That feebly bends beside the plashy spring;
She, wretched matron, forced, in age, for bread,
To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread,
To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn,
To seek her nightly shade, and weep till morn ;
She only left of all the harmless train,
The sad historian of the pensive plain.
Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,
And still where many a garden-flower grows wild;
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.'
A man he was, to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year,
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had changed, nor wish'd to change, his place;
Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power
By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain;
The long-remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won.
Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.
Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side;
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.—The original of the charming portrait of a country parson that follows is doubtless the poet s father, Charles. The virtues of his brother Henry were probably also present to his mind, to complete the delineation.
But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies;
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,
The reverend champion stood. At his control,
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last faltering accents whisper'd praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.1
The service past, around the pious man,
With steady zeal each honest rustic ran ;
E'en children follow'd, with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown to share the good man's smile
His ready smile a parent's warmth express'd;
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distress'd:
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.2
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way,
With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray —Prior cites a line in the opening of Dryden's' Britannia Rediviva ""And sent us back to praise who came to pray "—as presenting a resemblance in expression, though not in thought, to the line in the text.
2 Eternal sunshine settles on its head -The range of English poetry presents nothing grander than the simile which closes this noble picture. It was probably suggested, as the Rev Gilbert Wakefield remarks, by the fine lines of Claudian :
Vertex qui spatio ventos hyemque relinquit,
Perpetuum nulla temeratus nube serenum,
Celsior exsurgit pluviis, auditque recentes
Sub pedibus nimbos, et ranca tonitrua calcat, &c.
|