Charles Swain, nick-named "The Manchester Poet", was born either 1801 or 1803. Robert Southey, Poet Laureate, said of him, "If ever man was born to be a poet, Swain was."
I've only just discovered his poetry, and I'm very much enjoying it. I stumbled across this poet because I was searching for another poet's work on Dryburgh Abbey. I was surprised to find that as well as verse by Thomas Agar Holland, Dryburgh Abbey had also inspired Charles Swain. As the burial place of Walter Scott I suppose that this isn't really surprising.
The poetry about Dryburgh is good, but it's Swain's other verse that I find most apposite. Some of his verse speaks very much to the current situation, both Pandemic and political!
We Live In A Very Strange World
How often our hopes have been given
To things that but mockeries be,
As the hills that seem touching on heaven
Are just as far off it as we!
The idols we worship are those
Which Fashion and Fortune can mould;
Other idols are shaped but of snows!
The world thinks of nothing but gold!
Once Truth her bright banner unfurl'd--
But we live in a very strange world.
We live in a very strange world--
Strange things are occurring each day;
But they pass without comment or word,
And to-morrow goes just the same way:
I used to imagine that hearts
Were the fountain of honour and worth,
And of all that a blessing imparts!
But they learn -- who live long upon earth,
Once Truth her bright banner unfurl'd--
But we live in a very strange world.
Once the laurel was Friendship's own leaf,
As constant -- as free from decay;
Now its emblem, alas, is more brief--
'Tis the flower that but lives for a day!
Like a honeycomb, rich and replete,
Is Society -- some people tell;
But if it be equally sweet,
It is equally hollow as well!
Once Truth her bright banner unfurl'd--
But we live in a very strange world.