If vanity provoke the generous deed â€”
Mean is the gift, and small will be its meed ;
Though to a * martyr's glory I aspire,
And seek my triumphs in the torturing fire,
Firm and undaunted to my latest breath
Brave the slow flame, and court the lingVing death ;
If thy sweet virtues from my soul depart.
Thy Christian love be foreign from my heart,
He best can tell, who all our thoughts surveys.
How "* vain the boast, the profit, and the praise.
4. Tis thine the raging passions to control,
To calm, to strengthen, and confirm the soul,
Teach " slighted worth with patience to sustain
The pow'rful man's neglect, the fool's disdain,
Th' ungrateful friend's revolt ; or keener pang
(Keen as the bearded steel, or serpent's fang,)
That waits (too oft, alas!) the perjur'd vow.
And lost aftectionc's cold and scornful brow :
^^envieth not ; Charity ^*vauntelh not itself; is not puffed up.
Verse 5. â€” Doth^^ not behave itself unseemly^ ^^ seeketh not
her own, is not easily provoked, ^*thinketh no evil.
Verse 6. â€” Rejoiceth'^ not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the
The " silent eloquence of kindness meek
Beams from thine eyes, and mantles in thy cheek ;
From " envy free and '* pride's o'erbearing sway
Thou tak'st thy mild and inoffensive way ;
5 . Grace '' in thy gestures and thy looks is seen ;
Gentle thy words, and courteous is thy mien,
Thou '" scorn'st to cast the proud indignant frown
On other's merits, or to boast thine own,
Oe'r'^ anger, hatred, or revenge to brood.
Record " the evil, and forget the good ;
6. Or aught, that can thy neighbour's peace destroy,
Make*' the base subject of thy barbarous joy ;
If just the censure that affects his fame,
'Tis thine to pity, not increase his shame ;
If false the charge, thy soul can know no rest,
Till * truth appear, and heal his wounded breast :
Ferse 7. â€” Beareth*' all things^ **believeth all things^ hopeth^
all things^ **endureth all things.
Ferse 8. â€” Charity never faileth : but whether there be pro-
phecies^^ they shall fail ; whether there be tongues ^^ they
shall cease ; whether there be knowledge^^^ it shall vanish
Verse 9, â€” For we *" know in part^ and we ^ prophesy in part.
7. Forbearing" all, and trusting still to find
Some virtues 'mid the failings of mankind,
Thou o'er their faults canst draw the friendly veil,
The" better part believe, the worse conceal,
Still *^ hope that time their frailties may remove.
And ** wait the hour with patience and with love.
8. Doctrines shall cease, and " inspiration fail,
The **gift of languages no more prevail,
Knowledge *^ shall fade away ; but thou shalt bloom.
Thy graces flourish in the life to come.
9. Ah ! what are all the boasted pow'rs of man
But emblems of his own contracted span?
In " part alone he knows, in part is given
Wisdom" to teach, and lead the way to heaven^
Ferse 10. â€” But when that which is^'' perfect is come, then"
thai which is in part '* shall be done away.
10. To heav'n's blest regions/" where perfection reigns,
And knowledge absolute her throne maintains ;
There when the soul, in search of purer day,
Loos'd from mortahty's impris'ning clay
Shall swifter than the forked lightning dart,
His " vain attainments shall like shades depart,
And vision infinite of truths divine
That far beyond his weak conception shine,
Drown'* the faint glimmerings of his mental rays
In one all-pow'rful and immortal blaze.
So when the Night around th' etherial fields
In clouded state her ebon sceptre wields,
Millions of orbs amid the starry zone
With glittering gems adorn her sable throne ;
But when, the world's bright lamp, the golden sun
Bursts from the East his glorious course to run
Lost in th' effulgence of his radiant fire
Those feeble ministers of Light expire.
Ferse 11. â€” fVhen I was" a child, I spake as a child, I un-
derstood ^* as a child, I thought as a child ; but when " /
became a man, I put away childish things.
Verse 12,. â€” For ^^ now we see through a glass darkly; hut
1 1 . In life's " first spring, in childhood's playful age,
What trifles charm, what idle cares engage !
I How '* narrow, how confus'd the sense appears,
Till reason dawn, and light our riper years !
Tis then" with judgment and discretion fraught
We slight the objects of our infant thought ;
Chang'd is each passion, each desire, and aim,
No more our actions, or our words the same ;
12. Yet greater still the change, that shall translate
Man from his earthly to his heavenly state.
From '"partial Knowledge shall his soul redeem.
And clear from doubts his intellectual beam,
Cast the dark glass away that dims his sight,
And gild his prospect with celestial Light,
Bear him beyond the follies, and the strife,
And painful pleasures of this sinful life.
then^^ face to face: now I know in part ; but'' then shall
I know even as also I am known.
Verse IS. â€” And now abideth^^ Faith^ Hope^ Charity^ these
three ;^ but the greatest of these is Charity,
Oh glorious change ! that shall such light display,*
And ope one perfect and eternal day !
Where" in th' Almighty's presence we shall shine,
See, and adore his attributes divine,
His pow'r, his wisdom, and his mercy own,
And "Him shall know as we ourselves are known!
13. Whilst in these gloomy vales of life we stray,
Hope'' cheers our souls, and Faith directs our way ;
But when to yon bright realms of joy we soar,
Faith shall expire, and Hope be known no more :
Faith shall be lost in Certainty's abyss,
And Hope absorb'd in everlasting Bliss ;
But*Â° Thee, Thou fairest Grace, nor death, nor doom,
Nor ever-rolling ages shall consume,
* For with thee is the Well of Life, and in thy Light shall we see Light.
Psalm XXX vi. v. 9-
Thou with congenial spirits mix'd above
Shall fill all Heaven with Harmony and Love,
In splendor seen, and full perfection known
Thy station fix by God's eternal throne ;
There with compassion all our errors scan,
And plead the cause of frail and sinful Man.
TO THE READER.
1 HIS mile piece is founded upon a circumslance which really
happened in the course of the late very severe winter^ in which
many persons were frozen to death; amongst whom was the
unfortunate young Woman who is the subject of the following
lines: she was the only daughter of a reputable farmer , and
is said to have been possessed of great beauty^ and many ex-
cellent qualities ; but was unhappily seduced under a promise
of marriage^ by an officer in the army, and afterwards aban-
doned by him ; and in following him to London met with her
untimely death. The Author has attempted to put her melan-
choly story into a poetical, but simple dress, and shall think
himself very happy should he prove successful in his endea-
vours to set innocence upon its guards and to promote the
cause of virtue.
Bath, April, 1795.
A POETICAL TALE.
Kk.EEN was the blast, and bleak the morn,
When Lucy took her way,
To seek the wretch, whose perjur'd vows
Had led her youth astray :
A warrior he, though little fam'd
For warlike trophies won,
Who well might boast of triumphs gain*d
O'er many a maid undone :
Of honour nice, his gaming debts
Full punctually he paid,
His valour he in duels oft
And midnight broils display 'd :
340 THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
In British arms, but not, I deem,
With heart of British mould,
For British hearts are firm and true,
And tender as they're bold :
If such, he ne'er, in social guise,
Poor Lucy to decoy.
Had shard her parents' friendly board.
And stol'n their only joy :
Had scorn'd to pledge the marriage vow,
And basely steal away,
While all compos'd in slumbers sweet
The injur'd damsel lay :
Alas i she ne'er suspected ill,
Who never ill design'd.
And void of art, ne'er knew the guile
Of man's degenerate mind :
As spotless as the blooming flower,
Which long unheeded grew.
She little reck'd her beauty's power,
Or e'er its dangers knew :
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER. 341
With ev'ry Christian virtue grac'd,
She serv'd in early youth
Her God, her parents, and her friends,
With duty, love, and truth :
Blest in the harmless, homely joys
The rural plains afford.
She liv'd by ev'ry maid belov'd.
By ev'ry swain ador'd,
Who, when at each revolving May
They cull'd the vernal grove.
Were proud to raise the garland gay
Her taper fingers wove :
To her in winter's hour, oppress'd
With cold and hunger sore,
The aged peasants would repair,
And bless her friendly door ;
At her request, the dairy oft
And farmer's stack supplied
That aid, the guardians of the poor
Their pressing wants denied :
342 THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
And when the stack or dairy fail'd,
She'd bring her Httle store,
And give her mite, and heave a sigh,
And wish that Uttle more.
O ! days of innocence and peace !
O ! nights of sweet repose,
From you those balmy blessings flow
Which virtue only knows !
Such were the days that Lucy knew,
Such harmless nights as these
Calm'd ev'ry scene, made labour light,
And ev'ry object please :
But ah ! farewell those blissful scenes
Which midst its native plains
Fond childhood views with partial eyes,
And age itself retains ;
Scenes which in sweet remembrance give
That sadly pleasing joy.
Not all the busy cares of life.
Or rolling years destroy ;
THE FARMERS DAUGHTER. 34S
The spot where erst her parents glad
Her infant sports survey 'd,
And where so late with pride they view'd
Their sweet unblemish'd maid ;
Farewell her youthful joys ; the dance,
The roundelay, and glee.
By self-taught lads and lasses sung
Beneath her favourite tree :
The Sunday walk, the village bells
That charm'd the silent glen,
The warbling birds poor Lucy ne'er
Shall taste those joys again !
By passions torn, which ne'er till now
Her gentle nature knew,
With many a home-felt pang she bad
Her native plains adieu ;
That city gay the fair one sought
With heart oppress'd with woe,
To which the fair with woful hearts
Are seldom wont to go,
344 THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
To London bent her hasty steps
In evil hour, to prove
Her base deceiver's plighted vows,
And claim his lawful love :
Ne'er thought her image from his soul
So quickly could depart,
But tears and soft persuasive sighs
Might still recall his heart :
Vain hope ! his love, his plighted vows
Exchang'd for oaths profane.
He to his gambling haunts had flown,
And cast the desp'rate main,
Unmindful of a tender wife.
Who erst like Lucy fair
To him her ample portion gave.
And snatch'd him from despair,
But now neglected and forlorn
Her lonely vigils kept,
While round her knees her pensive babes
Stood wond'ring why she wept.
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER. 345
Mean time her eager anxious way
From morning's dawning light,
Poor Lucy held, till length ning shades
Announced th* approaching night:
When lo ! her devious steps she took,
The beaten road unknown,
Where frozen show'rs had o'er the ground
Their fleecy mantle thrown ;
She who so late at close of day,
Beside the cheerful blaze,
Was wont to ply the needle's toil.
And chant her blithsome lays,
At that chill hour, bewilder'd stood,
Nor aught survey'd around
But snow-clad hills, and lonely streams
In icy fetters bound :
*' Oh heaven ! she cry'd, is this a dream,
" Or vision of despair,
" Or do I live, my virtue fled,
'^ A living death to bear?
346 THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
" Shameless I left my parents' house,
" And shame forbad return,
*' Though sure they oft on Lucy calFd,
" For Lucy still they mourn ;
*' For me they sigh'd the live -long day,
'* 'Till moaning in their bed,
" For me, ungrateful wretch, for me
" Their mingled tears they shed :
" How could I dare to them unknown
** His letters to receive,
" These letters base, that made me first
" His artful tale believe ?
" These tokens of his broken faith
" Which in my breast I wore
" So near my heart, have kiss'd so oft,
" Shall ne'er upbraid me more :
" Be all remembrance of my wrongs
'* Each distant trace remov'd,
" That I so wicked and disgrac'd,
" And he so faithless prov'd :
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER. 347
'* This bonnet gay, his treach'rous gift,
" Shall like my hair be torn,
" This kerchief, once so nice and fine,
â€¢' Now frozen and forlorn
" I work'd with so much cost and care
" To dight my wedding day,
" This love-knot too, for him design'd,
" Shall to the winds away
" Oh ! could my wounded spirit bring
" The perjur'd traitor here,
" I'd rend the heart, and -flatt'ring tongue
" Of him I held so dear
" Kind Heav'n forbid â€” if thou ordain'st
" We must for ever part,
" Oh ! may I ne'er such malice bear,
" Such hatred in my heart â€”
" No â€” let my kind forgiveness plead
*' His cause at Mercy's seat
" And may he still, where'er he goes
" With ev'ry blessing meet !
348 THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.
** 'Tis cold 'tis very cold- methinks
*' In pity to my grief,
" Sweet slumbers o'er my senses steal,
" I'll seek their kind relief."
Alas ! she dropp'd, life's genial warmth
Congeal'd at ev'ry pore â€”
Death's iron hand her eyelids clos'd â€”
She slept to wake no more.
On a Cenotaph erected by Sir William Draper, K. B, in his
Garden at Clifton near Bristol.
This Cenotaph is sacred
to the Memory
of those departed Warriors,
of the SEVENTY-NINTH REGIMENT,
by whose dehberate Valour,
steady disciphne, and perseverance,
The formidable and impetuous efforts
of the French Land forces in Asia
were first withstood, and repulsed ;
Our Commerce preserved ;
Our Settlements rescued from impending destruction.
The ever memorable defence of Madrass,
The decisive Battle of Wandewash,
Twelve strong and important Fortresses,
Argot, Pondicuerry, Manilla,
I 352 ]
The Philippine Islands,
are witnesses of their Victories,
that would have done lionor
even to the Greek and Roman Name
in the most illustrious times of Antiquity,
and well deserve to be transmitted down
to latest Posterity,
that future Generations may hear
and imitate (for they cannot exceed)
Their Glorious Exploits.
Ins crip lion on the opposite side of the Cenotaph.
Siste gradum, si qua est Britonum tibi cura, Viator,
Siste gradum, vacuo recolas inscripta Sepulchro
Tristia fata Virum, quos bellicus ardor Eoum
Proh dolor! baud unquam redituros misit ad orbem;
Nee tibi sit lugere pudor, si forte tuorum
Nomina nota legas, sed ciim terraque marique
Invictos Heroum animos, et facta revolves,
(Si patriae te tangat amor, si fama Britannum)
Parce triumphales lacrymis aspergere lauros â€”
[ 355 ]
Quin si AsiiE penetrare sinus atque ultima Gangis
Parjclere claustra pares, iNDOsque lacessere bello,
Ex His ViRTUTEM DISCAS, VERUMQUE LABOREM,
FORTUNAM EX ALUS.
On a Lady who died after a lingering Illness^ and had ear-
nestly prayed that her only Child might not survive her:
The Child died a short time after its Mother,
N. B. An Angel is represented in basso-relievo, holding up a Child to its
Mother^ and is supposed to speak the following lines.
Ow E E T Saint ! on thee when pining sickness prey*d,
Thy beauty canker'd, and thy youth decay 'd,
*Twas thine with patience meek, to Heav'n rebign'd.
With Faith that arm'd, and Hope that cheer'd thy mind,
Death's Hng'ring stroke undaunted to sustain
And spare thy pitying friend's and husband's pain,
Studious thy heartfelt anguish to disguise
From sympathizing Love's enquiring eyes !
[ 354 ]
*Tis mine to crown thy wish, reward thy worth,
To wean each fond, each yearning thought from earth ;
And bring this much lov'd object of thy care,
Thy joys to perfect, and thy Heaven to share.^ â€”
TO A FRIEND,
On the Loss of an amiable Daughter.
1 RUE, she was sweet, and lovely in thine eyes,
Like some fair flower that blooms awhile, and dies :
Yet O forbear thy heart-felt pangs to shew
In outward pageantry, and pomp of woe :
Say, shouldst thou bid the Parian marble rise,
To tell where innocence and beauty lies,
Aught could it sooth His grief, ill-fated youth !
To whose fond vows she pledg'd her virgin truth ?
Thy generous boon tn him * best serves to prove
Thy manly sorrow, and paternal love,
* A genteel and handsome fortune intended for the young lady on her
marriage, which her father immediately on her decease presented to the
gentleman to whom she was betrothed.
[ 355 ]
Firmer than polish'd brass, or sculptured stone
Shall long preserve her Memory, and thine own
On the Occasion of the Duke of Northumberland's being
detained at Bath by a return of his Disorder.
W o R N with the raging gout's consuming fires.
The good Northumberland to Bath retires :
There Health awhile her flattering respite brings
From healing medicines, and salubrious springs ;
But soon as homeward he directs his way
Th' imperious foe returns, and bids him stay.
How hard, alas ! that those who truly know
What social pleasures from his converse flow,
Who feel his virtues, and so rarely find
Candour and truth with courtly manners join'd.
On terms like these his presence must obtain,
And owe their pleasure to his grief and pain !
Inscribed to the memory of Dr. Samuel Johnson, occasioned
by reading Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes^ Mr. Boswell's Tour
to the Hebrides^ 6-0^ &c,
O ! Johnson, learned, venerable shade,
What havock of thy fame hath friendship made,
What childish trophies round thy manly bust,
What noisome weeds are planted in thy dust !
Yet sleep in peace â€” and though to me unknown
(Save from the musick of thy learn'd renown)
Accept this verse, if aught my verse can boast
To sooth the anguish of thy injured Ghost.
What though thy friends, thy dearest friends, have tried,
To blaze those faults, which e'en thy foes would hide,
Though like a gem by some rude artist set,
We mark thy flaws, thy brilliancy forget,
Yet rest assured, when all their triumph's o'er,
Thy friends and enemies are known no more,
[ 357 ]
When time shall mould the sprightly works of Thrale,
And turn to vinegar her choicest ale,
When Boswell, of his birth and friendships proud,
Mac Lean, Mac Sweyn, Mac Cromheil, and Mac Cloud,
Indignant round the savoury steak shall fry,
Or light Mundungus in the Isle of Sky,
When Pindar* too, Soame Jennyngs,+ and myself.
Shall lie, meet victims, on a grocer's shelf:
Still shalt ihou last, and o'er thy hallow'd tomb.
Fair Science weep, and bays perennial bloom.
O PATRiiE dilecte Pater, cum foemina frustra
Armata petiit Te malesana manu !
Te Regem plausu excipimus, sceptroque Britannum
Praesentem agnoscent saecla futura Deum :
Quin fruere, in longum precor, et gratare peric*lo,
Cui sic nota Dei Gratia, Gentis Amor.
â€¢ Peter Pindar. Vide Town Eclogues ; Bossy, Piozzi, &c. &c. &c.
f Vide Epitapli on Dr. Johnson^ written by this celebrated Author.
[ 358 ]
DEO OPT. MAX.
C P. Audore,
O Pater! humance sorles et munera genii
Omnipotente datur cui tribuisse manu,
Da mihi, da patria quodcunque sit utile, vita
Tempore, da propricE quod sit amicitia;
Qua nihil humani, nihil aut mihi desit honesti,
JSTil sine amore tui, vel pielate siet*
Ingenii quodcunque dedil tua gratia menti
Id, Pater, in laudes prodeat omne tuas;
Sit mihi, sit vitce conjux dilecta superstes,
Sit felix vario prolis amore parens.
Idem optent sperentque, et lapso tempore vita,
Mecum una in gremio sint Patris atque Dei,
Pura resurgamus comites ad guadia cceli^
Gaudia, terrenus qua dare nescit amor:
Hoc satis est or are Deum, qui donat et aujert,
JVec placet ulterius solicitare Patrem :
Ille regit vitceque vices et tempora mortis,
Ille suumjusto cuique rependet opus :
JVec sim ita vivendi cupidus, quam vivere rede,
Et plenos meritce laudis habere dies,
Quandocunque rapax mihi venerit hora sepulchri
Fac modoforti animo,Jac patiente Jeram
[ 559 ]
The Same^ translated at the Request of the Widow of
r ARENT supreme! whose all discerning mind
Appoints the various portions of mankind,
On me, my country, and on all, bestow
Such needful gifts as from thy wisdom flow :
\ Fix'd in thy love, to me the joys impart
Which virtuous Friendship gives the feeling heart :
I Such talents as to me thy grace conveys
Be all repaid in gratitude and praise :
O may my much lov'd wife survive to share
Her children's love, and they her fost'ring care :
One mind be theirs, with mutual wishes blest,
Till in the bosom of their God they rest,
And wake with me iii yon bright realms above,
To purer joys, and more than earthly love.
Enough to ask â€” thy wise paternal care
Knows when to grant and when deny the prayer,
By thee our life is given, our death decreed,
From thee the just shall reap their promis'd meed.
Yet give me to prefer the good man's praise
To fading honours, or to length of days,
At death's dread summons be prepar'd to go,
With patience wait, nor lear th' impending blow.
[ 360 ]
On the Recovery of a young Lady by the use of the
W I T H pining sickness worn, her beauty fled,
Hither my Charlotte's trembling steps I led ;
Meek and resign'd, from this salubrious well
She drank, and on the cup a blessing fell !
From Macrobius, Saturn. II. 7.
Ut Hedera serpens vires arboreas necat,
Ita me vetustas amplexu annorum enecat,
Sepulchri similis nihil nisi nomen retineo.
Ex Laberii actoris in scend prologo.
Translation of the above^
A, D. 1194,
As circling ivy works the tree's decay,
Time's cold embraces steal my strength away,
Till like an empty tomb, my aged frame
Tells only what I was, and bears my name.
[ 361 I
In PromptUi to a Lady enquiring the reason why Beards
were not worn as informer times,
Sapientem pascere barbam. Hor.
1 o brush the cheeks of Ladies fair,
With genuine charms o'erspread,
Their sapient beards with mickle care
Our wise forefathers fed.
But since our modern Ladies take
Such pains to paint their faces,
What havock would such brushes make
Amidst the loves and graces !
In FromptUi written in 1779.
You say, my Friend, that every day
Your company forsaking,
In quest of news I haste away,
The Morning Post to take in :
But if nor news nor sense it boast,
Which all the world agree in,
I don't take in the Morning Post,
The Morning Post takes me in.
[ 362 ]
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1795,
Occasioned by the late scarcity of Grain, and inscribed to the
Author s three Periwigs, Malus, Pejor, and Pessimus.
Aliquisque MALoyiÂ«V usus in illo.
A.H me ! full sorely doth it rend my heart,
O ! Pessimus, my veteran friend, to view
Thy time-worn front, and curls of yellow hue,
And think, how soon unpowder'd we must part !
And much it grieves me that thy brothers twain,
Malus and Pejor (both the offspring fair
Of Orchard's* plastic hand) thy fate must share,
Nor graceful wave their mealy locks again !
Yet doth my soul a secret solace find,
(Such solace as the wise and patient know.
Who taste the blessings which from evils flow ;)
That thou to Priapeaj^ head consign'd
Shalt scare voracious crows â€” and all MÂ«-flour'd
Protect the grain thy hungry caul devour'd.
* Mr, Orchard, peruke-maker in Bath.
[ 363 ]
Tu Setina quidem nobis, Sfc.
You press me to drink your Champayri, and Tokay
By which you have poison'd four wives, as they say :
I ne'er can beheve such a scandalous tale,
â€” So here's your good health, in a glass of your â€” ale.
Oh the following Inscription upon the JVew Pump at
" Fons novus
" Saluti sacrum"
( By a learned Lady.)
Fons novus, et sacer hie neutro sua mascula jungiti
Monne hose famineo propria suntgeneriP
On the Execution of Mr. Coyghleyfor High Treason.
Some wept, you say, when Coyghley was no more !
I wept y because he was not hang'd before.
[ ^64 ]
Ad Gentem GalUcam Germani apud Anglos commoranlis
O GENUS heroum, peperit quos simiavulpi,
Et satura humano nutrivit sanguine tigris,
Inter tot turpes, occiso Rege, triumphos,
Seu vos cum Batavis scelerata ad praelia cogit
LiBERTAs; seu vos ranarum immensa cupido,
Et ducibus desueta diu femoralia Gallis,
Ampla movent spolia, et vestris addenda trophaeis !
Clunibus impransi nudis, precor, arma parumper
Sistite, et huic saltem furias avertite sceptro: