OWD PINDER

Own Pinder were a rackless foo,
An' spent his days i' spreein' ;
At th' end ov every drinkin'-do,
He're sure to crack o' deein';
"Go, sell my rags, an' sell my shoon ;
Aw's never live to trail 'em ;
My ballis-pipes are eawt o' tune,
An' th' wynt begins to fail 'em!

“Eawr Matty 's very fresh an' yung
'T would ony mon bewilder
Hoo 'll wed again afore it's lung,

For th' lass is fond o' childer;
My bit o' brass 'll fly, - yo 'n see,
When th' coffin-lid has screen'd me ;
It gwos again my pluck to dee,

An' lev her wick beheend me.

God bless thee, love, aw 'm fain tha 'rt come,
Just try an' mak thisel awhoam :
What ar 't co'd?

Tha 'rt loike thi mother to a tee,
But tha's thi feyther's nose, aw see,
Well, aw 'm blow'd!

Come, come, tha need n't look so shy,
Aw am no' blackin' thee, not I;
Settle deawn,

An' tak this haup'ney for thisel',
There's lots o' sugar-sticks to sell
Deawn i' th' teawn.

Dead oak! thou livest. Thy smitten hands,
The thunder of thy brow,
Speak with strange tongues in many lands,
And tyrants hear thee, now!

Beneath the shadow of thy name,
Inspir'd by thy renown,
Shall future patriots rise to fame,
And many a sun go down.

A POET'S EPITAPH

STOP, mortal! Here thy brother lies
The poet of the poor.

His books were rivers, woods, and skies,
The meadow and the moor;

His teachers were the torn heart's wail,
The tyrant and the slave,

The street, the factory, the jail,

The palace and the grave. Sin met thy brother everywhere!

And is thy brother blam'd?
From passion, danger, doubt, and care,
He no exemption claim'd.

The meanest thing, earth's feeblest worm,
He fear'd to scorn or hate;
But, honoring in a peasant's form

The equal of the great,

He bless'd the steward, whose wealth makes
The poor man's little, more;
Yet loath'd the haughty wretch that takes
From plunder'd labor's store.

A hand to do, a bead to plan,

A heart to feel and dare

Tell man's worst foes, here lies the man Who drew them as they are.

THE BUILDERS

SPRING, summer, autumn, winter,
Come duly, as of old;

Winds blow, suns set, and morning saith, "Ye hills, put on your gold."

The song of Homer liveth,

Dead Solon is not dead;
Thy splendid name, Pythagoras,
O'er realms of suns is spread.

But Babylon and Memphis

Are letters traced in dust : Read them, earth's tyrants! ponder well The might in which ye trust!

They rose, while all the depths of guilt
Their vain creators sounded;
They fell, because on fraud and force
Their corner-stones were founded.

Truth, mercy, knowledge, justice,
Are powers that ever stand;
They build their temples in the soul,
And work with God's right hand.

"And, lo! the universal air

Seem'd lit with ghastly flame ; Ten thousand thousand dreadful eyes Were looking down in blame : I took the dead man by his hand, And call'd upon his name!

"Oh, God! it made me quake to see
Such sense within the slain !
But when I touch'd the lifeless clay,
The blood gush'd out amain!
For every clot, a burning spot
Was scorching in my brain!

"My head was like an ardent coal, My heart as solid ice ;

My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, Was at the Devil's price;

A dozen times I groan'd: the dead Had never groan'd but twice.

"And now, from forth the frowning sky, From the Heaven's topmost height,

I heard a voice the awful voice
Of the blood-avenging sprite :
'Thou guilty man! take up thy dead
And hide it from my sight!

I took the dreary body up,
And cast it in a stream,
A sluggish water, black as ink,
The depth was so extreme :
My gentle Boy, remember this
Is nothing but a dream!

"Down went the corse with hollow plunge
And vanish'd in the pool;
Anon I cleans'd my bloody hands,

And wash'd my forehead cool, And sat among the urchins young, That evening in the school.

"Oh, Heaven! to think of their white souls, And mine so black and grim!

I could not share in childish prayer
Nor join in Evening Hymn:
Like a Devil of the Pit I seem'd,
'Mid holy Cherubim !

"And peace went with them, one and all,
And each calm pillow spread;
But Guilt was my grim Chamberlain
That lighted me to bed,

And drew my midnight curtains round,
With fingers bloody red!