488 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



[2°<» S. X. Dkc. 22. '60. 



The first example of our author's genius needs no 

 comment. In my humble judgment, it is singu- 

 larly beautiful, and is hardly, if at all, paralleled 

 by any poet of his time. The piece is entitled, — 

 " A Contemplation on the Sight of a Tombe ntert. 



" See'st thou that marble? — mark it well. 



How still it lies: 

 Then mark and heare, and I will tell 



Thee what it is. 

 It is a Hole, where Time lays by 



Those ends bee sheares 

 From Nature's webb, uneancell'd br 



His children — yeares. 

 It is a Bed, where dry bones slieepe 



Heal'd ore with clay, 

 Till through their night-peece curtaines peepe 



Th' seternale Day. 

 A Prison, where at Death's arrest 



The corpes must pine 

 In durance till the grand Inquest 



For the debt of Sinne. 

 It is an Earth, where Man is sowne, 



Wormes till and turn it; 

 One Summer's day shall, when 'tis growne, 



Gather and burn it. 

 It is a World, where wormes are Kings — 



Where Night's the day — 

 Where Nothing is the end of things, 



And th' End, the Way." 



The next piece is of a totally different cast, and 

 exhibits not only considerable humour, but also 

 skill in the versification. Ficher's temporary lo- 

 cation was Church-Island (formerly known as 

 Ynis Teda) two miles off the eastern shore of 

 Lough Beg, and not far from the mouth of the 

 river Bann, county Antrim, a spot which, for 

 strategetical reasons, has been conspicuous in the 

 history of all the insurrections that have occurred 

 in that part of Ireland. The dilapidated church 

 in which our witty author posted his company 

 was, probably, the famous monastery founded 

 there in very early times, and dissolved at the 

 era of the Reformation. Knowing little of the 

 history, and nothing of the locality myself, I must 

 trust alike to the forbearance and correction of 

 your Irish correspondents. The poem is in the 

 form of an epistle, and is entitled — 



" Newes from Lovgh-Bagge 



In answer to my Left.- Colt. Letter 



Upon the first discovert/ 



of it. 



«gr 



"J have reade your lines, whose cheife 

 Heads thus I answer by a Briefe. 

 Last week from Toombe we did put off, 

 And hoysting sayle ranged round the Loughe ; 

 ^neas-like there seeking some 

 Fitt place for our Plantation. 

 " At last, about Bellahye, a mile 

 Or more, wee spyed a little He : 

 More by chance sure 'twas then by 

 Our cunning in Cosmography. 



"This little He, well view'd and scann'd, 

 To us appear'd some Newfound -land. 

 And glad wee were, since 'twas our happe 

 To find what was not in the mappe. 



Arriveing heere wee could not lesse 

 Then think we were in a wildernesse ; 

 Soe dismall 'twas, wee durst engage. 

 Our lives t' had beene some Hkrmitaqe. 

 And much it did perplex ourwitts 

 To think wee should turne Anchorites. 

 In this sad desart, all alone, 

 Stood an old Church, quite overgrowne 

 With age, and ivie, of little use, 

 Unlesse it were for some Recluse. 



" To this sad Church my men I led 

 And lodged the Living with the Dead. 

 The}- that dwelt heere, in this place thus 

 Demolisht, sure kept Open- House. 

 The Roofe soe rent was, and had beene 

 Soe hospitious to all Commers in 

 That crowes and schreech-owles everywhere 

 Dwelt, and had Free-quarter heere. 

 But since wee came wee had none of this, 

 Wee have altered quite th' whole aadifice, 

 And whatsoever was enorme 

 Before, wee have now made uniforme. 

 Those Birds and Crowes wee have dispossest. 

 And given them their Quietus est 

 The rainy Roofe wee have dawb'd up quite, 

 'Tis now more lasting, tho' lesse light. 

 The whole place wee have overspread 

 With shingle-boards instead of lead ; 

 Nor was it, truly, fitt or fayre 

 Wee should stand cover'd, and it stand bare. 



" Thus, like good tenants, wee have cur'd most 

 Of these decayes at our owne cost ; 

 And tho' wee noe churchwardens are, 

 Wee've put the Kirke in good repayre. 

 Without wee keepe a guard : within 

 The Chancell's made our Magazin. 

 Soe that thus arm'd, our Church may vaunt 

 Shee's truely now made Militant. 



"With works wee have inviron'd round, 

 And turn'd our Churchyard to a Pound. 

 Workes guard us everywhere, soe that 

 Tho' wee donte supererogat. 

 Or stand precisely on popish quirks, 

 Yet heere wee're saved by our works. 



" Our little Navie, in the Bay, 

 At anchor rides ; rang'd in array ; 

 Halfemoons and Brestworkes doe insconce 

 Our minor skiffs made for the nonce, 

 And tho' our I'leet have noe stonewharfe, 

 Yet 'tis secured by a counterscarpe. 



" As for the Rebells, they keep off, 

 And seldom come within the Loughe ; 

 Yet now and then wee at distance see 

 A Kearne stalking Cap-a-pe. 

 About Bellahye lurk a crew 

 Of Canniballs that lie perdue. 

 These seldom range, but closely keepe 

 Themselves, like wolves, that watch for sheepe. 

 Wee see them lively every morning. 

 And having seene them, give them warning. 

 Now and then wee send them such 

 Toakens as they dare not touch. 

 Wrapt in fire, and smoak enough 

 To purge them worse then sneezing -stufte. 



"Last night wee took upon the Loughe 

 A Gallio in a chicken -troughe. 

 Which in hir Tree did sliely steale. 

 Just like a witch in a walnut-shell. 

 I've seene as large a Coffin sould 

 For a childe of six yeares old, 

 As was hir cott, which to our sayle 

 Shewed like a whiteing to a whale. 



