But pleased decoy them from their shady haunts, Or fall o'er fern-clad cliffs with foaming rage; HOW TO BUILD NEGRO-HUTS; THEIR SHADE AND FRUIT-TREES; It much imports to build thy negro-huts Or on the sounding margin of the main, In streets at distance due. When near the beach, "T is Neptune's tree, and, nourished by the spray, 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, 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, APOSTROPHE TO THE THAMES. All hail, old father Thames! though not from And tips yon tamarinds, tips yon cane-crowned vale, His banks neglected and his waves unsought, 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, Get grindstone and whetstone for tool that is dull, Give cattle their fodder in plot dry and warm, The rack is commended for saving of dung, 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. ** Look well to thy horses in stable thou must, 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. 'From darkness rushing o'er his way, 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 'It 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 Their sleeping sighs delight me more. How precious his arrival seems! The murderer stained yon lonely hill! 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, Stretched at his feet, in happy state, WINTER-JANUARY. "WINTER." ARGUMENT. Ten lerness 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, 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, |