Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionary plum; The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestow'd By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and glow'd: Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Not scorn'd in Heav'n, though little notic'd here. I prick'd them into paper with a pin, (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast But me, scarce hoping to attain that rest, And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, TO MARY. THE twentieth year is well nigh past, Since first our sky was overcast, Ah would that this might be the last! My Mary! For though thou gladly would'st fulfil My Mary! My Mary! Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream; Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, My Mary! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, Partakers of thy sad decline, My Mary! My Mary! Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st, My Mary! And still to love, though prest with ill; In wint'ry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary! But ah! by constant heed I know, My Mary! And should my future lot be cast My Mary! THOMAS CHATTERTON. WRITTEN UNDER THE NAME OF ROWLEY. Supposed to have flourished in the 14th Century.* ECLOGUE THE FIRST. ROBERTE AND RAUFE. WHANNE Englonde, smeethyngea from her lethalb wounde, From her galled necke dyd twyttee the chayne awaie, Kennynged her legeful sonnes falle all arounde, (Myghtie theie fell, 'twas Honoure ledde the fraie,) Thanne inne a dale, bie eve's dark surcotee graie, Twayne lonelie shepsterresƒ dyd abroddeng tlie (The rostlyngh liff doth theyr whytte hartes affraiei,) And wythe the owlette trembled and dyd crie; Firste Roberte Neatherde hys sore boesom stroke, Then fellen on the grounde and thus yspoke. ROBERTE. Ah, Raufe! gif thos the howres do comme alonge, Gif thos wee flie in chase of farther woe, Oure fote wylle fayle, albeytte wee bee stronge, Ne wylle oure pace swefte as oure danger goe. c Pluck or pull; twitch. f Shepherds. a Smoking. d Seeing. g Abruptly. b Deadly. h Rustling. i Affright. * These Poems, considered as the productions of Chatterton, should have been inserted much earlier in this volume; but their apparent antiquity seemed to make them ill placed among modern poems. To have given them as specimens of our early poetry, if written by a modern, would have been absurd. Under this dilemma, they have been thrown to the end of the work. To oure grete wronges wee have enheped moe, The Baronnes warre! oh! woe and well-a-daie! I haveth lyff, bott have escaped soe That lyff ytsel mie Senses doe affraie Oh Raufe, comme lyste, and hear mie dernie / tale, Come heare the balefullm dome of Robynne of the dale. RAUFE. Saie to mee nete;n I kenne thie woe in myne; Oh! I've a tale that Sabalus o motep telle. Swote flouretts, mantled meedows, forestes dygne; r Gravots s far-kendt arounde the Errmiets u cell; The swote ribibler dynningy yn the dell; The joyous daunceynge ynn the hoastriez courte; Eke a the highe songe and everych joie farewell, Farewell the verie shade of fayre dysporte¿: Impestering c trobble onn mie heade doe comme, Ne on kynde Seyncte to warded the ayee encreasynge dome. ROBERTE. Oh! I coulde waile mie kynge-coppe-decked meesƒ, Mie spreedynge flockes of shepe of lillie white, Mie tendre applyngesg, and embodydeh trees, Mie Parker's Grange, i far spreedynge to the syghte, Mie cuyenk kynel, mie bullockes stringem yn fyghte, Mie gornen emblaunched with the comfreiep plante, Mie floure Seyncte Marieq shotteyngr wythe the lyghte, Mie store of all the blessynges Heaven can grant. k Added. p Might. 9 Sweet. r Good, neat. u Hermit. Violin. y Sounding. b Pleasure. 1 Sad. m Woeful. a Also. e Ever, always, h Thick, stout. k Tender. n Nought. o The Devil. s Groves. t Far-seen. z Inn, or public-house. c Annoying. d To keep off. g Grafted trees. i Liberty of pasture given to the Parker, 7 Cows. n Garden. f Meadows. m Strong. • Whitened, blanched. p Cumfrey, a favourite dish at that q Marygold, r Shutting. time. |