Much joy and comfort seem’d again in store
For Hollybrand, who once ’gan to deplore
Almost his own existence; but now he
Saw in the future some felicity,—
And where his thanks were due, there they were pour’d,
And there his orizons unvarying soar’d.
’Twas strange, but true—that George’s birth-day fell
Upon the very day he went to dwell
(With full possession) in that pretty lodge,
Which so long shelter’d poor old Andrew Hodge: