The poets of Yorkshire, commenced by W.C. Newsam; complete and publ. by J. Holland

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Jeremiah Willis may have been poor, hence the need to write "The Beauties of Wensleydale" for money. Uneducated, absolutely not. This needs to be corrected, so in his defence, I will!
Firstly, he was
born in Redmire-cum-Bolton 1754.The family were shoemakers, so yes he did appentice in shoemaking and married in 1778. 1781 his first child John Willis was born. Records at the time show him as a schoolmaster in North Cave. From then on, Jeremiah resided in Newton on Ouse where he lived with his family and was recorded as schoolmaster.
The need to write The Beauties of Wensleydale, Pleasures of Sensibility
was for money. Quote;"Some write for pleasure, some for spite. My need for money makes me write."
This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilzation as we know it. Jeremiah lived in Carperby whilst reminiscing and writing this beautiful poetry and died in 1822. He is buried at All Saints, Newton on Ouse. The second edition of his book was being published in 1815.

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Page xiv - LORD, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I am.
Page 93 - In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fix'd fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute ; And found no' end, in wand'ring mazes lost.
Page 46 - Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Page 46 - Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide; There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Page 59 - Looking tranquillity ! It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chilness to my trembling heart.
Page 46 - How vainly men themselves amaze, To win the palm, the oak, or bays ; And their incessant labours see Crowned from some single herb, or tree, Whose short and narrow-verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid ; While all the flowers and trees do close, To weave the garlands of repose...
Page 46 - Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men. Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow. Society is all but rude To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So am'rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress
Page 130 - The skin which but yesterday fools could adore. For the smoothness it held, or the tint which it wore. Shall we build to the purple of Pride, The trappings which dizen the proud?
Page 46 - What wondrous life is this I lead ! Ripe apples drop about my head ; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine ; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach ; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
Page 129 - Ah, no! she forgets The charms which she wielded before, Nor knows the foul worm that he frets The skin which but yesterday fools could adore For the smoothness it held or the tint which it wore.

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