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Poems, &c. (1790) - Wherein It Is Attempted To Describe Certain Views Of Nature And Of Rustic Manners; And Also, To Point Out, In Some Instances, The Different Influence Which The Same Circumstances Produce On Different Characters

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, &c. (1790), by Joanna Baillie
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Title: Poems, &c. (1790) Wherein It Is Attempted To Describe Certain Views Of Nature And Of Rustic Manners; And
Also, To Point Out, In Some Instances, The Different Influence Which The Same Circumstances Produce On Different
Characters
Author: Joanna Baillie
Release Date: January 6, 2005 [EBook #14617]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS, &C. (1790) ***
Produced by David Starner, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team
POEMS, &c.
POEMS;
WHEREIN IT IS ATTEMPTED TO DESCRIBE
CERTAIN VIEWS OF NATURE
AND OF
RUSTIC MANNERS;
AND ALSO,
TO POINT OUT, IN SOME INSTANCES, THE DIFFERENT INFLUENCE WHICH THE SAME CIRCUMSTANCES PRODUCE ON DIFFERENT CHARACTERS.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, SAINT PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD.
MDCCXC. A WINTER DAY.
The cock, warm roosting 'midst his feather'd dames,
Now lifts his beak and snuffs the morning air,
Stretches his neck and claps his heavy wings,
Gives three hoarse crows, and glad his talk is done;
Low, chuckling, turns himself upon the roost,
Then nestles down again amongst his mates.
The lab'ring hind, who on his bed of straw,
Beneath his home-made coverings, coarse, but warm,
Lock'd in ...
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Title: Poems, &c. (1790) Wherein It Is Attempted To Describe Certain Views Of Nature And Of Rustic Manners; And Also, To Point Out, In Some Instances, The Different Influence Which The Same Circumstances Produce On Different Characters
Author: Joanna Baillie Release Date: January 6, 2005 [EBook #14617] Language: English
POEMS; WHEREIN IT IS ATTEMPTED TO DESCRIBE CERTAIN VIEWS OF NATURE AND OF RUSTIC MANNERS; AND ALSO, TO POINT OUT, IN SOMEINSTANCES, THEDIFFERENT INFLUENCEWHICH THESAMECIRCUMSTANCES PRODUCEON DIFFERENT CHARACTERS.
POEMS, &c.
Produced by David Starner, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS, &C. (1790) ***
LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, SAINT PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD. MDCCXC.
A WINTER DAY.
The cock, warm roosting 'midst his feather'd dames, Now lifts his beak and snuffs the morning air, Stretches his neck and claps his heavy wings, Gives three hoarse crows, and glad his talk is done; Low, chuckling, turns himself upon the roost, Then nestles down again amongst his mates. The lab'ring hind, who on his bed of straw, Beneath his home-made coverings, coarse, but warm, Lock'd in the kindly arms of her who spun them, Dreams of the gain that next year's crop should bring; Or at some fair disposing of his wool, Or by some lucky and unlook'd-for bargain. Fills his skin purse with heaps of tempting gold, Now wakes from sleep at the unwelcome call, And finds himself but just the same poor man As when he went to rest.— He hears the blast against his window beat, And wishes to himself he were a lord, That he might lie a-bed.— He rubs his eyes, and stretches out his arms; Heigh ho! heigh ho! he drawls with gaping mouth, Then most unwillingly creeps out of bed, And without looking-glass puts on his clothes. With rueful face he blows the smother'd fire, And lights his candle at the red'ning coal; First sees that all be right amongst his cattle, Then hies him to the barn with heavy tread, Printing his footsteps on the new fall'n snow. From out the heap of corn he pulls his sheaves, Dislodging the poor red-breast from his shelter, Where all the live-long night he slept secure; But now afrighted, with uncertain flight He flutters round the walls, to seek some hole, At which he may escape out to the frost. And now the flail, high whirling o'er his head, Descends with force upon the jumping sheave, Whilst every rugged wall, and neighboring cot Re-echoes back the noise of his strokes.
 The fam'ly cares call next upon the wife To quit her mean but comfortable bed. And first she stirs the fire, and blows the flame, Then from her heap of sticks, for winter stor'd, An armful brings; loud crackling as they burn, Thick fly the red sparks upward to the roof, While slowly mounts the smoke in wreathy clouds. On goes the seething pot with morning cheer, For which some little wishful hearts await, Who, peeping from the bed-clothes, spy, well pleas'd, The cheery light that blazes on the wall, And bawl for leave to rise.—— Their busy mother knows not where to turn, Her morning work comes now so thick upon her. One she must help to tye his little coat, Unpin his cap, and seck another's shoe. When all is o'er, out to the door they run, With new comb'd sleeky hair, and glist'ning cheeks, Each with some little project in his head. One on the ice must try his new sol'd shoes: To view his well-set trap another hies, In hopes to find some poor unwary bird (No worthless prize) entangled in his snare; Whilst one, less active, with round rosy face, Spreads out his purple fingers to the fire, And peeps, most wishfully, into the pot.
umly,Rests heavyopru ,er dna drgthw moe inrnvag etniad roF.yon rrth g foightin ldi en'Wsdanipserr 'e ondavhee th eht no a ;sllihykT.eh nm duyds the palecolours niaf yltJ,se tsu faladli gerduraskt l ooduyddnr 'd alargs,Inhill nrehtuos eht dnhibem ro flyowsl cnderhewae  armoT,eeiv  lufsuoh  Butelva ehtl teu  sthk ar mnd,Authow a fo gninwad eand eak e blw thw tiecenyrs rdaencla gly kew ne,A,loop nthgil ll;Andraysn th e'edew nildih sti hco sinwlWig erntur edeggcaf fo eay. But for a lioLko sosemhwtag e'o yrolg sih stif lHelehi wletth dihTnetr,h gae'ninighte brr thc ytduola dnsim d eahibe hes his,siniehr ,nhS gusng hootieamsis becnaksa aoh eht teas wry gchhi,Wli dht erbwoo  fev'ry swelling hhgienA,ted dnepeve e vrylealwiy he cde.T shath a wfonioddew urtsd r'teatsch ac e selcici ehT,tocnge the that frir oo,fhThttahcdet epidslnee sww f ehezorpu et nolur aefr ehc  hTnsteas hnd,Atsarhw ,rood eht ot  chirons matilst
 The husbandman lays bye his heavy flail, And to the house returns, where on him wait His smoking breakfast and impatient children; Who, spoon in hand, and longing to begin, Towards the door cast many a weary look To see their dad come in —— . Then round they sit, a chearful company, All eagerly begin, and with heap'd spoons Besmear from ear to ear their rosy cheeks. The faithful dog stands by his matter's side Wagging his tail, and looking in his face; While humble puss pays court to all around, And purs and rubs them with her furry sides; Nor goes this little flattery unrewarded. But the laborious sit not long at table; The grateful father lifts his eyes to heav'n To bless his God, whose ever bounteous hand Him and his little ones doth daily feed; Then rises satisfied to work again.
 The birds now quit their holes and lurking sheds, Most mute and melancholy, where thro' night All nestling close to keep each other warm, In downy sleep they had forgot their hardships; But not to chant and carol in the air, Or lightly swing upon some waving bough, And merrily return each other's notes; No; silently they hop from bush to bush, Yet find no seeds to stop their craving want, Then bend their flight to the low smoking cot, Chirp on the roof, or at the window peck, To tell their wants to those who lodge within. The poor lank hare flies homeward to his den, But little burthen'd with his nightly meal Of wither'd greens grubb'd from the farmer's garden; A poor and scanty portion snatch'd in fear; And fearful creatures, forc'd abroad by want, Are now to ev'ry enemy a prey.
ed,ps eht! namstrohe tomfrb'ghei nh deirgn shtegiHr seundelounds!ab de kr hcallive agr;cu fUpm roeh rhwee laehcc urious maiden sta  tedsnm iah rekeep to oldso sc ,sdrac gnitarg ghou,Rrkwor eithlirdnesIlani ghce of squand voic ,tukrahesuoB.ve e hrye suomfrstryindueardIs hgnn uoiso  fioesth, dsunl al' rov htiw ,os deirahumming wheel, tht eivllga.ehT efewi t'sguonWhe,t ehfirhh ytesuo
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 The day now at its height, the pent-up kine Are driven from their flails to take the air. How stupidly they stare! and feel how strange! They open wide their smoking mouths to low, But scarcely can their feeble sound be heard; Then turn and lick themselves, and step by step Move dull and heavy to their flails again. In scatter'd groups the little idle boys With purple fingers, moulding in the snow Their icy ammunition, pant for war; And, drawing up in opposite array, Send forth a mighty fliower of well aim'd balls, Whilst little hero's try their growing flrength, And burn to beat the en'my off the field. Or on the well worn ice in eager throngs, Aiming their race, shoot rapidly along, Trip up each other's heels, and on the surface With knotted shoes, draw many a chalky line. Untir'd of play, they never cease their sport Till the faint sun has almost run his course, And threat'ning clouds, slow rising from the north, Spread grumly darkness o'er the face of heav'n; Then, by degrees, they scatter to their homes, With many a broken head and bloody nose, To claim their mothers' pity, who, most skilful, Cures all their troubles with a bit of bread.
 Strutting before, the cock leads forth his train, And, chuckling near the barn among the straw, Reminds the farmer of his morning's service; His grateful master throws a lib'ral handful; They flock about it, whilst the hungry sparrows Perch'd on the roof, look down with envious eye, Then, aiming well, amidst the feeders light, And seize upon the feast with greedy bill, Till angry partlets peck them off the field. But at a distance, on the leafless tree, All woe be gone, the lonely blackbird sits; The cold north wind ruffles his glossy feathers; Full oft' he looks, but dare not make approach; Then turns his yellow bill to peck his side, And claps his wings close to his sharpen'd breast. The wand'ring fowler, from behind the hedge, Fastens his eye upon him, points his gun, And firing wantonly as at a mark, E'en lays him low in that same cheerful spot Which oft' hath ccho'd with his ev'ning's song.
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