Poem

Shanvalley, once the pride of all these parts,
And flourished long beneath the race of Harts;
As if in sorrow at going away,
Now clouded seems, and falling to decay.
The fertile fields and meads so gay, so green
Where Winter's withered face could scarce be seen.
A different aspect here of late assumes
And all their verdant beauties clad in gloom.
Here oft the needy and the neighboring poor
Found sure relief, and still an open door;
The stranger, too, benighted sought the road,
To Mr. Harts of Shanvalley's abode.
But now no more the sprightly dance or song
In blameless mirth, goes round the cheerful throng,
No more at setting sun or rising moon,
We hear the Viols brisk enlivening tune.
You charming fair still with abundance blest
Of beauty, grace, and modesty possessed;
Entitled to unclaimed respect beside,
And always free from vanity; and pride -
Farewell, be happy in a foreign land,
Eliza fair and noble Mary Ann.
Seven blooming youths of fair unblemished fame,
Recorded here, each by his proper name,
The first is Thomas, sober, wise, and grave
In person graceful, and in conduct brave
Well skilled in that most useful of all Arts,
To mortals most essential in all parts.
The second, James, the noblest of our youth,
Famed for true valour, dignity, and truth
A faultless form above middle size,
A face like Phebus beaming in our eyes,
Where Mars and Venus both united shine
To render him complete in every line.
Two absentees already have crost o'er,
And points the way to freedom's native shore;
Samuel and Joseph sacred names we find
That bode success to those here left behind.
Moses so justly call'd and not less fair,
Than he who claimed a royal Virgin's care.
King Pharaoh's daughter snatched him from the pool
And raised him to dignity and rule.
Like him devoted to deep classic lore
He leaves his native land in search of more.
Solly and William, comely, fair and young,
The last that from a worthy mother sprung,
In them already independence glows
And their success through life hereafter shows.
Shalt thou Miss Charlotte here forgotten be
Seeing removed from those but one degree,
Delightful prattler innocence so sweet
Might render short the passage o'er the deep.
Now to you all a long and last Adieu;
And if the good be happy so will you.