594 METHODIST POETS. 



I tread the deck of the gay steamer glad, 

 Still to explore thy course, majestic Tyne ; 



To see the hills in nature's glory clad, 



And mark how art and nature here combine. 



All sights, all sounds, of ceaseless labour tell, 

 On either shore, or from the barks afloat ; 



This is no scene where idleness may dwell, 

 No spot indulgent of poetic thought ; 



Man seems not here allow'd to think or feel, 



Beyond the range of ropes, and coals, and steel. 



And far and near, on either hand abound, 



Deep pits, and long-drawn subterranean aisles, 



Where, for their use, grim enginry hath crown'd 

 Each hill or gentle slope ; while nature smiles 



Not all unlovely, amidst coal and coke, 



That night and day belch forth their clouds of smoke. 



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And, lo, how smoothly down yon iron plane, 

 Art's perfect road ! the uppiled waggons run ; 



Till gain'd the staith's pois'd platform, the long tram 

 Down to the ship below sink one by one, 

 Where, at a touch, each yieldeth its black load, 

 Then, instantly updrawn, retracks the metal road. 



Where that bold bridge, with many an arching stride, 



Unites old Durham and Northumbrian lands, 

 How do the vessels crowd the long quay side ! 



How thick the grove of masts ! how wide expands 

 The bellying sail ! how trim upon the tide, 

 Float seaward, the rigg'd sloops ! how swift the wherries glide ! 



And see that bark, without a sail or oar, 



How like a thing instinct with life she moves ! 



Her iron heart, and pulse of steam, can more 

 Than wind and wave propel and who but loves 



To sail on this smooth river, when doth flow 



The full spring-tide, and sea-borne breezes blow ? 



What countless keels ! and what a hardy race, 

 Those gaunt and grimmy rovers ! who, by threes, 



Tug at the ponderous oar ; the steersman's place 

 Another holds, and his light pole with ease 



Directs the collier vessel on her course, 



Unaided, or by sail, or steam, or horse. 



From many a mast the streamer gaily floats, 

 And right and left the red-cross flag appears ; 



But yon broad banner on the hill denotes 



The mighty strife of patriot hopes and fears 



That strife which, like a whirlwind furious grown, 



Month after month, hath through the nation blown. 



"Reform" is on the banner ; loudly swells 

 The shout "Reform !" from thousands all around ; 



" Reform" is in the music of yon bells, 



"Reform is in yon cannon's thundering sound : 



Yea, women -politicians breast the storm, 



And children children lisp " Reform, Reform !' 



