Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 04.pdf/632

 A Judicial Anthology. But thou wert pleas'd to let thy servant know That that Blest hour that seem'd to move so slow Through former Ages, should at last attain Its time, ere my few Sands, that yet remain Are spent; and that these Aged Eyes Should see the day when Jacob's Star should rise. And now thou hast fulfill'd it, blessed Lord, Dismiss me now according to thy word; And let my Aged Body now return To Rest, and Dust, and drop into an Urn; For I have liv'd enough, mine eyes have seen Thy much desired Salvation, that hath been So long, so dearly wish'd, the Joy, the Hope Of all the Ancient Patriarks, the Scope Of all the Prophesies and Mysteries Of all the Types unvail'd, the Histories Of Jewish Church unridl'd, and the bright And Orient Sun, arisen to give light To Gentiles, and the Joy of Israel The World's Redeemer, blest Emanuel. Let this Sight close mine Eyes; 't is loss to see After this Vision, any Sight but Thee. Matthew Hale.

ERSKINE'S PROTEST. [To the Master of the Rolls, as President of an associa tion of the bar, which, in 1801, the year of the scarcity, had resolved to limit their consumption of bread at all meals.] 1 My early meal thy prudent care controls, Lord of the Breakfast! Master of the Rolls! But as to dinner! What is that to thee? There Coke alone shall give the law to me! Thomas ErskineTO HIS WIFE. Can it, my lovely Bessy, be That when near forty years are past, I still my lovely Bessy see Dearer and dearer at the last?

595

Nor time, nor years, nor age, nor care, Believe me, lovely Bessy, will — Much as his frame they daily wear — Affect the heart that's Bessy's still. In Scotland's climes I gave it thee, — In Scotland's climes I thine obtain'd, — Oh, to each other let them be True, till an Heaven we have gained. "John Scott. THE HARVEST HOME. The crimson moon, uprising from the sea, With large delight foretells the harvest near; Ye shepherds, now prepare your melody To greet the soft appearance of her sphere; And like a page enamoured of her train, The star of evening glimmers in the west : Then raise, ye shepherds, your observant strain. That so of the Great Shepherd here are blest. Our fields are full with the time-ripened grain, Our vineyards with the purple clusters swell; Her golden splendor glimmers on the main, And vales and mountains her bright glory tell : Then sing, ye shepherds, for the time is come When we must bring the enriched harvest home. Edward Thurlow. SIR LYTTLETON POWIS' CHARGE. I your most humble servant rest You gentry of the Grand Inquest,— Or inquests rather, for you be The plural number, at least three. But hearken what you must present : First, riot, a most horrid thing Et contra pacem of the king, Which don't suppose there is no harm in, For 't is rebellion's cousin -german.

-