Till Giles with ponderous beetle foremost go, And scattering splinters fly at every blow; When pressing round him, eager for the prize, From their mixt breath warm exhalations rise.

FREEZING AND THAWING UPON THE TREES.

If now in beaded rows drops deck the spray, While Phoebus grants a momentary ray, Let but a cloud's broad shadow intervene, And stiffened into gems the drops are seen; And down the furrowed oak's broad southern side Streams of dissolving rime no longer glide.

THRESHING; FODDERING COWS AND SWINE IN THE YARD.
Though night approaching bids for rest prepare,
Still the flail echoes through the frosty air,
Nor stops till deepest shades of darkness come,
Sending at length the weary laborer home.
From him, with bed and nightly food supplied,
Throughout the yard, housed round on every side,
Deep-plunging cows their rustling feast enjoy,
And snatch sweet mouthfuls from the passing boy,
Who moves unseen beneath his trailing load,
Fills the tall racks, and leaves a scattered road;
Where oft the swine from ambush warm and dry
Bolt out, and scamper headlong to their sty,
When Giles, with well-known voice, already there,
Deigns them a portion of his evening care.

THE FARMER'S FIRE; GILES BRINGING IN WOOD; THE FIRE-
PLACE, CHIMNEY, LOFT; RUDE PLENTY OF THE KITCHEN.
Him tho' the cold may pierce, and storms molest,
Succeeding hours shall cheer with warmth and rest:
Gladness to spread, and raise the grateful smile,
He hurls the fagot bursting from the pile,
And many a log, and rifted trunk, conveys
To heap the fire, and to extend the blaze,
That quivering strong through every opening flies,
While smoky columns unobstructed rise.
For the rude architect, unknown to fame
(Nor symmetry nor elegance his aim),
Who spreads his floors of solid oak on high,
On beams rough-hewn, from age to age that lie,
Bade his wide fabric unimpaired sustain
Pomona's store, and cheese, and golden grain;
Bade from its central base, capacious laid,
The well-wrought chimney rear its lofty head;
Where since hath many a savory ham been stored,
And tempests howled, and Christmas gambols roared.

CHARGES TO GILES BY HIS MASTER; DUTIES OF THE WINTER NIGHT; PROTECTION OF SHEEP, POULTRY, LITTERING DOWN.

'Left ye your bleating charge, when daylight fled,
Near where the hay-stack lifts its snowy head?
Whose fence of bushy furze, so close and warm,
May stop the slanting bullets of the storm.
For, hark! it blows; a dark and dismal night!
Heaven guide the traveller's fearful steps aright!
Now from the woods, mistrustful and sharp-eyed,
The fox in silent darkness seems to glide,
Stealing around us, listening as he goes,
If chance the cock or stammering cockerel crows,
Or goose, or nodding duck, should darkling cry,
As if apprised of lurking danger nigh:
Destruction waits them, Giles, if e'er you fail
To bolt their doors against the driving gale.
Strewed you (still mindful of the unsheltered head)
Burdens of straw-the cattle's welcome bed?
Thine heart should feel, what thou may'st hourly see,
That duty's basis is humanity:

Of pain's unsavory cup though thou may'st taste
(The wrath of Winter from the bleak north-east),
Thine utmost sufferings in the coldest day
A period terminates, and joys repay.'

THE FARMER-BOY'S LIFE COMPARED WITH THE SAILOR-BOY'S. -NIGHT ON THE WINTER SEA. THE SEA-BOY'S HARDSHIPS.

'Perhaps e'en now, while here those joys we boast,

Full many a bark rides down the neighboring coast,
Where the high northern waves tremendous roar,
Drove down by blasts from Norway's icy shore.
The sea-boy there, less fortunate than thou,
Feels all thy pains in all the gusts that blow;
His freezing hands now drenched, now dry, by turns;
Now lost, now seen, the distant light that burns
On some tall cliff upraised, a flaming guide,
That throws its friendly radiance o'er the tide.
His labors cease not with declining day,
But toils and perils mark his watery way;
And whilst in peaceful dreams secure we lie,
The ruthless whirlwinds rage along the sky,
Round his head whistling!—and shalt thou repine,
While this protecting roof still shelters thine?'

THE FARMER'S INSTRUCTIVE CONVERSATION WELL RECEIVED;

DROWSINESS.

Mild, as the vernal shower, his words prevail, And aid the moral precept of his tale : His wondering hearers learn, and ever keep These first ideas of the restless deep; And, as the opening mind a circuit tries, Present felicities in value rise. Increasing pleasures every hour they find, The warmth more precious, and the shelter kind; Warmth that long reigning bids the eyelids close, As through the blood its balmy influence goes, When the cheered heart forgets fatigues and cares, And drowsiness alone dominion bears.

THE DOZING PLOUGHMAN WAKES, AND GOES OUT TO TAKE CARE OF HIS TEAM.-HEALTH.-DOBBIN UNHARNESSED.

Sweet then the ploughman slumbers, hale and When the last topic dies upon his tongue; [young, Sweet then the bliss his transient dreams inspire, Till chillblains wake him, or the snapping fire.

He starts, and, ever thoughtful of his team, Along the glittering snow a feeble gleam Shoots from his lantern, as he yawning goes To add fresh comforts to their night's repose; Diffusing fragrance as their food he moves, And pats the jolly sides of those he loves. Thus full replenished, perfect ease possest, From night till morn alternate food and rest, No rightful cheer withheld, no sleep debarred, Their each day's labor brings its sure reward. Yet when, from plough or lumbering cart set free, They taste a while the sweets of liberty, E'en sober Dobbin lifts his clumsy heels, And kicks, disdainful of the dirty wheels: But soon, his frolic ended, yields again

To trudge the road, and wear the clinking chain.

THE POOR POST-HORSE. HIS MISERABLE HARDSHIPS.

Short-sighted Dobbin ! - thou canst only see The trivial hardships that encompass thee: Thy chains were freedom, and thy toils repose, Could the poor post-horse tell thee all his woes ; Show thee his bleeding shoulders, and unfold The dreadful anguish he endures for gold: Hired at each call of business, lust, or rage, That prompt the traveller on from stage to stage. Still on his strength depends their boasted speed ; For them his limbs grow weak, his bare ribs bleed; And though he groaning quickens at command, Their extra shilling in the rider's hand Becomes his bitter scourge:-'t is he must feel The double efforts of the lash and steel; Till when, up hill, the destined inn he gains, And trembling under complicated pains, Prone from his nostrils, darting on the ground, His breath emitted, floats in clouds around; Drops chase each other down his chest and sides, And spattered mud his native color hides; Through his swoln veins the boiling current flows, And every nerve a separate torture knows. His harness loosed, he welcomes eager-eyed The pail's full draught that quivers by his side; And joys to see the well-known stable-door, As the starved mariner the friendly shore.

CRUEL LABOR OF THE POST-HORSE, WITH INSUFFICIENT best.

Ah, well for him, if here his sufferings ceased, And ample hours of rest his pains appeased! But, roused again, and sternly bade to rise, And shake refreshing slumber from his eyes, Ere his exhausted spirits can return, Or through his frame reviving ardor burn, Come forth he must, tho' limping, maimed, and sore; He hears the whip; the chaise is at the door; The collar tightens, and again he feels

His half-healed wounds inflamed; again the wheels
With tiresome sameness in his ears resound,
O'er blinding dust, or miles of flinty ground.
Thus nightly robbed, and injured day by day,
His piecemeal murderers wear his life away.

PATIENCE;

EULOGY OF DOBBIN, HIs LIFE AND DEATH;
CHILDHOOD'S MEMORIES.

What say'st thou, Dobbin? what tho' hounds await
With open jaws the moment of thy fate?
No better fate attends his public race;
His life is misery, and his end disgrace!
Then freely bear thy burden to the mill :
Obey but one short law, thy driver's will.
Affection, to thy mem'ry ever true,

Shall boast of mighty loads that Dobbin drew,
And back to childhood shall the mind, with pride,
Recount thy gentleness in many a ride

To pond, or field, or village fair, when thou
Held'st high thy braided mane and comely brow;
And oft the tale shall rise to homely fame
Upon thy generous spirit and thy name.

THE FAITHFUL MASTIFF; TURNED SHEEP-DOG; HIS MUR-
DEROUS NIGHT WORK.

Though faithful to a proverb, we regard
The midnight chieftain of the farmer's yard,
Beneath whose guardianship all hearts rejoice,
Woke by the echo of his hollow voice;
Yet as the hound may faltering quit the pack,
Snuff the foul scent, and hasten yelping back;
And e'en the docile pointer know disgrace,
Thwarting the general instinct of his race;
E'en so the mastiff, or the meaner cur,
At times, will from the path of duty err
(A pattern of fidelity by day;

By night a murderer, lurking for his prey),
And round the pastures or the fold will creep,
And, coward-like, attack the peaceful sheep;
Alone the wanton mischief he pursues,
Alone in reeking blood his jaws imbrues;
Chasing amain his frightened victims round,
Till death in wild confusion strews the ground;
Then, wearied out, to kennel sneaks away,
And licks his guilty paws till break of day.

The dead discovered, and the news once spread,
Vengeance hangs o'er the unknown culprit's head;
And careful shepherds extra hours bestow
In patient watchings for the common foe;
A foe most dreaded now, when rest and peace
Should wait the season of the flock's increase.

GILES VISITS THE FOLD IN THE NIGHT. CLOUDS FLITTING

ACROSS THE MOON; A MACKEREL SKY.'

In part these nightly terrors to dispel, Giles, ere he sleeps, his little flock must tell. From the fireside with many a shrug he hies, Glad if the full-orbed moon salute his eyes, And through the unbroken stillness of the night Shed on his path her beams of cheering light. With sauntering step he climbs the distant stile, Whilst all around him wears a placid smile;

There views the white-robed clouds in clusters driven,
And all the glorious pageantry of heaven.
Low, on the utmost boundary of the sight,
The rising vapors catch the silver light;
Thence fancy measures, as they parting fly,
Which first will throw its shadow on the eye,
Passing the source of light; and thence away,
Succeeded quick by brighter still than they.
For yet above these wafted clouds are seen,
In a remoter sky, still more serene,
Others, detached in ranges through the air,
Spotless as snow, and countless as they 're fair;
Scattered immensely wide from east to west,
The beauteous semblance of a flock at rest.
These, to the raptured mind, aloud proclaim
Their mighty Shepherd's everlasting name.

MEDITATIONS; DUTY. — THE GHOST. FRIGHT.
Whilst thus the loiterer's utmost stretch of soul
Climbs the still clouds, or passes those that roll,
And loosed imagination soaring goes
High o'er his home, and all his little woes,
Time glides away; neglected duty calls!
At once from plains of light to earth he falls,
And down a narrow lane, well known by day,
With all his speed pursues his sounding way,
In thought still half absorbed, and chilled with cold;
When, lo! an object frightful to behold;
A grisly spectre, clothed in silver-gray,
Around whose feet the waving shadows play,

THE OWL; GILES'S ADJURATION OF THE GHOST. REASON AND MEMORY REASSURE HIM.

Loud the owl halloos o'er his head unseen;
All else is silent, dismally serene :
Some prompt ejaculation, whispered low,
Yet bears him up against the threatening foe;
And thus poor Giles, though half inclined to fly,
Mutters his doubts, and strains his steadfast eye.
'Tis not my crimes thou com'st here to reprove;
No murders stain my soul, no perjured love :
If thou 'rt indeed what here thou seem'st to be,
Thy dreadful mission cannot reach to me.
By parents taught still to mistrust mine eyes,
Still to approach each object of surprise,
Lest fancy's formful visions should deceive
In moonlight paths, or glooms of falling eve,
This then 's the moment when my heart should try
To scan thy motionless deformity;

But, O! the fearful task! yet well I know
An aged ash, with many a spreading bough
(Beneath whose leaves I've found a Summer's bower,
Beneath whose trunk I've weathered many a
Stands singly down this solitary way, [shower),
But far beyond where now my footsteps stay.
"T is true, thus far I've come with heedless haste;
No reckoning kept, no passing objects traced:
And can I, then, have reached that very tree!
Or is its reverend form assumed by thee?'

THE FAMILIAR OLD ASH-TREE RECOGNIZED. -FEARS VANISH BEFORE THE STEADY EYE OF INNOCENCE AND TRUTH.

The happy thought alleviates his pain: He creeps another step, then stops again: Till slowly, as his noiseless feet draw near, Its perfect lineaments at once appear; Its crown of shiv'ring ivy whispering peace, And its white bark that fronts the moon's pale face. Now, whilst his blood mounts upward, now he knows The solid gain that from conviction flows; And strengthened confidence shall hence fulfil (With conscious innocence more valued still) The dreariest task that winter nights can bring, By church-yard dark, or grove, or fairy ring; Still buoying up the timid mind of youth, Till loit'ring reason hoists the scale of truth. With these blest guardians Giles his course pursues, Till, numbering his heavy-sided ewes, Surrounding stillness tranquillize his breast, And shape the dreams that wait his hours of rest.

WINTER'S DEPARTURE COMPARED TO A RETIRING STORM.THE SUN'S MORE CONVEX ARCH. THE PRIMROSE.

As when retreating tempests we behold, Whose skirts at length the azure sky unfold, And, full of murmurings and mingled wrath, Slowly unshroud the smiling face of earth, Bringing the bosom joy: so Winter flies! And see the source of life and light uprise! A heightening arch o'er southern hills he bends; Warm on the cheek the slanting beam descends, And gives the reeking mead a brighter hue, And draws the modest primrose bud to view.

CARE OF GRAVID EWES AND NIGHT-FALLEN LAMBS, IN THE LATTER PART OF WINTER.LAMBKINS AND THEIR BOLD MOTHERS.

Yet frosts succeed, and winds impetuous rush, And hail-storms rattle through the budding bush ; And night-fallen lambs require the shepherd's care, And teeming ewes, that still their burdens bear; Beneath whose sides to-morrow's dawn may see The milk-white strangers bow the trembling knee; At whose first birth the powerful instinct 's seen That fills with champions the daisied green: For ewes that stood aloof with fearful eye, With stamping foot, now men and dogs defy, And, obstinately faithful to their young, Guard their first steps to join the bleating throng.

HOW TO ASSUAGE THE GRIEF OF BEREAVED MOTHERS, AND PROVIDE FOR ORPHANED LAMBKINS.

But casualties and death from damps and cold Will still attend the well-conducted fold: Her tender offspring dead, the dam aloud Calls, and runs wild, amidst the unconscious crowd: And orphaned sucklings raise the piteous cry; No wool to warm them, no defenders nigh. And must her streaming milk then flow in vain? Must unregarded innocence complain? No; -ere this strong solicitude subside, Maternal fondness may be fresh applied,

And the adopted stripling still may find

A parent most assiduously kind.

For this he 's doomed a while disguised to range
(For fraud or force must work the wished-for change),
For this his predecessor's skin he wears,
Till cheated into tenderness and cares,
The unsuspecting dam, contented grown,
Cherish and guard the fondling as her own.

THE WELL-TENDED FLOCK. EMULATION OF SHEPHERDS.

Thus all by turns to fair perfection rise;
Thus twins are parted to increase their size :
Thus instinct yields as interest points the way,
Till the bright flock, augmenting every day,
On sunny hills and vales of springing flowers
With ceaseless clamor greet the vernal hours.

The humbler shepherd here with joy beholds
The approved economy of crowded folds,
And, in his small contracted round of cares,
Adjusts the practice of each hint he hears:
For boys with emulation learn to glow,

And boast their pastures, and their healthful show
Of well-grown lambs, the glory of the Spring,
And field to field in competition bring.

TRIUMPHANT JOY OF GILES AS HE HEARS HIS FLOCK COMMENDED BY PASSERS BY.

E'en Giles, for all his cares and watchings past, And all his contests with the wintry blast, Claims a full share of that sweet praise bestowed By gazing neighbors, when along the road, Or village green, his curly-coated throng Suspends the chorus of the spinner's song; When admiration's unaffected grace

Lisps from the tongue, and beams in every face : Delightful moments! - sunshine, health, and joy, Play round and cheer the elevated boy! THANKSGIVING, PRAISE, AND PRAYER, OF THE FARMER'S BOY,

IN PROSPECT OF A NEW YEAR.

Another Spring!' his heart exulting cries; 'Another year! with promised blessings rise! Eternal Power! from whom these blessings flow, Teach me still more to wonder, more to know: Seed-time and harvest let me see again; Wander the leaf-strewn wood, the frozen plain : Let the first flower, corn-waving field, plain, tree, Here round my home, still lift my soul to Thee; And let me, ever, midst thy bounties, raise

An humble note of thankfulness and praise !'

WHEN Christmas is ended bid feasting adieu,
Go play the good husband thy stock to renew,
Be mindful of rearing, in hope of a gain
Dame profit shall give thee reward for thy pain.
Who both by his calf and his lamb will be known,
May well kill a neat and a sheep of his own;
And he that can rear up a pig in his house,
Hath cheaper his bacon, and sweeter his souse.
Who eateth his veal, pig and lamb, being froth,1
Shall, twice in a week, go to bed without broth:
Unskilful that pass not, but sell away, sell,
Shall never have plenty wherever they dwell.
Be greedy in spending and careless to save,
And shortly be needy, and ready to crave;
Be wilful to kill, and unskilful to store,
And look for no foison, I tell thee before. * *
Leave killing of coney, let doe go to buck,
And vermine thy borough, for fear of ill-luck.
Feed dove (no more killing), old dove-house repair,
Save dove-dung for hop-yard, when house ye make
fair. * *

From Christmas till May be well entered in,

Some cattle wax faint and look poorly and thin; And chiefly when prime grass at first doth appear Then most is the danger of all the whole year.

1 It is still too common to sell and kill animals when too young. Broth was formerly the supper-dish in farmhouses.

Take verjuice and heat it, a pint to a cow,
Bay salt, a handful, to rub tongue ye wot how :
That done with the salt, let her drink off the rest;
This many times raiseth up the feeble beast. **
In ridding of pasture, with turfs that lie by,
Fill every hole up as close as a die:
The labor is little, the profit is gay,
Whatever the loitering laborers say.
The sticks and the stones go gather up clean,
For hurting of scythe or for harming of green.
For fear of Hugh Prowler get home with the rest;
When frost is at hardest then carriage is best.
Young broom, or good pasture, thy ewes do require,
Warm barth, and in safety, their lambs do desire :
Look often well to them, for foxes and dogs,
For pits, and for brambles, for vermin, and hogs.
More dainty the lamb, the more worth to be sold,
The sooner the better, for ewe that is old;
But if ye do mind to have milk of the dame,
Till May do not sever the lamb from the same.
Ewes yearly by twinning rich masters do make;
The lamb of such twinners for breeders go take. * *
Calves likely that come between Christmas and Lent
Take huswife to rear,3 or else after repent. **
The senior weaned, his younger shall teach
Both how to drink water and hay for to reach :
More stroken and made of, when aught it doth ail,
More gentle ye make it, for yoke or the pail. **
1 Juice of crab-apples. 2 Berth; lair, place to lie in.
3 Early calves make the strongest stock, if well attended to.

VIRGIL'S "MELIBUS."

BENEATH a holm, repaired two jolly swains; Their sheep and goats together grazed the plains: Both young Arcadians, both alike inspired

To sing, and answer as the song required.
Daphnis, as umpire, took the middle seat;
And fortune thither led my weary feet.

For while I fenced my myrtles from the cold,
The father of my flock had wandered from the fold.
Of Daphnis I inquired; he, smiling, said,
Dismiss your fear, and pointed where he fed.
And, if no greater cares disturb your mind,
Sit here with us, in covert of the wind.
Your lowing heifers, of their own accord,
At watering time will seek the neighboring ford.
Here wanton Mincius winds along the meads,
And shades his happy banks with bending reeds :
And see from yon old oak, that mates the skies,
How black the clouds of swarming bees arise.
What should I do! nor was Alcippe nigh,
Nor absent Phyllis could my care supply;
To house, and feed by hand my weaning lambs,
And drain the strutting udders of their dams?
Great was the strife betwixt the singing swains:
And I preferred my pleasure to my gains.
Alternate rhyme the ready champions chose ;
These Corydon rehearsed, and Thyrsis those.
CORYDON. Ye Muses, ever fair, and ever young,
Assist my numbers, and inspire my song.
With all my Codrus, O, inspire my breast!
For Codrus, after Phoebus, sings the best.
Or, if my wishes have presumed too high,
And stretched their bounds beyond mortality,
The praise of artful numbers I resign,
And hang my pipe upon the sacred pine.
THYRSIS. Arcadian swains, your youthful poet crown
With ivy wreaths; though surly Codrus frown.
Or if he blast my Muse with envious praise,
Then fence my brows with amulets of bays;
Lest his ill arts, or his malicious tongue,
Should poison, or bewitch, my growing song.
C. These branches of a stag, this tusky boar
(The first essay of arms untried before),
Young Mycon offers, Delia, to thy shrine;
But speed his hunting with thy power divine.
Thy statue then of Parian stone shall stand;
Thy legs in buskins with a purple band.

T. This bowl of milk, these cakes (our country fare),
For thee, Priapus, yearly we prepare,
Because a little garden is thy care.
But if the falling lambs increase my fold,
Thy marble statue shall be turned to gold.

C. Fair Galatea, with thy silver feet,

O, whiter than the swan, and more than Hybla sweet!
Tall as a poplar, taper as the bole,

Come, charm thy shepherd, and restore my soul.
Come, when my lated sheep at night return;
And crown the silent hours, and stop the rosy morn.
T. May I become as abject in thy sight
As sea-weed on the shore, and black as night;
Rough as a bur, deformed like him who chaws
Sardinian herbage to contract his jaws;
Such and so monstrous let thy swain appear,
If one day's absence looks not like a year.
Hence from the field for shame the flock deserves
No better feeding while the shepherd starves.

[keep,

C. Ye mossy springs, inviting easy sleep,
Ye trees, whose leafy shades those mossy fountains
Defend my flock; the summer heats are near,
And blossoms on the swelling vines appear.

T. With heapy fires our cheerful hearth is crowned ;
And firs for torches in the woods abound :
We fear not more the winds and wintry cold,
Than streams the banks, or wolves the bleating fold.
C. Our woods, with juniper and chestnuts crowned,
With falling fruits and berries paint the ground;
And lavish nature laughs, and strews her stores
But if Alexis from our mountains fly, [around.

Even running rivers leave their channels dry.
T. Parched are the plains, and frying is the field,
Nor withering vines their juicy vintage yield.
But if returning Phyllis bless the plain,
The grass revives; the woods are green again;
And Jove descends in showers of kindly rain.

C. The poplar is by great Alcides worn ;
The brows of Phoebus his own bays adorn;
The branching vine the jolly Bacchus loves;
The Cyprian queen delights in myrtle groves.
With hazel Phyllis crowns her flowing hair;
And while she loves that common wreath to wear,
Nor bays, nor myrtle boughs, with hazel shall com-
pare.

T. The towering ash is fairest in the woods;
In gardens pines, and poplars by the floods :
But if my Lycidas will ease my pains,
And often visit our forsaken plains,

To him the towering ash shall yield in woods;
In gardens pines, and poplars by the floods.
MELIBEUS. These rhymes I did to memory com-

mend,

When vanquished Thyrsis did in vain contend; Since when, 't is Corydon among the swains, Young Corydon without a rival reigns.