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descrintion of human nature, and will
come forward in the renovated vigor
of the Gospe),

The power which the Plougboy's flute
has over the cow, see the illustration^ is
often observed, and drawn to let
rural habits be seen in their simplicity.
It also teaches us a good moral.
Amidst flocks Moses saw the burning
bush; but ho was angered by man at
the watera of strife.



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THE PLOUGHBOY.



Low gable roof, and all sides brown

The cottage by the moor
Has a charming: site out from town,

And t'le inmates were four.

There Jerome and Roland were born,
And Ellen, their sister, *

Whose cradle rockers, so much worn,
Gouid be rocked no faster.

Well Jerome, Roland and Ellen too,

In their so bumble life,
To love each other sweetly know,

Unused to noisy strife.

Jerome they say had bright blue eyes

As sister Ellen had,
And no neighbor ever denies

Eolafid was a good lad.

Their grandmother useful, though old,

As people used to talk,
To those children good stories told

At homo or in a walk.



8 TUB FL0U/;H!3'u

Jillea in wonder would say why!

Roland inteat said hash'
But Jerome. g»i7, sportive and sljr

Would give thom all a puili.

For that push, thoagh well you l<Iasne,
Wliea woae to love of trutb,

His cheeks we^ro often rod with shame
For the folly of his yoa.li.

Freely his grandmother forgave
That he soiled her new dress;

Since so well he learned to bv;h iV3,
She could love him rio less.

But Ellen and Rolland (rained praise;

Though charity hides faults,
While life seems one devious maze,

Virtue always exalts.

So romantic readers beware,
If fine coxcombs you meet,

Their worth will no longer endure,
Than loose chaff in the street.

The young and old, both ead and gay

Forget ray rustici dress —
While you from vanity my lay

Leads to thoughts that will bles?.

Strangers before, as I ask ii,

Be our lot as it may,
Let U3 fill truth's golden casket

With gems found on oar way.

Though a brown cottage was chosen,

One costly would as well.
Amidst more pompous devotion,

The same great truths tell.



THE PLOUGllBOY. 9



Around that cottage ail winds blew,

Throiigb many fleetting years,
Came bright sunshine, or rain, or dew

Life wore smiles, or shed tears.
Lo,at day dawn, what joys resound.

Amidst dewy briglitiress, .

Over green fields, midst groves around

Birds carol in gladness.
Down tbe deep well the bucket goes,

Tumbling, rattling, splashing,
Thon cool and pure it overliows

For good morning washing-.
The bonny washed, smiling (aces.

How heart-cheerful they sJnnBl
Fit with other raoniing graces

To swell^e poet> I'uie,
Humble pfeyer with grateCiil song

Glowing with faith arise.
That Heaven bless them all day long,

Making thcuj truly wise.
Jsew milk, foaming in ample pans,

Makes tbe good dairy smil.e.
Or poured into 8W©et,ceady cans

Is Bold in little while.

Look now upon the farmer's fare.
Can your hearts spurn the Joy?

That tiany merfthaats gladly »baf«»
Eke men whom they employ.

Forget each vain, perplexing osre,

Give tbe heart its rights,
Go luxuriate with me where

Arg found rural delights



10 *THE PLOUGHBOYv

Poetry bre.itlw every where,
In all [&i\ds foad to dvvel),

if men will in its spirit share,
Noiv brake tho sacred spell.

Wheni t'le heart it^ at hamts
Leaving the world of fretful strife,

Whoa the muse is welcome.
Tell us of children's gaileU-^ss play

Around the warm bemth stona;
Sportive ebildbood, gay, happy day

Joys more s^veet life has none
So stay as grandam knitting socks

Where daaies are us^d t > sit,
Columbines gathered among rock.-

Are brought all dripping we-.
Again where birds joy vocal lualc.^

Around their woody ho.n-;
Before school, across niaory bi'a<ca

Children for pleasure roaai.
Where violets on the hill-side

Wave to the winds that blow,
The fair to be Floughboy's brule

Could healthy dimples sho'.v.

The Ploughboy upon his good nag
Between the green corn rows,

Whistles loud if the pony lag,
Until he faster goes.

A useful peer, say, is he not?

Without an iron heal,
One of the princes in the cot»

Free,come woe or bright weaK



^S^:



THE PLOUGHBOY. 1\

He never heeds the despot's voice
Amidst New England's hills;

If God and nature aid his choice,
He all his foes repels.

Lo now, where that good farmer hoes,

The father with the lad,
Those thrifty, mealy shenangoes

Will make the country glad.

Our produce, sings robin red -breast,

As on the high elm tree
The eggs are laid, snug in thfi nest,

For what you soon will see.

Then joyous let all men work so,
Drive, drive your wants away;

The seed that you in good faith sow
Will cheer the barvest-day.

But picuph, dig imd rake ever more,
You \n\l lack aoniething jet:

Ail good clsBr Villi forgako yoxir deoj\
Jf you BO Iea?L-Kg get

Amoivs Yuml sesnes, :.o, dlng-dorg)

Oft echoing ErousQj,
And gii'ls a«d boya hasten alon^^

Inoited by ihe sound.

On ihoy cDme from barn, cot aa-u iicdd,

Sleepy o:aj-\s from tb<8ir bed;
Compelled to learr*, the dunces yield,
To sefcool tic Viord is said.

'JBmIs ©f pro«!Jse bloorr.ing fcr what?

For mm. ©r leaven?
Fond parents, -with bjoh <Ii2*y fjj^iightj

Your ansvjer ho given.



12 THE PLOUGHBOY.

I , m il - - I

fa swelling waves tlie life streams Howj

Youth on the surgy flood,
Along times shore to wreck may go, •
Or moorings safe and good.

Tottering old mej\ unto youth

Said coming was our now:
Studied what does glow blazing truth,

Good and ill ail hearts know.

Some children taste but little sweet

That mingles in their lot;
Their share of sorrow soon they meet,

Their father is a sot.

As Ellen went happy to 8'*hool,
She saw drunk by the wall

A man that learned to break the rule,
Nor forsooth was that all;

Hungry children at home were sad;

The cow for rum was sold,
So they no milk for breakfast had,

Nor half their waats are told.

Truth sweetest is when most opposed
Those children soon did know;

As one pleasure path had been closed,
Heaven others could show.

Oh! where are our joys they could say?

Sun, moon and stars on high,
All brightly shining on our way.
Are they there in the sky?

Such father is there earth around?

Whose children forlorn cry,
He sleeping drunk upon the ground

To aid them <omes not nish.



THE FLOUGBOY. 15

And yet, said they, God is tbe same,

And kind angels are nigh,
Who in our poverty and ehame,

Will all our wants suppjyp^

JElien as good angel, would haste.

And ,from her little store,
(jive whatjbut for such drunkard's waste,

They would have had before.

ller bosom swelled to go and bless

Tbe hungry with some food;
Nor did shs learn, that day, the less,

Her motives were so good.

As sb<i would be the Ploughboy's Bride,

To him she quickly went.
That on his pony slie miglu ride,

Much aid besides he senf.

Jlj© p»fty knew who held tlie rein,

Around the woody hill,
Then in the lone, cool, shady lane,

He trotted to the mill,

TLe Miller too was kjnd ai heart,

And aiding her good m\\
To fiU the mealbag be gave part,

Then drove she from the miiL

Lo, now sad scenes for pitiy view,

Hungry children did cry;
But thn kind maid they quickly knew;

She v;as tbe angel nigh.

Tho pony seemed so glad to tnd,

Gbso by the door he cau^e,
Wblle v?j»iiingfor the ger/Jemaid

The clii'drcn found him fam .



i£^ ^HE rLOUGHBOY

He is just like our good old luv*
On which 1 role to mil',

But now is gone with full meal bag,
Said poor Jerry Lotsill.

Yes and gone is the tarns red coTf|

No milk for the dairj^^
No corn fields can our Jerry hoc,

Said his sister Mary,

Ah! do not cry, said young Jerry,
We will live for all this;

I can weed for farmer Verry,
So sis, here is a kiss.

Mary spoke sorrow o.i her cheeks,
Hunger makes a pale face.

Ah, Jerry, she said, in a few weeks
We must leave this place«

No, no, sisjtcr; hear now ray ^Im,
Kind Ellen's bag of meal,

If we do all that now we can,
Will make U3 stronger feel.

But Jerry, my shoes aive worn nut,
My Sunday dress U tore;

What is father thinking about?
He used to love us more.

But Mary, we will drink no rum,

Then as we become old,
If we love God, let trouble come,

He will bless seven fold.

As Ellen heard the talk of sorrow,

She kindly to them said
My dears think not of the morrow-

God gives us daily bread



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THE PLOUGHBOY 1 9

Jerry replied just so we say,

Talking of that prayer^
As so hungry we often may,

We do oot quite despair.

The Bible angels all have wings,

But you, our angel, none;
Yet, as you come with so good tblngs^

\Ve thtok you act like one.

Jerry, mv !ad, that matters not,

I .thinking you might need,
While yourfachar is such a sot,

Came the hungry to feed

Oh where is father? let us know.

If drunk he come to night,
He will beat, and torment us so

Amidst his horrid fight.

As I saw him sleeping by the wall,

Near by the pasture gate,
I brought some good food for you all,

So good by! It is late.

Then on her »ony Ellec sat.

Yet those cnildren would stay,
Upon his bewl gently to pat.

Until she drove away.

As homeward round tbs hill she drove,

About the aattiog sun,
Her thoughts with gorgeous tints above

Blended in unison.

To heaven she breathed this prayer,

God bless children forlorn,
The Lotsills all from ruin spare,

From drunkard's woes and scora.



Till-: ploOgttboy.



Then 'riciiest Mutenotes Roating clear

From a neigboring grove.
Were watted tunefal to her ear,

And 80 sbe aiowly drove.

Tbus by (he notes that well she knew
The Plouj»bboy charmed his maid;

And soon he appeared, plain to vie^v
Beyond the open glade.

So often by lake, glen or grove,

If virtue he retain,
Ihe cotter's life is one for lov9»

Content with honest gain.

The Saviour there prefered to dw*jH,
Where fishers drew their net;

At Bethany, at Jacob's well,
Kound lake Gennesaret.

The desert parts he vocal made,

But not with noisy strife;
Not long alone, men sought bis aid.

Sought him, who gave them life.

So let with village quiet home
The gospel blend its charoia,

In good New England, as we roam
Among rich thriving farms.

Let Churches to heaven point the spire

Up to that resting place,
Where hearts ,in faith, joyous aspire

To find rich, needful grace.

Such tall spire saw the rural maid

Amidst the ether bluOj
Not far beyond the grass-green glade

Was her good cottage too-



Frooi early (lawn her path we traced,

It w«3 a pafb of peaciB,
Her hopes on Crod were firmly placed,

Such hopes with joy increase.

Again briglit rosy dawn behold

The bluabing sky along,
Sacred day, when for truth is told

Doctrines, preached right or wrong.

From plain to hill, from bill t& grove,

The bolls r'mi^ out around
Those full, silver tones that men love,

Chiminji their echo sound.

If sounds uiore spirit fraught there are,

That heaven will retain^
They are of bells, when still is care,

Pealing over the plain.

Through lift? that sound will never die,
Though long-ago 'twas beard^

When for past pleasures we may sigh
It seeme liUe living word.

Before life drags its load of care,
Music, so like angel's speech,

Calling to praise and to prayer,
The inmost soul should roach,

To aid the good Pastor's voice,

Among his people heard,
Pleading oh, make the wisest choice,

Nor let it be defered,

Pray lyturgic, or not formal,
As Men may think the best,

Gospel heralds will plead for all,
And point the road to rest.



24 THE PLQUGHBOY.

Such Pastors m^n indeed have seeu;

VVhlla their n;raves in the earth
The gras3 clotho^ in annual green,

b^onil hearts ciheriah their worth.

Rllen, Jerome, aadRoland too

See near such relic dust;
A scene so delij»htfal to view,

Good hearts will iove I trust.

Not more than , say, ten steps away,
See that white marble stone—

Tis where their parent's relics lay —
They go to muse each one.

vyUUe life is gay, sad or complex,
Ao4 the grave speaks so plain.

Men their all grasping hearts do vex
To make more needless gain.

So friends, to catch the strain of joy

Bounding along my line,
Let not avarice so annoy,

To wisdom *s work incline.
Yea reader, sure as being last,

Thine heart shall prolong
Joys, all so pure, so sweet, so vast,

Awoke to swell my songj
For 80 I wish, sure thus I will

Sweet, winning poesy give.
It saored truth our hearts will fill,

We shall together live-
Live with you? some no doubt will ask.

Yes indeed, I reply;
For that I began this good task,

iTor that I will applyc



1^ .=^::





THE PLOUGHBOY. 27



No man lives to himself a day

In cave, glen or homestead,
On mount wet in clouds, or in ocean-spfiayj

His heart some where is led.

Jerome's, Roland's, and Ellen's too
Were hearts friendship can mould;

So 1 will, by them, show to you
What is not bought, nor sold.

If still in death is ShakspQare*8 tonguei

Power vigorous breaths;
Genius, that in him glowing sung,

Lives not in mere book leaves.

If God such power will bestow

To him all praise I give;
Since you know this most sacred yow,

You know for what I live.

But if, betore this work be done,

Because 'the flesh is weak',
My earthly race be wholly run,

My spirit shall be meek.

Truth by me or by others said —

Every soul needs grace —
Shiloh for me the ransom paid,

That promise I embrace.

Then speed we on the^ Plougboy's way

His life make joy with you.
While Jerome bears eloquent sway,

Koland on ocean blue.

Wide id the v^orld for the rover,
Full, fall swell the life sails;

Smooth or rough seas sail ye over.
One good Power prevails.



18 THE PLOUGHBOY.

- - — ^

Txom out our cradles far and •wide

Power tbat placed us ttere,
Will to fond hearts be constant guide,
UnceaBing i» his care.

But wait awhile, ere we may rove,

Ere we wake fame to fly,
Let us dwell around the green grove,

Soon I will tell you viby.

Look up there high above the spire,

Lo, that lark on the win^,
How it soars on through air higher,

There its glad scng to sing.

Now look down by that moss brown wiill,

See its nest in the cleft.
Can it gee those young ones so small?

Or fear to be bereft?

I^pok, look, it downward swiftly flies

To yonder hill for food,
And quickened by their chirpping cries.

Keturns to feed its brood.

So should ye from sorrows of earth,
Soar by faith's wing on high,

Seeking to gain etwnal worth,
Yet true to all friends nigh.

The village Church, the still Lord's day

Will for such ardor blend,
They open one safe, blissful way,

That will most peaceful end.*

Then from thence for each dear homq

The cotters part again;
But if some from virtue will roam,

Truth mcf'ty \hom there anai;>




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THE PLOUGHBOY. 31



Ah, still religion's warning voice,

Quench her ardent spirit,
What reraains is not worth your choice,

Void of bliss or merit.

Yet think not costly fanes alone,

And the lonp; sombre aisle,
Where swells the organ's solemn tone,

Gains heaven's loving smile.

Faith has temples of lofty dome.

Music from truth's full choir,
LijjUt dispelling dark clouds of gloom,

Hopes that joyous aspire.

When bigot zeal runs blindly mad,

Blazing hijzh to consume,
'Tis there fellowship may be had,

Where loving hearts commune.
Where two or three, if in Christ's name,

Whose hopes in him begin,
Find God confers on them the same

As on all hating sin.
But in the twilight's lovely glow,

With thoughts all so pleasant.
One happy scene now let me show

With the cottage tenant.
Home at holy twilight see there,

Youth and age at leisure.
When is forgot all worldly care

In the purest pleasure.

'Vh^ Plou-ihboy tares his voice for praise,

miei) (loth not delay
With her brother:, «he notes to raise.

In the glad cotters' lay.



32 THE PLOUGHBOY.

The sonji is music from the heart,
The Ploughboy loves so well,

Risbt cheerily he sing* his part,
His sacred joys to tell.

Praise, constant praise fill oar cottage,

Join harmonious song,
Let youih make choral joy with age,

To God ihe strain prolong.

Where life be^an, the altar raise,

Love*!? oblation laid there,
Renewed shall be through all our dayg,

Our sacred, joyous care.

Peace, plenty and good rosy health.

Cheering our honest toil.
Bo our constant, fall source of wealth,

Who cultivate the soil.

Though mv own be these woids of ?ong,

Cottage life to pjortray.
tt surelv 13 not vain, or wrong

To write so humble lay










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Ttiiu L'iv) JGtl-'OY.

A ruV'», FtHT 8t(JOND,

COMPOSED, II.LL.STKATED
& PU15I.ISI1KD SOLELY

BY REV. WILLIAM COOK.

AUTHOR OF OLIVE GROVE, ETC
SALEM.

1855.



TRAXSLATION OF LATIN 37
OX PAGE 42.

But faitb, hi all things doth clearly see God,
Oar Lord to praise join earth, sky and sea.

NOTES.

Cry aloud good Elijah said. 1 Kings* 18. 27.
If she fill not the golden towl. Eccl. 12 C.
Edwards, the gooc» Divine.
Rev, Jonatha!i Kd'Viiids, A, M, Author of Trea-
tise onKeligious A (lections.
And grace for grace bestow, John. 1. 16.
No naiad's bri^rht spatlding fountain.

This line sl»o\vs that the enchantress has not
perverted our literaturn, and may also remind
as of the merely sparkling style, void of true, in-
trinsic forctt. Natp.re needs not such embellish-
ments Niagara's spray increaseth 'the rainbow
beauties, & the <;]ectric fluid, which anon flashes
athwart the celestial dome. Now let sparkling
refer to the agitation of water. The ocean has at
night, as it were, a fire crested wave, as the ship
sails gallantly through the phosphorescent display.
The God of all these sublime phenomena gaya
VlS Son to die for onr salvation.



38 FliEFACiti.

HuraaQ lite is also the life of poetry-
Everyman, God willing, may tread the
earth for the same )oy or sorrow as those
of his capacity and education, a contin-
ual undulation of being, from everlasting
to when time shall be no more.

The waves of passion in war's bloody
contention, may rise with mo8f terr'fic
force, dashing its victims on the shores
of eternity — anon the flow may bo un-
ruffled, & aid the poet to instruct, and a-
muse by continuous Stincidental events.
'J'he Kir^t Part of The Ploughboy
portraying some sfthcso. life scenes, has
gone to the strife ot hearts and minds.

The author sought no ujore app'ause,
than has been aw.irded. The Wits of
the age have not broke my ploughshare,
f. One writer, enriching his prose with
the charms of my verse, gave the world
a melodrame. hailing with delight Mhe
great national enic'. He luxuriates in his
description as the sun among the clouds
of an Italian sky.Peaoe be to him.
Anon op -itrfamed the Aurora-borealia
of Maine, wrting on mid heaven that
the Ploughboy ia 'the Pot.'m of the nine-
teenth century'

The l/jst reviewer i.ot knowing bow
the author received his title of Rev. — ©r-
dained him in true poetic style; a3 'the
author of a great poem'. Heaven bless
the rite, and him that of!ici«ted.



The author waa ordained iu Cbrist'a
Church Boston, by the late Rt. Rev.Al-
exander V Griswold. D. D. the third day
of May, 1837. He has ofllciated regu-
larly in all 'good fidelity' to the gospel,
in charity for all ,who believe in our
Lord, and avoid persecution.

The religion ol the Puritans
sustained them in founding the New En-
gland States; hence ,a8 poetry is bt-aute-
ou3 only in the spotless robes of truth,
this poem honors those, who in Divine
Providence were enabled to make ready
fields so rich in classic fruits and (lowers.
If faults must be portniyed, they will be
in those parts of the robe wliere i hey are
inwove. The purest robes of heaven

would be spotted, if they could be worn
in this sinful world.

The scene is opened flmidst the
beauties of night, thus introducing traits
of characttfT which ure seen only amidst
household retirement: where the moon
beams talk iu our imagination — where
good Peggy moves in no useles!». though
humble sphere. Such a maid furn'shed
the money to publish in this oountry the
tract called the Swear^.'r s Pr lyer.

Every patriot must be interested in the
history ol' V etron, who, for his country,
having forced himself from his home, his
son meets him for jmother blessing, then
after manv vear.-^ ret'.irn^ for' orn.



42 PKKFACK.

Let the Uioral of this episode dispose the
heart to cherish every noble, every chris-
tian emotion. Though, as every-where big-
otry and persecution maculated the vest-
ments of charity; many noble, heroic traite
incite us to perfect the national character
our Father? strove to form. A\ ho so baseV
as to mar a fabric that contains so durable
and precious stones from other structures,
that adorn Zion's everlasting bill A truth
here commands respect, not merely for
those denominated Puritans; but for their
ootemporary aids. As the immortal poet
must be beauteous only in the amaranthine
flowers ol truth, let impartial history give
the Deeded evidence on this point.
Sed fides— In omnibus rebus —

Videt Deum;
Mare, terra et cselum laudant

Nostrum Dominum.
These latin hexameters are composed by
the author of the Ploughboy, with hopes oi
stimulating youth to act worthy oi their
country in every virtue. Never fetter any
part of manhood. Let the union flag of free-
dom cheer as the breeze on which it floats.
Salem. Febraarv, 1855.



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THE PLOUOHBOY;



45



The moon poures all her charms to nieht

Un h II an.l plain around,
So friendacorae learn wha/ rich delight

U with the Ploughboy found.
Ye^ come see his rural homestead,

The farm and farmer's fare,
Where he for virtue was well bred.

His parent's fondest care.
Hark, hear that distant boo^o.oo.

As walking by moon light,
He whistle-!, instructing carlo

To be still, and not bite.
Then coming round the woody hill,

Among dark coppice shade,
In nocternal strains the whip-poor-will.

Gives bitn a sereoade.



U THE PLOUGHBOV.

His pony looks over the wall

For bisiDHster't) fond pat,
When he is at home, carlo and all

Show their pleasure there-at
Th' wakeful turkeys loudly goble,

Cows lick their hairy hides,
Each brute creature, as it is able,

la his kindness confides.
Around the impaitial moon beam,

Although truly sublime,
Shines on many a sleeper's dream,

On virtue, and on crime.
Forms seem to move in varied shade,

Yet still lay in repose,
Beauteous harmoney is made

That still night only shows.
This scene wins the heart into mood,

As rays through fane window
Pour their sombre with brighter floO(),

Sacred power to show;
Or like to sportive, ready wit.

That well adorns its place;
As is oft seen in eacred writ.

From whi^h sin flies apace.
Cry aloud, good Elijah said,

Baal on a journey,
Or else asleep, witholds his aid,

Which for gods is funny.
So ye who, to sin by moon-light,

Forget God fills that place,
You forewarning, I wish good night,

And much restraining grace-



THE VLOV^nUiOY. 47

No, no, good Irieiid, remain longer,

'Tis a most charming night —
See, renard round barn-} aid oornisr

Runs rougisU uut ot s];;(>t.
The fox acts like temptation,

Like motives in our hearts.
Like some cherished inclination

Toward treacherous arts.
But bark, bear now that dulcet pound

From the farmhouse window.
Where the Ploughboy bis tlute has found,

Just for one tune or so.
The music old Peppy awaktie,

Who, happy in sweet rest,
Says what melody that flute makes,

Midst my dream of the blest.
But it is to please her dear pet,

And so to let him play, v.

No more she dreams, without regret,

Until she hears him say
^eggy, kind Peggy, do you hear?

She ready his love to win.
Replies yes, tell your wish, my dear.

'Tis let my friend come in.'
A strange introduction forsooth,

But as life goes along.
There are some funny things in youth,

Never let there be wrong.
A soft couch the kind maid prepares,

And then in gentle tone.
Asks will you please to come up staire?

There he is left alone.



48 THE PT.OUGHBOi.

Home-spun, on a larmer's soft bed,

See both sheets an(] cuunterpain,
The feathers from geese Peggy ied,

Blankets the sh«eptold*8 gain.
The mats upon the clean washed floor

Good taste and skill display,


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Online LibraryWilliam CookThe euclea: → online text (page 3 of 8)