"Who have no call to wander and transgress, "But very love of change and wantonness.

"I prattle idly, while your letters wait,

"And then my Lord has much that he would state, "All good to you-do clear that clouded face, "And with good looks your lucky lot embrace.

"Now, mind that none with her divide your heart, "For she would die ere lose the smallest part; "And I rejoice that all has gone so well, "For who th' effect of Johnson's rage can tell? "He had his fears when you began to meet, "But I assured him there was no deceit : "He is a man who kindness will requite, "But injured once, revenge is his delight; "And he would spend the best of his estates "To ruin, goods and body, them he hates; "While he is kind enough when he approves "A deed that's done, and serves the man he loves: "Come, read your letters-I must now be gone, "And think of matters that are coming on."

Henry was lost,-his brain confused, his soul
Dismay'd and sunk, his thoughts beyond control;

Borne on by terror, he foreboding read
Cecilia's letter! and his courage fled;
All was a gloomy, dark, and dreadful view,
He felt him guilty, but indignant too:-
And as he read, he felt the high disdain
Of injured men-" She may repent, in vain.”

Cecilia much had heard, and told him all That scandal taught " A servant at the Hall, "Or servant's daughter, in the kitchen bred, "Whose father would not with her mother wed, "Was now his choice! a blushing fool, the toy, "Or the attempted, both of man and boy; "More than suspected, but without the wit "Or the allurements for such creatures fit; "Not virtuous though unfeeling, cold as ice "And yet not chaste, the weeping fool of vice; Yielding, not tender; feeble, not refined;

66

"Her form insipid, and without a mind.

"Rival! she spurn'd the word; but let him stay, "Warn'd as he was! beyond the present day, "Whate'er his patron might object to this,

"The uncle-butler, or the weeping miss

"Let him from this one single day remain, "And then return! he would to her, in vain ; "There let him then abide, to earn, or crave "Food undeserved! and be with slaves a slave."

Had reason guided anger, govern'd zeal,
Or chosen words to make a lover feel,
She might have saved him—anger and abuse
Will but defiance and revenge produce.

"Unjust and cruel, insolent and proud!" He said, indignant, and he spoke aloud. "Butler! and servant! Gentlest of thy sex, "Thou wouldst not thus a man who loved thee vex; "Thou wouldst not thus to vile report give ear, "Nor thus enraged for fancied crimes appear; "I know not what, dear maid!-if thy soft smiles were here."

And then, that instant, there appear'd the maid,
By his sad looks in her approach dismay'd;
Such timid sweetness, and so wrong'd, did more
Than all her pleading tenderness before.

In that weak moment, when disdain and pride,
And fear and fondness, drew the man aside,

In this weak moment-" Wilt thou," he began,
"Be mine?" and joy o'er all her features ran;
"I will!" she softly whisper'd; but the roar
Of cannon would not strike his spirit more;
Ev'n as his lips the lawless contract seal'd
He felt that conscience lost her seven-fold shield,
And honour fled; but still he spoke of love,
And all was joy in the consenting dove.

That evening all in fond discourse was spent,
When the sad lover to his chamber went,

To think on what had past, to grieve and to repent:
Early he rose, and look'd with many a sigh
On the red light that fill'd the eastern sky;
Oft had he stood before, alert and gay,
To hail the glories of the new-born day :
But now dejected, languid, listless, low,
He saw the wind upon the water blow,
And the cold stream curl'd onward as the gale
From the pine-hill blew harshly down the dale;
On the right side the youth a wood survey'd,
With all its dark intensity of shade;
Where the rough wind alone was heard to move,
In this, the pause of nature and of love,

When now the young are rear'd, and when the old,
Lost to the tie, grow negligent and cold—
Far to the left he saw the huts of men,

Half hid in mist, that hung upon the fen;
Before him swallows, gathering for the sea,

Took their short flights, and twitter'd on the lea;
And near the bean-sheaf stood, the harvest done,
And slowly blacken'd in the sickly sun;

All these were sad in nature, or they took
Sadness from him, the likeness of his look,
And of his mind-he ponder'd for a while,
Then met his Fanny with a borrow'd smile.

Not much remain'd; for money and my Lord
Soon made the father of the youth accord;
His prudence half resisted, half obey'd,

And scorn kept still the guardians of the maid:
Cecilia never on the subject spoke,

She seem'd as one who from a dream awoke;
So all was peace, and soon the married pair
Fix'd with fair fortune in a mansion fair.

Five

years had pass'd, and what was Henry then? The most repining of repenting men;