That I may with ecstatic view,
My future heritage descry,
Where pleasures spring forever new,
And perfect love shall never die.
[Remorse.]
What racking fear, what painful grief
Ensue a pleasant sin!
In vain the world proffers relief
For maladies within.
Its blandishments and smooth deceit
No real succor bring;
Its remedies but irritate
And pleasure leaves a sting.
Confusion, shame, and slavish fear
O’erwhelm a guilty mind;
A burden more than I can bear,
My sins upon me bind.
Oh had I weighed the matter well
Ere my consent was given!
Avoided then the gates of hell
And urged my way to heaven!
Lord, give me strength now to resume
My former confidence;
Remove my terrors, bid me come
With hopeful penitence.
In mercy hear my humble cry,
Redeem my soul from sin,
My guilty conscience pacify
And speak the peace serene.
[Morning.]
But now the dawn of day appears,
And now the dappled East declares
Ambrosial morn again arrived,
And nature’s slumbering powers revived,
And while they into action spring
The infant breeze with odorous wing,
Perfumes of sweetest scent exhales,
And the enlivened sense regales,
With sweets exempt from all alloy
Which neither irritate nor cloy.
Nor less the calmly gladdened sight
Enjoys the milder forms of light,
Reflected soft in twinkling beams,
From numberless translucent gems.
But now Aurora dries her tears,
And with a gayer mien appears,
With cheerful aspect smiles serene,
And ushers in the splendid scene
Of golden day: while feeble night
Precipitates his dreary flight
Dispelled by the all cheering sway
Of the resplendent God of day,
Who, mounted in his royal car,
And all arrayed in golden glare
With arduous career drives on
Ascending his meridian throne:
From thence a Sovereign of the day,
His full-grown glories to display.
[Edwin Evans Ewing.]
Edwin Evans Ewing, son of Patrick Ewing and brother of William Pinkney Ewing, was born on his father’s farm on the Octoraro creek, not far from Rowlandville, in this county, on the 9th of January, 1824. His family is of Scotch-Irish extraction, and settled on the Octoraro more than a century ago. The family has long been distinguished for the intellectuality and literary ability of its members, among whom were the Rev. John Ewing, one of the most eminent scientists and Presbyterian divines of his time, and his daughter Sarah, who became the wife of John Hall, and whose biography is published in this volume.
The subject of this sketch spent his youth and early manhood, on his father’s farm. Recently when asked for a sketch of his life Mr. Ewing replied: “I didn’t have any life. I just growed like Topsy. I didn’t have any educating. I just picked it up; and as for poetry, I never wrote any, only rhyme.” Notwithstanding this assertion, Mr. Ewing being unable to resist the prompting of the “divinity which stirred within him,” when quite young, began to write poetry. There seems to be a subtle influence pervading the romantic Octoraro hills, which if not the direct cause of poetic inspiration seems to encourage its growth, Mr. Ewing being one of five poets who claim that region as their birthplace, or who have profited by a residence therein.
When quite young Mr. Ewing wrote poetry which was published in the local journals of Cecil and Lancaster counties, and subsequently contributed poetry to the Philadelphia Dollar Newspaper, being a contemporary contributor to that journal with his brother, William P. Ewing, and the late David Scott (of James.)
In 1856 Mr. Ewing made a trip to the Southwest, traveling extensively on horseback in Texas. He gave an account of his travels and a description of the country through which he passed in a series of letters published in the Cecil Whig, which were much admired.