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The Emigrant Mechanic and Other Tales In Verse.
by Thomas Cowherd.
PREFACE.
The Author of this volume does not feel much apology necessary for its publication, though the world is already flooded with Rhyme, upon almost every conceivable subject, and most of it of a very mediocre character.
Though living but a short time upon a Bush farm, my experiences were of such a practical nature as to ent.i.tle me to speak with confidence on many rural matters. The religious opinions so frequently and strongly expressed are the result of a careful study of G.o.d's Word, and I feel that for them no apology is necessary.
To learning I make but the most slender pretentions. Born in one of the humblest ranks in life, and going to my trade at the commencement of my _teens_, and working long weary hours for seven years at that trade, I found little opportunity of attaining anything like proficiency in literary composition. Many of my minor pieces have already seen the light in local and other newspapers, etc., and acting on the advice of several literary friends I have at last gathered my princ.i.p.al poems together in a permanent form. Should this effort not meet with public favor, the offense--if such it be--is not likely to be repeated, as I am now over sixty-five years of age. Many of the productions of my humble Muse were conceived, and in a great measure composed, while working at the bench--to which I am still confined, in order to provide for my family's needs.
If the advice of Pope to some of the Rhymers of his day was needful, viz., "to keep their effusions for _seven years_," I can say truly most of mine have been kept that period nearly four times over. I would not have the reader imagine that they have necessarily grown better by being on the shelf; still this has afforded an opportunity for polishing them up in some measure.
I may further say my "Emigrant Mechanic" was nearly or quite finished before Mr. McLachlan's "Emigrant" was published, and before I had ever heard of "The U. E.," a beautiful and very interesting Emigrant poem by Mr. Kerby, of Niagara.
My warmest thanks are due the Rev. W. W. Smith, of Newmarket, Ont., for his kindness in undertaking the preparation of these pages for the press. Also for many valuable emendations.
Such as they are I send forth my unlearned rhymes, with the earnest prayer that they may benefit the reader as much as they have benefitted me, for I can say in the words of Coleridge, "Poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward."
THOMAS COWHERD.
Brantford, Ontario, January, 1884.
BOOK I.
THE ARGUMENT.--Birthplace of the Mechanic. Affliction of the family.
Death of mother and two sisters. The father's second marriage. Family tradition. Youth's thoughts and feelings in regard to it. Places visited: Crossthwaite, Underbarrow, Lake Windermere, Esthwaite.
Incidents, poetic tastes, etc. Conclusion.
My harp awakes! And as I touch each string, The poor Mechanic Emigrant I sing.
Eighteen eventful years, or rather more, Have fled since first he left his native sh.o.r.e-- That much-loved sh.o.r.e! that dear old English home!
So oft regretted since first led to roam.
My Muse, 'tis thine to give in artless lays, A genuine history of his early days; Make known the place where first he saw the light, Portray the scenes which pleased his boyish sight, Unfold his parentage, and backward trace Their line, descended from no common race; Speak of his eagerness to learn a trade, Mark what proficiency in that he made, Glance at his love scenes, and a lesson show, Which youths in general would do well to know.
Fail not to tell how, in his eighteenth year, He did, as _Christian_, publicly appear.
Make known the cause that led him first to feel A strong desire to seek his future weal, In emigration to that distant sh.o.r.e Where flow great rivers, and loud cataracts roar; Where mighty lakes afford the fullest scope For future commerce, and the settler's hope.
Go with him to his home in the wild woods-- That rude log cottage where he stored his goods; Paint faithfully the scenes through which he pa.s.sed, And how he settled in a town at last; What then befel him in successive years, Or aught which to thee suitable appears, To make his history such as may be read By high-born race, or those more lowly bred.
Let usefulness be still thy constant aim, Nor care a jot for merely worldly fame.
Help me to seek, by constant, earnest prayer That G.o.d's approval be my chiefest care.
And if a Poet thou would'st wish to make Thy guide and pattern, gentle COWPER take.
Thus, O my Muse! may we together spend Some happy hours, until my task shall end.
And when 'tis finished, may it ne'er be said That we a useless memoir have displayed.
In the northwest of England's verdant isle, Where beauteous scenery meets one with a smile, Where lakes and rivers burst upon the sight And fill the mind with transports of delight, Where lofty hills unite with lowly dales To furnish matter for instructive tales, There is a town, a very ancient town, Which, should enjoy a share of high renown.
My native place! I need not sink the name-- Such act, sweet KENDAL! thou might'st justly blame, A place so dear, I trust I still shall love, Where'er I am, or wheresoe'er I rove!
It has its site fast by a pleasant stream, Beside whose banks our hero learned to dream.
Though quiet, it gave birth to many a name, Which for good deeds obtained a moderate fame.
Some few there were well skilled in Science deep, Who now within its several graveyards sleep.
Its once-proud Castle that in ruin lies, The birthplace was of one who lived to rise To queenly state, and sit upon a throne And the eighth HENRY as her lord to own.
Within this town some very rich men live; But many more who poverty receive As their low birthright, with the fullest share Of its attendants, constant toil and care!
These oft, though poor, in honesty may vie With most of those who hold their heads so high.
Of this large cla.s.s young COOPER'S parents were; To peace inclined, they heeded not the stir Which proud Ambition's votaries create To gain such objects as their pride may sate.
E'er since this father was a little boy, Hard out-door labor did his hands employ.
The mother, too, to work was early taught, And take delight in what her hands had wrought.
This hardy training proved of use to them, A blessing they did never once contemn; For 'twas the means of gaining honest bread-- And on no other would they e'er be fed!
In course of time four children needed care, And claimed from them of food and clothes a share.
Nor did they grudge them what they could afford-- For they had learned to live and serve the Lord!
But soon Affliction, with her visage dire, Called them to pa.s.s through purifying fire!
And first a smiling girl was s.n.a.t.c.hed away-- The mother next, to Death became a prey.
The father, too, was sick, and laid aside For many weeks; thus sorely was he tried.
Anon their pet, a lovely infant, died, And she was laid by her dear mother's side.
Such fearful strokes, to one in poverty, Were hard to bear, as all may clearly see.
But this poor man, all strong in holy faith, Was led to take a proper view of death-- E'en to regard him as an enemy Conquered by Him who died on Calvary-- And view his loved ones but as gone before.
To Canaan's blest and truly happy sh.o.r.e!
Ere long the Lord a partner did prepare To aid this Christian, and his sorrow share.
She had for many years in service been; Of careful habits, in good pay I ween.
And this enabled her to lay aside A goodly sum, and keep her needs supplied.
This virtuous woman thus became "a crown"
To that poor man, by trials well bowed down.
And by her cleverness in housewif'ry, With constant practice of economy, The family soon enjoyed a greater share Of household comforts, and had much less care.
Thus early schooled, our WILLIAM grew apace, And though still young, wore oft a thoughtful face.
By nature studious, and of ready turn, He needful tasks most eagerly did learn.
And being inquisitive, 'twas his desire On winter nights, and by their frugal fire, That his dear father should to him make known What kind of ancestry they chanced to own.
To this the father, with a smiling face, Soon made reply, "We spring from n.o.ble race!
Long, long ago, I can in truth declare, A wandering Minstrel visited a fair, And there saw one of very n.o.ble blood, Who liked him well and deemed his music good.
They soon contrived each others' minds to learn, And felt Love's flame within their bosoms burn; But knowing well this would not be allowed, Disguised, away they fled amongst a crowd.
Soon they were fast in honest wedlock tied; And thus the Minstrel gained a lovely bride!
Yet were they destined not to live in peace-- For ELLEN'S brother vowed he would not cease To search for them through all the country wide, And quick return with ELLEN at his side!
Long time he searched, then gave them up for lost, And proved his boasting vain, unto his cost.
But on one night he, weary, sad and faint, Espied a house, and to that house he went-- Just reached the threshold, and sank down quite spent.
The fair young mistress, with a piteous eye, Beheld the man, and feared that he would die.
She loosed his vest, then laid his bosom bare, And spied a mark which well might make her stare.
It was her brother! and her gentle heart With love o'erflowed to act a sister's part.
Most earnest efforts quick the man restored, And ELLEN felt most grateful to the Lord.
She, fully conscious of strict rect.i.tude, Confessed her kindred, and for pardon sued.
The astonished brother clasped her in his arms; Their early love afresh their spirit warms, And all his hatred very soon disarms.
This Minstrel, with his lovely ELLEN, were Our ancestors, as you may well infer."
[Footnote: In proof that the above legend has some foundation in fact, I may state that one of my hero's cousins in England has a gold headed cane, and another a splendid jasper snuff-box, both said to have been left by the party who came to seek the runaway lady.]
Young COOPER heard, and could not well conceal Some stirring thoughts that he began to feel.