Some future day when matters are arrang’d.”
This sudden salutation quickly chang’d
The countenance of George: he stood amaz’d:
Held down his head and on the fallow gaz’d.
(No doubt poor Hollybrand, as he appear’d,
Was much confounded; and perhaps he fear’d
More sorrows were in store for him: but no!
For Heaven was smiling on his honest brow.)
Then, in reply, with falt’ring accents spoke:
“I fear, dear sir, thou meanest but a joke.”