The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1841-11-19


And terraced lawns, whose bright arcades
The honey -suckle swcctly shades,
And rocks, whose very crags seem bowers,
So gay they are with grass and flowers!
But the abbot was thinking Of scenery,
About as much, in soolh,
As a lover thinks of consistency,
Or an advocate oflrulh,
lie did not mark how the skies in wrath
Grew dark above his head;
lie did not mark how the messy path
Grew damp beneath his tread;
And nearer he came, and still more near,
TO pool, in whose recess
The water had slept for many year,
Unchanged and motioness;
From the river stream it spread away
The space of halfa rood;
The surface had the hue of clay
And the scent o { human blood;
The trees and the herbs that round it grew
Were venomous and ionl
And the bir.'s that through the bushes flew
Were the yulIure and the owl;
The water was as dark and rank
As ever a Company pumped; bank,
And the perch, that was netted and laid on the
Grew rotten while it jumped;
And bold was he who hlfer came
AT midnight, man or boy;
For the place was cursed with an evil name,
And that name was 1.-The Devils Decoy"
The abbot was weary as abbot could he.
And he sat down to rest on stump Of tree:
When suddenly rose n dismal tone
Was it a song, or was lit moan?
'Oh, no! Oh, no!
Above, below
Lightly and brightly they glide and 90:
The hungry and keen on the top are leapng,
The lazy and fat in the depths are sleeping;
Fishing is fine when the pool is muddy,
Broing is rich when the Goals are ruddy!'
In a monsrous fright, by the murky light,
He looked to the left aud looked to the right,
And what was the vision close before him,
That flung such sudden stupor DER him
Twas sight to make the hair uprise
And the life-blood colder run;
The startled priest struck both his thighs,
And the abbey clock struck one
Allalone, by the side of the pool
A tall man sat on a lhrce-legged stool,
Kicking his heels on the dewy sod,
And putting in order his reel and rod;
Red were the rags his shoulders wore,
And a high red cap on his head he bore;
His arms and his legs were long and bare;
And two or three locks of long red hair
Were tossing about his scrnggy neck,
Like a tattered flag DER splitting wreck.
II might be Time, or it might be trouble,
Had ben, that stout back nearly double
Sunk in their deep and hollow sockets
That blazing couple of Congrcye rockets.
And shrunk and shrveled that tawny skin,
Till it hardly covered the bones within.
The line the abbot saw him throw
Had been fashioned and formed long ages ago,
And the hands that worked his foreign vest
Long ages ago had gone to their rest:
SOu would have sworn, as you looked on them,
lie had tished in the food with Ham and Shem!
There were turning of keys, and creaking of locks,
As he took forth bait from his iron box.
Nlinnow or gentle, worm or fly
1t seemed not such to the abho's eye:
GaIy it glittered with jewel and gem,
And its shape was the shape Of dadem.
1t was fastened Il cleaning hook about,
BY chain within and chain without;
The fisherman gave it a kick and spin,
And the water fixed rs It ,umbIed in!
From the bowels of the earth,
Strange and varied sound. had birth
Now the battles bursting peal,
Neigh of steed, and clang of steel;
Now an old mans hollow groan
Echoed from the dungeons stone;
Now the weak aud waiIilg cry
Ola strpling's agony!
Cold by this was the midnight air;
But the abbol's blood ran colder,
Whea he saw gasping knight lay there,
With cash beneath his cloted hair,
And hump upon his shoulder
And the royal churchman strove in vain
To mutter a Pater Noster;
For he who wrhed IN mortal pain
Was canped thar night on Bosworth plain
The cruel Duke Of Glosler
There were turning of keys and creaking Of locks,
As he took forth bait from his iron box.
II was haunch Of plincly size,
Filling with fragrance earth and skies
The corpulent abbot knew full well
The swelling form, and the Streaming smell;
Never monk that wore hood
Could better have guessed the verv wood
Where the noble hart had stood at bay
Weary and wounded, at close Of day.
Sounded then the noise glee
Ola reveling company
SPrgh,ly story, wicked jest,
Rated servant, greeted guest,
Flow Of wine, and flight of cork
Stroke Of knife, and thrust of fork:
But, where'er the board was spread,
Grace, WeeD, was never said
Pulling and Juggling the fisherman sat:
And the priest was ready TO vonst,
When he hauled ont gentleman fine and fat.
With belly as big as trimming vat,
Aud nose as red as comet
"A capital Stew the fisherman sad
with cinnamon and sherry!'
And the abbot turned away his head,
For his brother was laying before him dead,
The mayor OF St. Edmond's Bury
There was turning of keys, and creakirg of locks,
As he took forth bait from his iron box.
II was a bundle Of beautiful things
Apeacock tail, aud butteray's wings.