Views in Suffolk, Norfolk, and Northamptonshire/Sapiston
This pleasant village is worthy of notice from being the place where Bloomfield commenced his humble career as the ‘Farmer's Boy;' a situation which introduced him to the knowledge of those rural employments and occupations which he has delineated with so much felicity and correctness.
Here his first thoughts to Nature's charms inclin'd.
Which stamps devotion on th' inquiring mind.
Here once a year Distinction low'rs its crest,
The master servant and the merry guest,
Are equal all; ———
vide Farmers Boy.
Mean Structure where no bones of heroes lie
The rude inelegance of poverty
Reigns here alone.———
vide The Farmers Boy.
Forth comes the maid, and like the morning smiles;
The mistress too, and follow'd close by Giles.
A friendly tripod forms their humble seat.
With pails bright scour'd and delicately sweet.
Where shadowing elms obstruct the morning ray,
Begins their work, begins the simple lay:—
The full-charg'd udder yields its willing streams,
While Mary sings some lover's amorous dreams;
And crouching Giles beneath a neighbouring tree.
Tugs o'er his pail, and chants with equal glee.
The window seen at the gable end of the house admitted light into the usual dormitory of the Poet, where he (with the juniors of the family) was wont to find his way to bed at all seasons of the year without a candle. At a short distance from the farm-house stands Sapiston Church:
Hither, at times, with cheerfulness of soul.
Sweet village maids from neighbouring hamlets stroll.
* * * * * * * *
Was lovely Poll.—
Ill-fated maid ! thy guiding spark is fled,
And lasting wretchedness awaits thy bed.
* * * * * * *
There still are joys poor Poll can never know.
Sapiston Church, like many others in Suffolk, is covered with thatch; from which circumstance it has many times been nearly unroofed by the pilfering of the jackdaws. In the churchyard lie buried Mr. Austin, the venerable master of Giles, Mrs. Austin, and nine of their infant children.