SIMON LEE, THE OLD HUNTSMAN; WITH AN INCIDENT IN WHICH HE WAS CONCERNED. IN the sweet shire of Cardigan, No man like him the horn could sound, The halloo of Simon Lee. In those proud days, he little cared For husbandry or tillage; To blither tasks did Simon rouse The sleepers of the village. He all the country could outrun, Could leave both man and horse behind; And often, ere the chase was done, For when the chiming hounds are out, But, oh the heavy change!-bereft Of health, strength, friends, and kindred, see! Old Simon to the world is left In liveried poverty. His Master's dead, and no one now Dwells in the Hall of Ivor; Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead; And he is lean and he is sick; His body, dwindled and awry, Rests upon ankles swoln and thick; His legs are thin and dry. One prop he has, and only one, His wife, an aged woman, Lives with him, near the waterfall, Beside their moss-grown hut of clay, This scrap of land he from the heath Oft, working by her Husband's side, And, though you with your utmost skill That they can do between them. Few months of life has he in store As he to you will tell, For still, the more he works, the more My gentle Reader, I perceive O Reader! had you in your mind What more I have to say is short, It is no tale; but, should you think, One summer-day I chanced to see The mattock tottered in his hand; "You're overtasked, good Simon Lee, I struck, and with a single blow At which the poor old Man so long The tears into his eyes were brought, -I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds. MATTHEW. In the school of is a Tablet, on which are inscribed, in gilt letters, the names of the several persons who have been Schoolmasters there since the foundation of the School, with the time at which they entered upon and quitted their office. Opposite to one of those names, the author wrote the following lines. IF Nature, for a favourite child, Read o'er these lines; and then review Its history of two hundred years. |