They said, I was a wealthy man ; 'Do this! how can we give to you,' 6 They cried, what to the poor is due?' VI. I sold a sheep, as they had said, A woeful time it was for me, To see the end of all my gains, The pretty flock which I had reared With all my care and pains, To see it melt like snow away— VII. Another still! and still another! A little lamb, and then its mother! Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped. 'Till thirty were not left alive They dwindled, dwindled, one by one; And I may say, that many a time Were but the bitter struggle past.* This couplet, explanatory of the wish, is an improvement of the later editions. Formerly the stanza ended thus: They dwindled one by one away For me it was a woeful day. VIII. To wicked deeds I was inclined, No ease, within doors or without; I went my work about ; And oft was moved to flee from home, And hide my head where wild beasts roam. IX. Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me, God cursed me in my sore distress; And every week, and every day, X. They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see ! I had but only one : * Ofttimes I thought to run away For me it was a woeful day.-Edit. 1815. And here it lies upon my arm, To-day I fetched it from the rock ; A COMPLAINT. THERE is a change—and I am poor; What happy moments did I count ! A well of love-it may be deep- -Such change, and at the very door 1806. RUTH.* WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, And she had made a pipe of straw, Beneath her father's roof, alone She seemed to live; her thoughts her own; Herself her own delight; Pleased with herself, nor sad, nor gay; And, passing thus the live-long day, She grew to woman's height. There came a Youth from Georgia's shore— A military casque he wore, With splendid feathers drest; He brought them from the Cherokees; The feathers nodded in the breeze, And made a gallant crest. * Written at Goslar, in Germany, 1798. It is remarkable that at so early an age the Poet should have produced a work of such pure and delicate pathos. From Indian blood you deem him sprung : And, when America was free From battle and from jeopardy, With hues of genius on his cheek The moon, the glory of the sun, And streams that murmur as they run, He was a lovely Youth! I guess The panther in the wilderness Was not so fair as he; And, when he chose to sport and play, No dolphin ever was so gay Upon the tropic sea. Among the Indians he had fought, And with him many tales he brought Such tales as told to any maid By such a Youth, in the green shade, Were perilous to hear. He told of girls—a happy rout! Who quit their fold with dance and shout, Their pleasant Indian town, To gather strawberries all day long; Returning with a choral song When daylight is gone down. |