He came alone, in Misery, to our Care;
Then fled the Home and left the Misery there.
“Nay, Sister, be not thus to Anguish wrought;
I only try to think—what can be thought.
“All seemed so fair: he no Pretences made, 90
Was poor, and owned it—that could not persuade;
His Temper gay, his Mind without a Cloud, }
Of Honour and his Country justly proud. }
No Fear, no Mask—this all must be allow’d; }
And yet, he left us.—Sister, I must go,