{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "UlBRARY OF CONGRESS. I\\nUNITED STATES OP AMERICA.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "THE\\nFARMER S BOY\\nOTHER POEMS.\\nROBERT BLOOMFIELD,\\nu\\nPHILADELPHIA:\\nBROWER. ILVYS CO., 193 MARKET ST.\\n1847.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "PRINTED BY SMIT:; PETERS,\\nFranklin Buildings, Sixth Street below Arch, Philadelphi", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nTHE FARMER S BOY.\\nPreface 9\\nSpring 25\\nSummer 41\\nAutumn 59\\nWinter 75\\nRURAL TALE3.\\nPeace 9\\nRichard and Kate 99\\nWalter and Jane 107\\nThe Miller s Maid 120\\nThe Widow to her Hour-Glass .136\\nMarket Night 13b\\nThe Fakenham Ghost 142\\nThe French Mariner 147\\nDolly 151\\nLines occasioned by a visit to Wittlebury Forest. 155\\nSong lt^l\\nA word to Two young Ladies 1C3\\nOn hearing of the Translation of part of the\\nFarmer s Boy into Latin, by the Rev. Mr. C. 10.^\\nNancy 166\\nRose Hannah 168\\nThe Shepherd and his Dog Rover .170", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nHunting Song 172\\nLucy J74\\nWinter Song 176\\nWILD FLOWERS.\\nAbner and the Widow Jones .183\\nMy Old Oak Table 195\\nThe Horkey 200\\nThe Broken Crutch 209\\nShooter s Ui .l 221\\nMary 9 Evening Sigh 229\\nBarnham Water 231\\nThe Woodland Halloo 234\\nOn reviewing the place of my Nativity .236", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "MEMOIR.\\nRobert Bloomfield was born at Honington, near\\nBury, in the county of Suffolk, on the 3d of December,\\n1776. Ills mother being left a widow, with a family\\nof six children, and in straitened circumstances, Ro-\\nbert had no other instruction during his boyhood ex-\\ncept what he received from herself, and at the age of\\neleven, he was obliged to enter into the service of a\\nneighbouring farmer. Here, however, it was found\\nthat his small and delicate frame was unfitted for any\\nkind of agricultural labour upon which he was sent\\nto London, to learn the trade of a shoemaker, from\\nhis elder brother, who was settled there as a journey-\\nman. But while he was employed at his work-stall,\\nor in running errands for the workmen, the aspiring\\nboy showed the innate force of his genius. It was in\\na garret in London, and amid the incessant hammer-\\ning of six or seven workmen, that he composed his\\nFarmer s Boy. The MS. accidentally attracted the\\nattention of Mr. Capel Lofft, and that gentleman,\\ncharmed by the beauties of the poem, sought the\\nauthor, and by his influence was the poem published,\\nand with such great success, that many editions were\\n(5)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "MEMOIR.\\ncalled for, and it was ranked among the first produc-\\ntions of the day.\\nNotwithstanding our author acquired fame by his\\npoetical efforts, he continued very poor, he was of\\nliberal disposition, and valued money only for the pur\\npose of relieving his poor relations. He died in Bed\\nfordshire, on the 19th of August, 1823", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "THE FARMER S BOY.\\n(7)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "PKEFACE.\\nHaving the satisfaction of introducing to the Public\\nthis very pleasing and characteristic poem, The Far-\\nmer s Boy, I think it will be agreeable to preface it\\nwith a short account of the manner in which it came\\ninto my hands and, which will be much more inte-\\nresting to every Reader, a little History of the Author,\\nwhich has been communicated to me by his Brother,\\nand which I shall very nearly transcribe as it lies be-\\nfore me\\nIn November last year I received a MS. which I\\nwas requested to read, and to give my opinion of it.\\nIt had before been shown to some persons in London\\nwhose indifference toward it may probably be explain-\\ned, when it is considered that it came to their hands\\nunder no circumstances of adventitious recommenda-\\ntion. With some, a person must be rich, or tkled, or\\nfashionable as a literary name, or at least fashionable\\nin some respect, good or bad, before any thing which\\nhe can offer will be thought worthy of notice.\\nI had been a little accustomed to the effect of preju-\\ndices and I was determined to judge, in the only just\\nand reasonable way, of the work, by the work itself.\\nAt first I confess, seeing it divided into the four Sea-\\n(9)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "10 PREFACE.\\nsons, I had to encounter a prepossession not very ad-\\nvantageous to any writer, that the author was tread-\\ning in a path already so admirably trod by Thomson\\nand might be adding one more tc an attempt already\\nso often, but so injudiciously and unhappily made, of\\ntransmuting that noble poem from blank verse into\\nrhyme\u00e2\u0080\u0094 from its own pure native gold into an alloyed\\nmetal of incomparably less splendour, permanence, and\\nworth.\\nI had soon, however, the pleasure of finding myself\\nrelieved from that apprehension and of discovering\\nthat, although the delineation of Rural Scenery natu-\\nrally branches itself into these divisions, there was\\nlittle else except the general qualities of a musical ear,\\nflowing numbers, feeling, piety, poetic imagery, and\\nanimation, a taste for the picturesque, a true sense of\\nthe natural and pathetic, force of thought, and liveli-\\nness of imagination, which were in common be-\\ntween Thomson and this author. And these are qua-\\nlities which whoever has the eye, the heart, the\\nawakened and surrounding intellect, and the diviner\\neense of the Poet, which alone can deserve the name,\\nmust possess.\\nBut, with these general characters of true Poetry,\\nThe Farmer s Boy has, as I have said, a character\\nof its own. It is discriminated as much as the circum-\\nstances and habits, and situation, and ideas conse-\\nquently associated, which are so widely diverse in the\\ntwo authors, could make it different. Simplicity,\\nsweetness, a natural tenderness, that mnlle atque face-\\nturn, which Horace celebrates in the Eclogues of Vir-\\npil, will be found to belong to it.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "PKEFACE. 11\\nI intend some farther and more particular critical\\nremarks on this charming performance. But I now\\npass to the account of the Author himself, as given me\\nby his brother a man to whom also I was entirely a\\nstranger: but whose candour, good sense, and bro-\\ntherly affection, appear in this narrative and of the\\njustness of whose understanding, and the goodness of\\nhis heart, I have had many proofs, in consequence of\\na correspondence with him on different occasions\\nwhich have since arisen, when this had made me ac-\\nquainted wit!i him, and interested me in his behalf.\\nIn writing to me, Mr. George Bloomfield, who is a\\nshoemaker also, as his brother, and lives at Bury, thus\\nexpresses himself:\\nAs I spent tive years with the Author, from the\\ntime he was thirteen years and a half old till he was\\nturned of eighteen, the most interesting time of life, (1\\nmean the time that instruction is acquired, if acquired\\nat all,) I think I am able to give a better account of\\nhim than any one can, or than he can of himself: for\\nhis modesty would not let him speak of his temper, di^s-\\nposition, or morals.\\nRobert was the younger child of George Bloomfield,\\na tailor, at Honington. His father died when he was\\nan infant under a year old. His mother was a school-\\nmistress, and instructed her own children with the\\nothers. He thus learned to read as soon as he learned\\nto speak.\\nThough the mother was left a widow with six\\nsmall children, yet with the help of friends she ma-\\nnaged to give each of them a little schooling.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "12 PREFACE.\\nRobert was accordingly sent to Mr. Rodwell, of\\nIxworth, to be improved in writing but he did not go\\nto that school more than two or three months, nor was\\never sent to any other his mother again marrying\\nwhen Robert was about seven years old. By her se-\\ncond husband, John Glover, she had another family.\\nWhen Robert was not above eleven years old, the\\nlate Mr. W. Austin, of Sapiston, took him. And\\nthough it is customary for farmers to pay such boys\\nonly Is. 6d. per week, yet he generously took him into\\nthe house. This relieved his mother of any other ex-\\npense than only of finding him a few things to wear;\\nand this was more than she well knew how to do.\\nShe wrote, therefore, Mr. G. Bloomfield conti-\\nnues, to me and my brother Nat. (then in London,)\\nto assist her mentioning that he, Robert, was so small\\nof his age, that Mr. Austin said, he was not likely to\\nget his living by hard labour.\\nMr. G. Bloomfield on this informed his mother that,\\nif she would let him take the boy with him, he would\\ntake him, and teach him to make shoes: and Nat. pro-\\nmised to clothe him. The mother upon this ofier took\\ncoach and came to London, to Mr. G. Bloomfield, with\\nthe boy for she said, she never should have been\\nhappy if she had not put him herself into his hands.\\nShe charged me, he adds, \u00e2\u0096\u00a0as I valued a mother s\\nblessing-, to watch over him, to set good examples foi\\nhim, and never to forget that he had lost his father.\\nI religiously confine myself to Mr. G. Bloomfield sown\\nwords, and I think I should wrong all the parties con-\\ncerned if in mentioning this pathetic and successful\\nadmonition, I were to use any other.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "13 PREFACE.\\nMr. G. Bloomfield then lived at Mr. Simm s, No. 7,\\nFislier s-court, Bell-alley, Coleman-street. It is cus-\\ntomary, he continues, in such houses as are let to\\npoor people in London, to have light garrets fit for me-\\nchanics to work in. In the garret, where we had two\\nturn-up beds, and five of us worked, I received little\\nRobert.\\nAs we were all single men, lodgers at a shilling per\\nweek each, our beds were coarse, and all things far\\nfrom being clean and snug, like what Robert had left\\nat Sapiston. Robert was our man, to fetch all things\\nto hand. At noon he fetched our dinners from the\\ncook s shop and any one of our fellow workmen that\\nwanted to have any thing fetched in, would send him,\\nand assist in his work and teach him, for a recompense\\nfor his trouble.\\nEvery day, when the boy from the public-house\\ncame for the pewter-pots, and to hear what porter was\\nwanted, he always brought the yesterday s newspaper^\\nThe reading of the paper we had been used to take by\\nturns but after Robert came, he mostly read for us,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nbecause his time was of least value.\\nHe frequently met with words that he was unac-\\nquainted with of this he often complained. I one\\nday happened at a book-stall to see a small dictionary,\\nwhich had been very ill used. I bought it for him for\\n4d. By the help of this he in a little time could read\\nand comprehend the long and beautiful speeches of\\nBurke, Fox, or North.\\nOne Sunday, after a whole day s stroll in the coun-\\ntry, we by accident went into a dissenting meeting-", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "14 PREFACE.\\nhouse in the Old Jewry, where a gentleman was lec-\\nturing. This man filled little Robert with astonishment.\\nThe house was amazingly crowded with the most gen-\\nteel people and though we were forced to stand still\\nin the aisle, and were much pressed, yet Robert al-\\nways quickened his steps to get into the town on a\\nSunday evening, soon enough to attend this lecture.\\nThe preacher lived somewhere at the west end of\\nthe town his name was Fawcet. His language,\\nsays Mr. G. Bloomfield, was just such as the Ram-\\nbler is written in his action, like a person acting a\\ntragedy his discourse rational, and free from the cant\\nof Methodism. Of him Robert learned to accent what\\nhe called hard words; and otherwise improved him-\\nself and gained the most enlarged notions of Provi-\\ndence.\\nHe went sometimes with me to a Debating Society\\nat Coachmaker s hall, but not often and a few times\\nto Covent Garden Theatre. These are all the oppor-\\ntunies he ever had to learn from public speakers. As\\nto books, he had to wade through two or three folios\\na History of England, British Traveller, and a Geo-\\ngraphy. But he always read them as a task, or to\\noblige us wlio bought them. And as they came in six-\\npenny numbers weekly, he had about as many hours\\nto read as other boys spend in play.\\nI at that time, proceeds his brother, read the\\nLondon Magazine and in that work about two sheets\\nwere set apart for a Review Robert seemed always\\neager to read this Review. Here he could see what\\nthe Literary Men were doing, and learn to judge of the", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "PREFACE. 15\\nmerits of the works that came out. And I observed\\nthat he always looked at the Poet s Corner. And one\\nday he repeated a song which he composed to an old\\ntune. I was much surprised that a boy of sixteen\\nshould make so smooth verses so I persuaded him to\\ntry whether the editor of our paper would give them a\\nplace in Poet s Corner. And he succeeded, and they\\nwere printed. And as I forget his other early produc-\\ntions, I shall copy this.\\nTHE MILK-MAID, ON THE FIRST OF MAY.\\nHail, May lovely May 1 how replenished my pails I\\nThe young dawn overspreads the east streak d with\\ngold!\\nMy glad heart beats time to the laugh of the vales,\\nAnd Colin s voice rings through the woods from\\nthe fold.\\nThe wood to the mountain submissively bends,\\nWhose blue misty summits first glow with the sun\\nSee thence a gay train by the wild rill descends\\nTo join the glad sports hark the tumult s begun.\\nBe cloudless, ye skies Be my Colin but there.\\nNot the dew-spangled bents on the wide level dale,\\nNor morning s first blush, can more lovely appear\\nThan his looks, since my wishes I could not conceal.\\n?\\\\vift down the mad dance, while blest health prompts\\nto move,\\nWe ll count joys to come, and exchange vows of\\ntruth", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "16 PREFACE.\\nAnd haply, when age cools the transports of love,\\nDecry like good folks the vain pleasures of youth.\\nNo, no, the remembrance shall ever be dear\\nAt no time Love vi ith innocence ceases to charm\\nIt is transport in youth, and it smiles through the tear.\\nWhen they feel in their children its first soft alarm.*\\nI remember. says Mr. G. Bloomfield, continuing\\nhis narrative, a little piece which he called the Sai-\\nlor s Return in which he tried to describe the feelings\\nof an honest tar, who, after a long absence, saw his\\ndear native village first rising into view. This too ob-\\ntained a place in the Poet s Corner.\\nAnd as he was so young, his brother proceeds,\\nit shows some genius in him, and some industry, to\\nhave acquired so much knowledge of the use of words\\nin so little time. Indeed at this time myself and my\\nThe writer of this Preface doubts whether he has\\nbeen successful in adding the last stanza to this beau-\\ntiful and simply expressive song. But he imagined\\nthat some thought of this kind was in the mind of the\\nAuthor and he was willing to endeavourto express\\nit. The breast which has felt love, justly shrinks\\nfrom the idea of its total extinction, as from annihila-\\ntion itself. And there is even a high social and moral\\nuse in that order of Providence which exalts sensa-\\ntions into tender and benign passions those passions\\ninto habitual affections yet more tender and raises\\nfrom those affections virtues the most permanent, the\\nmost necessary and beneficent, and most endearing:\\nthus expanding the sentiment into all the charities of\\ndomestic and social life.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "PREFACE. 17\\nfellow workmen in the garret began to get instructions\\nfrom him, though not more than sixteen years old.\\nAbout this time there came a man to lodge at our\\nlodgings that was troubled with fits. Robert was so\\nmuch hurt to see this poor creature drawn into such\\nfrightful forms, and to hear his horrid screams, that I\\nwas forced to leave the lodgings. We went to Blue\\nIlart-court, Bell-alley. In our new garret we found a\\nsingular character, James Kay, a native of Dundee.\\nHe was a middle-aged man, of a good understanding,\\nand yet a furious Calvinist. He had many bcJbks,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nand some which he did not value such as the Sea-\\nsons, Paradise Lost, and some novels. These books\\nhe lent to Robert who spent all his leisure hours in\\nreading the Seasons, which he was now capable of\\nreading. I never heard him give so much praise to\\nany book as to that.\\nI think it was in the year 1784 that the question\\ncame to be decided between the Journeymen Shoe-\\nmakers; whether those who had learned without\\nserving an apprenticeship could follow the trade.\\nThe man by whom Robert and I were employed,\\nMr. Chamberlayne, of Cheapside, took an active part\\nagainst the lawful journeymen, and even went so far\\nas to pay off every man that worked for him that had\\njoined their clubs. This so exasperated the men,\\nthat their acting committee soon looked for unlawful\\nmen (as they called them) among Chamberlayne a\\nworkmen.\\nThey found out little Robert, and threatened to prc^\\nsecute Chamberlavne for employing him, and to pro-\\n2", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "18 PREFACE.\\nsecute Mr. G. Bloomfield, for teaching him. Chamber-\\nlayne requested of the brother to go on and bring it to\\na trial, for that he would defend it and that neither\\nGeorge nor Robert should be hurt.\\nIn the meantime George was much insulted for\\nhaving refused to join upon this occasion those who\\ncalled themselves exclusively the laioful crafts.\\nGeorge, who says he was never famed for patience,\\n(it is not indeed so much as might be sometimes\\nwished very often the lot of strong and acute minds\\nto possess largely of this virtue,) took his pen, and\\naddressed a letter to one of the most active of the\\ncommittee-men (a man of very bad character.) In\\nthis, after stating that he took Robert at his mother s\\nrequest, he made free as well with the private cha-\\nracter of this man, as with the views of the committee.\\nThis, says George, was very foolish, for it made\\nthings worse but I felt too much to refrain.\\nWhat connects this episodical circumstance with\\nthe character of our Author, follows in his brother s\\nwords.\\nRobert, naturally fond of peace, and fearful for\\nmy personal safety, begged to be suffered to retire\\nfrom the storm. He came home and Mr. Austin\\nkindly bade him take his house for his home till he\\ncould return to me. And here, with his mind glowing\\nwith the fine descriptions of rural scenery which he\\nfound in Thomson s Seasons, he again retraced the\\nvery fields where first he began to think. Here, free\\nfrom the smoke, the noise, the contention of the city,\\nhe imbibed that love of rural simplicity and rural in-", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "PREFACE. Id\\nnocence, which fitted him, in a great degree, to be the\\nwriter of such a thing as The Farmer s Boy.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2Here he lived two months; at length, as the dis-\\npute in the trade still remained undecided, Mr. Dud-\\nbridge otfered to take Robert as an apprentice, to se-\\ncure him, at all events, from any consequences of the\\nlitigation.\\nHe was bound by Mr. Ingram, of Bell-alley, to Mr.\\nJohn Dudbridge. His brother George paid five shill-\\nini^e for Robert, by way of form, as a premium. Dud-\\nbridge was their landlord, and a freeman of the city\\nof London. He acted most honourably, and took no\\nadvantage of the power which the indentures gave\\nhim. George Bloomfield stayed with Robert till he\\nfound he could work as expertly as himself.\\nMr. George Bloomfield adds, When I left London\\nhe was turned of eighteen and much of my happi-\\nness since has arisen from a constant correspondence\\nwhich I have held with him. After I left him, he\\nstudied music, and was a good player on the violin.\\nBut as my brother Nat. had married a Woolwich wo-\\nman, it happened that Robert took a fancy to a comely\\nyoung woman of that town, whose father is a boat-\\nbuilder in the Government yard there. His name is\\nChurch.\\nSoon after he married, Robert told me, in a letter,\\nthat he had sold his fiddle and got a wife. Like\\nmost poor men, he got a wife first, and had to get\\nhousehold stufi afterward. It took him some years to\\nget out of ready-furnished lodgings. At length, by\\nhard working, .c., he acquired a bed of his own, and", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "20 PREFACE.\\nhired the room up one pair of stairs at 14, Bell-alley,\\nColeman-street. The landlord kindly gave him leave\\n10 sit and work in the light garret, two pair of stairs\\nhigher. In this garret, amid six or seven other work-\\nmen, his active mind employed itself in composing\\nThe Farmer s Bov. In my correspondence I have\\nseen several poetical effusions of his all of them of\\na good moral tendency; but which he very likely\\nwould think do him little credit: on that account I\\nhave not preserved them.\\nRobert is a ladies shoemaker, and works for\\nDavies, Lombard-street. He is of a slender make; of\\nu bout five feet four inches high very dark complexion.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094His mother, who is a very religious member of the\\nChurch of England, took all the pains she could in\\nhis infancy to make him pious and as his reason e.\\\\-\\npanded, his love of Ids fellow man increased with it.\\nI never knew his equal for mildness of temper and\\ngoodness of disposition. And since I left him, univer-\\nsally is he praised by those who know him best, for\\nthe best of husbands, an indulgent father, and quiet\\nneighbour. He is about thirty-two years old, and has\\nthree children.\\nMr. George Bloomfield concludes this clear, affec-\\ntionate, and interesting narrative, by a very kind\\naddress to the writer of this Treface. But, pleased\\nas I am with the good opinion of a man like him, I\\nmust not take praise to myself for not having neglected\\nor suppressed such a work when it came into my\\nhands. And I have no farther merit than that of see-\\ning what it was impossible for an unprejudiced mind", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "PREFACE. 21\\nnot to see, and of doing what it was impossible not to\\ndo.\\nBut I join with him cordially in his prayer, that\\nGod, the Giver of thought, may, as mental light spreads,\\nraise up many who will turn a listening ear, and will\\nnot despise\\nThe short and simple annals of the poor.\\nVery few words will complete what remains to be\\nadded.\\nStruck with the work, but not less struck with the\\nremark, which is become a proverb, of the Roman\\nSatirist, that it is not easy for those to emerge to no-\\ntice whose circumstances obscure the observation of\\ntheir merits, I lent it to a friend, whom 1 knew to be\\nabove these prejudices, and who has deserved, and in\\ndeserving, well of the public, in many other instances,\\nby his attention to literature and the elegant arts. He\\nimmediately expressed a high satisfaction in it, and\\ncommunicated it to a firm of respectable booksellers.\\nThey adopted it upon terms honourable to themselves,\\nand satisfactory to the Author, and to me in his behalf.\\nThey have published it in a manner which epeaka\\nabundantly for itself.\\nMy part has been this, and it has been a very pleas-\\ning one to revise the MS., making occasionally cor-\\nrections with respect to orthography, and sometimes\\nin grammatical construction. The corrections, in\\npoint of grammar, reduce themselves almost wholly to\\na circumstance of provincial usage, which even well-\\neducated persons in Suffolk and Norfolk do not wholly", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "2-2 PHEFACE.\\navoid and which may be said, as to general custom,\\nto have become in these counties almost an established\\ndialect: that of adopting the plural for the singular\\ntermination of verbs so as to exclude the s. But not a\\nline is added or substantially altered through the whole\\nPoem. I have requested the MS. to be preserved for\\nthe satisfaction of those who may wish to be satisfied\\non this head. The proofs have gone through my hands.\\nIt has been printed slowly, because most carefully as\\nit deserved to be printed. I have no doubt of its re-\\nception with the public I have none of its going dowu\\nto posterity with honour which is not always the fate\\nof productions which are popular in their day.\\nThus much I know that the Author, with a spirit\\namiable at all times, and which would have been re-\\nvered by antiquity, seems far less interested concern-\\ning any fame or advantage he may derive from it to\\nhimself, than in the pleasure of giving a printed copy\\nof it as a tribute of duty and affection to his mother\\nin whose pleasure, if it succeeds, his filial heart places\\nthe gratification of which it is most desirous. It is\\nmuch to be a Poet, such as he will be found it is\\nmore to be such a Man.\\nCAPEL LOFFT.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "THE FARMER S BOY.\\nSPRING.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "ARGUMENT.\\nINVOCATION, ETC. SEED TIME. HARROWING.\\nMORNING WALl :^.--X r.KING. THE DAIRY.\\nSUFFOLK CHEESE. SPRING COMING FORTH.\\nSHEEP FOND OF CHANGING. LAMBS AT PLAY.\\nTHE BUTCHER, ETC.\\n(24)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "SPRING.\\nCOME, blest Spirit whatsoe er thou art,\\nThou kindling warmth that hover st round my\\nheart,\\nSweet inmate, hail thou source of sterling joy\\nThat poverty itself cannot destroy,\\nBe thou my muse and faithful still to me,\\nRetrace the steps of wild obscurity.\\nNo deeds of arms my humble lines rehearse;\\nNo Alpine wonders thunder through ray verse,\\nJ he roaring cataract, the snow-topt hill,\\nInspiring awe, till breath itself stands still\\nNature s sublimer scenes ne er charmed mine\\neyes,\\nNor Science led me through the boundless skies\\nFrom meaner objects far my raptures flow\\nO point these raptures bid my bosom glow\\nAnd lead my soul to ecstasie.-? of praise\\nFor all the blessings of my infant days!\\nBear me through regions where gay Fancy\\ndwells;\\nBut mould to Truth s fair form what Memory\\ntells.\\n(25)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "26 THE fap.mek s boy.\\nLive, trifling incidents, and grace ray song,\\nThat to the humblest menial belong\\nTo him whose drudgery unheeded goes,\\nHis joys unreckon d, as his cares or woes:\\nThough joys and cares in every path are sown,\\nAnd youthful minds have feelings of their own,\\nQuick springing sorrows, transient as the dew,\\nDelights from trifles, trifles ever new.\\nTwas thus with Gilks, meek, fatherless, and poor,\\nLabour his portion, but he felt no more\\nNo stripes, no tyranny his steps pursued\\nHis life was constant, cheerful servitude\\nStrange to the world, he wore a bashful look\\nThe Fields his study, Nature was his book!\\nAnd, as revolving Seasons chang d the scene\\nFrom heat to cold, tempestuous to serene.\\nThough every change still varied his employ.\\nYet each new duty brought its share of joy.\\nWhere noble Graftox spreads his rich do-\\nmains,\\nRound Euston s water d vale, and sloping plains.\\nWhere woods and groves in solemn grandeur\\nrise,\\nWhere the kite brooding unmolested flies\\nThe woodcock and the painted pheasant race,\\nAnd skulking foxes, destin d for the chase\\nThere Giles, untaught, and unrepining, stray d\\nThrough every copse, and grove, and winding", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "SPRING. 27\\nJ here his first thoughts to Nature s charms in-\\ndin d,\\nTliat stamps devotion on th inquiring mind.\\nA httle farm his generous master till d,\\nWho with peculiar grace his station fill d\\nBy deeds of hospitaUty endear d,\\nServ d from affection, for his worth rever d.\\nA happy offspring blest his plenteous board,\\nHis fields were fruitful, and his barns well st9r d.\\nAnd fourscore ewes he fed, a sturdy team,\\nAnd lowing kine that graz d beside the stream\\nUnceasing industry he kept in view,\\nAnd never lack d a job for Giles to do.\\nFled now the sullen murmurs of the North,\\nThe splendid raiment of the Spring peeps forth;\\nHer universal green, and the clear sky,\\nDelight still more and more the gazing eye.\\nWide o er the fields, in rising moisture strong,\\nShoots up the simple flower, or creeps along\\nThe mellow d soil imbibing fairer hues,\\nOr sweets from frequent showers and evening\\ndews;\\nThat summon from their sheds the slumb ring\\nploughs.\\nWhile health impregnates every breeze that blows.\\nNo wheels support the diving, pointed share\\nNo groaning ox is doom d to labour there;\\nNo helpmates teach the docile steed his road\\n(Alike unknown the ploughboy and his goad;)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "28 THE farmer s boy.\\nBut, unassisted through each toilsome day,\\nWith smiHng brow the ploughman cleaves his\\nway;\\nDraws his fresh parallels, and widening still,\\nTreads slow the heavy dale, or climbs the hill\\nStrong on the wing his busy followers play,\\nWhere writhing earth-worms meet th unwelcome\\nday;\\nTill all is chang d, and hill and level down,\\nAssume a livery of sober brown\\nAgain disturb d, when Giles with wearying strides\\nFrom ridge to ridge the ponderous harrow guides\\nHis heels deep sinking every step he goes,\\nTill dirt adhesive loads his clouted shoes.\\nWelcome, green headland firm beneath his feet\\nWelcome the friendly bank s refreshing seat;\\nThere, warm with toil, his panting horses browse,\\nTheir shelt ring canopy of pendent boughs;\\nTill rest, delicious, chase each transient pain.\\nAnd new-born vigour dwell in every vein.\\nHour after hour, and day to day succeeds;\\nTill every clod and deep-drawn furrow spreads\\nTo crumbling mould a level surface dear.\\nAnd strew d with corn to crown the rising year;\\nAnd o er the whole Giles once traverse again,\\nIn earth s moist bosom buries up the grain.\\nThe work is done no more to man is given\\nThe grateful farmer trusts the rest to Heaven.\\nYet oft with anxious heart he looks around,\\n.And marks the first green blade that breaks the\\nground", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "SPRING. aO\\nIII fancy sees his trembling oats uprun,\\nHis tufted barley yellow in the sun\\nSees clouds propitious shed their timely store,\\nAnd all his harvest gather d round his door.\\nBut still unsafe the big swoll n grain below,\\nA fav rite morsel with the rook and crow;\\nFrom held to field the flock increasing goes\\nTo level crops most formidable foes\\nJ heir danger well the wary plunderers know,\\nAnd place a watch on some conspicuous bough.\\nVet oft the skulking gunner by surprise\\nWill scatter death amongst them as they rise.\\nJ hese, hung in triumph round the spacious field,.\\nAt best will but a short-Uv d terror yield\\nNor guards of property (not penal law,\\nBut harmless riflemen of rags and straw\\nFamiliariz d to these, they boldly rove,\\nNor heed such sentinels that never move.\\nLet then your birds lie prostrate on the earth,\\nIn dying posture, and with wings stretch d forth\\ntShift them at eve or morn from place to place,\\nAnd Death shall terrify the pilfering race;\\nIn the mid air, while circling round and round,\\nThey call their lifeless comrades from the ground\\nWith quick ning wing, and note of loud alarm.\\nWarn the whole flock to shun th impending hanu.\\nThis task had Giles, in fields remote from\\nhome\\nOft has he wish d the rosy mom to come", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "30 THE FARMEP^ S BOY.\\nYet never fam d was he nor foremost found\\nTo break the seal of sleep; his sleep was sound:\\nBut when at day -break summon d from his bed,\\nLight as the lark that caroH d o er his head,\\nHis sandy way, deep-worn by hasty showers,\\nO er-arch d with oaks that form d fantastic bow rs,\\nWaving aloft their tow ring branches proud,\\nIn borrow d tinges from the eastern cloud,\\nGave inspiration, pure as ever flow d.\\nAnd genuine transport in his bosom glow d\\nHis own shrill matin join d the various notes\\nOf Nature s music, from a thousand throats\\nThe Blackbird strove with emulation sweet,\\nAnd Echo answer d from her close retreat\\nThe sporting White-throat on some twig s end\\nborne,\\nPour d hymns to freedom and the rising mom\\nStopt in her song, perchance the starting Thrush\\nShook a white shower fiom the black-thorn bush,\\nWhere dew-drops thick as early blossoms hung,\\nAnd trembled as the minstrel sweetly sung.\\nAcross his path, in either grove to hide,\\nThe timid Rabbit scouted by his side\\nOr Pheasant fioldly stalk d along the road,\\nWhose gold and purple tints alternate glow d.\\nBut groves no further fenc d the devious way\\nA wide extended heath before him lay.\\nWhere on the grass the stagnant show r had run,\\nAnd shone a mirror to the rising sun,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "SPRING. 31\\nThus doubly seen to light a distant wood,\\nTo give new life to each expanding bud,\\nAnd chase away the dewy foot-marks found,\\nWhere prowling Reynard trod his nightly round\\nTo sliun whose thefts was Giles s evening care,\\nHis feather d victims to suspend in air,\\nHigh on the bough that nodded o er his head,\\nAnd thus each morn to strew the field with dead.\\nHis simple errand done, he homeward hies\\nAnother instantly its place supplies.\\nThe clattering Dairy-maid, immers d in steam.\\nSinging and scrubbing, midst her milk and cream,\\nBawls out, Go fetch the Cows he hears no\\nmore;\\nFor pigs, and ducks, and turkeys throng the door,\\nAnd sitting hens, for constant war prepar d\\nA concert strange to that which late he heard.\\nStraight to the meadow then he whistling goes\\nWith well-known halloo calls his lazy Cows\\nDown the rich pasture heedlessly they graze,\\nOr hear the summons with an idle gaze\\nFor well they know the cow-yard yields no more\\nIts tempting fragrance, nor its wint ry store.\\nReluctance marks their steps, sedate and slow\\nThe right of conquest all tlie law they know\\nThe strong press on, the weak by turns succeed,\\nAnd one superior always takes the lead\\nIs ever foremost, wheresoe er they stray\\nAllow d precedence, undisputed sway", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "32 THE farmer s boy.\\nWith jealous pride her station is maintain d,\\nFor many a broil that post of honour gain d.\\nAt home, the yard affords a grateful scene\\nFor Spring makes e en a miry cow-yard clean.\\nThence from its chalky bed behold convey d\\nThe rich manure that drenching Winter made,\\nW^hich pil d near home grows green with many\\na weed,\\nA promis d nutriment for Autumn s seed.\\nForth comes the Maid, and like the morning\\nsmiles\\nThe Mistress too, and follow d close by Giles.\\nA friendly tripod forms their humble seat,\\nWith pails bright scour d, and delicately sweet.\\nWhere shadowing elms obstruct the morning ray,\\nBegins the work, begins the solemn lay\\nThe fuU-charg d udder yields its willing streams.\\nWhile Mary sings some lover s amorous dreams\\nAnd crouching Giles, beneath a neighbouring\\ntree,\\nJ ugs o er his pail, and chaunts with equal glee;\\nWhose hat with tatter d brim, of nap so bare,\\nFrom the cow s side purloins a coat of hair,\\nA mottled ensign of his harmless trade,\\nAn unambitious, peaceable cockade.\\nAs unambitious too that cheerful aid\\nThe Mistress yields beside her rosy Maid\\nWith joy she views her plenteous reeking store,\\nAnd bears a brimmer to the dairy-door", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "SI KING. 33\\nHer Cows dismiss d the luscious mead to roam,\\nTill eve again recalls them loaded home.\\nAnd now the DAiiir claims her choicest care,\\nAnd half her household find employment there\\nSlow rolls the churn, its load of clogging cream\\nAt once foregoes its quality and name\\nFrom knotty particles first floating wide.\\nCongealing butter s dash d from side to side\\nStreams of new milk through flowing coolers\\nstray.\\nAnd snow-white curd abounds, and wholesome\\nwhey.\\nDue north th unglazed windows, cold and clear.\\nFor warming sunbeams are unwelcome here.\\nBrisk goes the work beneath each busy hand,\\nAnd Giles must trudge, whoever gives command\\nA GiREONiTE, that serv d them aU by turns\\nHe drains the pump, from him the faggot burns\\nFrom him the noisy hogs demand their food\\nWhile at his heels run many a chirping brood,\\nOr down his path in expectation stand.\\nWith equal claims upon his strewing hand.\\nThus wastes the morn, till each with pleasure sees\\nThe bustle o er, and press d the new-made cheese.\\nUnrivall d stands thy country Cheese, O Gile.\\nWhose very name alone engenders smiles;\\nWhose fame abroad by every tongue is spoke,\\nThe well-known butt of many a flinty joke,\\n3", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "!i THE FAKMEll S EOT.\\nThat pass like current coin the nation through\\nAnd, uh experience proves the satire true.\\nProvision s grave, thou ever craving mart,\\nDependent, huge MetropoUs where Art\\nHer poring thousands stows in breathless rooms,\\nMidst pois nous smokes and steams, and rattling\\nlooms\\nWhere Grandeur revels in unbounded stores\\nRestraint, a slighted stranger at their doors!\\nThou, like a whirlpool, drain st the country round,\\nTill JiOndon Market, London price, resound\\nThrough every town, round every passing load,\\nAnd dairy produce throngs the eagtern road\\nDelicious veal, and butter every hour.\\nFrom Essex lowlands, and the banks of Stour\\nAnd further far, where numerous herds repose,\\nFrom Orwell s brink, from Waveny, or Ouse.\\nHence iSuftblk dairy-wives run mad for cream.\\nAnd leave their milk with nothing but its name\\nIts name derision and reproach pursue,\\nAnd strangers tell of three times skimm d sky\\nblue.\\nTo cheese converted, what can be its boast\\nWhat but the common virtues of a post 1\\nIf drought o ertake it faster than the knife,\\nMost fair it bids for stubborn length of life.\\nAnd like the oaken shelf whereon tis laid.\\nMocks the weak etlbrts of the bending blade\\nOr in the hog-trough rests in perfect spite,\\nToo big to swallow, and too hard to bite.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "SPKINO. 35\\nInglorious victory Ye Cheshire meads,\\nOr Severn s flow ry dales where Plenty treads,\\nWas your rich milk to suffer wrongs like these,\\nFarewell your pride! farewell renowned cheese!\\nThe skimmer dread, whose ravages alone\\nThus turn the mead s sweet nectar into stone.\\nNerlected now the early daisy lies\\nNor thou, pale primrose, bloom st the only prize\\nAdvancing Sprixo profusely spreads abroad\\nFlow rs of all hues, with sweetest fragrance\\nstor d\\nWhere er she treads. Love gladdens every plain,\\nDelight on tiptoe bears her lucid train;\\nSweet Hope with conscious brow before her flies,\\nAnticipating wealth from summer skies;\\nAll Nature feels her renovating sway\\nThe sheep-fed pasture, and the meadow gay,\\nAnd trees, and shrubs, no longer budding seen,\\nDisplay the new-grown branch of lighter green\\nOn airy downs the idling Shepherd lies,\\nAnd sees to-morrow in the marbled skies.\\nHere then, my soul, thy darling theme pursue,\\nFor every day was Giles a shepheku too.\\nSmall was his charge no wilds had they to\\nroam.\\nBut bright inclosures circling round their home.\\nNo yellow-blossom d furze, nor stubborn thorn.\\nThe heath s rough produce, had their fleeces torn,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "3b THE FAKMEli s JliuV.\\nYet ever roving, ever seeking thee,\\nEnchanting spirit, dear A ^ariety\\nO happy tenants, prisoners of a day\\nReleas d to ease, to pleasure, and to play\\nIndulg d through every field by turns to range,\\nAnd taste them all in one coniinual change.\\nFor though luxuriant their grassy food,\\nSheep long confin d but loathe the present good\\nBleating around the homeward gate they meet,\\nAnd starve, and pine, with plenty at their feet.\\nLoos d from the winding lane, a joyful throng,\\nSee, o er yon pasture how they pour along\\nGiles round their boundaries takes his usual stroll\\nSees every pass secur d, and fences .whole\\nHigh fences, proud to charm the gazing eye.\\nWhere many a nestling first essays to fly\\nWhere blows the woodbine, faintly streak d with\\nred.\\nAnd rests on every bough its tender head\\nRound the young ash its twining branches meet,\\nOr crown the hawthorn with its odours sweet.\\nSay, ye that know, ye who have felt and seen\\nSpringes morning smiles, and soul enliv ning green,\\nSay, did you give the thrilUng transport way\\nDid your eye brighten, when young lambs at play\\nLeap d o er your path with animated pride\\nOr gaz d in merry clusters by your side?\\nYe who can smile, to wisdom no disgrace.\\nAt the arch meaning of a kitten s face", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "spraNG. 37\\nIf spotless innocence, and infant mirth,\\nExcites to praise, or gives reflection birth,\\nIn shades hke these pursue your fav rite joy,\\nMidst Nature s revels, sports that never cloy.\\nA few begin a short but vigorous race,\\nAnd Indolence abash d soon flies the place\\nThus, challeng d forth, see thither one by one,\\nFrom every side assembling playnip^ ^s run\\nA thousand wily antics mark their stay,\\nA starting crowd, impatient of delay.\\nLike the fond dove from fearful prison freed,\\nEach seems to say, Come, let us try our speed\\nAway they scour, impetuous, a-dent, strong,\\nThe green turf trembhng as they bound along\\nAdown the slope, then up the hillock climb.\\nWhere every molehill is a bed of thyme\\nThere panting stop yet scarcely can refrain\\nA bird, a leaf, will set them ofl again\\nOr, if a gale with strength unusual blow,\\nScatt ring the wild-brier roses into snow,\\nTheir little hmbs increasing eli orts try.\\nLike the torn flower the fair assemblage fly.\\nAh, fallen rose sad emblem of their doom\\nFrail as thyself, they perish while they bloom\\nThough unoflfending Innocence may plead,\\nThough frantic ewes may mourn the savage deed,\\nTheir shepherd comes, a messenger of blood.\\nAnd drives them bleating from their sports and\\nfood.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "38 THE farmer s boy.\\nCare loads his brow, and pity wrings his heart,\\nFor lo, the murd ring Butciikr, with his cart,\\nDemands the firstlings of the flock to die,\\nAnd makes a sport of life and liberty\\nHis gay companions Giles beholds no more\\nClos d are their eyes, their fleeces drench d in gore\\nNor can Compassion, with her softest notQs,\\nWithhold the knife that plunges in their throats.\\nDown, indignation hence, ideas foul\\nAway the shocking image from my soul\\nLet kindlier visitants attend my way.\\nBeneath approaching l^ummer^s fervid ray;\\nNor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy,\\nWhilst the sweet theme is universal joy.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "THE FARMER S BOY.\\nSUMMER.\\n(39)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "ARGUMENT.\\nTURNIP. SOWING. -WHEAT RIPENING. SPARROAVS.\\nINSECTS. THE SKY-LARK. REAPING, ETC.\\nHARVEST FIELD. DAIRY-MAID, ETC. LABOURS\\nOF THE BARN. THE GANDER. NIGHT. THUN-\\nDER STORM. HARVEST-HOME. REFLECTIONS.\\n(40)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "SUMMER.\\nThe Farmer s life displays in every part\\nA moral lesson to the sensual heart.\\nThough in the lap of Plenty, thoughtful still,\\nHe looks beyond the present good or i^\\nNor estimates alone one blessing s worth,\\nFrom changeful seasons, or capricious earth f\\nBut views the future with the present hours,\\nAnd looks for lailures as he looks for showers;\\nFor casual as for certain want prepares.\\nAnd round his yard the reeking haystack rears\\nOr clover, blossom d lovely to the sight.\\nHis team s rich store through many a wint ry\\nnip^ it.\\nN ^liat thu igh abundance round his dwelling\\nspread:-,\\ni hough ever moist his self-improving meads\\nSupply his dairy with a copious flood,\\nAnd seems to promise unexhausted food\\nThat promise fails, when buried deep in snow,\\nAnd vegetative juices cease to flow.\\nFor this, his plough turns up the destin d lands,\\nWhence stormy Winter draws its full demands;\\n(41)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "4i THE FARMER S EOY.\\nFor this, the seed minutely small he sows,\\nWhence, sound and sweet, the hardy turnip grows.\\nBut how unlike to April s dosing days!\\nHigh climbs the sun, and darts Iiis powerful rays;\\nWhitens the fresh-drawn mould and pierces\\nthrough\\nThe cumb rous clods that tumble round the plough.\\nO er heaven s bright azure, hence with joyful eyes\\nThe Farmer sees dark clouds assembling rise;\\nBorne o er his fields a heavy torrent falls,\\nAnd strikes the earth in hasty driving squalls.\\nRight welcome down, ye precious drops, he\\ncries;\\nBut soon, too soon, the partial blessing flies.\\nBoy, bring the harrows, try how deep the rain\\nHas forced its way. He comes, but comes in\\nvain\\nDry dust beneath the bubbling surface lurks.\\nAnd mocks his pains the more, the more he works.\\nStill, midst huge clods, he plunges on forlorn,\\nThat laugh his harrows and the showers to scorn.\\nE en thus the living clod, the stubborn fool,\\nResists the stormy lectures of the school,\\nTill tried with gentler means, the dunce to please,\\nHis head imbibes right reason by degrees;\\nAs when from eve till morning s wakeful hour,\\nLight, constant rain evinces secret pow r,\\nAnd, ere the day resumes its wonted smiles,\\nPresents a cheerful easy task for Giles.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "SUMMER. 43\\nDown with a touch the mellow soil is laid,\\nAnd yon tall crop next claims his timely aid.\\nThither well-pleas d he hies, assur d to find\\nWild trackless haunts, and objects to his mind.\\nShut up from broad rank blades that droop\\nbelow,\\ni he nodding wheat-ear forms a graceful bow,\\nWith milky kernels starting full wcigh d down,\\nEre yet the sun hath ting d its head with brown.\\nThere thousands in a flock, for ever gay,\\nJjoud chirping Sparrows welcome on the day,\\nAnd from the mazes of the leafy thorn\\nDrop one by one upon the bending corn.\\nGiles with a pole assails their close retreats.\\nAnd round the grass-grown dewy border beats.\\nOn either side completely overspread.\\nHere branches bend, there corn o erstoops his\\nhead.\\nGreen covert, hail for through the varying year\\nNo hours so sweet, no scene to him so dear.\\nHere Wisdom s placid eye delighted sees\\nHis frequent intervals of lonely ease.\\nAnd with one ray his infant soul inspires,\\nJust kindling there her never-dying fires.\\nWhence solitude derives peculiar charms\\nAnd heaven-directed thought his bosom warms.\\nJust where the parting bough s light shadows\\nplay,\\nScarce in the shade, nor in the scorching day,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "44 THE farmer s boy.\\nStretch d on the turf he Ues, a peopled bed,\\nWhere swarming insects creep around his head.\\nThe small dust-colour d beetle climbs with pain\\nO er the smooth plantain leaf, a spacious plain\\nThence higher still, by countless steps convey d,\\nHe gains the summit of a shiv ring blade,\\nAnd flirts his filmy wings, and looks around,\\nExulting in his distance from the ground.\\nThe tender speckled moth here dancing seen,\\nJ he vaulting grasshopper of glossy green,\\nAnd all prolific Suniiner s sporting train,\\nJ heir little lives by various powers sustain.\\nBut wh it can unassisted vision do 1\\nWhat, but recoil where most it would pursue;;\\nHis patient gaze but finish with a sigh,\\nWhen Music waking speaks the sky-Iwk nigh.\\nJust starting from the corn, he cheerly sings,\\nAnd trusts with conscious pride his downy\\nwings\\nStill louder breathes, and in the face of day\\nMounts up, and calls on Giles to mark his way-\\nClose to his eyes, his hat he instant bends,\\nAnd forms a friendly telescope, that lends\\nJust aid enough to dull the glaring light.\\nAnd place the wand ring bird before his sight,\\nThat oft beneath a light cloud sweeps along,\\nI.ost for a while, yet pours the varied song\\nThe eye still follows, and the cloud moves by,\\nAgain he stretches up the clear blae sky", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "SUMMER. 4rj\\nHis form, his motion, undistinguish d quite,\\nSave when he wheels direct from shade to light\\nE en then the songster a mere speck became,\\nGliding like fancy s bubbles in a dream,\\nThe gazer sees but yielding to repose,\\nUnwittingly his jaded eyelids close.\\nDelicious sleep From sleep who could forbear,\\nWith guilt no more than Giles, and no more\\ncare\\nPeace o er his slumbers waves her guardian wing.\\nNor Conscience once disturbs him with a sting;\\nHe wakes refresh d from every trivial pain,\\nAnd takes his pole, and brushes round again.\\nIts dark green hue, its sicklier tints all fail.\\nAnd ripening Harvest rustles in the gale.\\nA glorious sight, if glory dwells below,\\nWhere Heaven s munificence makes all things\\nshow\\nO er every field and golden prospect found.\\nThat glads the Ploughman s Sunday Morning s\\nround,\\nWhen on some eminence he takes his stand,\\nTo judge the smihng produce of the land.\\nHere Vanity slinks back, her head to hide\\nWhat is there here to flatter human pride 1\\nThe tovv ring fabric, or the dome s loud roai,\\nAnd steadfast columns may astonish ijiore,\\nWhere the charm d gazer long delighlfd stays.\\nYet trac d but to the architect the praise", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "4o TnE farmer s boy.\\nWhilst here, the veriest clown that treads the sod\\nWithout one scruple gives the praise to God\\nAnd twofold joys possess his raptur d mind,\\nFrom gratitude and admiration join d.\\nHere, midst the boldest triumphs of her worth\\nNaturk herself invites the ricapers forth;\\nDares the keen sickle from its twelvemonth s rest,\\nAnd gives that ardour which in every breast\\nFrom infancy to age alike appears,\\nWhen the first sheaf its plumy top uprears.\\nNo rake takes here what Heaven to all bestows\\nChildren of want, tor yon the bounty flows\\nAnd every cottage from the plenteous store\\nReceives a burden nightly at its door.\\nHark where the sweeping scythe now ript\\nalong\\nEach sturdy Mower, emulous and strong,\\nWhose writhing form meridian heat defies,\\nBends o er his work, and every sinew tries:\\nProsirates the waving treasure at his feet,\\nBut spares the rising clover, short and sweet.\\nCome, Hkaltii come, Jo//,/// light-footed come\\nHere hold your revels, and make this your home\\nEach heart awaits and hails you as its own\\nEach moisten d brow, that scorns to wear a frown\\nTh unpeopled dwelling mourns its tenants stray d\\nE en the domestic laughing dairy-maid", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "SUMMER. 47\\nHies to the field, the general toil to share.\\nMeanwhile the Farmer quits his elbow-chair,\\nHis cool brick floor, his pitcher, and his ease,\\nAnd braves the sultry beams, and gladly sees\\nHis gates thrown open, and his team abroad,\\nThe ready group attendant on his word,\\nTo turn the swath, the quiv ring load to rear,\\nOr ply the busy rake, the land to clear.\\n!Summer light garb itself now cumb rous grown,\\nEach his tbin doublet in the shade throws down\\nWhere oft the Mastiff skulks with half-shut eye,\\nAnd rouses at the stranger passing by\\nWhile unrestrained the social converse flows,\\nAnd every breast Love s powerful impulse knows.\\nAnd rival wits with more than rustic grace\\nConfess the presence of a pretty face.\\nFor, lo encircled there, the lovely Maid,\\nIn youth s own bloom and native smiles array d\\nHer hat awry, divested of her gown.\\nHer creaking stays of leather, stout and brown.\\nInvidious barrier why art thou so high,\\nWhen the slight coveiing of her neck slip!* by,\\nThere half revealing to the eager sight\\nHer full-ripe bosom, exquisitely while?\\nIll many a local tale of harmless mirth.\\nAnd many a joke of momentary birth,\\nShe bears a part, and as she stops to speak,\\nStrokes back the ringlets from her glowing check.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "48 THE FARMEPv .S BOY.\\nIMow noon gone by, and four declining hours,\\nThe weary hmbs relax their boasted pow rs\\nThirst rages strong, the fainting spirits lail,\\nAnd ask the sov reign cordial, home-brew d ale\\nBeneath some shelt ring heap of yellow corn\\nRests the hoop d keg, and friendly cooling horn,\\nThat mocks alike the goblet s brittle frame,\\nIts costlier potions, and its nobler name.\\nTo Mary first the brimming draught is given,\\nBy toil made welcome as the dews of heaven,\\nAnd never lip that press d its homely edge\\nHad kinder blessings or a heartier pledge.\\nOf wholesome viands here a banquet smiles,\\nA common cheer for all e en humble Giles,)\\nWho joys his trivial services to yield\\nAmidst the fragrance of the open field,\\nOft doom d in suflibcating heat to bear\\nThe cobweb d barn s impure and dusty air^\\nTo ride in murky state the panting steed,\\nDestin d aloft th unloaded grain to tread,\\nWhere, in his path as heaps on heaps are thrown,\\nHe rears, and plunges the loose mountain down,\\nLaborious task with what delight when done\\nBoth horsp and rider greet th unclouded sun\\nYet by th unclouded sun are hourly bred\\nThe bold assailants that surround thine head,\\nPoor patient Ball and with insulting wing\\nRoar hi thine ears, and dart the piercing sting.\\nIn thy behalf, the crest- wav d boughs avail\\nMore than thy short-clipt remnant of a tail,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "SUMJIEK. 49\\nA moving mockery, a useless name,\\n.A living proof of cruelty and shame.\\nShame to the man, whatever fame he bore,\\nWho took from thee what man can ne er restore,\\nThy weapon of defence, thy chiefest good,\\nWhen swarming flies contending suck thy blood\\nNor thine alone the suifering, thine the care\\nThe fretful Ewe bemoans an equal share.\\nTormented into sores, her head she hides.\\nOr angry sweeps them from her new-shorn sides.\\nPenn d in the yard, e en now at closing day\\nUnruly Cows with mark d impatience stay,\\nAnd vainly striving to escape their foes,\\nThe pail kick down a piteous current flows.\\nIs t not enough that plagues like these molest\\nMust still another foe annoy their rest\\nHe comes, the pest and terror of the yard.\\nHis full-fledg d progeny s imperious guard\\nThe Gander; spiteful, insolent, and bold,\\nAt the Colt s footlock takes his daring hold\\nThere, serpent-like, escapes a dreadful blow.\\nAnd straight attacks a poor defenceless cow\\nEach booby goose th unworthy strife enjoys.\\nAnd hails his prowess with redoubled noise.\\nThen back he stalks, of self-importance full,\\nSeizes the shaggy foretop of the bull,\\nTill whirl d aloft he falls a timely check.\\nEnough to dislocate his worthless neck", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "50 THE fak.aier s bov.\\nFor lo! of olil he boasts an honour d wound;\\nBehold that broken wing that trails the ground\\nThus fools and bravoes kindred pranks pursue\\nAs savage quite, and oft as fatal loo.\\nHappy the man that foils an envious elf,\\nUsing the darts of spleen to serve himself.\\nAs when by turns the strolling swine engage\\nThe utmost ertbrts of the bully s rage,\\nWhose nibbling warfare on the grunter s side\\nIs welcome pleasure to his bristly hide\\nGently he stoops, or lays himself along,\\nEndures the insults of the gabbling throng,\\nThat march exulting round his fallen head,\\nAs human victors trample on their dead.\\nStill twilight welcome rest, how sweet art thou!\\nNow eve o erhangs the western cloud s thick brow\\nThe far-stretch d curtain of retiring light.\\nWith fiery treasures fraught, that on the sight\\nFlash from its bulging sides, where darkness lours\\nIn Fancy s eye, a chain of mould ring tow rs;\\nOr craggy coasts just rising into view,\\nMidst jav lins dire, and darts of streaming blue.\\nAnon tired labourers bless their shelt ring home.\\nWhen midnight and the frightful tempest come.\\nThe farmer wakes, and sees with silent dread\\nThe angry shafts of Heaven gleam round his bed\\nThe bursting cloud reiterated roars,\\nShakes his straw roof, and jars his bolted doors", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "SUMMER. 5l\\nThe slow-vving d storm along the troubled skies\\nSpreads its dark course the wind begins to rise\\nAnd full-leaved elms, his dwelling s shade by day,\\nWith mimic thunder give its fury way:\\nSounds in his chimney top a doleful peal,\\nMidst pouring rain, or gusts of rattling hail,\\nWith tenfold danger low the tempest bends,\\nAnd quick and strong the sulphurous flame de-\\nscends\\nThe fright ned mastiff from his kennel flies,\\nAnd cringes at the door with piteous cries.\\nWhere now s the triflerl where the child of\\npride 1\\nThese are the moments when the heart is tried\\nNor lives the man with conscience e er so clear\\nBut feels a solemn, reverential fear:\\nFeels too a joy relieve his aching breast,\\nWhen the spent storm hath howl d itself to rest.\\nStill welcome beats the long-continued shower.\\nAnd sleep protracted comes with double power\\nCalm dreams of bliss bring on the morning sun,\\nFor every barn is fill d, and Harvest done\\nNow, ere sweet Summer bids its last adieu,\\nAnd winds blow keen where late the blossom\\ngrew,\\nThe bustUng day and jovial night must come,\\nThe long accustom d feast of Harvest-home.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "52 THE farmer s boy.\\nNo blood-stain d victory, in story bright,\\nCan give tiie piiilosophic mind deligiit\\nNo triumph please while rage and death destroy\\nReflection sickens at the monstrous joy.\\nAnd where the joy, if rightly understood,\\nLike cheerful praise for universal good 1\\nThe soul nor check nor doubtful anguish knows.\\nBut free and pure the grateful current flows.\\nBehold the sound oak table s massy frame\\nBestride the kitchen floor the careful dame\\nAnd gen rous host invite their friends around\\nWhile all that clear d the crop, or till d the gr x)und,\\nAre guests by right of custom old and young,\\nAnd many a neighbouring yeoman, join the\\nthrong,\\nWith artizans that lent their dext rous aid,\\nWhen o er each field the flaming sunbeams\\nplay d.\\nYet Plenty reigns, and from her boundless\\nhoard.\\nThough not one jelly trembles on the board.\\nSupplies the feast with all that sense can crave\\nWith all that made our great forefathers brave,\\nEre the cloy d palate countless flavours tried,\\nAnd cooks had Nature s judgment set aside.\\nWith thanks to heaven, and tales of rustic lore\\nThe mansion echoes when the banquet s o er", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "SUMMER. 53\\nA wider circle spreads, and smiles abound,\\nAs quick the frothing horn performs its round;\\nCare s mortal foe that sprightly joys imparts\\nTo cheer the frame and elevate their hearts.\\nHere, fresh and brown, the hazel s produce lies\\nIn tempting heaps, and peals of laughter rise,\\nAnd crackling music, with the frequent song,\\nUnheeded bear the midnight hour along.\\nHere once a year distinction lowers its crest,\\nThe master, servant, and the merry guest,\\nAre equal all and round the happy ring\\nThe reaper s eyes exulting glances fling,\\nAnd, warm d with gratitude, he quits his place,\\nWith sun-burnt hands and ale-enliven d face,\\nRefills the jug his honour d host to tend.\\nTo serve at once the master and the friend\\nProud thus to meet his smiles, to share his tale,\\nHis nats, his conversation, and his ale.\\nSuch were the days, of days long past I sing,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWhen pride gave place to mirth without a sting\\nEre tyrant customs strength sufficient bore\\nTo violate the feelings of the poor\\nTo leave them distanc d in the madd ning race,\\nWhere er refinement shows its hated face\\nNor causeless hited tis the peasant s curse,\\nThat hourly makes his wretched station worse\\nDestroys hfe s intercourse; the social plan\\nThat rank to rank cements, as man to man", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "54 THE farmer s boy.\\nWealth flows around him, fashion lordly reigns;\\nYet poverty is his, and mental pains.\\nMethinks I hear the mourner thus impart\\nThe stifled murmurs of his wounded heart\\nWhence comes this change, ungracious, irk-\\nsome, cold 1\\nWhence the new grandeur that mine eyes be*\\nhold 1\\nThe wid ning distance which I daily see.\\nHas wealth done this then wealth s a foe to\\nme;\\nFoe to our rights; that leaves a powerful few\\nThe paths of emulation to pursue\\nFor emulation stoops to us no more\\nThe hope of humble industry is o er;\\nThe blameless hope, the cheering sweet presage\\nOf future comforts for declining age.\\nCan my sons share from this parental hand\\nThe profits with the labours of the land\\nNo; though indulgent Heaven its blessing deigns,\\nWhere s the small farm to suit my scanty means*\\nContent, the poet sings, with us resides;\\nIn lonely cols like mine the damsel hides\\nAnd will he then in raptur d visions tell\\nThat sweet Content with Want can ever dwell?\\nA barley loaf, tis true, my table \u00e2\u0099\u00a6owns.\\nThat fast diminishing in lusty rounds,\\nStops Nature s cravings yet her sighs will flow\\nFrom knowing this, that once it was not so.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "SUMMEK. 55\\nOur annual feast, when Earth her plenty yields,\\nWhen crown d with boughs the last load quits\\nthe fields,\\nThe aspect still of ancient joys puts on\\nThe aspect only, with the substance gone:\\nThe self-same horn is still at our command,\\nBut serves none now but the plebeian hand;\\nFor home-brew d ale, neglected and debas d.\\nIs quite discarded from the realms of taste.\\nWhere unaffected freedom charm d the soul.\\nThe separate table and the costly bowl,\\nCool as the blast that checks the budding Spring,\\nA mockery of gladness round them fling.\\nFor oft the Farmer, ere his heart approves,\\nYields up the custom which he dearly loves.\\nRefinement rushes on him like a tide\\nBold innovations down its current ride,\\nThat bear no peace beneath their showy dress,\\nNor add one tittle to his happiness.\\nHis guests selected rank s punctilios known,\\nWhat trouble waits upon a casual frown\\nRestraint s foul manacles his pleasures maim\\nSelected guests selected phrases claim\\nNor reigns that joy when hand in hand they join\\nThat good old Master felt in shaking mine.\\nHeaven bless his memory bless his honour d\\nname\\n(The poor will speak his lasting worthy fame\\nTo souls fair purpos d strength and guidance give\\nIn pity to us still let goodness live", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "56 THE farmek s boy.\\nLet labour have its due my cot shall be\\nFrom chilling want and guilty murmurs free\\nLet labour have its due, then peace is mine,\\nAnd never, never shall my heart repine.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "THE FARMER S BOY.\\nAUTUMN.\\n(57)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "ARGUMENT.\\nACORNS. HOGS IN THE AVOOD. ^WHEAT SOIVINCr.\\nTHE CHURCH. VILLAGE GIRLS.-^HE MAD\\nGIRL. THE BIRD-r.OY s HUT. DISAPrOINT-\\nMENT: REFLECTIONS, ETC. EUSTON HALL.\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nFOX-HUNTING. OLD TROUNC^A. LONG NIGHTS.\\nA WELCOME TO WINTER.\\n(58)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "AUTUMN.\\nAgain, the year s decline, midst storms and\\nfloods,\\nThe thundering chase, the yellow fading woods,\\nInvite my song; that fain would boldly tell\\nOf upland coverts, and the echoing dell,\\nBy turns resounding loud, at eve and morn,\\nThe swmeherd s halloo, or the huntsman s horn.\\nNo more the fields with scatter d grain supply\\nThe restless wand ring tenants of the sty\\nFrom oak to oak they run with eager haste,\\nAnd wrangling share the first delicious taste\\nOf fallen acorns; yet but thmly found\\nTill the strong gale hath shook them to the ground.\\nIt comes and roaring woods obedient wave\\nTheir home well pleased the joint adventurers\\nleave\\nThe trudging sow leads forth her numerous young,\\nPlayful, and white, and clean, the briers among,\\nTill briers and thorns increasing, fence them round,\\nWhere last year s mould ring leaves bestrew the\\nground,\\n(59)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "60 THE farmer s boy.\\nAnd o er their heads, loud lash d by furious squalls,\\nBright from their cups the ratthng treasure falls;\\nHot thirsty food; whence doubly sweet and cool\\nThe welcome margin of some rush-grown pool,\\nThe wild duck s lonely haunt, whose jealous eye\\nGuards every point who sits prepared to fly\\nOn the calm bosom of her little lake,\\nToo closely screen d for ruffian winds to shake\\nAnd as the bold intruders press around,\\nAt once she starts, and rises with a bound\\nWith bristles rais d the sudden noise they hear,\\nAnd ludicrously wild, and wing d with fear,\\nThe herd decamp with more than swinish speed,\\nAnd snorting dash through sedge, and rush, and\\nreed\\nThrough tangling thickets headlong on they go,\\nThen stop and listen for their fancied foe\\nThe hindmost still the growing panic spreads,\\nRepeated fright the first alarm succeeds,\\nTill Folly s wages, wounds and thorns, they reap\\nYet glorying in their fortunate escape.\\nTheir groundless terrors by degrees soon cease,\\nAnd Night s dark reign restores their wonted\\npeace.\\nFor now the gale subsides, and from each bough\\nThe roosting pheasant s short but frequent crow\\nInvites to rest and huddling side by side.\\nThe herd in closest ambush seek to hide\\nSeek some warm slope, with shagged moss o er-\\nspread,\\nDry d leaves their copious covering and their bed.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "AUTUMN. 61\\nIn vain may Giles, through gath ring glooms that\\nfall,\\nAnd solemn silence, urge his piercing call\\nWhole days and nights they tarry midst their\\nstore.\\nNor quit the woods till oaks can yield no more.\\nBeyond bleak Winter s rage, beyond the Spring\\nThat rolling Earth s unvarying course will bring,\\nWho tills the ground looks on with mental eye.\\nAnd sees next Summer s sheaves and cloudless\\nsky.\\nAnd even now, whilst Nature s beauty dies.\\nDeposits Seed, and bids new harvests rise\\nSeed well prepared and warm d with glowing lime\\nGainst earth-bred grubs, and cold, and lapse of\\ntime\\nFor searching frosts and various ills invade,\\nWhilst wint ry months depress the springing\\nblade.\\nThe plough moves heavily, and strong the soil.\\nAnd clogging harrows with augmented toil\\nDive deep and chnging, mixes with the mould\\nA fatt ning treasure from the nightly fold,\\nAnd all the cow-yard s highly valued store,\\nThat late bestrew d the blacken d surface o er.\\nNo idling hours are here, when Fancy trims\\nHer dancing taper over outstretch d limbs,\\nAnd in her thousand thousand colours drest.\\nPlays round the grassy couch of noontide rest", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "G2 THE fakmek s bot.\\nHere Giles for hours of indolence atones\\nWith strong exertion and with weary bones,\\nAnd knows no leisure; till the distant chime\\nOf Sabbath bells he hears at sermon time,\\nThat down the brook sound sweetly in the gale,\\nOr strike the rising hill, or skim the dale.\\nNor his alone the sweets of ease to taste\\nKind rest extends to all save one poor beast,\\nThat, true to time and pace, is doom d to plod,\\nTo bring the pastor to the House of God\\nMean structure; where no bones of heroes lie!\\nThe rude inelegance of poverty\\nReigns here alone; else why that roof of straw?\\nThose narrow windows with a frequent flaw 1\\nO er whose low cells the dock and mallow spread,\\nAnd rampant nettles lift the spiry head,\\nWhilst from the hollows of the tower on high\\nThe gray-capp d daws in saucy legions fly.\\nRound these lone walls assembling neighbours\\nmeet,\\nAnd tread departed friends beneath their feet\\nAnd new-brier d graves, that prompt the secret sigh,\\nShow each the spot where he himself must lie.\\nMidst timely greetings village news goes round,\\nOf crops late shorn, or crops that deck the ground\\nExperienced ploughmen in the circle join;\\nWhile sturdy boys, in feats of strength to shine,\\nWith pride elate their young associates brave\\nThat jump from hollow-sounding grave to grave", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "AUTUMN. 63\\nThen close consulting, each his talent lends\\nTo plan fresh sports when tedious service ends.\\nHither at times, with cheerfulness of soul,\\nSweet village Maids from neighbouring hamlets\\nstroll,\\nThat like the light-heel d does o er lawns that rove.\\nLook shyly curious; rip ning into love;\\nFor love s their errand hence the tints that glow\\nOn either cheek, a heighten d lustre know\\nWhen conscious of their charms, e en Age looks\\nsly,\\nAnd rapture beams from Youth s observant eye.\\nThe pride of such a party, Nature s pride,\\nWas lovely Ann who innocently tried,\\nWith hat of airy shape and ribbons gay,\\nLove to inspire, and stand in Hymen s way\\nBut ere her twentieth summer could expand,\\nOr youth was render d happy with her hand,\\nHer mind s serenity, her peace was gone,\\nHer eye grew languid, and she wept alone\\nyet causeless seem d her grief; for quick restrain d,\\nMirth follow d loud, or indignation reign d\\nWhims wild and simple led her from her home,\\nThe heath, the common, or the fields to roam 1\\nTerror and joy alternate ruled her hours:\\nNow blithe she sang, and gather d useless flow rs\\nNow pluck d a tender twig from every bough,\\nTo whip the hov ring demons from her brow.\\nIll-fated Maid thy guiding spark is fled.\\nAnd lasting wretchedness awaits thy bed", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "64 THE farmer s coy.\\nThy bed of straw for mark, where even now\\nO er their lost child afflicted parents bow\\nTheir woe she knows not, but perversely coy,\\nInverted customs yield her sullen joy\\nHer midnight meals in secresy she takes,\\nLow mutt ring to the moon, that rising breaks\\nThro night s dark gloom oh, how much more\\nforlorn\\nHer night, that knows of no returning morn\\nSlow from the threshold, once her infant seat,\\nO er the cold earth she crawls to her retreat\\nQuitting the cot s warm walls unhoused to lie.\\nOr share the swine s impure and narrow sty\\nThe damp night air her shiv ring limbs assails\\nIn dreams she moans, and fancied wrongs bewails.\\nWhen morning wakes, none earlier roused than\\nshe,\\nWhen pendent drops fall glitt ring from the tree.\\nBut nought her rayless melancholy cheers.\\nOr soothes her breast, or stops her streaming tears.\\nHer matted locks unornamented flow\\nClasping her knees, and waving to and fro\\nHer head bow d down, her faded cheek to hide\\nA piteous mourner by the pathway side.\\nSome tufted molehill through the livelong day\\nShe calls her throne there weeps her life away\\nAnd oft the gaily passing stranger stays\\nHis well-timed step, and takes a silent gaze,\\nTill sympathetic drops unbidden start,\\nAnd pangs quick springing muster round his\\nheart", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "AUTUMN. 65\\nAnd soft he treads with other gazers round,\\nAnd fain would catch her sorrow s plaintive\\nsound.\\nOne word alone is all that strikes the ear,\\nOne short, pathetic, simple word, Oh dear\\nA thousand times repeated to the wind.\\nThat wafts the sigh, but leaves the pang behind\\nFor ever of the proffer d parley sh)\\nShe hears the unwelcome foot advancing nigh\\nNor quite unconscious of her wretched plight.\\nGives one sad look, and hurries out of sight.\\nFair promised sunbeams of terrestrial bliss,\\nHealth s gallant hopes, and are ye sunk to this I\\nFor in life s road though thorns abundant grow.\\nThere still are joys poor Poll can never know\\nJoys which the gay companions of her prime\\nSip, as they drift along the stream of time;\\nAt eve to hear beside their tranquil home\\nThe lifted latch, that speaks the lover come\\nThat love matured, next playful on the knee\\nTo press the velvet lip of infancy\\nTo stay the tottering step, the features trace\\nInestimable sweets of social peace\\nO Thou, who bidd st the vernal juices rise\\nThou, on whose blasts autumnal foliage flies!\\nLet Peace ne er leave me, nor my heart grow cold,\\nWhilst life and sanity are mine to hold.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "66 THE farmer s boy.\\nShorn of their flow rs that sheJ th untreasured\\nseed,\\nThe withering pasture, and the fading mead,\\nLess tempting grown, diminish more and more,\\nThe dairy s pride sweet Summer s flowing s-tore.\\nIVew cares succeed, and gentler duties press,\\nWhere the lire-side, a school of tenderness,\\nRevives the languid chirp, and warms the blood\\nOf cold-nipt weaklings of the latter brood,\\nThat from the shell just bursting into day,\\nThrough yard or pond pursue their vent rous way.\\nFar weightier cares and wider scenes expand\\nWhat devastation marks the new-sown land\\nFrom hungry woodland foes, go, fcliles, and guard\\nThe rising wheat insure its great reward\\nA future sustenance, a Summer s pride,\\nDemand thy vigilance then be it tried\\nExert thy voice, and wield thy shotless gun\\nGo, tarry there from morn till setting sun.\\n,-Qi\\\\ b lavFS the blast, or ceaseless rain descends\\nThe ha!f-stript hedge a sorry shelter lends.\\nO for a hovel, e er so small or low,\\nWhose roof, repelling winds or early snow,\\nMight bring home s comforts fresh before his eyes\\nNo sooner thought, than see the structure rise,\\nIn some sequester d nook, embank d around,\\nSods for its walls, and straw in burdens bound\\nDried fuel hoarded is his richest store,\\nAnd circhng smoke obscures his little door", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "AUTUMN. 67\\nWlience creeping forth, to duty s call he yields,\\nAnd strolls the Crusoe of the lonely fields.\\nOn whitethorns towering, and the leafless rose,\\nA frost-nipt feast in bright vermilion glows,\\nWhere clust ring sloes iij glossy order rise.\\nHe crops the loaded branch a cumb rous prize\\nAnd o er the flame the sputtering fruit he rests,\\nPlacing green sods to seat his coming guests\\nHis guests by promise; playmates young and\\ngay:\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nBut ah fresh pastimes lure their steps away\\nHe sweeps his hearth, and homeward looks in vain,\\nTill feeling Disappointmenf s cruel pain,\\nHis fairy revels are exchanged for rage.\\nHis banquet marred, grown dull his hermitage.\\nThe field becomes his prison till on high\\nBenighted birds to shades and coverts fly.\\nMidst air, health, daylight, can he prisoner beT\\nIf fields are prisons. Where is Liberty 1\\nHere still she dwells, and here her votaries stroll\\nBut disappointed hope untunes the soul\\nRestraint s unfelt whilst hours of rapture flow,\\nWhen troubles press, to chains and barriers grow,\\nliook then from trivial up to greater woes\\nFrom the poor bird-boy with his roasted sloes,\\nTo where the dungeon d mourner heaves the sigh\\nW^here not one cheering sunbeam meets his eye.\\nThough ineflTectual pity thine may be.\\nNo wealth, no power, to set the captive free", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "63 piE farmer s boy.\\nThough only to thy ravish d sight is given\\nThe radiant path that Howard trod to Heaven\\nThy slights can make the wretched more forlorn,\\nAnd deeper drive affliction s harbed thorn.\\nSay not I ll come and cheer thy gloomy cell\\nWith news of dearest friends how good, how\\nwell\\nI ll be a joyful herald to thine heart\\nThen tail, and play the worthless trifler s part,\\nTo sip flat pleasures from thy glass s brim.\\nAnd v/aste the precious hour that s due to him.\\nIn mercy spare the base unmanly blow\\nWhere can he turn, to whom coipplain of you 1\\nBack to past joys in vain his thoughts may stray,\\nTrace and retrace the beaten worn-out way.\\nThe rankling injury will pierce his breast,\\nAnd curses on thee break his midnight rest.\\nBereft of song, and ever cheering green.\\nThe soft endearments of the Summer scene,\\nNew harmony pervades the solemn wood,\\nDear to the soul, and healthful to the blood\\nFor bold exertion follows on the sound\\nOf distant sportsmen and the chiding hound\\nFirst heard from kennel bursting, mad with joy,\\nWhere smiling Euston boasts her good Fitzroy,\\nliord of pure alms, and gifts that wide extend\\nJ he farmer s patron, and the poor man s friend.\\nWhose mansion glitters with the eastern ray.\\nWhose elevated temple points the way.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "AUTUMN. 69\\nO er slopes and lawns, the park s extensive pride,\\nTo where the victims of the chase reside,\\nIngulf d in eafth, in conscious safety warm,\\nJ ill lo a plot portends their coming harm.\\nIn earliest hours of dark unhooded morn,\\nEre yet one rosy cloud be.-peaks the dawn.\\nWhilst far abroad the fox pursues his prey,\\nHe s doom d to risk the perils of the day,\\nFrom his strong hold block d out perhaps to bleed,\\nOr owe his life to fortune or to speed.\\nFor now the pack, impatient rushing on,\\nRange through the darkest coverts one by one\\nI race every spot; whilst down each noble glade\\nThat guides the eye beneath a changeful shade,\\nThe loit ring sportsman feels the instinctive flame,\\nAnd checks his steed to mark the springing game.\\nMidst intersecting cuts and winding ways\\nThe huntsman cheers his dogs, and anxious strays\\nWhere every narrow riding, even shorn,\\nGives back the echo of his mellow horn\\nTill fresh and lightsome, every power untried,\\nThe starting fugitive leaps by his side,\\nHis lifted finger to his ear he plies.\\nAnd the view halloo bids a chorus rise\\nOf dogs quick-mouth d, and shouts that mingle\\nloud.\\nAs bursting thunder rolls from cloud to cloud.\\nWith ears erect, and crest of vig rous mould,\\nO er ditch, o er fence, unconquerably bold.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "70 THE FARMER S BOY.\\nThe shining courser lengthens every bound,\\nAnd his strong foot-locks suck the moisten d\\nground,\\nAs from the confines of the wood they pour,\\nAnd joyous villages partake the roar.\\nO er heath far stretch d, or down, or valley low,\\nThe stiff-Iimb d peasant, glorying in the show,\\nPursues in vain where youth itself soon tires,\\nSpite of the transports that the chase inspires\\nFor who unmounted long can charm the eye.\\nOr licar the music of the leading cry\\nPoor faithful Trouncer thou canst lead no\\nmore;\\nAll thy fatigues and all thy triumphs o er!\\nTriumphs of worth, Vv^hose honorary fame\\nWas still to follow true the hunted game\\nBeneath enormous oaks, Britannia s boast.\\nIn thick impenetrable coverts lost,\\nWhen the warm pack in fault ring silence stood,\\nThine was the note that rous d the list ning wood.\\nRekindling every joy with tenfold force.\\nThrough all the mazes of the tainted course\\nfStill foremost thou the dashing stream to cross,\\nAnd tempt along the animated horse;\\nForemost o er fen or level mead to pass,\\nAnd sweep the showering dew-drops from t\\ngrass\\nThen bright emerging from the mist below\\nTo climb the woodland hill s exulting brow.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "AUTUilX. 71\\nPride of thy race with worlii far less than thine\\nFull many human leaders daily shine\\nLess faith, less constancy, less gen rous zeal\\nThen no disgrace my humble verse shall feel,\\nWhere not one lying line to riches bows,\\nOr poison d sentiment from rancour flows;\\nZVor flow rs are strewn around Ambition s car:\\nAn honest dog s a nobler theme by far\\nEach sportsman heard the tidings with a sigh,\\nWhen Death s cold touch had stopp d his tuneful\\ncry;\\nAnd though high deeds, and fair exalted praise,\\nIn memory lived, and flow d in rustic lays.\\nShort was the strain of monumental woe:\\nFoXKS, REJOICE HERK IIURIEI) LIES YOUR\\nFOK.\\nIn safety housed, throughout Night s length-\\nning reign.\\nThe cock sends forth a loud and piercing strain\\nMore frequent, as the glooms of midnight flee.\\nAnd hours roll round that brought him liberty.\\nWhen Summer s early dawn, mild, clear, and\\nbright.\\nChased quick away the transitory night\\nHours now in darkness veil d yet loud the scream\\nOf geese impatient for the playful stream\\nAnd all the feather d tribe imprison d raise\\nTheir morning notes of inharmonious praise;\\nInscribed on a stone in Enston Park wall.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "t)i THE FARMER S BOY.\\nAnd many a clamorous hen and cockerel gay,\\nWhen daylight slowly through the fog breaks way,\\nFly wantonly abroad but ah, how soon\\nThe shades of twilight follow hazy noon,\\nShort ning the busy day day that slides by\\nAmidst the unfinished toils of husbandry\\nToils still each morn resumed with double care,\\nTo meet the icy terrors of the year\\nTo meet the threats of Boreas undismay d,\\nAnd Winter s gathering frowns and hoary head.\\nThen welcome, cold welcome, ye snowy nights\\nHeaven midst your rage shall nlingle pure delights,\\nAnd confidence of hope the soul sustain,\\nWhile devastation sweeps along the plain\\nNor shall the child of poverty despair,\\nBut bless the Power that rules the changing year\\nAssured, tho horrors round his cottage reign,\\nThat Spring will come, and Nature smile again.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "THE FARMER S BOY.\\nWINTER.\\n(73)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "ARGUMENT.\\nTENDERNESS TO CATTLE. FROZl^N TURNIPS. THE\\nCOW- YARD. NIGHT.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE FARM- HOUSE. FIRE-\\nSIDE. farmer s advice and INSTRUCT ON.\\nNIGHTLY CARES OF THE STABLE. DOBBIN. THE\\nPOST-HORSE. SHEEP-STEALING DOGS. WALKS\\nOCCASIONED THEREBY. THE CHOST. LAMB-\\nTIME. RETURNING SPRING. CONCLUSION.\\n(74)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "WINTER.\\nWiTii kindred pleasures moved, and cares op-\\npress d,\\nSharing alike our weariness and rest\\nWho lives the daily partner of our hours,\\nThrough every change of heat, of frost, and showers,\\nPartakes our cheerful meals, partaking first\\nIn mutual labour and in mutual thirst\\nThe kindly intercourse will ever prove\\nA bond of amity and social love.\\nTo more than man this gen rous warmth extends,\\nAnd oft the team and shiv ring herd befriends\\nTender solicitude the bosom fills,\\nAnd Pity executes what Reason wills\\nVouth learns compassion s tale from every tongue,\\nAnd flies to aid the helpless and the young\\nWhen now, unsparing as the scourge of war.\\nBlasts follow blasts, and groves dismantled roar,\\nAround their home the stofm pinch d cattle lows,\\nIVo nourishment in frozen pasture grows.\\nYet frozen pastures every morn resound\\nWith fair abundance thund ring to the ground.\\n(75)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "/b THE FARMER S BOY.\\nFor though on hoary twigs no buds peep out,\\nAnd e en the hardy bramble cease to sprout.\\nBeneath dread Winter s level sheets of snow\\nThe sweet nutritious turnip deigns to grow.\\nTill now imperious want and wide-spread dearth\\nBid Labour claim her treasures from the earth.\\nOn Giles, and such as Giles, the labour falls.\\nTo strew the frequent load where hunger calls.\\nOn driving gales sharp hail indignant flies,\\nAnd sleet, more irksome still, assails his eyes;\\nSnow clogs his feet; or if no snow is seen,\\nThe lield with all its juicy store to screen.\\nDeep goes the frost, till every root ds found\\nA mass of rolling ice upon the ground.\\nNo tender ewe can break her nightly fast,\\nNor heifer strong begin the cold repast,\\nTill Giles with pond rous beetle foremost go,\\nAnd scatt ring splinters fly at every blow\\nWhen pressing round him, eager tor the prize.\\nFrom their mix d breath warm exhalations rise.\\nIn beaded rows if snow-drops deck the spray\\nWhile Phoebus grants a momentary ray.\\nLet but a cloud s broad shadow intervene.\\nAnd stiffen d into gems the drops are seen\\nAnd down the furrow d oak s broad southern side\\nStreams of dissolving rime no longer glide.\\nThough Night approaching bids for rest prepare,\\nStill the flail echoes through the frosty air,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "WINTER. 77\\nNor stops till deepest shades of darkness come,\\n^^ending at length the weary labourer home.\\nFrom him, with bed and nightly food supplied,\\nThroughout the yard^oused round on every side,\\nDeep-plunging Cows their rustling feast enjoy.\\nAnd snatch sweet mouthfuls from the passing\\nboy,\\nWho moves unseen beneath his trailing load,\\nFills the tall racks, and leaves a scatter d road\\nWhere oft the swine from ambush warm and dry\\nBult out and scamper headlong to their sty,\\nhen Giles with well-known voice, already there,\\nDeigns them a portion of his evening care.\\nHim, tho the cold may pierce, and storms\\nmolest.\\nSucceeding hours shall cheer with warmth and\\nrest;\\nCiladness to spread, and raise the grateful smile,\\nHe hurls the faggot bursting from the pile,\\nAnd many a log and rifted trunk conveys,\\nTo heap the fire, and wide extend the blaze.\\nThat quivering strong through every opening flies,\\nWhilst smoky columns unobstructed rise.\\nFor the rude architect, unknown to fame,\\n(Xor symmetry nor elegance his aim)\\nW ho spread his floors of solid oak on high,\\nOn beams rough-hewn, from age to age that lie,\\n]iade his wide fabric unimpair d sustain\\nPomona s store, and cheese, and golden grain", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "78 THE faumek s boy.\\nBade from its central base, capacious laid,\\nThe weil-wrought chimney rear its lofty head\\nWhere since hath many a savoury ham been stored,\\nAnd tempests howl d, ai^ Christmas gambols\\nroar d.\\nFlat on the hearth the glowing embers lie,\\nAnd flames reflected dance in every eye\\nThere the long billet, forced at last to bend.\\nWhile gushing sap froths out at either end.\\nThrows round its welcome heat the ploughmar\\nsmiles,\\nAnd oft the joke runs hard on slieepish Giles,\\nWho sits joint-tenant of the corner stool,\\nThe converse shai-ing, though in duty s school\\nFor now attentively tis his to hear\\nInterrogations from the master s chair.\\nLeft yeyour bleatingcharge, when daylight fled,\\nNear where the hay-stack lifts its snowy head 1\\nWhose fence of bushy furze, so close and warm.\\nMay stop the slanting bullets of the storm.\\nFor, hark it blows a dark and dismal night\\nHeaven guide the traveller s fearful steps aright.\\nNow from the woods, mistrustful and sharp eyed,\\nThe Fox in silent darkness seems to glide,\\nStealing around us, listening as he goes\\nIf chance the cock or stammering capon crows,\\nOr goose, or nodding duck, should darkling cry,\\nAs if apprized of lurking danger nigh", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "Destruction waits them, Giles, if e er you fail\\nTo bolt their doors against the driving gale.\\nStrew d you (still mindful of th unshelter d head)\\nBurdens of straw, the cattle s welcome bed\\nThine heart should feel, what thou may st hourly\\nsee,\\nThai dutyls basis is humanity.\\nOf pain s unsavoury cup though thou may st\\ntaste,\\n(The wrath of Winter from the bleak north-east,)\\ni hine utmost sufferings in the coldest day\\nA period terminates, and joys repay-\\nPerhaps e en now, whilst here those joys we\\nboast,\\nFull many a bark rides down the neighbourin;^\\ncoast,\\nWhere the high northern waves tremendous\\nroar,\\nDrove down by blasts from Norway s icy shore.\\nJ he Sea-boy there, less fortunate than thou.\\nFeels all thy pains in all the gusts that blow\\nHis freezing hands now drench d, now dry, by\\nturns;\\nNow lo^t, now seen, the distant light that burns,\\nOn some tall clilf upraised, a flaming guide,\\nThat throws its friendly radiance o er the tide\\nHis labours cease not with declining day,\\nBut toils and perils mark his watery way\\nAnd whilst in peaceful dreams secure we lie,\\nThe rutljess ubir!v\\\\ind.-- rage along the sky.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "80 THE faumek s coy.\\nRound his head whistling and shall tiiou re-\\npine,\\nWhilst this protecting roof still shelters thine 1\\nMild as the vernal shower, his words prevail.\\nAnd aid the moral precept of his tale:\\nHis wond ring hearers learn, and ever keep\\nThese first ideas of the restless deep;\\nAnd, as the opening mind a circuit tries.\\nPresent felicities in value rise.\\nIncreasing pleasures every hour they find,\\ni he warmth more precious, and the shelter kind\\nWarmth that long reigning bids the eyelids close,\\nAs through the blood its balmy influence goes.\\nWhen the cheer d heart forgets fiitigues and cares.\\nAnd drowsiness alone dominion bears.\\nSweet then the ploughman s slumbers, hale and\\nyoung,\\nWhen the last topic dies upon his tongue\\nSweet then the bliss his transient dreams inspire,\\nTill chilblains wake him, or the snapping fire.\\nHe starts, and ever thoughtful of his team.\\nAlong the glittering snow a feeble gleam\\nShoots from his lantern, as he yawning goes\\nTo add fresh comforts to their night s repose\\nDiffusing fragrance as their food he moves,\\nAnd pats the jolly sides of those he loves.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "WINTER. 81\\nThus full replenish d, perfect ease possess d,\\nFrom night till morn alternate food and rest,\\nNo rightful cheer withheld, no sleep debarr d,\\nTheir each day s labour brings its sure reward.\\nYet when from plough or lurnb ring cart set free,\\nThey taste awhile the sweets of liberty.\\nE en sober Dobbin iifts his clumsy heel\\nAnd kicks, disdainful of the dirty wheel;\\nBut soon, his frolic ended, yields again\\nTo trudge the road, and wear the clinking chain.\\niShort-sighted Dobbin thou canst only see\\nThe trivial hardships that encompass thee\\nThy chains were freedom, and thy toils repose.\\nCould the poor post-horse tell thee all his woes,\\n8how thee his bleeding shoulders, and unfold\\nThe dreadful anguish he endures for gold\\nHired at each call of business, lust, or rage,\\ni hat prompts the traveller on from stage to stage,\\ni^till 0n his strength depends their boasted speed\\nFor them his limbs grow weak, or bare ribs bleed\\nAnd though he groaning quickens at command.\\nTheir extra shilling in the rider s hand\\nBecomes his bitter scourge tis he must feel\\ni he double efforts of the lash and steel;\\nTill when, up-hill, the destined inn he gains,\\nAnd trembling under complicated pains,\\nProne from his nostrils, darting on the ground,\\nHis breath emitted, floats in clouds around\\n6", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "82 THE faPwMek s boy.\\nDrops chase each other down his chest and sides,\\nAnd spattered mud his native colour hides:\\nThrough his svvohi veins the boiling torrent flows,\\nAnd every nerve a separate torture knows.\\nHis harness loosed, he welcomes eager-eyed\\nThe paiTs full draught that quivers by his side;\\nAnd joys to see the well-known stable door,\\nAs the starved mariner the friendly shore.\\nAh, well for him if here his sufferings ceased,\\nAnd ample hours of rest his pains appeased\\nBut roused again, and sternly bade to rise.\\nAnd sliake refreshing slumber from his eyes,\\nEre his exhausted spirits can return.\\nOr through his frame reviving ardour burn.\\nCome forth he must, though limping, maim d, and\\nsore;\\nHe hears the whip the chaise is At the door\\nThe collar tightens, and again he feels\\nHis half-heal d wounds inflamed again the wheels\\nWith tiresome sameness in his ears resound,\\nO er blinding dust, or miles of flinty ground.\\nThus nightly robb d, and injured day by day.\\nHis piecemeal murderers wear his life away.\\nWhat say st thou, Dobbin? what though hounds\\nawait\\nWith open jaws the moment of thy fate,\\nNo better fate attends his public race\\nHis life is misery, and his end disgrace", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "83\\nThen freely bear tliy burden to the mill\\nObey but one short law, thy driver s wilL\\nAffection to thy mem ry ever true,\\nShall boast of mighty loads that Dobbin drew\\nAnd back to childhood shall the mind with pride\\nRecount thy gentleness in many a ride\\nJ o pond, or field, or village fair, when thou\\nHeld st high thy braided mane and comely brow\\nAnd oft the tale shall rise to homely fame\\nUpon thy gen rous spirit and thy name.\\nThough faithful to a proverb we regard\\nThe midnight Chieftain of the farmer s yard,\\nBoneath whose guardianship all hearts rejoice,\\nWoke by the echo of his hollow voice\\nYet as the hound may falt ring quit the pack,\\nHnuffthe foul scent, and hasten yelping back,\\nAnd e en the docile pointer know disgrace,\\nThwarting the gen ral instinct of his race\\nE en so the mastiff, or the meaner cur,\\nAt times will from the path of duty err,\\n(A pattern of fidelity by day\\nI3y night a murderer, lurking for his prey\\nAnd round the pastures or the fold will creep,\\nAnd, coward-like, attack the peaceful sheep.\\nAlone the wanton mischief he pursues.\\nAlone in reeking blood his jaws imbrues;\\nhasing amain his frighten d victims round,\\nJ ill death in wild confusion strews the ground", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "84 THE FAKMER S DOY.\\nThen wearied out, to kennel sneaks away.\\nAnd licks his guilty paws till break of day.\\nThe deed disco ver d, and the news once spread.\\nVengeance hangs o er the unknown culprit s head\\nAnd careful shepherds extra hours bestow\\nIn patient watchings for the common foe;\\nA foe most dreaded now, when rest and peace\\nShotjld wait the season of the flock s increase.\\nIn part these nightly terrors to dispel,\\nJilcs, ere he sleeps, his little flockrmust tell.\\nFrom the fire-side with many a shrug he hies,\\nGlad if the full-orb d moon salute his eyes,\\nAnd through th unbroken stillness of the night\\nShed on his path her beams of cheering light.\\nWith saunt ring step he climbs the distant stile,\\nWhilst all around him wears a placid smile\\nThere views the white-robed clouds in clusters\\ndriven,\\nAnd all the glorious pageantry of Heaven.\\nLow, on the utmost bound ry of the sight.\\nThe rising vapours catch the silver light\\nThence Fancy measures, as they parting fly,\\nWhich first will throw its shadow on the eye.\\nPassing the source of light and thence away,\\nSucceeded quick by brighter still than they.\\nFar yet above these wafted clouds are seen\\n(In a remoter sky, still more serene,)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "WINTER 85\\nOthers detach d in ranges through the air,\\nSpotless as snow, and countless as they re fair,\\niScatter d immensely wide from east to west,\\nThe beauteous semblance of a flock at rest.\\nThese, to the raptured mind,- aloud proclaim\\nTheir Mighty Shepherd s everlasting name.\\nWhilst thus the loit rer s utmost stretch of soul\\nClimbs the still clouds, or passes those that roll.\\nAnd loosed Imagination soaring goes\\nHigh o er his home, and all his Uttle woes,\\nTime glides away neglected duty calls\\nAt once from plains of light to earth he falls.\\nAnd down a narrow lane, well known by day.\\nWith all his speed pursues his sounding way,\\nIn thought still half absorb d, and chill d with\\ncold\\nWhen lo an object frightful to behold\\nA grisly spectre, cloth d in silver gray,\\nAround whose feet the waving shadows play.\\nStands in his path He stops, and not a breath\\nHeaves from his heart, that sinks almost to death.\\nLoud the Owl halloos o er his head unseen\\nAll else is silent, dismally serene\\nSome prompt ejaculation, whisper d low.\\nYet bears him up against the threat ning foe\\nAnd thus poor Giles, though half inclined to fly,\\nMutters his doubts, and strains his steadfast eye.\\nTis not my crimes thou com st here to reprove\\nNo murders stain my soul, no perjur d love", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "S6 THE farmer s coy.\\nIf thou it indeed what here thou seeni st to be,\\nThy dreadful mission cannot reach to me.\\nBy parents taught still to mistrust mine eyes,\\nSiiU to approach each object of surprise,\\nLest Fancy s formful visions should deceive\\nIn moonlight paths, or glooms of falling eve,\\nThis then s the moment when my heart should try\\nTo scan thy motionless deformity\\nBut oh, the fearful task yet well I know\\nAn aged ash, with many a spreading bough,\\n(Beneath whose leaves I ve found a Summer s\\nbow r,\\nBeneath whose trunk I ve wesfther d many a\\nshow r,)\\nStands singly down this solitary way.\\nBut far beyond where now my footsteps stay.\\nTis true, thus far I ve come with heedless haste;\\nNo reck ning kept, no passing objects trac d\\nAnd can I then have reach d that very tree\\nOr is its reverend form assumed by theel\\nThe happy thought alleviates his pain\\nHe creeps another step then stops again\\nTill slowly as his noiseless feet draw near.\\nIts perfect lineaments at once appear\\nIts crown of shiv ring ivy whispering peace,\\nAnd its white bark that fronts the moon s pale\\nface.\\nNow, whilst his blood mounts upwards, now he\\nknows\\nThe solid gain that from conviction flows", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "WIXTER. 87\\nAnd strenglhen d confidence shall hence fulfil\\n(With conscious innocence more valued still)\\nThe dreariest task that Winter nights can brinsj,\\nBy church-yard dark, or grove, or fairy ring\\nStill buoying up the timid mind of youth,\\nJ ill loit ring reason hoists the scale of truth.\\nWith these blest guardians Giles his course pursues,\\nTill numbering his heavy-sided ewes,\\nSurrounding stillness tranquiUize his breast,\\nAnd shape the dreams that wait his hours of rest.\\nAs when retreating tempests we behold.\\nWhose skirts at length the azure sky unfold,\\nAnd full of murmurings and midnight wrath,\\nSlowly unshroud the smiling face of earth,\\nBringing the bosom joy so Winter flies\\nAnd see the source of life and light uprise\\nA height ning arch o er southern hills he bends:\\nWarm on the cheek the slanting beam descends.\\nAnd gives the reeking mead a brighter hue,\\nAnd draws the modest Primrose-bud to view.\\nYet frosts succeed, and winds impetuous rush.\\nAnd hail-storms rattle through the budding bush\\nAnd night-faU n lambs require the shepherd s\\ncare.\\nAnd teeming ewes, that still their burdens bear;\\nBeneath whose sides to-morrow s dawn may see\\nThe milk-white strangers bow the trembling knee\\nAt whose first birth the pow rful instinct s seen\\nThat fills with champions the daisied green", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "88 THE rAR.lIER s BOY.\\nFor ewes that stood aloof with cheerful .eye,\\nWith stamping foot now men and dogs defy,\\nAnd obstinately faithful to their young,\\nruard their first steps to join the bleating throng.\\nBut casualties and death from damps and cold\\nWill still attend the well-conducted fold\\nHer tender offspring dead, the dam aloud\\nalls, and runs wild amidst the unconscious\\ncrowd\\nAnd orphan d sucklings raise the piteous cry\\nNo wool to warm them, no defenders nigh.\\nAnd must her streaming milk then flow in vain 7\\nMust unregarded innocence compfain\\nNo ere this strong solicitude subside,\\nMaternal fondness may be fresh applied,\\nAnd the adopted stripling still may find\\nA parent most assiduously kind.\\nFor this he s doom d awhile disguised to range.\\n(For fraud or force must work the wish d-for\\nchange,)\\nFor this his predecessor s skin he wears.\\nTill, cheated into tenderness and cares.\\nThe unsuspecting dam, contented grown.\\nCherish and guard the foundling as her own.\\nThus all by turns to fair perfection rise\\nThus twins are parted to increase their size\\nThus instinct yields as interest points the way,\\nTill the bright flock, augmenting every day,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "WINTER. 89\\nOn sunny hills and vales of springing flowers,\\nWith ceaseless clamour greet the vernal hours.\\nThe humbler shepherd here with joy beholds\\ni h approv d economy of crowded folds,\\nAnd, in his small contracted round of cares,\\nAdjusts the practice of each hint he hears:\\nFor boys with emulation learn to glow,\\nAnd boast their pastures, and their healthful show\\nOf well-grown lambs, the glory of the Spring\\nAnd field to field in competition bring.\\nK en Giles, for all his cares and watchings past,\\nAnd all his contests with the wintry blast,\\nClaims a full share of that sweet praise bestow d\\nBy gazing neighbours, when along the road.\\nOr village green, his curly-coated throng\\nSuspends the chorus of the spinner s song\\nWhen Admiration s unafiected grace\\nLisps from the tongue, and beams in every face\\nDelightful moments! Sunshine, Health, and\\nJoy,\\nPlay round and cheer the elevated boy\\nAnother Spring! his heart exulting cries;\\nAnother Year with promised blessings rise\\nPaternal Power from whom these blessings flow.\\nTeach me still more to wonder, more to know\\nSeed time and harvest let me see again\\nWander the leaf-strewn wood, the frozen plain", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "90 THE farmer s boy.\\nLet the first flower, corn-waving field, plain, tree,\\nHere round my home, still lift my soul to Thee\\nAnd let me ever, midst thy bounties, raise\\nAn humble note of thankfulness and praise!\\nApril 23, 1798.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "RURAL TALES,\\nBALLADS, AND SONGS.\\n(91)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nThe Poems here offered to the public were written\\nduring the interval between the concluding and the\\npublishing of The Farmer s Boy, an interval of\\nnearly two years. The pieces of a later date are,\\nThe Widow to her Hour Glass, The Fakenhaiit\\nGhost, Walter and Jane, c. At the time of pub-\\nlishing The Farmer s Boy, circumstances occurred\\nwhich rendered it necessary to submit these poems to\\nthe perusal of my friends under whose approbation\\n1 now give them, with some confidence as to their mo-\\nral merit, to the judgment of the public. And as they\\ntreat of villajre matters and rural scenes, it appears to\\nme not ill-timed to avow, that I have hopes of meeting\\nin some degree the approbation of my country. I was\\nnot prepared for the decided, and, I may surely say,\\nextraordinary attention which the public has shown\\ntowards The Farmer s Boy the consequence has been\\nsuch as my true friends will rejoice to hear it has\\nproduced me many essential blessings. And I feel pe-\\nculiarly gratified in finding that a poor man in England\\nmay assert the dignity of Virtue, and speak of the im-\\nperishable beauties of Nature, and be heard, and heard\\nperhaps, with greater attention for his being poor.\\n(93)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "94 PREFACE-\\nWhoever thinks of me or my concerns, must neceg-\\npavily indulge the pleasing idea of gratitude, and join\\na thought of my first great friend, Mr. Lof[t. And on\\nthis head, I believe every reader, who has himself any\\nfeeling, will judge rightly of mine if otherwise, I\\nwould much rather he would lay down this volume,\\nand grasp hold of such fleeting pleasures as the world s\\nIflfciness may afford him. I speak not of that gentle-\\nman as a public character, or as a scholar. Of the\\nformer I know but little, and of the latter nothing.\\nBut I know from experience, and I glory in this fair\\nopportunityof saying it, that his private life is a lesson\\nof morality; his manners gentle, his^heart sincere:\\nand I regard it as one of the most fortunate circum-\\nstances of my life, that my introduction to public no-\\ntice fell to so zealous and unwearied a friend.*\\nI have received miny honourable testimoi.ies of es-\\nteem from strangers letters without a name, but filled\\nwith the most cordial advice, and almost a parental\\nan.\\\\iety, for my safety under so great a share of public\\napplause. I beg to refer such friends to the great\\nteacher. Time and hope that he will hereafter give\\nme my deserts, and no more.\\nOne piece in this collection will inform the reader\\nof my most pleasing visit to Wajcefield Lodge books,\\nT dare not take to myself a praise like this and\\nyet I was, perhaps, hardly at liberty to disclaim what\\nBhould be mine and the endeavour of every one to de-\\nserve. This I can say, that I have reason to rejoice\\nthat Mr. Gc irge Bloonificld introduced The Farmer s\\nIJov to me. C. L.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "PRErACE. 95\\ngolit ude, and objects entirely new, brotight pleasures\\nwhich memory will always cherish. That noble and\\nworthy family, and all my immediate and unknown\\nfriends, will, I hope, believe the sincerity of my thanks\\nfor all their numerous favours, and candidly judge of\\nthe poems before them.\\nR. BLOOMFIELB^\\nSept. 29. ISIO", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "Since affixing the above date, an event of much greater\\nimportance than any to which I ha^e been witness,\\nhas taken place, to the universal joy (it is to be\\nhoped) of every inhabitant of Europe. My portion\\nof joy shall be expressed while it is warm. And the\\nreader will do sufficient justice, if he only believes\\nit to be sincere. Oct. 10.\\n(96^", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "9r\\nPEACE.\\nHalt ye legions, sheathe your steel\\nBlood grows precious shed no more\\nCease your toils your wounds to Iieal\\nLo beams of Mercy reach the shore\\nFrom realms of everlasting light\\nThe favour d guest of Heaven is come\\nProstrate your banners at the sight,\\nAnd bear the glorious tidings home.\\nThe plunging corpse, with half-closed eyes,\\nNo more shall stain th unconscious brine\\nYon pendant gay, that streaming flies,\\nIdly around its start shall twine.\\nBehold along th ethereal sky,\\nHer beams o er conquering navies spread,\\nPeace Peace the leaping sailors cry.\\nWith shouts that might arouse the dead.\\nThen forth Britannia s thunder pours,\\nA vast reiterated sound\\nFrom line to line the cannon roars,\\nAnd spreads the blazing joy around.\\n7", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "KUKAL TALES, ETC. 98\\nReturn, ye brave your country calls\\nReturn, return, your task is done\\nWhile here the tear of transport falls,\\nTo grace your laurels nobly won.\\nAlbion Clifis from age to age,\\nThat bear the roaring storms of heav n,\\nDid ever fiercer warfare rage.\\nWas ever Peace more timely given\\nWake! sounds of joy; rouse, generous Isle\\nLet every patriot bosom glow\\nBeauty, resume thy wonted smile.\\nAnd, Poverty, thy cheerful brow.\\nBoast, Britain, of thy glorious guests\\nPeace, Wealth, and Commerce, all thine own\\nStill on contented Labour rests\\nThe basis of a lasting throne.\\nShout, poverty tis Heaven that saves\\nProtected Wealth, the chorus raise,\\nRuler of War, of Winds, and Waves,\\nAccept a prostrate nation s praise.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "99\\nRICHARD AND KATE.\\nOR, FAIR-DAY.\\nA SUFFOLK BALLAD.\\nI.\\nCome, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel.\\nSweep up your orts, and get your hat;\\nOld joys reviv d once more I feel,\\nTis Fair-day ay, and more than that\\nHave you forgot, Kate, prithee say,\\nHow many seasons here we ve tarried T\\nTis forty years, this very day.\\nSince you and I, old Girl, were married\\nLook out the sun shines warm and hright,\\nThe stiles are low, the paths all dry\\nI know you cut your corns last night:\\nCome be as free from care as I.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "100 KURAL TALES, ETC.\\nIT.\\nFor I m resolved once more to see\\nThat place where we so often met;\\nThough few have had more cares than we,\\nWe ve none just now to make us fret.\\nKate scom d to damp the generous flame\\nThat warm d her aged partner s breast\\nYet, ere determination came,\\nShe thus some trifling doubts express d:\\nTI.\\nNight will come on when seated snug,\\nAnd you ve perhaps begun some tale,\\nCan you then leave your dear stone mug 1\\nLeave all the folks, and all the alel\\nAy, Kate, I wool because I know.\\nThough time has been we both could run,\\nSuch days are gone and over now\\n1 only mean to see the fun.\\nShe straight slipp d oflT the wall and band,\\nAnd laid aside her lucks and twitches;\\nAnd to the hutch she reach d her hand,\\nAnd gave him out his Sunday breeches.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "RICHAKD AND KATE. 101\\nIX.\\nHis mattock he behind the door,\\nAnd hedging-glovcs again replaced\\nAnd look d across the yellow moor,\\nAnd urged his tott ring spouse to haste.\\nThe day was up, the air serene,\\nThe firmament without a cloud\\nThe bee humm d o er the level green.\\nWhere knots of trembling cowslips bow d.\\nAnd Richard thus, with heart elate,\\nAs past things rush d across his mind,\\nOver his shoulder talked to Kate,\\nWho, snug tuck d up, walk d slow behind.\\nWhen once a giggling mawther you,\\nAnd I a red-faced chubby boy,\\nSly tricks you play d me not a few\\nFor mischief was your greatest joy,\\nOnce passing near this very tree,\\nA gotch of milk I d been to fill,\\nYou shoulder d me, then laugh d to see\\nMe and my gotch spin down the hill.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "102 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nXIV.\\nTis true, she said but here hehold.\\nAnd marvel at the course of time\\nThough you and I are both grown old,\\nThis tree is only in its prime\\nWell, Goody, don t stand preaching now\\nFolks don t preach sermons at a fair\\nWe ve rear d ten boys and girls, you know\\nAnd I ll be bound they ll all be there.\\nNow friendly nods and smiles had they,\\nFrom many a kind fair-going face\\nAnd many a pinch Kate gave away\\nWhile Richard kept his usual pace.\\nAt length arrived amidst the throng,\\nGrand-children bawhng hemm d them round\\nAnd dragg d them by the skirts along\\nWhere gingerbread bestrew d the ground.\\nAnd soon the aged couple spied\\nTheir lusty sons and daughters dear\\nWhen Richard thus exulting cried,\\nDidn t I tell you they d be here", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "KICUAKD AND EATE. 103\\nThe cordial greetings of the soul\\nWere visible in every face\\nAflection, void of all control,\\nGoveru d with a resistless grace.\\nTvvas good to see the honest strife,\\nWhich should contribute most to please\\nAnd hear the long-recounted life.\\nOf infant tricks, and happy days.\\nBut now, as at some nobler places,\\nAmongst the leaders twas decreed\\nTime to begin the Dicky Races,\\nMore famed for laughter than for speed.\\nRichard look d on with wond rous glee.\\nAnd praised the lad who chanced to win\\nKate, wasn t I such a one as he 1\\nAs like him, ay, as pin to pin.\\nFull fifty years are pass d away\\ntSince I rode this sauie ground about\\nLor I was lively as the day\\nI won the High-lows out and out.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "104 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nFm surely growing young again\\nI feel myself so kedge and plump,\\nFrom head to foot I ve not one pain\\nNay, hang me if I couldn t jump.\\nThus spoke the ale in Richard s pate\\nA very little made him mellow\\nBut still he loved his faithful Kate,\\nWho whisper d thus, JVIy good old fellow,\\nRemember what you promised me,\\nAnd see the sun is getting low\\nThe children want an hour, ye see,\\nTo talk a bit before we go.\\nLike youthful lover most complying\\nHe turn d, and chuck d her by the chin\\nThen all across the green grass hieing,\\nRight merry faces, all akin.\\nTheir farewell quart, beneath a tree\\nThat droop d its branches from above,\\nAwaked the pure felicity\\nThat waits upon parental love.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "RICHARD AND KATE. 105\\nKate view d Jier blooming daughters round,\\nAnd sons, who shook her wither d hand\\nHer features spoke what joy she found\\nBut utterance had made a stand.\\nThe children toppled on the green,\\nAnd bowl d their fairings down the hill\\nRichard with pride beheld the scene,\\nNor could he for his life sit still.\\nXXXI.\\nA father s uncheck d feelings gave\\nA tenderness to all he said\\nMy boys, how proud am I to have\\nMy name thus round the country spread\\nThrough all my days I ve labour d hard.\\nAnd could of pains and crosses tell\\nBut this is labour s great reward,\\nTo meet ye thus and see ye well.\\nMy good old partner, when at home.\\nSometimes with wishes mingles tears\\nGoody, says I, let what wool come.\\nWe ve nothing for them but our pray rs.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "106 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nMay you be all as old as I,\\nAnd see your sons to manhood grow;\\nAnd many a time, before you die,\\nBe just as pleas d as I am now.\\nThen, (raising still his mug and voice,)\\nAn old man s weakness don t despise\\nI love you well, ray girls and boys\\nGod bless you all so^ said his eyes\\nXXXVI.\\nFor as he spoke, a big round drop\\nFell, bounding on his ample sleeve\\nA witness which he could not stop,\\nA witness which all hearts believe.\\nThou, filial piety, wort there\\nAnd round the ring, benignly bright,\\nDwelt in the luscious half-shed tear.\\nAnd in the parting word Good night.\\nWith thankful hearts and strengthen d love,\\nThe poor old pair, supremely blest,\\nSaw the sun sink behind the grove,\\nAnd gain d once more their lowly rest.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "107\\nWALTER AND JANE;\\nOR, THE POOR BLACKSMITH.\\nA COUNTRY TALE.\\nBright was the summer sky, the mornings gay,\\nAnd Jane was young and cheerful as the day\\nNot yet to Love but Mirth she paid her vows,\\nAnd echo mock d her as she call d her cows.\\nTufts of green broom, that full in blossom vied,\\nAnd graced with spotted gold the upland side.\\nThe level fogs o erlook d too high to share\\nSo lovely Jane o erlook d the clouds of care.\\nNo raeadow-flow r rose fresher to the view,\\nThat met her morning footsteps in the dew.\\nWhere, if a nodding stranger eyed her charms.\\nThe blush of innocence was up in arms,\\nLove s random glances struck th unguarded mind,\\nAnd Beauty s magic made him look behind.\\nDuly as morning blush d or twilight came,\\nSecure of greeting smiles and village fame,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "108 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nI\\nyhe pass J the straw-roof d shed, in ranges where\\nHung many a wcll-turn d shoe and glitt ring share\\nWhere Walter, as the charmer tripp d along,\\nWould stop his roaring bellows and his song.\\nDawn of affection Love s delicious sigh\\n(Jaught from the lightnings of a speaking eye,\\nThat lead st the heart to rapture or to woe,\\nTwas Walter s fate thy raadd ning power to know\\nAnd scarce to know, ere in its infant twine,\\nAs the blast shakes the tendrils of the vine,\\nThe budding bliss that full of promise grew\\nThe chilling blight of separation knew.\\n^Scarce had he told his heart s unquiet case,\\nAnd Jane to shun him ceased to mend her pace,\\nAnd learnt to listen trembling as he spoke.\\nAnd fondly judge his words beyond a joke\\nWhen, at the goal that bounds our prospects here,\\nJane s widow d mistress ended her career.\\nBlessings attended her divided store,\\nThe mansion sold, (Jane s peaceful home no more,)\\nA distant village own d her for its Queen,\\nAnother service, and another scene.\\nBut could another scene so pleasing prove,\\nTwelve weary miles from Walter and from Love 1\\nThe maid grew thoughtful yet to fate resign d,\\nKnev/ not the worth of what she left behind.\\nHe, when at eve released from toil and heat,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00baSoon miss d the smiles that taught his heart to beat.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "WALTER AND JANE. 109\\nEach Sabbath-day of late was wont to prove\\nHope s liberal feast, the holiday of love;\\nBut now, upon his spirit s ebbing strength\\nCame each dull hour s intolerable length.\\nThe next had scarcely dawn d when Walter hied\\nO er hill and dale, afiection for his guide\\nO er the brown heath his pathless journey lay.\\nWhere screaming lapwings hail d the op ning day.\\nHigh rose the sun the anxious lover sigh d\\nHis slipp ry soles bespoke the dew was dried\\nHer last farewell hung fondly on his tongue.\\nAs o er the tufted furze elate he sprung\\nTrifling impediments his heart was light,\\nFor Love and Beauty glow d in fancy s sight\\nAnd soon he gazed on Jane s enchanting face,\\nRenew d his passion, but destroy d his peace.\\nTruth, at whose shrine he bow d, inflicted pain\\n,And conscience whisper d, Never come again.\\nFor now, his tide of gladness to oppose,\\nA clay-cold damp of doubts and fears arose\\nClouds, which involve, midst love and reason s\\nstrife,\\nThe poor man s prospect when he takes a wife.\\nThough gay his journeys in the summer s prime,\\nEach seem d the repetition of a crime\\nHe never left her but with many a sigh,\\nWhen tears stole down his face, she knew not why.\\nSevere his task those visits to forego.\\nAnd feed his heart with voluntary woe,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "no RL RAI, TAF.ES, KTC.\\n\\\\ci this he did the wan moon circling found\\nHis evenings cheerless, and his rest unsound;\\nAnd saw Ih unquenched flame his bosom swell:\\nhat were his doubts, thus let the story tell.\\nA month s sharp conflict only served to prove\\nI ho pow r, as well as truth, of ^Valter s love.\\nAbsence more strongly on his mind pourtray d\\nHis own sweet, injured, unoffending maid.\\nOnce more he d go: full resolute awhile.\\nBut heard his native bells orj every stile.\\nThe sound rccall d him with a pow rful charm.\\nThe heath wide open d, and the day was warm\\nThere, where a bed of tempting green he found.\\nIncreasing anguish weigh d him to the ground\\nHis well-grown limbs the scatter d daisies press d,\\nWhile his clench d hand fell heavy on his breast.\\nWhy do I go in cruel sport to say,\\nI jovc thee, Jane, appoint the happy day\\nWhy seek her sweet ingenuous reply.\\nThen grasp her hand and proller poverty\\nWhy, if I love her and adore her name,\\nXVhy act like time and sickness on her frame?\\nWhy should my scanty pittance nip her prime,\\nAnd chase away the rose before its time?\\nI m young, tis true; the world beholds me free;\\nLabour ne er show d a frightful face to me;\\nNature s first wants hard labour should supply\\nl!ut should it fail, twill be too late to flv,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "WALTER AND JAXE. Ill\\nSome summers hence, if nought our loves annoy,\\nThe image of my Jane may Hsp her joy\\nOr blooming boys with imitative swing\\nMay mock my arm, and make the anvil ring;\\nThen if in rags but, O my heart, forbear,\\nI love the girl, and why should I despair\\nAnd that I love her all the village knows;\\nOft from my pain the mirth of others flows\\nAs when a neighbour s steed with glancing eye\\nSaw his par d hoof supported on my thigh\\nJane pass d that instant mischief came of course;\\nI drove the nail awry, and lamed the horse\\nThe poor beast limp d I bore a master s frovvm,\\nA thousand times I wish d the wound my own.\\nWhen to these tangling thoughts I ve been resign d,\\nFury or languor has possess d ray mind,\\nAll eyes have stared, I ve blown a blast so strong;\\nForgot to smite at all, or smote too long.\\nIT at the ale-house door, with careless glee,\\nOne drinks to Jane, and darts a look on me,\\nI feel that blu?h v?hich her dear name will bring;\\nI feel but, guilty love, tis not thy sting\\nYet what are jeers? the bubbles of an hour!\\nJane knows what love can do, and feels it pow r\\nIn her mild eye fliir truth her moaning tells;\\nTis not in looks like her s that falsehood dwells.\\nAs water shed upon a dusty way,\\nI ve seen midst downward pebbles devious stray\\nIf kindred drops an adverse channel keep,\\nThe crystal friends toward each other creep;", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "112 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nNear, and still nearer, rolls each little tide,\\nTh expanding mirror swells on either side\\nThey touch tis done receding bound ries fly,\\nAn instantaneous union strikes the eye\\nSo tis with us for Jane would be my bride\\nShall coward fears then turn the bliss aside I\\nWhile thus he spoke he heard a gentle sound,\\nI hat scem d a jarring footstep on the ground\\nAshamed of grief, he bade his eyes unclose,\\nAnd shook with agitation as he rose\\nAll unprepared the sweet sorprise to bear,\\nIlis heart beat high, for Jane herself was there.\\nFlush d was her cheek she seem d the full-blown\\nflower.\\nFor warmth gave loveliness a double pow r.\\nRound her fair brow the deep confusion ran,\\nA waving handkerchief became her fan\\nHer lips, where dwelt sweet love and smiling\\nease,\\nPulT d gently back the warm assailing breeze.\\nI ve travell d all these weary miles with pain,\\nTo see my native village once again\\nAnd show my true regard for neighbour Hind\\nNot like you, Walter, she was always kind.\\nTwas thus, each soft sensation laid aside,\\nShe buoy d her spirits up with maiden pride,\\nDisclaim d her lo^i;, e en while she felt the sting.\\nWhat, come for Walter s sake Twas no such\\nthing.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "WALTi::; a.vd jane. 113\\nBut when astonishment his tongue released,\\nPride s usurpation in an instant ceased\\nBy force he cauglit her hand as passing by,\\nAnd gazed upon her halt-averted eye;\\nHis heart s distraction and his boding fears\\n.slie heard, and answer d with a tlood of tears\\nPrecious relief; sure friends that forward press\\nTo tell the mind s unspeakable distress.\\nYe youths, whom crimson d health and genuine\\nlire\\nBear joyous on the wing of young desire,\\nYe, who still bow to love s almighty sway,\\nWhat could true passion, what could Walter say 1\\nAge, tell rne true, nor shake your locks in vain,\\nTread back your paths, and be in love again\\nIn your young days did such a favouring hour\\nShow you the littleness of wealth and pow r,\\nAdvent rous climbers of the mountain s brow\\nWhile Love, their master, spreads his couch below.\\nMy dearest Jane, the untaught Walter cried,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2As, half repell d, he pleaded by her side,\\nMy dearest Jane, think of me as you may\\nThus still unutter d what he strove to say,\\nThey breath d in sighs the an^ish of their minds,\\nAnd took the path that Jed to neighbour Hind s.\\nA secret joy the well-known roof inspired.\\nSmall was its store, and little thl^ desired.\\nJune dried her tears while Walter forward flew,\\nTo aid the dame who to the brink updrew\\n1 8", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "114 r.VKAL TALES, ETC.\\nThe pond rous bucket as they reach d the well,\\nAnd scarcely with exhausted breath could tell\\nHow welcome to her cot the blooming pair.\\nO er whom she watch d with a maternal care.\\nWhat ails thee, Jane T the wary matron cried.\\nWith heaving breast the modest maid reply d,\\nJN ow gently moving back her wooden chair\\nTo shun the current of the cooling air\\nNot much, good dame I m weary by the v^y\\nPerhaps, anon, I ve something else to say.\\nNow, while the seed-cake crumbled on her knee.\\nAnd snowy jessamine peep d in to see;\\nAnd the transparent lilac at the door.\\nFull to the sun its purple honours bore.\\nThe clam rous hen her fearless brood display d.\\nAnd march d around while thus the matron\\nsaid\\nJane has been weeping, Walter prithee why\\nI ve seen her laugh, and dance, but never cry.\\nBut I can guess; with her you should have been,\\nWhen late I saw you loit ring on the green.\\nI m an old woman, and the truth may tell\\nI say then, boy, you have not used her well.\\nJane felt for Walter^ felt his cruel pain,\\nAnd pity urged her e en to tears again.\\nDon t scold him, neighbour, he has much to say\\nIndeed, he came and met me by the way.\\nThe dame resuAd Why then, my children,\\nwhy\\nDo such young bosoms heave the piteous sigh 1", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "WALTER AND JANE. 115\\nThe ills of life to you are yet unknown\\nDeath s shiv ring shaft, and poverty s cold frown.\\nI ve felt them both by turns; but, as they pass d,\\nStrong was my trust, and here I am at last.\\nVVl)en I dwelt, young and cheerful, down the\\nlane,\\n(And though I say it, I was much like Jane,)\\nO er liow ry fields with Hind I loved to stray,\\nAnd talk, and laugh, and fool the time away\\nAnd care defied, who not one pain could give.\\nTill the thought came of how we were to live\\nAnd then love plied his arrows thicker still,\\nAnd proved victorious, as he always will.\\nWe braved life s storm together while that drone.\\nYour poor old uncle, Walter, lived alone.\\nHe died the other day when round his bed\\nNo tender soothing tear affection shed\\nAffection twas a plant he never knew\\nWhy should he feast on fruits he never grew\\nWalter caught fire; nor was he charm d alone\\nWith conscious truth s firm elevated tone\\nJane from her seat sprang forward, half afraid,\\nAttesting with a blush what Goody said.\\nHer lover took a more decided part\\n(Oh! twas the very chord that touch d his\\nheart,)\\nAlive to the best feelings man can prize,\\nA bridegroom s transport sparkled in his eyes\\nLove, conquering power, with unrestricted range,\\nSilenced the arguments of time and change", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "116 KUKAL TALES, ETC.\\nAnd led his vot ry on, and bade him view,\\nAnd prize the light-wing d moments as they flew\\nAll doubts gave way, all retrospective lore.\\nWhence cooler reason tortured him before\\nComparison of times, the lab rer s hire,\\nAnd many a truth reflection might inspire,\\nSunk powerless. Dame, I am a fool, he cried\\nAlone I might have reason d till I died.\\nI caused those tears of Jane s but as they fell.\\nHow much I felt none but ourselves can tell.\\nWhile dastard fears withheld me from her sight,\\nSighs reign d by day and hi^^lcous dreams by night\\nTvvas then the soldier s pluine and rolling drum\\nSeem d for awhile to strike my sorrows dumb\\nTo fly from care then half resolved I stood,\\nAnd without horror mused on fields of blood\\nBut hope prevml d. Be then the sword resign d.\\nAnd I ll make shares for those that stay behind\\nAnd you, sweet girl, He would have added more\\nHad not a glancing shadow at the door\\nAnnounced a guest, who bore with winning grace\\nHis well-timed errand pictured in his face.\\nAround with silent reverence they stood\\nA blameless reverence the man was good.\\nWealth he had some, a match for his desires,\\nFirst on the list of active country squires.\\nSeeing the youthful pair with downcast eyes,\\nUnmoved by summer flowers and cloudless skies,\\nPass slowly by his gate, his book resign d,\\nHe watch d their steps, and follow d far jjehind,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0096\u00a0WALTER A D JAXE. 17\\nBearing with inward joy, and honest pride,\\nA trust of Walter s kinsman ere he died,\\nA hard-earn d mite, deposited with care.\\nAnd with a miser s spirit worshipp d there.\\nHe found what oft the gen rous bosom seeks,\\nIn the Dame s court sies and Jane s blushing\\ncheeks,\\nThat consciousness of worth, that freeborn grace,\\nWhich waits on virtue in the meanest place.\\nYoung man, I ll not apologize to you,\\nXor name intrusion, for my news is true\\nTis duty brings me here your wants I ve heard,\\nAnd can relieve: yet be the dead revered.\\nHere, in this purse, (what should have cheer d a\\nwife,)\\nLies half the savings of your uncle s life!\\nI know your history, and your wishes know\\nAnd love to see the seeds of virtue grow.\\nI ve a spare shed that fronts the public road.\\nMake that your shop, I ll make it your abode.\\nThus much from me, the rest is but your due.\\nThat instant twenty pieces sprung to view.\\nGoody, her dim eyes weeping, raised her brow,\\nAnd saw the young pair look they knew not how;\\nPerils and power while humble minds forego.\\nWho gives them half a kingdom gives 4hem woe;\\nComforts may be procured and want defied,\\nHeav ns with how small a sum, when right ap-\\nplied", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "118 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nGive love and honest industry their way,\\nClear but the sun-rise of life s little day,\\nThose we term poor shall oft that wealth obtain,\\nFor which th ambitious sigh, but sigh in vain\\nWealth that still brightens as its stores increase\\nThe calm of conscience, and the reign of peace.\\nWalter s enamour d soul, from news like this,\\nNow felt the dawnings of his future bliss\\nE en as the red-breast, shelt ring in a bower.\\nMourns the short darkness of a passing shower.\\nThen, while the azure sky extends around,\\nDarts on a worm that breaks the moisten d ground.\\nAnd mounts the dripping fence, with joy elate.\\nAnd shares the prize triumphant with his mate.\\nSo did the youth; the treasure straight became\\nAn humble servant to love s sacred flame\\nGlorious subjection Thus his silence broke\\nJoy gave him words, still quick ning as he spoke.\\nWant was my dread, my wishes were but few\\nOthers might doubt, but Jane those wishes knew.\\nThis gold may rid my heart of pains and sighs\\nBut her true love is still my greatest prize.\\nJjong as I live, when this bright day comes round,\\nBeneath my roof your noble deeds shall sound\\nBut first, to make ray gratitude appear,\\nI ll shoe your honour s horses for a year;\\nIf clouds should threaten when your corn is down,\\nI ll lend a hand, and rammon half the town", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "WALXEU A-\\\\D JA.\\\\E. 119\\nIf good betide, I ll sound it in my songs;\\nAnd be the lirst avenger of your wrongs;\\nThough rude in manners, free I hope to live\\nThis ale s not mine, no ale have I to give\\nYet, sir, though fortune frown d when I was born,\\nLet s drink eternal friendship from this horn.\\nHow much our present joy to thee we owe,\\n.Soon our three bells shall let the neighbours\\nknow;\\nThe sound shall raise e en stooping age awhile.\\nAnd every maid shall meet you with a smile\\nLong may you live The wish like lightning\\nflew,\\nBy each repeated as the squire withdrew\\nLong may you live, his feehng heart r(?join d.\\nLeaving well pleased such happy souls behind.\\nHope promised fair to cheer them to the end.\\nWith love their guide, and Goody for their friend.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "120\\nTHE MILLER S MAID.\\nA TALE.\\nNear the high roaJ, upon a winding stream,\\nAn honest miller rose to weaUh and fame\\nThe noblest virtues checr d his lengthen d days.\\nAnd all the country echo d with his praise\\nHis wife, the doctress of the neighb ring poor,*\\nDrew constant pray rs and blessings round his\\ndoor.\\nOne summer s night, (the hour of rest was\\ncome,)\\nDarkness unusual overspread their home\\nA chilling blast was felt the foremost cloud\\nSprinkled the bubbUng pool and thunder loud,\\nThough distant yet, menaced the country round,\\nAnd fill d the heavens with its solemn sound.\\nThis village and the poor of this neighbourhood\\nknow what it is to have possessed such a blessing, and\\nfeel, at this moment, what it is to lose it by death.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "THE miller s maid. 121\\nWho can retire to rest when tempests lour?\\nJS or wait the issue of the corning hour\\nMeekly resign d she sat, in anxious pain;\\nHe fill d his pipe, and iisten d to the rain\\nJ hat hatter d furiously their strong abode,\\nJtoar d in the dam, and lash d the pebbled road;\\nWhen, mingling with the storm, confused and\\nwild.\\nThey heard, or thought they heard, a screaming\\nchild;\\nJ he voice approach d and midst the thunder s\\nroar.\\nNow loudly begg d for mercy at the door.\\nMercy was there the miller heard the call\\nHis door he open d when a sudden squall\\niJrove in a wretched girl; who weeping stood,\\nM hilst the cold rain dripp d from her in a flood.\\nWith kind officionsness the tender dame\\nlioused up the dying embers to a flame;\\nDry clothes procured, and cheer d her shiv ring\\nguest,\\nAnd sooth d the sorrows of her infant breast.\\nBut as she stripp d her shoulders, lily-white.\\nWhat marks of cruel usage shock d their sight I\\nWeals, and blue wounds, most piteous to behold.\\nUpon a child yet scarcely ten years old.\\nThe miller felt his indignation rise,\\nYet, as the weary stranger closed her eyes,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "122 EUKAL TALES, ETC.\\nAnd seemed fatigu d beyond her strength and years,\\nSleep child, (he said,) and wipe away your\\ntears.\\nThey watch d her slumbers till the storm was done;\\nWhen thus the generous man again begun\\nSee, flutt ring sighs that rise against her will,\\nAnd agitating dreams disturb her still\\nDame, we should know, before we go to rest.\\nWhence comes this girl, and how she came dis-\\ntress d\\nWake her, and ask for she is sorely bruised\\nI long to know by whom she s thus misused\\nChild, what s your name 1 how came you in the\\nstorm\\nHave you no home to keep you dry and warm\\nWho gave you all those wounds your shoulders\\nshow 1\\nWhere are you parents 1 Whither would you go\\nThe stranger, bursting into tears, look d pale.\\nAnd this the purport of her artless tale\\nI have no parents and no friends beside:\\nI well remember when my mother died\\nMy brother cried, and so did I that day\\nWe had no father he was gone away\\nThat night we left our homes new clothes to wear,\\nThe workhouse found them; we were carried\\nthere.\\nWe loved each other dearly when we met,\\nWe always shared what trifles we could get.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "THE AIILLEr. S ilAlD. 123\\nut George was older by a year than me\\nfie parted from me, and was sent to sea.\\nGood-bye, dear Phoebe, the poor fellow said\\nPerhaps he ll come again perhaps he s dead.\\nWhen I grew strong enough, I went to place\\nMy mistress had a sour, ill-natured face\\nAnd though I ve been so often beat and chid,\\nI strove to please her, sir indeed I did.\\nWeary and spiritless to bed I crept,\\nAnd always cried at night before I slept.\\nThis morning I offended, and I bore\\nA cruel beating, worse than all before.\\nUnknown to all the house, I ran away\\nAnd thus far travell d through the sultry day\\nAnd, O don t send me back. I dare not go\\nI send you back the miller cried, no, no.\\nThe appeals of wretchedness had weight with hiui,\\nAnd sympathy would warm him every limb\\nHe mutter d, glorying in the work begun,\\nWell done, my little wench, twas nobly done\\nThen said, with looks more cheering than the lire,\\nAnd feeling such as pity can inspire,\\nMy house has childless been these many a year\\nWhile you deserve it you shall tarry here.\\nThe orphan mark d the ardour of his eye,\\nBless d his kind words, and thank d him with a\\nsigh.\\nThus was the sacred compact doubly seal d\\nThus were her spirits raised, her bruises heal d.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "]-Ji KURAL TALES, ETC.\\nThLxnkful and cheerful too, no more afraid,\\nThus little Phcebe was the Miller s Maid,\\n(irateful they found her; patient of control;\\nA most bewitching gentleness of soul\\nMade pleasure of what work she had to do\\nShe grew in stature and in beauty too.\\nFive years she pass d in this dehghtful home\\nFive happy years but when the sixth was come,\\nThe miller, from a market-town hard by,\\nfcrought home a sturdy youth, his strength to try\\nTo raise the sluice-gates early every morn,\\nTo heave his powder d sacks, and grind his corn\\nAnd meeting Phoebe, whom he loved so dear,\\nI ve brought you home a husband, girl d ye\\nhear]\\nHe begg d for work his money seem d but scant\\nThose that will work, tis pity they should want.\\nSo use him well, and we shall shortly see\\nWhether he merits what I ve done, like thee.\\nNow throbb d her heart, a new sensation\\nquite,\\nWhene er the comely stranger was in sight\\nFor he at once assiduously strove\\nTo please so sweet a maid, and win her love\\nAt every corner stopp d her in her way.\\nAnd saw fresh beauties opening every day.\\nHe took delight in tracing in her face\\nThe mantling blush, and every native grace", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE miller s maid. 125\\nThat sensibility would bring to view,\\nWhen love he mention d; Love and Honour\\ntrue\\nBut Phoebe still was shy, and wish d to know\\nMore of the honest youth, whose manly brow,\\nShe verily believed, was truth s own throne,\\nAnd all his words as artless as her own\\nMost true she judged yet long the youth forbore\\nDivulging how, and where, he lived before\\nAnd seem d to strive his history to hide,\\nTill fair esteem enlisted on his side.\\nThe miller saw, and mention d in his praise,\\nThe prompt fidelity of all his ways\\nTill in a vacant hour, the dinner done,\\nOne day he joking cried, Come here, my son\\nTis pity that so good a lad as you\\nBeneath my roof should bring disorders new\\nBut here s my Phoebe, once so light and airy,\\nShe d trip along the passage like a fairy,\\nHas lost her swiftness quite, since here you\\ncame\\nAnd yet I can t perceive the girl is lame\\nThe obstacles she meets with still fall thicker\\nOld as I am, Pd turn the corner quicker.\\nThe youth blush d deep, and Phoebe hung her\\nhead\\nThe good man smiled, and thus again he said\\nNot that I deem it matter of surprise.\\nThat you should love to gaze at Phoebe s eyes;\\nBut be explicit, boy; and deal with honour,\\nI feel my happiness depend upon her.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "12r) RUl^AL TALES, ETC.\\nWhen here you came you d sorrow on your brow\\nAnd I ve forbore to question you till now.\\nFirst, then, say wliat thou art. He instant\\nbow t],\\nAnd thus, in Phoebe s hearing, spoke aloud.\\nThus far experienced, sir, in you I find\\nAll tliat is generous, fatherly, and kind\\nAnd while you look for proofs of real worth,\\nYou ll not regard the meanness of my birth.\\nWhen, pennyless and sad, you met with me,\\nI d jui^t escaped the dangers of the sea;\\nItesolved to try my fortune on the shore,\\nJ o get my bread, and trust the waves no more\\nHaving no home, nor parents, left behind,\\nI d all my fortune, all my friends, to find.\\nKeen disappointment wounded me that morn:\\nFor, trav lling near the spot where I was born,\\nI at the well-known door where I was bred.\\nInquired who still was living, who was dead:\\nBut first, and most, 1 sought, with anxious fear,\\nTidings to gain of her who once was dear;\\nA girl, with all the meekness of the dove,\\nThe constant sharer of my childhood s love;\\nShe call d me Brother: which I heard with\\npride.\\nThough now suspect we are not so allied.\\nThus much I learn d; (no more the churls would\\nsay\\nShe went to service, and she ran away\\nJ", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "THE MILLER S MAID. 127\\nAnil scandal added Hold the miller cried,\\nAnd, in an instant, stood at Phoebe s side;\\nFor he observed, while list ning to the tale,\\nHer spirits falter d, and her cheeks turn d pale\\nWhilst her clasp d hands descended to her knee,\\nShe sinking whisper d forth, O God, tis he!\\nJ he good man, though he guess d the pleasing\\ntruth,\\nWas far too busy to inform the youth\\nBut stirr d himself amain to aid his wife,\\nWho soon restored the trembler back to life.\\nAwhile insensible she still appear d\\nBut, 0, my brother, was distinctly heard\\nTh astonish d youth now held her to his breast;\\nAnd tears and kisses soon explain d the rest.\\nPast deeds now from each tongue alternate fell\\nFor news of dearest import both could tell.\\nFondly, from childhood s tears to youth s full prime,\\nThey match d the incidents of jogging time;\\nAnd proved that, when with tyranny oppress d\\nPoor Phoebe groan d with wounds and broken rest,\\nGeorge felt no less: was harass d and forlorn;\\nA rope s end follow d him from night till morn.\\nAnd in that very storm when Phoebe fled.\\nWhen the rain drench d her yet unshelter d head\\nThat very storm he on the ocean braved,\\nThe vessel founder d, and the boy was saved\\nMysterious heaven And, O, with what delight\\nShe told the happy issue of her flight", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "123 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nTo his charm d heart a Hving picture drew\\nAnd gave to hospitality its due\\nThe hst ning host observed the gentle pair,\\nAnd ponder d on the means that brought them\\nthere\\nConvinced, while unimpeach d their virtue stood,\\nTwas heaven s high will that he should do them\\ngood.\\nBut now the anxious dame, impatient grown,\\nDemanded what the youth had heard or known^\\nWhereon to ground those doubts but just ex-\\npress d\\nDoubts which must interest the feeling breast\\nHer brother wert thou, George 1 How prithee\\nsay,\\nCan st thou forego, or cast that name away V\\nNo living proofs have I, the youth replied,\\nThat we by closest ties are not allied\\nBut in my memory live, and ever will,\\nA mother s dying words I hear them still\\nShe said, to one who watch d her parting breath,\\nDon t separate the children at my death.\\nThey re not both mine; but here the scene was\\nclosed.\\nShe died and left us helpless and exposed\\nNor time hath thrown, nor reason s opening power,\\nOne friendly ray on that benighted hour.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "THE miller s maid. 129\\nNe er did the chieftains of a warring state\\nHear from the oracle their half-told fate\\nWith more religious fear, or more suspense,\\nThan Phoebe now endured for every sense\\nBecame absorb d in this unwelcome theme\\nNay, every meditation, every dream,\\nTh inexplicable sentence held to view.\\nThey re not both mine, was every morning\\nnew\\nFor, till this hour, the maid had never proved\\nMow far she was enthrall d, how much she loved\\nIn that fond character he first appear d,\\nHis kindness charm d her, and his smiles endear d\\ni his dubious mystery the passion cross d\\nHer peace was wounded, and her lover lost.\\nFor George vi ith all his resolution strove\\nTo check the progress of his growing love\\nOr, if he e er indulged a tender kiss,\\nTh unravell d secret robb d him of his bliss\\nHealth s foe, Suspense, so irksome to be borne.\\nAn ever-piercing and retreating thorn.\\nHung on their hearts, when nature bade them rise,\\nAnd stole content s bright ensign from their eyes.\\nThe good folks saw the change, and giicved to\\nfind\\nThese troubles labouring in Phoebe s mind\\nThey loved them both and wilii one voice pro-\\nposed\\nThe only means whence truth might be disclosed\\n9", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "130 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nThat, when the summer months should shrink the\\nrill,\\nAnd scarce its languid stream would turn the mil!,\\nWhen the spring broods, and pigs, and lambs\\nwere rear d,\\n(A time when George and Phoebe might be\\nspared,)\\nTheir birth-place they should visit once again,\\nTo try with joint endeavours to obtain\\nFrom record, or tradition, what might be\\nTo chain, or set their chain d affections free\\nAffinity beyond all doubts to prove\\nOr clear the road for nature and for love.\\nNever, till now, did Phoebe count the hours.\\nOr think May long, or wish away its flowers\\nWith mutual sighs both fann d the wings of time\\nAs we climb hills and gladden as we climb,\\nAnd reach at last the distant promised seat.\\nCasting the glowing landscape at our feet.\\nOft had the morning rose with dew been wet,\\nAnd oft the journeying sun in glory set,\\nBeyond the willow d meads of vigorous grass.\\nThe steep green hill, and woods they were to pass\\nWhen now the day arrived impatience reign d\\nAnd George, by trifling obstaces dctain d,\\nHis bending blackthorn on the threshold press d,\\nSurvey d the windward clouds, and hoped the best.\\nPhoebe, attired with every modest grace,\\nWhile health and beauty revell d in her face,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "THE MILLER S MAID. 131\\nCame forth but soon evinced an absent mind,\\nFor back she turn d for something left behind\\nAgain the same, till George grew tired of home,\\nAnd peevishly exclaim d, Come, Phoebe, come.\\nAnother hindrance j^et he had to feel\\nAs from the, door they tripp d with nimble heel,\\nA poor old man, foot-founder d and alone.\\nThus urgent spoke, in trouble s genuine tone\\nMy pretty maid, if happiness you seek,\\nMay disappointment never fade your cheek\\nYours be the joy yet, feel another s woe\\nO leave some little gift before you go.\\nHis words struck home and back she turn d again\\n(The ready friend of indigence and pain,)\\nTo banish hunger from his shatter d frame\\nAnd close behind her, lo, the miller came.\\nWith jug in hand, and cried, George, why such\\nhaste?\\nHere, take a draught, and let that soldier taste 1\\nThanks for your bounty, sir, the veteran said\\nThrew down his wallet, and made bare his head\\nAnd straight began, tho mix d with doubts and\\nfears,\\nTh unprefaced history of his latter years.\\nI bross d th Atlantic with my comrades brave.\\nWhere sickness sweeps whole regiments to the\\ngrave,\\nYet I ve escaped and bear my arms no more\\nMy age discharged me when I came on shore.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "132 RURAL TALIiS, ETC.\\nMy wife, I ve heard, and here he wiped hfe\\neyes\\nIn the cold corner of the church-yard lies.\\nBy lier consent it was I left my home\\nEmployment fail d, and poverty was come\\nThe bounty tempted me she had it all\\nWe parted and I ve seen my betters fall.\\nYet, as I m spared, though in this piteous case,\\nI m trav lling homeward to my native place;\\nThough should I reach that dear remember d spot,\\nPerhaps old Granger will be quite forgot.\\nAll eyes beheld young George with vponder\\nstart\\n(Strong were the secret bodings of his heart;\\nYet not indulged for he with doubts survey d\\nBy turns the stranger and the lovely maid.\\nHad you no children Y^es, young man, I d\\ntwo\\nA boy, if still he lives, as old as you\\nYet not my own but likely so to prove;\\nThough but the pledge of an unlawful love\\nI cherish d him to hide a sister s shame\\nHe shared my best affections, and my name.\\nBut why, young folks, should I detain you herel\\nGo and may blessings wait upon your cheer.\\nI, too, will travel on perhaps to find\\nThe only treasure that I left behind.\\nSuch kindly thoughts my fainting hopes revive.\\nPhcBbe, my cherub, art thou still alive 1", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "THE culler s maid. 133\\nCould nature hold could youthful love for-\\nbear]\\nGeorge clasp d the wond ring maid, and whispered\\nThere\\nYou re mine for ever O, sustain the rest\\nAnd hush the tumult of your throbbing breast.\\nThen to the soldier turn d with manly pride,\\nAnd fondly led his long-intended bride.\\nHere see your child nor wish a sweeter flower.\\nTis George that speaks thou lt blcs.s the happy\\nhour!\\nNay, be composed for all will yet be well,\\nI hough here our history s too long to tell.\\nA long-lost father found, the mystery clear d,\\nWhat mingled transports in her face appear d\\nThe gazing veteran stood with hands upraised\\nArt thou indeed my child 1 then, God be\\npraised.\\nO er his rough cheeks the tears profusely spread,\\nSuch as fools say become not men to shed\\nPast hours of bliss, regenerated charms.\\nRose, when he felt his daughter in his arms\\nSo tender was the scene, the generous dame\\nWept, as she told of Phoebe s virtuous fame.\\nAnd the good host, with gestures passing strange.\\nAbstracted seem d through fields of joy to range\\nRejoicing that his favour d roof should prove\\nirtue a asylum, and the nurse to love", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "]34 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nRejoicing that to him the task was given.\\nWhile his full soul was mounting up to heav n.\\nBut now, as from a dream his reason sprung,\\nAnd heartiest greetings dwelt upon his tongue\\nThe sounding kitchen floor at once received\\nThe happy group, with all their fears relieved\\nSoldier, he cried, you ve found your girl, tis\\ntrue\\nBut suffer me to be a father, too\\nFor, never child that bless d a parent s knee,\\nCould show more duty than she has to me.\\nStrangely she came affliction chased her hard\\nI pitied her and this is my reward\\nHere sit you down recount your perils o er.\\nHenceforth be this your home; and grieve no\\nmore\\nPlenty hath shower d her dewdrops on ray head;\\nCare visits not my table, nor my bed.\\nMy heart s warm wishes thus then I fulfil\\nMy dame and I can live without the mill\\nGeorge, take the whole; I ll near you still re-\\nmain.\\nTo guide your judgment in the choice of grain\\nIn virtue s path commence your prosperous life,\\nAnd from my hand receive your worthy wife.\\nRise, Phoebe rise, my girl kneel not to me,\\nBut to that Pow r who interposed for thee.\\nIntet^rity hath mark d your favourite youth;\\nFair budding honour, constancy, and truth", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "THE miller s maid. 135\\nGo to his arms; and may unsullied joys\\nBring smiling round me rosy girls and boys\\nI ll love them for thy sake. And may your days\\nGlide on, as glides the stream that never stays;\\nBright as whose shingled bed, till hfe s decline,\\nMay all your worth, and all your virtues shine!", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "136\\nTHE WIDOW TO HER HOUR-GLASS.\\nCo3iE, friend, I ll turn thee up again\\nCompanion of the lonely hour\\nSpring thirty times hath fed with ram\\nAnd clothed with leaves my humble bower,\\nSince thou hast stood\\nIn frame of wood,\\nOn chest or window by my side\\nAt every birth still thou wert near,\\nStill spoke thine admonitions clear\\nAnd, when my husband died.\\nII.\\nI ve often watch d thy streaming sand,\\nAnd seen the growing mountains rise,\\nAnd often found life s hopes to stand\\nOn props as weak in wisdom s eyes\\nIts conic crown\\nStill sliding down.\\nAgain heap d up, then down again;\\nThe sand above more hollow grew.\\nLike days and years still filt ring through,\\nAnd mingling joy with pain.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE WIDOW TO HER HOUR-GLASS. 1 )7\\nWhile thus I spin, and sometimes sing,\\n(For now and then my heart will glow,)\\nThou measur st time s expanding wing.\\nBy thee the noontide hour I know\\nThough silent thou.\\nStill shalt thou flow,\\nAnd jog along thy destined way\\nBut when I glean the sultry fields.\\nWhen earth her yellow harvest yields,\\nThou gett st a holiday.\\nIV.\\nSteady as truth, on either end\\nThy daily task performing well,\\nThou rt meditation s constant friend,\\nAnd strik st the heart without a bell\\nCome, lovely May\\nThy lengthen d day\\nShall gild once more my native plain\\nCurl inward here, sweet woodbine flower\\nCompanion of the lonely hour,\\nI ll turn thee up again.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "138\\nMARKET NIGHT.\\nO wiBfDs howl not so long and loud\\nNor with your vengeance arm the snow\\nBear hence each heavy-loaded cloud\\nAnd let the twinkling star-beams glow.\\nNow sweeping floods rush down the slope,\\nWide scattering ruin Stars, shine soon\\nNo other light my love can hope\\nMidnight will want the joyous moon.\\nO guardian spirits Ye that dwell\\nWhere woods, and pits, and hollow ways\\nThe lone night-trav ller s fancy swell\\nWith fearful tales of older days,\\nIV.\\nPress round him, guide his willing, steed\\nThrough darkness, dangers, currents, snows j\\nWait where, from shelt ring thickets freed,\\nThe dreary heath s rude whirlwind blows", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "MARKET XIGHT. 139\\nThat o er the hill with furious svi/eep\\nNow writhes, now rends the shiv ring tree\\nSure-footed beast, thy road thou lt keep:\\nNor storm nor darkness startles thee\\nO blest assurance, (trusty steed,)\\nTo thee the buried road is known\\nHome, all the spur thy footsteps need,\\nWhen loose the frozen rein is thrown.\\nVII.\\nBetween the roaring blasts that shake\\nThe naked alder at the door,\\nThough not one prattler to me speak,\\nTheir sleeping sighs delight me more.\\nSound is their rest: they little know\\nWhat pain, what cold, their father feels\\nBut dream, perhaps, they see him now,\\nWhile each the promised orange peels.\\nWould it were so the fire burns bright.\\nAnd on the warming trencher gleams\\nIn expectation s raptured sight\\nHow precious his arrival seems", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "140 KURAL TALES, ETC.\\nX.\\nI ll look abroad tis piercing cold I\\nHow the bleak wind assails his breast\\nYet there the parting clouds unfold\\nThe storm is verging o er the west.\\nThere shines a star O welcome sight\\nThrough the thin vapours bright ning still\\nYet, twas beneath the fairest night\\nThe murd rer stain d yon lonely hill.\\nMercy, kind Heaven such thoughts dispel\\nNo voice, no foot is heard around\\nPerhaps he s near the haunted well\\nBut Dapple knows each inch of ground.\\nDistressing hour uncertain fate\\nO mercy, mercy, guide him home\\nHark then I heard the distant gate,\\nRepeat it, echo quickly, come\\nOne minute now will ease my fears\\nOr, still more wretched must I be\\nNo surely heaven has spared our tears\\nI see him, clothed in snow tis he.\u00e2\u0080\u0094", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "MARKET NIGHT. 141\\nWhere have you stay d put down your load\\nHow have you borne the storm, the cold 1\\nWhat horrors did I not forbode\\nThat beast is worth his weight in gold.\\nThus spoke the joyful wife then ran\\nIn grateful streams to hide her head\\nDapple was housed, the weary man\\nWith joy glanced o er the children s bed.\\nWhat, all asleep so best, he cried:\\nO what a night I ve travell d through\\nUnseen, unheard, I might have died\\nBut Heaven has brought me safe to you.\\nDear partner of my nights and days.\\nThat smile becomes thee let us then\\nLearn, though mishap may cross our ways,\\nIt is not ours to reckon when.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "143\\nTHE FAKENHAM GHOST.\\nA BALLAD.\\nThe lawns were dry in Euston Park\\n(Here truth* inspires my tale,)\\nThe lonely footpath, still and dark.\\nLed over hill and dale.\\nBenighted was an ancient dame,\\nAnd fearful haste she made,\\nTo gain the vale of Fakenham,\\nAnd hail its willow shade.\\nHer footsteps knew no idle stops,\\nBut follow d faster still-;\\nAnd echo d to the darksome copse\\nThat whisper d on the hill\\nThis ballad is founded on a fact. The circumstance\\nuccurred perhaps long before I was born but is still\\nrelated by my mother, and some of the oldest inhabit-\\nants of that part of the country. R. B.\\nncc", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "THE FAKE^ HA-M GHOST. 143\\nTV.\\nWhere clam rous rooks, yet scarcely hush d,\\nBespoke a peopled shade\\nAnd many a wing the foliage brush d\\nAnd hov ring circuits made.\\nThe dappled herd of grazing deer\\nThat sought the shades by day,\\nNow started from her path in fear\\nAnd gave the stranger way.\\nDarker it grew and darker fears\\nCame o er her troubled mind\\nWhen now, a short quick step she hears\\nCome patting close behind.\\nf^he turn d, it stopp d nought could she see\\nUpon the gloomy plain\\nBut, as she strove the sprite to flee,\\nShe heard the same asrain.\\nXow terror seized her quaking frame\\nFor, where the path was bare.\\nThe trotting ghost kept on the same I\\nhe mutter d many a pray r.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "144 KURAL TALES, ETC.\\nYet once again, amidst her fright,\\nShe tried what sight could do\\nWhen through the cheating glooms of night\\nA monster stood in view.\\nRegardless of whate er she felt,\\nIt foUow d down the plain\\nShe own d her sins, and down she knelt,\\nAnd said her pray rs again.\\nThen on she sped and hope grew strong\\nThe white park-gate in view\\nWhich pushing hard so long it swung\\nThat ghost and all pass d through.\\nLoud fell the gate against the post,\\nHer heart-strings like to crack\\nFor, much she fear d the grisly ghost\\nWould leap upon her back.\\nStill on, pit pat, the goblin went.\\nAs it had done before\\nHer strength and resolution spent.\\nShe fainted at the door.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "THE FAKEXHAM GHOST. 145\\nXIV.\\nOut came her husband much surprised\\nOut came her daughter dear:\\nGood-natured souls all unadvised\\nOf what they had to fear.\\nXV.\\nThe candle s gleam pierced through the night,\\nSome short space o er the green\\nAnd there the little trotting sprite\\nDistinctly might be seen.\\nAn ass s foal had lost its dam\\nWithin the spacious park\\nAnd simple as the playful lamb,\\nHad follow d in the dark.\\nIVo goblin he no imp of sin\\nNo crimes had ever known\\nThey took the shaggy stranger in\\nAnd rear d him as their own.\\nXVIIT.\\nHis little hoofs would rattle round\\nUpon the cottage floor\\nThe matron learn d to love the sound\\nThat frighten d her before.\\n10", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "146 KtlRAL TALES, ETC.\\nA flivorite the ghost became\\nAnd twas his fate to thrive\\nAnd long he Uved and spread his fame,\\nAnd kept the joke aUve.\\nFor many a laugh went through the vale,\\nAnd some conviction too\\nEach thought some other goblin tale\\nPerhaps was just as true.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "147\\nTHE FRENCH MARINER.\\nA BALLAD.\\nAx old French mariner am I,\\nWhom time hath render d poor an4 gray\\nHear, conquering Britons, ere I die,\\nWhat anguish prompts me thus to say.\\nI ve rode o er many a dreadful wave,\\nI ve seen the reeking blood descend\\nI ve heard the last groans of the brave\\nThe shipmate dear, the steady friend.\\nTwas when De Grasse the battle join d,\\nAnd struck, on April s fatal morn\\nI left three smiling boys behind,\\nAnd saw my country s hly torn.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "148 KURAL TALES\\nThere, as I braved the storms of fate,\\nDead in my arms my brother fell\\nHere sits forlorn his widovv d mate,\\nWho weeps whene er the tale I tell.\\nThy reign, sweet peace, was o er too soon\\nWar piecemeal robs me of my joy\\nFor, on the blood-stain d first of June,\\nDeath took my eldest favorite boy.\\nThe other two enraged arose,\\nOur country claims our lives, they said\\nWith them I lost my soul s repose\\nThat fatal hour my last hope fled.\\nWith Brueys the proud Nile they sought,\\nWhere one in ling ring wounds expir d\\nWhile yet the other bravely fought.\\nThe Orient s magazine was fired.\\nTill.\\nAnd must I mourn my country s shame?\\nAnd envious curse the conquering foe\\nNo more I feel that thirst of fame\\nAll I can feel is private woe.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "THE FRENCH MARINER, 149\\nIX.\\nE en all the joy that vict ry brings,\\n(Her bellowing guns, and flaming pride,)\\nCold, momentary comfort flings\\nAround where weeping friends reside\\nWhose blighted bud no sun shall cheer,\\nWhose lamp of life no longer shine\\nSome parent, brother, child, most dear,\\nWho ventured and who died like mine.\\nXI.\\nProud-crested fiend, the world s worst foe,\\nAmbition, can st thou boast one deed,\\nWhence no unsightly horrors flow,\\nNor private peace is seen to bleed\\nAh why do these old eyes remain\\nTo see succeeding mornings rise!\\nMy wife is dead, my children slain,\\nAnd poverty is all my prize.\\nYet shall not poor unfeebled age\\nBreathe forth revenge but kneel and pray,\\nO God, who seest the battle s rage.\\nTake from men s hearts that rage away.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "RURAL TALES, ET 150\\nFrom the vindictive tongue of strife,\\nBid hatred and false glory flee\\nThat babes may meet advancing life,\\nNor feel the woes that light on me.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "151\\nDOLL Y.\\nIngenuous trust, and confidence of love.\\nThe bat began with giddy wing\\nHis circuit round the shed, the tree,\\nAnd clouds of dancing gnats to sing\\nA summer-night s serenity.\\nII.\\nDarkness crept slowly o er the east,\\nUpon the barn-roof watch d the cat\\nSweet breathed the ruminating beast.\\nAt rest where Dolly musing sat.\\nA simple maid, who could employ\\nThe silent lapse of evening mild,\\nAnd loved its solitary joy\\nFor Dolly was reflection s child.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "152 KUKAL TALES, ETC.\\nHe who hail pledged his word to he\\nHer life s dear guardian, far away,\\nThe flow r of yeoman cavalry,\\nBestrode a steed with trappings gay.\\nAnd thus from mem ry s treasured sweets,\\nAnd thus from love s pure fount she drew\\nThat peace, which busy care defeats.\\nAnd bids our pleasures bloom anew.\\nSix weeks of absence have I borne\\nSince Henry took his fond farewell\\nThe charms of that delightful morn\\nMy tongue could thus for ever tell.\\nHe at my window whistling loud.\\nAroused my lightsome heart to go\\nDay, conqu ring, climb d from cloud to cloud\\nThe fields all wore a purple glow.\\nWe stroU d the bordering flow rs among:\\nOne hand the bridle held behind;\\nThe other round my waist was flung\\nSure never youth spoke half so kind", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "153\\nIX.\\nThe rising lark I could but hear;\\nAnd jocund seem d the song to be\\nBut sweeter sounded in my ear,\\n^yill Dolly still be true to me\\nFrom the rude dock my skirt had swept\\nA fringe of clinging burs so green\\nLike them our hearts still closer crept,\\nAnd hook d a thousand holds unseen.\\nHigh o er the road each branching bough\\nIts globes of silent dew had shed\\nAnd on the j)i]re-wash d sand below\\nJ he dimpling drops around had spread.\\nXII.\\nThe sweet-brier oped its pink-eyed rose\\nAnd gave its fragrance to the gale;\\nJ hough modest flow rs may sweets disclose\\nMore sweet was Henry s earnest tale.\\nXIII.\\nHo seem d, methought, on that dear morn,\\nTo pour out all his heart to me\\nAs if, the separation borne,\\nThe coming hours would joyless be.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "154 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nA bank rose high beside the way,\\nAnd full against the morning sun\\nOf heav nly blue the violets gay\\nHis hand invited one by one.\\nThe posy with a smile he gave\\nI saw his meaning in his eyes\\nThe wither d treasure still I have\\nMy bosom holds the fragrant prize.\\nXVI.\\nWith his last kiss he would have vow d,\\nBut blessings crowding forced their way\\nThen mounted he his courser proud\\nHis time was gone, he could not stay.\\nThen first I felt the parting pang\\nSure the worst pang the lover feels\\nHis horse unruly from me sprang.\\nThe pebbles flew beneath his heels.\\nThen down the road his vigour tried,\\nHis rider gazing, gazing still;\\nMy dearest, I ll be true, he cried\\nAnd if he lives, I m sure he will.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "155\\nLINES,\\nOccasioned by a Visit to Whittlebury Forest, North-\\namptonshire, in August, 1800.\\nADDRESSED TO MY CHILDREN.\\nI.\\nGexius of the forest shades,\\nLend thy pow r, and lend thine ear\\nA stranger trod thy lonely glades,\\nAmidst thy dark and bounding deer\\nInquiring childhood claims the verse,\\nO let them not inquire in vain\\nBe with me vfhile I thus rehearse\\nThe glories of thy sylvan reign.\\nThy dells by wintry currents worn,\\nSecluded haunts, how dear to me\\nFrom all but nature s converse borne,\\nNo ear to hear, no eye to see.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "156 HrKAL TALES, ETC.\\nTheir honour d leaves the green oaks rear d,\\nAnd crown d the uphind s graceful swell\\nWhile answering through the vale was heard\\nEach distant heii er s tinkling bell.\\nIII.\\nHail, greenwood shades, that stretching far,\\nDefy e en summer s noontide pow r,\\nWhen iVugust in his burning car\\nWithholds the clouds, withholds the sliow r.\\nThe deep-toned low from either hill,\\nDown hazel aisles and arches green,\\nI he herd s rude tracks from rill to rill,)\\nRoar d echoing through the solemn scene.\\nFrom my cliarm d heart the numbers sprung,\\nThough birds had ceased the choral lay:\\nI pour d wild raptures from my tongue,\\nAnd gave delicious tears their way.\\nThen, darker shadows seeking still.\\nWhere human foot had seldom stray d,\\nI read aloud to every hill\\nISweet Emma s love, the nut-brown maid.\\nShaking his matted mane on high,\\nThe gazing colt would raise his head,\\nOr tim rous doe would rushing fly,\\nAnd leave to me her grassy bed", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0096\u00a0WIIITTLEBURY FOREST. 157\\nWhore, as the azure sky appear d\\nThrough bow rs of ever varying form,\\nMidst the deep gloom methought I heard\\nThe daring progress of the storm.\\nHow would each sweeping pond rous bough\\nResist, when straight the whirlwind cleaves,\\nDashing in strength ning eddies through\\nA roaring wilderness of leaves\\nHow would the prone descending show r\\nFrom the green canopy rebound\\nHow would the lowland torrents pour\\nHow deep the pealing thunder sound\\nBut peace was there: no light nings blazed\\nNo clouds obscured the face of heav n,\\nDown each green op ning while I gazed,\\nMy thoughts to home, and you, were given.\\nO, tender minds in life s gay morn.\\nSome clouds must dim your coming day\\nYet bootless, pride and fasehood scorn,\\nAnd peace like this shall cheer your way.\\nNow, at the dark wood s stately side,\\nWell pleased I met the sun again\\nFlere fleeting fancy travell d wide\\nMy seat was destined to the main", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "158 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nFor many an oak lay stretch d at length,\\nWhose trunks (with bark no longer sheath d)\\nHad reach d their full meridian strength\\nBefore your father s father breathed\\nPerhaps they ll many a conflict brave,\\nAnd many a dreadful storm defy\\nThen; groaning o er the adverse wave,\\nBring home the flag of victory.\\nGo, then, proud oaks we meet no more I\\nGo, grace the scenes to me denied,\\nThe white chffs round my native shore\\nAnd the loud ocean s swelling tide.\\nGenius of the forest shades,\\nSweet from the heights of thy domain.\\nWhen the gray ev ning shadow fades,\\nTo view the country s golden grain.\\nTo view the gleaming village spire,\\nMidst distant groves unknown to me\\nGroves that grown bright in borrow d fire\\nBow o er the peopled vales to thee.\\nWhere was thy elfin train, that play\\nRound Wake s huge oak, their favorite tree,\\nDancing the twilight hours away 1\\nWhy were they not reveal d to me 1", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "WHITTLEBUKY FOREST. 159\\nYet, smiling fairies left behind,\\nAffection brought you all to view\\nTo love and tenderness resign d,\\nMy heart heaved many a sigh for you.\\nWhen morning still unclouded rose,\\nRefresh d vpith sleep and joyous dreams,\\nWhere fruitful fields with woodlands close,\\nI traced the births of various streams.\\nFrom beds of clay, here creeping rills,\\nUnseen to parent Ouse, would steal\\nOr, gushing from the northward hills,\\nWould glitter through Tove s winding dale.\\nRut ah ye cooling spring.s, farewell\\nHerds, I no more your freedom share\\nIJut long my grateful tongue shall tell\\nWhat brought your gazing stranger there.\\nGenius of the forest shades,\\nLend thy power, and lend thine ear\\nLet dreams still lengthen thy long glades,\\nAnd bring thy peace and silence here.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "160\\nSONG\\nFOR A HIGHLAND DROVER, RETURNING FROM\\nENGLAND.\\nI.\\nNow fare thee well, England; no further I ll\\nroam\\nBut follow my shadow that points the way home\\nYour gay southern shores shall not tempt me to\\nstay;\\nFor my Maggy s at home, and my children at,\\nplay\\nTis this makes my bonnet sit light on my brow,\\nGives my sinews their strength, and my bosom\\nits glow.\\nFarewell, mountaineers my companions, adieu\\nSoon, many long miles when I m sever d from you,\\nI shall miss your white horns on the brink of the\\nburn.\\nAnd o er the rough heaths, where you ll never\\nreturn", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "-HE HIUHLAXD DKOVKIl. 161\\nBut in brave English pastures you cannot com-\\nplain,\\nWhile your drover speeds back to his Maggy\\nagain.\\nO Tweed gentle Tweed, as I pass your green\\nvales,\\nMore than life, more than love, my tired spirit\\ninhales\\nThere Scotland, ray darling, lies full in my view,\\nWith her bare-footed lasses and mountains so\\nblue:\\nTo the mountains away, my heart bound Uke the\\nhind,\\nFor home is so sweet, and my Maggy so kind.\\nIT.\\nAs day after day I still follow my course.\\nAnd in fancy trace back every stream to its source,\\nHope cheers me up hills, where the road lies before,\\nO er hills just as high, and o er tracks of wild\\nmoor;\\nThe keen polar star nightly rising to view\\nBut Maggy s my star, just as steady and true.\\nV.\\nO ghost of my fathers heroes, look down\\nFix my wandering thoughts on your deeds of\\nrenown,\\n11", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "162 KURAL TALES, ETC.\\nFor the glory of Scotland reigns warm in my\\nbreast,\\nAnd fortitude grows both from toil and from rest\\nMay your deeds and your worth be for ever in\\nview,\\nAnd may Maggy bear sons not unworthy of you.\\nLove, why do you urge me, so weary and poor\\nI cannot step faster, I cannot do more\\nI ve pass d silver Tweed e en the Tay flows be-\\nhind\\nYet fatigue I ll disdain my reward I shall find\\nThou, sweet smile of innocence, thou art my\\nprize\\nAnd the joy that will sparkle in Maggy s blue\\neyes.\\nShe ll watch to the southward perhaps she will\\nsigh.\\nThat the way is so long, and the mountain so\\nhigh\\nPerhaps some huge rock in the dusk she may see,\\nAnd will say in her fondness, That surely is he\\nGood wife, you re deceived I m still far from my\\nhome;\\nGo, sleep, my dear Maggy, to-morrow I ll come.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "163\\nA WORD TO TWO YOUNG LADIES.\\nWhen tender rose-trees first receive,\\nOn half-expanded leaves, the shower,\\nHope s gayest pictures we believe,\\nAnd anxious watch each comin? flower.\\nThen, if beneath the genial sun\\nThat spreads abroad the full-blown May,\\nTwo infant stems the rest out-run.\\nTheir buds the first to meet the day\\nWith joy their op ning tints we view,\\nWhile morning s precious moments fly\\nMy pretty maids, tis thus with you.\\nThe fond admiring gazer, I.\\nIV.\\nPreserve, sweet buds, where er you be.\\nThe richest gem that decks a wife\\nThe charm of female modesty\\nAnd let sweet music give it life.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "164 RURAL TALES, ETC.\\nStill may tne favouring muse be found\\nStill circumspect the paths ye tread\\nPlant moral truths in fancy s ground,\\nAnd meet old age without a dread.\\nVI.\\nYet, ere that comes, while yet ye quaff\\nThe cup of health without a pain,\\nI ll shake my gray hairs when you laugh,\\nAnd, when you sing, be young again.*\\nBoth the young ladies had addressed to me a few\\ncomplimentary lines (and I am sorry that those of the\\nelder sister were never in my possession) in return\\nfor which I sent the above. It was received on the\\nday on which the younger completed her ninth year.\\nSurely it cannot be ascribed to vanity, if, in gratitude\\nto a most amiable family, I here preserve verbatim an\\neffort of a child nine years old. I have the more plea-\\nsure in doing it, because I know them to be her own.\\nR. B.\\nAccept, dear bard, the Muse s genuine thought\\nAnd take not ill the tribute of my heart:\\nFor thee the laureate wreath of praise I ll bind.\\nNone that have read thy commendable mind,\\nCan let it pass unnoticed nor can I\\nF\u00c2\u00abr by thy lays I know thy sympathy. F. P.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "165\\nOn hearing of the Translation of part of the Farmer s\\nBoy into Latin, by the Rev. Mr. C.\\nHey, Giles! in what new garb art dressMI\\nFor lads like you, methinks, a bold one\\nI m glad to see thee so caress d\\nBut, hark ye don t despise your old one.\\nThou rt not the first, by many a boy,\\nWho ve found abroad good friends to own em\\nThen in such coats have shown their joy,\\nE en their own fathers have not known em.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "166\\nNANCY.\\nA SONG.\\n4\\nI.\\nifou ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume\\nThat you cherish a secret aflection for me\\nWhen we see the flow rs bud, don t we look for\\nthe bloom 1\\nThen, sweetest, attend, while I answer to thee.\\nII.\\nWhen we young men with pastimes the twilight\\nbeguile,\\nI watch your plump cheek till it dimples with\\njoy:\\nAnd observe, that whatever occasions the smile,\\nYou give me a glance, but provokingly coy.\\nLast month, when wild strawberries, pluck d in\\nthe grove,\\nLike beads on the tall seeded grass you had\\nstrung,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "NANCY. 167\\nYou gave me the choicest I hoped twas for love\\nAnd I told you my hopes while the nightingale\\nsung.\\nIT.\\nRemember the viper twas close at your feet,\\nHow you started, and threw yourself into my\\narms\\nNot a strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet\\nAs the lips which I kiss d to subdue your alarms.\\nAs I puird down the clusters of nuts for my fair.\\nWhat a blow I received from a strong bending\\nbough\\nThough Lucy and other gay lasses were there,\\nNot one of them show d such compassion as you.\\nAnd was it compassion by heav n twas more\\nA tell-tale betrays you; that blush on your\\ncheek\\nThen come, dearest maid, all your trifling give o er.\\nAnd whisper what candour will teach you to\\nspeak.\\nVII.\\nCan you stain my fair honour with one broken vowl\\nCan you say that I ve ever occasion d a pain T\\nOn truth s honest base let your tenderness grow\\nI swear to be faithful again and again.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "168\\nROSY HANNAH.\\nA SPRING, o erhung with many a flower,\\nThe gray sand dancing in its bed,\\nEmbank d beneath a hawthorn bower.\\nSent forth its waters near my head\\nA rosy lass approach d my view\\nI caught her blue eye s modest beam\\nThe stranger nodded How d ye do\\nAnd leap d across the infant stream.\\nII.\\nThe water heedless pass d away\\nWith me her glowing image stay d\\nI strove, from that auspicious day,\\nTo meet and bless tbe lovely maid.\\nI met her where beneath our feet\\nThrough downy moss the wild thyme grew\\nNor moss elastic, flow rs though sweet,\\nMatch d Hannah s cheek of rosy hue.\\nI met her where the dark woods wave,\\nAnd shaded verdure skirts the plain", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "ROSY HANNAH. 169\\nAnd when the pale moon rising gave\\nNew glories to her cloudy train.\\nFrom her sweet cot upon the moor,\\nOur plighted vows to heaven are flown:\\nTruth made me welcome at her door,\\nAnd rosy Hannah is my own.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "170\\nTHE SHEPHERD AND HIS DOG ROVER.\\nRover, awake the gray cock crows\\nCome, shake your coat and go with me-\\nHigh in the east the green hill glows\\nAnd glory crowns our shelt ring tree.\\nThe sheep expect us at the fold\\nMy faithful dog, let s haste away,\\nAnd in his earliest beams behold.\\nAnd hail the source of cheerful day.\\nHalf his broad orb o erlooks the hill\\nAnd darting down the valley flies,\\nAt every casement welcome still,\\nThe golden summons of the skies.\\nGo, fetch my staff; and o er the dews\\nLet echo waft thy gladsome voice\\nShall we a cheerful note refuse\\nWhen rising morn proclaims, Rejoice\\nIII.\\nNow then we ll start and thua I ll sling\\nOur store, a trivial load to bear", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "THE SHEPHERD AXD HIS DOG ROVER. 171\\nYet, ere night comes, should hunger sting,\\nrii not encroach on Rover s share.\\nThe fresh breeze bears its sweets along\\nThe lark but chicles us vphile we stay\\nSoon shall the vale repeat my song\\nGo brush before, away, away", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "172\\nHUNTING SONG.\\nYk darksome woods, where Echo dwells,\\nWhere every bud with freedom swells\\nTo meet the glorious day\\nThe morning breaks again rejoice\\nAnd with old Ringwood s well-known voice\\nBid tuneful Echo play.\\nWe come, ye groves, ye hills, we come\\nThe vagrant fox shall hear his doom.\\nAnd dread our jovial train.\\nThe shrill horn sounds, the courser flies,\\nWhile every sportsman joyful cries,\\nThere s Ringwood s voice again.\\nYe meadows, hail the coming throng,\\nYe peaceful streams, that wind along,\\nRepeat the hark- away\\nFar o er the downs, ye gales that sweep,\\nThe daring oak that crowns the steep,\\nThe roaring peal convey.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "HUJfTING SONG. 173\\nThe chiming notes of cheerful hounds\\nHark how the hollow dale resounds\\nThe sunny hills how gay.\\nBut where s the note, brave dog, like thine 1\\nThen urge the steed, the chorus join\\nTis Ringwood leads the way.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "174\\nLUCY.\\nA SONG.\\nI.\\nThy favorite bird is soaring still\\nMy Lucy, haste thee o er the dale\\nThe stream s let loose, and from the mill\\nAll silent comes the balmy gale\\nYet, so lightly on its way.\\nSeems to whisper Holiday.\\nThe pathway flowers that Ijending meet,\\nAnd give the meads their yellow hue,\\nThe May-bush and the meadow sweet\\nReserve their fragrance all for you.\\nWhy, then, Lucy, why delay\\nLet us share the Holiday.\\nSince there thy smiles, my charming maid,\\nAre with unfeigned rapture seen.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "175\\nTo beauty be the homage paid\\nCome, claim the triumph of the green.\\nHere s my hand, come, come away;\\nShare the merry HoUday.\\nA promise, too, my Lucy made,\\n(And shall my heart its claim resign?)\\nThat ere May flowers again should fade.\\nHer heart and hand should both be mine.\\nHark ye, Lucy, this is May\\nLove should crown our Holiday.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "176\\nWINTER SONG.\\nDear boy, throw that icicle down,\\nAnd sweep this deep snow from the door\\nOld Winter comes on with a frown\\nA terrible frown for the poor.\\nIn a season so rude and forlorn,\\nHow can age, how can infancy bear\\nThe silent neglect and the scorn\\nOf those who have plenty to spare 1\\nII.\\nFresh broach d is my cask of old ale.\\nWell-timed now the frost is set in\\nHere s Job come to tell us a tale,\\nWe ll make him at home to pin.\\nWhile my wife and I bask o er the fire,\\nThe roll of the seasons will prove\\nThat time may diminish desire,\\nBut cannot extinguish true love.\\nO the pleasures of neighbourly chat\\nIf you can but keep scandal away.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "WINTER SOXff. 177\\nTo learn what the world has been at,\\nAnd what the great orators say\\nThough the wind through the crevices sing,\\nAnd hail down the chimney rebound,\\nI m happier than many a king.\\nWhile the bellows blows bass to the sound.\\nAbundance was never my lot\\nBut out of the trifle that s given,\\nThat no curse may alight on my cot,\\nI ll distribute the bounty of Heav n.\\nThe fool and the slave gather wealth\\nBut if I add nought to my store,\\nYet while I keep Conscience in health,\\nI ve a mine that will never grow poor.\\n12", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "WILT) FLOWERS\\n(179)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "DEDICATION.\\nMy Dear Boy,\\nIn thus addressing myself to you, and in express-\\ning my regard for your person, my anxiety for your\\nhealth, and my devotion to your welfare, I enjoy an\\nadvantage over those dedicators who indulge in adu-\\nlation I shall at least be believed.\\nShould you arrive at that period when reason shall\\nbe mature, and affection or curiosity induce you to\\nlook back on your father s poetical progress through\\nlife, you may conclude that he had many to boast as\\nfriends, whose names, in a dedication, would have\\nhonoured both him and his children but you must\\nalso reflect, that to particularize such friends, was a\\npoint of peculiar delicacy. The earliest patron of my\\nunprotected strains has the warm thanks which are\\nhis due, for the introduction of blessings, which have\\nbeen diffused through our whole family and nothing\\nwill ever change this sentiment. But amidst a gene-\\nral feeling of gratitude, which those who know me\\nnever dispute, I feel for you, Charles, what none but\\nparents can conceive and on your account, my dear\\nboy, there can be no harm in telling the world that I\\nhope these Wild Flowers will be productive of\\n(181)", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "182 DEDICATION.\\nsweets of the worldly kind for your unfortunate\\nlameness (should it never be removed) may preclude\\nyou from the means of procuring comforts and advan-\\ntages which might have otherwise fallen to your share.\\nWhat a lasting, what an unspeakable satisfaction\\nwould it be to know that the Ballads, the Plough-\\nman Stories, and the Broken Crutch of your fa-\\nther, would eventually contribute to lighten your steps\\nto manhood, and make your own crutch through life,\\nrather a memorial of affection than an object of sor-\\nrow.\\nWith a parent s feelings, and a parent s cares,\\nI am, Charles, yours,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nR. B.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "183\\nABNER AND THE WIDOW JONES.\\nA FAMILIAR BALLAD.\\nWell Fm determined that s enough\\nGee, Bayard move your poor old bones\\nI ll take to-morrow, smooth or rough,\\nTo go and court the Widow Jones.\\nOur master talks of stable-room,\\nAnd younger horses on his grounds\\nTis easy to foresee thy doom,\\nBayard, thou lt go to feed the hounds.\\nBut, could I win the widow s hand,\\nI d make a truce twixt death and thee\\nFor thou upon the best of land\\nShould st feed, and live and die with me.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "184 WILD FLOWEKS.\\nAnd must the pole-axe lay thee low\\nAnd will they pick thy poor old bones\\nNo hang me, if it shall be so,\\nIf I can win the Widow Jones.\\nTwirl went his stick his curly pate\\nA bran new hat uplifted bore\\nAnd Abner, as he leap d the gate,\\nHad never look d so gay before.\\nAnd every spark of love revived\\nThat had perplex d him long ago,\\nWhen busy folks and fools contrived\\nTo make his Mary answer No,\\nBut whether, freed from recent vows.\\nHer heart had back to Abner flown,\\nAnd mark d him for a second spouse,\\nIn truth, is not exactly known.\\nVIII.\\nHowbeit, as he came in sight,\\nShe turn d her from the garden stile,\\nAnd downward look d with pure delight,\\nWith half a sigh and half a smile.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "ABNEK A.\\\\D THE WIDOW JO^ES. ]85\\nIX.\\nShe heard his sounding step behind\\nThe blush of joy crept up her cheek,\\nAs cheerly floated on the wind,\\nHoi Mary Jones what, won t you speak?\\nX.\\nThen, with a look that ne er deceives.\\nShe turn d, and found her courage fled\\nAnd scolding sparrows from the eaves\\nPeep d forth upon the stranger s head.\\nDown Abncr sat, with glowing heart.\\nResolved, whatever might betide,\\nTo speak his mind no other art\\nHe ever knew, or ever tried.\\nAnd gently twitching Mary s hand\\nThe bench had ample room for two,\\nHis first word made her understand\\nThe ploughman s errand was to woo.\\nxm.\\nMy Mary may I call thee soT\\nFor many a happy day we ve seen.\\nAnd if not mine, ay, years ago,\\nWhose was the fault? you might have been.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "18b WILD FLOWEKS.\\nXIV.\\nAll that s gone by but I ve been musing,\\njVnd vow d, and hope to keep it true,\\nThat she shall be my own heart s choosing\\nWhom I call wife. Hey, what say you 1\\nAnd as I drove my plough along,\\nAnd felt the strength that s in my arm.\\nTen years, thought I, amidst my song,\\nI ve been head man at Harewood farm.\\nAnd, now, my own dear Mary s free,\\nWhom I have loved this many a day,\\nWho knows but she may think on me P\\nI ll go hear what she has to say.\\nXVII.\\nPerhaps that little stock of land\\nShe holds, but knows not how to till,\\nMay suffer in the widow s hand.\\nAnd make poor Mary poorer still.\\nThat scrap of land, with one like her.\\nHow we might live and be so blest\\nAnd who should Mary Jones prefer 1\\nWhy, surely, him who loves her best", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "ABNER AXD THE WIDOW JONES. 187\\nTherefore I come, to-night, sweet wench,\\nI would not idly thus intrude\\nMary look d downward on the bench,\\nO erpowered by love and gratitude\\nAnd lean d her head against the vine\\nWith quick ning sobs of silent bliss\\nTill Abner cried, You must be mine,\\nYou must, and seal d it with a kiss.\\nShe talk d of shame, and wiped her cheek,\\nBut what had shame with them to do,\\nWho nothing meant but truth to speak,\\nAnd downright honour to pursue 1\\nHis eloquence improved apace.\\nAs manly pity fiU d his mind\\nYou know poor Bayard here s the case,\\nHe s past his labour, old, and blind\\nIf you and I should but agree\\nTo settle here for good and all.\\nCould you give all your heart to me.\\nAnd grudge that poor old rogue a stall 1", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "188 WILD rLOWERS.\\nI ll buy him for the dogs shall never\\nSet tooth upon a friend so true\\nHe ll not Uve long but I for ever\\nShall know I gave the beast his due.\\nxxy.\\nMongst all I ve known of ploughs and carts,\\nAnd ever since I learn d to drive,\\nHe was not match d in all these parts\\nThere was not such a horse alive\\nReady, as birds to meet the morn,\\nWere all his efforts at the plough\\nThen the mill-brook, with hay or corn,\\nGood creature how he d spatter through\\nHe was a horse of mighty power.\\nCompact in frame, and strong of lirrfc\\nWent with a chirp from hour to hour:\\nWhip-cord twas never made for him.\\nI left him in the shafts behind,\\nHis fellows all unhook d and gone.\\nHe neigh d and deem d the thing unkind,\\nThen, starting, drew the load along!", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "ABNER AND THE WIDOW. JONES, 189\\nBut I may talk till pitch-dark night,\\nAnd then have something left to say\\nBut, Mary, am I wrong or right 1\\nOr, do I throw my words away 1\\nLeave me, or taKe nie and my horse\\nI ve told thee truth, and all I know\\nTruth s/tou/c? breed truth that comes of course\\nIf I sow wheat, why wheat will grow.\\nYes, Abner, but thus soon to yield.\\nNeighbours would fleer, and look behind em\\nThough, with a husband in the field.\\nPerhaps, indeed, I should not mind em.\\nI ve known your generous nature well\\nMy first denial cost me dear\\nHow this may end we cannot tell\\nBut, as for Bayard, bring him here.\\nXXXIII.\\nBless thee for that, the ploughman cried.\\nAt once both starting from the seat.\\nHe stood a guardian by her side,\\nBut talk d of home, twas growing late.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "190 WILD FLOWERS.\\nThen, step for step within his arm,\\nShe cheer d him down the dewy way\\nAnd no two birds upon the farm\\nE er parted with more joy than they.\\nXXXT.\\nWhat news at home The smile he wore\\nOne little sentence turn d to sorrow\\nAn order met him at the door\\nTake Bayard to the hounds to-morrow.\\nYes, yes, thought he and heaved a sigh\\nDie when he will he s not your debtor\\nI must obey, and he must die,\\nThat s if I can t contrive it better.\\nHe left his Mary late at night.\\nAnd had succeeded in the main\\nNo sooner peep d the morning light\\nBut he was on the road again\\nXXXVIII.\\nSuppose she should refuse her hand\\nSuch thoughts will come, I know not why\\nShall I, without a wife or land,\\nWant an old horse? then, wherefore buyl", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "ABNER AN D THE WIDOW JONES. 191\\nFrom bush to bush, from stile to stile,\\nPerplex d he trod the fallow ground,\\nAnd told his money all the while.\\nAnd weigh d the matter round and round.\\nI ll borrow that s the best thought yet\\nMary shall save the horse s life\\nKind-hearted wench what, run in debt\\nBefore I know she ll be ray wife 1\\nXLI.\\nThese women won t speak plain and free\\nWell, well I ll keep my service still\\nShe has not said she d marry me,\\nBut yet I dare to say she will.\\nXLII.\\nBut while I take this shay-brain d course,\\nAnd like a fool run to and fro,\\nMaster, perhaps, may sell the horse\\nSell him this instant home I ll go.\\nThe nightly rains had drench d the grove,\\nHe plunged right on with headlong pace\\nA man but half as much in love\\nPerhaps had found a cleaner place.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "192 WILD FLOWERS.\\nThe day rose fair with team afield,\\nHe watch d the farmer s cheerful brow\\nAnd in a lucky hour reveal d\\nHis secret at his post the plough.\\nAnd there, without a whine, began\\nMaster, you ll give me your advice\\nI m going to marry if I can\\nAnd want old Bayard what s his price 1\\nFor Mary Jones, last night, agreed.\\nOr near upon t, to be my wife\\nThe horse s value I don t heed\\nI only want to save his Ufe.\\nBuy him, hey Abner trust me, I\\nHave not the thought of gain in view\\nBayard s best days we ve seen go by,\\nHe shall be cheap enough to you.\\nThe wages paid, the horse brought out,\\nThe hour of separation come\\nThe farmer turn d his chair about,\\nGood fellow, take him take him home.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "ABiVER AND THE WIDOW JOXES. lUS\\nYou re welcome, Abner, to the beast,\\nFor you ve a faithful servant been\\nThey ll thrive, I doubt not in the least,\\nWho know what work and service mean.\\nThe maids at parting, one and all.\\nFrom different windows, different tones,\\nBade him farewell with many a bawl.\\nAnd sent their love to Mary Jones.\\nHe waved his hat, and turn d away.\\nWhen loud the cry of children rose\\nAbner, good bye they stopp d their play-\\nThere goes poor Bayard there he goes\\nHalf choked with joy, with love, and pride,\\nHe now with dainty clover fed him\\nNow took a short triumphant ride,\\nAnd then again got down and led him.\\nAnd hobbling onward up the hill,\\nThe widow s house was full in sight,\\nHe pulled the bridle harder still,\\nCome on, we sha nt be there to-night.\\n13", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "194 WILD FLOWERS.\\nShe met them with a smile so sweet,\\nThe stable-door was open thrown\\nThe blind horse lifted high his feet,\\nAnd loudly snorting, laid him down.\\nLV.\\nO Victory from that stock of laurels\\nYou keep so snug for camps and thrones.\\nSpare us one twig from all their quarrels,\\nFor Abner and the Widow Jones", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "195\\nMY OLD OAK TABLE.\\nFrte]!td of ray peaceful days substantial friend,\\nWhom wealth can never change, nor interest\\nbend,\\nI love thee like a child. Thou wert to me\\nThe dumb companion of my misery,\\nAnd oftener of my joys then as I spoke,\\nI shared thy sympathy, Old Heart of Oak\\nFor surely, when my labour ceased at night.\\nWith trembling, feverish hand, and aching sight,\\nThe draught that cheer d me and subdued my\\ncare,\\nOn thy broad shoulders thou wert proud to Ijear.\\nO er thee, with expectation s fire elate,\\nI ve sat and ponder d on my future fate\\nOn thee, with winter muffins for thy store,\\nI ve lean d, and quite forgot that I was poor.\\nWhere dropp d the acorn that gave birth to\\nthee 1\\nCanst thou trace back thy line of ancestry l\\nWe re match d, old friend, and let us not repine,\\nDarkness o erhangs thy origin and mine-", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "rj6 WILD FLOWERS.\\nBoth may be truly honourable yet,\\nWe ll date our honours from the day we met\\nWhen, of my worldly wealth the parent stock,\\nKight welcome up the Thames from Woolwich\\nDock\\nThou cam st when hopes ran high, and love was\\nyoung\\nIJut soon our olive branches round thee sprung;\\n?^oon came the days that tried a faithful wife.\\nThe noise of children, and the cares of life.\\nThen, midst the threat nings of a wintry sky,\\nThat cough which bhghts the bud of infancy,\\nThe dread of parents Rest s inveterate foe\\nCame like a plague, and turn d my songs to woe.\\nRest without thee, what strength can long\\nsurvive 1\\nWhat spirit keep the flame of Hope alive 1\\nThe midnight murmur of the cradle gave\\nSou,nds of despair and chilly as the grave\\nWe felt its undulating blast arise,\\nMidst whisper d sorrows and ten thousand sighs.\\nExpiring embers warn d us each to sleep.\\nBy turns to watch alone by turns to weep\\n13y turns to hear and keep from starting wild\\ni he sad, faint wailings of a dying child.\\nBut Death, obedient to Heaven s high command,\\nWithdrew his jav Iin, and unclench d his hand\\nThe little sufferers triumph d over pain.\\nTheir mother smiled, and bade me hope again.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "MY OLD OAK TABLE. 191!\\nYet Care gain d ground, Exertion triumph d less,\\nThick fell the gathering terrors of Distress\\nAnxiety, and Griefs without a name.\\nHad made their dreadful inroads on my frame\\nThe creeping Dropsy, cold as cold could be,\\nUnnerved my arm, and bow d my head to thee\\nThou to thy trust, old friend, hast not been true\\nThese eyes the bitterest tears they evpr knew\\nIjet fall upon thee now all wiped away\\nBut what from memory shall wipe out that day 1\\nThe great, the wealthy of my native land.\\nTo whom a guinea is a grain of sand-7-\\nI thought upon them, for my thoughts were free,\\nBut all unknown were thfen my woes and me.\\nStill, Resignation was my dearest friend,\\nAnd Reason pointed to a glorious end\\nWith anxious sighs, a parent s hopes and pride,\\nI wish d to live I trust I could have died\\nBut winter s clouds pursued their stormy way.\\nAnd March brought sunshine with the length ning\\nday.\\nAnd bade my heart arise, which, morn and night,\\nNow throbb d with irresistible delight.\\nDelightful twas to leave disease behind,\\nAnd feel the renovation of the mind\\nTo lead abroad, upborne on Pleasure s wing.\\nOur children midst the glories of the spring\\nOur fellow-sufferers, our only wealth.\\nTo gather daisies in the breeze of health.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "19S WILD FLOWERS.\\nTvvas then, too, when our prospects grew sr\\nfair.\\nAnd Sabbath bells announced the morning pray r\\nBeneath that vast gigantic dome we bow d,\\nThat lifts its flaming cross above the cloud\\nHad gain d the centre of the chequer d floor\\nThat instant, with reverberating roar\\nBurst forth the pealing organ mute we stood\\nThe strong sensation boiling through my blood,\\nRose in a storm of joy, allied to pain,\\nI wept and worshipp d God, and wept again\\nAnd felt, amidst the fervour of my praise.\\nThe sweet assurances of better days.\\nIn that gay season, honest friend of mine,\\nI marked the brilliant sun upon thee shine\\nImagination took her flights so free,\\nHome was delicious with my book and thee.\\nThe purchased nosegay, or brown ears of corn.\\nWere thy gay plumes upon a summer s morn.\\nAwakening memory, that disdains control.\\nThey spoke the darling language of my soul\\nThey whisper d tales of joy, of peace, of truth,\\nAnd conjured back the sunshine of my youth.\\nFancy presided at the joyful birth,\\nI pour d the torrent of my feelings forth\\nonscious of truth in Nature s humble track,\\nAnd wrote The Farmer s Boy upon thy back\\nEnough, old friend thou rt mine, and shall par-\\ntake,\\nWhile I have pen to write, or tongue to speak,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "MY OLD OAE TABLE. 199\\nWhatever fortune deals me. Part with thee\\nNo, not till death shall set my spirit free\\nFor know, should plenty crown my hfe s decline,\\nA most important duty may be thine\\nThen, guard me from temptation s base control.\\nFrom apathy and Httleness of soul.\\nJ he sight of thy old frame so rougfi, so rude,\\nShall twitch the sleeve of nodding Gratitude\\nShall teach me but to venerate the more\\nHonest Oak Tables and their guests the poor\\nTeach me unjust distinctions to deride,\\nAnd falsehoods gendered in the brain of Pride\\nShall give to Fancy still the cheerful hour,\\nTo Intellect, its freedom and its power\\nTo Hospitality s enchanting ring\\nA charm, which nothing but thyself can bring.\\nThe man who would not look with honest pride\\nOn the tight bark that stemm d the roaring tide,\\nAnd bore him, where he bow d the trembling knee,\\nHome, through the mighty perils of the sea.\\nI love him not, he ne er shall be my guest\\nNor sip my cup, nor witness how Pm blest\\nNor lean, to bring my honest friend to shame,\\nA sacrilegious elbow on thy frame\\nBut thou through life a monitor shalt prove,\\nSacred to Truth, to Poetry, and Love!", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "200\\nTHE HORKEY.\\nA PROVINCIAL BALLAD.\\nWhat gossips prattled in the sun,\\nWho talk d him fairly down,\\nUp, Memory tell tis Suffolk fun,\\nAnd lingo of their own.\\nAh Judie Twitchet! though thou rt dead,\\nWith thee the tale begins\\nFor still seems thrumming in my head\\nThe rattling of thy pins,\\nThou Queen of knitters! for a ball\\nOf worsted was thy pride\\nWith dangling stockings, great and small,\\nAnd world of clack beside\\nWe did so laugh\u00e2\u0080\u0094 the moon shone bright-\\nMore fun you never knew\\nTwas Farmer Cheerum s Horkey night.\\nAnd I, and Grace, and Sue", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "THE HORKEY. 201\\nBut bring a stool, sit round about,\\nAnd boys, be quiet, pray\\nAnd let me tell my story out\\nTwas sitch a merry day\\nThe butcher whistled at the door.\\nAnd brought a load of meat\\nBoys rubb d their hands, and cried, There s more,\\nDogs wagg d their tails to see t.\\nOn went the boilers till the hake*\\nHad much ado to bear em\\nThe magpie talk d for talking sake.\\nBirds sung but who could hear em 1\\nCrack went the jack the cats were scared,\\nWe had not time to heed em\\nThe owd hins cackled in the yard,\\nFor we forgot to feed em\\nYet twas not I, as I may say,\\nBecause as how, d ye see,\\nI only help d there for the day\\nThey couldn t lay t to me.\\nNow Mrs. Cheerum s best lace cap\\nWas mounted on her head\\nGuests at the door began to rap.\\nAnd now the cloth was spread.\\nA gUdini;; pot-hook.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "20ii WILD FLOWERS.\\nThen clatter went the earthen plates\\nMind, Judie, was the cry\\nI could have cop t* them at their pates\\nTrenchers for me, said I,\\nThat look so clean upon the ledge,\\nAll proof against a fall\\nThey never turn a sharp knife s edge\\nBut fashion rules us all.\\nHome came the joy via Horkey load,\\nLast of the whole year s crop\\nAnd Grace amongst the green boughs rode,\\nRight plump upon the top.\\nThis way and that the wagon reel d.\\nAnd never queen rode higher\\nHer cheeks were colour d in the fields,\\nAnd ours before the fire.\\nThe laughing harvest-folks, and John,\\nCame in and look d askew\\nTwas my red face that set them on,\\nAnd then they leer d at Sue.\\nAnd Farmer Cheerum went, good man,\\nAnd broach d the Horkey beer\\nAnd sitch a mortj^ of folks began\\nTo eat up our good cheer\\nThrown. t Such a number.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "THE HORKEY. 203\\nSays he, Thank God for what s before us\\nThat thus we meet agen\\nThe minghng voices, Hkc a chorus,\\nJoin d cheerfully, Amen.\\nWelcome and plenty, there they found em\\nThe ribs of beef grew light\\nAnd puddings till the boys got round em,\\nAnd then they vanish d quite.\\nNow all the guests, with Farmer Crouder,\\nBegan to prate of corn\\nAnd we found out they talk d the louder.\\nThe oftener pass d the horn.\\nOut came the nuts we set a cracking\\nThe ale came round our way\\nBy gom, we women fell a clacking\\nAs loud agam as they.\\nJohn sung Old Benbow loud and strong,\\nAnd I, The Constant Swain\\nCheer up my Lads, was Simon s song,\\nWe ll conquer them again.\\nNow twelve o clock was drawing nigh,\\nAnd all in merry cue\\nI knock d the cask, O, ho said I,\\nWe ve almost conquer d you.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "204 WILD FLOWERS.\\nMy Lord* begg d round, and held his hat\\nSays Farmer Gruff says he,\\nThere s many a Lord, Sam, I know that,\\nHas begg d as well as thee.\\nBump in his hat the shillings tumbled\\nAll round among the folks\\nLaugh if you wool, said Sam, and mumbled\\nYou pay for all your jokes.\\nJoint stock you know among the men,\\nTo drink at their own charges\\nSo up they got full drive, and then\\nWent out to halloo largess.f\\nAnd sure enough the noise they made\\nBut let me mind my tale:\\nWe followed them, we worn t afraid,\\nWe d all been drinking ale.\\nAs they stood hallooing back to back.\\nWe, lightly as a feather,\\nWent sideling round, and in a crack\\nHad pinn d their coats together.\\nTwas near upon t as light as noon\\nA largess, on the hill,\\nThey shouted to the full round moon,\\nI think I hear em still\\nThe leader of the reapers. i Ask presents.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "THE HORKEV. 205\\nBut when they found the trick, my stars\\nThey well knew who to blame,\\nOur giggles turn d to loud ha, ha s,\\nAnd arter us they came.\\nThe hindmost was the dairy-maid.\\nAnd Sam came blundering by\\nShe could not shun him, so they said\\nI know she did not try.\\nAnd off John set with all his might,\\nTo chase me down the yard,\\nTill I was nearly gran d* outright.\\nHe hugg d so woundy hard.\\nStill they kept up the race and laugh,\\nAnd round the house we flew\\nBut hark ye the best fun by half\\nWas Simon arter Sue.\\nShe cared not, dark nor light, not she,\\nSo, near the dairy door\\nShe pass d a clean white hog, you see.\\nThey d kilt the day before.\\nHigh on the spicketf there it hung,\\nNow, Susie what can save yel\\nRound the cold pig his arms he flung.\\nAnd cried, Ah here I have ye\\nStrangled. t An iron hook.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "206 V/ILD FLOWERS.\\nThe farmers heard what Simon said,\\nAnd what a noise good lack\\nSome almost laugh d themselves to dead,\\nAnd others clapp d his back.\\nWe all at once began to tell\\nWhat fun we had abroad\\nBut Simon stood our jeers right well\\nHe feel asleep and snored.\\nThen in his button-hole upright\\nDid Farmer Crouder put\\nA slip of paper, twisted tight,\\nAnd held the candle to t.\\nIt smoked, and smoked, beneath his nose,\\nThe harmless blaze crept higher\\nTill with a vengeance up he rose,\\nFire, Judie, Sue fire, fire.\\nThe clock struck one some talk d of parting,\\nSome said it was a sin,\\nAnd hitch d their chairs; but those for starting\\nJVow let the moonlight in.\\nOwd women, loitering for the nonce,*\\nStood praising the fine weather\\nThe men folks took the hint at once\\nTo kiss them altogether.\\nFor the purpose.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "THE HORKET. 207\\nAnd out ran every soul beside,\\nA shunny-pated* crew;\\nOwd folks could neither run nor hide,\\nSo some ketch d one, some tew.\\nThey skriggledf and began to scold,\\nBut laughing got the master;\\nSome quack lings^ cried, Let go your hold\\nThe farmers held the faster.\\nAll innocent, that I ll be sworn.\\nThere worn t a bit of sorrow.\\nAnd women, if their gowns were torn,\\nCan mend them on the morrow.\\nOur shadows helter skelter danced\\nAbout the moonlight ground\\nThe wondering sheep, as on we pranced,\\nGot up and gazed around.\\nAnd well they might till Farmer Cheerura,\\nNow with a hearty glee,\\nBade all good morn as he came near em,\\nAnd then to bed went he.\\nThen off we stroU d this way and that,\\nAVith merry voices ringing\\nAnd Echo answer d us right pat,\\nAs home we rambled singing.\\nOidJy, thoughtless. Choking.\\nt To struggle quick.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "203 WILD FLOWERS.\\nFor, when we laugh d, it laugh d again,\\nAnd to our own doors follow d\\nYo, ho we cried Yo, ho so plain,\\nThe misty meadow halloo d.\\nThat s all my tale, and all the fun,\\nCome, turn your wheels about\\nMy worsted see that s nicely done,\\nJust held my story out\\nPoor Judie Thus Time knits or spins\\nThe worsted from Life s ball\\nDeath stopp d thy tales, and stopp d thy pins,\\nAnd so he ll serve us all.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "209\\nTHE BROKEN CRUTCa\\nA TALE.\\nI TJiLL you, Peggy, said a voice behind\\nA hawthorn hedge, with wild briers thick en-\\ntwined,\\nWhere unseen trav llers down a shady way\\nJourney d beside the swathe of new-mown hay\\nI tell you, Peggy, tis a time to prove\\nYour fortitude, your virtue, and your love.\\nFrom honest poverty our lineage sprung,\\nYour mother was a servant quite as young\\nYou weep perhaps she wept at leaving home\\nCourage, my girl, nor fear the days to come.\\nGo still to church, my Peggy, plainly drcss d,\\nA.nd keep a living conscience in your breast\\nLook to yourself, my lass, the maid s best fame\\nBeware, nor bring the Meldrums into shame\\nBe modest, to the voice of truth attend.\\nBe honest, and you ll always find a friend\\nVour uncle Gilbert, stronger far than I,\\nWill see you safe on him you must rely\\n14", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "210 WILD FLOWERS.\\nI ve walk d too far this lameness, oh the pain\\nHeav n bless thee, child I ll halt me back again\\nBut when your first fair holiday may be,\\nDo, dearest Peggy, spend your hours with me.\\nYoung Herbert Brooks, in strength and man-\\nhood bold,\\nWho, round the meads, his own possessions,\\nstroU d,\\nO erheard the charge, and with a heart so gay,\\nWhistled his spaniel, and pursued his way.\\n8oon cross d his path, and short obeisance paid,\\nStout Gilbert Meldrum and a country maid\\nA box upon his shoulder held full well\\nHer worldly riches, but the truth to tell\\n8he bore the chief herself; that nobler part.\\nThat beauteous gem, an uncorrupted heart.\\nAnd then that native loveliness that cheek\\nIt wore the very tints her betters seek.\\nAt such a sight the libertine would glow\\nWith all the warmth that he can never know\\nWould send his thoughts abroad without control.\\nThe glimmering moonshine of his little soul.\\nAbove the reach of justice I shall soar,\\nHer friends may rail, not punish they re too poor\\nThat very thought the rapture will enhance,\\nPoor, young, and friendless; what a glorious\\nchance\\nA few spare guineas may the conquest make,\\nI love the treachery for treachery s sake,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "THE BKOKEN CRUTCH. 211\\nAnd when her wounded honour jealous grows,\\nI ll cut away ten thousand oaths and vows,\\nAnd bravely boast, all snarling fools defying,\\nHow I a girl out-witted, just by lying.\\nSuch was not Herbert he had never known\\nLove s genuine smiles, nor suffer d from his\\nfrowns\\nAnd as to that most honourable part\\nOf planting daggers in a parent s heart,\\nA novice quite he pass d his hours away,\\nFree as a bird, and buxom as the day\\nYet, should a lovely girl by chance arise,\\nThink not that Herbert Brooks would shut his\\neyes.\\nOn thy calm joys with what delight I dream,\\nThou dear green valley of my native stream\\nFancy o er thee still waves th enchanting wand,\\nAnd every nook of thine is fairy land,\\nAnd ever will be, though the axe should smite\\nIn Gain s rude service, and in Pity s spite,\\nThy clustering alders, and at length invade\\nThe last, last poplars, that compose thy shade\\ni hy stream shall still in native freedom stray,\\nAnd undermine the willows in its way\\nThese, nearly worthless, may survive this storm,\\nThis scythe of desolation call d Reform\\nNo army pass d that way yet are they fled,\\ni he boughs that, when a school-boy, screen J my\\nhead.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "212 WILD FLOWERS.\\nI hate the murderous axe estranging more\\nThe winding vale from what it was of yore,\\nThan e en mortality in all its rage,\\nAnd all the change of faces in an age.\\nWarmth, will they term it, that I speak so free 1\\nThey stripp d thy shades, thy shades so dear\\nto me:\\nIn Herbert s days woods clothed both hill and dale\\nBut peace, Remembrance let us tell the tale.\\nHis home was in the valley, elms grew round\\nHis moated mansion, and the pleasant sound\\nOf woodland birds that loud at day-break sing,\\nWith the first cuckoos that proclaim the spring.\\nFlock d round his dwelHng; and his kitchen smoke,\\nThat from the towering rookery upward broke,\\nOf joyful import to the poor hard by,\\nStream d a glad sign of hospitality\\nSo fancy pictures but its day is o er.\\nThe moat remains the dwelling is no more\\nIts name denotes its melancholy fall,\\nFor village children call the spot Burnt Hall.\\nBut where s the maid, who in the meadow-way.\\nMet Herbert Brooks among the new-mown hay I\\nTh adventure charm d him, and next morning\\nrose\\nThe Sabbath, with its silence and repose\\nThe bell ceased chiming, and the broad blue sky\\nSmiled on his peace, and met his tranquil eye", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "THE BROKEN CRUTCH. 213\\nInverted, from the foot-bridge on his way\\nTo that still house where all his fathers lay\\nThere in his seat, each neighbour s face he knew\\nThe stranger girl was just before his pew\\nHe saw her kneel, with meek but cheerful air,\\nAnd whisper the response to every prayer\\nAnd when the humble roof with praises rung,\\nHe caught the Hallelujah from her tongue,\\nliememb ring with delight the tears that fell\\nWhen the poor father bade his child farewell\\nAnd now, by kindling tenderness beguiled.\\nHe bless d the prompt obedience of that child,\\nAnd link d his fate with hers for, from that day,\\nWhether the weeks pass d cheerily away,\\nOr deep revolving doubts procured him pain,\\nThe same bells chimed and there she was again\\nWhat could be done] they came not there to\\nwoo\\nOn holy ground, though love is holy too.\\nThey met upon the foot-bridge one clear morn,\\nShe in the garb by village lasses worn\\nHe with unbutton d frock that careless flew.\\nAnd buskin to resist the morning dew\\nWith downcast looks she curtsied to the ground,\\nJust in his path no room to sidle round.\\nWell, pretty girl, this early rising yields\\nThe best enjoyment of the groves and fields,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "il4 WILD FLOWERS.\\nAnd makes the heart susceptible and meek,\\nAnd keeps alive that rose upon your cheek.\\nI long d to meet you, Peggy, though so shy,\\nI ve watch d your steps, and learn d your history.\\nYou love your poor lame father, let that be\\nA happy presage of your love for me.\\nCome then, I ll stroll these meadows by your side,\\nI ve seen enough to wish you for my bride,\\nj\\\\nd I must tell you so. Nay, let me hold\\nThis guiltless hand, I prize it more than gold\\nOf that I have my share, but fain would prove\\nThe sterling wealth of honourable love\\nMy lands are fruitful, and my flocks increase\\nMy house knows plenty, and my servants peace\\nOne blessing more will crown my happy life,\\nLike Adam, pretty girl, I want a wife.\\nNeed it be told his suit was not denied,\\nWith youth, and wealth, and candour on his\\nsidel\\nHonour took charge of love so well begun.\\nAnd accidental meetings, one by one,\\nIncreased so fast midst time s unheeded flight,\\nThat village rumour married them outright\\nThough wiser matrons, doubtful in debate,\\nPitied deluded Peggy s hapless fate.\\nFriends took Ih alarm, And will he then disgrace\\nThe name of Brooks with this plebeian race!\\nOthers, more lax in virtue, not in pride,\\nSported the wink of cunning on one side", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "THE broke:^ crutch. 215\\nHe ll buy, no doubt, what Peggy has to sell,\\na\\\\. Utile gallantry becomes him well.\\nMeanwhile the youth, with self-determined aim,\\nDisdaining fraud, and pride s unfeeling claim,\\nAbove control, pursued his generous way,\\nAnd talked to Peggy of the marriage-day.\\nPoor girl she heard, with anguish and with doubt.\\nWhat her too-knowing neighbours preach d about,\\nJ hat Herbert would some nobler match prefer.\\nAnd surely never, never marry her\\nYet, with what trembling and delight she bore\\nThe kiss, and heard tlie vow. I ll doubt no more\\nProtect me, Herbert, for youi^onour s sake,\\nYou will, she cried, i ot leave my heart to\\nbreak.\\nThen wrote to uncle Gilbert, joys, and fears.\\nAnd hope, and trust, and sprinkled all with tears.\\nRoused was the dormant spirit of the brave,\\nE en lameness rose to succour and to save\\nFor. tho they both revered young Herbert s name,\\nAnd knevsr his unexceptionable fame\\nAnd though the girl had honestly declared\\nLove s first approaches, and their counsel shared\\nYet, that he truly meant to take for life\\nThe poor and lowly Peggy for a wife.\\nOr that she was not doomed to be deceived,\\nWas out of bounds it could not be believed.\\nGK), Gilbert, save her I, you know, am lame\\nGo, brother, go, and save my child from shame.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "216 WILD FLOWERS.\\nHaste, and I ll pray for your success the while\\nGo, go then bang d his crutch upon the stile\\nIt snapp d. E en Gilbert trembled while he smote,\\nThen whipp d the broken end beneath his coat\\nAy, ay, I ll settle them I ll let them see\\nWho s to be conqu ror this time, I or he\\nThen off he set, and with enormous strides,\\nRebellious mutterings, and oaths besides,\\nO er clover-field and fallow, bank and brier.\\nPursued the nearest cuts, and fann d the fire\\nThat burnt within him. So soon the Hall he spied,\\nAnd the gray willows by the water side\\nJVature cried, Halt! nor could he well refuse;\\nStop, Gilbert, breathe awhile, and hear the news.\\niVews! cried a stooping grandame of the vale,\\nAy, rare news too; I ll tell you such a tale;\\nBut let me rest this bank is dry and warm\\nDo you know Peggy Meldrum at the farm\\nYoung Herbert s girl 1 He s clothed her all in\\nwhite.\\nYou never saw so beautiful a sight!\\nAh, he s a fine young man, and such a face\\nI knew his grandfather and all his race;\\nHe rode a tall white horse and look so big,\\nBut how shall I describe his hat and wig\\nPlague take his wig, cried Gilbert, and his hat\\nWhere s Peggy Meldrum 1 can you tell me that]\\nAy, but have patience, man you ll hear anon,\\nFor I shall come to her as I go on.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "THE BnOKEN CRUTCH, 217\\nSo hark ye, friend his grandfather, I say,\\nPoh, poh, cried Gilbert, as he turn d away.\\nHer eyes were fix d, her story at a stand,\\nThe snuff-box lay half-open d in her hand\\nYou great, ill-manner d clown but I must\\nbear it\\nYou oaf! to ask the news, and then won t hear\\nit!\\nBut Gilbert had gain d forty paces clear\\nWhen the reproof came murmuring on his ear.\\nAgain he asked the first that passed him by\\nA cow-boy stopp d his whistle to reply.\\nWhy, I ve a mistress coming home, that s all\\nThey re playing Meg s diversion at the Hall\\nFor master s gone, with Peggy, and his cousin,\\nAnd all the lady -folks, about a dozen,\\nTo church, down there; he ll marry one, no\\ndoubt.\\nFor that, it seems, is what they re gone about\\nI know it by their laughing and their jokes,\\nThough they worn t ask d at church like other\\nfolks.\\nGilbert kept on, and at the Hall-door found\\nThe winking servants, where the jest went round,\\nAll expectation ay, and so was he,\\nBut not with heart so merry and so free\\nThe kitchen table never clear from beef,\\nWhere hunger found its solace and relief,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "213 WILD FLOWEKS.\\nFree to ail strangers, had uo charms for him,\\nFor agitation worried every hmb\\nAle he partook, but appetite had none,\\nAnd gray-hounds watch d in vain to catch the\\nbone.\\nAll sounds alarm d him, and all thoughts perplex d.\\nWith dogs, and beef, himself, and all things vex d.\\nTill with one mingled caw above his head,\\nTheir gliding shadows o er the court-yard spread,\\nThe rooks by thousands rose the bells struck up\\nHe guess d the cause, and down he set the cup,\\nAnd listening, heard, amidst the general hum,\\nA joyful exclamation, Here they come\\nSoon Herbert s cheerful voice was heard above,\\nAmidst the rustling hand-maids of his love,\\nAnd Gilbert follow d without thought or dread.\\nThe broad oak stair-case thunder d with his tread\\nLight tripp d the party, gay as gay could be,\\nAmidst their bridal dresses there came he\\nAnd with a look that guilt could ne er withstand,\\nApproach d his niece, and caught her by the hand\\nNow are you married, Peggy, yes or no 1\\nTell me at once, before I let you go\\nAbrupt he spoke, and gave her arm a swing.\\nBut the same moment felt the wedding ring.\\nAnd stood confused. She wiped th impassion d\\ntear,\\nI am, I am but is my father here 1\\nHerbert stood by, and sharing with his bride\\nThat perturbation which she strove to hide", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "THE BROKEN CRUTCH. 219\\nCome, honest Gilbert, you re too rough this time,\\nIndeed here s not the shadow of a crime\\nBut Where s your brother when did you arrive?\\nWe waited long, for Nathan went at live\\nAll this was Greek to Gilbert, downright Greek\\nHe knew not what to think, or how to speak.\\nThe case was this that JVathan with a cart\\nTo fetch them both at day-break was to start,\\nAnd so he did but ere he could proceed.\\nHe suck d a charming portion with a reed,\\nOf that same wedding-ale, which was that day\\nTo make the hearts of all the village gay\\nBrim full of glee he trundled from the Hall,\\nAnd as for sky-larks, he out-sung them all\\nTill growing giddy with his morning cup,\\nHe, stretch d beneath a hedge, the reins gave up\\nThe horse grazed soberly without mishap,\\nAnd Nathan had a most delightful nap\\nFor three good hours. Then, doubting, when he\\nwoke.\\nWhether his conduct would be deem d a joke.\\nWith double haste performed just half his part.\\nAnd brought the lame John Meldrum in his cart\\nAnd at that moment Gilbert s wrath was high.\\nAnd while young Herbert waited his reply.\\nThe sound of rattling wheels was at the door\\nThere s my dear father now, they heard no\\nmore;", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "220 WILD FLOWERS,\\nThe bridegroom glided like an arrow down,\\nAnd Gilbert ran, though something of a clown,\\nWith his best step and cheered with smiles and\\npray rs.\\nThey bore old John in triumph up the stairs\\nPoor Peggy, who her joy no more could check,\\nClung like a dewy woodbine round his neck.\\nAnd all stood silent. Gilbert, off his guard,\\nAnd marvelling at virtue s rich reward,\\nJjoosed the one loop that held his coat before\\nDown thump d the broken crutch upon the floor\\nThey started, half alarm d, scarce knowing why.\\nBut through the glist ning rapture of his eye\\nThe bridegroom smiled, then chid their simple\\nfears.\\nAnd roused the blushing Peggy from her tears\\nAround the uncle in a ring they came.\\nAnd mark d his look of mingled pride and shame.\\nNow honestly, good Gilbert, tell us true,\\nWhat meant this cud.gel 1 What was it to do\\nI know your heart suspected me of wrong,\\nAnd that most true afiectionv urged along\\nYour feelings and your wrath you were, beside.\\nTill now the rightful guardian of the bride.\\nBut why this cudgel] Guardian! that s the\\ncase,\\nOr else to-day I had not seen this place\\nBut John about the girl was so perplex d,\\nAnd I, to tell the truth, so mortal vex d,", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "THE BROKEN CRUTCH. 221\\nThat when he broke this crutch, and stampt, and\\ncried,\\nFor John and Peggy, sir, I could have died\\nAy, that I could for she was such a child,\\nSo tractable, so sensible, so mild,\\nThat if between you roguery had grown,\\n(Begging your pardon,) twould have been your\\nown\\nShe would not hurt a fly. So off I came,\\nAnd had I found you injuring her fame.\\nAnd base enough so act as hundreds would.\\nTo ruin a poor maid because you could,\\nWith this same cudgel, (you may smile or frown,)\\nAn please you, sir, I meant to knock you down.\\nA burst of laughter rang throughout the Hall,\\nAnd Peggy s tongue, though overborne by all,\\nPour d its warm blessings for without control\\nThe sweet unbridled transport of her soul\\nWas obviously seen, till Herbert s kiss\\nStole, as it were, the eloquence of bliss.\\nWelcome, my friends good Gilbert, here s my\\nhand\\nEat, drink, or rest, they re all at your command\\nAnd whatsoever pranks the rest may play.\\nYou still shall be the hero of the day.\\nDoubts might torment, and blunders may have\\nteased.\\nLet my ale cure them let us all be pleased.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "222 WILD FLOWERS.\\nAnd as for honest John, let me defend\\nThe father of my new, my bosom friend\\nYou broke your crutch well, well, worse luck\\nmight be\\nI ll be your crutch, John Meldrum, lean on me\\nAnd when your lovely daughter shall complain.\\nSend Gilbert s wooden argument again.\\nYou still may wonder that I take a wife\\nFrom the secluded walks of humble life.\\nOn reason s solid ground my love began,\\nAnd let the wise confute it if they can.\\nA girl I saw, with nature s untaught grace,\\nTurn from my gaze a most engaging face\\nI saw her drop the tear I knew full well\\nShe felt for you much more than she could tell.\\nI found her understanding, bright as day,\\nThrough all impediments still forced its way\\nOn that foundation shall my hopes rely,\\nThe rock of genuine humility.\\nCall d as she is to act a nobler part.\\nTo rule my household, and to share my heart,\\nI trust her prudence, confident to prove\\nDays of delight, and still unfading love;\\nAnd, while her inborn tenderness survives.\\nThat heav nly charm of mothers and of wives,\\nI ll look for joy But see, the neighbours all\\nCome posting on to share the festival\\nAnd I m determined, while the sun s so bright,\\nThat this shall be the wedding-day outright:", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "THE BROKEN CRUTCH. 223\\nHow cheerly sound the bells my charmer, come,\\nPartake their joy, atid know yourself at home.\\nSit down, good John I will, the old man\\ncried,\\nAnd let me drink to you, sir, and the bride\\njVIy blessing ou you I am lame and old,\\nI can t make speeches, and I won t be bold\\nBut from my soul I wish and wish again.\\nThat brave good gentlemen would not disdain\\nThe poor, because they re poor for if they live\\nMidst crimes that parents never can forgive.\\nIf like the forest beast they wander wild,\\nTo rob a father, or to crush a child,\\nNature will speak ay, just as Nature feels\\nAnd wish a Gilbert Meldrum at their heels.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "224\\nSHOOTER S HILL.*\\nHkalth I seek thee dost thou love\\nThe mountain-top, or quiet vale\\nOr deign o er humbler hills to rove\\nOn showery June s dark south-west gale 1\\nIf so, I ll meet all blasts that blow,\\nWith silent step, but not forlorn\\nThough, goddess, at thy shrine I bow.\\nAnd woo thee each returning mora\\nI seek thee where, with all his might\\nThe joyous bird his rapture tells.\\nAmidst the half-excluded light\\nThat gilds the fox-glove s pendant bells\\nWhere cheerly up the bold hill s side\\nThe deep ning groves triumphant climb\\nIn groves Delight and Peace abide,\\nAnd Wisdom marks the lapse of time.\\nSickness may be often an incentive to poetirnl\\ncomposition\u00e2\u0080\u0094 I found it so and I esteem the fono .v-\\ninu lines only because they remind me of past feelinuc*\\n\\\\v hicti I would not willingly forget.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "SHOOTER S HILL. 225\\nTo hide me from the public eye,\\nTo keep the throne of Reason clear,\\nAmidst fresh air to breathe or die,\\nI took my staff and wander d here\\nSuppressing every sight that heaves,\\nAnd coveting no wealth but thee,\\nI nestle in the honeyed leaves,\\nAnd hug my stolen liberty.\\nO er eastward uplands, gay or rude,\\nAlong to Erith s ivied spire,\\nI start, with strength and hope renew d,\\nAnd cherish life s rekindling fire\\nNow measure vales with straining eyes,\\nNow trace the church-yard s humble names,\\nOr climb brown heaths, abrupt that rise,\\nAnd overlook the winding Thames.\\nI love to mark the flow ret s eye,\\nTo rest where pebbles form my bed,\\nWhere shapes and colours scatter d lie.\\nIn varying millions round my head.\\nThe soul rejoices when alone.\\nAnd feels her glorious empire free\\nSees God in every shining stone,\\nAnd revels in variety.\\nAh, me perhaps within my sight.\\nDeep in the smiling dales below,\\nGigantic talents, Heaven s pure light,\\nAnd all the rays of genius glow,\\n15", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "?26 WILD FLOWEr.S.\\nIn some lone soul, whom no one sees,\\nWith power and will to say, Arise,\\nOr chase away the slow disease,\\nAnd Want s foul picture from his eyes.\\nA worthier man by far than I,\\nWith more of industry and fire.\\nShall see fair Virtue s meed pass by,\\nWithout one spark of fame expire!\\nBleed not, my heart it will be so,\\nThe throb of care was thine full long.\\nRise, like the Psalmist from his woe,\\nAnd pour abroad the joyful song.\\nSweet Health, I seek thee hither bring\\nThy balm that softens human ills;\\nCome on the long-drawn clouds that fling\\nTheir shadows o er the Surrey Hills\\nYon green-topp d hills, and far away,\\nWhere late as now I freedom stole,\\nAnd spent one dear delicious day\\nOn thy wild banks, romantic Mole.\\nAy, there s the scene beyond the sweep\\nOf London s congregated cloud\\nThe dark-brow d wood, the headlong steep,\\nAnd valley-paths without a crowd\\nPox-Hill, and the beautiful neighbourhood of Dor-\\nking, in Surrey.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "shooter s kill. 227\\nHere, Thames, I watch thy flowing tides,\\nThy thousand sails am proud to see\\nBut where the Mole all silent glides\\nDwells Peace and Peace is wealth to me.\\nOf Cambrian mountains still I dream,\\nAnd mouldering vestiges of war;\\nBy time-worn cliff or classic stream\\nWould rove, but Prudence holds a bar.\\nCome then, O Health I ll strive to bound\\nMy wishes to this airy stand\\nTis not for me to trace around\\nThe wonders of my native land.\\nYet the loud torrent s dark retreat,\\nYet Grampian hills shall Fancy give,\\nAnd, towering in her giddy seat,\\nAmidst her own creation live,\\nLive, if thou lt urge my climbing feet,\\nGive strength of nerve and vigorous breath\\nIf not, with dauntless soul I ll meet\\nThe deep solemnity of death.\\nThis far-seen monumental tower\\nRecords th achievements of the brave,\\nAnd Angria s subjugated power.\\nWho plunder d on the eastern wave\\nI would not that such turrets rise\\nTo point out where my bones are laid,\\nSave that some wandering bard might prize\\nThe comforts of its broad cool shade.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "228 WILD FLOWERS.\\nO Vanity since thou rt decreed\\nCompanion of our lives to be,\\nI ll seek the moral songster s meed\\nAn earthly immortality.\\nMost vain let me from the past,\\nRememb ring what to rnan is given.\\nLay Virtue s broad foundations fast,\\nWhose glorious turrets reach to Heav n*\\nV", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "229\\nMARY S EVENING SIGH.\\nHow bright with pearl the western sky\\nHow glorious, far and wide.\\nYon lines of golden clouds that lie\\nSo peaceful side by side\\nTheir deep ning tints, the arch of light,\\nAll eyes with rapture see\\nE en while I sigh, I bless the sight\\nThat lures my love from thee.\\nGreen hill, that shad st the valley here,\\nThou bear st upon thy brow\\nThe only wreath to Mary dear,\\nAnd all she ll ever know.\\nThere, in the crimson light I see,\\nAbove the summit rise.\\nMy Edward s form he looks to me\\nA statue in the skies.\\nDescend, my love, the hour is come,\\nWhy linger on the hill?\\nThe sun hath left my quiet home,\\nBut thou canst see him still", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "230 WILD FLOWERS.\\nYet wily a lonely wanderer stray,\\nAlone the joy pursue\\nThe glories of the closing day\\nCan charm thy Mary too.\\nDear Edward, when we stroH d along\\nBeneath the waving corn.\\nAnd both confessed the power of song.\\nAnd blessed the dewy morn,\\nYour eye o erflow d, How sweet, you cried,\\n(My presence then could move,)\\nHow sweet, with Mary by my side.\\nTo gaze and talk of love\\nThou art not false that cannot be\\nYet I my rivals deem\\nEach woodland charm, the moss, the tree.\\nThe silence, and the stream\\nWhate er, my love, detains thee now,\\nI ll yet forgive thy stay\\nBut with to-morrow s dawn come thou,\\nWe ll brush the dews away.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "231\\nBARNHAM WATER\\nFresh from the Hall of Bounty sprung*\\nWith glowing heat and ardent eye,\\n.With song and rhyme upon my tongue,\\nAnd fairy visions dancing by,\\nThe mid-day sun in all his pow r,\\nThe backward valley painted gay,\\nMine was a road without a flower.\\nWhere one small streamlet cross d the way.\\nWhat was it roused my soul to love 1\\nWhat made the simple brook so dear 1\\nIt glided like the weary dove,\\nAnd never brook seem d half so dear 1\\nCool pass d the current o er my feet.\\nIts shelving brink for rest was made,\\nBut every charm was incomplete.\\nFor Barnham Water wants a shade.\\nOn a sultry afternoon, late in the summer of 1802,\\nEuston Hall lay in my way to Thetlbrd, which place I\\ndid not reach until the evening, on a visit to my sister\\nthe lines lose mach of ih\u00c2\u00ab!ir interest unless they could\\nbe read on the spot, or at least a corresponding season\\nof the vear.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "232 WILD FLOWERS.\\nThere, faint beneath the fervid sun,\\nI gazed in ruminating mood\\nFor who can see the current run\\nAnd snatch no feast of mental food 1\\nKeep pure thy soul, it seem d to say,\\nKeep that fair path by wisdom trod,\\nThat thou may st hope to wind thy way,\\nTo fame worth boasting, and to God.\\nLong and delightful was the dream,\\nA waking dream that fancy yields,\\nTill with regret I left the stream,\\nAnd plunged across the barren fields\\nTo where of old rich abbeys smiled\\nIn all the pomp of gothic taste,\\nBy fond tradition proudly styled\\nThe mighty City in the East.\\nNear, on a slope of burning sand.\\nThe shepherd hoys had met to play,\\nTo hold the plain at their command.\\nAnd mark the trav ller s leafless way.\\nThe trav ller with a cheerful look\\nWould every pining thought forbear,\\nIf boughs but shelter d Barnham Brook,\\nHe d stop and leave his blessing there.\\nThe Danish mounds of partial green.\\nStill, as each mouldering tower decays,\\nFar o er the bleak unwooded scene\\nProclaim their wond rous length of days.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "EAr.VHA.M WATER. 233\\nMy burning feet, my aching sight,\\nDemanded rest, why did I weep?\\nThe moon arose, and such a night\\nGood Heav n it was a sin to sleep.\\nAll rushing came thy hallow d sighs.\\nSweet Melancholy, from my breast;\\nTis here that eastern greatness lies,\\nThat Might, Renown, and Wisdom rest.\\nHere funeral rites the priesthood gave\\nTo chiefs who sway d prodigious powers\\nThe Bigods and the Mowbrays brave\\nFrom Framlingham s imperial towers.\\nFull of the mighty deeds of yore,\\nI bade good night the trembling beam;\\nFancy e en heard the battle s roar,\\nOf what but slaughter could I dream?\\niJless d be that night, that trembling beam,\\nPeaceful excursions Fancy made;\\nAll night I heard the bubbling stream,\\nYet 13 am ham Water wants a shade.\\nWhatever hurts my country s fame,\\nWhen wits and mountaineers deride,\\nTo me grows serious, for I name\\nMy native plains and streams with pride.\\nNo mountain charms have I to sing,\\nNo loftier minstrel s rights invade;\\nFrom trifles oft my raptures spring;\\nSweet liarnham Water wants a shade.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "234\\nTHE WOODLAND HALLOO.\\n(PERHAPS) ADAPTED FOR MUSIC.\\nIts our cottage, that peeps from the skirts of the\\nwood,\\nI am mistress, no mother have I\\nYet bhthe are my days, for my father is good,\\nAnd kind is my lover, hard by\\nThey both work together beneath the green shade,\\nBoth woodmen, my father and Joe\\nWhere I ve hsten d whole hours to the echo that\\nmade\\nSo much of a laugh or Halloo.\\nFrom my basket at noon they expect their supply,\\nAnd with joy from my threshold I spring\\nFor the woodlands I love, and the oaks waving\\nhigh.\\nAnd Echo that sings as I sing.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "Tin: WOODLAND HALLOO. 233\\nThough deep shades dehght me, yet love is my\\nfood,\\nAs I call the dear name of my Joe\\nHis musical shout is the pride of the wood,\\nAnd my heart leaps to hear the Halloo.\\nSimple flowers of the grove, little birds, live at ease,\\nI wish not to wander from you\\nI ll still dwell beneath the deep roar of your trees.\\nFor I know that my Joe will be true.\\nThe thrill of the robin, the coo of the dove,\\nAre charms that I ll never forego\\nBut resting through Ufe on the bosom of love,\\nWill remember the Woodland Halloo.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "236\\nON REVISITING THE PLACE OF MY\\nNATIVITY.\\nThough winter s frowns had damp d the beaming\\neye,\\nThrough twelve successive summers heaved the\\nsigh,\\nThe unaccomplish d wish was still the same;\\nTill May in new and sudden glories came\\nMy heart was roused and fancy on the wing,\\nThus heard the language of enchanting Spring\\nCome to thy native groves and fruitful fields\\nThou know st the fragrance that the wild flow r\\nyields\\nInhale the breeze that bends the purple bud,\\nAnd plays along the margin of the wood.\\nI ve cloth d them all the very woods where thou\\nIn fancy learned st praise from every bough.\\nWould st thou behold again the vernal day 1\\nMy reign is short; this instant come away\\nEre Philomel shall silent meet the morn\\nShe hails the green, but not the rip ning corn.", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "THE PLACE OF MY .\\\\ATIVITY. L J\\nCome, ere the pastures lose their yellow flow rs;\\nCome now, with heart as jocund as the hours.\\nWho could resist the call that, Giles had done,\\nNor heard the birds, nor seen the rising Sun\\nHad not benevolence, with cheering ray,\\nAnd greatness stoop d, indulgent to display\\nPraise which does not sure to Giles belong.\\nBut to the objects that inspired his song.\\nImmediate pleasure from those praises flow d\\nRemoter bliss within his bosom glow d\\nNow tasted all for I have heard and seen\\nThe long remember d voice, the church, the green\\nAnd oft by friendship s gentle hand been led\\nWhere many an hospitable board was spread.\\nThese would I name but each, and all can feel\\nWhat the full heart would willingly reveal\\nNor needs be told that at each season s birth.\\nStill the enamell d, or the scorching earth\\nGave, as each morn or weary night would come.\\nIdeal sweetness to my distant home\\nIdeal now no more for, to ray view\\nSpring s promise rose, how admirably true\\nThe early chorus of the cheerful grove,\\nGave point to gratitude and fire to love.\\nO memory shield me from the world s poor strife\\nAnd give those scenes thine everlasting life", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "003 590 969 2", "height": "1955", "width": "1214", "jp2-path": "farmersboyotherp00bloo_0254.jp2"}}