200 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Jan. 1], 1828. 



MISCELLANIES. 



FANCY IN NUBIBUS. 



A SONNET C03IP0SED ON THE SEA COAST. 



O! il is nleasanl wilh a heart at ease, 

 Just after sunset, or liy moonlight skies. 

 To make the shiltiiig clouds be what you please, 

 Or bid tlie easily persuaded eyes 

 Own each strange likeness issuing from the mould 

 Of a friend's fancy ; or with head bowed low, 

 And cheek aslant see rivers flow of gold 

 •Twixt crimson banks, and then a tia\eiler go 

 From mount to mount o'er Cloi'ULand, gorgeous land '. 

 Or listen to the tide with closed sight. 

 Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand. 

 By those deep sounds possess'd with inward light, 

 Behold the Iliad and the Odyssee 

 Rise to the swelling o( the voiceless sea ! 



S. T. COLERIDGE. 



ANTIQUE POETRY. 



The following eccentric, but tender and touching lines are 



from the *' Exequy," a poem on the death of his wife, by Dr 



Henry King, bishop of Chichester,Eng. in the reign of Charles I. 



Bleep on, my love, in thy cold bed 



Never to be disquicied ! 



.■Vly last good night ! thou wilt not wake 



Till I thy fate shall overtake ; 



Till age, or gnef, or sickness must 



Marry my body to that dust 



It so much loi'es ; and fill the room 



jVly heart keeps empty in the roinb. 



Stay lor me there ; 1 will not fade 



To meet thee in tliai hollow vale, 



And think not much of my delay } 



1 am already on the way. 



And follow thee with all the speed 



Desire can make or sorrow breed. 



Each minute is a short degree, 



And c'v'ry houre a step towards thee, 



At night when I betiike to rei«!, 



Next morn I rise nearer my west 



Of life, almost by eight faoures' saile 



Thau when sleep breath'd his drowsie gale. 



Thus from the Sun my bottom siears 



And my dayes compass downward bears j 



Nor labor 1 to stem the tide 



Through which to thee 1 swiftly glide. 



•Tis true, with shame^nd grief 1 yield, 



Thou like the vaim first took'st the field, 



And gotten hast the victory 



In thus adventuring to dy 



Reiorc me, whose more years might cra\c 



A just precedence in the grave. 



But heark ! my pulse like a soft drum 



Beats my approach, tells thee 1 come \ 



.And slow liowe'ere my marches be, 



I shall at last sit down by thee. 



The thought of this bids me go on, 

 .\nd wait m}' dissolution 

 With hope and comfort. Dear, (ibrgive 

 The crime) I am content to live 

 Divided, but with half a heart, 

 Till we shall meet and never part. 



made me leave this city. Taking refuge in the 

 walls of Tariffe, your father Sancho assailed me 

 there. Finally, I sought a grave in the e.xtremi- 

 ties of Spain, on the shore of Gibraltar, and your 

 fury has fotiud me out even here. Point out to 

 me the spot on earth where I may die undisturb- 

 ed by a Spaniard. 



LITERATURE OF THE MOORS. 



A species of literature which was comraoa a- 

 raong the Moors, and which tlie ISpani.trds have 

 imitated from them is tiiat of Romances and Nov- 

 els. The Arabs were always and are still great 

 story-tellers. In the depths of the deserts of Asia 

 and Africa, under he tents of the Bedouins, they 

 collect together in groups to hear some love sto- 

 ry. They will listen ii silence and follow the re- 

 citer with interest, and show by their tears how 

 deeply they are aifected by the relation. 



At Granada they joined to this natural taste for 

 stories, a love for music and singing. 



CHARACTER OF THE MOORS. 



The defects in their chardcter which Vi^ere the 

 cause of their ruin, were relievrd by qualities 

 which the Christians themselves could not but ac- 

 knowledge. As brave and as cautious as the 

 ' Spaniards, but less disciplined and less skillful, 

 jthey were yet superior to them in the attack. — 

 Adversity did not bend them down until they saw 

 I in it the will of heaven, and tliey then submitted 

 without a murmur. Tiie do^^ma of fatality con- 

 tributed, no doubt, to i;ive them this virtue. Re- 

 liirious observers of the laws of iMahomet, they 

 practised with e.xactness the delightful law of 

 charity ; they gave to the poor, not casual bounty 

 only, but a portion of their grain, fruit, flocks, and 

 all their effects. 



In the riiy and in the country the sick were 

 sought out and attended with a most scrupulous 

 piety. 



Hospitality, always sacred among the Arabs, 

 was not less so at Granada. Its exercise was to 

 I them no less a duty than a pleasure, and we can- 

 ( not read without emotion the anecdote of an old 

 .man of Granada, to whom a stranger soiled with 

 i blood and pur.sued by justice applied for shelter. 

 :The old man concealed him in his house. At the 

 'same time the guards arrived, bearing the dead 

 (body of his son. just murdered by the stranger, 

 (and demanded the murderer. The unfortunate 

 I father refused to give np his host ; but when the 

 I guards had gone, he said to the assassin, " Flee 



grow against: and many of these walls, though 

 close to so large a place as Paris, are built quite in 

 the open ground, at a distance from any house, not 

 enclosing a piece of ground, but merely one line of 

 wall; so that, if tlie people passing were inclined 

 to sttal the fine fruit that grows in this way they 

 might, without hindrance ; nevertheless, the gar- 

 deners (who garden for profit) do not find any rea- 

 son to apprehend such depredation. 



From original Papers in the British Museum, 

 first published in the Monthly Review : 



"Rates of Laborers' and Hierers' wages, ap- 

 pointed at the Generall Sessions for the peace, 

 within the City of Chester. Anno. 38, R. Eliza- 

 beths.' 



2.^5= 



When instead of the witnesses or the clients of 

 each other, gentlemen of the bar pour their wit, 

 or their abuse upon their own fraternity, the spec- 

 tacle from without the bar is deemed not only 

 amusing but appropriate. The follow ing ludicrous 

 scene of this sort is said to have lately taken place 

 in our Marine Court, between two gentlemen of 

 the bar — the one rather ftt and the other rather 

 small : — 



Brother Fat. — (to the ( ourl) I don't care what 



Mr. says ; he is only a moscheto, and I don't 



mind their sting. 



Brother Small. — I beg your pardon, Mr. : 



but it is a fact in natural history, that moschetos 



never sting hogs. 



c , r •. 11 u •.. J » I Brother Fat. — Is it so, Mr. ? then you had 



from my house, for it will be penmtted to me to ' , ^ . , . ^ , ,„ ■ 



^ ! better inform your acquaintances of It ; they U be 



[PURSUE you. 



SHORT HAND METHOD OF CONVERTING THE 

 JIOORS. 



When Granada capitulated, Ferdinand formally 

 assured all the Moors who chose to remain, the 

 free use of their worship. This treaty, however, 

 was grossly violated. Thrv were forced to ab 



TrmslM from Precis Hutoriqu, surles Mwir,, D'E^pagne, j„re their fnitli upon their knees by the most -lis 

 Jur ine Nem England lanncr. ■' -, '^ „ ,. ,,. ■,.... 



ANECDOTE OK AN OLD MOOR. 



" When Gibraltar was taken by Fordinaml 4th, 

 lie expelled the Moors. Among the fugitives was 



graceful means. Ferdinand himself ailniini.-teri-d 

 ! baptism, sword in hand, to more tlini^ fi*"ty tluius- 

 iand of the vanquished. 



The ris^ht nfpr>'pertij respected in v'rmicc. — The 



glad ts hear it 



Brother Small. — Allow me, then, Mr. , to 



communicate it to you among the first. 



Here the court, amid a roar of laiiffhter, called 

 the gentlemen to order — .'V. Y. Advo. 



I niiite Mustard Seed. 



I For sals at the office of the New England Farmer, llie iest 

 : English White Mustard seed , by l lie jioiind or i u.«heJ. 

 i Siberian Parshy. 



1 Just received at the of?iee of the N.w Eii^lnra' Farmer, afew 

 i lbs. .Siberian Parsley Seed. This plant is peifrcity hanW .stand- 

 i ins: our severest tcin/erf! : am! would probafly be the best sort lo 

 .sow with grass, as ren)!nmonded io the last New England 

 Farmer, as well as for cullivatiou iu gardens The Seed was 



..r, r.\,\ .,...n luho tit^onr,.;,, , r.^„. i:„ . 1 «u , , ■ '^ ' '' ' ' ■'- larnier. as wen as lor cuiiivatiou lu earrtrns Iiie aeed wai 



an old m.in, who, observing lordinimd, approiicb- hnd just round Paris, consists in vineyards, or in I originally procured from Russia, a lew years since, by a gentle 



ed, and leaning on his cane, thus addressed him. jjardens full of various sorts of vegetables for the ''• — 



" King of Castile, what have I done to thee or niaikel of Paris, and walled gardens, for the cul- 



ihine? \ our great grandfather Ferdinand drove tivation of peach, apricot, nectarine, and plum- 



me from Seville, my native country. I sought an trees. There are very few fences made use of, 



asylum at Xcres ; your grandfather Alphonso besides the walls, which are built for the trees to 



man in this vichiity. 



.Tan. - 



Dutch Bulbous Roots. 



.Tusl received atthc ofiiee of the New England Farmer, a fiir- 

 tlier supply of fine double and s'mgle Hyacinths. Tulips, Narcii- 

 sus. Tuberoses, Jacobean Lilies, Tiger l.ilies, Ranunculus, ^ ■ 



Also, a few POTATO ONIONS— with every variety of G- 

 den Seeds, F/cKcr Seeds, ^-c. 



