He thinks of propping elms and clasping vines,
And in her weakness thinks her virtue shines;
On him not one of her desires is lost,
And he admires her for this care and cost.
But, when afflictions come, when beauty dies, 150
Or sorrows vex the heart, or danger tries—
When time of trouble brings the daily care,
And gives of pain as much as he can bear:
’Tis then he wants, if not the helping hand,
At least a soothing temper, meek and bland;