III.

Lo! far around, to utmost range of sight,
How numerous float the inhabitants of air,
Their snowy pinions glittering in the light!
Hark! their wild cries of transport and of care.
Alike the deep and dizzy height they dare,
Soar on the blast, or plunge into the wave;
Their lives by Nature's happy laws they wear;
Whilst man, oft appetite's or passion's slave,
Diseased, dishonoured, sinks to an untimely grave.

IV.

Go, search the hospital's unwholesome round,
The felon's dungeon, and the maniac's cell,
The workhouse cold, the churchyard's dreary mound,
And learn what suicide's history can tell.

Ask what does most the stream of victims swell,
And truth shall answer with a look forlorn-

"INTEMPERANCE, greatest curse since Adam fell; "Parent of ills, perdition's eldest born;

"Dark cloud without a bow-a night that knows no morn."

V.

Beyond yon shadow on the welkin's verge,
At memory's call, past scenes salute the eye;
The long black streets of Manchester emerge,
And rivers with the fabled Styx that vie;
And chimneys numberless that blot the sky;

The factories pouring human tide on tide,
Stunted and pale, their physiognomy
Of beauty's form and meaning oft denied,
Doomed offerings at the shrine of avarice and pride.

VI.

And note their language as they pass along-
The horrid oath, loud laugh, and jest obscene,
The frequent snatches of the odious song,
The rude remarks on passers-by between ;
And lo! the gin-shop opes its jaws unclean,
And shows a mouthful of its daily meal.

Insatiate! long death's leader thou hast been:
Earth's other scourges give a time to heal—
Thy giddy hosts still down to dark destruction reel.

VII.

"Tis night-commotion reigns in street and lane, And mingling sounds come rolling on the blast, Like the far murmurs of the wintry main,

Or fire, when raging in some forest vast; And ever and anon the cab whirls past, And round reverberates the tavern bell,

And on to ruin crowds are hurrying fast : Her female finger-posts the pathway tell, Which Israel's sated king delineates so well.*

Prov. vii.

VIII.

Where yonder gate unfolds its iron wings,
And yields an entrance to the gay saloon,
Whose light around a dazzling lustre flings,
That mocks the glories of the cloudless moon,
Coach upon coach comes clattering up, and soon
Clink go the steps, descends the mincing fair,

Light as the snow-flake, skims the ground, a boon Of perfume giving to the smoky air.

What gewgaws, jewels, gems, and frippery are there!

IX.

And what a cloud of suffering and sin

Has been, ere furnished was this scene of show? Vices, and crimes of darkest hue and kin,

All pangs the body and the mind can know— Hearts broken, floods of tears been made to flow, And weary limbs through many an irksome hour, And nakedness, and hunger, all that grow

From selfishness, when backed by Mammon's power— Youth, manhood, beauty, crushed like to a trodden flower.

X.

That lady, bright as dream of earliest love,
Mark ye the gold upon her bosom shine.
Know that its history's registered above:
The slave's heart burst that dug it from the mine,
Long ere that life had warranted decline-

Scourged, starved, distorted, he had breathed his last,
And that his dying lips had dared repine,
His mangled body to the fowls was cast,

Scarce ratified as man's by those who shuddering past.

Darkening the distance comes a funeral train,
With all the proud appendages of wo.
Is it the scion of some ancient strain

On whom has fallen the inevitable blow?

Fame, through her thousand trumpets, answereth, "No

"One that by trade to princely wealth did rise.

66

"Much to the church he gave at last, although

Through life this truth once never met his eyes"That God will mercy have, and not a sacrifice."*

XII.

Man! what a strange anomaly art thou!

Tyrant or slave, oppressing or oppressed, Fighting for wealth or bread with beating brow, By wants fictitious, imaged ills distressed, Now by ambition on through peril pressed. Religion's truths, so beautiful, so plain,

Perverted, mystified, or trimmed, as best Yields arms to power, or plentitude to gain,

Till what God meant for bliss at last becomes thy bane.

*Hosea vi. 6.

XIII.

Thy creed is formed for thee, and stamped in youth, As is the seal on wax when it is hot;

And though around should shine enlivening truth In after years, alas ! it matters not;

Thou warr'st thy little hour, art gone, forgot. And whence come half the ills our life that try? Earth's teeming cities, solitudes remote, In tones of tempest "IGNORANCE" reply, The deep, the very grave is heard to join the cry.

XIV.

But now the sun has gained meridian height,
And every spot of earth is glad and gay;
The gloomy cavern's mouth itself seems bright,
Like dark deceit, that welcomes to betray;
Old ocean trolls his merry roundelay,
Life drinks enjoyment's limpid fountain free
And while I thus the happy scene survey,
My soul! what thrilling thoughts arise in thee;
An earnest, and a glance of immortality.

CALF OF MAN, May, 1844.

;