But I will think,” - he said, and shut the door.
Then the gay niece the seeming pauper press’d; -
“Turn, Nancy, turn, and view this form distress’d:
Akin to thine is this declining frame,
And this poor beggar claims an Uncle’s name.”
“Avaunt! begone!” the courteous maiden said,
“Thou vile impostor! Uncle Roger’s dead:
I hate thee, beast; thy look my spirit shocks;
Oh! that I saw thee starving in the stocks!”
“My gentle niece!” he said - and sought the wood,