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 SCATTERED LEAVES. 
 
 JAMES A. PAGE, 
 
 A SCHOLAR OF BOTELER'S TREE GRAMMAR SCHOOL. 
 
 Idcirco ne vager scribamque liceuter, ut omnes 
 Visuros peccata putem rata, tutus tt iutra 
 Spem veuiie cautus. Yitavi denique eulpam, 
 Nou laudem merui. 
 
 Hor: De Arte Poet: 2G5 
 
 PRINTED BY J. HADDOCK, 
 

TO 
 
 The Right Honorable 
 
 THE EARJ. OF STAMFORD AND WARRINGTON, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE OTHER TRUSTEES. 
 
 AND TO 
 
 THE REV. THOMAS VERE BAYNE, B. C. L. 
 
 HEAD -MASTER OF 
 
 BOTELERS FREE GRAMMAR SCHOOL 
 
 IN 
 
 WARRINGTON, 
 
 This Volume, 
 with sentiments of gratitude for personal 
 
 benefits derived from that foundation, 
 is resfectfully inscribed by 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Author of these pages, disclaiming that 
 hacknicd plea of juvenile publishers, the advice and 
 importunity of his friends, must be content to bear in 
 his own person, the whole weight of praise or blame 
 that may be due to the step he has taken ; and he has 
 only to entreat his readers to extend to him the latter 
 in no larger measure than he fears he shall obtain the 
 former. 
 
 His apology for publishing this volume of early 
 poems, the production of his hours of leisure at school, 
 must partake of that well known excuse of Byron, that 
 
 " Tis pleasant too to sec one's name in print," 
 
 which, whether his productions merit perusal or not, 
 
6 
 
 will give him the satisfaction of knowing that he has 
 published a book, and that, as the same poet continues 
 
 " A book's a book, althw' there's nothing in't.'' 
 
 Whatever may be the critic's judgment as to its literary 
 merits, should he deign to cast an eye upon this book, 
 the author feels assured that he has not knowingly 
 injured the cause of religion, morality, and virtue, 
 or deserved, what he should dread more than any 
 critical offence, the censure of a good man's frown. 
 
 BATH BUILDINGS. 
 
 Warrington, 1839. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page- 
 
 Knowledge 9 
 
 Paraphrase 39 
 
 The Autumn 45 
 
 Night 47 
 
 Old Year 49 
 
 What is Hope? 51 
 
 The invincible Hand 53 
 
 Fall of Babylon 55 
 
 The Day Fly 58 
 
 The Soldier's Wife 60 
 
 A Charade 63 
 
 Napoleon Buonaparte 65 
 
 Elegy 57 
 
 Hymn for Christmas 69 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Impromptu 71 
 
 Hymn foe Good Friday 72 
 
 Elegy 74 
 
 Paraphrase 76 
 
 To the Sun 79 
 
 A Comparison 81 
 
 Elegy 84 
 
 The Destruction of Sodom 87 
 
 To the Moon 90 
 
 To the Atheist 93 
 
 To the Deity 97 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Eternal God! fair Wisdom's sire^-divine, 
 O prosper thou my work, inspire my line ! 
 Thee I invoke, thou mighty King of Kings, 
 Thee, the deep fountain whence all Knowledge springs 
 O let one stream flow from that heav'nly source ! 
 One stream to guide me in my arduous course ; 
 To sing of Knowledge were an useless chase 
 Without the aid of Thy directing grace : 
 Thine, who didst teach great Moses' hallow'd pen 
 To publish forth the works of Heav'n to men ; 
 How vast Creation rose from empty night, 
 When God said " Be there light," and there was light, 
 How man by fatal disobedience fell, 
 And open'd wide the pond'rous gates of Hell : 
 B 
 
10 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Thine, who didst fire the Prophet's sacred mind 
 To sing of peace, " good-will to all mankind," 
 When heav'n's great Lord should mingle with the dead, 
 And dying bruise the Tempter's wily head. 
 
 dare I hope that thou would'st gracious be ! 
 And grant one spark of heav'nly fire to me, 
 That Thou would'st favour with thy pow'r divine, 
 
 1 ask no help, I hope no aid, but thine. 
 
 When we survey Creation's mighty space, 
 What marks of Wisdom infinite we trace, 
 What wonder seizes on th' admiring soul, 
 What gratitude to him who form'd the whole. 
 Look on th' unfathom'd Ocean's wide expanse, 
 See wave on wave with ruffled front advance, 
 List to that hollow, murm'ring, mighty roar 
 Of reckless billows breaking on the shore ; 
 Then from the boundless deep avert your sight, 
 And turn your eyes to yon blest realms of light, 
 Where radiant Sol displays his beams divine, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 11 
 
 Which shine abroad, and quicken as they shine. 
 Again, when Night has spread her sable reign, 
 Survey the wonders of th' etherial plain, 
 Where myriad suns in even courses roll, 
 And spread their distant lustre o'er the pole. 
 If farther yet we lift th' enquiring mind, 
 There other suns and planets we may find, 
 And higher still unnumber'd systems trace, 
 Spread thro' the vast immensity of space. 
 Again to earth direct your wond'ring eyes, 
 From Nature's works see equal beauties rise, 
 Here, the huge mountain lifts his awful head, 
 Vast, inaccessible to human tread, 
 Where bearded goats in sportive gambols play, 
 And the proud eagle tempts the god of day ; 
 There, threatening rocks the tempest's rage defy, 
 And lift their massive summits to the sky. 
 In ev'ry leaf which flutters to the wind, 
 A thousand varied beauties we may find, 
 And in those beauties other wonders shine, 
 
12 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 To prove the architecture is divine. 
 
 O wondrous Power ! O Wisdom vast, immense ! 
 
 O might supreme, surpassing mortal sense ! 
 
 Survey, and in the transport of thy soul 
 
 Cry " Wisdom infinite has form'd the whole." 
 
 Knowledge my theme, 1 should ungrateful be, 
 Albion ! my native land, forgetting thee, 
 Thee, the blest country preordain'd by fate, 
 To be the nurse of sages wise and great : 
 In thy fair realms bright Knowledge spreads her sway, 
 And fires thy children with her heav'nly ray : 
 What trains of sages, bards, and heroes rise 
 Before th' astonish'd mem'ry's wond'ring eyes. 
 See giant Milton, Shakespeare, Nelson stand 
 In Fame's proud dome, a bright and glorious band, 
 With thousand bards, who rous'd by Wisdom's fire, 
 O'er themes untouch'd provok'd the silent lyre ; 
 With thousand heroes too who fought and died, 
 Fell for their country, by their country's side. 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 13 
 
 Hnil favour 'd land ! what loveliness we sec, 
 
 What scenes of grandeur, happiness, in thee : 
 
 Here, the rich valley spreads its fertile plains, 
 
 Beside some niould'ring abbey's rude remains, 
 
 O'er whose decaying, antiquated walls 
 
 The mantling moss and sportive ivy crawls, 
 
 While glorious Sol, retiring to his rest, 
 
 Casts a long shadow from the glowing west : 
 
 There, the bright riv'let gliding thro' the dell 
 
 Winds its long course mid dingle, rock, and fell, 
 
 While beauteous trees, impending o'er the stream, 
 
 Present the picture of a fairy dream. 
 
 Let proud Italians boast their cloudless sky, 
 
 Thy charms sweet England ! may their boast defy ; 
 
 Here no Volcano spouts in fatal ire, 
 
 And devastates the land with liquid fire ; 
 
 No yaw r ning earthquake opes his dire profound, 
 
 To spread destruction and dismay around, 
 
 No wild Sirocco sweeps the verdant plain, 
 
 With sultry heat to blight the rip'ning grain ; 
 
14 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 But hardy toil receives a due reward, 
 And reaps the crop his labour has prepar'd. 
 No land, great England ! can compare with thee, 
 Thou home of learning and prosperity ! 
 
 Thrice blest the country where religion sways 
 And sheds around her soul-enlight'ning rays, 
 Happy the people of that favour'd land, 
 Where Christianity has made her stand, 
 Then happy Britons ! since its your's to know 
 The sweets, which from her myriad sources flow, 
 But turn your eyes to that unhallow'd sod, 
 Whose children never knew the living God, 
 Whose senseless idols form'd of wood and stone 
 Receive the homage due to him alone ; 
 Where fertile India's spicy forests lie, 
 And Thibet's awful mountains threat the sky, 
 Where wild Arabia fam'd for warlike bands, 
 And desert Afric spread their thirsty sands ; 
 There too the lovely scenes of Nature rise 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 15 
 
 In all their splendour to th' admiring eyes, 
 
 There too bright Phoebus' rays resplendent shine, 
 
 And distant planets form'd by hands divine ; 
 
 But the great Lord of Ocean, Earth, and Air 
 
 Is there unknown, He is not worshipp'd there : 
 
 To lifeless Brahma all their vows are paid, 
 
 Or false Mahomet's falser laws obey'd. 
 
 And can it be that man so grandly made, 
 
 Will thus his noble faculties degrade ! 
 
 That man, the perfect image of his Lord, 
 
 Can be a slave so abject, so abhorr'd, 
 
 He, whom great Heav'n has form'd to be a King, 
 
 O'er beast, o'er bird, and ev'ry creeping thing, 
 
 Be meaner than the subject of his sway, 
 
 In worshipping a god more mean than they ! 
 
 Alas ! it can : dark Superstition's shade, 
 
 O'er myriad souls his mantling gloom has laid ; 
 
 Idolatry's impenetrable night • 
 
 Spreads a thick veil before the Heathen's sight, 
 
 Lest the bright beams of Knowledge should unfold 
 
1.6 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Those treasures dearer than the purest gold. 
 But shall a father ever take delight 
 To see his children perish in his sight. ? 
 Shall God abandon to his blinded will 
 The proud Mahometan, and Heathen still ? 
 No ! the bright rays of Scripture shine from far, 
 And Christianity's refulgent star : 
 See Truth's great angel wave her magic wand, 
 And fold her pinions o'er yon Pagan land, 
 Prepar'd to stoop upon th' unhallow'd sod, 
 And teach her sons the true, the only God. 
 See Albion send her messengers of peace, 
 To bid Idolatry's false visions cease : 
 Those holy men with Christian pleasure go 
 To distant regions of eternal snow, 
 Or steer their joyful course to torrid lands, 
 To Afric's deserts, and Arabia's sands, 
 With gladsome tidings of redemption's plan, 
 And heav'n in store for undeserving man. 
 O Thou for whom their labours are begun, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 17 
 
 Be Thou their guiding star, their genial sun ; 
 O pour thy quick'ning spirit on their mind! 
 Make them unceasing, to their toils resign'd. 
 Do thou the haughty Infidel incline 
 To search for light in Scripture's plenteous mine, 
 And may he find, as Gospel truths unrol, 
 Conversion to his unbelieving soul. 
 Oh haste that glorious, that expected day ! 
 When thy lost flocks no more shall go astray, 
 When Heathen, Infidel, and stubborn Jew- 
 Shall seek a heav'n, and own a Saviour too, 
 When India's shores, and Britain's favour'd isle 
 Shall see the light of thy blest kingdom smile. 
 As, when the heavens with murky clouds are spread, 
 And misty vapours overhang the head, 
 When drizzling rain descends upon the ground, 
 And rolling winds pass by with sullen sound ; 
 The bright effulgence of the god of day 
 Breaks thro' the gloom with cloud-dispelling ray, 
 c 
 
18 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Bids the thick vapours from his presence fly, 
 Till he remains sole master of the sky ; 
 Lord ! let thy Gospel's glory so break forth, 
 And spread from east to west, from south to north, 
 Let Superstition's clouds its presence flee, 
 And ev'ry nation bow the head to thee; 
 Till Scripture's glorious banner is unfurl'd, 
 And waves triumphant o'er the heathen world ! 
 
 Inestimable Bible ! book divine ! 
 What great unrivall'd excellence is thine ! 
 In ev'ry page fair Knowledge meets our view, 
 Knowledge as true as God himself is true. 
 In thee we learn how Heav'n and Earth were made, 
 And mighty Ocean's spacious bound'ries laid, 
 How first th' almighty Sov'reign of the skies 
 From nothing bade an universe arise ; 
 Bade yon bright sun to shed his beams divine, 
 Yon silv'ry moon o'er heav'n's expanse to shine, 
 And form'd those twinkling orbs with orient light, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 19 
 
 As diamonds spangled o'er the robe of night ; 
 How beast and insect, reptile, fish, and bird 
 Sprang into life at his creating word, 
 And man, great man, the pow'rful lord of all, 
 Obey'd his mighty Maker's quick'ning call ; 
 How first he fell, and in that fatal fall 
 Brought an avenging interdict on all, 
 But in that curse a bounteous promise shone, 
 Bought by the blood of God's begotten Son. 
 In thy blest page we read how years roll'd by, 
 And holy men foretold Messiah nigh, 
 How Satan trembled at the fatal hour, 
 When God incarnate should destroy his pow'r ; 
 How Christ appear'd, was taunted and defied, 
 And how for man's transgressions crucified ; — 
 (Oh wondrous love ! t'ordain so great a cost 
 To gain for man the glories he had lost ! ) 
 Hail blessed book to erring mortals giv'n 
 To guide them in the narrow way to heav'n ! 
 
20 
 
 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 How shall my tongue find language to express 
 Thy form, Religion ! and thy mightiness ? 
 How shall a mortal dare to handle thee, 
 Thou brilliant star of immortality ! 
 In vain the mind attempts thy pow'r to scan, 
 Thou present friend of ever-erring man ! 
 Were I to tell the blessings which attend 
 On him, who makes of thee a constant friend, 
 Were I to write the graces which adorn 
 Thy comely features ; tho' the orient morn 
 E'en now comes dancing forth with genial light, 
 The sober shadows of returning night 
 Would find me at my task, were I to tell 
 The thousand charms that in thy person dwell ; 
 Were I to sing how Truth and Meekness shine, 
 How Charity attends with smiles divine, 
 How Faith and Hope employ their charms on thee, 
 While Pow'r combines with meek Humility. 
 Let fancy view thy bearing, when afar 
 Thy armies march to wage successful war ; 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 21 
 
 How bold thy mien thy step how firm and true, 
 Thy hand how mighty, form'd but to subdue ! 
 As on far India's dark, tho' fertile sod 
 Thy lips proclaim a great and glorious God. 
 Thou art a warrior whom no dangers fright, 
 No toils can stay, no pow'r oppose thy might ; 
 Oh conquer still ! Heav'n speed thy gallant arms! 
 And guard thee still secure from all alarms ! 
 Till ev'ry nation owns thy mighty sway, 
 And Heathen darkness yields to Christian day. 
 Tho' Job of old by various ills opprest 
 In vain essay'd his tortur'd limbs to rest, 
 Tho' all the vast possessions, which before 
 He call'd his own, were now his own no more ; 
 Upheld by thee with meekness he could say 
 " The Lord hath giv'n and let him take away." 
 Tho' sunk into the lowest depths of woe, 
 He felt the sweets thy presence can bestow, 
 With resignation bore the chast'ning rod, 
 Nor would unjustly charge the living God. 
 
22 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 E'en now each Christian feels thy pleasing pow'r, 
 And proves thy comforts in affliction's hour, 
 Thy presence cheers him while he draws his breath, 
 And guides him safely thro' the vale of Death. 
 
 I saw before me on a hidden rock, 
 Which from eternity had stood the shock 
 Of raging waves, a tow'r which seem'd to be 
 Built there to guide the mariners at sea : 
 I saw therein a clear resplendent light, 
 Which pierc'd the sombre mantle of the night. 
 This then methought brings knowledge to my mind, 
 And here an apt resemblance I can find. 
 This tow'r is built to be the sailors guide, 
 And point his course o'er Ocean's swelling tide, 
 And seems to cry to mariners, " Beware ! 
 Avoid the track, for hidden rocks lie here ! " 
 So Knowledge too directs the sinner's way, 
 And guides him in his course with friendly ray, 
 So Knowledge tells the rocks in life's dark sea, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 23 
 
 And shews the sailor where his course should be. 
 But as without that clear revolving light, 
 The tow'r itself were darksome as the night, 
 So Knowledge, if Religion's vital ray } 
 
 Desert her side, becomes a mass of clay, > 
 Nor serves to guide a sinner in the way, ) 
 Too oft becomes a stumbling block, nay worse, 
 Without Religion often proves a curse. 
 
 When ancient Greece in all her splendour reign'd, 
 E'er the fierce Roman had her shores distain'd, 
 When Delphi's temple honour'd far and wide, 
 Gave dire responses not to be denied, 
 Above that temple's gate you might behold 
 These words describ'd in characters of gold, 
 " Know thou thyself! " a maxim great and wise 
 And one the Christian never should despise ; 
 " Know thou thyself! " — explore each inward part, 
 And dive into the caverns of thy heart ; 
 And as th' anatomist with searching eye 
 
24 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Each hidden beauty labours to descry, 
 
 So search thy inmost soul, each thought lay bare, 
 
 Examine each with strict unweary'd care, 
 
 And with the aid of Scripture's piercing glass 
 
 Allow no hope, no fear, no wish to pass. 
 
 But, tho' th' anatomist can always see 
 
 Some beauteous features in mortality, 
 
 Methinks if man search his immortal part, 
 
 And thoroughly anatomize his heart, 
 
 Such hideous forms would meet his visage there, 
 
 That he were loth to lay its contents bare. 
 
 There he would find in all their horrors drest 
 
 The fiends of Hell, which haunt the human breast, 
 
 There Hatred and Revenge would meet his view, 
 
 And Pride would shew his scornful features too ; 
 
 With all the evil passions which began, 
 
 When Adam fell, to haunt the breast of man. 
 
 While from her mansion Innocence has fled, 
 
 Nor finds a shelter for her weary head. 
 
 " Know thou thyself! " — the structure of thy frame, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 25 
 
 And whence by Wisdom form'd that structure came ; 
 For " dust thou art! " then let not swelling Pride 
 Boast of those faculties to brutes denied. 
 Tho' blest with all the mightiness of thought, 
 Esteem thyself, and all thy pow'rs as naught, 
 Those pow'rs are not thine own, they are not giv'n, 
 But kindly lent by all indulgent Heav'n. 
 
 Pride ! thou black fiend, what language can express 
 Thy haughty features, and thy gorgeous dress ! 
 Well may'st thou lift aloft thy pompous head, 
 For o'er this mighty world thy sway is spread. 
 If we should pass from Afric's utmost bound, 
 To where Siberia's wintry blasts resound, 
 Where'er we turn our course we still shall find 
 Thy influence working on the human mind. 
 Whether in savage, or in cultur'd state, 
 The rich, and poor, the lowly, and the great, 
 The beggar, and the monarch we may see 
 Pay their allegiance willingly to thee. 
 D 
 
26 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Some few there are who murmur at thy sway. 
 
 But have pow'r to cast thy yoke away ; 
 
 Some fewer still, and scarcely to be found, 
 
 Who hurl thy chains of bondage to the ground ; 
 
 But these are drops compar'd with yon vast sea, 
 
 These are as moments to eternity. 
 
 Christians ! beware lest pride your bosoms swell, 
 
 Nor pride alone but all the fiends of Hell J 
 
 In Heav'n's impenetrable arms array'd, 
 
 With Faith's broad shield courageously displayed, 
 
 Resist the tempter's wiles, a war begin, 
 
 With all the principalities of sin. 
 
 Let wise astronomers with ardent eye 
 Gaze on the countless grandeurs of the sky, 
 Let them with mind intent on distant spheres, 
 Employ the moments of their fleeting years ; 
 Let learn'd Philosophers attempt to scan 
 The thousand wonders of Creation's plan, 
 With earnest language, and with look profound , 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 27 
 
 Describe the source and properties of sound, 
 Set Nature's laws before their wond'ring eye, 
 And each strange movement labour to descry : 
 Sweet must it be to see Creation rise 
 In all her grandeur to th' astonish'd eyes, 
 (For do we look upon the lofty pine, 
 Or on the primrose, and the eglantine, 
 Whether the lowly hillock we survey, 
 Or Alpine hills which threat the god of day. 
 If from the pebble, to the mighty rock, 
 Which lifts his head against the tempest's shock, 
 If from the streamlets on the mountain's side, 
 We turn to mighty Ocean's swelling tide, 
 Ten thousand varied wonders meet our view, 
 And strike our souls with admiration too.) 
 But sweeter and more soul-enrapturing far 
 The sacred truths of Scripture Knowledge are, 
 Sweeter to read a Saviour's suff 'rings there, 
 His griefs, his patient agony, his prayer ; 
 To read that He, the Ruler of the skies, 
 
28 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Bow'd to the insults of his enemies ; 
 That he, whom fallen man had disobey'd, 
 The forfeit of his life for man has paid, 
 And ris'n again, that mortals too may rise 
 To live with him for ever in the skies. 
 
 And here again I make my earnest cry, 
 For ev'ry victim of Idolatry : 
 Lord I as they ne'er have heard of heav'n or Thee, 
 From punishment eternal set them free, 
 And send thy Gospel's cloud-dispelling light, 
 To beam o'er realms of Superstitious night : 
 E'en now the morning dawn appears to rise, 
 And spreads a feeble lustre o'er the skies, 
 Lord ! let thy Spirit spread the vital ray, 
 Till night is lost in clear refulgent day ! 
 Without Thy pow'r divine, Thy prosp'ring aid, 
 The new foundation fruitlessly is laid ; 
 In vain the wand'ring minister of God, 
 On Afric's desert makes his drear abode, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 29 
 
 The seeds of Christian truth are sown in vain, 
 
 On distant India's dark, benighted plain : 
 
 For Paul may plant the soul-enlight'ning seed, 
 
 Apollos may with living waters feed, 
 
 But Thou must give the increase, Thou must give 
 
 Thy fost'ring aid to bid the sapling live, 
 
 Thy hand must fertilize the barren soil, 
 
 Or vain for Paul to sow, Apollos toil. 
 
 And you, ye rich ! who wallow in your gold, 
 
 You, who would wish to be of Sion's fold, 
 
 You, who of Christian names and feelings boast, 
 
 Let not the Heathen be for ever lost ! 
 
 Shew that you love a Christian's joy to feel, 
 
 Shew that you glory in a brother's weal, 
 
 And from your coffers fill'd with precious ore 
 
 Bestow a mite the wand'rer to restore. 
 
 He that with willing bounty doth afford 
 
 Help to the needy, lendeth to the Lord, 
 
 And He with tenfold int'rest will repay 
 
 Whate'er he borrows, at th' appointed day. 
 
30 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 And shall a man by Christ redeem'd, restor'd, 
 
 Refuse to lend a trifle to his Lord ? 
 
 Shall man, for whom his Sov'reign's blood was shed, 
 
 For whom a God was number'd with the dead, 
 
 Shall he, to whom his life, his all was giv'n, ' 
 
 Refuse a small return to bounteous Heav'n ? 
 
 Will he refuse a trifling boon to give, 
 
 That wretched Infidels may learn and live ? 
 
 Ye wealthy Britons ! can it e'er be true 
 
 An affirmation is return'd by you ? 
 
 That you, the great, the glorious, and the good 
 
 Affirm you value not a Saviour's blood, 
 
 And shut your ears against the earnest cry 
 
 Of those who plead for Christianity ? 
 
 No ! Britons ! No ! it shall not e'er be said 
 
 That Charity from English hearts has fled. 
 
 No ! open wide your coffers to expand 
 
 The light of Scripture o'er each Pagan land. 
 
 Nor less, ye poor ! these words apply to you, 
 
 You, who of worldly riches have but few, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 31 
 
 Tho' no superfluous wealth is your's to give, 
 
 The suff'rings of your brethren to relieve, 
 
 Have you no pray'rs to offer at the throne 
 
 Of him, who listens to the suppliant's moan? 
 
 Who once declar'd the poor man's earnest pray'r 
 
 Should rise to heav'n, and find an answer there ? 
 
 Then can you e'er refuse to make your cry, 
 
 To supplicate the Majesty on high, 
 
 That He will cause the Heathen to believe 
 
 The truths of Scripture, that his soul may live ; 
 
 Till all who dwell on this terrestrial sod, 
 
 Shall worship him, the true, the only God ? 
 
 No ! let not list'ning Mercy wait in vain 
 
 To hear the suppliant pray'r's emphatic strain, 
 
 No ! thousand supplications shall arise, 
 
 On soaring pinions to the azure skies, 
 
 To him, the Sov'reign Lord, the King of men ; 
 
 And thousand tongues re-echo loud — Amen ! 
 
 Sad is the thought, that in this Christian land 
 
32 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Dark Superstition still maintains his stand ! 
 We need not weep for Afric's distant sphere, 
 But o'er our own dear country shed the tear ; 
 The missionary need no farther roam, 
 He finds the haughty Infidel at home, 
 The Atheist, and the Deist here he finds, 
 With self-will'd spirits and unwakcn'd minds. 
 Atheist ! — that name by Scripture's sacred rule 
 Befits no other than the blinded fool ; 
 For can the mind without emotion scan 
 The wondrous workmanship of Nature's plan, 
 Can man survey the wonders which arise, 
 In Earth, in Ocean, in the azure skies ; 
 Nay, can he but his mighty self survey, 
 And not in wonder and amazement say 
 " There is a God ! in all a God I see, 
 Who is, and was from all eternity." 
 
 There are, who search the ways of Heav'n to scan, 
 And judge His dealings with His creature, man, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 33 
 
 Who, while poor Virtue seeks to rest her head, 
 Some wintry night, upon a heather bed, 
 See Vice upon a downy couch reclin'd, 
 And feel resentment glowing in their mind, 
 Ah foolish mortals ! can your feeble eyes 
 Pierce thro' the veil of Heav'n's great mysteries ? 
 His ways are just, whate'er they seem to be, 
 He is a God of Truth and Equity. 
 Again, there are who never will believe 
 But what their comprehension can receive ; 
 If they are told that God in every place 
 The secret deeds of sinful men can trace, 
 That while in Heav'n, on earth is present still, 
 To order all things by his sov'reign will ; 
 That while on Albion's shore his spirit stands, 
 He still is present on Arabia's sands ; 
 Their finite reason madly strains her eye, 
 To comprehend this mighty mystery ; 
 And when the maze of reason they have trod, 
 And trod in vain, they doubt the pow'r of God. 
 E 
 
34 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Oh fools, and blind ! can one bereft of sight 
 Describe the splendour of the noonday light, 
 Can ye describe the God of earth and sky, 
 His pow'r, his attributes, his majesty ? 
 No ! Knowledge here is weak, her pow'r extends 
 To all but Deity, and there it ends. 
 
 But what is Knowledge ? — Let the sinner say, 
 Who erst has found the strait and narrow way, 
 Who once the paths of guilt, and sorrow trod, 
 And now enjoys the blissful " Peace of God." 
 Let him inform you, how by sin opprest, 
 His tortur'd mind in vain essay 'd to rest, 
 Till heav'n sent Knowledge came to cheer his soul 
 And make the sufF'rer's wounded conscience whole. 
 Came to instruct him where to seek for grace, 
 From Christ, the Saviour of his fallen race. 
 But what is Knowledge? — Let the Heathen tell, 
 Who erst was bound with Superstition's spell, 
 Who knew not God, but alljris off'rings paid, 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 35 
 
 To senseless images by mortals made, 
 
 Who had no Scripture light to cheer his way, 
 
 Or point his path to everlasting day. 
 
 Ask him of Knowledge, and his words will be, 
 
 " She is almighty, all in all to me." 
 
 What thoughts soe'er are working in the mind, 
 Revengeful, mild, malevolent, or kind, 
 Are seen by Him, whose penetrating sight 
 Can pierce the darkness of the thickest night : 
 Of Knowledge he is God, to Him alone 
 The secret thought, the secret deed is known, 
 Tremble thou wretch ! who in the midnight shade 
 Dost stand prepar'd to wield th' assassin blade, 
 Tho' nature sleeps, and all around is still, 
 Save the low murm'ring of the distant rill, 
 Tho' none appears thy cursed deed to see, 
 Save the lone night-bird in the rustling tree, 
 Yet One surveys thee with an awful frown, 
 And stands prepar'd to write the action down 
 
36 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 For that great day, when trembling thou shalt look, 
 
 And see the deed in Heav'n's recording book, 
 
 Shalt see thyself among th' accursed stand, 
 
 And hear thy Judge pronounce the dread command, 
 
 " Depart ye wicked ! from my presence go, 
 
 To dwell in regions of eternal woe ! " 
 
 Rejoice thou sinner ! who with bended knee 
 
 Dost ask forgiveness for thy sins and thee, 
 
 Thy God beholds thy heav'n-directed eye, 
 
 He hears thy pray'r, thy penitential cry, 
 
 Thy heart he knows, thy off'ring he receives, 
 
 And all thy past offences he forgives ; 
 
 He takes the record of thy sins away, 
 
 And leaves thee spotless for the judgment day, 
 
 When thou shalt boldly stand, thro' him, who dy'd 
 
 To bring the wand'ring sinner to his side, 
 
 Shalt boldly stand, secure from anxious fear, 
 
 The proclamation of thy fate to hear, 
 
 " Come all ye blessed to my father's throne, 
 
 Possess the realms prepar'd for you alone ! " 
 
KNOWLEDGE. 37 
 
 Let not the finite pow'rs of mortal man 
 Presume the secrets of those realms to scan, 
 The splendour of the mansions in the skies 
 Is far too brilliant for a mortal's eyes ; 
 Man hath not known, nor will he ever know, 
 While in this gloomy vale of tears below, 
 Nor hath the mind attempted to conceive, 
 What recompense the righteous shall receive, 
 But, when with outstretch'd pinions we shall rise, 
 To join the blissful concert of the skies, 
 These unknown realms shall burst upon the sight, 
 Replete with joy with happiness and light; 
 There, and there only, will the Christian know 
 The great rewards a Saviour can bestow ; 
 There, and there only will the Lord of might, 
 Stand forth reveal'd before his wond'ring sight. 
 
 Here must I pause — But ere I close my song 
 My thanks to that Almighty Pow'r belong, 
 Whose aid I call'd to favour my design, 
 
38 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Eternal God ! my loudest praise be thine ! 
 And oh ! whate'er my future prospects be, 
 Teach me to place my trust alone on thee, 
 Grant me to know the knowledge that I teach, 
 And bless my humble lay to all and each. 
 
PARAPHRASE 
 
 On ciii. Psalm. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE AUTHOR'S 14TH TEAR. 
 
 Mr grateful soul ! bless thou the Lord !- 
 Let all thy pow'rs with one accord 
 Unite to praise his holy name, 
 To spread his everlasting fame. 
 Forget not what his bounty gives, 
 In whom alone thy spirit lives, 
 Who guards thee safe from ev'ry ill, 
 And doth thy cup with gladness fill. 
 
 When death and dangers circle round, 
 Thy feet he sets on safety's ground ; 
 And when destruction round thee burns, 
 The scorching flame aside he turns ; 
 
40 PARAPHRASE, &C. 
 
 With tender mercy crowns thy days, 
 And leads thy feet thro' pleasant ways, 
 With loving-kindness wreaths thy brows, 
 And round thy head his glory throws. 
 
 When pinching want, and sore distress, 
 And rankling care by turns oppress, 
 The Lord a ready succour brings, 
 And leads thee forth to living springs ; 
 And as the eagle perch'd on high, 
 That scorns the splendours of the sky, 
 So thou shalt feel thy youth renew'd, 
 And strengthen'd by thy heav'nly food. 
 
 The Lord with might protects the poor 
 And brings them near to mercy's door, 
 On all their foes his wrath will send, 
 But thrice will bless the poor man's friend. 
 He guided Israel by his hand, 
 From bondage in a foreign land, 
 
PARAPHRASE, &C. 
 
 In cloud, and flame, he mov'd before, 
 And brought them safe to Canaan's shore. 
 
 His hands supplied with plenteous love 
 Shower down his mercies from above ; 
 His anger falls with tardy pace, 
 But quickly comes his saving grace. 
 Our faults he graciously forgives, 
 Our supplications he receives, 
 With list'ning ear attends our pray'r, 
 And cheers our souls in ev'ry care. 
 
 As yonder spangled heav'n on high, 
 Outspreads its glitt'ring canopy, 
 So He his saving grace will spread, 
 Upon his faithful servant's head. 
 As far as from the Eastern skies, 
 To where the ev'ning shadows rise, 
 So far from us his pard'ning love, 
 Doth all our wickedness remove. 
 F 
 
42 PARAPHRASE, &C. 
 
 To be our father he delights, 
 
 With conqu'ring arm our battle fights ; 
 
 From him, as children, we receive 
 
 The bounties he alone can give. 
 
 He sees our cares, our weakness knows, 
 
 And guards us from insulting foes, 
 
 He knows that man is fragil dust, 
 
 And bids him in his Maker trust. 
 
 Poor man is as the short-liv'd grass, 
 In silent haste his moments pass; 
 Or as a bright, and beauteous flow'r, 
 That lives and dies in one short hour. 
 The wind blows o'er, the flow'ret dies, 
 And on the ground forgotten lies ; 
 So man, his earthly journey o'er, 
 Returns to dust to bloom no more. 
 
 But God's eternal love shall stand, 
 When heav'n dissolves by his command, 
 
PARAPHRASE, <$CC. 43 
 
 To children's children shall descend, 
 Unbounded, and without an end. 
 Tho' Earth and Ocean pass away, 
 His truth shall never see decay, 
 And those who in his laws delight, 
 He will with tenfold joys requite. 
 
 Above the heav'ns the Lord prepares 
 His kingdom, and his sceptre rears,. 
 His mighty throne is built on high, 
 Fix'd on the arches of the sky : 
 Tis there he sits in pow'r array 'd, 
 And views the works his hands have made ; 
 There at his feet his angels fall, 
 And hail their Lord the King of all. 
 
 Bless ye the Lord ! ye Spirits bright 1 
 Ye who excel in heav'nly might, 
 Who do his will, obey his voice, 
 And in his dread commands rejoice. 
 
44 PARAPHRASE, &C. 
 
 Bless ye the Lord ! ye hosts divine ! 
 To laud his name in chorus join, 
 Ye angels fair ! who do his will, 
 Let not a heav'nly harp be still ! 
 
 Bless ye the Lord ! your Maker bless 
 All ye his works ! his pow'r confess, 
 Let all the circling heav'ns around, 
 Let hill and dale his praise resound ; 
 Let harps and cymbals sound his praise, 
 And trumpet's voice its echoes raise, 
 Let all unite with one accord, 
 And thou my soul ! — bless thou the Lord. 
 
THE AUTUMN, 1838. 
 
 Hence anxious fears ! behold yon azure sky 
 Ulumin'd by the sun's refnlgent ray, 
 As on his golden car he mounts on high, 
 The bright companion of a glorious day. 
 
 The gentle spirit of the Autumn wind 
 Sighs sweetly thro' the fields of yellow grain, 
 While crystal dew with bounty unconfin'd 
 Sheds myriad diamonds o'er the sparkling plain. 
 
 Unbidden does the sun refulgent shine ? 
 Unbidden do the whisp'ring breezes play ? 
 Or does a God with bounteous hand divine, 
 Bestow these genial beauties on the day ? 
 
46 THE AUTUMN, 1838. 
 
 Yes ! there's a God who bids each breeze to blow, 
 
 Who bids each ray of Phoebus to appear, 
 
 Who causes every fruitful ear to grow, 
 
 And crowns with plenty each returning year. 
 
 To that great Pow'r should Britons raise the voice 
 Of thankful praise, as is His rightful meed, 
 Who bids their anxious bosoms to rejoice, 
 From gloomy fears of want and mis'ry freed. 
 

 NIGHT. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE AUTUOR's loTH YEAR. 
 
 'Tis night! and all nature is still, 
 And the moon in her glory is reigning ; 
 Thro' the valley is heard the sweet rill, 
 And the nightingale softly complaining. 
 
 The stars in the bright spangled sky, 
 Their glories are proudly displaying ; 
 While in the green meadow hard by, 
 The sheep dog is carelessly baying. 
 
 The old steeple clock's solemn chime, 
 Its peal thro' the valley repeating, 
 Seems to toll for the shortness of time, 
 And the hours that so quickly are fleeting. 
 
48 NIGHT. 
 
 I love thee, sweet night ! yes I love 
 The stillness around thee prevailing, 
 When reflection her pleasures may prove, 
 No bustle her quiet assailing : 
 
 And I love all the beauteous sight, 
 Which nature around is displaying, 
 This soul-soothing calm to the night, 
 For the glories of day light repaying. 
 
THE OLD YEAR, 1837. 
 
 Calm was the sky, and clear the night, 
 
 Hush'd was the Ocean's breast, 
 As by the red moon's sombre light 
 
 The year retir'd to rest. 
 
 And nought was heard, save the solemn breeze, 
 
 Which whisper'd o'er the hill, 
 And murmur'd thro' the leafless trees ; 
 
 All nature's face was still. 
 
 And art thou fled, thou hoary year, 
 
 Thou aged Son of time ! 
 And shalt thou fly without a tear, 
 
 Without one solemn chime ? 
 G 
 
50 THE OLD YEAR, 1837. 
 
 No ! tears shall stand in many an eye 
 
 Of brother, sister, sire, 
 And many a breast shall heave the sigh, 
 
 The sigh of fond desire. 
 
 Since first the church-bells' merry chime 
 
 Proclaim' d thy natal day, 
 The rich and poor have bow'd to time, 
 
 The mighty seen decay. 
 
 But thou art fled ! and with thee fly 
 All thoughts of sorrow past, 
 
 We will not o'er thy mem'ry sigh, 
 To spread a gloom at last. 
 
WHAT IS HOPE ? 
 
 Hope is a rock in Life's dark sea, 
 
 Whose base the surges beat ; 
 Where shipwreck'd mariners may flee, 
 
 And find a safe retreat. 
 
 When tempests o'er the ocean sweep, 
 And darkness veils the night ; 
 
 When roars the bosom of the deep, 
 Hope is the beacon's light. 
 
 When troubles tear the Christian's breast, 
 
 And death and hell dismay, 
 Hope points to an eternal rest, 
 
 And shews the nearest way. 
 
52 WHAT IS HOPE ? 
 
 And when upon the bed of Death 
 
 The suff'ring spirit lies, 
 She cheers him while he pants for breath 
 
 And points him to the skies. 
 
THE INVINCIBLE HAND. 
 
 I look'd in the castle's sad ivy-clad hall, 
 
 That once was so festive and gay ; 
 I gaz'd on the abbey's grey mould'ring wall, 
 
 Fast yielding to silent decay ; 
 And as I look'd back to the years that were fled, 
 
 Since those ruins first rose from the sand, 
 As I stray'd by the moss-mantl'd tombs of the dead, 
 
 I saw the invincible hand. 
 
 I turn'd to the rock that in majesty stood, 
 
 And frown'd o'er the billows below, 
 That for ages had weather'd the storm, and the flood, 
 
 And smil'd at their fury e'en now ; 
 But, while I beheld with a feeling of pride, 
 
 And thought that for aye he would stand, 
 
54 
 
 THE INVINCIBLE HAND. 
 
 On his cloud-crested peak, my vain hopes to deride, 
 I saw the invincible hand, 
 
 I turn'd from the rock to the care-wrinkl'd brow 
 
 Of the beggar, who pass'd by my way, 
 His eyes, once so bright, look'd fall heavily now, 
 
 And his hair with affliction was grey ; 
 I paus'd while I gaz'd on his furrow-plough' d cheek, 
 
 Where a tear-drop had taken its stand — 
 On his weather-beat features so placid and meek 
 
 I saw the invincible hand. 
 
 O grim visag'd time ! thy implacable sway 
 
 Extends over all that I see, 
 The great and the mighty must yield to decay, 
 
 All nature is subject to thee ; 
 But when from the world disappointed I fly, 
 
 And turn to a happier land, 
 Then I look to the region of glory on high, 
 
 I see no invincible hand. 
 
THE FALL OF BABYLON. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE ALTHOr's 14'fH YEAI 
 
 Glory of Kingdoms ! Babylonia's pride, 
 
 That once with impious zeal heav'n's God defied, 
 
 Where are thy glories now ? where now thy tow'rs, 
 
 That once resisted Persia's mighty pow'rs ? 
 
 Where now thy palaces, which seem'd to rise 
 
 In pompous splendour to the Eastern skies ? 
 
 Where now those idol gods, the nation's shame, 
 
 And where those priests, who spread their impious fame, 
 
 In one vast ruin levell'd with the ground, 
 
 A dreary prospect to the plains around ! 
 
 Thy sons no more their martial grace display, 
 
 Nor wield the sword in battle's fierce array ; 
 
 Thy virgin troops no longer swell the song, 
 
56 THE FALL OF BABYLON. 
 
 Or strike their harps thy pleasant groves among-, 
 
 No ! other sounds the prophet's voice declar'd 
 
 Should in thy pleasant palaces be heard, 
 
 His zealous tongue, from heav'n with ardour fir'd, 
 
 Denounc'd the threats his sacred breast inspir'd ; 
 
 The Lord hath said " thy idols I'll confound, 
 
 Thy Bel and Merodach shall kiss the ground, 
 
 Thy palaces, which proudly threat the sky, 
 
 A desolated mass of stones shall lie ; 
 
 The beast of plunder thro' thy tow'rs shall roam, 
 
 And in thy halls the dragon make his home ; 
 
 The bittern answer to the lapwing's cry, 
 
 And echo to the savage sounds reply. 
 
 My word is fitf'd ! and thou shalt quickly know 
 
 When I command none can avert the blow, 
 
 And thou shalt feel from my avenging rod, 
 
 That I, the Lord, am still the only God ! " 
 
 The warning voice no warning could convey, 
 Idolatry had fix'd her impious sway, 
 
THE FALL OF BABYLON. 57 
 
 Thy crafty priests the prophets' voice deride, 
 And mock those awful words with pompous pride ; 
 But God's forbearance will not always last, 
 And Justice speaks the day of mercy past ! 
 Thy hour is come, thy boasted strength must fall, 
 Behold the mystic writing on the wall ! 
 Hark ! Cyrus enters — havoc has begun, 
 The pride of kingdoms, Asia's queen is won ! 
 Pillage, and murder, incest, fire and sword 
 Mark the fulfilment of the prophet's word : 
 In one vast fall thou'rt levell'd with the dust, 
 And still compell'd to own that fall is just. 
 
THE DAY FLY. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE AUTHOR'S 15TH YEAR. 
 
 Poor thoughtless creature of a day ! 
 Pursue thy sweet, unconscious play, 
 
 Nor dread the setting sun ; 
 He soon will sink behind the hill ; 
 Then, sporter, freely take thy till, 
 
 Before his course be run. 
 
 If in the awful hour of Death, 
 When I resign my fleeting breath, 
 
 I then should cease to be ; 
 If an hereafter ne'er would come, 
 And if there were no heav'nly home, 
 
 I'd come and sport with thee. 
 
THE DAY FLY. 59 
 
 But tho' I may not sport like thee, 
 Nor from those anxious cares be free, 
 
 To men in mercy giv'n ; 
 Yet, when I leave this spot of clay, 
 And rise to realms of endless day, 
 I hope for joys in heav'n. 
 
THE SOLDIER'S WIFE. 
 
 They wander'd o'er a desert wild — 
 A mother and her orphan child ; 
 A nobler, or a lovelier mein, 
 A fairer form I ne'er have seen. 
 
 The babe, who lean'd upon her breast, 
 Once with a father's love was blest ; 
 But his gallant sire was call'd afar, 
 To meet the rude alarms of war. 
 
 He liv'd to see the battle won, 
 But not to sec his wife and son, 
 For e'er the din of arms was o'er, 
 The warrior fell to rise no more. 
 
 His death bed was the battle's plain, 
 And there he lay with thousands slain, 
 
THE SOLDIER'S WIFE. 61 
 
 There with the glorious and the brave, 
 The chieftain shar'd a common grave. 
 
 Why wander o'er that desert wild, 
 The mother and her orphan child ? — 
 She goes to shed affliction's tear 
 On the grave that holds her husband dear. 
 
 The babe, while on the tempest swept, 
 Look'd in his mother's face, and wept ; 
 For infant tears will often flow, 
 To see a parent's inward woe. 
 
 The storm rides on ! the thunders roll, 
 And horror chills the wand'rer's soul, 
 The lightning flashes bright, and red, 
 And the hail beats rudely on her head. 
 
 She hastens — but her speed is vain, 
 For long and wide is the desert plain, 
 
62 the soldier's wife. 
 
 'Tvvas sad to see that slender form, 
 Bend to the fury of the storm. 
 
 But dark despair is on her brow, 
 And her limbs refuse their office now ; 
 Scarce can she draw her panting breath- 
 She feels the chilly hand of death — 
 
 And there upon that barren wild 
 The mother clasp'd her orphan child, 
 And ere another hour had fled, 
 That mother and her child lay — dead ! 
 
A CHARADE 
 
 ON MY OWN NAME J. 
 
 My first is like many old ladies, 
 
 And many a young lady too, 
 Whose sole occupation and trade is, 
 
 To chatter, and talk till they're blue. 
 
 A person of letters my second, 
 
 In each volume his name may be seen, 
 
 The beginning of Arts may be reckon'd, 
 Since without him they never had been. 
 
 In every book that is written 
 
 My third is expos'd to your view, 
 
 Oft attends an old maid, and her kitten, 
 And follows Her Majesty too. 
 
64 
 
 A CHARADE, &C. 
 
 My whole is the name of a creature, 
 Which greatly resembles a man, 
 
 With eyes, nose and mouth and each feature, 
 Now guess my charade if you can. 
 
NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, 
 
 Supposed to be written by him at 
 
 ST. HELENA. 
 
 Five weary years have roll'd their languid course 
 Since fickle fortune first upon me frown'd— 
 So changeable the state of mortal man. 
 Ambition ! where's thy wretched victim now I 
 Napoleon is an exile ! — he who erst 
 Was mighty in the earth, the lord of France 
 Is humbled now upon a desert isle. 
 How will proud England lift her scornful head, 
 How will she triumph o'er her esil'd foe ! — 
 Ah ! let her boast, Napoleon too can boast, 
 Napoleon was a king — and king of France. 
 These locks, which whistle in the passing wind, 
 I 
 
66 NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, &C. 
 
 Were once encircl'd with a regal crown, 
 And in these hands—but times are alter'd now, 
 And on a desolate, and rocky shore 
 He wanders lone, and gazes o'er the deep. 
 Oh Ocean ! well thy troubled breast agrees 
 With Ills, who strays along thy rugged strand : 
 But thou art changeless, no united powers 
 Can conquer thee, no length of time deface ; 
 Flow on ! flow on ! I love to see thee flow, 
 Thou Ocean boundless, fathomless, and free 1 
 Ye flinty rocks ! whose dark, tremendous heads 
 Arrest the passage of the fleecy cloud, 
 Ye stand the same, as when to exile borne 
 I first beheld ye from the briny deep, 
 And saw your image shadow'd in the main. 
 Whene'er I view your vast, unwieldy forms, 
 I mark the vanity of human power, 
 And look with sad remembrance on my own, 
 Yes ! ye shall stand, while ocean's waves roll on, 
 But fallen, fallen is Napoleon I 
 
ELEGY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF KING WILLIAM IV. 
 
 Mourn ! England, mourn ! thy sov'reign dead, 
 
 Thy noble monarch weep ! 
 Peaceful he rests his royal head, 
 
 In Death's unbroken sleep. 
 
 His spirit from its kindred clay 
 
 Has wing'd its airy flight, 
 Has wing'd aloft its joyful way, 
 
 To seek the realms of light. 
 
 Let muffled bells with solemn toll 
 
 Of chimings long, and deep, 
 Dismiss to heav'n the parting soul, 
 
 And cry to England, " weep ! " 
 
68 ELEGY, &C. 
 
 Mourn ! England, mourn ! thy pilot brave 
 
 Has left the lofty helm 
 To war with faction's boist'rous wave, 
 
 That would the bark o'erwhelm. 
 
 But e'er he left his vessel brave 
 
 To buffet with the sea, 
 He pray'd that Heav'n his bark would save, 
 
 And grant prosperity. 
 
 Mourn ! Britons mourn ! your Sov'reign dead, 
 
 For Albion's Monarch weep 
 Peaceful he rests his royal head, 
 
 In death's unbroken sleep. 
 
HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE AUTHOR'* 14th YEAR. 
 
 Again we see the happy morn, 
 
 When from his Father's bosom torn, 
 
 The Lord of heaven, and earth, and sea, 
 Came to proclaim the captive free. 
 
 When Christ descended from above, 
 On man to pour his healing love, 
 
 To suffer death, and by his pain 
 To purchase man's eternal gain. 
 
 He came our peace with God to make, 
 He came the powers of Hell to break, 
 
 To break the bonds of death and sin, 
 And bid Redemption's work begin. 
 
70 HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 Hell trembled at the fatal morn, 
 On which the infant God was born, 
 
 Its monarch fell beneath the stroke, 
 And his relentless sceptre broke. 
 
 Glad heav'n with myriad voices rings, 
 And hails the earth-born King of Kings, 
 
 And shall not we our voices raise 
 In one melodious song of praise ? 
 
 Yes ! heav'n and earth shall join the song, 
 And every mortal's joyful tongue 
 
 His well-earned praise shall spread around, 
 And earth to heav'n return the sound. 
 
IMPROMPTU. 
 
 I have a friend, an earthly friend, 
 And I would think him true, 
 
 But yet methought when troubles came, 
 His friendship fainter grew. 
 
 I have a friend, a heav'nly friend, 
 
 And know that He is true, 
 For when that tribulation came 
 
 His friendship firmer grew. 
 
 O may I ever strive to show, 
 
 Whate'er my earthly lot, 
 That He, who ne'er forgetteth me, 
 
 Should never be forgot. 
 
HYMN FOR GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE AUTHOH's 14'1'H YEAR. 
 
 O turn your eyes to yonder sight, 
 
 A dreadful one to see; 
 Where He, the Lord of pow'r, and might 
 
 Is hanging on the tree. 
 
 See ! thro' the Lord of glory's hands 
 
 The soldiers drive the nail, 
 See ! how the malefactors stand, 
 
 And on their Sov'reign rail. 
 
 The spearman strikes his panting side — . 
 
 The victim's blood is shed ! 
 " 'Tis finish'd" ! then the suff'rer cry'd, 
 
 He bows his sacred head. 
 
HYMN FOR GOOD FRIDAY. 73 
 
 Oh ! heard ye then his dying groan ? 
 
 The mighty rocks are rent ! 
 Behold the temple's vail is torn ! 
 
 The graves their dead present. 
 
 The mountains quake, the dreadful sound 
 
 Re-echoes to the sky ; 
 And striking terror all around, 
 
 The sun is dark on high. 
 
 'Twas on this day that Jesus died, 
 
 To him our voice we raise, 
 Who thro' the skies is magnifi'd, 
 
 In echoing songs of praise. 
 
1 DEATH OF A SCHOOL-FELLOW. 
 
 Drowned whilst Bathing, 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE AUTHOR'S 15TH YEAR. 
 
 Peace to the soul that's winged its flight, 
 And left the gloomy shades of night, 
 
 To rise to endless day ; 
 That came to pass a few short years 
 In this deluding vale of tears, 
 
 And then to haste away. 
 
 While yet he breath'd the vital air, 
 None could be sad, if he were there, 
 
 With his sweet, smiling face ; 
 A comely youth, I knew him well, 
 And could a thousand stories tell, 
 
 His eulogy to grace. 
 
ON THE DEATH OF A SCHOOL-FELLOW. 75 
 
 111 fated boy ! thy sports are o'er, 
 We hear thy cheering voice no more, 
 
 Thy smiles no more we see ; 
 But when we view old Mersey's stream, 
 We'll make thy mournful fate our theme, 
 
 And drop a tear to thee. 
 
PARAPHRASE 
 
 On cxxxvii. Psalm. 
 ' By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, &c. 
 
 We sat by proud Euphrates' stream, 
 
 And there we wept full sore, 
 To think on thee, Jerusalem ! 
 
 And all thy glories o'er. 
 
 Upon the bending willows there 
 
 Our silent harps we hung ; 
 While thro' the chords the passing breeze, 
 
 In trembling murmurs rung. 
 
 For there the ruthless conq'rors sought, 
 
 Forgetting Judah's wrongs, 
 To hear her daughter's minstrelsy, 
 
 In one of Zion's songs. 
 
PARAPHRASE. 77 
 
 But ne'er in foreign land will we 
 Our wonted measures try, 
 
 Nor wake the sounds of melody, 
 Where Babel's streams roll by. 
 
 No ! let my hand forget to toil, 
 
 Yea let me cease to be ; 
 Bf I forget, Jerusalem ! 
 
 To think, and weep on thee. 
 
 And let my tongue for aye be still, 
 
 If in thy happier hour, 
 Salem ! I e'er relinquish thee, 
 
 For pleasure, wealth, or power. 
 
 O Lord remember Edom's cry, 
 In Israel's prosp'rous day ; 
 
 " Raze, raze her, even to the ground, 
 And take her name away." 
 
78 PARAPHRASE. 
 
 Daughter of Babylon ! for thee 
 Thy captives well may weep, 
 
 For soon o'er thy devoted head 
 Jehovah's wrath shall sweep. 
 
 Oh ! happy then who causeth thee 
 
 To echo Israel's moans, 
 Who then shall seize thy little ones, 
 
 And dash them on the stones ! 
 
 

 TO THE SUN. 
 
 Thou glorious Sun ! again I see 
 Thy beams of bright effulgency, 
 Again the eastern heav'ns behold 
 Ting'd with thy rays of sapphire gold. 
 
 Thou glorious Sun ! where hast thou been, 
 Since last thy brilliant orb was seen ; 
 What regions hast thou coasted by, 
 In heaven's unknown immensity I 
 
 I ween since last we view'd thy light, 
 That thou hast seen full many a sight, 
 And many an eye, that look'd on thee, 
 May now be clos'd eternally. 
 
 Since ocean, earth, and azure sky 
 
 Obey'd the voice of Majesty, 
 
 Since first creation's work begun, 
 
 Thy beams have shone, thou mighty Sun ! 
 
80 TO THE SUN. 
 
 And thou hast never ceas'd to roll, 
 And shed thy lustre o'er the pole, 
 Dispensing light, and heat abroad, 
 O'er all the wondrous works of God. 
 
 And Patriarchs too, who liv'd of old, 
 Have seen thy beams of amber gold, 
 And many a deed of heav'nly might 
 Has been achiev'd beneath thy sight. 
 
 And still thy brilliant ear rolls on, 
 And still shall roll when I am gone ; 
 Yes ! thou shalt shine as bright, and free 
 Upon remote posterity, 
 
 But when arrives that awful day, 
 When nature's wonders fall away, 
 Thy glittering orb shall darken'd be, 
 And thou shalt set eternally. 
 
COMPARISON 
 
 ADDRESSED TO A FKIEND. 
 
 To what shall I compare pay friend i 
 What shall the picture be ? 
 
 Oh ! she is yonder gallant bark, 
 That bounds along the sea. 
 
 How beautiful that vessel brave, 
 With all her sails unfurl'd, 
 
 Fast hasting o'er the dimpled sea, 
 To seek another world ! 
 
 The gentle" spirit of the breeze, 
 Swells full the milk-white sails ; 
 
 And little doth that vessel fear 
 The strength of adverse gales. 
 L 
 
82 A COMPARISON. 
 
 With heav'n's expanse of blue above, 
 
 Below, the ocean green, 
 She dreams not of the tempest's rage, 
 
 Or rocks that lie unseen. 
 
 Ah gallant bark ! that heav'n may smile, 
 
 But soon shall darken'd be, 
 That ocean's face may now be fair, 
 
 But soon may close on thee ! 
 
 Yes ! raging storms shall roar aloud, 
 
 And urge thee to despair ; 
 E'er thou shalt reach the destin'd port, 
 
 And cast thy anchor there. 
 
 So you, my friend, must cross a sea, 
 Where storms, and billows rise, 
 
 Before you gain your wish'd for land, 
 Your haven in the skies. 
 
 \ 
 
A COMPARISON. 83 
 
 The ocean's waters may be calm, 
 
 The sun may glitter bright, 
 While youth is blooming on your brow, 
 
 And promising delight ; 
 
 But soon a darker day may come, . 
 
 When care shall dim your eye ; 
 When yon bright sea shall fiercely roar, 
 
 And darken' d be yon sky. 
 
 But oh ! may He whose dread command, 
 
 Restrains the wind and sea, 
 Who bids the stormy billows rise, 
 
 And bids them tranquil be ; 
 
 Oh may He make thy ocean calm. 
 
 May He illume thy sky, 
 And waft thee with a prosp'rous wind 
 
 To immortality ! 
 
 
 •-* 
 
ELEGY ON THE DEATH 
 
 An interesting Girl who died from an accident on the Railway. 
 
 She is gone to the realms of the blest, 
 And left her frail body of clay 
 
 In the grave's gloomy silence to rest, 
 Till the trumpet shall call it away. 
 
 She is gone ! and no pow'r can restore 
 The spirit, that's fled to the sky ; 
 
 Tho' many her absence deplore, 
 And the tear stand in many an eye. 
 
 Oh ! list to her heavenly voice, 
 
 As she speaks to her sorrowing friends, 
 
85 
 
 Lament not for me, but rejoice ! 
 " I am living where life never ends. 
 
 For why should you weep, when you know 
 " How blest is the child you deplore ? 
 Who has fled from her sorrows below 
 " To the land where those sorrows are o'er. 
 
 My God, who knows all things the best, 
 " Saw the troubles which waited for me, 
 And call'd me to enter his rest, 
 " In his presence for ever to be. 
 
 Oh could you but see the blest place, 
 " Where your lost one is ever to dwell, 
 No tear-drop would flow down your face, 
 " But in transport you'd cry, " it is well ! " 
 
 And mother, I wait for you here, 
 
 " Till my Master shall will that you come, 
 
86 
 
 And I wait for my kind father dear, 
 " Till he reaches this heavenly home. 
 
 Then dry up your sorrowful tears, 
 " When you think on the glories I tell : 
 For a few short, and fast fleeting years, 
 " Dear father, dear mother, farewell ! " 
 
DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, AND GOMORRAH, 
 From the xix. Chapter of Genesis. 
 
 The sun had arisen in the power of his might, 
 And nature rejoic'd at the glorious sight, 
 And he smil'd on each plain, that beneath him lay 
 So brightly he shone on that awful day. 
 
 But a direr light shall kindled be, 
 On thee, Gomorrah ! and Sodom ! on thee ; 
 For God shall descend, with his fiery rain, 
 And his wrath shall smoke on the blazing plain. 
 
 Mourn ! ye who are revelling madly now, 
 
 Ye proud ones weep ! for your pride shall bow, 
 
O THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. 
 
 Ye mothers ! away with your offspring fly, 
 
 For the vengeance of God blazes bright in the sky. 
 
 Those shouts of mirth, which are echoing there, 
 Shall change for the wailings of dire despair ; 
 And that wreath-bound brow shall scorched be, 
 And those eyes which beam so joyously. 
 
 For the wrath of Jehovah, so long defied, 
 
 On the fiery torrent behold it ride ! 
 
 It comes ! it comes ! from the glowing sky, 
 
 And where from the vengeance, oh where will ye fly 
 
 Oh scene of horror ! above, and below 
 Gleams bright the fiery ruin's glow, 
 While the shrieks of the dying in concert rise 
 With the thunders voice, which rends the skies. 
 
 The night has pass'd, and the morn's grey light 
 Looks forth on a sad, on a desolate sight, 
 
THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM &C. 89 
 
 And the sun glows bright, but his brilliant rays 
 Are hid by the fume of the sulph'rous blaze. 
 
 And those cities so mighty, so great, and fair, 
 In a smoking mass lie prostrate there. 
 Gomorrah is fallen, her power is no more, 
 And the glories of Sodom for ever are o'er ! 
 
TO THE MOON. 
 
 Thou gentle planet I how I love to gaze 
 Upon the beaming lustre of thy rays, 
 And how I love to see the dimpled stream 
 Reflect the brightness of thy silv'ry beam. 
 
 I love to mark each distant glitt'ring star 
 Obey the prouder splendours of thy car, 
 As thou must yield, when Sol's refulgent ray 
 Returns to bring again the genial day. 
 
 (Thus mortals may excel each other's might, 
 And boast the glories of their borrow'd light, 
 But fall to nought, before th' almighty blaze, 
 The pow'r of Him, who fires their transient rays.) 
 
 Sweet planet ! I have watch'd thy glow so mild, 
 And lov'd to mark thy wand'ring when a child ; 
 And now whene'er I see that gentle beam, 
 I cast a thought upon the pleasing dream. 
 
TO THE MOON. 91 
 
 Yes ! oft I think on childhood's happy years, 
 When life roll'd on secure from pains, and fears ; 
 When all my thoughts were unalloy'd, and free, 
 And all my actions innocent as thee. 
 
 But tho' those happy days have flitted by, 
 And now are seen alone in memory, 
 Thy beauteous orb unchang'd, undimm'd by time 
 Still shines as fair, as brilliant, and sublime. 
 
 Yes ! thou art bright, tho' eyes as bright as thee, 
 That oft have mark'd thy wand'ring course with me, 
 Have long been clos'd, and ne'er shall open more, 
 Till heav'n, and earth, and thou, shall be no more. 
 
 Hail lovely moon ! thou shinest bright and fair, 
 As tho* thy habitants were void of care ; 
 And so, I ween, this treach'rous world will shine 
 On those who dwell within that orb of thine. 
 
92 TO THE MOON, 
 
 Haste thee fair wand'rer ! for the coming cloud 
 Is fast approaching with his murky shroud, 
 And soon will shade the glories of thy light, 
 And snatch thy beauty from our mortal sight. 
 
 (Thus clouds of tribulation cross the ray, 
 Which follows on the Christian's earthly way :) 
 But when has roll'd away the cloudy screen 
 Thou'lt shine again in majesty serene. 
 
 And thus tho' shadows dim his shining light, 
 The Christian triumphs in his Saviour's might ; 
 And when the passing shade has flitted by, 
 He smiles to see the vapours as they fly. 
 
 Now fare thee well ! apt emblem of the soul, 
 Of him, who hastens to a heav'nly goal ; 
 I love, and e'er shall love, to view thy light, 
 Until I bid the world, and thee, good night ! 
 
TO THE ATHEIST. 
 
 THE FOOL HATH SAID IN HIS HEART 
 "THERE IS NO GOD." 
 
 The voice of Nature cries, " there is a God, 
 Omnipotent, eternal, wondrous wise," 
 And wheresoe'er we turn our eyes, we see 
 The mighty workmanship of one great hand. 
 
 The fertile valley, clad in bending corn, 
 That 'neath the influence of the autumn wind 
 Presents the picture of a sea of gold ; 
 
94 TO THE ATHEIST. 
 
 The sunny pasture, where the tender lamb 
 Partakes the bounties of his Maker's care ; 
 All, all I see bespeaks a great first Cause, 
 And cries, " there is an all-creating God.'' 
 
 The mighty mountain, whose tremendous form 
 Despises all around, and stands alone 
 A giant in his strength, whose spiry peak 
 Tow'rs high above the fleecy clouds of heav'n ; 
 Where the proud eagle builds her airy nest, 
 And rests secure from all who dwell below, 
 Bespeaks the workmanship of one great hand, 
 And cries, " there is an all-creating God." 
 
 The frowning cliff, which rises from the sea, 
 And casts a darksome shadow o'er the tide ; 
 From whose dread peak the traveller scarce can hear 
 The loudest thunders of the tempest wave ; 
 Whence oft the sailor, as he passes by 
 Will draw the sportive echo from her lair ; 
 
TO THE ATHEIST. 95 
 
 Bespeaks the workmanship of one great hand, 
 And cries, " there is an all-creating God." 
 
 That spacious universe of living things, 
 The boundless ocean, 'neath whose glassy face 
 Those glittering beds of sparkling treasures lie, 
 Which tempt the fatal avarice of man ; 
 That rolling deep, with all his moving host 
 With ev'ry wave, which sparkles to the sun, 
 Bespeaks the workmanship of one great hand, 
 And cries, " there is an all-creating God." 
 
 The vasty concave of the azure sky, 
 Compar'd with which the proudest work of man 
 Is but a speck ; that canopy of blue 
 That like the vaulted roof of some great dome, 
 Forms one wide covering to this lower spot : 
 Where worlds on worlds in countless myriads roll, 
 Surpassing all the powers of Fancy's eye. 
 That mighty heav'n with all its shining orbs, 
 
96 TO THE ATHEIST. 
 
 Bespeaks the workmanship of one great hand, 
 And cries, " there is an all-creating God." 
 
 The earth, the ocean, and the heav'ns unite 
 In one great voice to own their Maker, God : 
 Then let not man his feeble accents raise, 
 Against the thund'ring sound of nature's cry. 
 
AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. 
 
 SUGGESTED BY THE PROCEEDING POEM. 
 
 Eternal Deity, Almighty Lord ! 
 By vast creation's wondrous works ador'd, 
 Whose name the ocean, and the heavens confess, 
 Whom earth and earth's dominions ever bless ; 
 'Tis Thee my Muse in daring strains would sing, 
 To thee her hands would strike the trembling string. 
 And oh ! forgive her too adventurous flight, 
 Who now would soar beyond the realms of light ; 
 Would rise above the heav'n of heav'ns unknown, 
 And strike her harp before Jehovah's throne ! 
 N 
 
98 AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. 
 
 Behold ! abashed the fearful minstrel stands, 
 Mute are her accents, and unnerv'd her hands, 
 Dimm'd is the wonted lustre of her eye, 
 Before the blaze of Heav'n's effulgency. 
 Do Thou, to whom all grace and pow'r belong, 
 Confirm her weakness, and inspire her song, 
 Bid her aspiring soul be void of fear, 
 And teach her strains melodious to Thine ear. 
 
 O God eternal, mighty, uncreate, 
 How vast thy wisdom, and thy pow'r how great, 
 How pure thy justice, infinite thy love, 
 Which brought thee from thy shining courts above ! 
 Thou art eternal — e'er thy quick'ning might 
 Bade universal worlds to spring to light, 
 Bespangled every region of the sky, 
 With glittering orbs, unknown to mortal eye ; 
 E'er thou hadst form'd the hill, the dale, and flood 
 And e'er thy mighty voice pronounc'd them good, 
 Thou sat'st in heav'n upon thy glorious throne, 
 
\\ ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. 99 
 
 A King supreme, almighty, and alone. 
 
 And when the sun, the moon, and stars decay, 
 
 When heaven, and earth, and ocean fall away. 
 
 When vast eternity's deep-rolling tide, 
 
 Above creation's ruined mass shall ride, 
 
 Still thou shalt reign upon thy glorious throne, 
 
 A King supreme, almighty, and alone. 
 
 Thou art omnipotent, thy hands sustain 
 The ponderous weight of heav'n, and earth and main, 
 And every living thing, both great, and small, 
 Thy hand, and Thine alone, sustains them all. 
 Oh wondrous is thy goodness, and thy grace, 
 And great thy mercy to our fallen race ! 
 What myriad blessings from thy bounty flow, 
 What precious gifts thy gracious hands bestow ! 
 Our life, our health, our all, by Thee is giv'n 
 Our all on earth, and all our hope in heav'n. 
 Oh who with finite reason e'er can scan 
 The depths of love, which flow for sinful man ! 
 
100 AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. 
 
 But oh ! that love which drew Thee from the skies, 
 To pass the vale of human miseries, 
 To die a death of anguish, and of pain, 
 The everlasting weal of man to gain ; 
 That love divine let raptur'd angels sing, 
 Let seraph strike his harp's melodious string, 
 Let heav'n's whole host the swelling chorus raise, 
 While mortals join their feebler notes of praise. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 J Haddock, Printer, Warrington. 
 

 
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