My Father was a good and pious man,
An honest man by honest parents bred,
And I believe that, soon as I began
To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,
And in his hearing there my prayers I said:
And afterwards, by my good father taught,
I read, and loved the books in which I read d;
For books in every neighbouring house I sought,
And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.
Can I forget what charms did once adorn
My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,
And rose, and lily, for the sabbath morn?
The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;
The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;
My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime;
The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride?
The staff I yet remember which upbore
The bending body of my active Sire;
His seat beneath the honey'd sycamore
Where the bees humm'd, and chair by winter fire;
When market-morning came, the neat attire
With which, though bent on haste, myself I deck'd;
My watchful dog, whose starts of furious ire,
When stranger pass'd, so often I have check'd;
Thered-breast known for years, which at my casement peck'd.
The suns of twenty summers danced along, -
Ah! little mark'd how fast they roll'd away:
But, through severe mischance, and cruel wrong,
My father's substance fell into decay;
We toil'd, and struggled hoping for a day
When Fortune should put on a kinder look;
But vain were wishes efforts vain as they :
He from his old hereditary nook
Must part, the summons came, - our final leave we took.
It was indeed a miserable hour
When from the last hill-top, my sire survey'd,
Peering above the trees, the steeple tower
That on his marriage day sweet music made!
Till then, he hoped his bones might there be laid,
Close by my mother in their native bowers;
Bidding me trust in God, he stood and pray'd, —
I could not pray-through tears that fell in showers,
Glimmer'd our dear-loved home, alas! no longer ours!
There was a youth whom I had loved so long,
That when I loved him not I cannot say.
Mid the green mountains many a thoughtless song
We two had sung, like gladsome birds in May.
When we began to tire of childish play,
We seem'd still more and more to prize each other;
We talk'd of marriage and our marriage day;
And I in truth did love him like a brother,
For never could I hope to meet with such another.
Two years were pass'd since to a distant town
He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade.
What tears of bitter grief till then unknown!
What tender vows our last sad kiss delay'd!
To him we turn'd: — we had no other aid.
Like one revived, upon his neck I wept,
And her whom he had loved in joy, he said,
He well could love in grief: his faith he kept;
And in a quiet home once more my
father slept.
We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest
With daily bread, by constant toil supplied.
Three lovely infants lay upon my breast;
And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sigh'd,
And knew not why. My happy Father died
When sad distress reduced the children's meal:
Thrice happy! that for him the grave did hide
The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel,
And tears that flow'd for ills which patience could not hea
'Twas a hard change, an evil time was come;
We had no hope, and no relief could gain.
But soon, with proud parade, the noisy drum
Beat round, to sweep the streets of want and pain.
My husband's arms now only served to strain
Me and his children hungering in his view:
In such dismay my prayers and tears were vain :
To join those miserable men he flew ;
And now to the sea-coast, with numbers more, we drew.
There long were we neglected, and we bore
Much sorrow, ere the fleet its anchor weigh'd;
Green fields before us, and our native shore,
We breathed a pestilential air, that made
Ravage for which no knell was heard. We pray'd
For our departure; wish'd and wish'd-nor knew
'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes delay'd,
That happier days we never more must view:
The parting signal stream'd, at last the land withdrew.
But the calm summer season now was past.
On as we drove, the equinoctial deep
Ran mountains-high before the howling blast;
And many perish'd in the whirlwind's sweep.
We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep,
Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue,
Our hopes such harvest of affliction reap,
That we the mercy of the waves should rue:
We reach'd the western world, a poor, devoted crew.
The pains and plagues that on our heads came down, Disease and famine, agony and fear,
In wood or wilderness, in camp or town,
It would thy brain unsettle even to hear.
all, in one remorseless year, Husband and Children! one by one, by sword And ravenous plague, all perish'd: every tear Dried up, despairing, desolate, on board
A British ship I waked, as from a trance restored.
Peaceful as some immeasurable plain
By the first beams of dawning light imprest,
In the calm sunshine slept the glittering main.
The very ocean hath its hour of rest.
I too forgot the heavings of my breast.
Oh me, how quiet sky and ocean were!
As quiet all within me. I was blest!
And look'd, and look'd along the silent air,
Until it seem'd to bring a joy to my despair.
Ah! how unlike those late terrific sleeps,
And groans, that rage of racking famine spoke!
The unburied dead that lay in festering heaps!
The breathing pestilence that rose like smoke!
The shriek that from the distant battle broke!
The mine's dire earthquake, and the pallid host
Driven by the bomb's incessant thunder-stroke
To loathsome vaults, where heart-sick anguish toss'd,
Hope died, and fear itself in agony was lost!
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