Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs | Page 2

Robert Bloomfield
any to which I have been witness, has taken place, to the universal
joy (it is to be hoped) of every inhabitant of Europe. My portion of joy
shall be expressed while it is warm: and the reader will do sufficient
justice, if he only believes it to be sincere.

October 10.
PEACE.
Halt! ye Legions, sheathe your Steel:
Blood grows precious; shed no
more:
Cease your toils; your wounds to heal
Lo! beams of Mercy
reach the shore!
From Realms of everlasting light
The favour'd
guest of Heaven is come:
Prostrate your Banners at the sight,
And
bear the glorious tidings home.
The plunging corpse with half-clos'd eyes,
No more shall stain th'
unconscious brine;
Yon pendant gay, that streaming flies,
Around
its idle Staff shall twine.
Behold! along th' etherial sky
Her beams
o'er conquering Navies spread;
Peace! Peace! the leaping Sailors cry,

With shouts that might arouse the dead.
Then forth Britannia's thunder pours;
A vast reiterated sound!
From
Line to Line the Cannon roars,
And spreads the blazing joy around.

Return, ye brave! your Country calls;
Return; return, your task is
done:
While here the tear of transport falls,
To grace your Laurels
nobly won.
Albion Cliffs--from age to age,
That bear the roaring storms of
Heav'n,
Did ever fiercer Warfare rage?
Was ever Peace more timely
given?
Wake! sounds of Joy: rouse, generous Isle;
Let every patriot
bosom glow.
Beauty, resume thy wonted smile,
And, Poverty, thy
cheerful brow.
Boast, Britain, of thy glorious Guests;
Peace, Wealth, and Commerce,
all thine own:
Still on contented Labour rests
The basis of a lasting
Throne.
Shout, Poverty! 'tis Heaven that saves;
Protected Wealth,
the chorus raise:
Ruler of War, of Winds, and Waves,
Accept a
prostrate Nation's praise.
ERRATA.

Page 28, line 1, for Mon_ read _Man.
56, 13, for thy_ read _my.
CONTENTS.
Richard and Kate: Ballad
Walter and Jane: a Tale
The Miller's
Maid: a Tale
The Widow to her Hour-Glass
Market-Night: Ballad

The Fakenham Ghost: Ballad
The French Mariner: Ballad
Dolly:
Ballad
A Visit to Whittlebury Forest
A Highland Drover: Song
A
Word to Two Young Ladies
On hearing of the Translation of the
Farmer's Boy
Nancy: Song
Rosy Hannah: Song
The Shepherd
and his Dog Rover: Song
Hunting Song
Lucy: Song
Winter Song
[Illustration]
RICHARD AND KATE: OR, FAIR-DAY.
A Suffolk Ballad.
'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel,
Sweep up your orts, and
get your Hat;
Old joys reviv'd once more I feel,
'Tis Fair-day;--ay,
and more than that.
The Deliberation.
'Have you forgot, Kate, prithee say,
'How many Seasons here we've
tarry'd?
'Tis Forty years, this very day,
'Since you and I, old Girl,
were married
'Look out;--the Sun shines warm and bright,
'The Stiles are low, the
paths all dry;
'I know you cut your corns last night:
'Come; be as
free from care as I.
'For I'm resolv'd once more to see
'That place where we so often met;

'Though few have had more cares than we,
'We've none just now to
make us fret.'

Kate scorn'd to damp the generous flame
That warm'd her aged
Partner's breast;
Yet, ere determination came,
She thus some trifling
doubts express'd.
Difficulties--Consent.
'Night will come on; when seated snug,
'And you've perhaps begun
some tale,
'Can you then leave your dear stone mug;
'Leave all the
folks, and all the Ale?'
'Ay, Kate, I wool;--because I know,
'Though time has been we both
could run,
'Such days are gone and over now;--
'I only mean to see
the fun.'
She straight slipp'd off the Wall and Band, [Terms used in spinning]
And laid aside her Lucks and Twitches:
And to the Hutch [a chest]
she reach'd her hand,
And gave him out his Sunday Breeches.
His Mattock he behind the door
And Hedging-gloves again replac'd;

And look'd across the yellow Moor,
And urg'd his tott'ring Spouse
to haste.
The Walk to the Fair.
The day was up, the air serene,
The Firmament without a cloud;

The Bee humm'd o'er the level green
Where knots of trembling
Cowslips bow'd.
And RICHARD thus, with heart elate,
As past things rush'd across his
mind,
Over his shoulder, talk'd to KATE,
Who snug tuckt up,
walk'd slow behind.
'When once a gigling Mawther you,
'And I a redfac'd chubby Boy,

'Sly tricks, you play'd me not a few;
'For mischief was your greatest
joy.

'Once, passing by this very Tree,
'A Gotch [pitcher] of Milk I'd been
to fill,
'You shoulder'd me; then laugh'd to see
'Me and my Gotch
spin down the Hill'
Discourse on past Days.
'Tis true,' she said; 'but here behold,
'And marvel at the course of
Time;
'Though you and I are both grown old,
'This Tree is only in
its prime!'
'Well, Goody, don't stand preaching now;
'Folks don't preach
Sermons at a FAIR:
'We've rear'd Ten Boys_ and _Girls you know;

'And I'll be bound they'll all be there.'
Now friendly nods and smiles had they,
From many a kind
Fair-going face:
And many a pinch KATE gave away;
While
RICHARD kept his usual pace.
At length arriv'd amidst the throng,
Grand-children bawling hem'd
them round;
And dragg'd them by the skirts along
Where
gingerbread bestrew'd the ground.
The Arrival.--Country Sports.
And soon the aged couple spy'd
Their lusty Sons_ and _Daughters
dear:
When RICHARD thus exulting cried,
'Did'nt I tell you they'd
be here?'
The cordial greetings of the soul
Were visible in every face;

Affection, void of all controul,
Govern'd
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