Full of the mighty deeds of yore, I bade good night the trembling beam; Fancy e'en heard the battle's roar, Of what but slaughter could I dream? Bless'd be that night, that trembling beam, Peaceful excursions Fancy made; All night I heard the bubbling stream, Yet, Barnham Water wants a shade. Whatever hurts my country's fame, When wits and mountaineers deride, To me grows serious, for I name My native plains and streams with pride. No mountain charms have I to sing, No loftier minstrel's rights invade; From trifles oft _my_ raptures spring; --Sweet Barnham Water wants a shade MARY'S EVENING SIGH How bright with pearl the western sky! How glorious far and wide, Yon lines of golden clouds that lie So peaceful side by side! Their deep'ning tints, the arch of light, All eyes with rapture see; E'en while I sigh I bless the sight That lures my love from me. Green hill, that shad'st the valley here, Thou bear'st upon thy brow The only wealth to Mary dear, And all she'll ever know. There, in the crimson light I see, Above thy summit rise, My Edward's form, he looks to me A statue in the skies. Descend my love, the hour is come, Why linger on the hill? The sun hath left my quiet home, But thou canst see him still; Yet why a lonely wanderer stray, Alone the joy pursue? The glories of the closing day Can charm thy Mary too. Dear Edward, when we stroll'd along Beneath the waving corn, And both confess'd the power of song, And bless'd the dewy morn; Your eye o'erflow'd, "How sweet," you cried. (My presence then could move) "How sweet, with Mary by my side, "To gaze and talk of love" Thou art not false! that cannot be; Yet I my rivals deem Each woodland charm, the moss, the tree, The silence, and the stream; Whate'er my love, detains thee now, I'll yet forgive thy stay; But with to-morrow's dawn come thou, We'll brush the dews away. GOOD TIDINGS OR, _NEWS FROM THE FARM_. How vain this tribute; vain, this lowly lay; Yet nought is vain which gratitude inspires! The Muse, besides, her duty thus approves To virtue, to her country, to mankind! _Thomson._ ADVERTISEMENT To the few who know that I have employed my thoughts on the importance of Dr. Jenners's discovery, it has generally and almost unexceptionably appeared a subject of little promise; peculiarly unfit indeed for poetry. My method of treating it has endeared it to myself, for it indulges in domestic anecdote. The account given of my infancy and of my father's burial, is not only poetically, but strictly true, and with me it has its weight accordingly. I have witnessed the destruction described in my brother's family: and I have, in my own, insured the lives of four children by Vaccine Inoculation, who, I trust, are destined to look back upon the Small-pox of the scourge of days gone by.--My hopes are high, and my prayers sincere, for its universal adoption.