It has been observed that nations reaching their zenith, regard with more complacency their rising morn, than the approaching west. France, notwithstanding the precision given to her language by Richilieu, and the Academy, turns back affectionately to her Troubadours and Trouvires, to the long-drawn, scarce-readable "Romance of the Rose," and the itinerant Chronicles of Froissart. England is not indifferent to Anglo-Saxon traditions, or the customs of her Norman dynasty. A time may arrive when our posterity will not scorn to be reminded of the primitive usages of their rural fathers. To that time, and to unborn readers, this simple poem is dedicated. L. H. S. THE RURAL LIFE IN NEW-ENGLAND. CANTO FIRST. Peaceful is the rural life, made strong by healthful industry, Firm in love of the birth-land, and the laws that govern it, Calm through moderated desires and a primitive simplicity, Walking filially with Nature as the Patriarchs walked with God. Such have I beheld it in my native vales, green and elm-shaded. Such hath it been depicted in their legends who went before me; What therefore, I have seen and heard, declare I unto you In measures artless and untuneful. Fearless of hardship, In costume, as in manners, unadorn'd and homely Were our ancestral farmers, the seed-planters of a strong nation. Congenial were their wives, not ashamed of the household charge, Yoke-fellows that were help-meets, vigorous and of a good courage; Revolting not at life's plain intent, but its duties discharging Patiently, lovingly, and with true faith looking upward. Thence came the rudiments of an inflexible people Whose praise is in themselves. Hail to the ancient farmer! Broad-shouldered as Ajax--deep-chested through commerce with free air, Not enervated by luxury, nor care-worn with gold-counting, Content with his lot, by pride and envy unvisited. Muscular was his arm, laying low the kings of the forest, Uncouth might be his coat, and his heavy shoes, Vestris flouted, At the grasp of his huge hand, the dainty belle might have shuddered. Yet blessings on his bronzed face, and his warm, honest heart, Whose well-rooted virtues were the strength and stay of republics. * * * * *