Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs | Page 3

with a resistless grace.
'Twas good to see the honest strife,
Which should contribute most to
please;
And hear the long-recounted life,
Of infant tricks, and
happy days.
But now, as at some nobler places,
Amongst the Leaders 'twas

decreed
Time to begin the DICKY RACES;
More fam'd for
laughter than for speed.
Recollections.
RICHARD look'd on with wond'rous glee,
And prais'd the Lad who
ehanc'd to win;
'KATE, wan't I such a one as he?
'As like him, ay,
as pin to pin?
'Full Fifty years are pass'd away
'Since I rode this same ground about:

'Lord! I was lively as the day!
'I won the High-lows out and out!
'I'm surely growing young again:
'I feel myself so kedge and plump.

'From head to foot I've not one pain;
'Nay, hang me if I cou'd 'nt
jump.'
Thus spoke the ALE in RICHARD'S pate,
A very little made him
mellow;
But still he lov'd his faithful KATE,
Who whisper'd thus,
'My good old fellow,
The Departure.
'Remember what you promis'd me:
'And see, the Sun is getting low;

'The Children want an hour ye see
'To talk a bit before we go.'
Like youthful Lover most complying
He turn'd, and chuckt her by the
chin:
Then all across the green grass hieing,
Right merry faces, all
akin,
Their farewell quart, beneath a
That droop'd its branches from above,

Awak'd the pure felicity
That waits upon PARENTAL LOVE.
KATE view'd her blooming Daughters round,
And Sons, who shook
her wither'd hand;
Her features spoke what joy she found;
But
utterance had made a stand.

An old Man's Joy.
The Children toppled on the green,
And bowl'd their fairings down
the hill;
Richard with pride beheld the scene,
Nor could he for his
life sit still.
A Father's uncheck'd feelings gave
A tenderness to all he said;
'My
Boys, how proud am I to have
'My name thus round the Country
spread!
'Through all my days I've labour'd hard,
'And could of pains and
Crosses tell;
'But this is Labour's great reward,
'To meet ye thus,
and see ye well.
'My good old Partner, when at home,
'Sometimes with wishes
mingles tears;
'Goody, says I, let what wool come,
'We've nothing
for them but our pray'rs.
Old Man's Joy continued.
'May you be all as old as I,
'And see you? Sons to manhood grow;

'And, many a time before you die,
'Be just as pleas'd as I am now.'
Then, (raising still his Mug and Voice,)
'An Old Man's weakness
don't despise!
'I love you well, my Girls and Boys;
'GOD bless you
all;'--so said his eyes----
For, as he spoke, a big round drop
Fell bounding on his ample sleeve;

A witness which he could not stop,
A witness which all hearts
believe.
Thou, FILIAL PIETY, wert there;
And round the ring, benignly
bright,
Dwelt in the luscious half-shed tear,
And in the parting
word--Good Night.
The Return home.

With thankful Hearts and strengthen'd Love,
The poor old PAIR,
supremely blest,
Saw the Sun sink behind the grove,
And gain'd
once more their lowly rest.
[Illustration]
WALTER AND JANE: or, THE POOR BLACKSMITH.
A Country Tale.
Bright was the summer sky, the Mornings gay,
And Jane was young
and chearful as the Day.
Not yet to Love but Mirth she paid her vows;

And Echo mock'd her as she call'd her Cows.
Tufts of green Broom,
that full in blossom vied,
And grac'd with spotted gold the upland
side,
The level fogs o'erlook'd; too high to share;
So lovely JANE
o'erlook'd the clouds of Care;
Jane.
No meadow-flow'r rose fresher to the view,
That met her morning
footsteps in the dew;
Where, if a nodding stranger ey'd her charms,

The blush of innocence was up in arms,
Love's random glances struck
the unguarded mind,
And Beauty's magic made him look behind.

Duly as morning blush'd or twilight came,
Secure of greeting smiles
and Village fame,
She pass'd the Straw-roof'd Shed, in ranges where

Hung many a well-turn'd Shoe and glitt'ring Share;
Where
WALTER, as the charmer tripp'd along,
Would stop his roaring
Bellows and his Song.--
Dawn of affection; Love's delicious sigh!

Caught from the lightnings of a speaking eye,
That leads the heart to
rapture or to woe,
'Twas WALTER'S fate thy mad'ning power to
know;
And scarce to know, ere in its infant twine,
As the Blast
shakes the tendrils of the Vine,
The Separation.
The budding bliss that full of promise grew
The chilling blight of

separation knew.
Scarce had he told his heart's unquiet case,
And
JANE to shun him ceas'd to mend her pace,
And learnt to listen
trembling as he spoke,
And fondly judge his words beyond a joke;

When, at the Goal that bounds our prospects here,
Jane's widow'd
Mistress ended her career:
Blessings attended her divided store,
The
Mansion sold, (Jane's peaceful home no more,)
A distant Village
own'd her for its Queen,
Another service, and another scene;
But
could another scene so pleasing prove,
Twelve weary miles from
Walter and from Love?
The Maid grew thoughtful: yet to Fate
resign'd,
Knew not the worth of what she left behind.
He, when at
Eve releas'd from toil and heat,
Soon miss'd the smiles that taught his
heart to beat,
The Lover's-Journey.
Each sabbath-day of late was wont to prove
Hope's liberal feast, the
holiday of Love:
But now, upon his spirit's ebbing strength
Came
each