Incidents, poetic tastes, etc. Conclusion.

My harp awakes! And as I touch each string,
The poor Mechanic Emigrant I sing.
Eighteen eventful years, or rather more,
Have fled since first he left his native shore--
That much-loved shore! that dear old English home!
So oft regretted since first led to roam.
My Muse, 'tis thine to give in artless lays,
A genuine history of his early days;
Make known the place where first he saw the light,
Portray the scenes which pleased his boyish sight,
Unfold his parentage, and backward trace
Their line, descended from no common race;
Speak of his eagerness to learn a trade,
Mark what proficiency in that he made,
Glance at his love scenes, and a lesson show,
Which youths in general would do well to know.
Fail not to tell how, in his eighteenth year,
He did, as _Christian_, publicly appear.
Make known the cause that led him first to feel
A strong desire to seek his future weal,
In emigration to that distant shore
Where flow great rivers, and loud cataracts roar;
Where mighty lakes afford the fullest scope
For future commerce, and the settler's hope.
Go with him to his home in the wild woods--
That rude log cottage where he stored his goods;
Paint faithfully the scenes through which he passed,
And how he settled in a town at last;