At midnight once the storming army came,
Yet do I see the miserable sight,
The bayonet, the soldier, and the flame
That followed us and faced us in our flight:
When rape and murder by the ghastly light
Seized their joint prey, the mother and the child!
But I must leave these thoughts.-From night to night,
From day to day, the air breathed soft and mild;
And on the gliding vessel Heaven and ocean smiled.
Some mighty gulf of separation past,
I seemed transported to another world :
A thought resigned with pain, when from the mast
The impatient mariner the sail unfurl'd,
And whistling, called the wind that hardly curled
The silent sea. From the sweet thoughts of home,
And from all hope I was for ever hurled.
For me-farthest from earthly port to roam
Was best, could I but shun the spot where man might come
And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong)
That I at last a resting-place had found;
Here will I dwell, said I, my whole life-long,
Roaming the illimitable waters round:
Here will I live :-of every friend disown'd,
Here will I roam about the ocean flood.-
To break my dream the vessel reached its bound:
And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,
And near a thousand tables pin'd, and wanted food.
By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,
Helpless as sailor cast on desert rock;
Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,
Nor dared my hand at any door to knock.
I lay, where with his drowsy mates, the cook
From the cross timber of an out-house hung;
Dismally tolled, that night, the city clock!
At morn my sick heart hunger scarcely stung,
Nor to the beggar's language could I frame my tongue.
So pass'd another day, and so the third;
Then did I try in vain the crowd's resort.
-In deep despair by frightful wishes stirr'd,
Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort:
There, pains which nature could no more support,
With blindness link'd, did on my vitals fall,
And I had many interruptions short
Of hideous sense; I sank, nor step could crawl,
And thence was carried to a neighbouring hospital.
Recovery came with food: but still, my brain
Was weak, nor of the past had memory.
I heard my neighbours, in their beds, complain
Of many things which never troubled me;
Of feet still bustling round with busy glee;
Of looks where common kindness had no part;
Of service done with careless cruelty,
Fretting the fever round the languid heart;
And groans, which, as they said, would make a dead man start.
These things just served to stir the torpid sense,
Nor pain nor pity in my bosom raised.
My memory and my strength returned; and thence
Dismissed, again on open day I gazed,
At houses, men, and common light, amazed.
The lanes I sought, and as the sun retired,
Came, where beneath the trees a faggot blazed;
The travellers saw me weep, my fate inquired,
And gave me food, and rest, more welcome, more desired
My heart is touched to think that men like these,
Wild houseless wanderers, were my first relief:
How kindly did they paint their vagrant ease!
And their long holiday that feared not grief!
For all belonged to all, and each was chief.
No plough their sinews strained; on grating road
No wain they drove; and yet the yellow sheaf
In every vale for their delight was stow'd;
In every field, with milk their dairy overflow'd.
They with their pannier'd asses semblance made
Of potters wandering on from door to door:
But life of happier sort to me portray'd,
And other joys my fancy to allure;
The bag-pipe dinning on the midnight moor
In barn uplighted, and companions boon
Well met from far with revelry secure,
Among the forest glades, when jocund June
Rolled fast along the sky his warm and genial moon.
But ill they suited me; those journeys dark
O'er moor and mountain, midnight theft to hatch.
To charm the surly house-dog's faithful bark,
Or hang on tip-toe at the lifted latch;
The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match,
The black disguise, the warning whistle shrill,
And ear still busy on its nightly watch,
Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill:
Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts were brooding still
What could I do, unaided and unblest?
My Father! gone was every friend of thfne:
And kindred of dead husband are at best
Small help; and, after marriage such as mine,
With little kindness would to me incline.
Ill was I then for toil or service fit:
With tears whose course no effort could confine,
By the road-side forgetful would I sit
Whole hours, my idle arms in moping sorrow knit.
I led a wandering life among the fields;
Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
I liv'd upon what casual bounty yields,
Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
The ground I for my bed have often used:
But, what afflicts my peace with keenest ruth
Is, that I have my inner self abused,
Forgone the home delight of constant truth,
And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.
Three years thus wandering, often have I view'd,
In tears, the sun towards that country tend
Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude:
And now across this moor my steps I bend-
Oh! tell me whither for no earthly friend
Have I."- -She ceased, and weeping turned away,
As if because her tale was at an end
She wept ;-because she had no more to say
Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay.
POEMS REFERRING TO THE PERIOD
My heart leaps up when I behold
A Rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began ;
So is it now I am a man.
So be it when I shall grow old,
The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
TO A BUTTERFLY.
STAY near me-do not take thy flight?
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art :
A solemn image to my heart,
My father's family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the Butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush
Upon the prey-with leaps and spring
I followed on from brake to bush;
But she, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.
THE SPARROW'S NEST.
BEHOLD, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid
On me the chance-discovered sight
Gleamed like a vision of delight-
I started-seeming to espy
The home and sheltered bed.-
The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by
My father's house, in wet or dry,
My sister Emmeline and I
She looked at it as if she feared it;
Still wishing, dreading to be near it:
Such heart was in her, being then
A little prattler among men.
The blessing of my later years
Was with me when a boy:
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
And humble cares, and delicate fears;
A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
And love, and thought, and joy.
OR THE CHARGE OF A CHILD TO HIS YOUNGER COMPANION.
THAT is work of waste and ruin-
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
We must spare them-here are many :
Look at it the flower is small,
Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two
I am older, Anne, than you.
Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
-Here are daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the cuckow-flower:
Of the lofty daffodil
Make your bed, and make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom ;
Only spare the Strawberry-blossom
Primroses, the Spring may love them-
Summer knows but little of them;
Violets, a barren kind,
Withered on the ground must lie
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowrets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.
God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured Strawberry-flower.
When the months of spring are fled
Hither let us bend our walk;
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