Ye need her favours, ye shall find her not;
But, in her stead, fear-doubt--and agony!"
This was the bitter language of the heart;
But, while he spake, look, gesture, tone of voice,
Though discomposed and vehement, were such
As skill and graceful Nature might suggest
To a proficient of the tragic scene,
Standing before the multitude, beset
With sorrowful events; and we, who heard
And saw, were moved. Desirous to divert,
Or stem, the current of the speaker's thoughts,
We signified a wish to leave that place
Of stillness and close privacy, which seemed
A nook for self-examination framed,
Or for confession, in the sinner's need,
Hidden from all men's view. To our attempt
He yielded not; but, pointing to a slope
Of mossy turf, defended from the sun;
And, on that couch inviting us to rest,
Towards that tender-hearted man he turned
A serious eye, and thus his speech renewed :-
"You never saw, your eyes did never look
On the bright form of her whom once I loved;
Her silver voice was heard upon the earth,
A sound unknown to you; else, honoured friend!
Your heart had borne a pitiable share
Of what I suffered when I wept that loss,
And suffer now, not seldom, from the thought
That I remember, and can weep no more.
Stripped as I am of all the golden fruit
Of self-esteem; and by the cutting blasts
Of self-reproach familiarly assailed;
I would not yet be of such wintry bareness,
But that some leaf of your regard should hang
Upon my naked branches: lively thoughts
Give birth, full often, to unguarded words;
I grieve that, in your presence, from my tongue
Too much of frailty hath already dropped;
But that too much demands still more.
Reverend compatriot; and to you, kind sir
(Not to be deemed a stranger, as you come
Following the guidance of these welcome feet
To our secluded vale), it may be told,
That my demerits did not sue in vain
To one, on whose mild radiance many gazed
With hope, and all with pleasure. This fair bride-
In the devotedness of youthful love,
Preferring me to parents, and the choir
Of gay companions, to the natal roof,
And all known places and familiar sights
(Resigned with sadness gently weighing down
Her trembling expectations, but no more
Than did to her due honour, and to me
Yielded, that day, a confidence sublime
In what I had to build upon)-this bride,
Young, modest, meek, and beautiful, I led
To a low cottage in a sunny bay,
Where the salt sea innocuously breaks,
And the sea-breeze as innocently breaches,
On Devon's leafy shores; a sheltered hold,
In a soft clime encouraging the soil
To a luxuriant bounty! As our steps
Approach th' embowered abode-our chosen seat-
See, rooted in the earth, its kindly bed,
Th' unendangered myrtle, decked with flowers,
Before the threshold stands to welcome us!
While, in the flowering myrtle's neighbourhood,
Not overlooked, but courting no regard,
Those native plants, the holly and the yew,
Gave modest intimation to the mind
Of willingness with which they would unite
With the green myrtle, t' endear the hours
Of winter, and protect that pleasant place.
Wild were the walks upon those lonely downs,
Track leading into track, how marked, how worn
Into bright verdure, among fern and gorse,
Winding away its never-ending line
On their smooth surface, evidence was none:
But there lay open to our daily haunt,
A range of unappropriated earth,
Where youth's ambitious feet might move at large;
Whence, unmolested wanderers, we beheld
The shining giver of the day diffuse
His brightness o'er a tract of sea and land
Gay as our spirits, free as our desires,
As our enjoyments boundless. From these heights We dropped, at pleasure, into sylvan combs ; Where arbours of impenetrable shade,
And mossy seats, detained us side by side,
With hearts at ease, and knowledge in our hearts, 'That all the grove and all the day was ours.'
"But in due season nature interfered,
And called my partner to resign her share
In the pure freedom of that wedded life,
Enjoyed by us in common. To my hope,
To my heart's wish, my tender mate became
The thankful captive of maternal bonds,
And those wild paths were left to me alone;
There could I meditate on follies past,
And, like a weary voyager escaped
From risk and hardship, inwardly retrace
A course of vain delights and thoughtless guilt,
And self-indulgence-without shame pursued;
There, undisturbed, could think of, and could thank
Her-whose submissive spirit was to me
Rule and restraint-my guardian; shall I say
That earthly Providence whose guiding love
Within a port of rest had lodged me safe;
Safe from temptation, and from danger far?
Strains followed of acknowledgment addressed
To an Authority enthroned above
The reach of sight; from whom, as from their source,
Proceed all visible ministers of good
That walk the earth-Father of heaven and earth,
Father, and King, and Judge, adored and feared!
These acts of mind, and memory, and heart,
And spirit-interrupted and relieved
By observations, transient as the glance
Of flying sunbeams, or to th' outward form
Cleaving, with power inherent and intense
As the mute insect fixed upon the plant
On whose soft leaves it hangs, and from whose cup
Draws imperceptibly its nourishment,
Endeared my wanderings; and the mother's kiss,
And infant's smile, awaited my return.
"In privacy we dwelt-a wedded pair,
Companions daily, often all day long;
Not placed by fortune within easy reach
Of various intercourse, nor wishing aught
Beyond the allowance of our own fireside,
The twain within our happy cottage born
Inmates, and heirs of our united love;
Graced mutually by difference of
By the endearing names of nature bound,
And with no wider interval of time
Between their several births than served for ore
To establish something of a leader's sway
Yet left them joined by sympathy in age;
Equals in pleasure, fellows in pursuit.
On these two pillars rested as in air
Our solitude.
"It soothes me to perceive,
Your courtesy withholds not from my words
Attentive audience. But, oh! gentle friends,"
As times of quiet and unbroken peace,
Though, for a nation times of blessedness,
Give back faint echoes from th' historian's page;
So, in the imperfect sounds of this discourse,
Depressed I hear, how faithless is the voice
Which those most blissful days reverberate.
What special record can, or need be given
To rules and habits, whereby much was done
But all within the sphere of little things,
Of humble, though to us, important cares,
And precious interests? Smoothly did our life
Advance, not swerving from the path prescribed;
Iler annual, her diurnal round alike
Maintained with faithful care. And you divine
The worst effects which our condition saw,
If you imagine changes slowly wrought,
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