ON THE Mary's Page
DEATH OF THE REV. DR. WYLDE,
LATE OF NOTTINGHAM
POEMS OF A NOTTINGHAM LACE-RUNNER
ON THE
DEATH OF THE REV. DR. WYLDE,
LATE OF NOTTINGHAM
Dare I presume, with unaccustom'd pen,
To tell the virtues of the best of men!
But can the Muse behold this loss, severe,
And neither drop a line nor shed a tear,
To him who gain'd such general respect?
No! gratitude forbids the gross neglect!
If none more able to write, the task be mine
To celebrate this eminent Divine.—
Mild was the season, through the rolling year,
Scarce had we felt a night of frost, severe,
Till that most hapless night that ever froze—
The sad foundation of our present woes!
Ah! to our town, how dreadful was the stroke
Of that sad morn on which his limb was broke?
Thousands will point to the spot, and, sighing, tell
The slippery steps on which the Doctor fell!
Still, for awhile, with us he did remain;
His christian fortitude surmounting pain.
Prospects on high, his pious bosom fill:
He bows submissive to his Maker's will.
Ah! Could his people's tears and wishes save,
And snatch their Guardian from the envied grave!
We had not had the pain to say—he's dead;
And o'er his grave our fruitless sorrows shed.
With ready hand he succour'd the distress'd;
Virtue supported, and all vice suppress'd.
To him the injured wife ne'er sued in vain:
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MARY BAILEY
He call'd the erring husband back again;—
Show'd him the path in which the virtuous trod:
And turned the vilest sinner to his God!
As husband, father, pastor, justice, friend,
Him few could equal, none on earth transcend.
Sheep of his flock, repeat the mournful lay!
For fifty years you bore his holy sway.
How many hundred times your walls have rung
With the effectual blessings from his tongue.
From him the promises were doubly sweet;
From him the threats convey'd a double weight.
Long, long he preach'd to you redeeming grace.
And fill'd with holy awe, the sacred place.
God grant that none may ever leave the fold;
That all, in bliss, their Shepherd may behold.
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Contents
To a Lady who visited the author when she was in great distress 14
To a Lady who desired me to pray for the death of youngest child 17
Petition to the British Fair 19
On the Death of the Revd. Dr. Wylde, late of Nottingham 21
Lines, Written in July, on Widow Hind's garden, at Hints, in Staffordshire 26
Lines On the Death of a Gentleman of Basford 31
The Author to Her Infant Twins 35
Appendix: Mary Bailey's Obituary 37
Index of titles and first lines 42
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[Work in Progess]
