But soon his voice and words of kind intent Banished that dismal thought; and now the wind In fainter howlings told its rage was spent: Meanwhile discourse ensued of various kind, Which by degrees a confidence of mind And mutual interest failed not to create. And, to a natural sympathy resigned,
In that forsaken building where they sate The Woman thus retraced her own untoward fate.
By Derwent's side my father dwelt—a man Of virtuous life, by pious parents bred; And I believe that, soon as I began To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed, And in his hearing there my prayers I said: And afterwards, by my good father taught, I read, and loved the books in which I read; For books in every neighbouring house I sought, And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.
A little croft we owned-a plot of corn,
A garden stored with peas, and mint, and thyme, And flowers for posies, oft on Sunday morn
Plucked while the church bells rang their earliest chime. Can I forget our freaks at shearing time!
My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied; The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime; The swans that with white chests upreared in pride Rushing and racing came to meet me at the water-side
The staff I well remember which upbore The bending body of my active sire; His seat beneath the honied sycamore
Where the bees hummed, and chair by winter fire; When market-morning came, the neat attire
With which, though bent on haste, myself I decked; Our watchful house-dog, that would tease and tire The stranger till its barking-fit I checked:
The red-breast, known for years, which at my casement pecked.
The suns of twenty summers danced along,— Too little marked how fast they rolled away : But, through severe mischance and cruel wrong, My father's substance fell into decay: We toiled and struggled, hoping for a day When Fortune might put on a kinder look; But vain were wishes, efforts vain as they; He from his old hereditary nook
Must part; the summons came;-our final leave we took.
It was indeed a miserable hour
When, from the last hill-top, my sire surveyed, Peering above the trees, the steeple tower That on his marriage day sweet music made! Till then, he hoped his bones might there be laid Close by my mother in their native bowers: Bidding me trust in God, he stood and prayed ;- I could not pray :-through tears that fell in showers Glimmered our dear-loved home, alas! no longer ours!
There was a Youth whom I had loved so long, That when I loved him not I cannot say :
'Mid the green mountains many a thoughtless song We two had sung, like gladsome birds in May; When we began to tire of childish play,
We seemed still more and more to prize each other; We talked of marriage and our marriage day; And I in truth did love him like a brother, For never could I hope to meet with such another.
Two years were passed since to a distant town He had repaired to ply a gainful trade: What tears of bitter grief, till then unknown! What tender vows, our last sad kiss delayed! To him we turned:-we had no other aid: Like one revived, upon his neck I wept; And her whom he had loved in joy, he said, He well could love in grief; his faith he kept; And in a quiet home once more my father slept.
We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest With daily bread, by constant toil supplied. Three lovely babes had lain upon my breast; And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sighed, And knew not why. My happy father died, When threatened war reduced the children's meal: Thrice happy! that for him the grave could hide The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel, And tears that flowed for ills which patience might not heal.
'Twas a hard change; an evil time was come; We had no hope, and no relief could gain: But soon, with proud parade, the noisy drum Beat round to clear the streets of want and pain. My husband's arms now only served to strain Me and his children hungering in his view;
In such dismay my prayers and tears were vain : To join those miserable men he flew,
And now to the sea-coast, with numbers more, we drew.
There were we long neglected, and we bore Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weighed ; Green fields before us, and our native shore, We breathed a pestilential air, that made Ravage for which no knell was heard. We prayed For our departure; wished and wished-nor knew, 'Mid that long sickness and those hopes delayed, That happier days we never more must view. The parting signal streamed-at last the land withdrew.
But the calm summer season now was past. On as we drove, the equinoctial deep Ran mountains high before the howling blast, And many perished in the whirlwind's sweep. We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep, Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue, Our hopes such harvest of affliction reap, That we the mercy of the waves should rue: We reached the western world, a poor devoted crew.
The pains and plagues that on our heads came down, Disease and famine, agony and fear,
In wood or wilderness, in camp or town, It would unman the firmest heart to hear. All perished-all in one remorseless year, Husband and children! one by one, by sword And ravenous plague, all perished: every tear Dried up, despairing, desolate, on board
A British ship I waked, as from a trance restored."
Here paused she of all present thought forlorn, Nor voice, nor sound, that moment's pain expressed, Yet Nature, with excess of grief o'erborne, From her full eyes their watery load released. He too was mute; and, ere her weeping ceased, and to the ruin's portal went,
He And saw the dawn opening the silvery east
With rays of promise, north and southward sent; And soon with crimson fire kindled the firmament.
"O come," he cried, "come, after weary night Of such rough storm, this happy change to view.” So forth she came, and eastward looked; the sight Over her brow like dawn of gladness threw ; Upon her cheek, to which its youthful hue Seemed to return, dried the last lingering tear, And from her grateful heart a fresh one drew: The whilst her comrade to her pensive cheer Tempered fit words of hope; and the lark warbled near.
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