English

Address'd to T. M ATHEWS , Esq. of Landaff, who had promis'd the Author an introductory Letter to Mr . F OOTE .

Fishing Subject for the Day,
As in sleepless Bed I lay,
" Jog L EANDER 's friendly Mind,
Touching Promise left behind. "
Thus my Muse — I must obey,
For her Commands brook no Delay.
Master F OOTE , that Prince of Wags,
Posting with his own Dun Nags,
Bath has left some Time ago,
(And indeed you hinted so)
Shortly I design for Town,
But shall soon again come down;
Send me then your promis'd Letter,

Address'd to a Lady at the H OR -W ELL , B RISTOL , wrote in Wales .

Pardon, Madam, this Intrusion,
But of Rhime I've such Profusion,
Write I must, in my own Way, —
Why to Me? — I hear you say:
Troth, because at friendly Board
You regal'd me like a Lord;
And your Treatment so polite,
Grateful thus my Muse will write:
Ever since I landed here,
Scarce a single Hour fair;
Rain and Wind without Cessation;
If a Moment's calm Vacation,
Quick a gloomy wint'ry Sky,
Hovers with malignant Eye,

From the early bells of morning,
Till the evening chimes resound,
In the busy world of labour,
For my daily bread I'm bound,
With no hopes of more possessions
Than six scanty feet of ground!

But lay soul hath found an empire,
Hid between two sister hills,
Where she dreams or roams at pleasure,
Finding whatsoe'er she wills;
There sweet Hope her fairest promise
With a lavish hand fulfils.

And the path that windeth thither,
There's no mortal foot may tread,
For it leads to charmèd valleys,

We nightly die ourselves to sleep,
Then wherefore fear we death?
'Tis but a slumber still more deep,
And undisturbed by breath.

We daily waken to the light,
When Morning walks her way,
Then wherefore doubt Death's longer night
Will bring a brighter day?

Hi noble Stafford , who from Buckingham ,
Eternally deserving nobly came,
No flattering lynes the Muses you afford,
Respecting truly whose worth honour'd Lord,
You well deserve more then can well be said.

Soe then, Right noble Lord, afford your aid,
That your high sterne may rightly placed be,
As is your true deserved dignity:
Firme then will say, Stafford did honour carne,
Freely when hee Afforded an high Stern ,
O may your honour with your age increase,
Resplending forth your truest noblenesse.

Thy way is in the deep, O Lord!
E'en there we'll go with thee:
We'll meet the tempest at thy word,
And walk upon the sea.

Poor tremblers at his rougher wind,
Why do we doubt him so?
Who gives the storm a path will find
The way our feet shall go.

A moment may his hand seem lost, —
Drear moment of delay;
We cry, " Lord, help the tempest-tost!"
And safe we're borne away.

O happy soul of faith divine,
Thy victory how sure!
The love that kindles joy is thine,
The patience to endure.

INSCRIBED TO HENRY W. LONGFELLOW .

With thee, dear friend, though far away,
I walk, as on some vanished day,
And all the past returns in beautiful array.

With thee I still pace to and fro
Along the airy portico,
And gaze upon the flowers and river winding slow

And there, as in some fairy realm,
I hear the sweet birds overwhelm

Address'd to some Ladies of the Author's Acquaintancce in Town, inclosing the preceeding Song.

Least you should think I mean to flight,
I've seiz'd my Quill thus soon to write:
I fled from Town t' avoid the Times,
Least they shou'd plunge me into Rhimes;
Lo! the Effects — why, Ladies, here,
Still more provoking they appear,
Already I've engag'd — a Proof;
I tell you nothing but strict Truth;
Mark the inclos'd — What cou'd I say?
A Monarch's Cause demands a Lay:
King Derrick 's Dignity to save,

Ever right honour, and true noblenes
Declared in your vertues, you expresse,
Warding your self with more then common ward ,
According to your birth, which high regard
Rightly draws to your self, so that withall
Doubtles y'are warded with a double wall.

Seeing your high and truly noble birth,
Each one confesse y'are warded well on earth;
Your worthy vertues when we have in eye,
More warded you are then by birth, we cry:
O, then pursue still in the vertuous trade,
Rightly whereby more warded you are made.

Renowned Lord, in honour fixt on high,
In great advancement, and true dignity,
Choice peece of worth, lending with noble hand
Help to the poore, in need thereof who stand;
Advance still forward, let your charity,
Rarely extend itself, though rare it be;
Doubtles the stars great glory 'tis, that they
Enlighten all things with their lustrous ray.

Lend then, magnificent, and noble Lord,
Ever your bounty to the world afford,
No end there will ensue tolone so chary ;
Nobility advancing truly wary,