From Sorrow's care-worn well.
"This house above our heads," said he;
"(Of late my uncle's property),
Has been the family estate
Longer than I can backward date.
The orphan of a brother, I
Resided here in days gone by,
His table and his heart to share.
Thus childhood passed without a care;
At college then his kindness placed,
And gladly my improvements traced.
When, as he left the choice to me,
A surgeon I resolved to be.
"The portrait of this worthy man
I'll sometime show, although I can
But briefly on his virtues dwell;
'Twould weary you were I to tell
Of all the kindness shown to me,
Since when an infant on his knee,
Beside my father's dying bed,
He promised to be mine instead.
"A tall and well-formed man was he,
Beloved for his humanity.
Yea, oft he would so gen'rous be
That some called it insanity.
Still happily together we,
Far from the empty vanity
Of public care and worldly strife,
Enjoyed a peaceful, quiet life,
Without a wish to share or mix
In gaiety or politics;
Which were, he said, so fraught with tricks,
Emoluments on self to fix.
It made his spirit boil to see
Their mercantile hypocrisy.
But though this may at times be true,
His must be a distorted view
Of legislative law; yet still,
How often proud Ambition will
Stoop down to acts remote from praise,
Himself above a foe to raise.
"If harsh at times my uncle might
By some be deemed, for what seemed right,
Whate'er the cost, he would uphold,
Though down his plans and wishes rolled
Like sand-banks 'fore the rushing tide,
When duty asked him to decide.
Residing in this lovely spot,
Our guests were few, yet cared we not,
For he, in calculations deep,
Would pass the day, and then would creep
Aloft at night to watch the stars
Revolving in their golden cars.
But though so much engaged was he,
To prove he ne'er neglected me,
He lessons gave in Latin, Greek,
And French, which he as well could speak,
And fast, as a Parisian guide,
For he had travelled far and wide.
Then sought he cheerful company,
More suitable than his could be,
Lest he should make a monk of me;
For sometimes he could sit for hours
A-pondering o'er the force and pow'rs
Of comets which had gone astray,
To find when they'd return that way.
The widow of a valued friend,
A helping hand would also lend
To guide me, where his skill might fail
(Her loss I much as his bewail).
Her cottage was in yonder glen,
Though much has altered been since then,
Where I would creep away from solid worth,
To enjoy the smiling cheerfulness and mirth
Of fair Rosina, then a beauteous child,
Light as the fawn, and oh! I fear as wild;
For we together o'er the hills would roam,
And through the woods, without a thought of home,
Until the clouds, robbed of their tinted light,
Told us the brightest day has still its night.
"Oh! those, indeed, were bright and joyous days,
And blissful visions mem'ry oft will raise
Of that blest time, ere Grief, with tyrant sway,
From out this breast drove Hope and Peace away.
"Years passed; we grew; I loved her more and more,
And pleased our relatives th' attachment saw;
But soon I left for Cam's far distant shore,
Exchanging love and peace for ancient lore.
Yet short my college life appears, for I
Had well been trained, and sought to try
To soar above the mass, and force proud Fame
Within her tablets to inscribe my name:
Not from ambition, but the wish to prove
Worthy my guardian's and Rosina's love.
How well can I remember now that day,
When, with the honours I had borne away,
I homeward flew, to lay them at her feet,
And hear her voice than highest praise more sweet.
But Disappointment mocked my eager gaze,
As anxiously (from out the post-drawn chaise)
I watched to see her graceful form appear
From out the cot, and, chilled with unknown fear,
My heart shrunk back and dared not hope that she
Would at my guardian's be awaiting me.
"My worthy uncle welcomed me with joy,
But even kindness sometimes can annoy,
For on that night he talked as much, I'm sure,
As he had done in any week before,
While I so often cast a glance around.
He asked, at length, if I much diff'rence found
In the old house?—this proved a hint to me,
And made me notice more his courtesy.
"'Rosina and her mother went,' said he,
'A week ago some distant friend to see:
They hope to see you, though, before you leave.
A