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And with delight the young enthusiast found Then too his praises were in contrast seen,
The muse of Marcus with applauses crown'd. “ A lord as noble as the knight was mean."
This heard the father, and with some alarm : "I much rejoice," he cried, “ such worth to find;
“ The boy,” said he, “will neither trade nor farm ; To this the world must be no longer blind
He for both law and physic is unfit ;

His glory will descend from sire to son,
Wit he may have, but cannot live on wit. The Burns of English race, the happier Chalterton."
Let him his talents then to learning give,

Our poct’s mind, now hurried and elate, Where verse is honour'd, and where poets live. Alarm'd the anxious parent for his fate;

John kept his terms at college unreproved, Who saw with sorrow, should their friend sucTook his degree, and left the life he loved ;

ceed, Nor yet ordain'd, his leisure he employ'd That much discretion would the poet need. In the light labours he so much enjoy d;

Their friend succeeded, and repaid the zeal His favourite notions and his daring views The poet selt, and made opposers feel, Were cherish'd still, and he adored the muse. By praise (from lords how soothing and how'sweet)

“A little time, and he should burst to lighi, And invitation to his noble seat. And admiration of the world excite;

The father ponder'd, doubtful if the brain And every friend, now cool and apt to blame Of his proud boy such honour could sustain ; His fond pursuit, would wonder at his fame." Pleased with the favours ofler'd to a son, When led by fancy, and from view retired, But seeing dangers sew so ardent shun. He call'd before him all his heart desired ;

Thus, when they parted, to the youthful breast “ Fame shall be mine, then wealth shall I possess, The father's sears were by his love impressid : And beauty next an ardent lover bless ;

There will you find, my son, the courteous ease For me the maid shall leave her nobler state, That must subdue the soul it means to pleasc ; Happy to raise and share her poet's fate." That soft attention which e'en beauty pays He saw each day his father's frugal board To wake our passions, or provoke our praise ; With simple fare by cautious prudence stored ; There all the eye beholds will give delight. Where each indulgence was foreweigh'd with Where every sense is flatter'd like the sighi : care,

This is your peril; can you from such scene And the grand maxims were to save and spare Of splendour part, and feel your mind serene, Yet in his walks, his closet, and his bed,

And in the father's humble state resume
All frugal cares and prudent counsels fled; The frugal diet and the narrow room?"
And bounteous Fancy, for his glowing mind, To this the youth with cheerful heart replied,
Wrought various scenes, and all of glorious kind; Pleased with the trial, but as yet untried ;
Slaves of the ring and lamp! what need of you, And while prosessing patience, should he fail,
When Fancy's self such magic deeds can do ? He suffer'd hope o'er reason to prevail.
Though rapt in visions of no vulgar kind,

Impatient, by the morning mail convey'd,
To common subjects stoop'd our poet's mind ; The happy guest his promised visit paid;
And oft, when wearied with more ardent Night, And now arriving at the hall, he tried
He felt a spur satiric song to write ;

For air composed, serene, and satisfied ;
A rival burgess his bold muse attack'd,

As he had practised in his room alone,
And whipp'd severely for a well-known fact; And there acquired a free and easy tone :
For while he seem'd to all demure and shy, There he had said, “ Whatever the degree
Our poet gazed at what was passing by ;

A man obtains, what more than man is he?"
And e'en his father smiled when playful wit And when arrived -- This room is but a room;
From his young bard, sore haughty object hit. Can aught we see the steady soul o'ercome?
From ancient times the borough where they Let me in all a manly firmness show,
dwelt

Upheld by talents, and their value know." Hlad mighty contest at elections selt:

This reason urged ; but it surpass'd his skill Sir Godfrey Ball, 'tis true, had held in pay To be in act as manly as in will: Electors many for the trying day ;

When he his lordship and the lady saw, But in such golden chains to bind them all Brave as he was, he felt oppress'd with awe; Required too much for e'en Sir Godfrey Ball. And spite of verse, that so much praise had won, A member died, and 10 supply his place,

The poet found he was the bailiff's son. Two heroes enter'd for th' important race ;

But dinner came, and the succeeding hours Sir Godfrey's friend and Earl Fitzdonnel's son, Fix'd his weak nerves, and raised his failing Lord Frederick Damer, both prepared to run :

powers ; And partial numbers saw with vast delight Praised and assured, he ventured once or twice Their good young lord oppose the proud old knight. On some remark, and bravely broke the ice ; Our poet's father, at a first request,

So that at night, reflecting on his words, Gave the young lord his vote and interest; He found, in time, he might converse with lords. And what he could our poet, for he stung

Now was the sister of his patron seen-
The foe by verse satiric, said and sung.

A lovely creature, with majestic mien ;
Lord Frederick heard of all this youthful zeal, Who, sofily smiling while she look'd so fair,
And felt as lords upon a canvass feel ;

Praised the young poet with such friendly air; He read the satire, and he saw the use

Such winning frankness in her looks express'd. That such cool insult, and such keen abuse And such attention co lier brother's guest, Might on the wavering minds of voting men pro- That so much beauty, join'd with speech so kind, duce;

Raised strong emotions in the poet's mind ;

Till reason fail'd his bosom to defend

“A waspish tribe are these, on gilded wings, From the sweet power of this enchanting friend.- Humming their lays, and brandishing their stings ; Rash boy! what hope thy frantic mind invades ? And thus they move their friends and foes among, What love confuses, and what pride persuades ? Prepared for soothing or satiric song. Awake to truth! shouldst thou deluded feed

Hear me, my boy; thou hast a virtuous mind-
On hopes so groundless, thou art mad indeed. But be thy virtues of the sober kind;
What say'st thou, wise one ? " that all powerful Be not a Quixote, ever up in arms
love

To give the guilty and the great alarms :
Can fortune's strong impediments remove ; If never heeded, thy attack is vain;
Nor is it strange that worth should wed to worth, And if they heed thee, they'll attack again ;
The pride of genius with the pride of birth.” Then too in striking at that heedless rate,
While thou art dreaming thus, the beauty spies Thou in an instant mayst decide thy fate.
Love in thy tremor, passion in thine eyes ;

“ Leave admonition-let the vicar give
And with th'amusement pleased, of conquest vain, Rules how the nobles of his flock should live;
She seeks her pleasure, careless of thy pain ; Nor take that simple fancy to thy brain,
She gives thee praise lo humble and confound, That thou canst cure the wicked and the vain.
Smiles to insnare, and flatters thee to wound. "Our Pope, they say, once entertain'd the whim,

Why has she said that in the lowest state Who fear'd not God should be afraid of him; The noble mind ensures a noble fate ?

But grant they fear'ā him, was it further said, And why thy daring mind to glory call ?

That he reform’d the hearts he made afraid? That thou mayst dare and sufler, soar and fall. Did Chartres mend? Ward, Waters, and a score Beauties are tyrants, and if they can reign, Of flagrant felons, with his floggings sore ? They have no feeling for their subject's pain; Was Cibber silenced? No; with vigour bless'd, Their victim's anguish gives their charms ap- And brazen front, half earnest, half in jest, plause,

He dared the bard to barile, and was seen And their chief glory is the wo they cause : In all his glory match'd with Pope and spleen; Something of this was felt, in spite of love. Himself he stripp'd, the harder blow to hit, Which hope, in spite of reason, would remove. Then boldly match'd his ribaldry with wit;

Thus lived our youth, with conversation, books, The poet's conquest Truth and Time proclaim, And lady Emma's soul-subduing looks ;

But yet the battle hurt his peace and fame. Lost in delight, astonish'd at his lot,

“ Strive not too much for favour ; seem at ease, All prudence banish'd, all advice forgot

And rather pleased thyself, than bent to please : Ilopes, fears, and every thought, were fix'd upon Upon thy lord with decent care attend, the spot.

But not 100 near; thou canst not be a friend ; Twas autumn yet, and many a day must frown And favourite be not, 'tis a dangerous postOn Brandon-Hall, ere went my lord to town; Is gain'd by labour, and by fortune lost : Meantime the father, who had heard his boy Talents like thine may make a man approved, Lived in a round of luxury and joy,

But other talents trusted und beloved. And justly thinking that the youth was one Look round, my son, and thou wilt carly see Who, meeting danger, was unskill'd 10 shun; The kind of man thou art not form'd to be. Knowing his temper, virtue, spirit, zeal,

“ The real favourites of the great are they How prone to hope and trust, believe and feel ; Who to their views and wants attention pay, These on the parent's soul their weight impress’d, And pay it ever ; who, with all their skill, And thus he wrote the counsels of his breast. Dive to the heart, and learn the secret will; “John, thou'rt a genius; thou hast some pre- If that be vicious, soon can they provide tence,

The favourite ill, and o'er the soul preside ;
I think, to wit, but hast thou sterling sense? For vice is weakness, and the artful know
That which, like gold, may through the world go Their, power increases as the passions grow;
forih,

If indolent the pupil, hard their task ;
And always pass for what 'tis truly worth? Such minds will ever for amusement ask ;
Whereas this genius like a bill, must take And great the labour! for a man to choose
Only the value our opinions make.

Objects for one whom nothing can amuse ;
* Men famed for wit, of dangerous talents vain, For ere those objects can the soul delight,
Treat those of common parts with proud disdain ; They must to joy the soul herself excite;
The powers that wisdom would, improving, hide, Therefore it is, this patient, watchful kind
They blaze abroad with inconsiderate pride ; With gentle friction stir the drowsy mind :
While yet but mere probationers for fame, Fix'd on their end, with caution they proceed,
They seize the honour they should then disclaim : | And sometimes give, and sometimes lake the lead ;
Honour so hurried to the light must fade,

Will now a hint convey, and then retire, The lasting laurels flourish in the shade.

And let the spark awake the lingering fire; “Genius is jealous ; I have heard of some Or seek new joys and livelier pleasures bring, Who, if annoticed, grew perversely dumb; To give the jaded sense a quickening spring. Nay, different talents would their envy raise ; “ These arts, indeed, my son must not pursue ; Poets have sicken'd at a dancer's praise;

Nor must he quarrel with the tribe that do : And one, the happiest writer of his time,

It is not safe another's crimes to know, Grew pale at bearing Reynolds was sublime ; Nor is it wise our proper worth to show : That Rutland's dutchess wore a heavenly smile My lord,' you say,' engaged me for that worth :'-And I, said he, neglected all the while !

True, and preserve it ready to come forth :

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If question'd, fairly answer-and that done, Let others frowr. and envy; she the while
Shrink back, be silent, and thy father's son; (Insidious syren !) will demurely smile;
For they who doubt thy talents scorn thy boast, And for her gentle purpose, every day
But they who grant them will dislike thee most : Inquire thy wants, and meet thee in thy way;
Observe the prudent; they in silence sit.

She has her blandishments, and though so weak, Display no learning, and affect no wit;

Her person pleases, and her actions speak:
They hazard nothing, nothing they assume, At first her folly may her aim defeat;
But know the useful art of acting dumb.

But kindness shown at length will kindness meet :
Yet to their eyes each varying look appears, Have some offended ? them will she disdain,
And every word finds entrance at their ears. And, for thy sake, contempt and pity seign;

· Thou art religion's advocate-take heed, She hates the vulgar, she admires to look Hurt not the cause, thy pleasure 'tis to plead ; On woods and groves, and dotes upon a book ; With wine before thee, and with wiis beside, Let her once see thee on her features dwell, Do not in strength of reasoning powers confide; And hear one sigh, then liberty farewell. What seems to thee convincing, certain, plain, “ But, John, remember we cannot maintain They will deny, and dare thee to maintain; A poor, proud girl, extravagant and vain. And thus will triumph o'er thy eager youth,

Doubt much of friendship: shouldst thou find While thou wilt grieve for so disgracing truth.

a friend · With pain I've seen, these wrangling wits Pleased to advise thee, anxious to commend; among

Should he the praises he has heard report, Faith's weak defenders, passionate and young; And confidence (in thee confiding) court; Weak ihou art not, yet not enough on guard, Much of neglectful patrons should he say, Where wit and humour keep their watch and And then exclaim— How long must merit stay" ward :

Then show how high thy modest hopes may Men gay and noisy will o'erwhelm thy sense,

stretch, Then loudly laugh at Truth's and thy expense ; And point to stations far beyond thy reach ; While the kind ladies will do all they can Let such designer, by thy conduct, sce To check their mirth, and cry, · The good young (Civil and cool) he makes no dupe of thee ; man."

And he will quit thee, as a man too wise “ Prudence, my boy, forbids thee to commend For him to ruin first, and then despise. The cause or party of thy noble friend ;

“ Such are thy dangers ;-yet if thou canst steer What are his praises worth, who must be known Past all the perils, all the quicksands clear, To take a patron's maxims for his own?

Then may'st thou profit; but if storms prevail, When ladies sing, or in thy presence play, If foes beset thee, if thy spirits fail, Do not, dear John, in rapture melt away;

No more of winds or waters be the sport, 'Tis not thy part, there will be listeners round, But in thy father's mansion find a port." To cry divine ! and doat upon the sound ;

Our poet read.--" It is in truth,” said he,
Remember too, that though the poor have ears, Correct in part, but what is this to me?
They take not in the music of the spheres ; I love a foolish Abigail! in base
They must not feel the warble and the thrill, And sordid office! fear not such disgrace:
Or be dissolved in ecstasy at will ;

Am I so blind ?” “Or thou wouldst surely see Besides, 'tis freedom in a youth like thee

That lady's fall, if she should stoop to thee!" To drop his awe, and deal in ecstasy!

“ The cases differ." “ True! for what surprise " In silent ease, at least in silence dine,

Could from thy marriage with the maid arise ! Nor one opinion start of food or wine :

But through ihe island would the shame be spread Thou know'st that all the science thou canst boast Should the fair mistress deign with thee to wed." Is of thy faiher's simple boil'd and roast ;

John saw not this ; and many a week had passid,
Nor always these ; he sometimes saved his cash, While the vain beauty held her victim fast;
By interlinear days of frugal hash :

The noble friend still condescension show'd,
Wine hadst thou seldom ; wilt thou be so vain And, as before, with praises overflow'd ;
As to decide on claret or champagne ?

But his grave lady took a silent view
Dost thou from me derive this taste sublime, Of all that pass'd, and smiling, pitied too.
Who order port the dozen at a time?

Cold

grew the foggy morn, the day was brief, When (every glass held precious in our eyes) Loose on the cherry hung the crimson leaf; We judged the value by the bottle's size:

The dew dwelt ever on the herb; the woods Then never merit for thy praise assume,

Roar'd with strong blasts, with mighty showers the Its worth well knows each servant in the room.

floods : • Hard, boy, thy task to steer thy way among All green was vanish'd, save of pine and yew, That servile, supple, shrewd, insidious throng; That still display'd their melancholy hue, Who look upon thee as of doubiful race,

Save the green holly with its berries red, An interloper, one who wants a place :

And the green moss that o'er the gravel spread. Freedom with these let thy free soul condemn, To public views my lord must soon attend; Nor with thy heart's concerns associate them. And soon the ladies-would they leave their friend?

“Of all be cautious—but be most afraid The time was fix'd-approach'd-was near-was of the pale charms that grace my lady's maid; Of those sweet dimples, of that fraudful eye, The trying time that fill'd his soul with gloom : The frequent glance design'd for thee to spy ; Thoughtful our poet in the morning rose, The soft bewitching look, the fond bewailing sigh: | And cried, “ One hour my fortune will disclose;

66

come:

Terrific hour! from thee have I to date

Ili brook'd he then the pert familiar phrase, Life's loftier views, or my degraded state ; The untaught freedom, and th' inquiring gaze ; For now to be what I have been before

Much was his temper touch'd, his spleen provoked, Is so to fall, that I can rise no more."

When ask'd how ladies talk'd, or walk'd, or look'd ? The morning meal was past, and all around " What said my lord of politics? how spent The mansion rang with each discordant sound; He there his time? and was he glad he went ?" Haste was in every foot, and every look

At length a letter came, both cool and brief, The traveller's joy for London journey spoke: But still it gave the burden'd heart relief: Not so our youth; whose feelings, at the noise Though not inspired by lofty hopes, the youth Oi preparation, had no touch of joys;

Placed much reliance on Lord Frederick's truth; He pensive stood, and saw each carriage drawn, Summon'd to town, he thought the visit one With lackeys mounted, ready on the lawn: Where something fair and friendly would be done. The ladies came ; and John 'n terror threw Although he judged not, as before his fall, One painful glance, and then his eyes withdrew; When all was love and promise at the hall. No: with such speed, but he in other eyes

Arrived in town, he early sought to know With anguish read—“I pity, but despise

The fate which dubious friendship would bestow. Cnhappy boy! presumptuous scribbler!-you At a tall building trembling he appear'd, To dream such dreams!—be sober, and adieu !" And his low rap was indistinctly heard ;

Then came the noble friend—“And will my lord A well known servant came—“ A while," said he, Vouchsafe no comfort? drop no soothing word ? “ Be pleased to wait, my lord has company." Yes, he must speak." fle speaks, " My good young Alone our hero sat ; the news in hand, friend,

Which though he read, he could not understand : You know my views; upon my care depend; Cold was the day : in days so cold as these My hearty thanks to your good father pay, There needs a fire, where minds and bodies freeze. And be a student.-Harry, drive away."

The vast and echoing room, the polish'd grate, Suillness reign'd all around; of late so full The crimson chairs, the sideboard with its plate; The busy scene, deserted now and dull:

The splendid sofa, which, though made for rest, Stern is his nature who forbears to feel

He then had thought it freedom to have press'd ; Gloom o'er his spirits on such trials steal ; The shining tables, curiously inlaid, Most keenly felt our poet as he went

Were all in comfortless proud style display'd, From room to room without a fix'd intent.

And to the troubled feelings terror gave, * And here," he thought, “ I was caress'd ; admired That made the once dear friend, the sickening Were here my songs; she smiled, and I aspired :

slave. The change how grievous !” As he mused, a “ Was he forgotten ?" Thrice upon his ear dame

Struck the loud clock, yet no relief was near. Busy and peevish to her duties came;

Each rattling carriage, and each thundering stroke Aside the tables and the chairs she drew, On the loud door, the dream of fancy broke : And sang and mutter'd in the poet's view : Oft as a servant chanced the way to come, “ This was her fortune; here they leave the poor ; Brings he a message ?" no! he pass'd the room : Enjoy themselves, and think of us no more : At length 'tis certain : “Sir, you will attend I had a promise-" here his pride and shame At twelve on Thursday!" Thus the day had end l'rged him to fly from this familiar dame ;

Vex'd by these tedious hours of needless pain, He gave one farewell look, and by a coach John left the noble mansion with disdain ; Reach'd his own mansion at the night's approach. For there was something in that still, cold place, His father met him with an anxious air,

That seem'd to threaten and portend disgrace. Heard his sad tale, and check'd what seem'd de Punctual again the modest rap declared spair.

The youth attended ; then was all prepared ; Hope was in him corrected, but alive;

For the same servant, by his lord's command, My lord would something for a friend contrive ; A paper offer'd to his trembling hand : His word was pledged ; our hero's feverish mind No more!” he cried ; "disdains he to afford Admitted this, and half his grief resign'd; One kind expression, one consoling word ?" But when three months had fled, and every day With troubled spirit he began to read Drew from the sickening hopes their strength away, That" In the church my lord could not succeed ;” The youth became abstracted, pensive, dull; Who had “ to peers of either kind applied, He utier'd nothing, though his heart was full: And was with dignity and grace denied : Teased by inquiring words and anxious looks, While his own livings were by men possess'd, And all forgetful of his muse and books;

Not likely in their chancels yet to rest. Awake he mourn'd, but in his sleep perceived And therefore, all things weigh’d, (as he, my lord, A lovely vision that his pain relieved:

Had done maturely, and he pledged his word,) Is soul transported, hail'd the happy seat,

Wisdom it seem'd for John to turn his view Where once his pleasure was so sure and sweet; To busier scenes, and bid the church adieu!" Where joys departed came in blissful view, Ilere grieved the youth; he felt his father's Till reason waked, and not a joy he knew.

pride Questions r.ow vex'd his spirit, most from those Must with his own be shock'd and mortified : Who are call'd friends because they are not foes : But when he found his future comforts placed ** John!" they would say; he starting, turn'd Where he, alas ! conceived himself disgracedaround;

(sound; In some appointment on the London quays, "John!" there was something shocking in the He bade farewell to honour and to ease;

IIis spirit fell, and from that hour assured

"Our brother, speak!” they all exclaim'd ; "es. Ilow vain his dreams, he suffer'd and was cured.

plain Our poet hurried on, with wish to fly

Thy grief, thy suffering :"—but they ask'd in vain : From all mankind, to be conceal'd, and die. The friend told all he knew; and all was known, Alas! what hopes, what high romantic views Save the sad causes whence the ills had grown: Did that one visit 10 the soul infuse,

But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed Which, cherish'd with such love, 'was worse than From rest and kindness must the cure proceed: death :o lose !

And he was cured ; for quiet, love, and care Still he would strive, though painful was the strise, Sirove with the gloom, and broke on the despair ; To walk in this appointed road of life;

Yet slow their progress, and, as vapours move On these low duties duteous he would wait,

Dense and reluctant from the wintry grove, And patient bear the anguish of his fate.

All is confusion till the morning light Thanks to the patron, but of coldest kind,

Gives the dim scene obscurely to the sight; Express'd the sadness of the poet's mind;

More and yet more refined the trunks appear, Whose heavy hours were pass'd with busy men Till the wild prospect stands distinct and clear; In the dull practice of th' official pen ;

So the dark mind of our young poet grew Who to superiors must in time impart

Clear and sedate ; the dreadful mist withdrew: (The custom this) his progress in their art :

And he resembled that bleak wintry scene, But so had grief on his perception wrought, Sad, though unclouded; dismal, though serene. That all unheeded were the duties taught;

Al times he utter'd, “ What a dream was mine! No answers gave he when his trial came,

And what a prospect! glorious and divine ! Silent he stood, but suffering without shame ; 0! in that room, and on that night, to see And they observed that words severe or kind These looks, that sweetness beaming all on me; Made no impression on his wounded mind; That syren flattery-and to send me then, For all perceived from whence his failure rose, Hope-raised and soften'd, to those heartless men ; Some grief whose cause he deign'd not to dis- That dark brow'd stern director pleased to show close.

Knowledge of subjects, I disdain'd to know; A soul averse from scenes and works so new, Cold and controlling—but 'tis gone, 'ris past; Fear ever shrinking from the vulgar crew; I had my trial, and have peace at last." Distaste for each mechanic law and rule,

Now grew the youth resign'd; he bade adieu Thonghts of past honour and a patron cool ; To all that hope, to all that fancy drew; A grieving parent, and a feeling mind,

His frame was languid, and the hectic heat Timid and ardent, tender and refined :

Flush'd on his pallid face, and countless beat These all with mighty force the youth assail'd, The quickening pulse, and faint the limbs that bore Till his soul fainted, and his reason sail'd :

The slender form that soon would breathe no When this was known, and some debate arose

more. How they who saw it should the fact disclose, Then hope of holy kind the soul sustain'd, He found their purpose, and in terror Hed

And not a lingering ibought of earth remaind; From unseen kindness, with mistaken dread. Now Heaven had all, and he could smile at love, Meantime the parent was distress'd to find

And the wild sallies of his youth reprove; His son no longer for a priest design'd;

Then could he dwell upon the tempting days, But still he gain'd some comfort by the news

The proud uspiring thought, the partial praise ; Of John's promotion, though with humbler views : | Victorious now, his worldly views were closed, For he conceived that in no distant time

And on the bed of death the youth reposed. The boy would learn to scramble, and to climb : The father grieved—but as the poet's heart He little thought a son, his hope and pride,

Was all unfitted for his earthly part ;
His favour'd boy was now a home denied : As, he conceived, some other haughty fair
Yes ! while the parent was intent to trace

Would, had he lived, have led him to despair ;
How men in office climb from place to place, As, with this fear, the silent grave shut out
By day, by night, o'er moor, and heath, and hill, All feverish hope, and all tormenting doubt ;
Roved the sad youth, with ever-changing will, While the strong faith the pious youth possessid,
Of
every aid berefi, exposed to every ill.

His hope enlivening, gave his sorrows rest; Thus as he sat, absorb'd in all the care

Soothed by these thoughts, he felt a mournful joy And all the hope that anxious fathers share, For his aspiring and devoted boy. A friend abruptly to his presence brought,

Meantime the news through various channels With trembling hand, the subject of his thought; spread,

(dead : Whom he had found afflicted and subdued

The youth, once favour'd with such praise, was By hunger, sorrow, cold, and solitude.

Emma,” the lady cried, “my words attend, Silent he entered the forgotten room,

Your syren smiles have kill'd your humble friend ; As ghostly forms may be conceived to come ; The hope you raised can now delude no more, With sorrow-shrunken face and hair upright, Nor charms, that once inspired, can now restore." IIe look'd dismay, neglect, despair, affright;

Faint was the flush of anger and of shame But dead to comfort, and on misery thrown, That o'er the cheek of conscious beauty came : His parent's loss he felt not, nor his own.

You censure not," said she, " the sun's bright The good man, struck with horror, cried aloud,

rays, And drew around him an astonish'd crowd ; When fools imprudent dare the dangerous gaze; The sons and servants to the father ran,

And should a stripling look till he were blind, To share the feelings of the grieved old man. You would not justly call the light unkind

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