The Emigrant Mechanic and Other Tales in Verse Part 52

I would not indulge in ungrounded suspicion, But truly the matter looks dark to my mind.

And I trust before long a most strict inquisition Will be inst.i.tuted, the faulty to find.

But should this be done would it rear up the buildings That now form a rubbish heap blackened and hot?

Ah, no! and the Muse peering into the Future Fears never such structures shall rise on that spot!

Then mourn, Brantford, mourn! for thy sad, sad misfortune May well make thy sons to remember this day; And all may well sigh and feel strongest emotion, For troubles now thicken in blackest array.

And oh, it would tend to thy weal in the future, If thou such events as a warning would take To cleanse from thy dwellings Sin's dreadful pollution, Lest G.o.d's greater judgments against thee awake.

TO THE REV. J. W AND HIS BRIDE

A MARRIAGE DAY

October 4, 1853

An humble poet--save the mark!

Wishes to give to you a lay In honor of your wedding day, But somehow labors in the dark, And fears from etiquette to stray.

And why? No invitation came To bid me tune my simple lyre-- To fan my low poetic fire, Nor yet a hope of deathless fame Which might for risk, serve me for hire.

I'll run the risk and fearless strike A lyre too apt to slumber long, And pour my thoughts in artless song.

Many there are who do the like, And yet in this may do no wrong.

Now, I would hope sweet blessings may Flow to you from our Father kind: The rich gift of a happy mind, In Wisdom's paths content to stay, And purest peace in that to find.

I trust you will be filled with love, Such love as G.o.d alone can give; That you may still before Him live.

Placing your hopes always above, May you his Spirit never grieve.

O, may you still, as man and wife, Mutual confidence possess; For this will free from much distress Your family in after life, And make your care and sorrow less.

May both such lovely patterns be Of what your character requires, That if brought through Affliction's fires Mankind your purity may see; And which to see G.o.d most desires.

And may you ever useful prove In making known Christ's saving Name; Your minds not swayed by worldly fame-- In urging souls to taste that Love Which cheers our hearts through scorn and shame.

And should you by His Grace become A numerous, holy, happy band, Still he'll uphold you by His Hand, Till all at last come safely home Unto that glorious Spirit Land.

STANZAS ON HEARING AN AUCTIONEER QUOTE THE FOLLOWING Pa.s.sAGE OF SCRIPTURE: "THERE WAS SILENCE IN HEAVEN ABOUT THE s.p.a.cE OF HALF AN HOUR."--

REV. VIII, I.

Yes, vain Scoffer! so the Scriptures tell us, But awful was the silence at that time; A prelude of the wrath of G.o.d most jealous, Expressed in dreadful thunderbolts sublime.

Oh! hast thou ever marked the scene that follows, When the first Angel did his trumpet take And blow a blast heard through all Earth's vast hollows, Which did the mountains to their bases shake?

Or realize "the hail and fire commingling With blood, and all cast down upon the Earth?"

To mention this should set thine ears a-tingling, And check at times thy loud uproarious mirth.

But read thou on with most profound attention: Dire woes stand forth in gloomy vividness!

Ah! would'st thou shrink from some vague apprehension That the perusal might cause thee distress?

Know thou, what follows is but the beginning Of plagues more fearful than we can conceive.

This thou must see, and yet thou keep'st on sinning, As if such madness Conscience could relieve.

Stop, then, at once, lest in Eternal ruin Thy soul engulfed shall see her folly great.

Flee now to Christ; become a suppliant suing For pardon from Him ere it be too late.

WINTER'S RAVAGES, AN APPEAL TO THE RICH ON BEHALF OF THE POOR.

NOVEMBER, 1857.

Stern Winter on foul mischief bent Left his cold region of the North; As his Advance-guard early sent Loud howling blasts and snow storms forth.

These warriors hastened to obey The mandate of their frost-robed King, And as they came the Orb of Day Withdrew his rays which gladness bring.

They, gathering strength as nigh the drew Unto our homes, spread ruin round, And thus transformed each beauteous view, And in white mantle clad the ground.

Before their track lay pastures green, While root crops in abundance told How fruitful had the Summer been Ere she away from us had rolled.

Behind them was a widespread waste Of leafless trees and drifting snows, And still with most malicious haste They dealt around their chilling blows.

Anon their King in ice-car rode With furious speed, and placed his seal Upon the devastation broad,-- Exulting in his savage zeal.

This done, fair Nature at his feet Lay prostrate in the arms of death!

And now the poor lack food and heat, Benumbed by his dread icy breath.

For in our great Commercial World Loud storms have rung their changes round, While some are from high station hurled And in chill Penury are found.

Our Workshops, erst with men well filled, The scenes of Trade's most busy strife, Are almost silent now, and skilled Mechanics want the means of life.

And shall it e'er be said of those Who have of means a full supply, That avarice has their heart's blood froze,-- That they can see their brethren die?

Forbid it, O Thou gracious One, From whom we every good obtain; O, melt the hardest heart of stone, And quell its cruel thirst for gain!

That those who have may freely give Of food and clothes a plenteous store To help the needy now to live: "Those tend to G.o.d who help the poor."