All you who turn the sturdy soil, Or ply the loom with daily toil, And lowly on through life turmoil For scanty fare, Attend, and gather richest spoil To soothe your care. ...
When warm'd with zeal, my rustic Muse Feels fluttering fain to tell her news, And paint her simple, lowly views With all her art, And, though in genius but obtuse, May touch the heart. ...
My food is but spare, And humble my cot, Yet Jesus dwells there And blesses my lot: Though thinly I'm clad, And tempests oft roll, He's raiment, and bread, And drink to my soul....
One sunny morn of May, When dressed in flowery green The dewy landscape, charmed With Nature's fairest scene, In thoughtful mood I slowly strayed O'er hill and dale, Through bush and glade....
Should poverty, modest and clean, E'er please, when presented to view, Should cabin on brown heath, or green, Disclose aught engaging to you, Should Erin's wild harp soothe the ear...
The shower is past, and the sky O'erhead is both mild and serene, Save where a few drops from on high, Like gems, twinkle over the green: And glowing fair, in the black north,...
The sun shines bright, the morning's fair, The gossamers float on the air, The dew-gems twinkle in the glare, The spider's loom Is closely plied, with artful care, Even in my room. ...
When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait, First reached my ear, his doubtful fate With dread suspense my mind oppressed,...
The joyous day illumes the sky That bids each care and sorrow fly To shades of endless night: E'en frozen age, thawed in the fires Of social mirth, feels young desires, And tastes of fresh delight....