Quæ Genus.
"Your pardon, Sir, I will proceed,
Nor stop till I've perform'd the deed.
—Thus, so far Fortune deck'd with smiles
The season which our youth beguiles,
And gave the hope of added measure
To gay delight and solid pleasure:
But while the merry song went round,
And to the tabor's lively sound,
The village did in cadence beat,
With all its many twinkling feet,
Pale Fate appear'd, in cypress wreath,
And call'd out for the Dance of Death:
When my dear friend, who gave the feast,
And cheer'd with smiles each happy guest,
Was borne away, I scarce knew why,
But I was told,—it was to die.
And soon, alas! I wond'ring saw
All govern'd by a man of law,
With whom she seldom converse held,
But when her private cares compell'd
Some petty, trifling, legal aid,
Which coolly she discharg'd and paid.
'Twas by this man's exulting side
I walk'd along and sobb'd and sigh'd
When she was carried to the bourne
From whence we mortals ne'er return.
—I was by all around approv'd,
And by the better neighbours lov'd,
While I in ev'ry eye could see
The pity that was felt for me.
By her death-bed he held the quill
That made him master of her will,
While a round sum was written there
To pay him for the tender care
Which he of her sweet boy would take,
For her's and her dear husband's sake.
Husband! whom this same man of law,
This forging rascal never saw:
Indeed by many it was thought
He put his name where he ought not.
It much surpriz'd each curious friend,
And quite astonish'd Doctor Bend,
Whose rev'rend titles should have been
Where the foul lawyer's name was seen.
Wrong was suspected, Counsel had,
But no objection could be made,
And by all forms of law allied,
The will was shap'd and testified:
The attorney to his duties swore,
So he became Executor.
'Tis true she left her all to me,
But here and there a legacy;
Though, such were this strange will's commands
Through Lawyer Gripe-all's grasping hands,
All was to pass and there remain
Till I the age of man attain;
And if I chanc'd to die before,—
The lawyer was to take the store.
All saw, or all believ'd the cheat,
But the law veil'd the base deceit,
And when the doctor came to see
How justice might be done to me,
On due reflection, thought it fit,
As things were order'd, to submit;
Told me, at present, to be quiet,
To seem content, nor breed a riot,
But when I truely crav'd a friend,
I knew the home of Dickey Bend;
Then with affection's warmth caress'd me,
And, with a parent's blessing, bless'd me.
"From that dear cottage now I mov'd,
Where I such tender fondness prov'd;
From a calm scene of taste refin'd,
And all that could improve the mind;
Where daily blessings were bestow'd
From all the humble neighbourhood;
Where heart-felt goodness was employ'd,
And social harmony enjoy'd;—
From these Quæ Genus was transferr'd
To where the daily curse was heard,
Where the law's promise was delay'd,
And money for injustice paid;
Or a loud, base, malignant joy,
Which the law's triumphs might employ;—
To an old house that stood alone,
With ivy and with moss o'ergrown,
And where the practiser of laws
Did his foul deeds 'mid bats and daws;
Nay, which, as fame reports, was worse,
The house was saddled with a curse,
That Gripe-all, in the law's despite,
Had robb'd some widow of her right,
And, by his cutting and his carving,
Had got the house—and left her starving.