Omniana.
THE SEASON OUT OF TOWN.
For the Table Book.
The banks are partly green; hedges and trees
Are black and shrouded, and the keen wind roars,
Like dismal music wand’ring over seas,
And wailing to the agitated shores.
The fields are dotted with manure—the sheep
In unshorn wool, streak’d with the shepherd’s red,
Their undivided peace and friendship keep,
Shaking their bells, like children to their bed.
The roads are white and miry—waters run
With violence through their tracks—and sheds, that flowers
In summer graced, are open to the sun,
Which shines in noonday’s horizontal hours.
Frost claims the night; and morning, like a bride,
Forth from her chamber glides; mist spreads her vest;
The sunbeams ride the clouds till eventide,
And the wind rolls them to ethereal rest.
Sleet, shine, cold, fog, in portions fill the time;
Like hope, the prospect cheers; like breath it fades;
Life grows in seasons to returning prime,
And beauty rises from departing shades.
January, 1827. P.
THE SIEGE OF BELGRADE.
Addressed to the Admirers of Alliteration,
and the Advocates of Noisy Numbers.
Ardentem aspicio atque arrectis auribis asto.—Virgil.
An Austrian army awfully arrayed,
Boldly by battery besieged Belgrade:
Cossack commanders cannonading come,
Dealing destruction’s devastating doom;
Every endeavour engineers essay,
For fame, for fortune fighting—furious fray!
Generals ’gainst generals grapple, gracious G—d!
How honours heaven heroic hardihood!
Infuriate—indiscriminate in ill—
Kinsmen kill kindred—kindred kinsmen kill:
Labour low levels loftiest, longest lines,
Men march ’mid mounds, ’mid moles, ’mid murderous mines:
Now noisy noxious numbers notice nought
Of outward obstacles, opposing ought,—
Poor patriots!—partly purchased—partly press’d,
Quite quaking, quickly, “Quarter! quarter!” quest;
Reason returns, religious right redounds,
Suwarrow stops such sanguinary sounds.
Truce to thee, Turkey, triumph to thy train
Unwise, unjust, unmerciful Ukraine!
Vanish, vain victory! vanish, victory vain!
Why wish we warfare? Wherefore welcome were
Xerxes, Ximenes, Xanthus, Xaviere
Yield, yield, ye youths! ye yeomen, yield your yell!
Zeno’s, Zampatee’s, Zoroaster’s zeal,
Attracting all, arms against acts appeal!
NAMES OF PLACES.
For the Table Book.
The names of towns, cities, or villages, which terminate in ter, such as Chester, Caster, Cester, show that the Romans, in their stay among us, made fortifications about the places where they are now situated. In the Latin tongue Castra is the name of these fortifications—such are Castor, Chester, Doncaster, Leicester: Don signifies a mountain, and Ley, or Lei, ground widely overgrown.
In our ancient tongue wich, or wick, means a place of refuge, and is the termination of Warwick, Sandwich, Greenwich, Woolwich, &c.
Thorp, before the word village was borrowed from the French, was used in its stead, and is found at the end of many towns’ names.
Bury, Burgh, or Berry, signifies, metaphorically, a town having a wall about it, sometimes a high, or chief place.
Wold means a plain open country.
Combe, a valley between two hills.
Knock, a hill.
Hurst, a woody place.
Magh, a field.
Innes, an island.
Worth, a place situated between two rivers.
Ing, a tract of meadows.
Minster is a contraction of monastery.
Sam Sam’s Son.