« ПретходнаНастави »
Bui is he dead ? and am I to suppose
But Sybil then was in that playful time, The power of poison in such looks as those ? When contradiction is not held a crime; She spoke, and, pointing to the mirror, cast When parents yield their children idle praise A pleased gay glance, and court’sied as she pass'd. For faults corrected in their after days.
My lord, to whom the poet's fate was told, Peace in the sober house of Jonas dwelt, Was much affected, for a man so cold :
Where each his duty and his station selt: " Dead !" said his lordship, “run distracted, mad! Yet not that peace some favour'd morlals find, Upon my soul I'm sorry for the lad;
In equal views and harmony of mind; And now, no doubt, th' obliging world will say Not the soft peace that blesses those who love, That my harsh usage help'd him on his way: Where all with one consent in union move; What! I suppose, I should have nursed his muse, But it was that which one superior will And with champagne have brightend up his Commands, by making all inferiors still; views;
Who bids all murmurs, all objections cease, Then had he made me famed my whole life long, And with imperious voice announces-Peace! And stunn'd my ears with gratitude and song. They were, to wit, a remnant of that crew, Sull should the father hear that I regret
Who, as their foes maintain, their sovereign slew; Our joint misfortune-yes ! I'll not forget." An independent race, precise, correct,
Thus they:—The father to his grave convey'd Who ever married in the kindred sect : The son he loved, and his last duties paid. No son or daughter of their order wed
“ There lies my boy,” he cried, “ of care bereft, A friend to England's king who lost his head; And Heaven be praised, I've not a genius left: Cromwell was still their saint, and when they met, No one among ye, sons! is doom'd to live They mourn'd that saints* were not our rulers yet. On high-raised hopes of what the great may give ; Fix'd were their habits : they arose belimes, None, with exalted views and fortunes mean, Then pray'd their hour, and sang their party To die in anguish, or to live in spleen:
rhymes : Your pious brother soon escaped the strise Their meals were plenteous, regular, and plain ; Of such contention, but it cost his life ;
The trade of Jonas brought him constant gain; You then, my sons, upon yourselves depend, Vender of hops and malt, of coals and cornAnd in your own exertions find the friend." And, like his father, he was merchant born :
Neat was their house ; each table, chair and stool
No lively print or picture graced the room ;
A plain brown paper lent its decent gloom;
But here the eye, in glancing round, survey'd THE FRANK COURTSHIP.
A small recess that seem'd for china made ;
Such pleasing pictures seem'd this pencill'd ware, Yes faith, it is my cousin's duty to make a courtesy, and That few would search for nobler objects theresey, " Father, as it please you;" but for all that
, conisin, Yet turn'd by chosen friends, and there appeard let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say, "Father, as it pleases me."
His stern, strong features, whom they all revered ;
For there in lofty air was seen to stand
The bold protector of the conquer'd land; an honest mind and plain-he must speak truth. Drawn in that look with which he wept and swore,
King Lear, act ii. sc. 2. Turn'd out the members, and made fast the door, God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves Ridding the house of every knave and drone, another; you jig, you amble, you nick name God's crea. Forced, though it grieved his soul, to rule alone. tures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. The stern still smile each friend approving gave,
Hamlet, act iij. sc. 1.
Then turn'd the view, and all again were grave. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true ?
There stood a clock, though small the owner's Am I contemn'd for pride and scorn so much ?
need, Much Ado about Nothing, act ii. sc. 1.
For habit told when all things should proceed; GRAVE Jonas Kindred, Sybil Kindred's sire, Few their amusements, but when friends appear'd, Was six feet high, and look'd six inches higher; They with the world's distress their spirits cheer'd; Ereci, morose, determined, solemn, slow,
The nation's guilt, that would not long endure Who knew the man, could never cease to know ; The reign of men so modest and so pure : His faithful spouse, when Jonas was not by, Their town was large, and seldom pass'd a day Had a firm presence and a steady eye;
But some had fail'd, and others gone astray ; But with her husband dropp'd her look and tone, Clerks had absconded, wives eloped, girls flown And Jonas ruled unquestion’d and alone.
To Gretna Green, or sons rebellious grown;
They had one daughter, and this favourite child
* This appellation is here used not ironically, nor with Soothed by attention from her early years,
malignity ; but it is taken merely to designate a morosely She gain'd all wishes by her smiles or tears : devout people, with peculiar austerity of manners.
Jonas had sisters, and of these was one
The aunt and niece still led a pleasant life, Who lost a husband and an only son ;
And quiet days had Jonas and his wife. Twelve months her sables she in sorrow wore, Near him a widow dwelt of worthy fame, And mourn'd so long, that she could mourn no Like his her manners, and her creed the same ;
The wealth her husband left, her care retain'd Distant from Jonas, and from all her race.
For one tall youth, and widow she remain'd; She now resided in a lively place ;
His love respectful all her care repaid, There, by the sect unseen, at whist she play'd, Her wishes watch'd, and her commands obey'd. Nor was of churchmen or their church afraid : Sober he was and grave from early youth, If much of this the graver brother heard,
Mindful of forms, but more intent on truth; He something censured, but he little fear'd; In a light drab he uniformly dress'd, He knew her rich and frugal; for the rest And look serene th' unruffled mind express'd; Ile felt no care, or, if he felt, suppress’d ;
A hat with ample verge his brows o'erspread. Nor for companion when she ask'd her niece, And his brown locks curl'd graceful on his head; Llad he suspicions that disturb’d his peace;
Yet might observers in his speaking eye Frugal and rich, these virtues as a charm
Some observation, some acuteness spy ; Preserved the thoughtful man from all alarm ; The friendly thought it keen, the treacherous An infant yet, she soon would home return,
deem'd it sly; Nor siay the manners of the world to learn ; Yet not a crime could foe or friend detect, Meantime his boys would all his care engross, His actions all were, like his speech, correct; And be his comforts if he felt the loss.
And they who jested on a mind so sound, The sprightly Sybil, pleased and unconfined, Upon his virtues must their laughter found ; Felt the pure pleasure of the opening mind • Chaste, sober, solemn, and devout they named All here was gay and cheerful; all at home Him who was thus, and not of this ashamed. Unvaried quiet, and unruffled gloom :
Such were the virtues Jonas found in one There were no changes, and amusements few; In whom he warmly wish'd to find a son : Here all was varied, wonderful, and new : Three years had pass'd since he had Sy bil seen ; There were plain meals, plain dresses, and grave But she was doubtless what she once had been,
Lovely and mild, obedient and discreet; Here, gay companions and amusing books: The pair must love whenever they should meet And the young beauty soon began to taste
Then ere the widow or her son should choose The light vocations of the scene she graced. Some happier maid, he would explain his views. A man of business feels it as a crime
Now she, like him, was politic and shrewd, On calls domestic to consume his time;
With strong lesire of lawful gain imbued Yet this grave man had not so cold a heart, To all he said she bow'd with much respect, But with his daughter he was grieved to part: Pleased to comply, yet seeming to reject; And he demanded that in every year
Cool and yet eager, each admired the strength The aunt and niece should at his house appear. of the opponent, and agreed at length:
“ Yes! we must go, my child, and by our dress As a drawn battle shows to each a force, A grave conformity of mind express ;
Powerful as his, he honours it of course ; Must sing at meeting, and from cards refrain, So in these neighbours, each the power discern'd, The more t' enjoy when we return again." And gave the praise that was to each return'd.
Thus spake the aunt, and the discerning child Jonas now ask'd his daughter; and the aunt, Was pleased to learn how fathers are beguiled. Though loath to lose her, was obliged to grant :Her artful part the young dissembler took, But would not Sybil to the matron cling, And from the matron caught th' approving look: And fear to leave the shelter of her wing ? When thrice the friends had met, excuse was sent No! in the young there lives a love of change, For more delay, and Jonas was content;
And to the easy they prefer the strange ! Till a tall maiden by her sire was seen,
Then too the joys she once pursued with zeal, In all the bloom and beauty of sixteen;
From whist and visits sprung, she ceased to feel ; He gazed admiring ;-she, with visage prim, When with the matrons Sybil first sat down, Glanced an arch look of gravity on him;
To cut for partners and to stake her crown, For she was gay at heart, but wore disguise, This to the youthful maid preferment seem'd, And stood a vestal in her father's eyes :
Who thought what woman she was then esteem'd Pure, pensive, simple, sad ; the damsel's heart, But in few years, when she perceived, indeed, When Jonas praised, reproved her for the part; The real woman to the girl succeed, For Sybil, fond of pleasure, gay and light,
No longer tricks and honours fillid her mind, Had still a secret bias to the right;
But other feelings, not so well defined ; Vain as she was—and flattery made her vain She then reluctant grew, and thought it hard Her simulation gave her bosom pain.
To sit and ponder o'er an ugly card ; Again return'd, the matron and the niece Rather the nut tree shade.the nymph preferr'd, Found the late quiet gave their joy increase;
Pleased with the pensive gloom and evening bird The aunt, infirm, no more her visits paid, Thither, from company retired, she took But still with her sojourn'd the favourite maid. The silent walk, or read the favourite book. Letters were sent when franks could be procured, The father's letter, sudden, short, and kind, And when they could not, silence was endured ; Awaked her wonder, and disturb'd her mind; All were in health, and if they older grew, She found new dreams upon her fancy seize It seem'd a fact that none among them knew; Wild roving thoughts and endless reveries
The parting came; and when the aunt perceived “Alas ""' the matron answer'd, “much I dread
When Sy bil rested in her father's arms, Can eyes and feelings inward worth descry?
All flesh is grass_before you give a heart, Her mode of speaking than a maid's should be ; Remember, Sybil, that in death you part ; Too much, as Jonas thought, she seem'd to know, And should your husband die before your love, And all her knowledge was disposed to show; What needless anguish must a widow prove! * Too gay her dress, like theirs who idly dote No! my fair child, let all such visions cease; On a young coscomb, or a coxcomb's coat; Yield but esteem, and only try for peace." In foolish spirits when our friends appear,
“I must be loved," said Sybil ; " I must see And rainly grave when not a man is near.' 'The man in terrors who aspires to me;
Thus Jonas, adding to his sorrow blame, At my forbidding frown, his heart must ache, And terms disdainful to his sister's name : His tongue must falter, and his frame must shake : * The sinful wretch has by her aris defiled And if I grant him at my feet to kneel, The ducule spirit of my darling child."
What trembling, fearful pleasure must he feel ! *The maid is virtuous," said the dame.—Quoth Nay! such the raptures that my smiles inspire, he,
That reason's self must for a time retire." " Let her give proof, by acting virtuously :
· Alas! for good Josiah," said the dame, Is it in gaping when the elders pray?
“These wicked thoughts would fill his soul with In reading nonsense half a summer's day?
shame; In those mock forms that she delights to trace, He kneel and tremble at a thing of dust! Or her loud laughs in Hezekiah's face?
He cannot, child.”—The child replied, “He must.” She-O Susannah !-to the world belongs;
They ceased : the matron left her with a frown; She loves the follies of its idle throngs,
So Jonas met her when the youth came down : And reads soft tales of love, and sings love's soft Behold," said he, “ thy future spouse attends ; ening songs.
Receive him, daughter, as the best of friends; But, as our friend is yet delay'd in town, Observo, respect him ; humble be each word We must prepare her till the youth comes dowi. That welcomes home thy husband and thy lord.” You shall advise the maiden; I will threat; Forewarn'd, thought Sybil, with a bitter smile, Her fears and hopes may yield us comfort yet.” I shall prepare my manner and my style. Now the grave father took the lass aside,
Ere yet Josiah enter'd on his task, Demanding sternly, “ Wilt thou be a bride ?" The father met him ; “ Deign to wear a mask She answer'd, calling up an air sedate,
A few dull days, Josiah-but a few* I have not row'd against the holy state.” It is our duty, and the sex's due ;
" No folly, Sybil," said the parent ; " know I wore it once, and every grateful wife What to their parents virtuous maidens owe Repays it with obedience through her life : A worthy, wealthy youth, whom I approve, Have no regard to Sybil's dress, have none Must thuu prepare to honour and to love.
To her pert language, to her flippant tone : Formal to thee his air and dress may seem, Henceforward thou shalt rule unquestion's and But the good youth is worthy of esteem; Shouldst thou with rudeness treat him ; of disdain And she thy pleasure in thy looks shall seek Should he with justice or of slight complain, How she shall dress, and whether she may speak. “ Or of one taunting speech give certain proof A sober smile return'd the youth, and said, Girl! I reject thee from my sober roof.”
“Can I cause fear, who am myself afraid ?” " My aunt,” said Sy bil, “ will with pride protect Sybil, meantime, sat thoughtful in her room, One whom a father can for this reject ;
And often wonder'd—“ Will the creature come? Nor shall a formal, rigid, soulless boy
Nothing shall tempt, shall force me to bestow My manners alter, or my views destroy !" My hand upon him, yet I wish to know.” Jonas then lifted up his hands on high,
The door unclosed, and she beheld her sire And uttering something 'twixt a groan and sigh, Lead in the youth, then hasten to retire ; Left the determined maid, her doubtful mother by. Daughter, my friend : my daughter, friend,"-he
" Hear me," she said ;“ incline thy heart, my child, cried, And fix thy fancy on a man so mild :
And gave a meaning look, and stepp'd aside ; Thy father, Sybil, never could be moved
That look contain'd a mingled threat and prayer, By one who loved him, or by one he loved Do take him, child,-oflend him, if you dare.” l'nion like ours is but a bargain made
The couple gazed—were silent, and the maid By slave and tyrant-he will be obey'd ;
Look'd in his face, to make the man afraid ;
A steady view—so salutation pass'd :
The glow that temperance o'er the cheek had spread, Could it for errors, follies, sins atone,
Thy soul from sorrow, or thy flesh from harm :
Speak’st thou at meeting ?" said the nymph ; The formal air, and something of the pride
“thy speech That indicates the wealth it seems to hide ; Is that of mortal very prone to teach ; And looks that were not, she conceived, exempt But wouldst thou, doctor, from the patient learn From a proud pity, or a sly contempt.
Thine own disease ?—The cure is thy concem." Josiah's eyes had their employment too,
“ Yea, with good will."-" Then know, 'tis thy Engaged and soften'd by so bright a view;
complaint, A fair and meaning face, an eye of fire,
That, for a sinner, thou'rt too much a saint; That check'd the bold, and made the free retire : Hast too much show of the sedate and pure, But then with these he mark'd the studied dress And without cause art formal and demure : And lofty air, that scorn or pride express ;
This makes a man unsocial, unpolite ; With that insidious look, that seemd to hide Odious when wrong, and insolent if right. In an affected smile the scorn and pride ; Thou mayst be good, but why should goodness be And if his mind the virgin's meaning caught, Wrapt in a garb of such formality ? He saw a foe with treacherous purpose fraught, Thy person well might please a damsel's eye, Captive the heart to take, and to reject it caught. In decent habit with a scarlet dye;
Silent they sat :-thought Sybil, that he seeks But, jest apart-what virtue canst thou trace Something, no doubt; I wonder if he speaks : In that broad brim that hides thy sober face? Scarcely she wonder’d, when these accents fell Does that long-skirted drab, that over-nice Slow in her ear—" Fair maiden, art thou well ?" And formal clothing, prove a scorn of vice? “ Art thou physician ?" she replied ; " my hand,
Then for thine accent-what in sound can be My pulse, at least, shall be at thy command." So void of grace as dull monotony ?
She said and saw, surprised, Josiah kneel, Love has a thousand varied notes to move And gave his lips the offer'd pulse to feel ; The human heart;—thou mayst not speak of love The rosy colour rising in her cheek,
Till thou hast cast thy formal ways aside,
Thou art,” said he ; " and yet thy dress so light, Not till these follies meet thy just disclain,
While yet thy virtues and thy worth remain." “ In whom !” said Sybil, with a look demure : “ This is severe !0! maiden, wilt not thou " In more," said he, “ than I expect to cure. Something for habits, manners, modes, allow !"I, in thy light luxuriant robe, behold
· Yes! but allowing much, I much require, Want and excess , abounding and yet cold ; In my behalf, for manners, modes, attire !" Here needed, there display'd, in many a wanton " True, lovely Sybil; and, this point agreed,
Let me to those of greater weight proceed : Both health and be auty, learned authors show, Thy father!"-"Nay,” she quickly interposed, From a just medium in our clothing flow."
“Good doctor, here our conference is closed !" Proceed, good doctor ; if so great my need, Then left the youth, who, lost in his retreat, What is thy fee? Good doctor! pray proceed." Pass'd the good matron on her garden-seat; · Large is my fee, fair lady, but I take
His looks were troubled, and his air, once mild None till some progress in my cure I make : And calm, was hurried :-“ My audacious child."" Thou hast disease, fair maiden ; thou art vain; Exclaim'd the dame, “I read what she has done Within that face sit insult and disdain ;
In thy displeasure-Ah! the thoughtless one! Thou art enamour'd of thyself; my art
But yet, Josiah, to my stern good man Can see the naughty malice of thy heart :
Speak of the maid as mildly as you can: With a strong pleasure would thy bosom move, Can you not seem to woo a little while Were I to own thy power, and ask thy love ; The daughter's will, the father to beguile ! And such thy beauty. damsel, that I might, So that his wrath in time may wear away ; But for thy pride, feel danger in thy sight, Will you preserve our peace, Josiah ? say." And lose my present peace in dreams of vain de “Yes! my good neighbour," said the gentle light."
youth, “And can thy patients," said the nymph,“ endure Rely securely on my care and truth ; Physic like this? and will it work a cure ?" And should thy comfort with my efforts cease,
“Such is my hope, fair damsel; thou, I find, And only then-perpetual is thy peace." Hast the true tokens of a noble mind;
The dame had doubts : she well his virtues But the world wins thee, Sybil, and thy joys
knew, Are placed in trifles, fashions, follies, toys; His deeds were friendly, and his words were true ; Thou hast sought pleasure in the world around, But to address this vixen is a task That in thine own pure bosom should be found : He is ashamed to take, and I to ask." Did all that world admire thee, praise, and love, Soon as the father from Josiah learn'd Could it the least of nature's pains remove ? What pass'd with Sy hil, he the truth discern'd.
* He loves," the man exclaim'd," he loves, 'tis But when the men beside their station took, plain,
The maidens with them, and with these the cook ; The thoughtless girl, and shall he love in vain ? When one huge wooden bowl before them stood, She may be stubborn, but she shall be tried, Fillid with huge balls, of farinaceous food ; Born as she is of wilfulness and pride."
With bacon, mass saline, where never lean With anger fraught, but willing to persuade, Beneath the brown and bristly rind was seen ; The wrathful father met the smiling maid : When from a single horn the party drew * Sybil,” said he, “I long, and yet I dread Their copious draughts of heavy ale and new; To know thy conduct; hath Josiah fled ?
When the course cloth she saw, with many a stain, And, grieved and fretted by thy scornful air, Soil'd by rude hinds who cut and came again, For his lost peace betaken him to prayer ?
She could not breathe ; but, with a heavy sigh, Couldst thou his pure and modest mind distress, Rein'd the fair neck, and shut th' offended eye ; By vile remarks upon his speech, address,
She minced the sanguine flesh in frustums fine, Attire, and voice !"_“ All this I must confess.”— And wonder'd much to see the creatures dine: " Unhappy child! what labour will it cost
When she resolved her father's heart to move, To win him back!"_“ I do not think him lost.”— If hearts of farmers were alive to love. “ Courts he then, trifler! insult and disdain ?”— She now entreated by herself to sit ** No: but from these he courts me to refrain." In the small parlour, if papa thought fit, " Then hear me, Sybil ; should Josiah leave And there to dine, to read, to work alone : Thy father's house ?”—“My father's child would No!" said the farmer, in an angry tone; grieve."
" These are your school-taught airs ; your mother's “That is of grace, and if he come again
pride To speak of love ?"_“I might from grief refrain.". Would send you there; but I am now your guide. " Then wilt thou, daughter, our design embrace ?" Arise betimes, our early meal prepare, *Can I resist it, if it be of grace ?"
And this despatch'd, let business be your care ; “ Dear child! in three plain words thy mind ex- Look to the lasses, let there not be one press;
Who lacks attention, till her tasks be done; Wilt thou have this good youth ?”—“Dear father! In every household work your portion take, yes."
And what you make not, see that others make :
A useful lass, you may have more to do."
Dreadful were these commands; but worse than THE WIDOW'S TALE.
these Ah me! for aught that I could ever read,
The parting hint, a farmer could not please : Or ever hear by tale or history,
'Tis true she had without abhorrence seen The course of true love never did run smooth : Young Harry Carr, when he was smart and clean; Bat either it was different in blood,
But to be married, be a farmer's wife, Or else misgrafted in respect of years,
A slave! a drudge! she could not, for her life. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends;
With swimming eyes the fretful nymph with. Or if there were a sympathy in choice,
drew, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it. Midsummer Night's Dream, act i. sc. I.
And, deeply sighing, to her chamber flew;
There on her knees, to Heaven she grieving pray'd
Harry, a youth whose late departed sire
Saw the pale beauty; and her shape and air Cry the man mercy; love him, take his offer. Engaged him much, and yet he must forbear :
Ibid. act iii. sc. 5.
For my small farm what can the damsel do ?"
He said ; then stopp'd to take another view : To farmer Moss, in Langar Vale, came down " Pity so sweet a lass will nothing learn His only daughter, from her school in town; Of household cares ; for what can beauty earn A tender, timid maid! who knew not how By those small arts which they at school attain, To pass a pig-sty, or to face a cow :
That keep them useless, and yet make them vain ? Smiling she came, with petty talents graced, This luckless damsel look'd the village round, A fair complexion, and a slender waist.
To find a friend, and one was quickly found ; Used to spare meals, disposed in manner pure, A pensive widow, whose mild air and dress Her father's kitchen she could ill endure ; Pleased the sad nymph, who wish'd her soul's disWhere by the steaming beef he hungry sat,
tress And laid at once a pound upon his plate :
To one so seeming kind, confiding, to confess. Hot from the field, her eager brother seized
“ What lady that ?" the anxious lass inquired, An equal part, and hunger's rage appeased ; Who then beheld the one she most admired : The air, surcharged with moisture, fagg’d around, “Here," said the brother, “ are no ladies seenAnd the offended damsel sigh'd and frown'd; That is a widow dwelling on the green ; The swelling fat in lumps conglomerate laid, A dainty dame, who can but barely live And fancy's sickness seized the loathing maid : On her poor pittance, yet contrives to give ;