Monday 31 December 2012

John Walker Ord (2 poems by Tweddell)


John Walker Ord. [No. 1]

To my literary friend, the late John Walker Ord
Hail, child of genius!* Cleveland’s honour’d bard!
Who, singing England’s praise, forgot not her
Whose hills, and brooks, and plains, though doest prefer
To all the world: thou art a worshipper
Of Nature fair; and on the daisied sward 5
Of thy dear native vale will ofttimes lay,
(When Phoebus high in azure heaven doth ride,
And sea-nymphs sport upon the ocean tide,)
To hear the linnets’ song, see lambkins play,
And view thy Cleveland clad in garments gay 10
Of lovely green, with Flora’s gems bedight
So rich and profuse, that thy gladden’d soul
Feels inspiration at the very sight,
And wings its way beyond the world’s control.

George Markham Tweddell

Stokesley G. T.
* Mr John Walker Ord, Author of “England, a Historical Poem,” “The Bard,
and Minor Poems,” “Rural Sketches and Poems, chiefly relating to Cleveland,”
“The History and Antiquities of Cleveland,” &c., &c.
[Tweddell’s Yorkshire Miscellany, p. 400 October 1846 and also in Tractates
No. 7 as Sonnet No. VII. Published too in Turner, J.Horsfall (undated 1890?)
Yorkshire Genealogist, with which is incorporated Yorkshire Bibliographer,
Volume II (Idel, Bradford), p. 13] And the intro to Tweddell's chapter on Ord in Bards and Authors of Cleveland 1872.


John Walker Ord, F.G.S.L. [No. 2]
(For a Memoir of whose Life and Writings see The Bards and Authors
of Cleveland and South Durham.) Tweddell has a chapter on John Walker Ord in Bards and Authors - the book cna be downloaded from the link in this post here - http://georgemarkhamtweddell.blogspot.com/2012/12/bards-and-authors-of-cleveland-and.html

I
We were true friends, because we dearly loved
Our native vale. Cleveland to both being dear,
Though all the changing beauty of the year,
With him delighted I have often roved
Our hills and plains, and in our little dells; 5
For each gave gladness, which we well could share;
And we felt thankful earth was all so fair;
Whilst fairies seem’d to come forth from their cells,
In every little flower, to welcome give
Then to our visits: and when last we met 10
’T was on dear Rosebury, and the sun had set
Ere we could bear to part. And yet I live
Those happy days again in memory,
My much-loved friend, whene’er I think of thee.

II
And not alone did Cleveland’s hills and dales, 15
Her rivers and her varied coast, give joy,
With garniture of woods that never cloy;
We both delighted in romantic tales,
Which reverend eld had handed down from yore,—
Oft husks of superstition—which within 20
Held kernels of dim truths, for those to win
Who know well how rightly search for lore
Thus only to be found: for myth and truth
Are strangely interwoven on all hands;
And happiest he who clearly understands 25
How best to part them: for so quick the growth
Of Error’s weeds, that they too often choke
E’en up the paths where Wisdom fain would walk.

George Markham Tweddell

From CLEVELAND SONNETS—Second series
Tractates No. 35 (1888)

Note:
Tweddell met John Walker Ord when he was about 19 and was apprenticed to William Braithwaite, the printer at 30, the High Street, Stokesley (now a newsagents) and where John Walker Ord was having his book - The History and Antiquities of Cleveland - printed. Although of opposite politics, the two became good friends and associates.

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