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She came not down, her falling' groves to Where not alone her gracions name shall view;

stand, Why should she know, what one so faith- But how she lived-the blessing of the land;

ful knew?

How much we all deplored the noble dead, Why come, from many clamorous tongues What groans we utter'd and what tears we to hear,

shed; What one so just might whisper in her ear? Tears, true as those, which in the sleepy eyes Her oaks or acres why with care explore; Of weeping cherubs on the stone shall rise; Why learn the wants, the sufferings of the Tears, true as those, which, ere she found poor ;

her grave, When one so knowing all their worth could The noble Lady to our sorrows gave.

trace, And one so piteous govern'd in her place ? Lo! now, what dismal sons of Darkness come, Down by the church-way-walk and where To bear this daughter of Indulgence home;

the brook Tragedians all, and well arranged in black! Winds round the chancel like a shepherd's Who nature, feeling, force, expression lack;

crook: Who cause no tcar, but gloomily pass by, In that small house, with those green pales And shake their sables in the wearied eye,

before, That turns disgusted from the pompous scene, Where jasmine trails on either side the door; Proud without grandeur, with profusion | Where those dark shrubs that now grow mean!

wild at will, The tear for kindness past affection owes; Were clipp'd in form and tantalized with skill; Forworth deceased the sigh from reason flows; Where cockles blanch'd and pebbles neatly E'en well-feign'd passions for our sorrows call,

spread, And real tears for mimic miserica fall: Form'd shining borders for the larkspurs' But this poor farce has neither truth nor art,

bed; To please the fancy or to touch the heart; There lived a Lady, wise, austere, and nice, Unlike the darkness of the sky, that pours Who show'd her virtue by her scorn of vice; On the dry ground its fertilizing showers; In the dear fashions of her youth she dressid, Cnlike to that which strikes the soul with A pea-green Joseph was her favourite vest;


Erect she stood, she walk'd with stately mien, When thunders roar and forky fires are shed; Tight was her length of stays, and she was Dark but not awful, dismal but yet mean,

tall and lean. With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous There long she lived in maiden - state imscene;

mured, Presents no objects tender or profound, From looks of love and treacherous man But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around.

secured ; When woes are feign'd, how ill such forins Though evil fame (but that was long appear;

before) And oh! how needless, when the wo's sincere. Had blown her dubious blast at Catherine's Slow to the vault they come with heavy tread,

door: Bending beneath the Lady and her lead; A Captain thither rich from India came, A case of elm surrounds that ponderous chest, And though a cousin call’d, it touch'd her Close on that case the crimson velvet's

fame : press'd;

Her annual stipend rose from his behest, Ungenerous this, that to the worm denies, And all the long-prized treasures she posWith niggard-caution, his appointed prize;

gesa'd: For now, ere yet he works his tedious way, If aught like joy awhile appear'd to stay Through cloth and wood and metal to his In that stern face, and chase those frowns prey,

away; That prey dissolving shall a mass remain, 'Twas when her treasures she disposed for That fancy loathes and worms themselves

view, disdain.

And heard the praises to their splendour due ; Bat see! the master-mourner makes his way, Silks beyond price, 60 rich, they'd stand To end his office for the coffin'd clay;

alone, Pleased that our rustic men and maids behold And diamonds blazing on the buckled zone; His plate like silver, and his studs like gold, Rows of rare pearls by curious workmen set, As they approach to spell the age, the name, And bracelets fair in box of glossy jet; And all the titles of th' illustrious Dame.- Bright polish'd amber precious from its size, This as (my duty done) some scholar read, Or forms the fairest fancy could devise ; A village-father look'd disdain and said: Her drawers of cedar,shut with secret springs, Away, my friends! why take such pains to Conceal'd the watch of gold and rubied know

rings; What some brave marble soon in church Letters, long proofs of love, and verses fine shall show? Round the pink'd rims of crisped Valentine.


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Her china-closet, cause of daily care, A friend of Mammon let thy bounty make; For woman's wonder held her pencill'd ware; For widows' prayers, thy vanities forsake; That pictured wealth of China and Japan, And let the hungry of thy pride partake: Like its cold mistress, shunn’d the eye of Then shall thy inward eye with joy survey

The angel Mercy tempering Death's delay! Her neat small room, adorn’d with maiden-Alas! 'twas hard : the treasures still had taste,

charms, A clipp'd French puppy, first of favourites, Hope still its flattery, sickness its alarms;

graced :

Still was the same unsettled, clouded view, A parrot next, but dead and stud with art; And the same plaintive cry: What shall I do? (For Poll, when living, lost the Lady's heart, Nor change appear’d: for when her race was And then his life; for he was heard to speak

run, Such frightful words as tinged his Lady's Doubtful we all exclaim'd: What has been cheek:

done? Unhappy bird ! who had no power to prove, Apart she lived , and still she lies alone; Save by such speech, his gratitude and love.) Yon earthy heap awaits the flattering stone, A grey old cat his whiskers lick'd beside; On which invention shall be long employ'd, A type of sadness in the house of pride. To show the various 'worth of Catherine The polish'd surface of an India chest,

Lloyd. A glassy globe, in frame of ivory, press'd ; Where swam twofinny creatures; one of gold, of silver one; both beauteous to behold:- Next to these ladies, but in nought allied, All these were forın'd the guiding taste to A noble Peasant, Isaac Ashford, died.


Noble he was, contemning all things mean, The beasts well-manner'd and the fishes mute. His truth unquestion'd and his soul serene : A widow'd Aunt was there, compellid by Of no man's presence Isaac felt afraid ;


At no man's question Isaac look'd dismay'd : The nymph to Slatter and her tribe to feed; Shame knew him not, he dreaded no disgrace; Who, veiling well her scorn, endured the Truth, simple truth, was written in his face ;


Yet while the serious thought his soul apMute as the fish and fawning as the dog.

proved, As years increased, these treasures, her Cheerful he seem'd, and gentleness he loved :


To bliss domestic he his heart resign'd, Arose in value in their owner's sight: And, with the firmest, had the fondest mind: A miser knows that, view it as he will, Were others joyful, he look'd smiling on, A guinea kept is but a guinea still; And gave allowance where he needed none; And so he puts it to its proper use,

Good he refused with future ill to bay, That something more this guinca may pro- Nor knew a joy that caused reflection's sigh;


A friend to virtue, his unclouded breast But wilks and rings, in the possessor's eyes, No envy stung, no jealousy distress'd ; The oft'ner seen, the more in value rise, (Bane of the poor! it wounds their weaker And thus are wisely hoarded to bestow

mind, The kind of pleasure that with years will To miss one favour which their neighbours grow.

find :) But what avail'd their worth--if worth had Yet far was he from stoic pride removed :


He felt humanely, and he warmly loved : In the sad summer of her slow decay? I mark’d his action, when his infant died. Then we beheld her turn an anxious look And his old neighbour for offence was tried: From trunks and chests, and fix it on her The still tears, stealing down that furrow'a book,

check, A rich-bound Book of Prayer the Captain Spoke pity, plainer than the tongue can speak.


If pride were his, 'twas not their vulgar pride, (Some Princess had it, or was said to have;) Who,in their base contempt,the great deride; And then once more, on all ber stores, look Nor pride in learning, - though my clerk round,

agreed, And draw a sigh so piteous and profound, If Fate should call him, Ashford might snc That told: Alas! how hard from these to part,

ceed ; And for new hopes and habits forin'the heart! Nor pride in rustic skill, although we knew What shall I do (she cried), my peace of mind None his superior, and his equals few:To gain in dying, and to die resign'a ? But if that spirit in his roul had place, Hear, we returned ; -- these banbles cast It was the jealous pride that shuns disgrace:


A pride in honest fame, by virtue gain'd. Nor give thy God a rival in thy pride; In sturdy boys to virtuons labours traind: Thy closet shut, and ope thy kitchen's door; Pride, in the power that guards his coun There own thy failings, here invite the

try's coast, poor;

And all that Englishmen enjoy and boast;

Pride, in a life that slander's tongue defied,- Not one, who posts from place to placeIn fact, a noble passion, misnamed pride.

of men He had po party's rage, no sect'ry's whim; And manners treating with a flying pen; Christian and countryman was all with him: Not he, who climbs, for prospects, SnowTrue to his church he came ; no Sunday

den's height, shower

And chides the clouds that intercept the sight; kept him at home in that important hour; No carious shell, rare plant, or brilliant spar, Nor his firm feet could one persuading sect, Enticed our traveller from his home so far; By the strong glare of their new light, di- But all the reason, by himself assigned


Forso much rambling, was, a restless mind ; On hope, in mine own sober light, I gaze, As on, from place to place, without intent, But should be blind and lose it in your blaze. Without reflection, Robin Dingley went. In times severe, when many a sturdy swain Not thus by nature:-never man was found Felt it his pride, his comfort, to complain; Lens prone to wander from his parish-bound: Isaac their wants would soothe, his own Claudian's old Man, to whom all scenes were would hide,

new, And feel in that his comfort and his pride. Save those where he and where his apples At length he found, when seventy years

grew, were run,

Resembled Robin, who around would look, His strength departed, and his labour done ; And his horizon, for the earth's, mistook. When he, save honest fame, retain'd no more, To this poor swain a keen Attorney came;But lost his wife and saw his children poor: I give thee joy, good fellow! on thy name; Twas then, a spark of--say not discontent-The rich old Dingley's dead ;- -no child has he, Struck on his mind, and thus he gave it vent: Nor wife, nor will; his all is left for thee: kind are your laws, ('tis not to be denied) To be his fortune's heir thy claim is good; That in yon house, for ruin'd age, provide, Thou hast the name, and we will prove the And they are just;-when young, we give

blood. you all,

The claim was made; 'twas tried,- it would And for assistance in our weakness call.

not stand ; Why then this proud reluctance to be fed, They proved the blood, but were refused To join your poor, and eat the parish-bread?

the land. But yet I linger, loth with him to feed, Assured of wealth, this man of simple heart, Who gains his plenty by the sons of need; To every friend had predisposed a part: He who, by contract, all your paupers took, His wife had hopes indulged of various kind; And gauges stomachs with an anxious look: The three Miss Dingleys had their school On some old master I could well depend;

assign'd, See him with joy and thank him as a friend; Masters were sought for what they each Bnt ill on him, who doles the day's supply,

required, And counts our chances, who at night may And books were bought and harpsichords

were hired : Yet help me, Heav'n! and let me not com- So high was hope:—the failure touch'd his plain

brain, or what I suffer, but my fate sustain. And Robin never was himself again ; Sach were his thoughts, and so resign’d he Yet he no wrath, no angry wish express’d,


But tried, in vain, to labour or to rest; Daily be placed the workhouse in his view! Then cast his bandle on his back, and went Bat came not there, for sudden was his fate, He knew not whither, nor for what intent. He dropp'd, expiring, at his cottage-gate.

Years fled ;- of Robin all remembrance past, I feel his absence in the hours of prayer,

When home he wander'd in his rags at last: And view his seat and sigh for Isaac there: A sailor's jacket on his limbs was thrown, I see no more those white locks thinly spread A sailor's story he had made his own; Round the bald polish of that honour'a head; Had suffer'd battles,prisons, tempests,storms, No more that awful glance on playful wight, Encountering Death in all his ugliest forms: Compellid to kneel and tremble at the sight, His cheeks were haggard, hollow was his eye, To fold his fingers, all in dread the while, Where madness lurk’d, conceal'd in misery; Till Mister Ashford soften'd to a smile; Want, and th' ungentle world, bad taught a No more that meek and suppliant look in

part, prayer,

And prompted cunning to that simple heart: Nor the pure faith (to give it force), are He now bethought him, he would roam no there :

more, Bat he is blest, and I lament no more But live at home and labour as before. A wise good man contented to be poor. Here cloth'd and fed, no sooner he began

To round and redden, than away he ran ;

His wife was dead, their children past his Then died a Rambler; not the one who sails

aid : And trucks, for female favours, beads and nails; So, unmolested, from his home he stray'd:


and pain,

my hand;

Six years elapsed, when, worn with want | While the meek father, listening to their

tones, Came Robin, wrapt in all his rags, again :- Swell'd the full cadence of the grief by groans. We chide, we pity ;- placed among our The elder sister strove her pangs to hide;


And soothing words to younger minds apHe fed again, and was a man once more.

plied: As when a gaunt and hungry fox is found, Be still, be patient, oft she strove to say; Entrapp'd alive in some rich hunter's ground; But fail'd as oft, and weeping turn'd away. Fed for the field, although each day's a feast, Curious and sad, upon the fresh-dug hill, Fatten yon may, but never tame the beast; The village-lads stood melancholy still ; A house protects him,savoury viands sustain; And idle children, wandering to-and-fro, But loose his neck and off he goes again : As Nature guided, took the tone of wo. So stole our vagrant from his warm retreat, Arrived at home, how then they gazed around, To rove a prowler and be deem'd a cheat. In every place,—where she-no more, was Hard was his fare; for, him at length we

found ;saw,

The seat at table she was wont to fill; In cart convey'd and laid supine on straw. The fire-side-chair, still set, bat vacant still; His feeble voice now spoke a sinking heart; The garden-walks, a labour all her own; His groans now told the motions of the cart; The latticed bower, with trailing shrubs And when it stopp'd , he tried in vain to

o'ergrown; stand;

The Sunday-pew she fill’d with all her race,Closed was his eye, and clench'd his clam- Each place of hers, was now a sacred place,

That, while it call'd up sorrows in the eyes, Life ebb'd apace, and our best aid no more Pierced the full heart and forced them still Could his weak sense or dying heart restore:

to rise. But now he fell, a victim to the snare, Oh sacred sorrow! by whom souls are tried, That vile attorneys for the weak prepare ;- Sent not to punish mortals, but to guide; They who, when profit or resentment call, If thou art mine, (and who shall proudly dare Heed not the groaning victim they enthral. To tell his Maker, he has had his share?)

Still let me feel for what thy pangs are sent,

And be my guide and not my punishment! Then died lamented, in the strength of life, A valued Mother and a faithful Wife; Call'd not away, when time had loosed each Of Leah Cousins next the name appears,


With honours crown'd and blest with length On the fond heart, and each desire grew cold; But when, to all that knit us to our kind, Save that she lived to feel, in life's decay, She felt fast-bonnd, as charity can bind ;- The pleasure die, the honours drop away; Not when the ills of age, its pain, its care, A matron she, whom every village-wife The drooping spirit for its fate prepare ; View'd as the help and guardian of her life; And, each affection failing, leaves the heart Fathers and sons, indebted to her aid, Loosed from life's charm and willing to de- Respect to her and her profession paid;

part ;

Who in the house of plenty largely fed. But all her ties the strong invader broke, Yet took her station at the pauper's bed ; In all their strength, by one tremendous Nor from that duty could be bribed again,


While fear or danger urged her to remain: Sudden and swift the eager pest came on, In her experience all her friends relied, And 'terror grew, till every hope was gone: Heaven was her help and nature was her Still those around appear'd for hope to seek !

guide. But view'd the sick and were afraid to Thus Leah lived; long trusted, much caress d.


Till a Town-Dame a youthful Farmer blessid: Slowly they bore, with solemn step, the dead; A gay vain bride, who would example give When grief grew loud and bitter tears were To that poor village where she deiga'd to shed:

live; My part began; a crowd drew near the place, Some few months past, she sent, in hour Awe in each eye, alarm in every face:

of need, So swift the ill, and of so fierce a kind, For Doctor Glibb, who came with wondrous That fear with pity mingled in each mind;

speed: Friends with the husband came their griefs Two days he waited, all his art applied,

to blend ;

To save the mother when her infant died :For good-man Frankford was to all a friend. 'Twas well I came, at last he deign'd to say: The last-born boy they held above the bier, l 'Twas wond'rous well; – and proudly rode He knew not grief, but cries express'd his

away. fear;

The news ran round;– How vast the Doc Each different age and sex reveal'd its pain,

tor's pow'r! In now a louder, now a lower strain; He saved the Lady in the trying hour;

of years,

Saved her from death, when she was dead | Does he for courts the sons of farmers frame,

to hope,

Or make the daughter differ from the dame? And her fond husband had resign'd her up: Or, whom he brings into this world of wo, So all, like her, may evil fate defy, Prepares he them their part to undergo? If Doctor Glibb, with saving hand, be nigh. If not, this stranger from your doors repel, Fame (now his friend), fear, novelty, and And be content to be and to be well.


She spake; but, ah! with words too strong And fashion, sent the varying sex to him :

and plain; From this contention in the village rose; Her warmth offended and her truth was vain: And these the Dame espoused; the Doctor The many left her, and the friendly few,

those :

If never colder, yet they older grew; The wealthier part to him and science went; Till, unemploy'd, she felt her spirits droop, With lack and her the poor remain'd content. And took, insidious aid! th' inspiring cup; The matron sigh’d; for she was vex'd at Grew poor and peevish as her powers decay'd,


And propp'd the tottering frame with stronger With so much profit, so much fame, to part:

aid, So long successful in my art, she cried, Then died !--I saw our careful swains convey, And this proud man, so young and so untried! From this our changeful world, the matron's Nay, said the Doctor, dare you trust your

clay, wives,

Who to this world, at least, with equal care, The joy, the pride, the solace of your lives, Brought them its changes, good and ill, to To one who acts and knows no reason why,

share. But trusts, poor hag! to luck for an ally ? Who, on experience, can her claims advance, And own the powers of accident and chance Now to his grave was Roger Cuff convey'd, A whining daine, who prays in danger's view, And strong resentment's lingering spirit laid. (A proof she knows not what beside to do ;) Shipwreck'd in youth, he home return'd, and What's her experience ? In the time that's

found gone,

His brethren three-and thrice they wish'd Blandering she wrought and still she blun

him drown'd. ders on:

Is this a landman's love? Be certain then, And what is Nature ? One who acts in aid We part for ever!-and they cried, Amen! Of gossips half asleep, and half afraid : His words were truth's:—Some forty sumWith such allies I scorn my fame to blend,

mers fled, Skill is my luck and courage is my friend : His brethren died; his kin supposed him dead: No slave to Natare, 'tie my chief delight Three nephews these, one sprightly niece, To win my way and act in her despite :

and one, Trust then my art, that, in itself complete, Less near in blood—they call’d him surly John; Needs no assistance and fears no defeat.- He work'd in woods apart from all his kind, Warmd by her well - spiced ale and aiding Fierce were his looks and moody was his mind.


For home the Sailor now began to sigh:The angry matron grew for contest ripe. The dogs are dead, and I'll return and die; Can you. she said, ungrateful and unjust, When all I have, my gains, in years of care, Before experience, ostentation trust! The younger Cuffs with kinder souls shall What is your hazard, foolish daughters,

share :tell?

Yet hold! I 'm rich; - with one consent If safe, you're certain ; if secure, you're well:

they'll say, That I bave lack must friend and foe confess, You're welcome, Uncle,as the flowers in May. And what's good judgment but a lucky guess? No; I'll disguise me, be in tatters dress'd, He boasts but what he can do:— will you run And best befriend the lads who treat me best. From me, your friend! who, all he boasts, Now all his kindred,,neither rich nor poor,

have done?

Kept the wolf want some distance from the By prond and learned words his powers are

door. known;

In piteous plight he knock'd at George's By healthy boys and handsome girls my own:

gate, Wives! fathers! children! by my help you And begg'd for aid, as he described his live;

state:Has this pale Doctor more than life to give? But stern was George ;-Let them who had No stunted cripple hops the village round;

thee strong, Your hands are active and your heads are Help thee do drag thy weaken'd frame along;


To us a stranger, while your limbs would My lads are all your fields and focks require;

move, My lasses all those sturdy lads admire. From us depart and try a stranger's love: Can this proad leech, with all his boasted Ha! dost thou murmur? — for, in Roger's skill,

throat, Amend the soul or body, wit or will ? Was Rascal! rising with disdainful note.

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