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Full Title
The complete poetical works of William Wordsworth: together with a description of the country of the lakes in the north of England, now first published with his works ... / edited by Henry Reed.
Author
Wordsworth, William, 1770-1850. Melville, Herman, 1819-1891.
Date Added
8 January 2014
Language
English
Publish Date
1839
Publisher
Philadelphia: J. Kay, Jun. and brother; Boston: J. Munroe and Co.; [etc., etc.]
Source
Woodstock Theological Center Library, Georgetown University.
Topic
Wordsworth, William, 1770-1850. Melville, Herman, 1819-1891. English poetry.
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OCR
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POEMS FOUNDED ON THE AFFECTIONS. 99
Had almost reached the festive door,
When, startled by the Sailor’s roar,
He hears a sound and sees the light,
And in a moment calls to mind
That ’tis the village Merry-niaur !*
Although before in no dejection,
At this insidious recollection
His heart with sudden joy-is filled, —
His ears are by the music thrilled,
His eyes take pleasure in the road
Glittering before .him bright and broad ;
And Benjamin is wet and cold.
And there are reasons manifold
That make the good, tow’rds which he’s yearning,
Look fairly like a lawful earning.
Nor has thought time to come and go,
To vibrate between yes and no;
“For,” cries the sailor, “ Glorious chance
That blew us hither! let him dance
Who can or will;— my honest soul,
Our treat shall be a friendly Bowl!”
He draws him to the door—‘“ Come in,
Come, come,” cries he to Benjamin ;
And Benjamin—ah, woe is me!
Gave the word, —the horses heard
And halted, though reluctantly.
“Blithe souls and lightsome hearts have we,
Feasting at the Cuerry Trre!”
This was the outside proclamation,
This was the inside salutation;
What bustling — jostling — high and low!
A universal overfiow !
What tankards foaming from the tap!
What store of cakes in every lap!
What thumping — stumping — overhead t
The thunder had not been more busy:
With such a stir, you would have said,
This little place may well be dizzy!
*Tis who can dance with greatest vigour —
*T is what can be most prompt and eager; —
As if it heard the fiddle’s call,
The pewter clatters on the wall;
The very bacon shows its feeling,
Swinging from the smoky ceiling!
A streaming Bowl—a blazing fire—
What greater good can heart desire?
*T were worth a wise man’s while to try
The utmost anger of the sky;
To seek for thoughts of painful cast,
If such be the amends at last.
Now should you think I judge amiss,
The Cuerry Tree shows proof of this;
* A term well known in the North of England, and applied
to rural Festivals where young persons meet in the evening for
the purpose of dancing.
For, soon of all the happy there,
Our Travellers are the happiest pair, ~ _
All care with Benjamin is gone —
A Czxsar past the Rubicon! ;
He thinks not of his long, long strife ;—
The Sailor, Man by nature gay,
Hath no resolves to throw away ;
And he hath now forgot his Wife,
Hath quite forgotten her—or may be
Deems that she is happier, laid
Within that warm and peaceful bed ;
Under cover,
Terror over,
Sleeping by her sleeping Baby.
With bow] in hand,
(It may not stand)
Gladdest of the gladsome band,
Amid their own delight and fun,
They hear — when. every. dance is done —
They hear—when every fit is o’er —
The fiddle’s squeak* —that call to bliss,
Ever followed by a kiss;
They envy not the happy lot,
But enjoy their own the more!
While thus our jocund Travellers fare,
Up springs the Sailor from his Chair —
Limps (for I might have told before
That he was lame) across the floor—
Is gone —returns — and with a prize;
With what? —a Ship of lusty size;
A gallant stately Man of War.
Fixed on a smoothly-sliding car.
Surprise to all, but-most surprise
To Benjamin, who rubs his eyes,
Not knowing that he had befriended
A Man so gloriously attended !
“This,” cries the Sailor, “a Third-rate is—
Stand back,.and you shall see her gratis!
This was the Flag-Ship at the Nile,
The Vanguard —you may smirk and smile,
But, pretty Maid, if you look near,
You’ll find you’ye much in little here!
A nobler Ship did never swim,
And you shall see her in full trim:
I’ll set, my Friends, to do you honour,
Set every inch of sail upon her.”
So said, so done; and masts, sails, yards,
He names them all; and interlards
His speech with uncouth terms of art,
Accomplished in the Showman’s part;
And then as from a sudden check,
Cries, out—“’T is there, the Quarter-deck
* At the close of each strathspey, or jig, a particular note from
the fiddle summons the Rustic to the agreeable duty of saluting
his Partner