Page images


Up, Timothy, up with your Staff and away!
Not a soul in the village this morning will stay ;
The Hare has just started from Hamilton's grounds,
And Skiddaw is glad with the cry of the hounds.

-Of coats and of jackets both grey, red and green,
On the slopes of the pastures all colours were seen,
With their comely blue aprons


white as snow, The girls on the hills made a holiday show.

The bason of box-wood,* just six months before,
Had stood on the table at Timothy's door,

* In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a bason full of Sprigs of Box-wood is placed at

A Coffin through Timothy's threshold had pass'd,
One Child did it bear and that Child was his last.

Now fast up the dell came the noise and the fray,
The horse and the horn, and the hark! hark away!
Old Timothy took up his Staff, and he shut
With a leisurely motion the door of his hut.,

Perhaps to himself at that moment he said,
The key I must take, for my Ellen is dead"
But of this in my ears not a word did he speak,
And he went to the chase with a tear on his cheek,

the door of the house from which the Coffin is taken up, and each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a Sprig of this Box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased.




[ocr errors][ocr errors]



The class of Beggars to which the old man here described belongs, will probably soon be extinct. It consisted of poor, and, mostly, old and infirm persons, who confined themselves to a stated round in their neighbourhood, and had certain fixed days, on which, at different houses, they regularly received charity; sometimes in money, but mostly in provisions.

I saw an aged Beggar in my walk,
And he was seated by the highway side
On a low structure of rude masonry
Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they
Who lead their horses down the steep rough road
May thence remount at ease. The aged man
Had placed his staff across the broad smooth stone

« PreviousContinue »