Think Before You Speak or, The Three Wishes

Excerpt

THE sun withdrew his last pale ray,And clos’d the short and chearless day;Loud blew the wind, and rain and sleetAgainst the cottage casement beat.
The busy housewife trimm’d her fire,And drew the oaken settle nigher,[p6]
And welcom’d home her own good manTo his clean hearth, his pipe, and can;For Homespun and his bustling wifeWere honest folks in humble life,Who liv’d contented with their lot,And lov’d the comforts of their cot.With willing hand and chearful heart,Each of life’s burden bore their part,With patience all its ills withstood,And thankfully receiv’d the good.
[p7]
Yet, they were not without their failings:They lov’d the harvest-home regalings;On summer evenings on the greenAt cricket oft was Homespun seen;And sometimes, where the sign ensnaresThe wearied swain to drown his cares,He lov’d to quaff the foaming ale,And listen to a merry tale.Was there within ten miles a fair—He and his dame were surely there:[p8]
For she too lov’d, in trim array,And scarlet cloak, a holiday.Ah! then within her pocket burn’dThe long sav’d crown so hardly earn’d,While in the stall temptation spreadThe printed gown or top-knot red;Nor did her little happy trainFor drum or whistle sue in vain.
Will Rigour’s brow relentless lour,If pleasure steal from toilonehour?[p9]
And shall the poor enjoy no rayOf sunshine through their winter’s day?Nor pluck the few wild flowers, that bloom’Midst poverty’s ungenial gloom?
Now, seated in his wicker chair,The swain enjoys his homely fare:His rosy children round him press,Eager to share the fond caress;And as his eyes delighted traceHealth and content in each dear face,[p10]
He scarce desires a happier lot,His toils unfelt, his cares forgot.
When supper ended,—grace was said,The babes were bless’d, and sent to bed,And o’er the fire the parents sat,Engag’d in sober, social chat,—When suddenly a flash of lightReveal’d to their astonish’d sightA little form of lovely mien,Epitome of Beauty’s Queen.[p11]
Her zone was clasp’d with jewels rare,And roses bound her auburn hair,White was her robe, and in her handGraceful she wav’d an ivory wand.

[opp. p10]

Our couple started with surprise,And star’d at her—with all their eyes,Not guessing how or whence she came,What was her nature, or her name.At length their unexpected guestThe trembling villagers address’d:[p12]
Mortals! she said, in me beholdA being of no earthly mold:—But fear me not; I visit earthTo benefit your humble worth;For this I’ve left the blissful land,Rul’d by Imperial Oberon’s hand,And on your cottage I intrudeTo pay a debt of gratitude.For know, my friends, that every yearI’m doom’d a mortal form to wear,[p13]
And for a time must undergoThe sufferings earthly creatures know.Sometimes I wing my way a bird;Sometimes with beasts compelled to herd;A fish I plunge beneath the deep;Or in an insect’s form I creep....