While yet to wait the pair were half content,
And half disposed their purpose to repent,
A spinster aunt, in some great baron's place,
Would see a damsel, pride of all her race:
And Fanny, flatter'd by the matron's call,
Obey'd her aunt, and long'd to see the Hall.

Now that good dame had in the castle dwelt
So long that she for all its people felt;
She kept her sundry keys, and ruled o'er all,
Female and male, domestics in the hall;
By her lord trusted, worthy of her trust,
Proud but obedient, bountiful but just.

She praised her lucky stars, that in her place
She never found neglect, nor felt disgrace:
To do her duty was her soul's delight,
This her inferiors would to theirs excite,
This her superiors notice and requite;
To either class she gave the praises due,
And still more grateful as more favour'd grew.
Her lord and lady were of peerless worth,

In power unmatch'd, in glory and in birth.

There was Lord Robert! could she have her choice, From the world's masters he should have her voice; So kind and gracious in his noble ways,

It was a pleasure speaking in his praise:
And Lady Catherine,-O! a prince's pride
Might by one smile of hers be gratified;
And such the virtue of the noble race,
It reach'd the meanest servant in the place;

All, from the chief attendant on my lord
To the groom's helper, had her civil word;
From Miss Montregor, who the ladies taught,
To the rude lad who in the garden wrought;
From the first favourite to the meanest drudge,
Were no such women, Heaven should be her judge.

When William first the invitation read
It some displeasure in his spirit bred,

Not that one jealous thought the man possess'd,
He was by fondness, not by fear distress'd;
But when his Fanny to his mind convey'd
The growing treasures of the ancient maid,
The thirty years, come June, of service past,
Her lasting love, her life that would not last;
Her power! her place!

He answered, "You are right;

"But things appear in such a different light!"

Her parents blest her, and, as well became

Their love, advised her, that they might not blame; They said, "If she should earl or countess meet, "She should be humble, cautious, and discreet; "Humble, but not abased, remembering all “Are kindred sinners,—children of the fall; “That from the earth our being we receive, "And are all equal when the earth we leave.”

The mother's whisper cannot here have place, The words distinguish'd were but caps and lace, With something lying in a cedar chest,

And a shrewd smile that further thoughts express'd.

So went the pair; and William told at night
Of a reception gracious and polite;

He spake of galleries long and pictures tall,
The handsome parlours, the prodigious hall;
The busts, the statues, and the floors of stone,
The storied arras, and the vast saloon,

In which was placed an Indian chest and screen,
With figures such as he had never seen :
He told of these as men enraptured tell,
And gave to all their praise, and all was well.

Left by the lover, the desponding maid
Was of the matron's ridicule afraid;

But when she heard a welcome frank and kind,
The wonted firmness repossess'd her mind;
Pleased by the looks of love her aunt display'd,
Her fond professions, and her kind parade.
In her own room, and with her niece apart,
She gave up all the secrets of her heart;
And, grown familiar, bid her Fanny come,
Partake her cheer, and make herself at home.

Shut in that room, upon its cheerful board She laid the comforts of no vulgar hoard; Then press'd the damsel both with love and pride,For both she felt-and would not be denied. Grace she pronounced before and after meat, And blest her God that she could talk and eat; Then with new glee she sang her patron's praise"He had no paltry arts, no pimping ways; "She had the roast and boil'd of every day, "That sent the poor with grateful hearts away;

"And she was grateful-Come, my darling, think "Of them you love the best, and let us drink."

And now she drank the healths of those above, Her noble friends, whom she must ever love; But not together, not the young and old, But one by one, the number duly told; And told their merits too-there was not one Who had not said a gracious thing or done; Nor could she praise alone, but she would take A cheerful glass for every favourite's sake,— And all were favourites-till the rosy cheek Spoke for the tongue that nearly ceased to speak; But there she ended-felt the singing head, Then pray'd as custom will'd, and so to bed.

The morn was pleasant, and the ancient maid With her fair niece about the mansion stray'd: There was no room without th' appropriate tale Of blood and murder, female sprite or male; There was no picture that th' historic dame Pass'd by and gave not its peculiar fame; The births, the visits, weddings, burials, all That chanced for ages at the noble Hall. This was her first delight, her pride, her boast, She told of many an heiress, many a toast, Of Lady Ellen's flight, of Lord Orlando's ghost; The maid turn'd pale, and what should then ensue But wine and cake-the dame was frighten'd too.

The aunt and niece now walk'd about the grounds, And sometimes met the gentry in their rounds;

"Do let us turn!" the timid girl exclaim'd— "Turn!" said the aunt, "of what are you ashamed? "What is there frightful in such looks as those? "What is it, child, you fancy or suppose? "Look at Lord Robert, see if you can trace

"More than true honour in that handsome face!

you;

"That was a look, and was design'd for
"But what the wonder when the sight is new?"

A month had pass'd; "And when will Fanny

come?"

The lover ask'd, and found the parents dumb :
Silence so long they could not understand,
And this of one who wrote so neat a hand;
Their sister sure would send were aught amiss,
But youth is thoughtless—there is hope in this.

As time elapsed, their wonder changed to woe,
William would lose another day, and go;
Yet if she should be wilful and remain,
He had no power to take her home again :
But he would go !-He went and he return'd,—
And in his look the pair his tale discern'd:
Stupid in grief, it seem'd not that he knew
How he came home, or what he should pursue :
Fanny was gone!-her aunt was sick in bed,
Dying, she said—none cared if she were dead;
Her charge, his darling, was decoy'd, was fled!