He pass'd his hours in peace. ]
But, while he view'd his wealth increase, | While thus along Life's dusty road, | The beaten track content he trod, | Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares, I Uncall'd', unheeded, unawares、, | Brought on his eightieth year. | And now, one night, in musing mood, As all alone he sate,
The unwelcome messenger of Fate, | Once more before him stood. I
Half kill'd with anger, and surprise, | "So soon return'd' !" | 'old Dodson cries,, | 2" So soon, d'ye call it?" | 'Death replies "Surely, my friend, you're but, in jest!a | Since I was here before, |
'Tis six-and-thirty years', at least,
And you are now fourscore." |
"So much the worse," 'the clown rejoin'd, | To spare the aged would be kind: | However, see your search be le'gal;! And your author'ity is 't re'gal? | I Else you are come on a fool's' errand, | With but a secretary's warrant. |
Beside, you promis'd me Three War'nings | Which I have look'd for nights, and mornings! | But, for that loss of time, and ease, |
I can recover damages.” |
"I know," cries Death, "that, at the best', | I seldom am a welcome guest; |
But don't be captious, friend, at least : | I little thought you'd still be able, I To stump about your farm', and stable; | Your years have run to a great length; | I wish you joy, though, of your strength !" |
But in jest ; not button jest. Years at least; not years'at-least.
"Hold'," says the farmer, "not so fast! I have been lame these four years past." | "And no great won'der," | Death replies : | "However, you still keep your eyes';] And sure, to see one's loves, and friends, | For legs, and arms, would make amends." | Perhaps," says Dodson, "so it might`, | But latterly, I've lost my sight." |
"This is a shocking tale, 't is true, But still there's comfort left for you:| Each strives your sadness to amuse I warrant you hear all the news." | "There's none'," cries he;" and, if there were, | I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear." | "Nay, then," the spectre stern rejoin'd, | "These are unjus'tifiable yearnings; | If you are Lame', and Deaf', and Blind', I You've had your Three sufficient Warnings. So, come along, no more we'll part;" | He said, and touch'd him with his dart. | And now, old Dodson turning pale, | Yields to his fate.
THE CHAMELEON; OR, PERTINACITY EXPOSED.
Oft has it been my lot to mark | A proud, conceited, talking spark, | With eyes that hardly serv'd at most', | To guard their master 'gainst a post; | Yet round the world the blade has been, | To see whatever could be seen: | Returning from his finish'd tour, | Grown ten times perter than before ; | Whatever word you chance to drop, | The travell'd fool your mouth will stop. :|
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow — | I've seen and sure I ought to know." | So, begs you'd pay a due submission, | And acquiesce in his decision. |
Two travellers of such a cast, | As o'er Arabia's wilds they pass'd, | And on their way, in friendly chat, Now talk'd of this', and then of that, I Discours'd a while, 'mongst other matter, Of the Chameleon's form,
"A stranger animal," cries one, "Sure never liv'd beneath the sun! | A lizard's body, lean, and long, | A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd-| And what a length of tail, behind! | How slow, its pace! | and then, its hue' Who ever saw so fine a blue?” |
"Hold there," the other quick replies, | ""Tis green- I saw it with these, eyes, | As late with open mouth, it lay, I And warm'd it in the sunny ray; | Stretch'd at its ease, the beast I view'd', | And saw it eat the air for food." |
"I've seen it, friend, as well as you', | And must again affirm it blue.. | At leisure, I the beast survey'd', \ Extended in the cooling shade,." |
""T is green', 't is green', I can assure ye." | "Green!" 'cries the other in a fury, 266 Why', do you think I've lost my eyes'?" | "'T were no great loss," the friend replies,, | For, if they always serve you thus',
You'll find them but of little use." |
So high at last the contest rose', | From words they almost came to blows. :| When luckily came by, a third — | To him the question they referr'd; | And begg'd he'd tell them, if he knew', | Whether the thing was green, or blue. |
"Sirs," cries the umpire, |" cease your pother; | The creature's neither one nor t'other. | I caught the animal last night, |
And view'd it o'er by candle-light : |
't was black as jet You stare | but I have got it yet', | And can produce' it." | "Pray then do; | For I am sure the thing is blue.” |
"And I'll' engage, that when you've seen, | The reptile, you'll pronounce him green." | "Well then, at once to end the doubt," | Replies the man, "I'll turn him out、: | And, when before your eyes I've set him, | If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." | He said; then full before their sight, | Produc'd the beast', and lo!-'t was white, !|
Both stared the man look'd wondrous wise "My children," 'the chameleon cries, (Then first the creature found a tongue) | 2. You all are right, and all are wrong: | When next you talk of what you view, Think others see as well as you: | Nor wonder if you find that none,, | Prefers your eye-sight to his own." |
THE INVOCATION.
[Written after the death of a sister-in-law.] (MRS. HEMANS.)
Answer me, burning stars of night! | Where hath the spirit gone, | That, past the reach of human sight, | E'en as a breeze, hath flown? And the stars answer'd me,- | "We roll In light, and power on high;| But, of the never-dying soul', | Ask things that cannot die, !" | O many-toned, and chainless wind ! | Thou art a wanderer free', |
Tell me if thou its place canst find',| Far over mount, and sea? |
And the wind murmur'd in reply', - | "The blue deep I have cross'd', | And met its barks, and billows high', | ́ But not what thou hast lost!" |
Ye clouds that gorgeously repose | Around the setting sun', |
An'swer! have ye a home for those |
Whose earthly race is run'? |
The bright clouds answer'd,
We van'ish from the sky; |
Ask what is deathless in thy heart, | For that which cannot die !" |
Speak, then, thou voice of God within, !| Thou of the deep low tone! |
Answer me! | through life's restless din', | Where hath the spirit flown? |
And the voice answer'd,- "Be thou still!| Enough to know is given; |
Clouds, winds, and stars their task fulfil,—| Thine is to trust in Heav'n!" |
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