The renew'd Journey.
Once more he'd go; full resolute awhile,
But heard his native Bells on every stile;
The sound recall'd him with a pow'rful charm,
The Heath wide open'd, and the day was warm;
There, where a bed of tempting green he found,
Increasing anguish weigh'd him to the ground;
His well-grown limbs the scatter'd Daisies press'd,
While his clinch'd hand fell heavy on his breast.
'Why do I go in cruel sport to say,
"I love thee, Jane; appoint the happy day?"
'Why seek her sweet ingenuous reply,
'Then grasp her hand and proffer—poverty?
'Why, if I love her and adore her name,
'Why act like time and sickness on her frame?
'Why should my scanty pittance nip her prime,
'And chace away the Rose before its time?
'I'm young, 'tis true; the world beholds me free;
'Labour ne'er show'd a frightful face to me;
Love of Prudence.
'Nature's first wants hard labour should supply;
'But should it fail, 'twill be too late to fly.
'Some Summers hence, if nought our loves annoy,
'The image of my Jane may lisp her joy;
'Or, blooming boys with imitative swing
'May mock my arm, and make the Anvil ring;
'Then if in rags.—But, O my heart, forbear,—
'I love the Girl, and why should I despair?
'And that I love her all the village knows;
'Oft from my pain the mirth of others flows;
'As when a neighbour's Steed with glancing eye
'Saw his par'd hoof supported on my thigh:
'Jane pass'd that instant; mischief came of course;
'I drove the nail awry and lam'd the Horse;
'The poor beast limp'd: I bore a Master's frown,
'A thousand times I wish'd the wound my own.
'When to these tangling thoughts I've been resign'd,
'Fury or languor has possess'd my mind,
Recollections.
'All eyes have stared, I've blown a blast so strong;
'Forgot to smite at all, or smote too long.
'If at the Ale-house door, with careless glee
'One drinks to Jane, and darts a look on me;
'I feel that blush which her dear name will bring,
'I feel:—but, guilty Love, 'tis not thy sting!
'Yet what are jeers? the bubbles of an hour;
'Jane knows what Love can do, and feels its pow'r;
'In her mild eye fair Truth her meaning tells;
'Tis not in looks like her's that falsehood dwells.
'As water shed upon a dusty way
'I've seen midst downward pebbles devious stray;
'If kindred drops an adverse channel keep,
'The crystal friends toward each other creep;
'Near, and still nearer, rolls each little tide,
'Th' expanding mirror swells on either side:
'They touch—'tis done—receding bound'ries fly,
'An instantaneous union strikes the eye:
The Interview.
'So 'tis with us: for Jane would be my bride;
'Shall coward fears then turn the bliss aside?'
While thus he spoke he heard a gentle sound,
That seem'd a jarring footstep on the ground:
Asham'd of grief, he bade his eyes unclose,
And shook with agitation as he rose;
All unprepared the sweet surprise to bear;
His heart beat high, for Jane herself was there.—
Flusht was her cheek; she seem'd the full-blown flower,
For warmth gave loveliness a double power;
Round her fair brow the deep confusion ran,
A waving handkerchief became her fan,
Her lips, where dwelt sweet love and smiling ease,
Puff'd gently back the warm assailing breeze.
'I've travell'd all these weary miles with pain,
'To see my native village once again;
'And show my true regard for neighbour Hind;
'Not like you, Walter, she was always kind.'
Resentment and Tenderness.
'Twas thus, each soft actuation laid aside,
She buoy'd her spirits up with maiden pride;
Disclaimed her love, e'en while she felt the sting;
'What, come for Walter's sake!' 'Twas no such thing.
But when astonishment his tongue releas'd,
Pride's usurpation in an instant ceas'd:
By force he caught her hand as passing by,
And gaz'd upon her half averted eye;
His heart's distraction, and his boding fears
She heard, and answer'd with a flood of tears;
Precious relief; sure friends that forward press
To tell the mind's unspeakable distress.
Ye Youths, whom crimson'd health and genuine fire
Bear joyous on the wings of young desire,
Ye, who still bow to Love's almighty sway,
What could true passion, what could Walter say?
Age, tell me true, nor shake your locks in vain,
Tread back your paths, and be in love again;