There is a state in which it will appear
With all the good and ill contracted here;
With gain and loss, improvement and defect;
And then, my soul! what hast thou to expect
For talents laid aside, life's waste, and time's neglect?
Home I return'd, with spirits in that state
Of vacant woe, I strive not to relate,
Nor how, deprived of all her hope and strength,
My soul turn'd feebly to the world at length.
Patient and dull I grew; my uncle's praise
Was largely dealt me on my better days;
A love of money-other love at rest-
Came creeping on, and settled in my breast;
The force of habit held me to the oar,
Till I could relish what I scorn'd before:
I now could talk and scheme with men of sense,
Who deal for millions, and who sigh for pence;
And grew so like them, that I heard with joy
Old Blueskin said I was a pretty boy.
But I was sick, and sickness brought disgust;
My peace
I could not to my profits trust:
Again some views of brighter kind appear'd,
My heart was humbled, and my mind was clear'd;
I felt those helps that souls diseased restore,
And that cold frenzy, Avarice, raged no more.
From dreams of boundless wealth I then arose;
This place, the scene of infant bliss, I chose,
And here I find relief, and here I seek repose.
Yet much is lost, and not yet much is found, But what remains, I would believe, is sound;
That first wild passion, that last mean desire,
Are felt no more; but holier hopes require
A mind prepared and steady—my reform
Has fears like his, who, suffering in a storm,
Is on a rich but unknown country cast,
The future fearing, while he feels the past;
But whose more cheerful mind, with hope imbued,
Sees through receding clouds the rising good.
OUR knight a tenant had in high esteem,
His constant boast, when justice was his theme:
He praised the farmer's sense, his shrewd discourse,
Free without rudeness, manly, and not coarse;
As farmer, tenant, nay, as man, the knight
Thought Ellis all that is approved and right;
Then he was happy, and some envy drew,
For knowing more than other farmers knew.
Still more t' offend, he to the altar led
The vicar's niece, to early reading bred;
Who, though she freely ventured on the life,
Could never fully be the farmer's wife;
She had a softness, gentleness, and ease,
Sure a coarse mind to humble and displease.
Three darling girls the happy couple bless'd,
Who now the sweetest lot of life possess'd;
For what can more a grateful spirit move
Than health with competence, and peace with love?
Ellis would sometimes, thriving man! retire
To the town inn, and quit the parlour fire;
* Episode from the tale called "Sir Owen Dale," related by the elder brother.
But he was ever kind where'er he went,
Still, when his evenings at the inn were spent,
She mused at home in sullen discontent;
And, sighing yielded to a wish that some
With social spirit to the farm would come :
There was a farmer in the place, whose name,
And skill in rural arts, was known to fame :
He had a pupil, by his landlord sent,
On terms that gave the parties much content;
The youth those arts, and those alone, should learn,
With aught beside his guide had no concern:
He might to neighb'ring towns or distant ride,
And there amusements seek without a guide;
With handsome prints his private room was graced,
His music there, and there his books were placed :
Men knew not if he farm'd, but they allow'd him taste.
Books, prints, and music cease, at times, to charm, And sometimes men can neither ride nor farm; They look for kindred minds, and Cecil found, In Farmer Ellis, one informed and sound; But in his wife-I hate the fact I tellA lovely being, who could please too well: And he was one who never would deny Himself a pleasure, or indeed would try.
Early and well the wife of Ellis knew Where danger was, and trembled at the view; So evil spirits tremble, but are still
Evil, and lose not the rebellious will:
She sought not safety from the fancied crime,
"And why retreat before the dangerous time?”
Oft came the student of the farm and read, And found his mind with more than reading fed: This Ellis seeing, left them, or he stay'd,
As pleased him, not offended nor afraid :
He came in spirits with his girls to play,
Then ask excuse, and laughing, walk away:
When, as he enter'd, Cecil ceased to read,
He would exclaim, "Proceed, my friend, proceed!"
Or, sometimes weary, would to bed retire,
And fear and anger by his ease inspire.
"My conversation does he then despise ? "Leaves he this slighted face for other eyes?" So said Alicia; and she dwelt so long Upon that thought, to leave her was to wrong.
Alas! the woman loved the soothing tongue That yet pronounced her beautiful and young; The tongue that, seeming careless, ever praised; The eye that roving, on her person gazed: The ready service, on the watch to please; And all such sweet, small courtesies as these.
Still there was virtue, but a rolling stone
On a hill's brow is not more quickly gone;
The slightest motion,-ceasing from our care,-
A moment's absence,-when we're not aware,—
When down it rolls, and at the bottom lies,
Sunk, lost, degraded, never more to rise!
Far off the glorious height from whence it fell,
With all things base and infamous to dwell.
|