TO A YOUNG LADY

Who generously sent me a piece of Gold Coin, but concealed her name, one of my pieces having come into her hands before any of the rest were published.

Dear Miss, what breast so cold as would not feel,
The kindness you so generous have shewn;
And since your name the Lady did conceal,
With grateful heart I thank you, fair unknown.
Believe me, Miss, I’m gratified much more,
That you felt pleasure from my humble lines,
Than to accept this present from your store,
Though ’tis the finest metal of the mines.
I first compos’d them with a heavy heart,
For I was sad, nor small my cause of woe;
Yet time alleviates the keenest smart,
Though nothing can supply my loss below.
Yet Providence to me is ever kind;
The watchful care of Heav’n I daily note;
Soft sympathy in every breast I find,
And many comforts gild my humble lot.
Yes; very much I may be thankful for,
Tho’ lonelier now than once,—I have a home;
Have still ’bove charity a little store,
And hope I shall not want for time to come.
This token of your kindness I receive,
And will preserve with more than Miser’s care,
And though even spent—in memory while I live,
Your generous goodness will be treasur’d there.
Would, my young benefactress, I but knew,
Deign dearest Miss to let me know your name,
For soon a gift I mean to offer you,
Which to accept I will a favour deem.
Meanwhile, dear lady, do not this despise,
In rustic dress my grateful thanks I send;
You have my feelings here without disguise,
And must accept the present I intend.[1]

[1] The present intended is a copy of my verses proposed soon to be published.

On receiving a Descriptive Poem from a young Lady, to whom it was given for me, by the Author.

Thanks Sir, for this new token of good-will,
Which by a kindly hand convey’d has been,
It makes the greatest favour greater still,
When pleasantly conferred like this I ween.
Was it in labyrinths of a town immured,
That thus your thoughts to rural scenes retired,
While youth oft’ errs by dissipation lured,
Your better choice by wisdom was inspired.
For this did many a vacant hour employ,
But pleasant hours its progress to behold;
Soft recollections self-approving joy,
Were yours a theme so lov’d thus to unfold.
And now a finish’d picture meets my view,
Which by the mental eye can be discern’d,
Then with avidity I follow you,
Where pleasure may be found, or knowledge learn’d.
Lead where you please and trust me I will come,
Convinced of this you will not lead me wrong,
Shew each fair prospect round your early home,
Where with enthusiast’s eye you rov’d when young.
Delightful scenery describ’d with skill,
Describ’d with feeling pleases every mind;
Sweet nature ever did, and ever will,
Admirers of her many beauties find.
From yonder lofty eminence with you,
I glance from sea to sea, the picture wide;
But chief one landscape’s charms invite my view,
With uplands, woods, and vales diversified.
Each water’d with its own blue winding stream;
—— dear to many a swain and maid,
And dear to you as an Elysian dream,
Its hills with all the warmth of youth portray’d.
Its poets’ work, its heroes’ deeds explor’d,
With much research its various parts explain’d,
By local notes with information stor’d,
From ancient lore and modern language gain’d.
Thanks, then, for this new token of good-will,
This flow’ry picture of your fav’rite scene;
What so engaged your heart, your time and skill,
To think not thrown away on one so mean:
Nor is it thrown away, for I will con,
As when a little girl, its choicest lines;
And oft’ your goodness by myself alone,
Will mind, when all the past my thought combines.
May nature still for you her charms retain,
And genius crown you with his favours rare;
Philanthropy within your bosom reign,
Religion’s power and heavenly peace be there.
May you, and she your friend, and only love,
Be happy long, and still in goodness grow;
Here blest, hereafter may your bliss improve,
When earth’s dissolv’d, and time shall cease to flow.