrub and flow'r The silver moon-beams shine. 43 Fond memory then has pictui-'d thee Adorn'd with ev'ry grace, Such as thou didst appear to me When first I saw thy face. But when again on that dear spot. From ev'ry sorrow free, Past hours of absence I forgot. And thought of nought but thee ; Thy smiles possess'd the magic pow'r To soothe my troubled breast, As the bright sun-beams cheer the flow'r The tempest has oppress'd. Years have pass'd on since first my soul Thy pow'rful influence own'dj 44 And montlis ;ind years may faster roll, And still no change be found : For on my breast and on my brain The fatal seal is set ; Which tells me love for thee is vain, Yet bids me not forget. E'en in the awful hour of death My thoughts on thee will dwell, And with my last faint trembling breath I'll sigh belov'd — farewell ! 45 LINES WRITTEN AFTER THE DEATH OF THE BEST OF MOTHERS, 1815. Mother awake ! thy daughter calls ! She bids thee ope thine eyes ! Alas ! thy mother hears thee not, In sleep she hath her child forgot, She cannot rise. Death has seiz'd her for his prey, He has snatch'd her breath away : No more her arms will press thee, She cannot now caress thee, Adeline. 4G And is my motlier dead ? Is licr pure spirit fled? Oh no ! it cannot be : She'd not have left me here To shed the bitter tear Of misery. Alas ! she cannot hear ! No more upon her ear Will sound her daughter's voice ; That voice which always made Her tender heart rejoice With gladness. Then hide mc from the light! Shroud me in darkest night, For all my peace is flown. 2 47 Oh ! wherefore should I live, What joy has life to give, Since she is gone ? And must the dreary tomb, In its unconscious womb Her gentle form enclose ? Then lay me by her side, And let the same grave hide The mother and the child, With all their woes. 48 ON ATTENDING THE SACRAMENT. Before Thy altar, Lord, I kneel, In penitence and pray'r ; Intending to renew the seal Of my baptism there. I come not to thy table, Lord, An uninvited guest ; For Thou hast call'd me to thy board, To share the holy feast. And though unworthy, as I am, Even of the crumbs that fall, Yet through the mercy of the Lamb, Who died for me, for all, 49 With rev'rence due, and humble heart, Ev'n I may seek Thy face ; And trust that 1 shall hence depart, Fill'd with redeeming grace. For Thou hast to the weary said, " Come, and I'll give thee rest :" Therefore I seek Thy heav'nly aid. With this assurance blest. That I may cheer my fainting soul, Oppress'd by grief and pain, By tasting of that " blessed Bowl Which never flow'd in vain." 50 STANZAS. At eve I wander'd down the vale, To breathe the mild refreshing air, Where lovers tell the tender tale To many a beauteous blushing fair. With sweet, yet sorrowing delight, 1 gaz'd upon the lovely scene ; All Nature clad in vestments bright, The blue sky clear, the air serene. Full many a beauteous blushing maid I saw as wand'ring down that vale ; But onward still my footsteps stray'd,- 1 told to none the tender tale. 51 My tlioughts were sad — for once my breast Had throbb'd with passion's wildest thrill, But now its idol is at rest — Then sure my heart might well be still. Oh ! she I lov'd was lovelier far Than coinage of the poet's brain ; A mild benignant beaming star, Which ne'er can shine on me again. Yet hold — for though from me she's torn, Her influence still is o'er me shed, Soon shall I cease her loss to mourn, Soon shall I seek her 'mongst the dead. hi .V 52 FRAGMENT. Calm is the air — the chaste moon sails In cloudless majesty along The blue expanse of heaven, Silvering with her modest beams The sleeping landscape-^nought is heard But the soft murmur of the rivulet, Meandering o'er its pebbly bed ; And now and then lone Philomela Pours her plaintive tale of sorrow On the dull ear of midnight. Light wing'd zephyr, as he passes Through yonder thick embowered grove, Bestows on ev'ry trembling leaf 53 A gentle kiss — I leave my sleepless couch, And wander forth to view the beauties Of the night, uninterrupted ; Reclined upon the green and daisied turf, Pleas'd I survey the lovely scene before me. A soft delight steals o'er my charmed senses. And soothes my bosom into peace. By the mild influence of surrounding Loveliness each wayward wish is husli'd, And my so lately ruffled breast Is calm as yonder rippling streamlet. 51 TO JULIA. And thou art false — then why should I In silent sorrow pine? Why should I grieve, and weep, and sigh, While others may be mine ? I give thee back thy vows again, And rid my heart of all its pain. I lov'd thee dearly — madly lov'd, While thou to me wert true ; But as thou hast unfaithful prov'd, At others' shrines I'll sue. There may be one as fair as thee, Who may, perchance, be true to me. 55 And thou, false fair, one day raay'st rue, Thy frail inconstancy, Some youth may prove to thee untrue, As thou hast prov'd to me. Then thou wilt wish me back again, And thou wilt wish — but wish in vain : For when thou sigh'st I will not hear, Or listen to thy cry, And when thou shed'st the bitter tear, Thou'lt find my eyes are dry ; And thou wilt wish thou ne'er had'st broke The vows which thou so oft hast spoke. Thy fatal beauty may deceive Some trusting heart, like mine, For /, too surely did believe, 5() Thy mind and form divine ; But ah ! thou art as false as fair, Light and inconstant as the air. Ev'n now I dare not see thy smiles. Or thy soft witchery brave, Lest I should trust thy magic wiles. And be again thy slave ; ril fly for ever from thy spell. Fair faithless Julia — Fare thee well! SONNET TO MY SLEEPING INFANT. How sweet thy sleep ! my gentle boy, Surely thy dreams are fraught with joy, For o'er thy features, all the while, Well pleas'd I see a placid smile ; And though thy soft blue eye is hid, Beneath its darkly fringed lid, Still I its brilliant glances trace, And each expression of thy face. Thy lovely cheeks like roses glow, Upon a bed of drifted snow ; Thy curling locks, as amber bright, Shade thy dear forehead's spotless white. Sleep, dearest ! sleep, in quiet slumber blest. While thy fond mother watches o'er thy rest. 58 TO . Oh ! let not those dear eyes o'erflow With sorrow's briny tears, Cease, cease this unavailing woe, And look to future years. There may for us be joys in store. Then prithee, dearest, weep no more. Oh ! let not that dear bosom heave With misery's anguish'd sigh ; Cease, cease, thus fruitlessly to grieve At our sad destiny. Look as thou didst in days of yore. And prithee, dearest, weep no more. 59 Come, lay thy head upon my breast, And sink in peaceful sleep ; And I will guard thy fev'rish rest, And love's fond vigil keep. Then sleep and dream thy woes are o'er, And prithee, dearest, weep no more. And when thou wakest let a smile O'er thy dear features play, And though it tarry but a while, I'll bless its cheering ray. Smile as thou did'st in days of yore, And prithee, dearest, weep no more. ()() TO A YOUNG LADY WHO INDULGED IN MELANCHOLY ON A TRIFLING OCCASION. Why dost thou round that beauteous brow Sad sorrow's chainlets love to twine ? Ah ! rather choose the rose's glow, And leave that dark-hued wreath for mine. Thou hast but sipp'd of sorrow's cup, Whilst I, alas ! have drank it up. Cheer thee, sweet maid, and let not woe O'ercloud thy features heavenly bright. And may'st thou ne'er be doom'd to know Misfortune's storm, or misery's blight ! Oh ! never may that bitter draught By thy pure lips be deeply quaff'd. 61 Peace will again her reign resume, Again thou'lt lead the festive throng ; Smiles will that lovely face illume. Again thou'lt join the dance and song. Then pull not thou the cypress bough. For ah ! what cause for grief hast thou? Wealth, love, and friendship thee await, And ev'ry dear delight of youth, Compare thy lot with my sad fate, And listen to the voice of truth : " Be thankful for the blessings given. And leave the rest to all-dircctinj:j heaven. fi2 FLOWER GIRL'S SONG. Now Spring her first beauties discloses, Sweet flow'rets, sweet flow'rets, I cry ; Pray, who'll buy a bunch of primroses, Who'll buy them, who'll buy them, who'll buy ? Primroses, primroses, primroses. With other sweet flowers I cry ; Two bunches a penny primroses, Who'll buy my sweet flowers — who'll buy ? Fair snow-drops I cull late and early, Fair snow-drops, fair snow-drops, I cry ; And violets with dew-drops all pearly, Who'll buy them, who'll buy them, who'll buy ? Fair snow-drops I cull late and early, And bunches of primroses cry ; C>3 And violets with dew-drops all pearly, Who'll buy them, who'll huy them, who'll buy ? Sweet-brier for beau-pots so pretty, 'Twas gather'd by times in the morn ; Come buy some, fair ladies in pity, But oh ! pray beware of its thorn. Two bunches a penny, primroses, With sweet-scented brier, I cry ; And snow-drops and violets for poses. Who'll buy them, who'll buy them, who'll buy ? W^ho'll buy ? who'll buy ? Who'll buy my sweet flowers ? Who'll buy my sweet flowers — who'll buy ? The music of the above Song, by the same author, will shortly he published, dedicated, by permission, to the Honourable Isabella S. Jcrningham. 2. Gl WRITTEN IN THE VERY SMALL ALBUM OF A WIDOWED FRIEND. Small is thy book, and small my verse must be, For small my talent is for poesy ; But such as 'tis I willingly Devote it unto thee. I wish thee, Nancy, happier years Than thou of late hast had ; Then dry thy unavailing tears, And do not look so sad. I know the grave has clos'd above Thy greatest earthly joy ; But thou hast still some left to love, Thy darling girl and boy. May they to thee true comforts prove, And, as thy years increase, May the Almighty power above Bless thee with health and peace ! STANZAS FOR MUSIC. Alas ! my love, we're doom'd to sever; The fates decree it so : Yet I will think of thee for ever, For thee my teats will flow. And when thou'rt sailing on the ocean. If the rude storm should rise, GCy For thee I'll bend in meek devotion To Ilim who rules the skies. And when the wind is softly blowing, And smoothly rolls the sea. My tears will constantly be flowing, Because thou'rt far from me. Then go no more in search of treasure Upon the treach'rous sea, For India's wealth would yield no pleasure, Were I depriv'd of thee. ADDRESS TO THE EVENING STAR. When gazing on the queen of night, I turn to view thy milder hght, Thou beauteous evening star ; Oh ! bear upon thy silv'ry beam, The tears that from my eye-Hds stream, To him who is afar. For he possesses all my heart, And though, alas ! we're doom'd to part, From him it ne'er will stray ; Oh! hid him sometimes waste a thought On her whose breast with anguish fraught Sighs her sad life away. F 2 68 Ilesper, thy aid I now implore, Oh ! give me him wliom I adore. And ease my aching breast ; I ask not gaudy ghttering wealtli, Grant me but love, content, and health, And I shall then be blest. TO A BEAUTIFUL AND AMIABLE GIRL, ON SEEING HER VERY PLAINLY ATTIRED rOU A HALL. Say, dost thou think, my lovely maid, To captivate without the aid Of glitt'ring dress, or ornament ? With looks as fair and innocent, As the young dove, when first it tries To plume its soft wing for the skies. That form, array'd in spotless white, Will glide adown the dance as light As sportive swallow on the wing, In the first days of balmy spring ; The tiny foot in sandall'd band, The white glove shamed by whiter hand. The shaded bosom's heaving snow. The cheek that mocks the rose leaf's glow. The coral lip, the teeth of pearl. The glossy ringlet's waving curl, Are surer far to win the heart. Than all the lures of fashion's art. Oh ! let some costly jewel deck The iv'ry of thy swan-like neck. 70 Braid flowers and gems in each bright tress, To hide its native loveliness, And veil the beauties of thy mind With taste, and wit, and sense refin'd. Go then — and may the laughing hours For ever strew thy path with flowers ; And may thy life be as this night, With pleasure's expectation bright ; And ever may hope's fairy spell Be cast on thee — sweet maid, farewell ! SONG. Faintly from yonder mountain dim Floats the convent's vesper hymn, And over forests, hills, and dells, How sweetly sound the evening bells! And tenderly, in yonder vale. Sings the plaintive nightingale. Then lady, lady fair, awake. Upon the smooth and placid lake The silver moon-beams gently rest. Like child upon a mother's breast ; Come forth and shew thy beauty's light. Where all like thee is fair and bright. 72 STANZAS WRITTEN ON A BliAUTIFUL SUMMEr's NIOIIT WHICH BROUGHT BACK THE RECOLLECTION Ol' HAPl'IER HOURS. Dear happy days of innocent delight. To which, alas! I've bade a long adieu ; At this soft melancholy hour of night Fond memory brings you to my mental view. Now not a murmur breaks the calm serene, Nature is hush'd in quiet tranquil sleep. Save one who loves the soul-enchanting scene. And wakes to count her sorrows and to weep. Pale Cynthia's beams now silver ev'ry leaf. The crystal dew-drops glitter on each spray, 73 How soothing to the bosom torn with grief! ^^ hich shuns the tumuUs of the garish day. Tlie gentle rivulet meanders by, Scarce do the winds disturb its glassy breast ; The zephyrs softly through the branches sigh, As though they fear'd to break creation's rest. But my sad breast no peaceful calm can know, Depriv'd of all that made these scenes most dear ; A prey to grief and unavailing woe, I heave the bitter sigh, and shed the tear. For on such nights, when blest with those I lov'd. Each passing hour to fond affection giv'n. Through yonder grove in converse sweet we rov'd ; But now, alas ! they're gone from me to heav'n. 74 SONNET. TO MY ELDEST DAUGHTER. My first-born darling, come to my embrace, And let me gaze again upon thy face ! It is a sweet remembrancer of other years, When pleasm-e's sun unclouded by the haze Of disappointment rude, rose in one blaze Of bright effulgence — soon to set in tears ! Thou art a gentle record of the past. Of those blest days which were too bright to last. Oh my loved child ! thou art indeed to me A sweet drop in my cup of bitterness ; For as I gaze in fondness upon thee, Hope bids me look for future happiness. — 75 And now with this blest thought I will my griefs assuage, That thou with duteous care wilt soothe my droop- ing age. STANZAS. The dew-drops gem the blushing rose, All nature's hush'd in sleep, Whilst T, a stranger to repose, Must wake, alas ! to weep. The silver moon shines bright and clear, And gilds each bush and tree ; To me the scene is sweetly dear. It soothes my misery. 76 Now memory wakes and loves to trace Dear hours of faded bliss, My parents' tender fond embrace, My lover's raptur'd kiss. But yonder is my parents' grave, Beneath that sod they sleep; But, ah ! my Henry, good and brave. Lies cold beneath the deep. And o'er him rolls the billowy surge, And ocean's boist'rous swell ; The sea-gulls scream his only dirge. The wind his parting knell. I'll wander to the earthy bed. Where my dear parents lie ; On their cold bosoms rest my head, Breathe one short pray'r and die. SONNET. OCCASIONED BY FINDING A BIRD's NEST BLOWN DOWN BY THE HIGH WIND, APRIL 1829. Alas, poor bird ! and has the boist'rous wind Desti-oy'd the object of thy anxious care, And with rude blast, unpitying and unkind, Scatter'd the fragments to the angry air ; And driven thee a houseless wanderer forth To brave the inclement tempests of the north ? Poor little bird ! like thee I built on high A fairy structure, with bright hopes array 'd ; Those hopes, alas ! were quickly doom'd to die, And the gay fabric in the dust was laid; For o'er it blew the infuriate whirlwinds rude Of cutting cold neglect, and base ingratitude. Thus, hapless bird! while I thy fate bemoan, I weep for woes, alas ! too like my own. 78 TO A YOUNG FRIEND, WHO, WITH SOME OTHERS AND MYSELF, HAD REPRE- SENTED CHARACTERS IN MISS PORTEr's BEAUTIFUE NOVEL OF ' THE SCOTTISH CHIEFS.' My dear Isabella ! when from you I parted, And left my lov'd friends and their pleasant abode, From my eyes the sad tears of regret often started, As onward with Edwin I silently rode. Each scene of past happiness rose in succession, Each hour which I've spent in sweet converse with you ; Oh ! what would I give to be now in possession Of the bliss which is vanish'd for ever from view. 79 I those evenings recallVl, wlien with Murray we wander'd, To see the fair moon rise the poplars behind ; And on those lov'd scenes how fondly I ponder'd, And wafted them many a sigh on the wind. And oh ! my sweet girl, when kind Edwin departed, I seem'd as though lost to each feeling of bliss ; To my pillow at night I retir'd heavy hearted. For my lips were not seal'd by my Isabel's kiss. Where now are those chiefs, of fair Scotland the glory ? Oh ! where noble Wallace and Bruce do ye stray ? Return ye brave heroes renowned in story ; There are hearts that are sad when ye both are away. 80 Oh ! often, my Isabel, think of thy Helen, And the hours of past pleasin*e in fancy review ; Her thoughts upon thee, love, will often be dwelling. But now she must sigh out a long long adieu. TO MY SECOND CHILD, ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF HER BIRTH, FEB. 15tH, 1828. On my dear Thirza's natal day, '* Sweets to the sweet " I fain would say ; And hop'd a garland fair to twine, To deck my little Valentine. And early flowers I thought to bring, Meet offering to my queen of spring ; 2 81 But surly Winter's come again, With all his dark and stormy tratfi, And has each bud of promise nipp'd, And each fair plant of verdure stripp'd ; And now alas ! I seek in vain, For Floras simple vernal train. For scarce a flow'ret can be found, Which is not frozen to the ground ; A k\v sweet buds I still can see, With these Fll form a wreath for thee. Fair primrose, earliest child of spring, Like butterfly with saffron wing ; And crocus with i(s golden cup, And snow-drop never looking up. 82 And polyanthus rich of hue, With modest violet's eye of blue ; These, these are all that I can find, For thee a fairy wreath to bind. These flowers, dear child, so fair, so sweet. Of thy dear self are emblems meet ; They tell us of the coming spring, Of summer's bloom and blossoming. And thy young life foretells for me. Full many a happy day with thee ; Thou may'st from each a lesson learn, And do not thou that lesson spurn. The primrose. Flora's first-born child, Like hope with aspect fair and mild ; 8J Sweet hope ! which pierces thro' death's gloom, And bids us look beyond the tomb. The snow-drop, cloth'd in purest white, Like truth array'd in robes of light; And that sweet flower in green leaves set. The humble dark blue violet, Bending its meek and modest form. Beneath stern winter's pelting storm. Like virtue shrinking from the strife And ills which vex this busy life. And seeking some sequester'd vale, Where softly blows the western gale ; The other flowers of richer hue. Will likewise tell a lesson true. (■ Q 84 Tliey shew thee beauty's quick decay, How transient is her brightest day; Dear child ! let virtue be thy guide, Be modest worth thy only pride. So sliall thy years with peace be crown'd, And each succeeding liappier found ; And when, at length, thou'rt call'd away. To realms of everlasting day, Thy spirit with the pure and Idlest, Shall live with God in endless rest ; Thus, dearest Thyrza, shall I see All my fond prayers fulfill'd for thee. So LINES WRITTEN ON THE ALBUM CARD OF A YOUNG LADY, BELONGING TO THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS, WHO HAD REPEATEDLY SAID — " THOU ART NOT A FRIEND." Come, Emma, listen to my lay, And to my verse attend ; And tell me why thou still do'st say, That I am not a friend? Now I deny the imputation. And unto thee would show. That I deserve that appellation, Much more than that oi' foe. 86 For I do wish thee joys as sweet, As e'er on earth were given ; And trust that thou and I shall meet As fsi\thfu\fj-iemls in heaven. SONNET XO A TRIiMROSE BLOOMING ON A BARREN BANK EARLY IN THE MONTH OF JANUARY, 1829. Sweet modest flower, which bloom'stamid the waste Of winter's desolation, why in such haste To put thy beauties forth, and rashly brave The bitter pelting of the furious storm Which now beats o'er thee ? — rather should'st thou crave A shelter for thy meek and beauteous form, 87 Within the shade of some sequester'd vale, Where Philomela pours her plaintive tale. And the mild breezes of the balmy west Would bear sweet odours from thy fragrant breast. But now stern winter, with his hand unkind, Will scatter all thy beauties to the wind, And I shall grieve, and heave the pitying sigh, That loveliness, like thine, so soon should die. WRITTEN IN THE ELEGANT ALBUM OF MISS R. WHO PARTICULARLY DLSIRliD I WOULD WHITE SOME LINES FOB HER. Come, gentle muse, my pen inspire. For by " particular desire," Some lines 1 am to write : 8S Oh ! could I rhyme but half as well As Ilemans, or as L. E. L *. The task would then be light. For then 'twould be within my pow'r To while away the tedious hour ; But thus to write is shocking : Instead of tagging odes and sonnets, I'd better make my children's bonnets, And mend my husband's stocking. Thus, lady fair, you plainly see, That poetry's no work for me ; You therefore cannot blame, * The fair Authoress of the Iniprovisatiite, &c signs herself " L.E.L." 81) If now, instead of verse sublime, I end this dull insipid rhyme, By writing but — my name. A. M. Nealds. WRITTE!^ IN WHITE-HOUSE WOOD, THE FAVOURITE WALK OF THE AUTHOR. Bright glows the west, the setting sun Now softly sinks behind the trees. The busy toil of day is done, And peasants court the sweets of ease. I wander now in pensive mood, In solitude an hour to spend, In the dark mazes of the wood, And think upon my absent friend. f)0 There Spring puts forth her first-born flow'rs, The vi'let and the primrose fair, The blue-bell there her odour pours, And cv'ry early flow'r is tliere. Beneath my favorite tree reclin'd, I listen to the thrushes' song, As gently blows the western wind, The lovely verdant boughs among. The partridge now retires to rest, Within the copse's thickest shades ; The ring-doves seek their happy nest, No noisy hum the calm invades. Mild Hesper sheds her beams so pale. To light the lev'ret on her way, 91 As playful sporting thro' the vale, She hails the hour of closing day. Again I gaze enraptur'u round On the sweet scene before my view, And rising from the mossy ground, To friendship's haunts I bid adieu. SONNET. How sweet to walk at morning hour, On grassy hill, or woodland glade. Or when bright Phoebus shews his pow'r. To seek the grove's embowering shade ! But sweeter 'tis by Cynthia's ray, To wander on the sea-beat shore, When all the noisy hum of day Is hush'd, and winds forget to roar. Then does the meditative mind Look up with faith's awaken'd eye, And, all her earth-born thoughts resign'd, Holds converse with the Deity ; And the rapt spirit longs at once to soar, Where pain and grief can never wound it more. WRITTEN TO AN AMIABLE aUAKEKESS ON HER REaUESTING ME TO WRITE A FEW LINES IN HER ALBUM. Say, dost thou wish, my worthy Friend, I for thy book should write ? 93 If so, most willingly I'll send To thee my humble mite. And if I could thy thoughts engage When I am far away, With pleasure I would fill a page Within thy Album gay. But sickness and domestic care My mind now occupy, And scarce a moment can I spare For soothing poesy. But soon the balmy breathing spring Will deck the hill and grove. And health and joy I trust will bring To the dear friends I love. 94 And when ftiir summer shall difflise O'er all her gladd'ning spell, I'll seek again my vvand'ring muse ; Till then, good Friend — farewell. WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A YOUNG LADY VERY FOND OF ANGLING, ON HEARING SITE WAS RECEIVING THE ADDRESSES OF MR. BROOKS. How is't that you, who were so fond Of rods, and lines, and hooks. Have left off fishing in the pond. To walk beside the " Brooks?" 2 95 TO MY HUSBAND. Sad are my days, and sad each lonely night, For thou art far away ; Then what can give my soul delight ; What make my spirit gay? I know no joy when thou'rt afar, No bliss thou canst not share ; Thou art to me the pilot star, Through this dark world of care. Oh ! were I with thee, could I be A wand'rer by thy side ; I'd deem myself more blest than she The proudest monarch's bride. 96 I think of thee at early dawn, When first I ope mine eye ; When first the rosy finger'd morn Draws night's dark curtain by. And when the glorious sun rides high At noontide's glowing hour, I grieve to think thou art not nigh To seek our shady bow'r. And when the ev'ning shadows fly Along the hedgerows green, Again I heave the bitter sigh For joys that once have been. And when the moon, in vestments pale, Sheds her soft liglit around, f)7 I seek tlie lone and darksome vale, Where silence reigns profound. But not the moon, in vestments pale, Or sun, in splendour bright, Or shady bow'r, or darksome vale, Can yield my soul delight : Nor the soft tints of fading eve, Or morning's rosy beam. Cheer the sad heart that's doom'd to grieve, Or dry dark sorrow's stream. At night, weigh'd down with woe and care, T bend to God the knee. Kiss our dear babes, and breathe a prayer For happiness and thee. II 98 ON THE DEATH OF Yes ! yes ! I caught her parting breath, I clos'd her once bright beaming eye ; And, standing by her bed of death, I learnt a lesson — how to die. No sigh reliev'd my o'ercharg'd breast, No kindly tear roll'd down my cheek ; My lips to her cold lips were prest, I felt the grief which cannot speak. 91) vSONNET. How long the shortest separation seems Unto the tender and the gentle heart From those it loves — oh ! it is grief to part Ev'n for a week ; and the full bosom deems That period eternity, and mourns Unceasingly, till the lov'd one returns. But, oh ! how fruitless is the hope — how vain To think that on this earth we can retain At our own will, the valued friends we love ! For ev'ry day, alas ! to us must prove That separations, long, and sad, must come. That one by one we sink into the tomb. Why should we look for happiness ? — on earth 'Tis found no( ; but to heav'n it owes its birth. H 2 100 MORNING ADDRESS TO MY CHILDREN. Children, awake ! nor slumb'iing Waste the fresh morn away ; Arise ! and to your heav'nly King Your early tribute pay. Take lesson from the birds of air, And cattle of the field ; And unto God, in humble prayer. Your early offering yield. Thank him for all his watchful care. Through the long darksome night ; For the return of morning fair, And blessings of the light. 101 Go forth, and view each op'ning flow'r, On hill and valley look ; And see, in all, your Maker's pow^'r, And read in nature's book. And hear the lowing of the herd. As they go forth to graze ; And listen to each little bird Singing its song of praise. Then do not ye, like sluggards lie, But up, and grateful prove Unto the gracious God on high. For all his bounteous love. 10;;; SONNET. Oh lovely Spring ! too late, 8 But thou liast rcach'd tliat happy shore, Where God to thee will say — " Live with the bless'd for evermore In realms of perfect day." For thou hast laid thy treasure where, N or moth can fret, or robber dare Break in and steal away : And thou a rich reward wilt gain. For earthly suffering, care, and pain. Thank heav'n ! I watch'd thy dying bed, And did my grief control, That I might lift thy drooping head, And soothe thy parting soul. And though thou'lt ne'er return to me, Yet I may hope to come to thee ; And this shall me console, 1^9 That when my pilgi'image of hfe is o'er. We then may meet in heav'n to part no more. TO A CHESTNUT TREE, PLANTED IN COMMEMORATION OF THE BIRTH OF THE AUTHORESS. While other poets strike the lyre, And deeds of fame rehearse, Far other themes my muse inspire, And animate ray verse. I'll sing a song in praise of thee. My own co-eval chestnut tree ! I've watch'd thy leafy green expand. With the young spring's gay birth, K 130 When with soft showers and zephyrs bland, She wakes the sleeping earth. And ever hast thou been to me A sight of beauty — chestnut tree ! I've mark'd thy spiral blossoms wav'd By summer's ardent breath. And oft a shelter have I crav'd Thy spreading boughs beneath ; When birds in sweetest melody Were singing in them — chestnut tree ! Humming around thee with delight, I've heard the bees at noon ; And at the silent hour of night, Beheld the silver moon Shed her soft beams with joy o'er thee My own, my much lov'd chestnut tree ! In childhood's days, in frohc sport, Around thy trunk I've play'd, And riper years have seen me court Thy deep umbrageous shade ; And now my children run in glee Under thy branches— chestnut tree ! Swiftly has pass'd my life's gay spring, But thine again wull bloom ; My summer too is on the wing. And mould'ring in the tomb Are those dear friends, who lov'd, like me, To mark thy growth, my chestnut tree ! K 2 132 And often o'er thy beauteous form. The wint'ry wind has blown. And I dark sorrow's pelting storm Too oft, alas ! have known. Autunni has shook thy fruit from thee. Yet still thou bloom'st, dear chestnut tree ! Oh tree of beauty 1 soon I leave The village of our birth, And yet for this I do not grieve, For in their kindred earth Are laid the friends most dear to me. Therefore I quit it — chestnut tree ! And never may the vulgar herd Beneath thy calm shade rest, 1t>l.) oo But there may many a tuneful bird In safety build its nest, And hatch its downy progeny Among thy boughs, sweet chestnut tree ! And be thy smooth and velvet rind By no rude hand defac'd ; And may the dull unletter'd hind, With no fine feelings grac'd, Ne'er find a peaceful shade in thee, My own, my beauteous chestnut tree ! But should a being, gentle, mild, Of noble mind possest, Sweet poesy's enraptur'd child, Beneath thy foliage rest, 134 Wave thy green boughs in extacy O'er such an one, my chestnut tree ! Yet ere I quit this once lov'd spot, Affection's hand shall mark The simple words, " forget me not," Upon thy yielding bark. And some perchance will think of me When gazing on my chestnut tree. 135 WRITTEN ON THE 23rd of JUNE, 1829, THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF A FAVOURITE NIECE. Assist me, gentle spirit of the lyre, With thy sweet power to form the votive lay, And with affection fond my verse inspire, To celebrate dear Anna's natal day. To her young fancy all the world looks fair. And every object brilliant to her view ; Oh ! never may the blighting hand of care, Cast o'er her life a shade of darker hue. 136 And ever may my Anna's footsteps tread, The happy paths of calm domestic peace ; May love and friendship o'er her ever shed, Pleasures which may with every year increase! FAREWELL TO THE LYRE. Not yet again in tuneful numbers, Shall I, sweet lyre, awake thy strings ; For worldly care, alas ! encumbers The lightness of my spirit's wings. Yes, thou hast sooth'd my hour of sorrow. And brighten'd ev'n my brightest day. 137 For I from thee could ever borrow A balm to chase my griefs away. But, gentle lyre, though woes oppress me, Though sorrowing thoughts my peace destroy, Still my sad heart shall ever bless thee, And owe to thee its gleam of joy. And though awhile by me forsaken. Thou must in silence sleep, my lyre, I'll strive again thy chords to waken, With all their bright poetic fire. And though, dear lyre, we now must sever. Yet in Medina's lovely bow'rs Again my fingers shall endeavour To wreathe thy strings with fancy's flow'rs. 138 Now, gentle lyre, in tears of sadness, I quit thy soul enchanting spell, With hope to meet again in gladness. Sweet lyre of beauty, fare thee well ! WRITTEN ON THE ARRIVAL OF A NEWLY MARRIED PAIR AT THE RESIDENCE OF THE BRIDEGROOm's FATHER. Heard you that shout which rent the air ? 'Twas 's tenantry assembled all. To greet with glad acclaim the wedded pair, And welcome them to their ancestral hall. Within a window of that ancient dome Sat 's gentle matron : she had come From the expecting group below, And when her soft eye first did see The train approach, she bent the knee In praise to Him who did bestow 139 So many blessings on her — and did rise With grateful feelings and o'erflowing eyes. But quickly dried her moisten'd cheek, And with glad footsteps went to seek Her much lov'd lord, and to him did impart Those tidings which rejoiced a father's heart. Now, banishing all pomp and state. E'en at the entrance they await The happy pair — beside them stand Their lovely daughters hand in hand, Eager to clasp in their encircling arms Their new-made sister, rich in youthful charms. See the fond father, as his son appears, Leading his blushing bride with quicken'd pace. Turn round in haste to hide his starting tears ; Such tears are unto manhood no disgrace. But shew a heart with the best feelings rife To raise the joys and soothe the cares of life. 140 And now the joyous welcomers depart, Peace and contentment reigning amongst all, With deep affection seated in the heart, For each beloved inmate of the hall : Who blest with ample means by bounteous Provi- dence, To those who stand in need their generous gifts dispense With lib'ral hands — Oh ! well deserving they Of the fond tributes which their people pay ; Long, long may they enjoy each dear domestic bliss, For seldom 'mongst the great are witness'd scenes like this. FINIS. FRINTEO BY H. GII.BEJIT, St. John's Square. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-50ot-7,'54 (5990)444 Til ^ LIi>^''Aj?y LOS ANQELES UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 'ii I'ii mil M '111' illiiliiilllilnilliilii Hill AA 000 381 189 o PR 5103 N2UA17 1829