John Castillo

“ His tender care hath been about thy bed,
When midnight thunders rolled above thy head!
When trembling thou beheld’st the lightning’s glare
Light up thy room, and cause thee sudden fear!
[Pg 172]
To all who need Him he is sure to prove
The best Physician too, when sick of love;
And yet all those who fall beneath his ire,
His anger doth consume and burn like fire!
How long wilt thou withhold from Him his right,
Or from thyself such permanent delight,
As He hath promis’d in His faithful word,
Such as the hills of Paradise afford?
When will thine eyes with happy tears o’erflow? ”

“ May I amidst a world of toil and care,
Still bear in mind my Shepherd’s care for me,
Weep o’er my sin, each day for death prepare,
Sigh o’er thy name-stamp’d tool, and think on thee!
“WHO HATH BELIEVED OUR REPORT?” Isaiah liii. 1.
“Who hath believed our report?”
The agonizing prophet cried;
Where do the wandering tribes resort,
For whom the King of Glory died?
His goodness doth before them pass,
The fairest of ten thousand He,
Yet sin bewilders, and alas,
In Him they can no beauty see. ”

“ My care burden’d mind can’t be still,
Though the external fabric be maim’d;
Some part must be working the will
Of Him who that fabric hath framed.
The merchant looks over his books,
And hopes well to finish the day;
So life hath some corners and nooks,
It might not be wrong to survey.
If the morning of life we behold,
When all seems delightful and bright,
The rosebud doth scarcely unfold,
But ’tis gone as a dream of the night!
If to youth our attention we turn,
When all is enchanting and free;
When very few know how to mourn,
And all things seem pleasant and gay. ”

“ On seeing the horse’s leg sink into a grave up to the lisk, the following thoughts suggested themselves.
What foot is that disturbs my rest,
Which through my coffin lid hath press’d,
And caus’d my bones the air to feel?—
It is the parson’s horse’s heel!
’Tis hard so much as there’s to pay,
That corpses cannot quiet lay,
But are by cow or horse plough’d up,
For priests to reap a three-fold crop!
Through such a process they must pass,
The grave, the tombstone, and the grass,
And Easter Offering beside:—
These claims must never be denied! ”

“ While faith to a flame fans the Heav’nly spark,
And they earnestly press to the skies!
May the husband incessantly plead for the wife,
The wife for her husband contend;
That the favour of God which is better than life,
May on both through the Spirit descend!
May the lover’s petition be heard for the fair,
And the maiden prevail for the youth;
Till all those who for righteousness never did care,
Feel the force of Religion and Truth!
May thy ministers fill’d with the Spirit of God,
As giants prevail o’er their foes ”

“ A sinner when he sees himself aright,
Sees that his brightest day is turned to night;
The things that once were his delight and joy,
Do all his fondest hopes at once destroy!
God’s Book like Sinai’s mount to him appears,
Its sentences like thunder stun his ears!
He strives to soothe himself, but strives in vain,
Till God, to him the secret doth explain.
He sees and feels the awful load of sin,
Nor can aught ease the grief that he is in,
Until he hears God’s cheering, still small voice,
Which calms his fears, and bids his soul rejoice! ”

“ Restrain thy passion, give old Sam thine hand,
Be thankful that thou dost before him stand;
Go tell the men whom once I did adore,
Their wager’s lost, old Sam will fight no more;
Tell them to save their money for their wives,
Give up their folly, and reform their lives;
To go and seek salvation while they may,
Before the wrath of God drives them away!”
Sam’s noble speech so satisfied them all,
That not one there durst him a coward call.
“Although the wager ’s fairly lost,” say they,
“We all must own old Sam hath won the day!” ”

“ Nor smiles, nor frowns, my happy soul can move,
A friend or stranger is alike to me!
But will the Lord such rebels still receive?
Can angels sing for such a wretch as I?
Did Jesus die, that one so vile might live?
So vile, so full of sin and misery!
Yes! He the sinner doth invite to come;
For rich, for poor, for all his grace is free! ”

“ For doctrines more learned and pure;—
This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes,
This doctrine they could not endure!
They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain,
Our faults and our failings expose;
Because this perfection they cannot attain,
They’ll plead for their muffs and their boas!
So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks,
They’ll laugh at a sinner in tears;
Their prayers are lock’d up in their finely bound books,
While they’re trimming their necks and their ears! ”

“ For a couch as soft as thine!
Thou canst choose, as suits thee best,
When to toil, and when to rest:
Free from earthly care and strife,
Merrily doth pass thy life.
Ere the day begins to dawn,
Thou art at thy work alone;
By the early riser seen,
Turning round thy light machine.
Quick thou tip’st the slender wires,
Which more art than strength requires;—
Be the weather foul or fair,
Heart and foot are light as air! ”

“ To vex and aggravate the poor old man.
At length they reach’d, and rattled at the door,
Standing around, like lions to devour
His happy soul; but he had by his side,
King David’s faithful Shepherd for his guide.
Old Sammy from his Bible reading rose,
And straightway forth to meet the rebel goes;
“Here’s one,” say they, “will fight for what you like!”
He stamp’d, and raged, and dared old Sam to strike;
Sam look’d and smiled, as he before him stood,
Then shook his head, thinking the cause not good;
At length his flaming passion to control,
He cries, “The Lord have mercy on thy soul! ”

“ Her priest may lament from the porch to the altar,
Her pews are deserted, her virgins are fled.
[Pg 104]
Among her old timber, the hollow winds whistle,
And carve out a track for the frost or the snow;
Her walls, while they preach her departing epistle,
Are cover’d with gloom, both above and below.
Dim through her old windows the daylight is peeping,
The damp floor hath driven the hearers away;
A drop through the roof seems as if it were weeping,
To think how her beauty is gone to decay. ”

“ Life in its spring tide, or when ebbing in death, home with its simple yet hallowed joys, a religious assembly rapt in devotion and love, a landscape endeared by the associations of youth or of kindred, a dilapidated church, a withering flower, a text of scripture—have supplied him with topics;—and he trusts that the doctrines which he has inculcated in connection with them will always be found to agree with the Word of God. ”

“ No more he through the fields doth rove,
To play the flute, or blow the rustic reed!
No more the rolling flood’s at his controul,
Nor willing servant runs when he shall bid;
But mournfully I hear the death bell toll,
To hail him welcome to his lonely bed!
But Oh, the soul! That ever during spark,
Kindled in him by the Almighty’s breath,
Still lives, though we her passage cannot mark!—
She lives, though she hath pass’d the vale of death! ”

“ When o’er the mountain tops thy light they see:
But as thou here no homage dost receive,
I to thy Maker all the glory give.
His face, like thine, the drooping sinner cheers,
Oppress’d with guilt, and overwhelm’d with fears:
A ray from thee, O uncreated Sun,
Breaks up, and makes long frozen fountains run! ”

“ That of their care thou hast no stronger proof?
Perhaps they do not like to hear or see
Thy last deep groan, thy dying agony!
The grass upspurn’d,
Thine eye upturn’d,
Bespeak its weight to heedless passers by!
That hoarse deep sigh, the sad effect of sin,
Proclaims the depth of agony within!
On man and beast,
Greatest and least,
Grim Death doth feed, and glad his victim win! ”

“ Than we are subject to decline and die!
A brother Mason now a victim lies
To Death, whose icy hand hath closed his eyes!
He sleeps, forgetful of his toil and care;
In prime of life, no more his voice we hear. ”

“ Gladly I welcome thine all cheering ray:
’Midst frost and snow, a visit thus from thee,
Sets each numb toe and frozen finger free!
Bright emblem of the Majesty on high,
Who lives and reigns, the Lord of earth and sky! ”

“ Dost pour the living water from on high,
Which if it doth within the soul remain,
The sinner’s heart shall never freeze again!
Yes! he who daily drinks of this pure wave,
For sensual pleasure shall no relish have,
But calm amidst the turbulence of life,
Shall dwell for ever free from care and strife.
Shine, glorious Sun! thy blessings richly pour,
And cheer our fallen world from hour to hour!
With thy glad beams, O visit every vale,
’Till every starving soul thine influence feel!
[Pg 84]
LINES IN MEMORY OF THE REV. D. DUCK, CURATE OF DANBY.
Yes! ”

“ Truth is truth—however humble the habiliments in which it is dressed: nor does it come with less power to the heart because conveyed in language with which those for whom it was intended are familiar. ”

“ Shall at once into darkness be driven,
Fierce pains to endure with spirits impure,
Who were hurl’d from their places in heaven!
Oh, if thou dost crave above all things to have
A seat with thy Saviour divine,
No longer delay, nor rest night nor day,
Till a scriptural title is thine!
[Pg 118]
THE HAPPY CHOICE!
Jesus! thy name to me hath charms,
Outvieing all beneath the sun ”

“ For it grop’d out my way, and assisted my sight,—
When my foot would have slipp’d, it kept me upright.
It never forsook me, or broke my command,
Unless it was when it slipt out of my hand;
Then myself it might blame, for not taking more care,
For when duty demanded it always was there.
It is rare upon earth to find such a friend,
On which one can always so safely depend;—
When help was most needed it paid most regard,
And never reprov’d me for using it hard!
[Pg 68]
THE THUNDER STORM.
The praise be thine, Almighty, matchless King,
Whose care and power, my muse presumes to sing ”

“ When Death hath fix’d a mighty gulf between!
[Pg 173]
TRUTH TRIUMPHANT!
See yon flag of crimson dye,
Wave along the vaulted sky!
See yon flag, &c.
To its hem fair Truth is bound,
Blood of martyrs sprinkled round;
That earth’s multitudes may see,
Truth will have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Wicked men in vain oppose,
Babes shall sing of Sharon’s Rose!
Wicked men, &c.
Borne on winds from pole to pole,
Like the prophet’s flying roll;
Ethiopia soon shall see
Truth will have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Some of earth’s dark corners shine,
With this heav’nly light divine! ”

“ Others are of an experimental cast, and are the breathings of the poet’s heart when inflamed by Love Divine! It has been his constant aim to exhibit the workings of grace in the heart, its effects on the life, and the glorious futurity to which it conducts its possessor. ”

“ When death shall come, the Heav’nly land in view,
In peace, I’ll bid this world of sin Adieu!
[Pg 125]
SABBATH MORNING MUSINGS. “I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.” Psalm. cxxii. 1.
How do I love thy courts, O Lord!
What glories they unfold:
The joys they do to me afford,
More precious are than gold!
The very gates through which I pass,
Are beautiful to me!
What numbers here beneath the grass,
In silent slumber lie! ”

“ On men seea greeat, seea rich, seea wise,
They aim, neea doot, as weel as thee,
Te gang te heeaven when they dee.
What thof ther munney be bud lent,
Thoo knaws ’at munney mun be spent.
Besaads they hev example too,—
If t’ parson’s theer—What’s that te thoo?
Joe.—If thooase sud miss ther passage heeame,
A careless priesthood they may bleeame.
Blinnd guides they are, an’ t’Kirk’s ther moother,
An’ they wean’t gang te hear neea other.
We Christians run a diff’rent race,
Te what we call the Steeple Chase. ”

“ An’ hear fooaks sing wi’ love an’ melody,
As yan hez reead i’ bukes ov holy men,
’At nowther cared for fire nur lion’s den:
Bud dreeaded sin wi’ all its scorpion stings,
Mare than the wrath ov heathen priests an’ kings. ”

“ If nobbut, like monny, they wadden’t betray him,
Bud stick te that text, beeath te luv an’ obey him.
They can’t be content wi’ ther steeple opinions,
Bud they mun mack inrooads on others’ dominions;
Thof theers be in gen’ral the fat an’ the wealthy,
For t’want of gud physic, they seldom are healthy.
Hoo strange ’at they sud sike fair temples erect,
Te murder the sowls in—they’re swoorn te protect!
Bud stranger they’ll finnd it o’ yon side the fleead,
Wi’ ther hands an’ ther garments all stain’d i’ ther bleead! ”

“ To make this part of the work as complete as [Pg viii] possible, great care has been used to render the orthography correct: published specimens of the Dialect have been consulted, as well as living authorities, and no pains have been spared that could contribute to make it complete both to the eye and to the ear. A difference of orthography may occasionally appear, caused by the necessity of making a rhyme;—excepting a few rare instances of this kind, a standard has been adopted which has not been departed from. ”

“ An’ try te tune ther infant tongues
Te David’s lyre.
Remind ’em ov a Saviour’s love,
Leearn ’em the way God will approve,
Te pray, an’ fix ther thowghts above
Eearth’s fleeting joys,
Which at ther best, when tried ’ll proov,
Bud empty toys.
Consult the worthies ov’ each age,
Wheas lives are doon i’t’ sacred page,
Nor rest till all the heart engage
Like them i’ feight.
Then we like them oor hostile fooas,
Sal put te flight.
Te us they as examples stand,
As guide-poosts in a weeary land,
Or like seea monny beeacons grand,
On mountains heeigh,
Te shoo the way Jehovah’s plann’d ”

“ An’ thooase ’at follows his persuasion,
They’ll be reeght.
Ther’s sum ’at sez, bud they’re misteean,
When they’re babtized they’re boorne ageean;
Just heer they miss t’ fundation steean,
An’ beelds o’t’ sand;
An’ they’ve neea dreead, till t’hoose is doon
Bud it ’ll stand.
Ah’s flay’d,” sez he, “ift’ truth wur knawn,
Ther’s monny a precious soul o’erthrawn,
For that gud seed ’at he hez sawn
Wi’oot effect ”