One piece in this collection will inform the reader of my most pleasing visit to _Wakefield Lodge_: books, solitude, and objects entirely new, brought pleasures which memory will always cherish. That noble and worthy Family, and all my immediate and unknown Friends, will, I hope, believe the sincerity of my thanks for all their numerous favours, and candidly judge the Poems before them. R. BLOOMFIELD. Sept. 29, 1801. P.S. Since affixing the above date, an event of much greater importance than any to which I have been witness, has taken place, to the universal joy (it is to be hoped) of every inhabitant of Europe. My portion of joy shall be expressed while it is warm: and the reader will do sufficient justice, if he only believes it to be sincere. October 10. PEACE. Halt! ye Legions, sheathe your Steel: Blood grows precious; shed no more: Cease your toils; your wounds to heal Lo! beams of Mercy reach the shore! From Realms of everlasting light The favour'd guest of Heaven is come: Prostrate your Banners at the sight, And bear the glorious tidings home. The plunging corpse with half-clos'd eyes, No more shall stain th' unconscious brine; Yon pendant gay, that streaming flies, Around its idle Staff shall twine. Behold! along th' etherial sky Her beams o'er conquering Navies spread; Peace! Peace! the leaping Sailors cry, With shouts that might arouse the dead. Then forth Britannia's thunder pours; A vast reiterated sound! From Line to Line the Cannon roars, And spreads the blazing joy around. Return, ye brave! your Country calls; Return; return, your task is done: While here the tear of transport falls, To grace your Laurels nobly won. Albion Cliffs--from age to age, That bear the roaring storms of Heav'n, Did ever fiercer Warfare rage? Was ever Peace more timely given? Wake! sounds of Joy: rouse, generous Isle; Let every patriot bosom glow. Beauty, resume thy wonted smile, And, Poverty, thy cheerful brow. Boast, Britain, of thy glorious Guests; Peace, Wealth, and Commerce, all thine own: Still on contented Labour rests The basis of a lasting Throne. Shout, Poverty! 'tis Heaven that saves; Protected Wealth, the chorus raise: Ruler of War, of Winds, and Waves, Accept a prostrate Nation's praise. ERRATA. Page 28, line 1, for _Mon_ read _Man_. 56, 13, for _thy_ read _my_. CONTENTS. Richard and Kate: Ballad Walter and Jane: a Tale The Miller's Maid: a Tale The Widow to her Hour-Glass Market-Night: Ballad The Fakenham Ghost: Ballad The French Mariner: Ballad Dolly: Ballad A Visit to Whittlebury Forest A Highland Drover: Song A Word to Two Young Ladies On hearing of the Translation of the Farmer's Boy Nancy: Song Rosy Hannah: Song The Shepherd and his Dog Rover: Song Hunting Song Lucy: Song Winter Song [Illustration] RICHARD AND KATE: OR, FAIR-DAY. A Suffolk Ballad.