Before I lay my lowly harp aside,—
My constant hope, my solace, and my pride,
Through all the changes of my grief or glee,—
Before its powers grow weaker and depart,
I weave the inmost feelings of my heart
In one true song of thankfulness to thee.

My earthly lot hath been so strangely cast,
That all my musings on the chequered past
Are but a kind of retrospective pain,
Without regret for any day gone by;
To Hopeful Campbell's polished song I fly,
For gentle Rogers sings for me in vain.

When I was yet an unsuspecting child,
I was not thoughtless, frolicsome, and wild,
To sport and pastime, or to mischief prone:
A moody, melancholy, wordless boy,
I always felt a strange and quiet joy
In wandering companionless and lone.

But poverty, and pain, and darker things,
Threw much of withering poison in the springs
Of better feeling in my youthful breast;
In every season and in every place,
I wore a shade of sorrow on my face,—
For I had troubles not to be expressed.

With none to strengthen and to teach my mind,
I groped my way like some one lost and blind,
Within the windings of a tangled wood;
But still, by wakeful and inquiring thought,
My watchful spirit in its musings caught
A partial glimpse of what was true and good.

I grew at last to manhood; fear and strife,
With all the bitterest ills of human life,
Beset me round with wretchedness and gloom;
So low, so hopeless, was my abject state,
I thought it vain to wrestle with my fate,
And bowed in passive patience to my doom.

Joyless I struggled on, till I became
A husband and a father; and the name
Fell like the sound of music on my ear;
For spite of indigence and worldly wrong,
The guileless prattle of an infant's tongue
Touched my sad heart, and made existence dear.

My troubles grew apace; my hopes grew less,
And, for my precious children's sake, distress
Entered my spirit with a keener sting;
Man had no love and sympathy for me,
Nor I for tyrant man, who seemed to be
A sordid, selfish, and ignoble thing.

Worn out, at length, I left my cheerless home,
Though rashly, in another land to roam,
Where I became the poorest of the poor;
For I was forced (Oh! soul-degrading task!)
With low and supplicating voice, to ask
The meed of bitter bread from door to door:

From house to house—from crowded town to town—
A wretched outcast, wandering up and down,
From every little comfort kept aloof;—
Without a shelter, naked, and unfed,
The cold and stony ground my only bed,
The dark, inclement sky my only roof.

The vast and everlasting hills of God,—
The rock, the stream, the forest, and the sod,
Exultingly I felt were all my own;
But when I mingled with the city's hum,
My soul grew joyless, and my heart grew dumb,
For peopled places made me doubly lone.

By many a river, silent wood, and glen,
Far from the prying eyes of busy men,—
By many a fertile vale, and castled steep,—
On many an ancient and romantic spot,
Where peaceful Nature was, but Man was not,—
I sat me down to meditate and weep.

My mind drank beauty, as the sandy plain
Absorbs the freshness of the summer rain,
That falls so sweetly on its burning face;
At every forward step, some strange delight
Wakened my slumbering heart, and charmed my sight
With some new feature of surpassing grace.

My wondering soul with poesy was fraught,
And higher, nobler, and serener thought,
Which I had never felt or known before;
Back to my native land I gladly flew,
Resolved my best endeavours to renew,
And quit my kindred and my home no more.

But, Oh! the many and the bitter tears,—
The daily sorrows and the nightly fears,
My poor and patient wife had borne so long!
The cold, the want, the misery, the blame,
The vulgar scorn, the insult, and the shame,—
'Twere vain to tell in this protracted song!

An older, wiser, and a better man,
I strove to find some calm and steady plan,
Whereby to banish restlessness and want:
Vain were my best resolves; I only found
The same unvaried, dull, and toilsome round
Of unremitting slavery and scant

Daily I laboured for uncertain food;
But yet my dearest hopes were not subdued
By stern Misfortune's unrelenting frown;
A bright but distant future cheered my way,—
Oh! how I yearned to breathe a living lay,
And win the glory of a Bard's renown!

For I had roamed in Fancy's fairy bower,
And rifled here and there some wilding flower
That grew uncared for in the secret nooks;
I wandered oft in silence and alone,
Gathering some simple shell, some polished stone,
From level sea-sands and meandering brooks.

At length some kind and kindred spirits came
To praise and flatter; and the smothered flame
That burned so feebly in my fettered soul,
Flashed out at once with unexpected gleams,
Taking the shape of dear, delicious dreams,
That woke unceasingly and mocked control.

I thirsted then, and I am thirsting still,
Of mind's imaginings to take my fill,
And drink bright thoughts from fountains pure and free.
But I have talked too wildly, and too long;
Here let my willing, but my wayward song,
Come back, respected Westhead! unto thee.

I have my friends—and valued ones—a few
For ever gentle and for ever true,
Bearing the heart within the open palm;
Some are of good estate, and some are poor;—
Oh! may our mutual fellowship endure,
And fill the cup of life with hallowed balm!

But thou hast been a steadfast friend indeed,—
For ever ready, in the hour of need,
To bid my sorrows and my wants depart;
Not with a haughty, patronising pride,
Taking a license to condemn and chide,
But with a perfect sympathy of heart.

A kind adviser thou hast been to me,
Leaving me still in thought and action free;
Oh! let me thank thee for such just regard!
For I believe that thy superior aim
Is but to raise to comfort and to fame
A long-distressed, but now aspiring Bard.

To thee and generous Jellicorse I owe
Much—and my future gratitude shall show
How well I can remember every debt;
The calm benevolence,—the manly tone,—
The care,—the kindly feeling ye have shown,
Are things I cannot, if I would, forget.

May peace be with ye both! Should future time
Prosper my energies, and I should climb
Where the far steep of glory proudly towers,
With what pure pleasure I shall then look back,
Along my perilous but upward track,
And bless the friends who cheered my darker hours!