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"The father dead, the son has found a wife,
And lives a formal, proud, unsocial life;—
The lands are now enclosed; the tenants all,
Save at a rent-day, never see the hall;
No lass is suffer'd o'er the walks to come,
And, if there's love, they have it all at home.
"Oh! could the ghost of our good 'squire arise,
And see such change, would it believe its eyes?
Would it not glide about from place to place,