BRANTHWAITE HALL,

AND

OTHER POEMS.

Alas! our young affections run to waste,
Or water but the desert-whence arise
But weeds of dark luxuriance, tares of haste,
Rank at the core, though tempting to the eyes,
Flowers whose wild odours breathe but agonies,
And trees whose gums are poison; such the plants
Which spring beneath her steps as passion flies
O'er the world's wilderness, and vainly pants
For some celestial fruit forbidden to our wants.

BYRON.

TO MR. JOHN RICHARDSON, SEN.,

COCKERMOUTH.

SIR,

In the year 1837, influenced by peculiar circumstances, I carried to the press a few poems, which I dedicated to a loved and esteemed sister, now no more

During unemployed time, since then, I have finished a concluding canto to the principal piece in that publication, and other poems, that some friends have considered worthy of appearing in type.

If their judgment be correct, I beg leave to present them to you.

In this day of national advancement, the man who devotes time and talents to the moral and religious education of youth, among the labouring classes of the community is a benefactor to his species, whose merit will suffer no diminution if compared and placed in juxtaposition with the most dignified and elevated patriots and statesmen of his time and country.

The successful superintendence and management of a school of public instruction, such as I have described, for a period of thirty-seven years, at Cockermouth, entitles you to the respect and esteem of the public at large permit me to add, as a unit in that body, my voice in this dedication, to the general sentiment, and to wish you health long to continue your praiseworthy exertious.

I am, with these sentiments,

Your obedient Servant,

W. H.