Literary cadet, and Saturday evening bulletin. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1826-1827, 1827-01-13
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POETRY.

had not our poetical department been hlied up ere
it reached us.
The Ballad i. from the pen ofthe late DIR. TRoT-
TER, Of the British Navy, and author Of one OF the
abest trestes on the vice Of ofinemperance, that ha.
ever been published. lie was philan,hrophist-
a man Of genius and learning-and deserved a bet
ter fortune than that which attended him.
This little poem will be read with satisfaction by
the lover. Of the pastoral, well as the lovers OF
the athletic, the beautiful and the refined. We
wish that our columns were always enriched with
such effosions.
THE SNOW STOM-A BALLAD.
Una requiescant in urna.
The day Wa. 20 dreary, the wird from the east,
The cold it pinchlng to man and to beast,
Aud the clouds seemed to labor with snow
When William mad drove all h,s 1ocks to the farm.
To shelter them we'll, and to keep them from harm,
For he saw by the skies 1t woul soon be a storm,
And he thought it would buster and blow.
Aud now, said the shepherd, my flock is al sure,
NV cows from the fell. and my bleaters secure,
Besides. II IS Saturday night
And # should iolter, and stay me away,
AnI np, see nv Mary, an what might she say
Sne might think that her William WIS gong to stray
She might think II was coidness or spite
lie whi.,led on Tinker, he threw round his plaid.
Nor iear'd he dark night, while he sought the denr
maid
For oft had he trampled that way:
The snow how !, driiiel, and how the wind blew.
But what Wa. the storm 10 a over so true
Or the depth OF the snow, sho"ld he meet but with
you,
Sweet Mary, thy presence was May.
Away AS he b,ed thought no i'll could bei1e,
And hi. poor faithful dog trudgng close by his side
For they had no great distance 10 roam
"Through the waste and the woodland and turn
ins the stile,
Why the whole Of the journey is scarcely mile,
Let me see but my Mary, one kiss and smlle,
And then III return to my home.
Come Tinker, come me for fear you should
stray,
The snow it grow, deeper. more tracke's the way,
And wish not to leave you behind:
n Tinker should tarry my Mary would sigh,
How she calls you dear fellow aud watches your
eye:
How she pats on your head, when she bids you
good bye,
Hel hear, is so tender and kinl!'
More dark grew the night, and more fierce the wind
blew,
When IL, church on the hi | WA. Fl g, sna,chi from
his view,
Ye he thought that he heard the church bell;
Come, Tinker. before me- aud fud out the way,
For Nary will wonder what mahes u to stay,
And travellers in winter are apt for to stray,
Such -torie. of pilgrims they tell"
Hi- 'sthful companion, the snow drifts among,
Bark'd loud ~ he cheer'd his iov'd master along,
For no moon or a star could be seen;
AWAY then he wander II. benumbn AID so chill.
And no more saw the church on the top OF The hill.
Or the light that had eamd IRON the ho"se oi the
mill,
And the frost il was nipping and keeA.
H. dreaded the cliffthat hung over the wave,
And The hali-irozen pool oft the wanderers grave,
Then breathles. and pale with the blast;
"Thou Father Almighty, thou Ruler on High!
Whose storms shake the ocean, the earth, and the
sky,
o protect but nv love- and contented de"-
Thu. he prayd. and these words were MS last
To the lone humble cottage where Mary fororn,
Cn ,opes and on fears alternately borue,
Poor Tinker rxn swift for relief;
Fl. pawd ai the threshholri, he fawn'd at her foot.
Now bowling with an. uish no rrostratc and mnte
'Tw ould have melted Satyr to see the dumb brute
But Mary was frantic with grief.
"This mantle, hi, present, shall shroud my cold
And III search for my love in the depth Of the
storm,
Come, Tinker, and show where he lies :
Last tight how dream'd that my William was here
AL bi,he an 80 gay, like the Sprins Of the year;
All me how MS voice seems To th'iu ~ my ear.
How feast ON the glance OF his eyes"
She wrapt ,ouud her mantle, to shroud her cold
form.
And her soft flowing locks wav' abroad 10 the storm
Till icicles hung from her hair:
That bosom, where William had often reclined
Was rudely caress'd 10y the rough piercing wind,
Yet STILL as IT painted, it brought him to mind
For deep was his owe printed there.
She pau.d a. she passj where the hawthorn tree
rev,
For first IN ts shade mad lie vowed to be true,
A ~ she sigh'd as she bade il adIeu-
Shn t,lkj to tn, cliff that ha ngs over the wave.
Aud the half frozen pool, now the wanderers -rave,
The snow drifted round her-ose shrek more h Q
"Now William, I slumber with you"
Three y. and three nights the loud tempest did
last,
Nor shrunk from the weather, nor 'car'd by the
blast,
Poor Tmkctwas faithful to death
n. waclid Ger the spot where the lovers were |ad
Where William found IN The arms ofthe maid
On the hand tina, had fed him he dropped his old
head,
And gasping resign'd his last breath.
In sorrowful dir !e they were borne tn their home
Aud many q villager mourn'd a, their tomb,
And wept a. they bade it sdeu;
Aud you who may read this sad tale relate.
n. A.