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To pious James he then his prayer ad- | Yet dcath of man proclaim these heavy dress'd ;
chimes, Good-lack, quoth James, thy sorrows pierce For thrice they sound, with pausing space, my breast;
three times. And, had I wealth, as have my brethren Go; of my sexton seek, Whose days are twain,
sped ?One board should feed us and one roof contain: What! he, himself !—and is old Dibble dead? But plead I will thy cause and I will pray: His eightieth year he reach'd, still undecay'd, And so farewell! Heaven help thee on thy And rectors five to one close vault conway!
vey'd : Scoundrel ! said Roger, (but apart)- and But he is gone; his care and skill I lose,
And gain a mournful subject for my Muse : His case to Peter:-Peter too was cold :- His masters lost, he'd oft in turn deplore, The rates are high; we have a-many poor; And kindly add, - Heaven grant, I lose no But I will think, - he said, and shut the
Yet, while he spake, a sly and pleasant glance Then the gay Niece the seeming pauper Appear'd at variance with his complaisance:
For, as he told their fate and varying worth, Turn, Nancy, turn, and view this form dis- He archly look’d—I yet may bear thee forth.
When first-(he so began)-my trade I plied, Akin to thine is this declining frame,
Good master Addle was the parish-guide; And this poor beggar claims an Uncle's name. His clerk and sexton, I beheld with fear, Avaunt! begone! the courteous maiden said, His stride majestic, and his frown severe; Thou vile impostor! Uncle Roger's dead : A noble pillar of the church he stood, I hate thee, beast; thy look my spirit shocks! Adorn'd with college-gown and parish-hood: Oh! that I saw thee starving in the stocks! Then as he paced the hallow'd aisles about, My gentle niece! he said — and sought the He fillid the sevenfold surplice fairly out!
But in his pulpit, wearied down with prayer, I hunger, fellow; prithee, give me food! He sat and seem'd as in his study's chair; Give! am I rich? This hatchet take, and try For while the anthem swellid, and when it Thy proper strength, nor give those limbs
ceased, the lie;
Th’expecting people view'd their slumbering Work, feed thyself, to thine own powers
priest : appeal,
Who, dozing, died.–Our Parson Peele was Nor whine out woes, thine own right-hand
next; can heal:
I will not spare you, was his favourite text; And while that hand is thine and thine a leg, Nor did he spare, but raised them inany a Scorn of the proud or of the base to beg.-
pound; Come, surly John, thy wealthy kinsman Ev’n me he mulct for my poor rood of ground;
Yet cared he nought, but with a gibing speech, Old Roger said :-thy words are brave and What should I do, quoth he, but what I true;
preach? Come, live with me: we'll vex those scoun- His piercing jokes (and he'd a plenteous drel-boys,
store) And that prim shrew shall, envying, hear Were daily offer'd both to rich and poor ;
His scorn, his love, in playful words he spoke; Tobacco's glorious fume all day we'll share, His pity, praise, and promise, were a joke: With beef and brandy kill all kinds of care; But though so young and blest with spirits We'll beer and biscuit on our table heap,
high, And rail at rascals, till we fall asleep.-- He died as grave as any judge could die : Such was their life: but when the woodman The strong attack subdued his lively died,
powers,His grieving kin for Roger's smiles applied. His was the grave, and Doctor Grandspcar In vain; he shut, with stern rebuke, the door,
ours. And dying, built a refuge for the poor ; Then were there golden times the village With this restriction: That no Cuff should
In his abundance all appear'd t' abound; One meal, or shelter for one moment there. Liberal and rich, a plenteous beard he spread,
E’en cool Dissenters at his table fed ;
Who wish’d, and hoped,—and thought a man My record ends :- But hark! e'en now I
60 kind hear
A way to Heaven, though not their own, The bell of death, and know not whose to
might find; fear:
To them, to all, he was polite and free, Our farmers all and all our hinds were well; Kind to the poor, and, ah! most kind te In no man's cottage danger seem'd to dwell:
Ralph, would he say, Ralph Dibble, thou (He blush'd in meekness as a modest man,
And gain’d attention ere his task began; That doublet fit, 'twill keep thee from the When preaching, seldom ventured on reproof,
But touch'd his neighbours tenderly enough. How does my Sexton ? — What! the times Him, in his youth, a clamorous sect asrail'd,
are hard ;
preDrive that stout pig, and pen him in thy yard.
vail'd.But most, his Rey’rence loved a mirthful Then did he much his sober hearers vex,
Confound the simple, and the sad perplex; Thy coat is thin; why, man, thou’rt barely To a new style his Reverence rashly took;
Loud grew his voice, to threat'ning swellid It's worn to th' thread: but I have nappy
his look; beer;
Above, below, on either side, he gazed, Clap that within, and see how they will Amazing all, and most himself amazed :
No more he read his preachments pure and Gay days were these; but they were quickly
But launch'd outright and rose and sank When first he came, we found he conld not last:
again : A whoreson cough (and at the fall of leaf) | At times he smiled in scorn, at times he wept, L'pset him quite :-- but what's the gain of And such sad coil with words of vengeance grief?
kept, Then came the Author-Rector: his delight That our best sleepers started as they slept. Was all in books; to read them, or to write : Conviction comes like lightning, he would Women and men he strove alike to shun,
cry ; And hurried homeward when his tasks were in vain you seek it, and in vain you fly;
'Tis like the rushing of the mighty wind, Courteous enough, but careless what he said, Unseen its progress, but its power you find; For points of learning he reserved his head; It strikes the child ere yet its reason wakes ; And when addressing either poor or rich, His reason fled, the ancient sire it shakes; He knew no better than his cassock which : The proud, learn'd man, and him who loves He, like an osier, was of pliant kind,
to know Erect by nature, but to bend inclined;
How and from whence these gusts of grace Not like a creeper falling to the ground,
will blow, Or meanly catching on the neighbours It shuns, — but sinners in their way impedes,
And sots and harlots visits in their deeds: Careless was he of surplice, hood, and band,- of faith and penance it supplies the place; And kindly took them as they came to hand : Assures the vilest that they live by grace, Nor, like the doctor, wore a world of hat, And, without running, makes them win the As if he sought for dignity in that: He talk’d, he gave, but not with cautious Such was the doctrine our young prophet rules :
taught; Nor turn'd from gipsies, vagabonds, or fools; And here conviction, there confusion wrought; It Was his nature, but they thought it whim, When his thin cheek assumed a deadly hue, And so our beaux and beauties turn’d from And all the rose to one small spot withdrew :
They call'd it hectic; 'twas a fiery flush, of questions, much he wrote, profound and More fix'd and deeper than the maiden-blus);
His paler lips the pearly teeth disclosed, How spake the Serpent, and where stoppa And lab'ring lungs the length’ning speech the Ark;
opposed. From what far land the Queen of Sheba came; No more his span-girth shanks and quiv'ring Who Salem's priest, and what his father's
Upheld a body of the smaller size; He made the Song of Songs its mysteries But down he sank upon his dying bed,
And gloomy crotchets fill'd his wandering And Revelations, to the world, reveal'd.
head. He sleeps i' the aisle, but not a stone records Spite of my faith, all-saving faith, he cried, His name or fame, his actions or his words : I fear of worldly works the wicked pride; And truth, your Reverence, when I look Poor as I am, degraded, abject, blind,
The good I've wrought still rankles in my And mark the tombs in our sepulchral ground, (Though dare I not of one man's hope to My alms-deeds all, and every deed I've done,
My moral-rage defile me every one; ra join the party who repose without. It should not be:- what sayst thou? tell Next came a Youth from Cambridge, and,
Ralph. in truth,
Quoth I: Your Reverence, I believe, you're He was a sober and a comely youth;
Your faith's your prop, nor have you pass'd | Here, with an infant, joyful sponsors come,
Then bear the new-made Christian to its In life's good-works as swell them to a
A few short years and we behold him stand, If I of pardon for my sins were sure, To ask a blessing, with his bride in hand : About my goodness I would rest secure. A few, still seeming shorter, and we hear Such was his end; and mine approaches His widow weeping at her husband's bier :
Thus,as the months succeed, shall infants take I've seen my best of preachers,- and my Their names; thus parents shall the child last.
forsake; He bow'd, and archly smiled at what he said, Thus brides again and bridegrooms blithe Civil but sly :--And is old Dibble dead?
sball kneel, Yes! he is gone: and we are going all; By love or law compell’d their vows to seal, Like flowers we wither, and like leaves we Ere I again, or one like me, explore
These simple Annals of the VILLAGE-POOR.
THE LIB R A R Y.
When the sad soul, by care and grief | Those lenient cares, which, with our own oppress'd,
combined, Lookis round the world, but looks in vain By mix'd sensations ease th' afflicted mind,
And steal our grief away and leave their own When every object that appears in view,
behind; Partakes her gloom and seems dejected too; A lighter grief! which feeling hearts endure Where shall affliction from itself retire ? Without regret, nor e'en demand a cure. Where fade away and placidly expire ? But what strange art, what magic can dispose Alas! we fly to silent scenes in vain ; The troubled mind to change its native woes? Care blasts the honours of the flow'ry plain: Or lead us willing from ourselves, to see Care veils in clouds the sun's meridian Others more wretched, more undone than we?
This books can do ;- nor this alone; they give Sighs through the grove and murmurs in New views to life, and teach us how to live;
the stream; They soothe the grieved, the stubborn they For when the soul is labouring in despair,
chastise, In vain the body breathes a purer air: Fools they admonish, and confirm the wise: No storm - tost sailor sighs for slumbering Their aid they yield to all: they never shun
The man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone: He dreads the tempest, but invokes the Unlike the hard, the selfish, and the proud,
They fly not sullen from the suppliant crowd; On the smooth mirror of the deep resides Nor tell to various people various things, Reflected wo, and o'er unruffled tides But show to subjects, what they show to The ghost of every former danger glides.
kings. Thus in the calms of life we only see Come,Child of Care! to make thy soul serene; A steadier image of our misery;
Approach the treasures of this tranquil scene; But lively gales and gently-clouded skies Survey the dome, and, as the doors unfold, Disperse the sad reflections as they risc ; The soul's best cure, in all her carer, behold! And busy thoughts and little cares avail Where mental wealth the poor in thought To ease the mind, when rest and reason fail. When the dull thought, by no designs em- And mental physic the diseased in mind;
See here the balms that passion's wounds Dwells on the past, or suffer'd or enjoy'd,
assuage; We bleed anew in every former grief, See coolers here, that damp the fire of rage; And joys departed furnish no relief. Here altratives, by slow degrees control Not Hope herself, with all her flattering art, The chronic habits of the sickly soul; Can cure this stubborn sickness of the heart: And round the heart and o'er the aching The soul disdains each comfort she prepares,
head, And anxious searches for congenial cares; Mild opiates here their sober influence shed.
Now bid thy soul man's busy scenes exclude, | Whether 'tis yours to lead the willing mind
Or whether, led by science, ye retire,
Or godlike wisdom teaches you to show
To mark the flying follies of the age: Their matual feelings, in the opening spring; Whatever good ye boast, that good impart; But man alone has skill and power to send Inform the head and rectify the heart. The heart's warm dictates to the distant
friend : 'Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise Lo! all in silence, all in order stand, Ages remote, and nations yet to rise. And mighty folios first, a lordly band; In sweet repose, when labour's children sleep, Then quartos their well-order'd ranks mainWhen joy forgets to smile and care to weep,
tain, When passion slumbers in the lover's breast, And light octavos fill a spacious plain : And fear and guilt partake the balm of rest, See yonder, ranged in more frequented rowe, Why then denies the studious man to share A humbler band of duodecimos; Man's common good, who feels his common While undistinguish'd trifles swell the scene,
The last new play and fritter'd magazine. Because the hope is his, that bids him fly Thus 'tis in life, where first the proud, the Night's soft repose, and sleep's mild power
In leagued assembly keep their cumbrous That after-ages may repeat his praise,
state; And fame's fair meed be his, for length of Heavy and huge, they fill the world with days.
dread, Delightfal prospect! when we leave behind Are much admired, and are but little read: A worthy offspring of the fruitful mind! The commons next, a middle rank, are found; Which, born and nursed through many an Professions fruitful pour their offspring anxious day,
round; Shall all our labour, all our care repay: Reasoners and wits are next their place alPer all are not these births of noble kind,
low'd, Not all the children of a vigorous mind; And last, of vnlgar tribes a countless crowd. But where the wiscst should alone preside, First, let us view the form, the size, the The weak would rule us, and the blind would
For these the manners, nay the mind express; Nay, man's best efforts taste of man, and That weight of wood, with leathern coat show
o'erlaid; The poor and troubled source from which Those ample clasps, of solid metal made;
The close-press'd leaves, unclosed for many Where most he triumphs, we his wants per
an age; ceive,
The dull red edging of the well-fill'd page; And for his weakness in his wisdom grieve. On the broad back the stubborn ridges rolla, But though imperfect all, yet wisdom lover where yet the title stands in tarnish'd gold; This seat serene,and virtue's self approves :- These all a sage and labour'd work proclaim, Here come the grieved, a change of thought A painful candidate for lasting fame:
No idle wit, no trifling verse can lurk The curious here, to feed a craving mind; In the deep bosom of that weighty work; Here the devout their peaceful temple choose; No playful thoughts degrade the solemn And here the poet meets his favouring muse.
style, With awe around these silent walks I tread; Nor one light sentence claims a transient These are the lasting mansions of the dead:
smile. The dead !-methinks a thousand tongues Hence,in these times, untouch'd the pages lie,
And slumber out their immortality: These are the tombs of such as cannot die! They had their day, when, after all his toil, Crown'd with eternal fame, they sit sublime, His morning-study, and his midnight-oil, And laugh at all the little strife of time. At length an author's one great work apHail, then, immortals! ye who shine above,
pear'd, Each, in his sphere, the literary Jove; By patient hope and length of days endeard : And ye the common people of these skics, Expecting nations hail'd it from the press ; A humbler crowd of nameless deities; Poetic friends prefix'd each kind address;
Princes and kings received the pond'rous gift, | Not truths like these inspired that numerAnd ladies read the work they could not lift.
ous race, Fashion, though Folly's child, and guide of Whose pious labours fill this ample space;
But questions nice, where doubt on doubt Rules e'en the wisest, and in learning rules;
arose, From crowds and courts to Wisdom's seat Awaked to war the long-contending foes.
For dubious meanings learn'd polemics And reigns triumphant o'er her mother's foes.
strove, For lo! these fav’rites of the ancient mode And wars on faith prevented works of love; Lie all neglected like the Birth-day-Ode; The brands of discord far around were hurl'd, Ah! needless now this weight of massy And holy wrath inflamed a sinful world:
Dull though impatient, peevish though Safe in themselves the once-loved works
With wit disgusting and despised without; No readers now invade their still retreat, Saints in design, in execution men, None try to steal them from their parent- Peace in their looks, and vengeance in their seat;
pen. Like ancient beauties, they may now discard' Chains, bolts, and locks, and lie without a
Methinks I see, and sicken at the sight, Our patient fathers trifling themes laid by, Spirits of spleen from yonder pile alight; And roll’d, o'er labour'd works, th' atten- Spirits who prompted every damning page,
With pontiff-pride and still-increasing rage: Page after page, the much-enduring men Lo! how they stretch their gloomy wings Explored, the deeps and shallows of the pen;
around, Till, every former note and comment known, And lash with furious strokes the trembling They mark'd the spacious margin with their
They pray, they fight, they murder, and Minute corrections proved their studious
they weep, care ;
Wolves in their vengeance, in their manners The little index, pointing, told us where;
sheep; And many an emendation show'd the age Too well they act the prophet's fatal part, Look'd far beyond the rubric title-page. Denouncing evil with a zealons heart; Our nicer palates lighter labours seek, And each, like Jonas, is displeased if God Cloy'd with a folio-Number once a week; Repent his anger, or withhold his rod. Bibles, with cuts and comments, thus go But here the dormant fury rests unsought,
And Zcal sleeps soundly by the foes she E'en light Voltaire is number'd through the
Here all the rage of controversy ends, Thus physic flier abroad, and thus the law, And rival zealots rest like bosom-friends : From men of study, and from mien of straw; An Athanasian here, in deep repose, Abstracts, abridgments, please the fickle Sleeps with the fiercest of his Arian foes;
Socinians here with Calvinists abide, Pamphlets and plays and politics and rhymes: And thin partitions angry chiefs divide ; But though to write be now a task of ense, Here wily Jesuits simple Quakers meet, The task is hard by manly arts to please, And Bellarmine has rest at Luther's feet. When all our weakness is exposed to view, Great authors, for the church's glory fired, And half our judges are our rivals too. Are, for the church's peace, to rest retired;
And close beside, a mystic, mandlin race,
Lie: “Crumbs of Comfort for the Babes of Amid these works, on which the eager eye
Grace." Delights to fix, or glides reluctant by, Against her foes Religion well defends When all combined their decent pomp dis- Her sacred truths, but often fears her play,
friends ; Where shall we first our early offering pay?- If learn'd, their pride, if wenk, their Zral
And their hearts' weakness, who have To thee, DIVINITY! to thee, the light
soundest heads: And guide of mortals, through their mental But most she fears the controversial pen,
The holy strife of disputations men ; By whom we learn our hopes and fears to Who the blest Gospel's peaceful page guide;
explore, To bear with pain, and to contend with pride; Only to fight against its precepta more. When grieved, to pray; when injured, to Near to these seats behold yon slender frames
All closely fill'd and mark'd with modern And with the world in charity to live.