He pass'd his hours in peace. Į
But, while he view'd his wealth increase, { While thus along Life's dusty road,| The beaten track content he trod, |
Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares, | Uncall'd', unheed'ed, unawares、, | Brought on his eightieth year,. |
And now, one night, in musing mood, | As all alone he sate,
The unwelcome messenger of Fate, | Once more before him stood. |
Half kill'd with anger, and surprise, I
"So soon return'd'!" 'old Dodson cries,, | 2" So soon, d'ye call it?" 'Death replies, :| "Surely, my friend, you're but in jest!" | Since I was here before |
'Tis six-and-thirty years', at least,' | And you are now fourscore." |
"So much the worse," 'the clown rejoin'd, | To spare the aged would be kind:] However, see your search be le`gal;| And your authority is 't re'gal?! | Else you are come on a fool's' errand, | With but a secretary's warrant. |
Beside, you promis'd me Three War'nings |
Which I have look'd for nights, and mornings!!
But, for that loss of time, and ease,
I can recover damages." |
"I know," cries Death, "that, at the best', | I seldom am a welcome guest; |
But don't be captious, friend, at least: 1 I little thought you'd still be able
To stump about your farm', and stable; | Your years have run to a great length'; | I wish you joy, though, of your strength!" |
• But in jest; not button jest. Years at least; not years'at-least
"Hold'," says the farmer, "not so fast! | I have been lame these four years past." | "And no great won'der," | Death replies、:| "However, you still keep your eyes'; And sure, to see one's loves, and friends, | For legs, and arms, would make amends." | "Perhaps," says Dodson, "so it might, | But latterly, I've lost my sight..” |
"This is a shocking tale, 't is true, But still there's comfort left for you: | Each strives your sadness to amuse I warrant you hear all the news." |
There's none'," cries he;" and, if there were, | I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear." | "Nay, then," the spectre stern_rejoin'd、, | "These are unjustifiable yearnings; |
If you are Lame', and Deaf', and Blind', You've had your Three sufficient Warnings. So, come along, no more we'll part;" | He said, and touch'd him with his dart. | And now, old Dodson turning pale, | Yields to his fate. so ends my tale. |
THE CHAMELEON; OR, PERTINACITY EXPOSED.
Oft has it been my lot to mark | A proud, conceited, talking spark、, | With eyes that hardly serv'd at most, | To guard their master 'gainst a post; | Yet round the world the blade has been, | To see whatever could be seen: | Returning from his finish'd tour, | Grown ten times perter than before、; | Whatever word you chance to drop, | The travell'd fool your mouth will stop.:!
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow |
I've seen and sure I ought to know."| So, begs you'd pay a due submission, | And acquiesce in his decision.
Two travellers of such a cast, | As o'er Arabia's wilds they pass'd, I And on their way, in friendly chat, | Now talk'd of this', and then of that', I Discours'd a while, 'mongst other matter, | Of the Chameleon's form,
"A stranger animal," cries one, I "Sure never liv'd beneath the sun! | A lizard's body, lean, and long, | A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd- 1 And what a length of tail' behind! | How slow, its pace! | and then, its hue' Who ever saw so fine a blue?" |
"Hold there," | the other quick replies, | ""Tis green'I saw it with these eyes', |
As late with open mouth, it lay, |
And warm'd it in the sunny ray; |
Stretch'd at its ease, the beast I view'd', | And saw it eat the air for food." |
"I've seen it, friend, as well as you', | And must again affirm it blue.. | At leisure, I the beast survey'd', | Extended in the cooling shade." |
""Tis green', 't is green', I can assure ye."! "Green!" 'cries the other in a fury,
Why, do you think I've lost my eyes'?" | ""T were no great loss," the friend replies,, "For, if they always serve you thus', [ You'll find them but of little use."
So high at last the contest rose', | From words they almost came to blows. :| When luckily came by, a third — | To him the question they referr'd; | And begg'd he'd tell them, if he knew', | Whether the thing was green, or blue. I
"Sirs," cries the umpire, "cease your pother; | | The creature's neither one nor t'other. | I caught the animal last night, | And view'd it o'er by candle-light: |
I mark'd it well. 't was black as jet、 You stare | but I have got it yet, | And can produce' it." | "Pray then do; | For I am sure the thing is blue..” |
“And I'll' engage that when you've seen | The reptile, you'll pronounce him green." | "Well then, at once to end the doubt," Replies the man, | "I'll turn him out、: | And, when before your eyes I've set him, | If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." | He said; then full before their sight, | Produc'd the beast, ❘ and lo!—'t was white, !|
Both stared | the man look'd wondrous wise
'My children," | 'the chameleon cries, | (Then first the creature found a tongue) | 2. You all are right, and all are wrong: | When next you talk of what you view,| Think others see as well as you: | Nor wonder if you find that none, Prefers your eye-sight to his own." |
THE INVOCATION.
[Written after the death of a sister-in-law.] (MRS. HEMANS.)
Answer me, burning stars of night! | Where hath the spirit gone, | That, past the reach of human sight, | E'en as a breeze, hath flown,? And the stars answer'd me, | "We roll In light, and power on high;] But, of the never-dying soul', Ask things that cannot die, !" 1 O many-toned, and chainless wind!! Thou art a wanderer free', |
Tell me if thou its place canst find', | Far over mount, and sea.? |
And the wind murmur'd in reply',- | "The blue deep I have cross'd', | And met its barks, and billows high',| But not what thou hast lost!" |
Ye clouds that gorgeously repose | Around the setting sun, |
An'swer! have ye a home for those | Whose earthly race is run'? |
The bright clouds answer'd, "We depart', |
We van'ish from the sky; |
Ask what is deathless in thy heart, | For that which cannot die, !" |
Speak, then, thou voice of God within, !| Thou of the deep low tone! |
Answer me through life's restless din', Where hath the spirit flown? |
And the voice answer'd, "Be thou still.! |
Enough to know is given; |
Clouds, winds, and stars their task fulfil, Thine is to trust in Heav'n!" |
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