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But pleased decoy them from their shady haunts,
In rills to visit every tree and herb;

Or fall o'er fern-clad cliffs with foaming rage;
Or in huge basons float, a fair expanse ;
Or, bound in chains of artificial force,
Arise through sculptured stone, or breathing brass.
But I'm in haste to furl my wind-worn sails,
And anchor my tired vessel on the shore.

HOW TO BUILD NEGRO-HUTS; THEIR SHADE AND FRUIT-TREES; COCO, BAY-GRAPE, AND MILLET, FOR THE SEA-SIDE; BANANAS AND PLANTAINS FOR THE UPLAND; A STREAM.

It much imports to build thy negro-huts

Or on the sounding margin of the main,
Or on some dry hill's gently-sloping sides,

In streets at distance due. When near the beach,
Let frequent coco cast its wavy shade;
'Tis Neptune's tree, and, nourished by the spray,
Soon round the bending stem's aerial height
Clusters of mighty nuts, with milk and fruit
Delicious fraught, hang clustering in the sky.
There let the bay-grape, too, its crooked limbs
Project enormous; of impurpled hue
Its frequent clusters glow. And there, if thou
Wouldst make the sand yield salutary food,
Let Indian millet rear its corny reed,
Like armed battalions in array of war.
But round the upland huts bananas plant;
A wholesome nutriment bananas yield,
And sunburnt labor loves its breezy shade.
Their graceful screen let kindred plantains join,
And with their broad vans shiver in the breeze;
So flames designed, or by imprudence caught,
Shall spread no ruin to the neighboring roof.
Yet nor the sounding margin of the main,
Nor gently sloping side of breezy hill,
Nor streets, at distance due, embowered in trees,
Will half the health or half the pleasure yield,
Unless some pitying naiad deign to lave,
With an unceasing stream, thy thirsty bounds.

NEGRO FESTIVALS AND DANCES; THE GREAT NEGRO DANCE.

On festal days, or when their work is done, Permit thy slaves to lead the choral dance, To the wild banshaw's melancholy sound. Responsive to the sound, head, feet, and frame, Move awkwardly harmonious; hand in hand Now locked, the gay troop circularly wheels, And frisks and capers with intemperate joy. Halts the vast circle, all clap hands and sing, While those distinguished for their heels and air Bound in the centre, and fantastic twine. Meanwhile some stripling from the choral ring Trips forth, and, not ungallantly, bestows On her who nimblest hath the greensward beat, And whose flushed beauties have enthralled his soul, A silver token of his fond applause. Anon they form in ranks; nor inexpert A thousand tuneful intricacies weave, Shaking their sable limbs; and oft a kiss

Steal from their partners, who, with neck reclined,

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NEGRO-CODE OF LOUIS XIV.A SLAVE-CODE SHOULD PROTECT THE NEGRO.

The truly great, though from a hostile clime, The sacred Nine embalm; then, Muses, chant In grateful numbers Gallic Lewis' praise; For private murder quelled, for laurelled arts Invented, cherished in his native realm; For rapine punished, for grim famine fed; For sly chicane expelled the wrangling bar, And rightful Themis seated on her throne: But, chief for those mild laws his wisdom framed, To guard the Ethiop from tyrannic sway!

Did such, in these green isles which Albion claims,

Did such obtain, the Muse, at midnight hour,
This last brain-racking study had not plied;
But, sunk in slumbers of immortal bliss,
To bards had listened on a fancied Thames !

APOSTROPHE TO THE THAMES.

All hail, old father Thames! though not from
far
Thy springing waters roll, nor countless streams,
Of name conspicuous, swell thy watery store;
Though thou, no Plata, to the sea devolve
Vast humid offerings, thou art king of streams :
Delighted commerce broods upon thy wave,
And every quarter of this sea-girt globe
To thee due tribute pays; but chief the world
By great Columbus found, where now the Muse
Beholds transported flow vast fleecy clouds,
Alps piled on Alps romantically high,
Which charm the sight with many a pleasing form.
The moon in virgin-glory gilds the pole,

And tips yon tamarinds, tips yon cane-crowned vale,
With fluent silver, while unnumbered stars
Gild the vast concave with their lively beams.

The main, a moving, burnished mirror, shines; No noise is heard, save when the distant surge With drowsy murmurings breaks upon the shore!

THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, ETC.

Ah me, what thunders roll! the sky's on fire! Now sudden darkness muffles up the pole ! Heavens! what wild scenes before the affrighted

sense

Imperfect swim!- See! in that flaming scroll
Which time unfolds, the future germs bud forth
Of mighty empires! independent realms ! —
And must Britannia, Neptune's favorite queen,
Protectress of true science, freedom, arts,
Must she, ah! must she to her offspring crouch?

FUTURE COLONIAL GLORIES OF BRITAIN.

Ah, must my Thames, old ocean's favorite son, Resign his trident to barbaric streams,

His banks neglected and his waves unsought,
No bards to sing them and no fleets to grace? —
Again the fleecy clouds amuse the eye,
And sparkling stars the vast horizon gild,
She shall not crouch, if wisdom guide the helm,
Wisdom that bade loud fame, with justest praise,
Record her triumphs; bade the lackeying winds
Transport to every quarter of the globe
Her wingéd navies, bade her sceptred sons
Of earth acknowledge her preeminence!
She shall not crouch, if these cane ocean-isles,
Isles which on Britain for their all depend,
And must forever, still indulgent, share
Her fostering smile, and other isles be given
From vanquished foes. -And see, another race!
A golden era dazzles my fond sight!
That other race, that longed-for era, hail!
The British George now reigns, the patriot king!
Britain shall ever triumph o'er the main.

Tusser's "December's Husbandry."

O dirty December,

For Christmas remember.

Forgotten month past, Do now at the last.

WHEN frost will not suffer to dike and to hedge,
Then get thee a heat with thy beetle and wedge;
Once Hallowmas come, and a fire in the hall,
Such slivers do well for to lie by the wall.

Get grindstone and whetstone for tool that is dull,
Or often be letted, and fret belly full:
A wheel-barrow also be ready to have,
At hand of thy servant, thy compas to save.

Give cattle their fodder in plot dry and warm,
And count them for mixing, or other like harm :
Young colts with thy wennels together go serve,
Lest lurched by others they happen to sterve.

The rack is commended for saving of dung,
To set as the old cannot mischief the young.
In tempest (the wind being northly or east)
Warm barth, under hedge, is a succor to beast.
The housing of cattle, while Winter doth hold,
Is good for all such as are feeble and old :
It saveth much compas, and many a sleep,
And spareth the pasture for walk of thy sheep.

For charges so little much quiet is won,
If strongly and handsomely all things be done ;
But use to untackle them once in a day,
To rub and to lick them, to drink and to play.
Get Trusty to tend them, not lubberly 'Squire,
That all the day long hath his nose at the fire:
Nor trust unto children poor cattle to feed,
But such as be able to help, at a need.

Serve rye-straw out first, then wheat-straw and

pease,

Then oat-straw and barley, then hay, if ye please: But serve them with hay, while the straw-stover last,

Then love they no straw, they had rather to fast. **

Good fruit and good plenty doth well in the loft,
Then make thee an orchard, and cherish it oft;
For plant or for stock, lay aforehand to cast,
But set or remove it ere Christmas be past.
Set one fro another full forty feet wide;
To stand as he stood is a part of his pride.
More faiër, more worthy of cost to remove,
More steady ye set it, more likely to prove.
To teach and unteach, in a school is unmeet;
To do and undo, to the purse is unsweet:
Then orchard or hop-yard, so trimméd with cost,
Should not, through folly, be spoiléd and lost.
Ere Christmas be passéd let horse be let blood,
For many a purpose it doth them much good.
The day of St. Stephen old fathers did use ;
If that do mislike thee, some other day use.

Look well to thy horses in stable thou must,
That hay be not foisty, nor chaff full of dust;
Nor stone in their provender, feather, nor clots,
Nor feed with green peason, for breeding of bots.**
Go look to thy bees; if the hive be too light,
Set water and honey, with rosemary dight;
Which set in a dish full of sticks in the hive,
From danger of famine ye save them alive. *

Ballads for December.

BLOOMFIELD'S "MARKET-NIGHT."

'O WINDS, howl not so long and loud;

Nor with your vengeance arm the snow :
Bear hence each heavy-loaded cloud,

And let the twinkling star-beams glow.
'Now, sweeping floods, rush down the slope,
Wide scattering ruin. Stars, shine soon!
No other light my love can hope;

Midnight will want the joyous moon.
"O guardian Spirits !-ye that dwell
Where woods, and pits, and hollow ways,
The lone night traveller's fancy swell

With fearful tales of older days,

'Press round him :-guide his willing steed
Through darkness, dangers, currents, snows;
Wait where, from sheltering thickets freed,
The dreary heath's rude whirlwind blows.

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'From darkness rushing o'er his way,

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The thorn's white load it bears on high! Where the short furze all shrouded lay, Mounts the dried grass; earth's bosom dry. 'Then o'er the hill, with furious sweep, It rends the elevated treeSure-footed beast, thy road thou 'lt keep; Nor storm nor darkness startles thee!

'O blest assurance (trusty steed),

To thee the buried road is known; Home all the spur thy footsteps need,

When loose the frozen rein is thrown.

'Between the roaring blasts that shake
The naked elder at the door,
Though not one prattler to me speak,
Their sleeping sighs delight me more.
'Sound is their rest- they little know
What pain, what cold, their father feels;
But dream, perhaps, they see him now,

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While each the promised orange peels.

Would it were so! the fire burns bright,
And on the warming trencher gleams;

In expectation's raptured sight

How precious his arrival seems !

'I'll look abroad!-'t is piercing cold!— How the bleak wind assails his breast! Yet some faint light mine eyes behold: The storm is verging o'er the west. 'There shines a star!-0 welcome sight!. Through the thin vapors bright'ning still! Yet, 't was beneath the fairest night

The murderer stained yon lonely hill!

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That beast is worth his weight in gold.' Thus spoke the joyful wife; then ran

And hid in grateful steams her head : Dapple was housed, the hungry man

With joy glanced o'er the children's bed. 'What, all asleep!-so best,' he cried :

'O, what a night I've travelled through! Unseen, unheard, I might have died;

But Heaven has brought me safe to you. 'Dear partner of my nights and days,

That smile becomes thee! - let us then Learn, though mishap may cross our ways, It is not ours to reckon when.'

THE HAPPY FIRESIDE. THE hearth was clean, the fire clear, The kettle on for tea; Palemon, in his elbow-chair, As blessed as man could be.

Clarinda, who his heart possessed,
And was his new-made bride,
With head reclined upon his breast,
Sat toying by his side.

Stretched at his feet, in happy state,
A favorite dog was laid;
By whom a little sportive cat
In wanton humor played.
Clarinda's hand he gently pressed;
She stole an amorous kiss,
And, blushing, modestly confessed
The fulness of her bliss.

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WINTER-JANUARY.

Bloomfield's "Farmer's Boy."

"WINTER."

ARGUMENT.

Tenderness to cattle. Frozen turnips. The cow-yard. Night. The farm-house. Fireside. Farmer's advice and instruction. Nightly cares of the stable. Dobbin. The post-horse. Sheep-stealing dogs. Walks occasioned thereby. The ghost. Lamb-time. Returning spring. Conclusion.

SYMPATHY WITH THE LABORER.

WITH kindred pleasures moved, and cares opprest, Sharing alike our weariness and rest; Who lives the daily partner of our hours, Thro' every change of heat, and frost, and showers; Partakes our cheerful meals, partaking first In mutual labor and in mutual thirst, The kindly intercourse will ever prove A bond of amity and social love.

SYMPATHY WITH OUR DOMESTIC ANIMALS; THEIR DEPENDENCE IN WINTER.

To more than man this generous warmth extends, And oft the team and shiv'ring herd befriends; Tender solicitude the bosom fills,

And pity executes what reason wills :
Youth learns compassion's tale from every tongue,
And flies to aid the helpless and the young;

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts, and groves dismantled roar,
Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows,
No nourishment in frozen pastures grows;
Yet frozen pastures every morn resound
With fair abundance thundering to the ground.

WINTER FEED ON TURNIPS; GILES ENGAGED IN FODDERING AND WATERING.

For though on hoary twigs no buds peep out, And e'en the hardy bramble cease to sprout, Beneath dread Winter's level sheets of snow The sweet nutritious turnip deigns to grow. Till now imperious want and wide-spread dearth Bid labor claim her treasures from the earth. On Giles, and such as Giles, the labor falls To strew the frequent load where hunger calls. On driving gales sharp hail indignant flies, And sleet, more irksome still, assails his eyes; Snow clogs his feet; or, if no snow is seen, The field with all its juicy store to screen, Deep goes the frost, till every root is found A rolling mass of ice upon the ground. No tender ewe can break her nightly fast, Nor heifer strong begin the cold repast,

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