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THE BEGGAR'S PETITION*,
My daughter, once the comfort of my age,
My tender wife, sweet soother of my cares,
Fell, ling’ring fell, a victim to Despair, And left the world to wretchedness and me!
Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door ;
[fpan : Whose days are dwindled to the shortest Oh, give relief, and Heav'n will bless your
THE POOR MAN'S PRAYER.
WRITTEN IN MDCCLXVI. ADDRESSED TO THE EARL OF CHATHAM.
By DR. ROBERTS.
uit, d. 10.
ITY the sorrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne bim to your door;
[span :Whose days are dwindled to the shortest Oh, give relief, and Heav'n will bless your
store! These tatt rid cloaths my poverty bespeak; Thefe hoary locks proclaim my lengthen'd years ;
(check And many a furrow in my grief-worn Has been the channel to a flood of tears!
Yon houfe, erected on the rising ground, With tempting aspect drew me from my road;
For Pleniy there a residence has found, And Grandeur a magnificent abode.
Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor ! Here, as I crav'd a morsel of their bread,
A pamper d menial drove me from the door, To seek a shelter in a humbler shed.
Oh, take me to your hospitable dome! Keenblows the wind, and; iercing is the cold !
Short is my pallage to the friendly torub;
Should I reveal the sources of my grief,
[lee ! 'Tis Heav'n bas brought ine to the state you
And your condition foon may be like mine, The cuild of Sorrow, and of Misery !
A little farın was my paternal lot ; Then, like the lark, I sprightly baild the morn !
[cot; But, alı! Oppression forc'd me from my My cattle died, and blighted was my corn.
Tho' Europe from thy voice expect her fate,
pole : o Chatham ! nurs’d in antient Virtue'slore, To these fad strains incline a far’ring ear;
Think on the God whom thou and I adore,
Far from the stormy waves of civil (trife,
pow'r ; My toil could food her, and my arm velend :
in south, or age, in paili, or pleafure's hour, The same fund husband, father, brother, friend.
And the, the faithful partoer of my care, Wherfuddy ev'ning streakd the Wettern lky, Look'd low'rus the uplands, if her mate
was there, Or thro’rne beach-wood caft an anxious eye: Then, careful matron, heap'd the maple
board With fav'ry herbs, and pick'd the nicer part
From such plain food as N.:ture could aftord, Eie fimple Nature was debauch'd by Art.
While!, contented with my homely chear, Saw round! my knees my prattling children
play ; And oft, with pleas'd attention, lat to hear The little hift'ry of their iche day.
See p. 80.
EMINENT AND UNFOR 1 V
But, ah, how chang'd the scene ! on the Th' unheeding crew but wait for fav'ring cold stones,
gales; Where wont at night to blaze the chearful fire, o stop then, ere they stem Italia's wave! Pale Famine fits, and counts her naked bones,
From chee alone 1 hope for instant aid ; Still lighs for fond, still pines with vain desire.
'Tis thou alone cantt lave my children's My faithful wife, with ever-streaming eyes, breath; Hangs on my busom her dejected head; 0, deem not little of our cruel meed!
My helpless infants raise their feeble cries, 0, haste to help us 1 for delay is death! And from their father claim their daily bread.
So may nor spleen nor en vy blast thy name, Dear, tender pledges of my honett love, Nor voice proplane thy patriot acts deride; On that bare bed behold your brother lie! Still may'st thou stand the first in honest Three tedious days with pinching want he fame, strove,
Unftung by folly, vanity, or pride 1 The fourth lfaw the helpless Cherub die !
So may thy languid limbs with strength be Not long shall ye remain ! -With visage brac'd, four,
And glowing health support thy active soul ; Our tyrant lord commands us from our home; With fair renown thy public virtue grac'd, And, arm'd with cruel law's coercivc Far as thou bad'& Britanuia’s thunders roll. pow'r,
Then joy to thee, and to my children peace, Bids me and mine o'er barren mountains
The grateful hind hall drink from Plenty's Yet never, Chatham! have I pass'd a day
create, lu riot's orgies, or in idle ease;
And, while they share the cultur'd land's in. Ne'er have I sacrific'd to sport and play, The poor fhall bless the day when Pitt was Or with d a pamper'd appetite to please.
born. Hard was my fate, and constant was my
COMPASSION, toil! Still with the morning's orient light I rose,
By A LATE Fell'd the fout oak, or rais'd the lofty pile,
NATE Divine. Parch'd in the sun, in dark December froze.
Mijeris fuccurrere disce. Is it that Nature, with a niggard hand,
OOK not on those, that happy few, Withholds her gifts from thefe once-favour'd
Nor feed thy envy there,
Who, plac'd above the vulgar view,
Joy's conitant lunthine thare.
Adown thine eyes in pity throw, Alinol-Yon hill, where daily sweats my
And bless thy mitler fatc ; brow,
Where sickiess, poverty, and woe, A thousand docks, a thousand herds adorn ;
Poffers the luft'rer's gate ! Yon field, where late I drove the painful plough,
Those suff'rers throng from every part, Feels all her acres crown'd with wavy corn,
From every ride appear ;
Behold, and weep, and mend thy heart, But what avails, that, o'er the furrow'd soil,
And learn Conteniment there! In autumn's heat the yellow harveits rise,
PANORMUS. If artificial want einde my toil, Untatied plenty wound my craving eyes ! THE TRIUMPHANT WARRIOR. What profits that at distance I behold
BY THE SAME. My wealthy neighbour's fragrant smoke ascend;
AR, and arms, and death preIf Atill the griping cormorants withhold
vailing, The fruits which rain and genial seasons send ! Front to front we firmly stood ;
And with eager force atlailing, If those fell vipers of the public weal
Greedy drew each other's blood. Yet unrelenting on our bou els prey;
Brave, brave the death and great the woupii, If still the curse of penury we feel, And in the midst of plenty pine away !
Which Fame approv'd, and Honour crowu'd. In every port the vessel rides tecure,
Bc nerv'd the arm, be drawn the sword, That walls our harveft to a foreign shore ;
War, war, when glory is the word! While we the pangs of preiling want en
As lightning (wifi the liero flies, dure,
As lightnings, fialh his ardent eyes : The fons of ftrangers riot on our store !
His flaming faulchion, lo, he draws!
And gladly, in his country's cause, Ogen'rous Chatham! stop those fatal fails ! Or crown'd with conquest mounts to Fame, Once more with out. Itretch'd arm thy Bri Or crown'd with honour dies. tons favel
E. LE GY,
A bell, I fancied, with instructive sound, By THE REV. JOHN ADAMIHWAITE,
Alone disturb'd the midnight stillness M.A. NOW D.D. RECTOR OF BAXTER
And pennive murmurs died alung the LEY, AND OF BADDESLEY-ENSOR, IN IHE COUNTY OF WAWICK ; ALSO
I saw, decreas'd, the pageant move along, VicaR OF SHAKERSTON,
In tlow proceffion, thro'a mournful throng i COUNTY OF LEICESTER.
And Mill the twinkling Aambeaux fee.n'd to
Mow, His latem accumulem donis, & furgar inani With fainter glare, the dismal scene of woe : Nee.
VIRG. Till, where the lane its hanging turret reard,
Th' attendants halted ; and all disappear'd. UR willow wreaths we now neglected leave,
How drear, I cried, the passage to the tomb! jud into chapiers baleful eypress weave. That re.slm where pain and pleasure never Lethrpier hands bind ioles in their bloom
[fants dweli; On smiling brows; we deck the gharttul Where Kings, uniropried, muit with pettomb.
(threw ; And bie!, for humbler itate, their crowns These lite sprung Bow'rets, Mules, ye may farewel! The boon is trivial, but the labour due. Beyond the bour a territory lies, [eyes.
The fell disease, that long bad ragū in vain, O'érhung with clouds unpiered by mortal Began to waken ev'ry vital pain;
The veil was rent; etherial worlds arose! With new attacks provok'th'unequal strife,
Where Saints, at length redetm'd from huAnd, with no idle danger,: breaten'd like :
man woes, Withlolden spoils th'indignant fue requird,
Berond the tomb in bappier scenes repofe. And Heav'n re-fum non’d what itself infpir do their proper funs they saw descend and rise 'Tuas in these moments, while the silent
In equal orbits, and ferener skies. nighe
No riling cloud c'eriait their purer day, In h. Imy number fea!d my aching figh:,
But breaking froms beneath them rollid Methouglielfaw once more, with humid eye,
away : Alonzo pale with mortal fickness lie;
Meanwhile, ere yet the faithless tints decay'd, The te'r-lame as I last in life had seen;
Or Did th’unfoundexi fyítem into Thade, How full the fe. cures, and expucis the mien! From nearer Heav'ni barmonious accents Their ardent wiibes to attuage the pain,
brake, His friends around him well express’d in vain. And thus, I thought, a voice diftin&tly (pake ; But foremost the, who now laments alone, And makes in niournful shades her heavier “ Deluuled mortal! why will they commoan;
plain, When all her kind connubial cares had fail'd, Whose heaving fighsand Aowingtears arevain? And black Affliction's whelming storm pre- If e'er the good, releas'd from Nature's laws, vail'd:
Mourn, 'tis for sorrows that they, guiltless, Yet a!} the while they filently contend
[sweets In rival forrows for their common friend, Thrice happy else, they taste those purer Nor wish, nor doubt, his congue e'er once re No time can injure, in these blissful seats. veals ;
Lament not him you saw with Fate contend, No tale of aught he feurs, of all he feels. And then in filence to the grave descend. More faintly now he drew each doubtful For him his ev'ning fun, with chearful ray, breath;
In going down foretold a brighter day : But saw with Atendy eye approaching death : For him it role in glory! though to you Refign's, whenever the Supreme Command Array’al in colours of the deepest hue. Should speed the shalt that ain'd his lifted 'Tis here, where Saints, transform'd, with hand.
Angels dwell, O may I thus, cach ille project o'er,'
And, as in holiness, in bliss excel, When lite's faise colours can allure no more,
That all bis virtues find their due regard, Hare done cacı part, but most in:lis excel,
And, what not men could give him, their re
ward. And calnıly bid tii'applauding world farewel!
The sums, on earth he charitably gave, The scene, I thought, was mov'd, and He tenfold now receives beyond the grave. Fancy dres
The tender, feeling ful, for friendihip made, Remoter objects, in a fiinter view :
Behold with ev'iy social joy repaid; Ascutcheon'd lie, wind plumes; a sable Siacere as those kind Fortune bade him share, train ;
(Evin then how happy!) with his faithful fair. And, leil’ming to the right, a ballow'd fane. Him cease to mourn; and learn, by Virtue's Iis nouluing head the filver moon: pale
To gain yon summit of immortal praise. Revcalinis, lingid with interrupted glems; And where, in life's daik vile, the clouds of While, muro ditinet, with emulaticliilit
[low; Biciflime, lizdalas, los 2.15ly Tlie sense involve, and o'er thy path bang bolt!
The devious track Religion Mall explain,
We'll court the aweful silence of the night, Direct thy steps, thy fainting soul sustain ;
When the moon, Aoating on the filver wave, Teach, ev’n while wet with tears, ihy Calls up to keen Imagination's fight, strengthen'd eye
The sales of thousands from their wat'ry To pierce the veil between thee and the sky." grave. The voice was heard no more: th' eluded Or let us tread some ruin'd abbey's ground, fight
Where at the midnight hour, in fpeechless The scene, pursuing, loft in shades of night!
fear, I wept, and, waking in a wild surprise, Stands the lone pilgrim, from the tombs around Heard bollow winds responsive to my sighs, While groans of martyrs vibrate on his ear.
This artless wreath a youthful Poet woves Or if no soleinn, no mysterious scene, While nobler friendship claim'd the place of Inspire fublime enthusiastic dreams; Tove :
[twine, With hand less daring, and with mind serenc, He that with skill could once young myrtles I'll tune my rustic pipe to humbler themes. And mingled roses deck'd each new design.
Then be thou, Solitude, the gift of Fate, Accept, at length, thou much-lamented
When youth is flown, and life draws near Shade!
its close; These my last offices, tho' long delay'd :
When Piety ihall view a happier state, Sad offices ! to thee too early paid.
And lull cach human sorrow to repose. EPITAPH.
Then too, O Fortitude, thy pow'r display! LAST of his kindred to these realms con
Pollers, fupport, invigorate my breast! sign'd,
And, while to Heav'n Religion points the way, A Pilgrim sleeps; the friend of human kind.
Seraphs shall waft my parting soul to reit, He was in life to ev'ry bosom dear; Yet cease for him to Med the tender tear.
CHAPTER XLI. VERSES 1--4.
DEATH! how ghaftly does thy form
appear, TRANGER to happiness, by care deprest, ' with what aftright we thy intrusion bear, Where can I hope substantial peace to Tho' but in thought, and thou, perhaps, find !
not ncar! How fonthe the pensive sorrows of my breast, When Fortune wasts us with a prosp'rous Or calm the tortures of a wounded mind!
gale, Among the gay, or with th' unfeeling great,
When Peace and Plenty fillthe swellingfail, Can real liappiness be found to dwell? And Pleasure rules the helm, and Love's Ah no! The flies the gaikly domes of Itale,
soft laws prevail. To seek the peatant's cui, or hermal's cell.
O Death, how chang'd thy hue! thou At midnight masquerade, or public thew,
cow'it a friend; Let thouglitless Beauty all her hours em Thy terrors vanith, and thy venoms (perd, ploy:
Thou grinn't a smile, and art our hope Yet there, while idly gay her spirits flow,
and end ! Reaton shall alk, “ Can this be genuine
When Wand comes on, with formidable fway ;
[gives way ;
When feeble Age to Tine's keen scythe She scorns such frivolons delights to prize,
Aid tad Depair, oppreis'd with care, docs And, pleas'd to Thun the dillipaled crew,
chide the tardy day. To peace, to privacy, to filence fies, And bids the world, and all its cares, adieu.
Be not dismay'd at the approach of Death,
Our ancestors have ailitlign'i their breath; Then welcome, Solitude, thy calm retreat,
Nor quarrel at the fix'd decree of Fate, Lov'd by the Hermit, Poet, and the Sage; we all must enier thro' that gloomy gute : Where Virtue, Genius, Science, fix their
If loon, or late, we yield whi licav'o first feat,
gave;Pride, ornament, and glory, of their age! The world must centre in the darkíme In the dark wood, and near the lucid Atream,
EDMIN WATSOS, M.D.
was interred here 1774, aged 78. By thee the Soul of Poetry inspir'dl,
Qualis eram fuge quzrere; Shall with celestial ardour learn to ClOw;
ultima dies ostendat; Feel all its pow'rs with admiration fird,
nemo mihi male licat ; And, rapt in thought, leaye groter worlds requeo in tenebris respondere. below.
Abi, & cave!
Ś O N N ET,
Belides he 'll cut you off fu' gleg
The shape of Adam's philibeg,
The knife that cuter Abel s craig,
He'll prove you ully,
It was a faulding jackteleg,
Or long kail gully.
(For mickle glee and fun has be,)
Gude fellows wi' him, The grand design of Mercy to make known, And port, O port ! shine thou a wee, The Earth, the Seas, and Rocks, confefs'd af.
And then you'll see hin! fright,
(alone. The Sun grew dim, and Darkness reign'd Now by the powers o'verse and prose,
Thou art a dainty chield, O Grole ! And while, with dread reluctance, Death Whate'er o' thee shall ili suppose, obey'd,
They sair misca' thee! And the invalued Sacrifice was giv'n,
I'd tak the rascal by the nose, Fear over all, ev'n to the centre, sway'd,
Would say, shame fa' thee! Remorse by ev'ry creature under Heav'n, But Sin, was felt ;--and hearts of Aeth were
THE FOR LORN MAIDEN. known, In those who e'er before had hearts of ftone!
HIS is the note, that nobody wrote. W. HAMILTON REID.
This is the grooni, that carried the note, that nobody wrote.
This is Ma'am Gunning, who was so very WRITTEN BY MR. BURNS, THE Scots cunning, as to betray the groom, that carried
POET, WHEN CAPT. GROSE WAS the note, that nobody wrote.
This is Ma'am Bowing, to whom it was TEAR, land o'cakes, and brither Scots,
owing, that Mrs. Minifie Gunning was so Erae Maiden Kirk to Johnie Groat's,
very cunning, as to betray the groom, that If there's a hole in a' your coats,
carried the note, that nobody wrote. I rede you tent it;
This is the maiden all for Lorsi, to become A shield 's among you taking notes,
of a sudden so tatter'd and torn, by means of And with he 'Il prent it. Ma'am Bowing, to whom it was owing, that
Mrs. Minifie Gunning was so very cunning, If in your bounds ye chance to light
as to betray the groom, that carried the note, Upon a fine, fat, fadgel evight,
that nobody wrote.. O' ftature short, but genius bright, That 's hemark weel! These are the Marqailles, fhy of the horn,
that caused the maiden all for Lorn, to beAnd wow he has an unco Night; O' cawk and keel.
come of a sudden fo tatter'd and torn, by
means of Ma'am Bowing, to whom it is owo At some auld how let-haunted biggin,
ing, that Mrs. Minifie Gunning was so very Or kirk deserted by its riggin,
cunning, as to betray the groom, that carried It 'sten to ane you 'll find him snug in
the note, that nobody wrote. Some eldritch part, Wi deels, they say, Lord late's I colleguing rebukes made the two Marquisses shy of the
There are the two Dukes, whose bitter At some black art.
horn, and caused the maiden all for Lord, to Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha' or chamer,
become of a sudden to tatter'd and torn, by Ye Gipsies-gang, that deal in glamer,
means of Ma'am Bowing, to whom it was And you, deep read in Hell's black grammer, owing, that Mrs. Minifie Gunning was so Warlocks and witcies!
very cunning, as to betray the groorn, that Ye'll quake at his conjuring hammer,
carried the note, that nobody wrote. Ye midnight bitches'!
This is the General, somewhat too bold, It's tauld he was a fodger bred,
whose head was so hot, though his heart was And ane would rather fa' than fied,
fo cold, who made himself single before it But now he's quot the spertle hlave,
was meet, and his wife and his daughter And dog-lkin wallet,
turu'd into the street, to appeale the two And ta'en the Antiquarian trade,
Dukes, whose bitter rebukes made the two I think they call it.
Marquifies thy of the horn, and caused the He hatti a fouth o' old nick-nackets,
mailen all for Lorn, to become of a sudden Rousty airn caps and gingling jackets, so taller'd and torn, by means of Ma'am Wouki haud ihe Lothians torce in tackets Bowing, to whom it was owing, that Mrs. A townionth gude ;
Minine Gunning was so very cunning, as to And pitcher-pors, and auld lan backets, betray the groom, that carried the note, that Afore the flood. nobody wrote.