ARMTHORPE BELLS.[173]

Oh! sights are seen, and sounds are heard,On Morton bridge, at night,When to the woods the cheerful birdsHave ta'en their silent flight.When through the mantle of the skyNo cheering moonbeams delve,And the far village clock hath toldThe midnight hour of twelve.Then o'er the lonely path is heardThe sigh of sable trees,With deadly moan of suff'ring strifeBorne on the solemn breeze—For Mary's spirit wanders there,In snowy robe array'd,To tell each trembling villagerWhere sleeps the murder'd maid.It was a Sabbath's eve of love,When nature seem'd more holy;And nought in life was dull, but she,Whose look was melancholy.She lean'd her tear-stain'd cheek of healthUpon her lily arm;Poor, hapless girl! she could not tellWhat caus'd her wild alarm.Around the roses of her faceHer flaxen ringlets fell;No lovelier bosom than her ownCould guiltless sorrow swell!The Holy Book before her lay,That boon to mortals given,To teach the way from weeping earthTo ever-glorious heaven;And Mary read prophetic words,That whisper'd of her doom:—"Oh! they will search for me, but whereI am, they cannot come!"The tears forsook her gentle eyes,And wet the sacred lore;And such a terror shook her frame,She ne'er had known before.She ceas'd to weep, but deeper gloomHer tearless musing brought;And darker wan'd the evening hour,And darker Mary's thought.The sun, he set behind the hills,And threw his fading fireOn mountain, rock, and village home,And lit the distant spire.(Sweet fane of truth and mercy! whereThe tombs of other yearsDis-course of virtuous life and hope,And tell of by-gone tears!)It was a night of nature's calm,For earth and sky were still;And childhood's revelry was o'er,Upon the daisied hill.The alehouse, with its gilded signHung on the beechen bough,Was mute within, and tranquillyThe hamlet-stream did flow.The room where sat this grieving girlWas one of ancient years;Its antique state was well display'dTo conjure up her fears;With massy walls of sable oak,And roof of quaint design,And lattic'd window, darkly hidBy rose and eglantine.The summer moon now sweetly shoneAll softly and serene;She clos'd the casement tremblinglyUpon the beauteous scene.Above that carved mantle hung,Clad in the garb of gloom,A painting of rich feudal state,—An old baronial room.The Norman windows scarcely castA light upon the wall,Where shone the shields of warrior knightsWithin the lonely hall.And, pendent from each rusty nail,Helmet and steely dress,With bright and gilded morion,To grace that dim recess.Then Mary thought upon each taleOf terrible romance;—The lady in the lonely tower—The murderer's deadly glance—And moon-lit groves in pathless woods,Where shadows nightly sped;Her fancy could not leave the realmsOf darkness and the dead.There stood a messenger without,Beside her master's gate,Who, till his thirsty horse had drunk,Would hardly deign to wait.The mansion rung with Mary's name,For dreadful news he bore—A dying mother wish'd to lookUpon her child once more.The words were, "Haste, ere life be gone;"Then was she quickly plac'dBehind him on the hurrying steedWhich soon the woods retrac'd.Now they have pass'd o'er Morton bridge,While smil'd the moon aboveUpon the ruffian and his prey—The hawk and harmless dove.The towering elms divide their tops;And now a dismal heathProclaims her "final doom" is nearThe awful hour of death!The villain check'd his weary horse,And spoke of trust betray'd;And Mary's heart grew sick with fright,As, answering, thus she said—"Oh! kill me not until I seeMy mother's face again!Ride on, in mercy, horseman, ride,And let us reach the lane!"There slay me by my mother's door,And I will pray for thee;For she shall find her daughter's corse"—"No, girl, it cannot be."This heath thou shalt not cross, for soonIts earth will hide thy form;That babbling tongue of thine shall makeA morsel for the worm!"She leap'd upon the ling-clad heath,And, nerv'd with phrensied fear,Pursued her slippery way across,Until the wood was near.But nearer still two fiends appear'd,Like hunters of the fawn,Who cast their cumb'ring cloaks away,Beside that forest lone;And bounded swifter than the maid,Who nearly 'scap'd their wrath,For well she knew that woody glade,And every hoary path.Obscur'd by oak and hazel bush,Where milk maid's merry songHad often charm'd her lover's ear,Who blest her silv'ry tongue.But Mary miss'd the woodland stile—The hedge-row was not high;She gain'd its prickly top, and nowHer murderers were nigh.A slender tree her fingers caught—It bent beneath her weight;'Twas false as love and Mary's fate!Deceiving as the night!She fell—and villagers relateNo more of Mary's hour,But how she rose with deadly might,And, with a maniac's power,Fought with her murd'rers till they brokeHer slender arm in twain;But none could e'er discover whereThe maiden's corse was lain.When wand'ring by that noiseless wood,Forsaken by the bee,Each rev'rend chronicler displaysThe bent and treach'rous tree.Pointing the barkless spot to view,Which Mary's hand embrac'd,They shake their hoary locks, and say,"It ne'er can be effac'd!"

Oh! sights are seen, and sounds are heard,On Morton bridge, at night,When to the woods the cheerful birdsHave ta'en their silent flight.

Oh! sights are seen, and sounds are heard,

On Morton bridge, at night,

When to the woods the cheerful birds

Have ta'en their silent flight.

When through the mantle of the skyNo cheering moonbeams delve,And the far village clock hath toldThe midnight hour of twelve.

When through the mantle of the sky

No cheering moonbeams delve,

And the far village clock hath told

The midnight hour of twelve.

Then o'er the lonely path is heardThe sigh of sable trees,With deadly moan of suff'ring strifeBorne on the solemn breeze—

Then o'er the lonely path is heard

The sigh of sable trees,

With deadly moan of suff'ring strife

Borne on the solemn breeze—

For Mary's spirit wanders there,In snowy robe array'd,To tell each trembling villagerWhere sleeps the murder'd maid.

For Mary's spirit wanders there,

In snowy robe array'd,

To tell each trembling villager

Where sleeps the murder'd maid.

It was a Sabbath's eve of love,When nature seem'd more holy;And nought in life was dull, but she,Whose look was melancholy.

It was a Sabbath's eve of love,

When nature seem'd more holy;

And nought in life was dull, but she,

Whose look was melancholy.

She lean'd her tear-stain'd cheek of healthUpon her lily arm;Poor, hapless girl! she could not tellWhat caus'd her wild alarm.

She lean'd her tear-stain'd cheek of health

Upon her lily arm;

Poor, hapless girl! she could not tell

What caus'd her wild alarm.

Around the roses of her faceHer flaxen ringlets fell;No lovelier bosom than her ownCould guiltless sorrow swell!

Around the roses of her face

Her flaxen ringlets fell;

No lovelier bosom than her own

Could guiltless sorrow swell!

The Holy Book before her lay,That boon to mortals given,To teach the way from weeping earthTo ever-glorious heaven;

The Holy Book before her lay,

That boon to mortals given,

To teach the way from weeping earth

To ever-glorious heaven;

And Mary read prophetic words,That whisper'd of her doom:—"Oh! they will search for me, but whereI am, they cannot come!"

And Mary read prophetic words,

That whisper'd of her doom:—

"Oh! they will search for me, but where

I am, they cannot come!"

The tears forsook her gentle eyes,And wet the sacred lore;And such a terror shook her frame,She ne'er had known before.

The tears forsook her gentle eyes,

And wet the sacred lore;

And such a terror shook her frame,

She ne'er had known before.

She ceas'd to weep, but deeper gloomHer tearless musing brought;And darker wan'd the evening hour,And darker Mary's thought.

She ceas'd to weep, but deeper gloom

Her tearless musing brought;

And darker wan'd the evening hour,

And darker Mary's thought.

The sun, he set behind the hills,And threw his fading fireOn mountain, rock, and village home,And lit the distant spire.

The sun, he set behind the hills,

And threw his fading fire

On mountain, rock, and village home,

And lit the distant spire.

(Sweet fane of truth and mercy! whereThe tombs of other yearsDis-course of virtuous life and hope,And tell of by-gone tears!)

(Sweet fane of truth and mercy! where

The tombs of other years

Dis-course of virtuous life and hope,

And tell of by-gone tears!)

It was a night of nature's calm,For earth and sky were still;And childhood's revelry was o'er,Upon the daisied hill.

It was a night of nature's calm,

For earth and sky were still;

And childhood's revelry was o'er,

Upon the daisied hill.

The alehouse, with its gilded signHung on the beechen bough,Was mute within, and tranquillyThe hamlet-stream did flow.

The alehouse, with its gilded sign

Hung on the beechen bough,

Was mute within, and tranquilly

The hamlet-stream did flow.

The room where sat this grieving girlWas one of ancient years;Its antique state was well display'dTo conjure up her fears;

The room where sat this grieving girl

Was one of ancient years;

Its antique state was well display'd

To conjure up her fears;

With massy walls of sable oak,And roof of quaint design,And lattic'd window, darkly hidBy rose and eglantine.

With massy walls of sable oak,

And roof of quaint design,

And lattic'd window, darkly hid

By rose and eglantine.

The summer moon now sweetly shoneAll softly and serene;She clos'd the casement tremblinglyUpon the beauteous scene.

The summer moon now sweetly shone

All softly and serene;

She clos'd the casement tremblingly

Upon the beauteous scene.

Above that carved mantle hung,Clad in the garb of gloom,A painting of rich feudal state,—An old baronial room.

Above that carved mantle hung,

Clad in the garb of gloom,

A painting of rich feudal state,—

An old baronial room.

The Norman windows scarcely castA light upon the wall,Where shone the shields of warrior knightsWithin the lonely hall.

The Norman windows scarcely cast

A light upon the wall,

Where shone the shields of warrior knights

Within the lonely hall.

And, pendent from each rusty nail,Helmet and steely dress,With bright and gilded morion,To grace that dim recess.

And, pendent from each rusty nail,

Helmet and steely dress,

With bright and gilded morion,

To grace that dim recess.

Then Mary thought upon each taleOf terrible romance;—The lady in the lonely tower—The murderer's deadly glance—

Then Mary thought upon each tale

Of terrible romance;—

The lady in the lonely tower—

The murderer's deadly glance—

And moon-lit groves in pathless woods,Where shadows nightly sped;Her fancy could not leave the realmsOf darkness and the dead.

And moon-lit groves in pathless woods,

Where shadows nightly sped;

Her fancy could not leave the realms

Of darkness and the dead.

There stood a messenger without,Beside her master's gate,Who, till his thirsty horse had drunk,Would hardly deign to wait.

There stood a messenger without,

Beside her master's gate,

Who, till his thirsty horse had drunk,

Would hardly deign to wait.

The mansion rung with Mary's name,For dreadful news he bore—A dying mother wish'd to lookUpon her child once more.

The mansion rung with Mary's name,

For dreadful news he bore—

A dying mother wish'd to look

Upon her child once more.

The words were, "Haste, ere life be gone;"Then was she quickly plac'dBehind him on the hurrying steedWhich soon the woods retrac'd.

The words were, "Haste, ere life be gone;"

Then was she quickly plac'd

Behind him on the hurrying steed

Which soon the woods retrac'd.

Now they have pass'd o'er Morton bridge,While smil'd the moon aboveUpon the ruffian and his prey—The hawk and harmless dove.

Now they have pass'd o'er Morton bridge,

While smil'd the moon above

Upon the ruffian and his prey—

The hawk and harmless dove.

The towering elms divide their tops;And now a dismal heathProclaims her "final doom" is nearThe awful hour of death!

The towering elms divide their tops;

And now a dismal heath

Proclaims her "final doom" is near

The awful hour of death!

The villain check'd his weary horse,And spoke of trust betray'd;And Mary's heart grew sick with fright,As, answering, thus she said—

The villain check'd his weary horse,

And spoke of trust betray'd;

And Mary's heart grew sick with fright,

As, answering, thus she said—

"Oh! kill me not until I seeMy mother's face again!Ride on, in mercy, horseman, ride,And let us reach the lane!

"Oh! kill me not until I see

My mother's face again!

Ride on, in mercy, horseman, ride,

And let us reach the lane!

"There slay me by my mother's door,And I will pray for thee;For she shall find her daughter's corse"—"No, girl, it cannot be.

"There slay me by my mother's door,

And I will pray for thee;

For she shall find her daughter's corse"—

"No, girl, it cannot be.

"This heath thou shalt not cross, for soonIts earth will hide thy form;That babbling tongue of thine shall makeA morsel for the worm!"

"This heath thou shalt not cross, for soon

Its earth will hide thy form;

That babbling tongue of thine shall make

A morsel for the worm!"

She leap'd upon the ling-clad heath,And, nerv'd with phrensied fear,Pursued her slippery way across,Until the wood was near.

She leap'd upon the ling-clad heath,

And, nerv'd with phrensied fear,

Pursued her slippery way across,

Until the wood was near.

But nearer still two fiends appear'd,Like hunters of the fawn,Who cast their cumb'ring cloaks away,Beside that forest lone;

But nearer still two fiends appear'd,

Like hunters of the fawn,

Who cast their cumb'ring cloaks away,

Beside that forest lone;

And bounded swifter than the maid,Who nearly 'scap'd their wrath,For well she knew that woody glade,And every hoary path.

And bounded swifter than the maid,

Who nearly 'scap'd their wrath,

For well she knew that woody glade,

And every hoary path.

Obscur'd by oak and hazel bush,Where milk maid's merry songHad often charm'd her lover's ear,Who blest her silv'ry tongue.

Obscur'd by oak and hazel bush,

Where milk maid's merry song

Had often charm'd her lover's ear,

Who blest her silv'ry tongue.

But Mary miss'd the woodland stile—The hedge-row was not high;She gain'd its prickly top, and nowHer murderers were nigh.

But Mary miss'd the woodland stile—

The hedge-row was not high;

She gain'd its prickly top, and now

Her murderers were nigh.

A slender tree her fingers caught—It bent beneath her weight;'Twas false as love and Mary's fate!Deceiving as the night!

A slender tree her fingers caught—

It bent beneath her weight;

'Twas false as love and Mary's fate!

Deceiving as the night!

She fell—and villagers relateNo more of Mary's hour,But how she rose with deadly might,And, with a maniac's power,

She fell—and villagers relate

No more of Mary's hour,

But how she rose with deadly might,

And, with a maniac's power,

Fought with her murd'rers till they brokeHer slender arm in twain;But none could e'er discover whereThe maiden's corse was lain.

Fought with her murd'rers till they broke

Her slender arm in twain;

But none could e'er discover where

The maiden's corse was lain.

When wand'ring by that noiseless wood,Forsaken by the bee,Each rev'rend chronicler displaysThe bent and treach'rous tree.

When wand'ring by that noiseless wood,

Forsaken by the bee,

Each rev'rend chronicler displays

The bent and treach'rous tree.

Pointing the barkless spot to view,Which Mary's hand embrac'd,They shake their hoary locks, and say,"It ne'er can be effac'd!"

Pointing the barkless spot to view,

Which Mary's hand embrac'd,

They shake their hoary locks, and say,

"It ne'er can be effac'd!"

I.ISING the church ofArmthorpetown,[174]That stands upon a hill,And all who in the Fly[175]come downMay see it if they will.II.But there to them it doth appearAn humble barn, tho' neat,I wish the rector every yearHad it choke full of wheat.III.I only mean, supposing itA very barn indeed;I'm sure he'd give thereof what's fitTo them who stand in need.IV.The steeple then, you may presume,Is not like that ofGrantham,For bells and chimes there was no room,And now they do not want them.V.In vain the Quakers it abuse,And with their canting flout it,Calling this church a steeple-house,There's no such thing about it.VI.Altho' no steeple doth appear,Yet bells they're not without,High hung in air, aloft they are,But where? Ah! there's the doubt.VII.How this can be, for you to tellRequires somewhat to think on;And yet they serve the folks as wellAs would Great Tom of Lincoln.VIII.The architect, a silly man,(And artist too—God wot;)Some say, when up he drew his plan,The steeple he forgot.IX.But that was not the cause of it,Our wiser rector fancies;'Twas not the builder's lack of wit,But want of the finances.X.To rectify this great neglect,Before the cash was spent all,An useful thing he did erect,Both cheap and ornamental.XI.For he a simple wall did raiseUpon the west-end gable,And I must own, unto his praise,It stands yet firm and stable.XII.And of his skill to give some proof,Which he'd not done before:He built it up above the roof,Some six feet high or more.XIII.Of this, from north to south th' extentWas full as long as high,For doing which his wise intentI'll tell you bye and bye.XIV.Two holes quite thro' this wall were seenLike windows in a garret,That two small bells might hang therein,For passengers to stare at.XV.But how to get these bells—alas!Much jangling did create,Much ale, and much tobacco, wasConsum'd in the debate.XVI.One wiser than the rest propos'dTo draw up a petition,BeggingSir George[176]would be dispos'dTo pity their condition.XVII.That he would kindly grant this boon,Unto his tenants all,The dinner-bell that calls at noonThe vassals to his hall.XVIII.When to sir George they did impart,How much they stood in need,He said he'd give't, with all his heart,And sent it them with speed.XIX.Their need by this being half supply'd,They wanted now but one,But that, with judgment great, they cried,Should have a shriller tone.XX.One thought upon a tavern bell,Another on a miller's,A third thought one would do as wellThat tinkles on a thill-horse.XXI."A fine one's in the Angel bar,"[177]Says one, "and I can steal it,If on the bible you'll all swearYou never will reveal it."XXII.The clerk, a simple tailor, cry'dHe'd never touch the string,Or whatsoever else they ty'dTo the accursed thing.XXIII.The tailor's speech did for some timePut all in great combustion,They said it was no greater crimeTo steal a bell than fustian.XXIV.Here they had stuck, had it not beenFor what I shall relate,A gift to them quite unforeseenWhich was decreed by fate.XXV.A neighb'ring corp'rate town,[178]who foundTheir crier's bell too small,To get one with a deeper soundHad call'd a common-hall.XXVI.The mayor, for th' honor of the place,Commendably was zealous,And of whate'er might it disgraceWas equally as jealous.XXVII.Said, "Gentlemen and brethren dear,You need not now be toldThat this here town for many a yearLook'd very mean and old.XXVIII."But so magnificent is grown,As know ye all full well;That quality from London townChoose here to come and dwell.XXIX."Our Mansion-house, inside and out,So elegant doth rise,That, in the nation round-about,'Tis mention'd with surprize.XXX."Of precious time 'twould be a loss,Should I make long preamblesOf pavements, lamps, and butter-cross,And of our butchers' shambles.XXXI."But here the new-built gaol, I own,[179]Ought not to be forgotten,A sweeter place in all the townNo one would choose to rot in.XXXII."Yet notwithstanding all our pains,Our judgment and expence,Yet wanting much, one thing remainsOf weighty consequence.XXXIII."For what avails our large gilt mace,Our full-furr'd purple gowns?Our scarlet fiddlers' noted race,And lord-like pack of hounds?[180]XXXIV."What, tho' our huntsman's clothed well,In coat of grass-green plush,[181]Whene'er I see our crier's bell,I vow it makes me blush.XXXV."Whene'er we're sitting in this hall,The sound on't makes me sick,For 'tis a great burlesque on allOur body politic.XXXVI."No dignity's thereby convey'd,No harmony decorous,I marvel much no order's madeIt shan't be rung before us.XXXVII."Then, gentlemen, with decent pride,At this our solemn sitting,Let us agree that we provideA bell our town befitting."XXXVIII.The court agreed; a bell was bought,With more melodious tongue,How much it cost I have forgot,But to this day 'tis rung.XXXIX.Th' offensive bell was laid aside,Like statesmen when discarded,And in a stable did reside,Entirely disregarded.XL.Soon did the news of this event,Reach Armthorpe you may swear.From whence two leading men were sentTo treat with Mr. Mayor.XLI.Whom they approach'd with awkward bow,And then with sly addressThey told his worship, "That as how—They were in great distress."XLII.Said,—"A great work we have in hand,In which we've been too rash,For now it all is at a stand,Only for want of cash.XLIII."A bell we want, a small one too.Would make our business right,A second-handed bell would do,Did we know where to buy't."XLIV.By this time he smelt out their drift,And gen'rous as a king,Said,—"We have one—to you we'll giv't,—'Twill be the very thing.XLV."And I'm well pleased, I do protest,To save you so much charge,But, I suppose, tho' you know best,Our bell will be too large."XLVI.The bell was fetch'd at his command,(A sight to them most pleasing,)Of which to them, with but one hand,He livery gave and seizin.XLVII.The joy they did at this conceiveThey could not well conceal,For as they bow'd, and took their leave,They rang a tingling peal.XLVIII.Full fast then homeward they did hie,(Almost as quick as thought,)Nor was their speed retarded byThe weight of what they brought.XLIX.But when the town they did descry,They rung their bell aloud,Which their success did signifyTo the desponding crowd.L.The townsmen bless'd at the event,And at their hearts full glad,Quickly return'd the compliment,By ringing that they had.LI.So when a ship a fort salutes,No sooner have they done,The fort, to obviate all disputes,Returns them gun for gun.LII.Jason, who brought the golden fleeceUpon the good ship Argo,Was not more welcom'd home than these,Tho' they did not so far go.LIII.Both bells were in triumphant state,With many a rustic grin,Conducted to the church-yard gateAnd introduc'd therein.LIV.Where in the shade of two spread yews,Like Baucis and Philemon,Was told at large the joyful news,To many a listning yeoman.LV.There wanted not to mount them highA windlass or a gable,For any lad that stood therebyTo run them up was able.LVI.The bells, at last, were safely hungIn their respective holes,At weddings, where they both are rung,At deaths, the largest tolls.LVII.At first they various ways did tryIn vain, to make them speak,At last they did succeed, and byUn tour de mechanique.LVIII.The clerk right wisely did foresee.By virtue of his post,That he of their good companyWas like to have the most.LIX.To keep society alive,And that they still might please,Wish'd that some way he could contrive,T' enjoy the same with ease.LX.For this he cudgelled his brains,At length this happy thoughtOccurr'd,—which, with small cost and pains,He to perfection brought.LXI.He found two yard-long sticks would do,Which might from westward come,When each had been well fixed toIt'stintinabulum.LXII.Two strings, for ropes,[182]a name too great,From these sticks might depend,And by two holes made thro' the slate,Into the church descend.LXIII.That he, when sitting on his breech,(In either hand a string)By giving an alternate twitch,With ease might make them ring.LXIV.A great example here is seen,Of the mechanic-power,Nor has there yet adopted beenA better to this hour.LXV.Here critics may cry out with spite,Lord! how these verses jingle!But, otherwise, how could I writeOn bells that only tingle?

ISING the church ofArmthorpetown,[174]That stands upon a hill,And all who in the Fly[175]come downMay see it if they will.

ISING the church ofArmthorpetown,[174]

That stands upon a hill,

And all who in the Fly[175]come down

May see it if they will.

II.

But there to them it doth appearAn humble barn, tho' neat,I wish the rector every yearHad it choke full of wheat.

But there to them it doth appear

An humble barn, tho' neat,

I wish the rector every year

Had it choke full of wheat.

III.

I only mean, supposing itA very barn indeed;I'm sure he'd give thereof what's fitTo them who stand in need.

I only mean, supposing it

A very barn indeed;

I'm sure he'd give thereof what's fit

To them who stand in need.

IV.

The steeple then, you may presume,Is not like that ofGrantham,For bells and chimes there was no room,And now they do not want them.

The steeple then, you may presume,

Is not like that ofGrantham,

For bells and chimes there was no room,

And now they do not want them.

In vain the Quakers it abuse,And with their canting flout it,Calling this church a steeple-house,There's no such thing about it.

In vain the Quakers it abuse,

And with their canting flout it,

Calling this church a steeple-house,

There's no such thing about it.

VI.

Altho' no steeple doth appear,Yet bells they're not without,High hung in air, aloft they are,But where? Ah! there's the doubt.

Altho' no steeple doth appear,

Yet bells they're not without,

High hung in air, aloft they are,

But where? Ah! there's the doubt.

VII.

How this can be, for you to tellRequires somewhat to think on;And yet they serve the folks as wellAs would Great Tom of Lincoln.

How this can be, for you to tell

Requires somewhat to think on;

And yet they serve the folks as well

As would Great Tom of Lincoln.

VIII.

The architect, a silly man,(And artist too—God wot;)Some say, when up he drew his plan,The steeple he forgot.

The architect, a silly man,

(And artist too—God wot;)

Some say, when up he drew his plan,

The steeple he forgot.

IX.

But that was not the cause of it,Our wiser rector fancies;'Twas not the builder's lack of wit,But want of the finances.

But that was not the cause of it,

Our wiser rector fancies;

'Twas not the builder's lack of wit,

But want of the finances.

To rectify this great neglect,Before the cash was spent all,An useful thing he did erect,Both cheap and ornamental.

To rectify this great neglect,

Before the cash was spent all,

An useful thing he did erect,

Both cheap and ornamental.

XI.

For he a simple wall did raiseUpon the west-end gable,And I must own, unto his praise,It stands yet firm and stable.

For he a simple wall did raise

Upon the west-end gable,

And I must own, unto his praise,

It stands yet firm and stable.

XII.

And of his skill to give some proof,Which he'd not done before:He built it up above the roof,Some six feet high or more.

And of his skill to give some proof,

Which he'd not done before:

He built it up above the roof,

Some six feet high or more.

XIII.

Of this, from north to south th' extentWas full as long as high,For doing which his wise intentI'll tell you bye and bye.

Of this, from north to south th' extent

Was full as long as high,

For doing which his wise intent

I'll tell you bye and bye.

XIV.

Two holes quite thro' this wall were seenLike windows in a garret,That two small bells might hang therein,For passengers to stare at.

Two holes quite thro' this wall were seen

Like windows in a garret,

That two small bells might hang therein,

For passengers to stare at.

XV.

But how to get these bells—alas!Much jangling did create,Much ale, and much tobacco, wasConsum'd in the debate.

But how to get these bells—alas!

Much jangling did create,

Much ale, and much tobacco, was

Consum'd in the debate.

XVI.

One wiser than the rest propos'dTo draw up a petition,BeggingSir George[176]would be dispos'dTo pity their condition.

One wiser than the rest propos'd

To draw up a petition,

BeggingSir George[176]would be dispos'd

To pity their condition.

XVII.

That he would kindly grant this boon,Unto his tenants all,The dinner-bell that calls at noonThe vassals to his hall.

That he would kindly grant this boon,

Unto his tenants all,

The dinner-bell that calls at noon

The vassals to his hall.

XVIII.

When to sir George they did impart,How much they stood in need,He said he'd give't, with all his heart,And sent it them with speed.

When to sir George they did impart,

How much they stood in need,

He said he'd give't, with all his heart,

And sent it them with speed.

XIX.

Their need by this being half supply'd,They wanted now but one,But that, with judgment great, they cried,Should have a shriller tone.

Their need by this being half supply'd,

They wanted now but one,

But that, with judgment great, they cried,

Should have a shriller tone.

XX.

One thought upon a tavern bell,Another on a miller's,A third thought one would do as wellThat tinkles on a thill-horse.

One thought upon a tavern bell,

Another on a miller's,

A third thought one would do as well

That tinkles on a thill-horse.

XXI.

"A fine one's in the Angel bar,"[177]Says one, "and I can steal it,If on the bible you'll all swearYou never will reveal it."

"A fine one's in the Angel bar,"[177]

Says one, "and I can steal it,

If on the bible you'll all swear

You never will reveal it."

XXII.

The clerk, a simple tailor, cry'dHe'd never touch the string,Or whatsoever else they ty'dTo the accursed thing.

The clerk, a simple tailor, cry'd

He'd never touch the string,

Or whatsoever else they ty'd

To the accursed thing.

XXIII.

The tailor's speech did for some timePut all in great combustion,They said it was no greater crimeTo steal a bell than fustian.

The tailor's speech did for some time

Put all in great combustion,

They said it was no greater crime

To steal a bell than fustian.

XXIV.

Here they had stuck, had it not beenFor what I shall relate,A gift to them quite unforeseenWhich was decreed by fate.

Here they had stuck, had it not been

For what I shall relate,

A gift to them quite unforeseen

Which was decreed by fate.

XXV.

A neighb'ring corp'rate town,[178]who foundTheir crier's bell too small,To get one with a deeper soundHad call'd a common-hall.

A neighb'ring corp'rate town,[178]who found

Their crier's bell too small,

To get one with a deeper sound

Had call'd a common-hall.

XXVI.

The mayor, for th' honor of the place,Commendably was zealous,And of whate'er might it disgraceWas equally as jealous.

The mayor, for th' honor of the place,

Commendably was zealous,

And of whate'er might it disgrace

Was equally as jealous.

XXVII.

Said, "Gentlemen and brethren dear,You need not now be toldThat this here town for many a yearLook'd very mean and old.

Said, "Gentlemen and brethren dear,

You need not now be told

That this here town for many a year

Look'd very mean and old.

XXVIII.

"But so magnificent is grown,As know ye all full well;That quality from London townChoose here to come and dwell.

"But so magnificent is grown,

As know ye all full well;

That quality from London town

Choose here to come and dwell.

XXIX.

"Our Mansion-house, inside and out,So elegant doth rise,That, in the nation round-about,'Tis mention'd with surprize.

"Our Mansion-house, inside and out,

So elegant doth rise,

That, in the nation round-about,

'Tis mention'd with surprize.

XXX.

"Of precious time 'twould be a loss,Should I make long preamblesOf pavements, lamps, and butter-cross,And of our butchers' shambles.

"Of precious time 'twould be a loss,

Should I make long preambles

Of pavements, lamps, and butter-cross,

And of our butchers' shambles.

XXXI.

"But here the new-built gaol, I own,[179]Ought not to be forgotten,A sweeter place in all the townNo one would choose to rot in.

"But here the new-built gaol, I own,[179]

Ought not to be forgotten,

A sweeter place in all the town

No one would choose to rot in.

XXXII.

"Yet notwithstanding all our pains,Our judgment and expence,Yet wanting much, one thing remainsOf weighty consequence.

"Yet notwithstanding all our pains,

Our judgment and expence,

Yet wanting much, one thing remains

Of weighty consequence.

XXXIII.

"For what avails our large gilt mace,Our full-furr'd purple gowns?Our scarlet fiddlers' noted race,And lord-like pack of hounds?[180]

"For what avails our large gilt mace,

Our full-furr'd purple gowns?

Our scarlet fiddlers' noted race,

And lord-like pack of hounds?[180]

XXXIV.

"What, tho' our huntsman's clothed well,In coat of grass-green plush,[181]Whene'er I see our crier's bell,I vow it makes me blush.

"What, tho' our huntsman's clothed well,

In coat of grass-green plush,[181]

Whene'er I see our crier's bell,

I vow it makes me blush.

XXXV.

"Whene'er we're sitting in this hall,The sound on't makes me sick,For 'tis a great burlesque on allOur body politic.

"Whene'er we're sitting in this hall,

The sound on't makes me sick,

For 'tis a great burlesque on all

Our body politic.

XXXVI.

"No dignity's thereby convey'd,No harmony decorous,I marvel much no order's madeIt shan't be rung before us.

"No dignity's thereby convey'd,

No harmony decorous,

I marvel much no order's made

It shan't be rung before us.

XXXVII.

"Then, gentlemen, with decent pride,At this our solemn sitting,Let us agree that we provideA bell our town befitting."

"Then, gentlemen, with decent pride,

At this our solemn sitting,

Let us agree that we provide

A bell our town befitting."

XXXVIII.

The court agreed; a bell was bought,With more melodious tongue,How much it cost I have forgot,But to this day 'tis rung.

The court agreed; a bell was bought,

With more melodious tongue,

How much it cost I have forgot,

But to this day 'tis rung.

XXXIX.

Th' offensive bell was laid aside,Like statesmen when discarded,And in a stable did reside,Entirely disregarded.

Th' offensive bell was laid aside,

Like statesmen when discarded,

And in a stable did reside,

Entirely disregarded.

XL.

Soon did the news of this event,Reach Armthorpe you may swear.From whence two leading men were sentTo treat with Mr. Mayor.

Soon did the news of this event,

Reach Armthorpe you may swear.

From whence two leading men were sent

To treat with Mr. Mayor.

XLI.

Whom they approach'd with awkward bow,And then with sly addressThey told his worship, "That as how—They were in great distress."

Whom they approach'd with awkward bow,

And then with sly address

They told his worship, "That as how—

They were in great distress."

XLII.

Said,—"A great work we have in hand,In which we've been too rash,For now it all is at a stand,Only for want of cash.

Said,—"A great work we have in hand,

In which we've been too rash,

For now it all is at a stand,

Only for want of cash.

XLIII.

"A bell we want, a small one too.Would make our business right,A second-handed bell would do,Did we know where to buy't."

"A bell we want, a small one too.

Would make our business right,

A second-handed bell would do,

Did we know where to buy't."

XLIV.

By this time he smelt out their drift,And gen'rous as a king,Said,—"We have one—to you we'll giv't,—'Twill be the very thing.

By this time he smelt out their drift,

And gen'rous as a king,

Said,—"We have one—to you we'll giv't,—

'Twill be the very thing.

XLV.

"And I'm well pleased, I do protest,To save you so much charge,But, I suppose, tho' you know best,Our bell will be too large."

"And I'm well pleased, I do protest,

To save you so much charge,

But, I suppose, tho' you know best,

Our bell will be too large."

XLVI.

The bell was fetch'd at his command,(A sight to them most pleasing,)Of which to them, with but one hand,He livery gave and seizin.

The bell was fetch'd at his command,

(A sight to them most pleasing,)

Of which to them, with but one hand,

He livery gave and seizin.

XLVII.

The joy they did at this conceiveThey could not well conceal,For as they bow'd, and took their leave,They rang a tingling peal.

The joy they did at this conceive

They could not well conceal,

For as they bow'd, and took their leave,

They rang a tingling peal.

XLVIII.

Full fast then homeward they did hie,(Almost as quick as thought,)Nor was their speed retarded byThe weight of what they brought.

Full fast then homeward they did hie,

(Almost as quick as thought,)

Nor was their speed retarded by

The weight of what they brought.

XLIX.

But when the town they did descry,They rung their bell aloud,Which their success did signifyTo the desponding crowd.

But when the town they did descry,

They rung their bell aloud,

Which their success did signify

To the desponding crowd.

The townsmen bless'd at the event,And at their hearts full glad,Quickly return'd the compliment,By ringing that they had.

The townsmen bless'd at the event,

And at their hearts full glad,

Quickly return'd the compliment,

By ringing that they had.

LI.

So when a ship a fort salutes,No sooner have they done,The fort, to obviate all disputes,Returns them gun for gun.

So when a ship a fort salutes,

No sooner have they done,

The fort, to obviate all disputes,

Returns them gun for gun.

LII.

Jason, who brought the golden fleeceUpon the good ship Argo,Was not more welcom'd home than these,Tho' they did not so far go.

Jason, who brought the golden fleece

Upon the good ship Argo,

Was not more welcom'd home than these,

Tho' they did not so far go.

LIII.

Both bells were in triumphant state,With many a rustic grin,Conducted to the church-yard gateAnd introduc'd therein.

Both bells were in triumphant state,

With many a rustic grin,

Conducted to the church-yard gate

And introduc'd therein.

LIV.

Where in the shade of two spread yews,Like Baucis and Philemon,Was told at large the joyful news,To many a listning yeoman.

Where in the shade of two spread yews,

Like Baucis and Philemon,

Was told at large the joyful news,

To many a listning yeoman.

LV.

There wanted not to mount them highA windlass or a gable,For any lad that stood therebyTo run them up was able.

There wanted not to mount them high

A windlass or a gable,

For any lad that stood thereby

To run them up was able.

LVI.

The bells, at last, were safely hungIn their respective holes,At weddings, where they both are rung,At deaths, the largest tolls.

The bells, at last, were safely hung

In their respective holes,

At weddings, where they both are rung,

At deaths, the largest tolls.

LVII.

At first they various ways did tryIn vain, to make them speak,At last they did succeed, and byUn tour de mechanique.

At first they various ways did try

In vain, to make them speak,

At last they did succeed, and by

Un tour de mechanique.

LVIII.

The clerk right wisely did foresee.By virtue of his post,That he of their good companyWas like to have the most.

The clerk right wisely did foresee.

By virtue of his post,

That he of their good company

Was like to have the most.

LIX.

To keep society alive,And that they still might please,Wish'd that some way he could contrive,T' enjoy the same with ease.

To keep society alive,

And that they still might please,

Wish'd that some way he could contrive,

T' enjoy the same with ease.

LX.

For this he cudgelled his brains,At length this happy thoughtOccurr'd,—which, with small cost and pains,He to perfection brought.

For this he cudgelled his brains,

At length this happy thought

Occurr'd,—which, with small cost and pains,

He to perfection brought.

LXI.

He found two yard-long sticks would do,Which might from westward come,When each had been well fixed toIt'stintinabulum.

He found two yard-long sticks would do,

Which might from westward come,

When each had been well fixed to

It'stintinabulum.

LXII.

Two strings, for ropes,[182]a name too great,From these sticks might depend,And by two holes made thro' the slate,Into the church descend.

Two strings, for ropes,[182]a name too great,

From these sticks might depend,

And by two holes made thro' the slate,

Into the church descend.

LXIII.

That he, when sitting on his breech,(In either hand a string)By giving an alternate twitch,With ease might make them ring.

That he, when sitting on his breech,

(In either hand a string)

By giving an alternate twitch,

With ease might make them ring.

LXIV.

A great example here is seen,Of the mechanic-power,Nor has there yet adopted beenA better to this hour.

A great example here is seen,

Of the mechanic-power,

Nor has there yet adopted been

A better to this hour.

LXV.

Here critics may cry out with spite,Lord! how these verses jingle!But, otherwise, how could I writeOn bells that only tingle?

Here critics may cry out with spite,

Lord! how these verses jingle!

But, otherwise, how could I write

On bells that only tingle?

Theinhabitants of the Yorkshire coast were frequently, about the year 1779, thrown into a state of alarm by that intrepid Anglo-American buccanier, Paul Jones. This man had formerly been in the service of the earl of Selkirk, whence he was expelled with disgrace, and having repaired to America he volunteered to make a descent on the British coast. Being entrusted with the command of a privateer, he effected a landing at Whitehaven, and set fire to some shipping in the arbour. He sailed for Scotland, where he landed on the estate of the earl of Selkirk, and plundered his lordship's house of all the plate. These services insured his promotion, and procured him the command of the Bon Homme Richard, and the Alliance, each of 40 guns; the Pallas, of 32 guns; and the Vengeance, armed brig. With this force he made many valuable captures, insulted the coast of Ireland, and even threatened the city of Edinburgh. On Monday, the 20th Sept. 1779, an express arrived at Bridlington, from the bailiffs of Scarborough, with intelligence that an enemy was cruising off the coast. On Thursday a valuable fleet of British merchantmen from the Baltic, under the convoy of the Serapis, Capt. Pearson, of 44 guns, and the Countess of Scarborough, Capt. Piercy, of 22 guns, hove in sight, and were chasedby the enemy. The first care of Capt. Pearson was to place himself between the enemy and his convoy; by which manœuvre he enabled the whole of the merchantmen to escape into the port of Scarborough. About half-past seven o'clock the thunder of the cannon announced that an engagement had commenced; the battle raged with unabated fury for two hours, when at length Capt. Pearson, who was engaged by the two largest of the enemy's ships, was compelled to surrender. Capt. Piercy, after a long and gallant defence, was in the end obliged to strike to the Pallas. The enemy purchased the victory at a prodigious price, more than 300 men being killed or wounded in the Richard alone, which vessel received so much injury, that she sunk next day with many of the wounded on board.

Capt. Pearson afterwards received the honour of knighthood; and the freedom of the borough of Scarborough was presented to him and his gallant colleague, Capt. Piercy, in two boxes of "heart of oak," ornamented with silver.

Come each loyal Briton of courage so bold,As annals can show you would ne'er be controul'd,It vexes my patience I'm sure night and day,To think how that traitor Paul Jones got away.Derry down, &c.As soon as this rebel near our shore did come,From all parts of the town the inhabitants run,They all stood amazed his fire to see,But this never daunted our brave militia.Our two noble colonels they straight gave command,Brave Lowther[184]and Fleming,[185]two parliament men,They marched thro' the ranks, and to the men did say,"Brave boys, have your arms in good order, we pray."Our brave officers all, of every degree,Took care every man provided should be,With powder and ball, then each took command,Said, "Boys, for the honour of Cumberland."Then strait we on guard to the Spaws sent with speed,To prevent Paul's landing, in case there was need;They call him Paul Jones, but his name is John Paul,And if ever we catch him he shall pay for all.The Serapis and Countess of Scarbrough brave,Five hours and a half they did bravely behave;Only two against six the whole time in the fight,And so with reluctance was forcèd to strike.In Whitehaven this brat served his time to the sea,He was born and bred in the shire of Galloway;He liv'd with lord Selkirk a servant some time,But committing murder to goal was confined.He was try'd for the same, and condemned to die,But broke his confinement, by means cunningly;A traitor he stands for th' American cause,And join'd with the French for to pull down our laws.The inhabitants of Scarbrough to work strait did fall,In order to protect them from all such as Paul,And rais'd up a volunteer company with speed,To defend the town in case there was need.So now they are provided with every thing new,Their hearts they are good, and their clothing is blue,They'll join our militia without dread or fear,For to flog Jackey Paul, should he chance to come here.I wish every city and town would with speed,Raise a volunteer company in time of such need;To assist our militia round the British land,And imitate Scarbrough who has laid them a plan.So here is a health for to drink great and small,Success to our militia and volunteers all,May they all prove loyal and true to their king,And all such as Paul in a halter soon swing.

Come each loyal Briton of courage so bold,As annals can show you would ne'er be controul'd,It vexes my patience I'm sure night and day,To think how that traitor Paul Jones got away.Derry down, &c.

Come each loyal Briton of courage so bold,

As annals can show you would ne'er be controul'd,

It vexes my patience I'm sure night and day,

To think how that traitor Paul Jones got away.

Derry down, &c.

As soon as this rebel near our shore did come,From all parts of the town the inhabitants run,They all stood amazed his fire to see,But this never daunted our brave militia.

As soon as this rebel near our shore did come,

From all parts of the town the inhabitants run,

They all stood amazed his fire to see,

But this never daunted our brave militia.

Our two noble colonels they straight gave command,Brave Lowther[184]and Fleming,[185]two parliament men,They marched thro' the ranks, and to the men did say,"Brave boys, have your arms in good order, we pray."

Our two noble colonels they straight gave command,

Brave Lowther[184]and Fleming,[185]two parliament men,

They marched thro' the ranks, and to the men did say,

"Brave boys, have your arms in good order, we pray."

Our brave officers all, of every degree,Took care every man provided should be,With powder and ball, then each took command,Said, "Boys, for the honour of Cumberland."

Our brave officers all, of every degree,

Took care every man provided should be,

With powder and ball, then each took command,

Said, "Boys, for the honour of Cumberland."

Then strait we on guard to the Spaws sent with speed,To prevent Paul's landing, in case there was need;They call him Paul Jones, but his name is John Paul,And if ever we catch him he shall pay for all.

Then strait we on guard to the Spaws sent with speed,

To prevent Paul's landing, in case there was need;

They call him Paul Jones, but his name is John Paul,

And if ever we catch him he shall pay for all.

The Serapis and Countess of Scarbrough brave,Five hours and a half they did bravely behave;Only two against six the whole time in the fight,And so with reluctance was forcèd to strike.

The Serapis and Countess of Scarbrough brave,

Five hours and a half they did bravely behave;

Only two against six the whole time in the fight,

And so with reluctance was forcèd to strike.

In Whitehaven this brat served his time to the sea,He was born and bred in the shire of Galloway;He liv'd with lord Selkirk a servant some time,But committing murder to goal was confined.

In Whitehaven this brat served his time to the sea,

He was born and bred in the shire of Galloway;

He liv'd with lord Selkirk a servant some time,

But committing murder to goal was confined.

He was try'd for the same, and condemned to die,But broke his confinement, by means cunningly;A traitor he stands for th' American cause,And join'd with the French for to pull down our laws.

He was try'd for the same, and condemned to die,

But broke his confinement, by means cunningly;

A traitor he stands for th' American cause,

And join'd with the French for to pull down our laws.

The inhabitants of Scarbrough to work strait did fall,In order to protect them from all such as Paul,And rais'd up a volunteer company with speed,To defend the town in case there was need.

The inhabitants of Scarbrough to work strait did fall,

In order to protect them from all such as Paul,

And rais'd up a volunteer company with speed,

To defend the town in case there was need.

So now they are provided with every thing new,Their hearts they are good, and their clothing is blue,They'll join our militia without dread or fear,For to flog Jackey Paul, should he chance to come here.

So now they are provided with every thing new,

Their hearts they are good, and their clothing is blue,

They'll join our militia without dread or fear,

For to flog Jackey Paul, should he chance to come here.

I wish every city and town would with speed,Raise a volunteer company in time of such need;To assist our militia round the British land,And imitate Scarbrough who has laid them a plan.

I wish every city and town would with speed,

Raise a volunteer company in time of such need;

To assist our militia round the British land,

And imitate Scarbrough who has laid them a plan.

So here is a health for to drink great and small,Success to our militia and volunteers all,May they all prove loyal and true to their king,And all such as Paul in a halter soon swing.

So here is a health for to drink great and small,

Success to our militia and volunteers all,

May they all prove loyal and true to their king,

And all such as Paul in a halter soon swing.

Composed by W. S. Kenrick, and J. Burtell.

The Chaserun by the Cleveland Fox Hounds, on Saturday the 29th day of January, 1785.

Ye hardy sons of chace give ear,All listen to my song;'Tis of a hunt perform'd this year,That will be talk'd of long,When a hunting we do go, oho, oho, oho,And a hunting we will go, oho, oho, oho,And a hunting we will go, oho, oho, oho,With the huntsman, Tally, oh.On Weary Bank, ye know the same,Unkenell'd was the fox;Who led us, and our hounds of fame,O'er mountains, moors, and rocks,When a hunting we do go, &c.'Twas Craythorn first swift reynard made,To Limton then did fly;Full speed pursu'd each hearty blade,And join'd in jovial cry,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.To Worsal next he took his flight,Escape us he would fain;To Picton next with all his might,To Craythorn back again,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.To Weary Bank then takes his course,Thro' Fanny Bell's gill flies;In Seymour Car strains all his force,His utmost vigour tries,With the huntsman Tally oh, &c.To Tanton, Nunthorp, next he flies,O'er Langbrough Rig goes he;He scours like light'ning o'er the meads,More swift fox could not be,Nor with a huntsman better match'd, &c.To Newton, then to Roseberry,To Hutton Lockerass gill;To Lownsdale, o'er Court Moor go we,From thence to Kildale Mill,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.By this our zeal was not subdu'd,All crosses were in vain;To Kildale reynard we pursu'd,To Lownsdale back again,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.By Percy Cross, and Sleddale too,And Pilly Rig full fast,As fox could run to Skylderskew,And Lockwood Beck he past,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.By Freebrough Hill he takes his way,By Danby Lodge also;With ardour we pursue our prey,As swift as hounds could go,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.By Coal Pits and o'er Stonegate Moor,To Scayling reynard ran;Was such a fox e'er seen before?His equal show who can!When a hunting we do go, &c.To Barnby now by Ugthorpe Mill,And Mickleby likewise;To Ellerby, to Hinderwell,Still stubborn reynard flies,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.The huntsman now with other three,[187]And reynard you'll suppose;Ten couple of hounds of high degree,One field now did inclose,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.But now our chace draws near an end,No longer we'll intrude;For on the cliff, rejoice, my friend,Swift reynard there we view'd,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.Sure such a chace must wonder raise,And had I time to sing,The huntsman's deeds who merits praise,Would make the vallies ring,When a hunting we do go, &c.Come, sportsmen, all your glasses fill,And let the toast go round;May each foxhunter flourish stillIn health and strength abound,When a hunting we do go, &c.

Ye hardy sons of chace give ear,

All listen to my song;

'Tis of a hunt perform'd this year,

That will be talk'd of long,

When a hunting we do go, oho, oho, oho,

And a hunting we will go, oho, oho, oho,

With the huntsman, Tally, oh.

On Weary Bank, ye know the same,Unkenell'd was the fox;Who led us, and our hounds of fame,O'er mountains, moors, and rocks,When a hunting we do go, &c.

On Weary Bank, ye know the same,

Unkenell'd was the fox;

Who led us, and our hounds of fame,

O'er mountains, moors, and rocks,

When a hunting we do go, &c.

'Twas Craythorn first swift reynard made,To Limton then did fly;Full speed pursu'd each hearty blade,And join'd in jovial cry,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

'Twas Craythorn first swift reynard made,

To Limton then did fly;

Full speed pursu'd each hearty blade,

And join'd in jovial cry,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

To Worsal next he took his flight,Escape us he would fain;To Picton next with all his might,To Craythorn back again,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

To Worsal next he took his flight,

Escape us he would fain;

To Picton next with all his might,

To Craythorn back again,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

To Weary Bank then takes his course,Thro' Fanny Bell's gill flies;In Seymour Car strains all his force,His utmost vigour tries,With the huntsman Tally oh, &c.

To Weary Bank then takes his course,

Thro' Fanny Bell's gill flies;

In Seymour Car strains all his force,

His utmost vigour tries,

With the huntsman Tally oh, &c.

To Tanton, Nunthorp, next he flies,O'er Langbrough Rig goes he;He scours like light'ning o'er the meads,More swift fox could not be,Nor with a huntsman better match'd, &c.

To Tanton, Nunthorp, next he flies,

O'er Langbrough Rig goes he;

He scours like light'ning o'er the meads,

More swift fox could not be,

Nor with a huntsman better match'd, &c.

To Newton, then to Roseberry,To Hutton Lockerass gill;To Lownsdale, o'er Court Moor go we,From thence to Kildale Mill,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

To Newton, then to Roseberry,

To Hutton Lockerass gill;

To Lownsdale, o'er Court Moor go we,

From thence to Kildale Mill,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By this our zeal was not subdu'd,All crosses were in vain;To Kildale reynard we pursu'd,To Lownsdale back again,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By this our zeal was not subdu'd,

All crosses were in vain;

To Kildale reynard we pursu'd,

To Lownsdale back again,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By Percy Cross, and Sleddale too,And Pilly Rig full fast,As fox could run to Skylderskew,And Lockwood Beck he past,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By Percy Cross, and Sleddale too,

And Pilly Rig full fast,

As fox could run to Skylderskew,

And Lockwood Beck he past,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By Freebrough Hill he takes his way,By Danby Lodge also;With ardour we pursue our prey,As swift as hounds could go,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By Freebrough Hill he takes his way,

By Danby Lodge also;

With ardour we pursue our prey,

As swift as hounds could go,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

By Coal Pits and o'er Stonegate Moor,To Scayling reynard ran;Was such a fox e'er seen before?His equal show who can!When a hunting we do go, &c.

By Coal Pits and o'er Stonegate Moor,

To Scayling reynard ran;

Was such a fox e'er seen before?

His equal show who can!

When a hunting we do go, &c.

To Barnby now by Ugthorpe Mill,And Mickleby likewise;To Ellerby, to Hinderwell,Still stubborn reynard flies,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

To Barnby now by Ugthorpe Mill,

And Mickleby likewise;

To Ellerby, to Hinderwell,

Still stubborn reynard flies,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

The huntsman now with other three,[187]And reynard you'll suppose;Ten couple of hounds of high degree,One field now did inclose,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

The huntsman now with other three,[187]

And reynard you'll suppose;

Ten couple of hounds of high degree,

One field now did inclose,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

But now our chace draws near an end,No longer we'll intrude;For on the cliff, rejoice, my friend,Swift reynard there we view'd,With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

But now our chace draws near an end,

No longer we'll intrude;

For on the cliff, rejoice, my friend,

Swift reynard there we view'd,

With the huntsman Tally ho, &c.

Sure such a chace must wonder raise,And had I time to sing,The huntsman's deeds who merits praise,Would make the vallies ring,When a hunting we do go, &c.

Sure such a chace must wonder raise,

And had I time to sing,

The huntsman's deeds who merits praise,

Would make the vallies ring,

When a hunting we do go, &c.

Come, sportsmen, all your glasses fill,And let the toast go round;May each foxhunter flourish stillIn health and strength abound,When a hunting we do go, &c.

Come, sportsmen, all your glasses fill,

And let the toast go round;

May each foxhunter flourish still

In health and strength abound,

When a hunting we do go, &c.

AH iz i' truth a country youth,Neean us'd teea Lunnon fashions;Yet vartue guides, an' still presides,Ower all mah steps an' passions.Neea coortly leear, bud all sinceere,Neea bribe shall ivver blinnd me;If thoo can like a Yorkshire tike,A rooague thoo'll nivver finnd me.Thof envy's tung, seea slimlee hung,Wad lee aboot oor county,Neea men o' t' eearth booast greter wurth,Or mare extend ther boounty.Oor northern breeze wi' uz agrees,An' does for wark weel fit uz;I' public cares, an' luve affairs,Wi' honour we acquit uz.Seea gret a maund is ne'er confiand,Tiv onny shire or nation;They geean meeast praise weea weel displaysA leearned iddicasion.Whahl rancour rolls i' lahtle souls,By shallo views dissarning,They're nobbut wise 'at owlus prizeGud manners, sense, and leearnin.[188]

AH iz i' truth a country youth,

Neean us'd teea Lunnon fashions;

Yet vartue guides, an' still presides,

Ower all mah steps an' passions.

Neea coortly leear, bud all sinceere,

Neea bribe shall ivver blinnd me;

If thoo can like a Yorkshire tike,

A rooague thoo'll nivver finnd me.

Thof envy's tung, seea slimlee hung,Wad lee aboot oor county,Neea men o' t' eearth booast greter wurth,Or mare extend ther boounty.Oor northern breeze wi' uz agrees,An' does for wark weel fit uz;I' public cares, an' luve affairs,Wi' honour we acquit uz.

Thof envy's tung, seea slimlee hung,

Wad lee aboot oor county,

Neea men o' t' eearth booast greter wurth,

Or mare extend ther boounty.

Oor northern breeze wi' uz agrees,

An' does for wark weel fit uz;

I' public cares, an' luve affairs,

Wi' honour we acquit uz.

Seea gret a maund is ne'er confiand,Tiv onny shire or nation;They geean meeast praise weea weel displaysA leearned iddicasion.Whahl rancour rolls i' lahtle souls,By shallo views dissarning,They're nobbut wise 'at owlus prizeGud manners, sense, and leearnin.[188]

Seea gret a maund is ne'er confiand,

Tiv onny shire or nation;

They geean meeast praise weea weel displays

A leearned iddicasion.

Whahl rancour rolls i' lahtle souls,

By shallo views dissarning,

They're nobbut wise 'at owlus prize

Gud manners, sense, and leearnin.[188]

Whowas hung at York for robbing the mail on the 14th of April, 1792.

To you my dear companions,Accept these lines I pray;A most impartial trialHas occupied this day.'Tis from your dying BroughtonTo show his wretched fate,I hope you'll make reformationBefore it is too late.The loss of your companionDoes grieve my heart full sore,And I know that my fair EllenWill my wretched fate deplore.I think on those happy hoursThat now are past and gone,Now poor unhappy BroughtonDoes wish he had ne'er been born.One day in Saint James'sWith large and swelling pride,Each man had a flash womanWalking by his side;At night we did retireUnto some ball or play,In these unhappy pleasuresHow time did pass away.Brought up in wicked habit,Which brings me now in fear,How little did I thinkMy time would be so near;For now I'm overtaken,Condemned and cast to die,Exposed a sad exampleTo all that does pass by.O that I had but goneTo some far-distant clime,A gibbet post, poor Broughton,Would never have been mine;But alas, for all such wishes,Such wishes are in vain,Alas! it is but follyAnd madness to complain.One night I tried to slumberAnd close my weeping eyes,I heard a foot approachWhich struck me with surprise;I listened for a moment,A voice made this reply,"Prepare thyself, Spence Broughton,To-morrow you must die."O awful was the messengerAnd dismal was the sound,Like a man that was distractedI rolled upon the ground;My tears they fell in torrents,With anguish I was torn;I am poor unhappy Broughton,I wish I had ne'er been born.Farewell, my wife and children,To you I do bid adieu,I never should have come to thisHad I staid at home with you.I hope thro' my RedeemerTo gain the happy shore,Farewell! farewell! farewell for ever,Spence Broughton soon will be no more.

To you my dear companions,

Accept these lines I pray;

A most impartial trial

Has occupied this day.

'Tis from your dying Broughton

To show his wretched fate,

I hope you'll make reformation

Before it is too late.

The loss of your companionDoes grieve my heart full sore,And I know that my fair EllenWill my wretched fate deplore.I think on those happy hoursThat now are past and gone,Now poor unhappy BroughtonDoes wish he had ne'er been born.

The loss of your companion

Does grieve my heart full sore,

And I know that my fair Ellen

Will my wretched fate deplore.

I think on those happy hours

That now are past and gone,

Now poor unhappy Broughton

Does wish he had ne'er been born.

One day in Saint James'sWith large and swelling pride,Each man had a flash womanWalking by his side;At night we did retireUnto some ball or play,In these unhappy pleasuresHow time did pass away.

One day in Saint James's

With large and swelling pride,

Each man had a flash woman

Walking by his side;

At night we did retire

Unto some ball or play,

In these unhappy pleasures

How time did pass away.

Brought up in wicked habit,Which brings me now in fear,How little did I thinkMy time would be so near;For now I'm overtaken,Condemned and cast to die,Exposed a sad exampleTo all that does pass by.

Brought up in wicked habit,

Which brings me now in fear,

How little did I think

My time would be so near;

For now I'm overtaken,

Condemned and cast to die,

Exposed a sad example

To all that does pass by.

O that I had but goneTo some far-distant clime,A gibbet post, poor Broughton,Would never have been mine;But alas, for all such wishes,Such wishes are in vain,Alas! it is but follyAnd madness to complain.

O that I had but gone

To some far-distant clime,

A gibbet post, poor Broughton,

Would never have been mine;

But alas, for all such wishes,

Such wishes are in vain,

Alas! it is but folly

And madness to complain.

One night I tried to slumberAnd close my weeping eyes,I heard a foot approachWhich struck me with surprise;I listened for a moment,A voice made this reply,"Prepare thyself, Spence Broughton,To-morrow you must die."

One night I tried to slumber

And close my weeping eyes,

I heard a foot approach

Which struck me with surprise;

I listened for a moment,

A voice made this reply,

"Prepare thyself, Spence Broughton,

To-morrow you must die."

O awful was the messengerAnd dismal was the sound,Like a man that was distractedI rolled upon the ground;My tears they fell in torrents,With anguish I was torn;I am poor unhappy Broughton,I wish I had ne'er been born.

O awful was the messenger

And dismal was the sound,

Like a man that was distracted

I rolled upon the ground;

My tears they fell in torrents,

With anguish I was torn;

I am poor unhappy Broughton,

I wish I had ne'er been born.

Farewell, my wife and children,To you I do bid adieu,I never should have come to thisHad I staid at home with you.I hope thro' my RedeemerTo gain the happy shore,Farewell! farewell! farewell for ever,Spence Broughton soon will be no more.

Farewell, my wife and children,

To you I do bid adieu,

I never should have come to this

Had I staid at home with you.

I hope thro' my Redeemer

To gain the happy shore,

Farewell! farewell! farewell for ever,

Spence Broughton soon will be no more.

In Three Parts.

Part I.Showing how a noble knight was riding by a farmer's house when his wife was in travail. The knight, knowing the signs and planets, looking on a book, read that the farmer's daughter that was born that hour was to be his bride. And how the cruel knight got the child from her parents, and flung it into a river; but, by good fortune, the child was taken up by a poor fisherman alive, who brought her home and kept her till she was eleven years old.

Part II.How the fisherman was in an inn with some gentlemen, the knight being one of the company; and seeing this young girl come in, he asked the fisherman if she was his own daughter, who told the storyof his taking her up, &c. How the knight got the poor girl away, and contrived her death a second time, and how he was prevented.

Part III.How the knight contrived her death the third time; but her life was saved by showing the knight a ring that he flung into the sea, which the knight seeing, found it was in vain to strive against fortune, so married her.

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