The hill of which I spoke has sometimes been, As was well known, the site of tragic scene.
It is a solid ma.s.s of limestone rock-- And there oft falls some huge misshapen block.
On one occasion a poor quarryman Saw danger pending, and away he ran; "Twas all in vain! the lately-riven stone Came thundering down, and crushed his every bone!
A tale like this might well some minds appal-- But WILLIAM felt, just then, of dauntless soul; And, with his cousin, hasted up the hill, With eager steps and most unyielding will; A scene there met his gaze which him repaid, And threw the toil required far in the shade.
On every hand a charming prospect lay, In all the beauty of a bright Spring day.
All Nature smiled, in loveliest green confessed, Like a fair maiden for her bridal drest.
And songsters of the grove, no longer sad, Their notes were warbling forth to make her glad.
And need we wonder then, if there he stood, With glowing heart, and wrapt in musing mood?
As was his wont, he felt a strong desire From such sweet views to draw poetic fire.
And so it was, for out his numbers flowed, Which, quickly penned, he on his friends bestowed.
And though these numbers were but very rude, They were, by rustic friends, with wonder viewed.
While he stood there his thoughts were backward thrown To days which on Time"s fleetest wing had flown-- When his grandfather, in that humble cot, With sweet contentedness enjoyed his lot; Wrought quietly at his most lowly trade, And honest lived--though small the profits made.
In his mind"s eye, he saw his father climb Those rugged cliffs, in youth, or manhood"s prime; Or, with his brothers join in lively play, On the long evenings of each Summer day.
Anon would view the time when each forsook That humble cottage, some fresh toil to brook; Saw them all settled in a wedded life-- In honest work employed, exempt from strife.
Or glanced at some of his own early days-- When he gave up, on Sat.u.r.days, his plays, To go with his dear grandfather, to sell The neat _bee-hives_ the old man framed so well.
And often wondered what made selfish men Try at less price those _bee-hives_ to obtain; And why the tears would oft the eyes bedim Of that old man, when they thus bantered him?
And then with lightning speed his thoughts would stray, To when his grandfather was ta"en away, To meet in church-yard with his kindred clay.
As thus he stood and mused, his cousin"s call Roused him again to consciousness of all The widespread beauties of that landscape bright And he, reluctant, left the beauteous sight.
To hint at all he saw my time would fail, And might too much but lengthen out my tale.
Suffice it, therefore, just for me to say, That he spent pleasantly each holiday.
Ere this, when he was in his fourteenth year, Amongst the Temperance ranks he did appear; Attended meetings, heard the speeches made, And grew indignant at the liquor trade.
He signed the pledge--the strict "teetotal" pledge-- And felt determined constant war to wage Against the huge, fierce monster, Drunkenness Which caused, on every hand, such sore distress.
A drunken parent he had never had-- The Lord preserved him from a fate so sad!
But still his fervent soul was filled with grief, From which he vainly strove to gain relief, So long as this dread vice o"erspread the land, And strong drink"s victims died, on every hand.
He thought upon the thing till bold he grew, And framed a speech to tell of all he knew Of this vile demon"s doings in the world, And wished that out of it he might be hurled.
Soon after this, from Canada there came A Christian man; no matter what his name.
He long to WILLIAM"S parents had been known, And hospitality to him was shown.
On that good country"s merits much he dwelt, And COOPER"S ears being open, soon he felt A strong desire to reach that distant sh.o.r.e, And all its giant wonders to explore.
Oft he had heard of its vast, splendid lakes, Stupendous cataracts, and great cane-brakes; Of boundless woods, well filled with n.o.ble trees And hugest rivers rolling to the seas.
The man described quite well Niagara"s falls, Its thundering sound as it o"erleaps its walls; He told the distance they could hear the sound, And how with ceaseless roar it shook the ground; Of Summer"s heat, of the long Winter"s cold, And at what price the finest lands were sold.
This, and far more, the settler told the youth, Who did regard it all as sterling truth, And wished--but wished in vain--that he was free To cross at once the stormy, deep blue sea.
No way appeared but quietly to wait Till he was loosed, and grown to man"s estate.
Some years must pa.s.s before that day arrive, So to be patient he thought fit to strive.
One-half of his apprenticeship had fled, And now he fairly earned his daily bread.
Of clothes, his parents" ever constant care Provided him with quite a decent share.
Of pocket money he ne"er had a store, His needs supplied, he did not care for more; And his step-mother oft thought fit to say That "money burned his pockets all away."
Howe"er it was, he never had a cent But found a _hole_, and out of that it went!
Though still close-worked, he did contrive to spare Some precious, time to spend in rhyming ware.
He read sweet COWPER"S poems through and through-- And, more he read, the more he liked them, too; His "Task" the most of all--an ample field-- What heart-felt pleasure it did to him yield!
Then MILTON"S lofty genius fired his soul, Nor did he tire till he had read the whole.
Again began, and o"er the pages pored, And drank the sweets with which they are well stored.
Then THOMPSON"S _Seasons_ with delight he read, And YOUNG"S _Night Thoughts_ in mournful dress arrayed.
Some few sweet pieces he from BYRON drew, And read poor BURNS with much advantage, too.
But of all poets he loved COWPER most, For in Miltonic grandeur he was lost; And THOMSON lacked that great variety Which in sweet Olney"s bard we clearly see.
Afflicted Poet! Thou didst well thy part, By pouring balm into the wounded heart; And while the world endures, thy verse will cheer Poor down-cast souls, and bid them not to fear!
Nor did he read alone the poet"s page, Good books in prose would oft his mind engage: For he had joined th" Mechanics" Inst.i.tute-- And in its praises I would not be mute.
Mechanics! It deserves your best support, And to its rooms you often should resort.
There you may learn from books to act your parts, While they refine and elevate your hearts.
He with great travelers took delight to roam In distant countries, far away from home; And frequently has dropped a silent tear O"er PARK"S great trials in the desert drear.
Oh! who can read of all his heart-felt woes-- His frequent sufferings, and his dying throes-- And fail to drop a sympathetic tear For his sad end--without a friend to cheer!
In LANDERS" patient, persevering toil, Through greatest dangers, on wild Afric"s soil, He felt the deepest interest, and partook Their joys and sorrows, while he read their book.
And hailed, with pleasure and unfeigned delight, The happy moment when the welcome sight Of Niger"s junction with the great deep sea A period put to their sad misery!
Read BRUCE, whose book, received with cold distrust, Was only prized when he was laid in dust.
And HUMBOLDT, the admired of all mankind, Of gentle manners and accomplished mind; Who scaled the lofty Andes" snow-clad towers, Where danger lurks, and fell destruction lowers.
And COOK, who bravely sailed around the Earth-- A friend to man--ev"n man of lowest birth.
Whose peaceful voyages to each far coast Were for man"s benefit--as we may boast--- Yet at sad price, since his dear life was lost!
Of warlike heroes" lives he read a few, And of War"s horrors thus obtained a view-- Which made him sick at heart, nor wish to know More of man"s b.l.o.o.d.y doings here below.
His sober and industrious conduct gained The Master"s confidence--which he retained; And so, in services requiring trust He was employed, and still continued just.
Sometimes to distant places he was sent-- And well he did enjoy the time thus spent.
It scope afforded to reflective powers-- And thus he profited by these spare hours.
Greatly did it delight him to behold Fair Nature glittering in green and gold: And the pure melody in different groves Reminded him of his own early loves; Or led him to break out, with tuneful voice, In some sweet hymn, which made his heart rejoice.
For he had now begun to feel the worth Of Heavenly things, and pour G.o.d"s praises forth.
In this way, once he pa.s.sed through Dallam Park, To see its deer, and other objects mark.
These lovely creatures to his mind did seem Most unfit objects of man"s sporting dream.
He greatly wondered how some men could be E"er guilty of, such wanton cruelty, As to pursue, with horses and with hounds, Such harmless creature over all their grounds; Hunt him o"er swamps and fields, and mountain slopes, Through pebbly streams, or shady hazel copse, Till they have driven him at last to bay, Toward the close of some most sultry day.
Wondered how any one, with tearless eye, Could mark his sufferings, and then watch him die.
Oh, cruel man! when will thy thirst for blood Be turned to energy in doing good?
When will Creation"s groans come to an end, And men delight in love their days to spend?
While such reflections occupied his mind, The place he went to seek he strives to find, And is successful; gets his business done, Then back pursues his homeward way alone.
Now Fancy wings her flight; I view again Scenes which my memory will long retain; See Kent--unsung--flow on in winding course Through woods and fields, with very gentle force; Or where, by Sedgwick"s side, its waters pour O"er jagged rocks, with never-ceasing roar; Or where they smoothly glide past Leven"s hall, Sweet landscapes forming, which can never pall The minds of those who love a beauteous scene, And wish to spend a day in bliss serene.
For there this stream just flows as if by stealth Through splendid parks--past gardens formed by wealth!
I oft look back to those most gladsome hours Spent, while a schoolboy, in those garden bowers; Where tall box-trees are trimmed to various shapes-- Old women--pitchers--or, it may be--_apes!_ Where plants and beauteous flowers are ever found, To breathe out fragrance all the garden round.
"Tis time for me to curb my vagrant Muse; A subject waits my pen she well may choose.
Now aid me, O my G.o.d! who dwell"st above, While I attempt to sing Redeeming Love!
Nor let one line, or word, be writ by me Not in accordance with that Mystery!
May I, to profit fellow-sinners, strive, And good from this for my own soul derive.
BOOK IV.
THE ARGUMENT.--Address to the Sacred Scriptures, glancing briefly at their various excellencies. WILLIAM becomes a Christian. His reception into a Church. Different view of things after Conversion. Voice of Nature heard in G.o.d"s praise. Wonders why _Man_ is so backward in this. Discovers reasons in Man"s inbred corruption, temptations, etc.
Salvation all of Grace. The humbling nature of this truth to Man"s pride; but the security it affords Believers. Its effects on him. Fresh love trials--consequent resolutions. Sabbath morning walk--Church bells.
Visit to farm-house; family worship. Glance at what England owes to Prayer. Sunday school teaching. Other exercises on that day. Their influence on him. Prepares to emigrate. Parting scenes, etc. Embarks at Liverpool.