SECTION 2.

The blind boy.

O SAY, what is that thing call'd Light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?
What are the blessings of the sight?
O tell your poor blind boy!

You talk of wond'rous things you see;
You say the sun shines bright;
I feel him warm, but how can he,
Or make it day or night?

My day or night myself I make,
Whene'er I sleep or play;

And could I ever keep awake,
With me 'twere always day.

With heavy sighs I often hear
You 'wail my hapless wo;
But sure with patience I can bear
A loss I ne'er can know.

Then let not what I cannot have,
My cheer of mind destroy:
Let me with my lot be content,
Although a poor blind boy!

SECTION 3.

The contented man.

AN honest, sober man, a hedger and ditcher, Though he was poor, did not covet to be richer; For all such vain wishes to him were prevented, By a fortunate habit of being contented.

Though cold was the weather, or dear was the food,
John never was found in a murmuring mood;
For this he was constantly heard to declare,

What he could not prevent, he would cheerfully bear,

"And why should I grumble and murmur?" he said, "If I cannot get meat, I can surely get bread : And though fretting may make my calamities deeper, It never can cause bread and meat to be cheaper."

If John was afflicted with sickness or pain,
He wished himself better, but did not complain;
Nor lie down to fret, in despondence and sorrow,
But said, that he hop'd to be better to-morrow.

If any one wrong'd him, or treated him ill,
Why John was good-natur'd and sociable still;
For he said, that revenging the injury done,
Would be making two rogues, when there needs be but one,

And thus honest John, though his station was humble, Pass'd through this sad world without even a grumble: And I wish that some folks, who're greater and richer, Would copy honest John, the hedger and ditcher.

SECTION 4.

Christian resignation,

WHATE'ER betided, Joseph thought it was right;

And Providence still he kept ever in sight:

To those who love God, let things turn as they would, He was certain that all work'd together for good.

He prais'd his Creator whatever befell:

How thankful was Joseph when matters went well!
How sincere were his carols of praise for good health,
And how grateful for any increase in his wealth!

In trouble, he bow'd him to God's holy will:
How contented was Joseph, when matters went ill!
When rich and when poor, he alike understood,
That all things together were working for good.

If the land was afflicted with war, he declar'd
'Twas a needful correction for sins which he shar'd;
And when merciful Heav'n bade slaughter to cease,
How thankful was Joe for the blessing of peace!

When taxes ran high, and provisions were dear,
Still Joseph declar'd he had nothing to fear;
It was but a trial, he well understood,

From HIM who makes all work together for good.

Though his wife was but sickly, his gettings but small,
A mind so submissive prepar'd him for all:

He liv'd on his gains, were they greater or less;
And the Giver he ceas'd not each moment to bless.

When another child came, he receiv'd him with joy;
And Providence bless'd, who had sent him the boy:
But when the child died,-said poor Joe; "I'm content,
For God hath a right to recall what he lent,"

SECTION 5.

The happy workman,

I AM a poor workman, as rich as a Jew:
A strange sort of tale! but however 'tis true;
Come listen awhile, and I'll prove it to you.

I am a poor workman, you'll easily grant ;

And I'm rich as a Jew, for there's nothing I want:

I've meat, drink, and clothes, and with these I'm

content.

I live in a cottage, and yonder it stands;

And while I can work with these two honest hands,
I'm as happy as they that have houses and lands.

I keep to my workmanship all the day long:
I sing and I whistle, and this is my song;
“Thank God who has made me so lusty and strong."

I never am greedy of delicate fare :

If He gives me enough, though 'tis never so bare,
The more is his love, and the less is my care.

Though my clothes on a working-day look but lean;
Yet when I can dress me,-on Sundays I mean,
Though cheap, they are warm, and though coarse, they
are clean.

Folks cry out hard times; but I never regard;

For I ne'er did, nor e'er will, set my heart earthward :
So 'tis all one to me be they easy or hard,

I envy not them that have thousands of pounds;
That sport o'er the country with horses and hounds:
There's naught but contentment can keep within bounds,

I ne'er lose my time o'er a pipe or a pot,

Nor lurk in a nook, like a sluggardly sot:

But I buy what is wanting with what I have got,

And if I have more than I want for to spend,
I help a poor neighbour, or diligent friend;

"He that gives to the poor, to the Lord he doth lend,"

I grudge not that gentlefolks dress themselves fine;
At their gold and their silver I never repine:
But I wish their insides were as hearty as mine.

With quarrels o' th' country, and matters of state,
With Ins and with Outs, I ne'er puzzle my pate:
There are some that I love, and none that I hate.

What though my condition be ever so coarse,
I strive to embrace it for better and worse;
And my heart, I thank God, is as light as my purse,

In short, my condition, whatever it be,

"Tis God that appoints it, for aught I can see; And I'm sure I can never do better than HE.

SECTION 6.

The cottager's Saturday night.

NOVEMBER chill blows loud, with angry brow;
The short'ning winter day is near a close;
The miry beasts retreating from the plough;
The black'ning trains of crows to their repose:
The toil-worn cottager from labour goes;
This night his weekly toil is at an end;
Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,
Hoping the morn in case and rest to spend ;

And weary, o'er the moor, his course doth homeward bend.

At length, his lonely cot appears in view,

Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;

Th' expectant young ones, tott'ring, stagger through, To meet their dad, with prattling noise and glee.