Fresh delight

Each shelf in breadth so uniformly pland 

That books in eightvo size or more might stand 

For this one use I'd have the cubboard made 

Where none but choisest authors should be laid 

Such as Dermody Scott Macniel and Burn 

With rural Bloomfield Templeman and Hurn 

These are the authors that can boast the power 

Of giving raptures in a leisure hour 

& tho I read some of them every night 

Their songs near fail of adding fresh delight

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Image: My library

Eternity

The vaulted void of purple sky 
That everywhere extends
That stretches from the dazzled eye
In space that never ends
A morning whose uprisen sun 
No setting e'er shall see
A day that comes without a noon
Such is Eternity.

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Crookd pads

Labour sought a sheltering place

Neath some thick wood woven bower

While odd rain drops dampt his face

Heralds of the coming shower

Where the oak plank crosst the stream

Which the early rising lass

Climbs each morn wi gathering cream

Crookd pads tracking thro the grass

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Autumn drop

The leaves of Autumn drop by two's and three's

& the black cloud hung o'er the old low church
Is fixed as is a rock that never stirs
But look again & you may well perceive
The weather cock is in another sky
& the cloud passing leaves the blue behind
Crimson & yellow bloch'd with Iron Brown

The Autumn tans & varigates the leaves
The nuts are ripe in woods about the Town
Russet the cleared fields where the bindweed weaves

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Syren

Syren of sullen moods & fading hues
Yet haply not incapable of joy
Sweet Autumn! I thee hail
With welcome all unfeigned

& oft as morning from her lattice peeps
To beckon up the sun I seek with thee
To drink the dewy breath
Of fields left fragrant then

In solitudes where no frequented paths
But what thy own foot makes betray thy home
Stealing obtrusive there
To meditate thy end

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For want ‘o drink

Being rather faint for want o' drink
(Yet not so sadly off for chink)
I went to ha' some beer

On entering in a house at hand
(As alehouses do mostly stand
To catch all passers by)

I told my wants & sat me down
'Gen two near neighbours o' the town
A talking very sly

At which so eager o' my beer
I first ga' little heed to hear
Untill I 'gan to see

Some queerish beckons come in vogue
& hear the name o' thief & rogue
& then a look at me

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The hues of the west

The summer is waining
The autumn is staining
The hedges & woods with the hues of the west
So come in the dell
To bid it farewell
For sweets at their parting are often the best

The summer gets duller
The trees are in colour
Yet sweeter than summer was walking with thee
Thy face of rose charmed me
And ne'er could I harm thee
From the day we first sheltered beneath the oak tree

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