Has, in a different mode, a sovereign sway;
As tides the same attractive influence know,
In the least ebb and in their proudest flow;
The wise frugality, that does not give
A life to saving, but that saves to live;
Sparing, not pinching, mindful though not mean,
O'er all presiding, yet in nothing seen.
Recorded next a babe of love I trace!
Of many loves, the mother's fresh disgrace.—
Again, thou harlot! could not all thy pain,
All my reproof, thy wanton thoughts restrain?"
"Alas! your reverence, wanton thoughts, I grant.
Were once my motive, now the thoughts of want;
Women, like me, as ducks in a decoy,
Swim down a stream, and seem to swim in joy. Your sex pursue us, and our own disdain ; Return is dreadful, and escape is vain. Would men forsake us, and would women strive To help the fall'n, their virtue might revive." For rite of churching soon she made her way, In dread of scandal, should she miss the day:Two matrons came! with them she humbly knelt, Their action copied and their comforts felt, From that great pain and peril to be free, Though still in peril of that pain to be; Alas! what numbers, like this amorous dame, Are quick to censure, but are dead to shame! Twin-infants then appear; a girl, a boy, Th' o'erflowing cup of Gerard Ablett's joy: One had I named in every year that passed Since Gerard wed! and twins behold at last! Well pleased, the bridegroom smiled to hear " A vine Fruitful and spreading round the walls be thine, And branch-like be thine offspring!"-Gerard then Look'd joyful love, and softly said " Amen." Now of that vine he'd have no more increase, Those playful branches now disturb his peace: Them he beholds around his tables spread, But finds, the more the branch, the less the bread; And while they run his humble walls about, They keep the sunshine of good humour out. Cease, man, to grieve! thy master's lot survey, Whom wife and children, thou and thine obey; A farmer proud, beyond a farmer's pride, Of all around the envy or the guide; Who trots to market on a steed so fine, That when I meet him, I'm ashamed of mine; Whose board is high upheaved with generous fare, Which five stout sons and three tall daughters share. Cease, man, to grieve, and listen to his care. A few years fled, and all thy boys shall be Lords of a cot, and labourers like thee: Thy girls unportion'd neighb'ring youths shall lead Brides from my church, and thenceforth thou art freed:
But then thy master shall of cares complain,
Care after care, a long connected train;
His sons for farms shall ask a large supply,
For farmers' sons each gentle miss shall sigh;
Thy mistress, reasoning well of life's decay,
Shall ask a chaise, and hardly brook delay;
The smart young cornet, who with so much grace
Rode in the ranks and betted at the race,
While the vex'd parent rails at deed so rash,
Shall d-n his luck, and stretch his hand for cash.
Sad troubles, Gerard! now pertain to thee,
When thy rich master seems from trouble free;
But 'tis one fate at different times assign'd,
And thou shalt lose the cares that he must find.
"Ah!" quoth our village Grocer, rich and old,
"Would I might one such cause for care behold?"
To whom his Friend, "Mine greater bliss would be,
Would Heav'n take those my spouse assigns to me."
Aged were both, that Dawkins, Ditchem this,
Who much of marriage thought, and much amiss;
Both would delay, the one, till-riches gain'd,
The son he wish'd might be to honour train'd;
His Friend-lest fierce intruding heirs should come,
To waste his hoard and vex his quiet home.
Dawkins, a dealer once, on burthen'd back
Bore his whole substance in a pedlar's pack;
To dames discreet, the duties yet unpaid,
His stores of lace and hyson he convey'd:
When thus enriched, he chose at home to stop,
And fleece his neighbours in a new-built shop;
Then woo'd a spinster blithe, and hoped, when wed,
For love's fair favours and a fruitful bed.
Not so his Friend;-on widow fair and staid
He fix'd his eye, but he was much afraid;
Yet woo'd; while she his hair of silver hue
Demurely noticed, and her eye withdrew:
Doubtful he paused-"Ah! were I sure," he cried,
No craving children would my gains divide;
Fair as she is, I would my widow take,
And live more largely for my partner's sake."
With such their views some thoughtful years they pass'd, And hoping, dreading, they were bound at last. And what their fate? Observe them as they go, Comparing fear with fear and woe with woe. "Humphrey!" said Dawkins, "envy in my breast Sickens to see thee in thy children blest: They are thy joys, while I go grieving home To a sad spouse, and our eternal gloom: We look despondency; no infant near, To bless the eye or win the parent's ear; Our sudden heats and quarrels to allay, And soothe the petty sufferings of the day: Alike our want, yet both the want reprove; Where are, I cry, these pledges of our love?
When she, like Jacob's wife, makes fierce reply,
Yet fond-Oh! give me children, or I die :
And I return-still childless doom'd to live,
Like the vex'd patriarch-Are they mine to give
Ah! much I envy thee thy boys, who ride
On poplar branch, and canter at thy side;
And girls, whose cheeks thy chin's fierce fondness know,
And with fresh beauty at the contact glow."
"Oh! simple friend," said Ditchem, "wouldst thou gain A father's pleasure by a husband's pain?
Alas! what pleasure-when some vig'rous boy
Should swell thy pride, some rosy girl thy joy ;
Is it to doubt who grafted this sweet flower,
Or whence arose that spirit and that power?
"Four years I've wed; not one has passed in vain;
Behold the fifth! behold a babe again!
My wife's gay friends th' unwelcome imp admire,
And fill the room with gratulation dire:
While I in silence sate, revolving all
That influence ancient men, or that befall;
A gay pert guest-Heav'n knows his business-eame;
A glorious boy! he cried, and what the name?
Angry I growl'd,-My spirit cease to tease,
Name it yourselves,-Cain, Judas, if you please;
His father's give him,-should you that explore,
The devil's or yours:-I said. and sought the door.
My tender partner not a word or sigh
Gives to my wrath, nor to my speech reply;
But takes her comforts, triumphs in my pain,
And looks undaunted for a birth again."
Heirs thus denied afflict the pining heart,
And thus afforded, jealous pangs impart;
Let, therefore, none avoid, and none demand
These arrows number'd for the giant's hand.
Then with their infants three, the parents came,
And each assign'd-'twas all they had—a name;
Names of no mark er price; of them not one
Shall court our view on the sepulchral stone,
Or stop the clerk, th' engraven scrolls to spell,
Or keep the sexton from the sermon bell.
An orphan-girl succeeds: ere she was born
Her father died, her mother on that morn:
The pious mistress of the school sustains
Her parents' part, nor their affection feigns,
But pitying feels: with due respect and joy,
I trace the matron at her loved employ;
What time the striplings, wearied e'en with play,
Part at the closing of the summer's day,
And each by different path returns the well-known way-
Then I behold her at her cottage-door,
Frugal of light;-her Bible laid before,
When on her double duty she proceeds,
Of time as frugal-knitting as she reads:
Her idle neighbours, who approach to tell
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