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His spirit fell, and from that hour assured
“Our brother, speak!" they all exclaim'd ; “ er How 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 to the soul infuse,
But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed Which, cherish'd with such love, 'twas worse than From rest and kindness must the cure proceed : death to lose !
And he was cured ; for quiet, love, and care Still he would strive, though painful was the strife, 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;
At 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, 'tis 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 Thoughts 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 heal 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 fail'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 fled And not a lingering thought of earth remain'd; From unseen kindness, with mistaken dread. Now Heaven had all, and he could smile at love,
Meantime the parent was distressd 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 aspiring 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 bereft, 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." He look'd dismay, neglect, despair, affright; Faint was the Aush 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 brigh: 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
But 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 mortals find, Cpon 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 brighten'd 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, lo wit, a remnant of that crew, Still 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 betimes, 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 strife 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 theresay, " Father, as it please you;” but for all that, consin, Yet turn'd by chosen friends, and there appear'd. 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;
Drawn in that look with which he wept and swore, King Lear, act ij. 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. tares, and make your wantonness your ignorance. The stern still smile each friend approving gave,
Hamlet, act iii. 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; Erect, 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 qniet 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,
Mindful of forms, but more intent on truth;
And look serene th' unruffed mind express'd ; He felt no care, or, if he felt, suppressid ;
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; Had 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 stay 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 Sybil 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 desire 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 seerning 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 ;
Powersul 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 esteemid 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 filld her mind,
But other feelings, not so well defined ;
To sit and ponder o'er an ugly card ;
The parting came; and when the aunt perceived "Alas!" the matron answer'd,“ much I dread
Can eyes and feelings inward worth descry?
Indulged is folly, and opposed is rage ;-
More prudent love our sober couples show, He saw his judgment by his hopes misled ; All that to mortal beings, mortals owe;High were the lady's spirits, far more free
All flesh is grass—before you give a heart,
And should your husband die before your love,
"I must be loved,” said Sybil ; “I must see
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 arts defiled And if I grant him at my feet to kneel, The ductile spirit of my darling child."
What irembling, 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?
IIe cannot, child.”—The child replied, “ He must." She-0 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 ;
Observe, respect him ; humble be each word
Forewarn'd, thought Sybil, with a bitter smile,
Ere yet Josiah enter'd on his task,
A few dull days, Josiah-but a few* I have not vow'd against the holy state.” It is our duty, and the ser's due ;
** No folly, Sybil," said the parent ; “ know I wore it once, and every grateful wife
"Can I cause fear, who am myself afraid ?" * My aunt," said Sybil, * 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 fir thy fancy on a man so mild :
And gave a meaning look, and stepp'd aside ; Thy father, Sybil, never could be moved
Thai look contain'd a mingled threat and prayer, By one who loved him, or by one he loved “Do take him, child,- offend him, if you dare.” Union like ours is but a bargain made
'The couple gazed-were silent, and the maid Bộ slave and tyrant-he will be obey'd ;
Look'd in his face, to make the man afraid;
The glow that temperance o'er the cheek had spread, I 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 concern." Josiah's eyes had their employment too,
“ Yea, with good will."" Then know, 'tis thy Engaged and soften'd by so bright a view;
complaini, A fair and meaning face, an eye of fire,
That, for a sinner, thou’rt too much a saint;
Thou mayst be good, but why should goodness be
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, Seem'd that surprise unmix'd with wrath to speak; And those becoming youth and nature tried : Then sternnoss she assumed, and—“ Doctor, tell, Not till exterior freedom, spirit, ease, Thy words cannot alarm me--am I well ?" Prove it thy study and delight to please ; " Thou art," said he ; " and yet thy dress so light, Not till these follies meet thy just disdain, I do conceive, some danger must excite :"
While yet thy virtues and thy worth remain." " In whom !” said Sybil, with a look demure: “ This is severe 40! 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 Sy bil; and, this point agreed, fold :
Let me to those of greater weight proceed : Both health and beauty, 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 gent 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 virty 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 tru 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 Sybil, he the truth discern'd.