"How! Robin," George replied,

near

"and are we

My father's house? how strangely things appear!-Dear sir, though wanderers, we at last are

right:

"Let us proceed, and glad my father's sight:
"We shall at least be fairly lodged and fed,
"I can ensure a supper and a bed;

"Let us this night, as one of pleasure date,
"And of surprise: it is an act of Fate."
"Go on," the 'Squire in happy temper cried;
"I like such blunder! I approve such guide."

They ride, they halt, the Farmer comes in haste, Then tells his wife how much their house is graced; They bless the chance, they praise the lucky son, That caused the error Nay! it was not one; But their good fortune - cheerful grew the 'Squire, Who found dependents, flattery, wine, and fire; He heard the jack turn round; the busy dame Produced her damask; and with supper came The Daughter, dress'd with care, and full of maidenshame.

Surprised, our hero saw the air and dress,
And strove his admiration to express ;
Nay! felt it too for Harriot was, in truth,
A tall fair beauty in the bloom of youth;
And from the pleasure and surprise, a grace
Adorn'd the blooming damsel's form and face;
Then, too, such high respect and duty paid
By all such silent reverence in the maid;

Vent'ring with caution, yet with haste, a glance;
Loth to retire, yet trembling to advance,
Appear'd the nymph, and in her gentle guest
Stirr'd soft emotions till the hour of rest:
Sweet was his sleep, and in the morn again
He felt a mixture of delight and pain :
"How fair, how gentle," said the 'Squire,

meek,

"how

"And yet how sprightly, when disposed to speak! "Nature has bless'd her form, and Heaven her mind,

"But in her favours Fortune is unkind;

"Poor is the maid - nay, poor she cannot prove "Who is enrich'd with beauty, worth, and love."

The 'Squire arose, with no precise intent To go or stay—uncertain what he meant : He moved to part — they begg'd him first to dine; And who could then escape from Love and Wine? As came the night, more charming grew the Fair, And seem'd to watch him with a two-fold care: On the third morn, resolving not to stay, Though urged by Love, he bravely rode away.

Arrived at home, three pensive days he gave
To feelings fond and meditations grave;
Lovely she was, and, if he did not err,
As fond of him as his fond heart of her;

Still he delay'd, unable to decide,

Which was the master-passion, Love or Pride:

He sometimes wonder'd how his friend could make, And then exulted in, the night's mistake;

Had she but fortune," doubtless then," he cried, "Some happier man had won the wealthy bride."

While thus he hung in balance, now inclined To change his state, and then to change his mind,That careless George dropp'd idly on the ground A letter, which his crafty master found; The stupid youth confess'd his fault, and pray'd The generous 'Squire to spare a gentle maid; Of whom her tender mother, full of fears,

Had written much

tears,

"She caught her oft in

"For ever thinking on a youth above

"Her humble fortune - still she own'd not love;

"Nor can define, dear girl! the cherish'd pain, "But would rejoice to see the cause again : "That neighbouring youth, whom she endured before, "She now rejects, and will behold no more; "Raised by her passion, she no longer stoops "To her own equals, but she pines and droops, "Like to a lily, on whose sweets the sun

“Has withering gazed

- she saw and was undone:

"His wealth allured her not-nor was she moved

66

By his superior state, himself she loved;

"So mild, so good, so gracious, so genteel,

"But spare your sister, and her love conceal; "We must the fault forgive, since she the pain must feel."

"Fault !" said the 'Squire, "there's coarseness in

the mind

"That thus conceives of feelings so refined;

"Here end my doubts, nor blame yourself, my friend, "Fate made you careless-here my doubts have end."

The way is plain before us-there is now
The Lover's visit first, and then the vow,
Mutual and fond, the marriage-rite, the Bride
Brought to her home with all a husband's pride:
The 'Squire receives the prize his merits won,
And the glad parents leave the patron-son.

But in short time he saw, with much surprise, First gloom, then grief, and then resentment rise, From proud, commanding frowns, and anger-darting eyes:

"Is there in Harriot's humble mind this fire,

"This fierce impatience?" ask'd the puzzled 'Squire; "Has marriage changed her? or the mask she

wore

"Has she thrown by, and is herself once more?"

Hour after hour, when clouds on clouds appear, Dark and more dark, we know the tempest near; And thus the frowning brow, the restless form, And threat'ning glance, forerun domestic storm: So read the Husband, and, with troubled mind, Reveal'd his fears-" My Love, I hope you find "All here is pleasant—but I must confess

"You seem offended, or in some distress;

'Explain the grief you feel, and leave me to redress."

"Leave it to you?" replied the Nymph-"indeed!

"What! to the cause from whence the ills proceed? "Good Heaven! to take me from a place, where I "Had every comfort underneath the sky; “And then immure me in a gloomy place, “With the grim monsters of your ugly race, “That from their canvass staring, make me dread "Through the dark chambers, where they hang, to tread!

"No friend nor neighbour comes to give that joy “Which all things here must banish or destroy : "Where is the promised coach? the pleasant ride? “Oh! what a fortune has a Farmer's bride! "Your sordid pride has placed me just above "Your hired domestics—and what pays me? Love! "A selfish fondness I endure each hour,

"And share unwitness'd pomp, unenvied power; "I hear your folly, smile at your parade, "And see your favourite dishes duly made; "Then am I richly dress'd for you ť' admire, "Such is my duty and my Lord's desire; "Is this a life for youth, for health, for joy? "Are these my duties-this my base employ? "No! to my father's house will I repair, "And make your idle wealth support me there; "Was it your wish to have an humble bride "For bondage thankful? Curse upon your pride! "Was it a slave you wanted? You shall see, "That, if not happy, I at least am free:

“Well, sir! your answer: "-silent stood the' Squire, As looks a miser at his house on fire;