Tale VI.
Instead of ll. 1–4:
I’m now of Age and, if I be in fact
Heir to a Fortune, it is mine to act.
Alas! I am no Heir, with Grief I speak
Mine is the Fortune that is yet to seek. (D.)
l. 5 for And read Come. (D.)
after l. 6:
Yet, ere I venture on the bold design,
And one by fate, not Inclination, mine,
In a rough World ‘mid Friends and foes to dwell,
Let me to mine own Neighbours bid farewell! (D.)
after l. 84:
But feebly gives the Time; the very Shore,
Methinks, resounds not as it did before;
The Market dwindles, and each humble Stall
Confounds my Sight—there’s Littleness in all.
Yet is the Shore the same, the same the Sea,
And every Change I mourn is Change in me. (D.)
instead of ll. 97–100:
Would I could one, a single, friend behold
Who will to me the hidden facts unfold,
One who will kindly to the Stranger show
What much he wishes and yet fears to know! (D.)
instead of ll. 105–6:
For who looks backward to the Season fled,
The Man departed is the Mortal dead. (D.)
instead of l. 115–6:
My hungry Mind may by Attention fill,
And like the Ghost glide softly where I will. (D.)
l. 146: To solve my Doubts: how affable and kind! (D.)
l. 148: To all my Questions, and not few have I. (D.)
after l. 152:
Here, as along the sandy Shore we pace,
Shall I hear Tidings of the young and old
Of whom I took my leave—my Friend behold! (D.)