Part 2

Befoore the silvery neeght ov age, The precepts ov the sacred page, His meditation did engage, That race te run; Like thooase, who 'spite o' Satan's rage, The praaze hed won.

Bud noo his een's geean dim i' deeath, Neea mare a pilgrim here on eearth, His sowl flits fra' her shell beneeath, Te reealms o' day, Whoor carpin care, an' pain, an' deeath, Are deean away.

Wi'oot the author's neeame or leeave, They'd put his stoory thruff the sieve, An' roond his circuit set the screeve O' justice keen, Fra' crotchet cramp, or semibreeve, Te sift him cleean.

The charge 'at they ageenst him bring,-- He harps teea mitch upon yah string, Or triumphs like a lahtle king, Ow'r fashions gay; He's ower religious!--That's the thing They meean te say.

Yet still Awd Isaac tells his teeal, Ower monny a weeary hill an' deeal, An' 'll sumtaames into cities steeal, Nor silent be; Till infants try te lisp his theeame Across the sea.

Oor last, an' lasting interview, His wonted theeame he did renew, Fra' which, a paraphrase he drew, An' thus began, I' conversation clear, an' frindship true, Like man te man.

"Ah lahtle thowght, as weel thoo knaws, Thoo te t' public wad expooase, Mah awd gray cooat, wi' all its flaws, An' stick an' all, For want o' which, the aged prood Seea offens fall.

Ah varry leeatly gat a hint, They'd put oor stoory into prent, An' copies roond the coontry sent Beeath left and reeght; Bud if 'twur deean wi' gud intent, Gud luck gang wi' 't.

Noo all Ah sed wur meeant for gud, If it wur reeghtly understud; Te sum neea doot, t'language wud Seeam quite abrupt;-- We're all alike, ov flesh and bleead, An' hearts corrupt.

Fooaks oft leeaks mare at bleead an' breedin, Than at t'subject they are reeadin, An' thus awd prejudice is feedin, I' system's narrow, For want o' pains te crack the beean Th'oft miss t'marrow.

Men still i' spite ov all oor caution, 'Ll hanker efter heeigh promotion; Like Evan's Pills, or Rowland's Lotion Saain'd by t'King; We're seea inclin'd te self-devotion-- That's the thing.!

T' Naation still seeams discontent, Ther's strange debeeates i' parliament, Petitions on petitions sent Theer, all implorin; An' sum i' dungeons deep lament Whahl they're snoorin.

Still ower t'land t'clood hangs dull, An' we may thrust, an' they may pull; Wi' "Eys an' Nooas" the paper's full, Wi' applause an' laughter: An' all the gud for poor John Bull 'S te cum hereafter.

Still let us calmly wait the end, On God, an' nut on man, depend. Oor Nation's woond is bad te mend, Ommost incurable! His Israel he will still defend, Wi' kindness durable.

Bud numbers streeangely hev backslidden, An' deean thooase things 'at wur forbidden, An' caused His feeace for te be hidden, By actions fowl, Till scarce a ray ov whooap is left Te cheer the sowl.

T'coonsel Ah wad recommend Is all te strave ther lives te mend, An' persevere unto the end I' word an' deed. An' thooase 'll nivver want a Frind I' t' taame o' need.

Bud Ah mun cut mah stoory shoort, Or it may mack the critics spoort, Oor subject's ov too greeave a soort Te dwell upon. Afoore ye spreead yer next repoort, Ah sal be geean.

For sin' we met an' pearted last, Ah finnd mah strenth decreeasing fast, Like floor's beneeath the Nowthern blast, Yance fresh an' gay, Seea man is doom'd te droop an' waste, An' fade away.

Ah wad befoore Ah tack mah leave, Te all, mah deein coonsel give, An' if i' the truth they deea beleeave Or apprehend, That truth, whahl Ah'v a day te live _Ah will defend_."

HIS DYING ADVICE.

When Eden's floory garden smiled, Nor Eve the Sarpent hed beguil'd, Man stood upreeght an' undefiled I' maand an' feeature, An' sweetest conversation held Wi' his Creator.

Bud when that awful monster sin Hed gain'd its ugly entrance in The warld, oor sorrows did begin; Then Heaven froond, An' t' glitt'ring swoord o' Justice gleeam'd On all aroond.

Sin spreead destruction wide, an' seean Grim deeath began his feearful reign;-- Satan wi' lees an' malice keen Went teea an' fraw, The frail, the noble sons o' men Te owerthraw.

Bud the Almighty sent his aid, Enoch an' Abraham obey'd, An' Noah, Job, an' Daniel pray'd, An' Gideon too; An' mighty fooas throo mighty faith They did subdue.

Then ancient Israel's altar's blazed, An' solemn congregations gazed, An' Holy men ther voices raaized, An' trumpets soonded. Then heathen armies stood amazed, An' wur confoonded.

Then Joshua congker'd i' the vale, An' gud Elijah did prevail;-- The wicked worshippers o' Baal He owerthrew, An' showed te them the living God An' only true.

An' while the sacrifice was pure, Destruction com nut neegh ther door; I' moont or tent they wur secure By neeght or day; Whahl thraving groups o' flocks an' herds, Aroond 'em lay.

They towght an' showed ther childer hoo Ther Fathers kept ther solemn voo, When the Almighty leead 'em throo The desert land; An' hoo thooase fell 'at wad nut boo Te His command.

An' seea sud we oor childer teeach, An' i' ther ears gud doctrine preeach, Befoore corrupt ideas reeach The tender maand; An' when they up te manhood graw, The gud they'll finnd.

Ey, tell 'em whea the sarpent stung, Hoo Moses an' hoo Deborah sung, An' hoo the Holy Hebrews yoong Did walk throo fire; An' try te tune ther infant tongues Te David's lyre.

Remind 'em ov a Saviour's love, Leearn 'em the way God will approve, Te pray, an' fix ther thowghts above Eearth's fleeting joys, Which at ther best, when tried 'll proov, Bud empty toys.

Consult the worthies ov' each age, Wheas lives are doon i't' sacred page, Nor rest till all the heart engage Like them i' feight. Then we like them oor hostile fooas, Sal put te flight.

Te us they as examples stand, As guide-poosts in a weeary land, Or like seea monny beeacons grand, On mountains heeigh, Te shoo the way Jehovah's plann'd; Or deeanger neeigh.

Bud men graw noo seea warldly wise, Seea prooan te vanity an' lies, T'best o' coonsel they'll despise, Seea queer they live, They'll scarce a proper question ax, Or answer give.

Mankind i' gen'ral can espy, The mooat 'at's in anoother's eye, An' big an' busy as Paul Pry, 'Ll mark it doon;-- It helps fra' silly passers by Te hide ther awn.

Theer's numbers seeams o' t' better soort, Aroond oor chapels still resoort, An' o' convarsion mack a spoort, An' sins forgeean, An' at the truly pious shoot, Ther arrows keen.

Bud the Almighty sees ther ways, An' thof he lenthens oot ther days, An' his just rath he noo delays, 'Tis seer te cum; The stootest o' the human race, Mun meet ther doom.

Ey, when ther jolly days are spent, If they i' taame deea nut repent, They'll seerly doon te hell be sent Te revell theer, Te curse, an' fooam, an' pay ther rint I' black despair.

Freeat nut thysel when thoo doast see The wicked i' prosperity, Te floorish like a green bay tree, Or cedar tall; He like a leeaf, by firm decree, Mun feeade an' fall!

Consider thoo what hez beean sed, An' o' ther threeats be nut afraaid, Beware lest thoo sud be betray'd By ther deceit;-- An' t'Lord gie thee, an' nut upbreead, His Sperit's leeght!"

The coontry's all anxiety, Te knaw Awd Isaac's pedigree, An' sum cry oot 'tis all a lee, A meead up thing;-- Te sike we think it nut woth whahl, Oor proofs te bring.

For all that wish te knaw--may read, The sum an' substance ov his creed;-- May catch, an' saw the lahtle seed Wi' greeat success. Bud whoor he liv'd, or whoor he deed, 'Tis left te guess.

DIALOGUE ON A STEEPLE CHASE

AT P******NG, IN YORKSHIRE.

_Joe._--Weel Jim, hoo deea lad? What's t' news? Which side is thoo on? Pinks or Blues? Heer's sike a mighty stir i' t' nation, 'Tis woth a lahtle conversation. Ah want te knaw, is't reeght or wrang;-- Unless thah nerves is varry strang, Ah hev a paper i' mah pocket, 'Ll lift thah heart oot ov its socket!

_Jim._--A paper Joe! What is 't aboot, Sum munney matter, ther's neea doot! Sum Methodey or Ranter bother, Or sum Tee-total thing or other. Yan scarce can pass alang a street, Bud sum sike like yan's seer te meet, Whea'd ommost sweear 'at black is white, Te gain anoother proselyte,

_Joe._--A munney matter 'tis o' coorse, Fra' quite an opposition soorce, For by the Liverpool Recorder, 'Tis mare o' the Succession order: For it is sed by snug repoort, Religious fooaks hev geen 't support. That which we noo te nooatice bring, Ist' Steeple Chase at P******ng.

_Jim._--Whah Joe, thoo's neean o' t' warst o' fellows, Cum sit thee doon a piece an' tell us, If thoo sud think it neea disgrace, Aboot this mighty Steeple Chase; Ov hoo, an' when, an' whoor they run, For honour, munney, or for fun. Thoo's just geen me an itchin eear, Aboot the thing Ah wish'd te heear.

_Joe._--Thoo sees upon a sarten day, Ah hennut seen, but heeard 'em say; Greeat gentlemen hev hosses treean'd, Fra' lofty pedigree obteean'd, Seea full o' bleead, an' queerly towght, Te gallop thruff or ower owght: All muster at a sarten pleeace, An' this they call the Steeple Chase. A purse o' Gold they then present, An' word is thruff the coontry sent, For fower mahle, Ah think they run, An' he 'at beeats,--the steeaks his awn. Sum breeaks ther necks, wi' missin bridges, An' sum gits stuck, wi' jumpin hedges. Ey, te confarm t' truth Ah sing, They kill'd a hoss at P******ng.

_Jim._--Wha Joe, thoo quite supprises me, Te think 'at men ov heeigh degree, Sud reeally hev neea mare respect For owther men's or hosses necks.

_Joe._--A boss is nowght i' sike a keease! Bairn! sowls is nowght at t' Steeple Chase! They for a trifle swap an' sell 'em, An' t' parsons hezzen't sense te tell 'em. T' Steeple Chase is suted quite, Te glut t' carnal appetite. Thooase whea ther Baable love, an' preear, 'Ll finnd bud bareish picking theer.

_Jim._--Maund Joe, thoo izzen't ower severe, An' 'at thah coonsel be sincere. The Law hez monny curious links, Man mooan't speeak awlus as he thinks. Thof Ah me-sel feel shock'd te think, Men sud seea rush on ruin's brink: Mitch mare te be encouraged in, What mun be a presumptuous sin.

_Joe._--The mare Ah see this standard reeas'd, The mare an' mare Ah stand ameeaz'd Te think 'at parsons cannut see't, An' tell 'em pleean it izzen't reeght! 'At men sike tidings sud procleeam, An' thooase 'at beear t'Christian neeame I' spite ov all divine advice, Te sanction sike a sweepin vice.

_Jim._--Whativver be t'satisfaction, It hez a woonderful attraction; An' macks 'em freely use ther shanks, 'Specially them o' t' heeigher ranks, Fra' Scarbro', Malton, York, an' Leeds, They cum on lofty mounted steeds, Ower dazzlin ommost te behold, Wi' silver'd whips, an' cheeans o' gold. Theer's bands o' music, colours flying, Hams, an' legs o' mutton frying, Nimble waiters on the wing, Te see 'em drink, an' hear 'em sing, Ther's gamlin teeables, orange stalls, Ther's spices, nuts, an' dancin dolls. All things te sute the carnal taste, May just be foond at t' Steeple Chase.

_Joe._--Thooase men hes gitten 't i' ther power Regardless o' the sufferin poor, Te gallop ower hedge an' dyke, An' deea an' say, just what they like. An' all the while they run these rigs, An' sing, an' drink, an' dance ther jigs, They'll booast o' noble ancestry, An' mighty steeple pedigree! If onny wish the cause te knaw, Whah they are able te deea seea,-- "'Tis munney macks the meer te gang, Macks wrang seeam reeght, an' reeght seeam wrang."

_Jim._--The thing sud be te them meead knawn, Ther gold an' silver's nut ther awn. Ther cattle they abuse an' kill, Belangs to t'Lord o' Zion's hill. They sud be warn'd i' ivvery pleeace, Te gie up sike like wicked ways. Or seer as theer's a God aboon, They'll pull ther awn destruction doon.

_Joe._--They hev been warn'd an' hev refus'd, Whahl thooase gud things they hev abus'd; By which abuse they breeak God's Law, An' that he'll sum day let 'em knaw. This maks 'em breeathe pernicious breeath, An' swagger on the verge o' deeath, Whahl oothers--rayther than control, 'Ll breeak ther necks, an' loss ther sowl.

_Jim._--A man tell'd me by way o' jooak, Bud kind o' trimmel'd as he spooak, They'd Doctors pleeaced wi'in a shoot, Te slip necks in, 'at gat slipt oot.[A]

_Joe._--It's awful booastin this indeed,-- Bad sample o' beeath fruit an' seed. Sike may upbraad the warld wi' sizm, It is next deer te Socialism. Sike booastin they will sum day rue, If we admit the Baable true. All thooase mun pass a mighty change, Afoore the happy hills they range!-- Bud tiv oor teeal let us ton back, Lest we get farther fra' oor track. The day arrives, the smiling sun, Procleeams the Steeple Chase begun. On eeager eears the tumult steeals, Ov prancin steeds, an' rumblin wheels. It wur a day ov winks an' nods, Ov lofty deeds, an' lofty wods. As thof they hed for ther defence! The thunner ov Omnipotence! T' fooaks com rowlin in by skoors, Fra' neeab'rin toons, an' off o' t' moors. Like cloods ov locusts in they hale, Fra' Goadland, Sleights, an' Harwood Dale. 'Tis seerly sum enchanted string, That does sike croods tegither bring. Like bees, they roond the steeple swarm, In it they likely see neea harm.

_Jim._--Neea harm! What harm, Joe, can there be, I' seeing sike a rarity:-- Ov men an' hosses heeighly fed, Wi' priests an' squires at ther head; Ov gentlemen, an' ladies gay, As bonny as the floors i' May. Theer riches, yooth, an' beauty shine, Array'd i' silk, an' superfine. An' farmers' maidens, yoong an' fair, We wonder hoo they've taame te spare; Wi' lads ov manners rough an' rude, All mixing i' yah multitude. An' poor awd men, 'at scarce can blaw, Wi' beards an' whiskers white as snaw; Sad sample ov oor fallen race, All rollin up to t' Steeple Chase. An' farmers' sarvants leeave ther pleugh, Callin ther maister black an' blue, Whea for ther credit an' ther neeame, Hed coonsel'd them te stay at heeame. Ah met 'em as Ah com alang, (They wonder'd whah Ah waddn't gang,) Wi' roosy cheeks, an' shoothers brooad, Bettin weagers up o' t' rooad. Ther leeaks an' words at yance declare, Ther treasure an' ther hearts are theer. If yah contrary sentence drop, That mooth they quickly try te stop. When roond the splendid stand they meet, 'Twad deea a blinnd man gud te see't; Besaads the men's seea faanly drist! The Steeple Chase,--whah whea wad miss't?

_Joe._--Fra' furst te last it is desaun'd, Te pleease an' fascinate the maand; Te lift it, as on eagle's wings, An' draave off thowghts o' better things. The stewards full o' wardly wit, Pronoonce 'at all things noo are fit, When thoosands then roll up te see, As drawn by Steeple witchery. Fra' whence they cum, or whoor they dwell, If yoo've a paper it 'll tell. Ye ken the horses whea's they are, By t' colours 'at ther riders wear. Thus whether i' the rooad or noa, Wi' whip an' spur away they goa; Ower hedge an' dyke,--there's nowght can stop 'em, Unless an angry God unprop em. Thus riding ower grass, or coorn 'Ats growin,--or 'ats leeatly sown, There's neean dare lift a hand, or say, What hev ye deean, or whea's te pay, Whahl oaths profane, an' lafter lood, Are utter'd by the gaping crood;-- By some whea yance religion luv'd, Not only sanction'd, bud appruv'd! If ivv'ry ward an' secret thowght, Mun be yan day te judgment browght, Oh, how unlike sike wark as this, Is that which leads te glorious bliss! Te see 'em thus seea blithe an' merry, Wur famous pastaame for Awd Harry. If owght te him cud be delighting, 'Twad be to see 'em drunk an' feighting. He popt aboot amang t' people, At last he popt up on to't steeple, Open'd a pair ov dismal jaws, Flapt his black wings, an' yawn'd applause: Like sum prood Emperor ov awd, Upon the wether cock he rode, 'Whoor he mud all at yance survey, The grand proceedings ov the day. A flagstaff for a whip he seized, An' spurr'd the spire he wur seea pleeased, Te think it sud his cause defend, An' that his bait hed answer'd t'end.

_Jim._--Tis not for thee te criticise, On men seea greeat, seea rich, seea wise, They aim, neea doot, as weel as thee, Te gang te heeaven when they dee. What thof ther munney be bud lent, Thoo knaws 'at munney mun be spent. Besaads they hev example too,-- If t' _parson's_ theer--What's that te thoo?

_Joe._--If thooase sud miss ther passage heeame, A careless priesthood they may bleeame. Blinnd guides they are, an' t'Kirk's ther moother, An' they wean't gang te hear neea other. We Christians run a diff'rent race, Te what we call the Steeple Chase. Besaads we finnd i' Holy writ, Ther's neean cums theer 'at are nut fit.

_Jim._--Thoo meeans te proove by argument, Thooase 'at cums theer mun first repent, An' be throo Jesus Christ forgiven, Afoore they're i' the rooad te heaven. Neea carnal plissure they mun share, Bud live a life ov faith an' prayer. If thooase alone hev saving grace, Doon gangs at yance the Steeple Chase.

_Joe._--Seea legions fell fra' leeght te dark, Seea Dagon fell afoore the ark, Seea God prood Pharaoh owerthrew, Wi' Sisera, an' Goliath too. Seea fell the lords i' sad supprise, Wheas hands hed put out Samson's eyes. Thooase mighty men wur turn'd te dust, An' seean the Steeple Chasers must.

_Jim._--Whah, Joe, it caps me fair te ken, Hoo thooase heeigh flying gentlemen, Can fra' ther chasing gang te t' kirk, An' join i't' blessed Sunday's wooark, Singing wi' all ther might an' main, This heaven inspir'd, this holy strain, "Let all thy converse be sincere, "Thy conscience as the noon-day clear, "For God's all seeing eye surveys "Thy secret thoughts, thy works and ways;"-- An' then fra' t' kirk te t' Steeple Chase, An' set at nowght God's luv an' grace, Call t'dissenters, an' shoot thruff t'nation, For "_Apostolical succession_!"

_Joe._--Te bring oor converse te a close, Oor only aim is te expose, The thing Almighty God doth hate,-- Nut te provoke unkind debate. The day's nut far 'at will reveal The truth, an' fix the final seal. Sum may when its teea late te rue, } Finnd what they hoped wur false--is _true_ } Consarning everlasting woe! }

FOOTNOTES:

[A] It was a saying of one of the Riders, that he carried two or three loose necks in his pocket, in case anything happened to his own.

THE LUCKY DREEAM, OR AN AWD THING RENEWED.