PART I.-Remembrance.
THOSE days of youth I call to mind,
Like dream by night away are fled,
Or rose that’s pluck’d, which soon doth fade,
And quickly all its honours shed.
No more with sportive feet I tread,
The daisied bank where I have been,
For butterflies prolong’d the chace
With play-mates, oft from morn to e’en.
Or sometimes form’d a party with
Companions, volatile and gay,
At various games; among the rest
The choice at shuttle-cock to play.
With gazing eye still watch its course,
And then to strike it all our aim;
Which warily with battle-door,
Was oft rebounded back again.
Or toss’d the ball with dext’rous skill,
Then run with speed to distin’d place:
Thus health, with exercise combin’d,
While early we renew’d the chace.
But ah! no more well range the heath,
Or climb the steep of Highgate hill;
Those scenes remote, yet once injoy’d,
And leave a pleas’d remembrance still.
No more I view Judge Mansfield’s seat,
‘Tis call’d Caen Wood by men of lore,
Where long his Lordship did preside,
The dread of knaves in days of yore.
Each fertile mead and orchard fair,
With birds that wing from tree to tree,
Green pasturage for lowing herds,
For lambs that bleat, or frisk with glee,
No barren waste offends the eye,
With hemlock, weed, or nettle crown’d,
But industry and healthful toil,
Diffusing plenty all around.
No more the landscape glads my sight,
Which Fitzroy Farm luxurious yields,
Where great Southampton held his seat,
The lord of all those ample fields.
His honour’d name was still rever’d,
By those who knew his native worth;
For mildest virtues much esteem’d,
Far, far above his rank or birth.
Tho’ he could boast a noble race
Descendant from, by genial line;
Those deeds heroic prov’d them such,
As grac’d the annals where they shine.
No more the cottage at the grove,
A garden neat, with fruits well stor’d,
With herbs and flow’rs of various kinds,
Which comfort and delight afford.
No more it meets my ardent gaze,
Tho’ once the dwelling of my sire,
A pleasing haunt for thinking mind,
Or those who feel poetic fire.
No more I cull from gay parterre,
The tulip, rose, or lilly fair,
And glowing pink my sisters rear’d,
With humbler foliage spreading near.
No more the rural turf, our seat,
Plac’d on the sloping bank so green,
Which overlooks the op’ning glade,
The waving corn, and blossom’d bean.
No more we’ll pluck the cherry red,
The apple sweet, with filbert rare,
The orlean plum, or downy peach,
The wall-nut fine, with juicy pear.
No more we’ll share the lucious grape,
That round our cot in clusters hung,
The power of which, to glad the heart,
Our ancient bards have often sung.
No more we’ll chaunt in vocal strain,
Or speak the Gentle Shepherd’s love.
While parent list’ning to our song,
Would often smile, and oft approve.
This was the man by heaven decreed.
Each precept on the thought to bind,
Whose lessons and whose memory still,
Around my heart shall be intwin’d.
For well he knew with cadence smooth,
To touch the feelings of the soul,
Or pathos strong by reason’s aid,
To keep the passions in controul.
Would often read some book well chose,
Instruction for our future years,
Expatiate on each varied theme,
Till mind illum’d, shone thro’ a tear.
Then oft with emulative zeal,
Each strove to gain the well earn’d prize
For task performed, by sire bestow’d,
While pleasure sparkled in his eyes.
Part 2d.-Regret, mixed with hope.
THRICE happy sisters, who enjoy’d
Such privilege till fully grown!
While I, deprived of fost’ring care,
The various ills of life have known.
For when afar from those so dear,
Few social joys have I to boast,
Or intercourse with kindred souls,
But still with anxious cares am tost.
Since six years old I’ve often been
An absentee from natal home;
And from my much lov’d father’s house,
An exile have been doom’d to roam.
A stranger here I still sojourn;
O Scotia, generous warmth impart!
Your kindness I will oft retrace,
And bind it near my woe-fraught heart.
For those who would, with pity feel,
For all the wrongs I have endur’d,
Are long since number’d with the dead,
And in the silent tomb immur’d.
Those friends too, whose sweet sympathy
Hath often sooth’d my troubled mind,
Are now remov’d to distant lands,
And in their stead, how few I find.
Ah! who remains to heed my plaint,
Wipe from my cheek the tricking tears,
That cheek, which once the bloom of health,
But now the hue of sorrow wears.
But wherefore should these chequer’d ills,
Depress the mind, superior grown
To aught there is in fortune’s smiles,
Or yet by folly’s vot’ries known.
O may this hope still chear my breast,
That when the storms of life are past,
My weary soul, will then find rest,
Where joys triumphant ever last.
Then may I through each subtile path,
With agile steps pursue my way,
Till I arrive where spirits wait,
To welcome me to realms of day.
There join with them the general song,
Of angels bright, and sons of men,
To Father, Son, Spirit divine,
A never ending glorious theme.
(Margaretta Wedderburn)
More Poetry from Margaretta Wedderburn:
Margaretta Wedderburn Poems based on Topics: Mind, Love, Sadness, Power, Life, Fathers, Name, Sense & Perception, Youth, Hope, Fairness- Mary Queen Of Scots, An Historical Poem (Margaretta Wedderburn Poems)
- The Author's Farewell To Edinburgh.-1810. (Margaretta Wedderburn Poems)
- Dalkeith, On The Happy Days I Have Enjoyed WithIn Its Bonny Bounds. (Margaretta Wedderburn Poems)
- The Sky, Or A Description Of A Fine Evening: August 17. 1808. (Margaretta Wedderburn Poems)
- An Address To My Friends, When It May Be Supposed, That They Have Read The Contents Of This (Margaretta Wedderburn Poems)
- The Effusions Of Sorrow. March The 12th, 1807. (Margaretta Wedderburn Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, Life Poems, Mind Poems, Sadness Poems, Soul Poems, Nature Poems, Youth Poems, Fairness Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Place PoemsBased on Keywords: volatile, immur, pasturage, mansfield, expatiate, southampton, tricking, dext, highgate, rebounded, fitzroy