Patrick Bronte

"Study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." 2 TIMOTHY ii. 15. My youthful brother, oft I long To write to you in prose or song;

All you who turn the sturdy soil, Or ply the loom with daily toil, And lowly on through life turmoil

When warm'd with zeal, my rustic Muse Feels fluttering fain to tell her news, And paint her simple, lowly views

Aloft on the brow of a mountain, And hard by a clear running fountain, In neat little cot,

I. My food is but spare, And humble my cot,

One sunny morn of May, When dressed in flowery green The dewy landscape, charmed

Should poverty, modest and clean, E'er please, when presented to view, Should cabin on brown heath, or green,

The shower is past, and the sky O'erhead is both mild and serene, Save where a few drops from on high,

The sun shines bright, the morning's fair, The gossamers float on the air, The dew-gems twinkle in the glare,

When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait,

The joyous day illumes the sky That bids each care and sorrow fly To shades of endless night:

Rude winter's come, the sky's o'ercast, The night is cold and loud the blast, The mingling snow comes driving down,