Abbildungen der Seite

I am not aware of any particular value being attached to this book, but never having heard of any other copy, conceive my time not thrown away, in a description.

It is dedicated “ to the High and Excellent Princesse, the Lady Elizabeth, her Grace, Daughter to the High and mightie King of Great Brittaine, and Wife to the Illustrious Prince, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, D. L. wisheth all grace and prosperity here, and glory in the world to come.”

Prefixed is

Counsell to my Children.
“My sons,* the readers of this book,

I doe you not intreat
To bear with each misplaced word:
for why? my pain's as great
To write this little booke to you
(the worlde may thinke indeed)
As it will be at any time

you the same to reade.
But this 1 much and oft desire,
that you

would do for me,
To gather honey of each flower,
as doth the lab'rous bee.
She looks not who did place the plant,
nor how the flower did grow;
Whether so stately up aloft,
or neare the ground below.
But where she finds it, there she works,
and gets the wholesome food,
And beares it home, and layes it up,
t doe her country good.

[blocks in formation]

And for to serve herself at need,
when winter doth begin :
When storme and tempest is without,
then she doth find within

A sweet and pleasant wholesome food
an house to keepe her warme;
A place where softly she may rest,
and be kept from all harme:
Except the bee that idle is,
and seekes too soone for rest,
Before she filled hath her house,
whereby her state is blest.

And then as she did rest too soone,
too soone she sorrow knowes:
When storms and tempests are without
then she herself beshrowes;
Shee looketh out, and seeth death
ready her to devoure;
Then doth she wish that she had got
more of the wholesome floure.

For why, within, her store is spent
before the winter's past,
And she by no meanes can endure
the stormy winter's blast.
She looketh out, and seeth death,
and finds no lesse within:
Then too too late for to repent,
you see shee doth begin.
Therefore see you not idle be,
this I would have you know,
Be sure still that the ground be good,
whereon the plant doth grow:
Then gather well, and lose no time,
take heed, aow you dos see,


Lest you be unprovided found,
as was the idle bee.

D. L." Bound up with my copy of the above, but unfortunately imperfect at the beginning, is the Father's Blessing. I do not know the author, but from the similarity of type, &c. I conclude that it forms a part of the other work. There are two or three pieces of poetry, from which I select the following.

" David's account of Man's life, from seventie

yeares to a spanne.
“ Threescore and ten the age and life of man,

In holy David's eyes seem'd but a span;
For halfe that time wee waste away in sleepe,
So only thirtie five for use we keepe,
In sorrow then, which wastes, and suckes veines drie,
We count we do not live, but rather die
In youth and age; our child-boods both doth kisse,
Therefore no part of life, wee reckon this:
So that sleepe deducted, youth, and age, and sorrow,
Onely a span is all the life we borrow.”

Bristol, 1809.

J. F.


Art. XV. The Ruminator. Containing a series

of moral, sentimental, and critical Essays.


Letter to the Ruminator.


I write from an impulse of gratitude. At this delightful season, when a poetic imagination acquires redoubled influence, I reflect with enthusiasm on the many hours of enjoyment which your lucubrations have bestowed on me. In those essays, Sir, I have ever met with sentiments with which has afforded me the purest pleasure to feel my own ideas in unison; though I know not with what propriety I now trouble you with this declaration, coming from an unknown and obscure individual. Sir, there is a certain mode of life, and peculiarity of situation, which is more likely than any other to produce and cherish poetic enthusiasm. To be accustomed from infancy to the deepest seclusion, and to the wild and majestic scenery of nature, though accompanied with some disadvantages, is perhaps the greatest means of laying a foundation for this temper of mind. The placid tranquillity of verdant woods, the roaring of the mountain torrent, the sweet interchange, and inexpressible influence of morn and evening, contemplated in the bosom of magnificent scenery, must sooner or later, produce, in a mind possessed of any feeling, a correspondent glow of sentiment and imagination. Even Johnson, whose indif. ference to rural beauty is well known, has yet borne testimony in one of the most striking passages of his Journey through Scotland to its powerful influence. I have not the book within reach, and therefore cannot quote; but the passage is probably known to every reader whom I should wish to interest.


From my earliest recollections, I have been familiarized to seclusion, in a beautiful and sequestered corner of the country. To you, Sir, it is unnecessary to describe the various enjoyments, which, in a situation of this kind, must await a mind attached to contemplation, and which can employ itself in pursuit of the Muses. It has been my supreme delight to wander through groves, and sequestered vallies, where no intruder was ever known to disturb the freedom of solitary meditation; and to indulge myself in pouring forth, amid the blast that swept over the neighbouring forest, innumerable attempts at poetical composition, with but little consideration of their fate, or regard to correctness, But heavens ! how boundless are the intenlions ! how wild and impossible the designs! and above all, how glorious and transporting the poetical visions, which have adorned the day-dreams in which I so much delighted to indulge! Even now, I cannot help reflecting with enthusiasm on the unmixed happiness which I then enjoyed. One remark very forcibly occurs to my recollection, which is, that of all the classical authors known to me at present, those which formerly became my associates, in wandering through the woods, and which I was accustomed to read aloud to the dashing waterfall, are recollected with most gratitude, and above all others most forcibly imprinted on the memory. I cannot however, when talking of a country life, use the words of Cowper,

“ I never framed a wish, or formed a plan,
That Alattered me with hopes of earthly bliss,

But here I laid the scene!”



« ZurückWeiter »