The sound of rattling wheels was at the door;
"There's my dear father now,"—they heard no more,
The bridegroom glided like an arrow down,
And Gilbert ran, though something of a clown,
With his best step; and cheer'd with smiles and pray'rs
They bore old John in triumph up the stairs:
Poor Peggy, who her joy no more could check,
Clung like a dewy woodbine round his neck,
And all stood silent—Gilbert, off his guard,
And marvelling at virtue's rich reward,
Loos'd the one loop that held his coat before,
Down thumpt the broken crutch upon the floor!
They started, half alarm'd, scarce knowing why,
But through the glist'ning rapture of his eye
The bridegroom smil'd, then chid their simple fears,
And rous'd the blushing Peggy from her tears;
Gilbert put upon his Defense.
Around the uncle in a ring they came,
And mark'd his look of mingled pride and shame.
"Now honestly, good Gilbert, tell us true
What meant this cudgel? What was it to do?
I know your heart suspected me of wrong,
And that most true affection urg'd along
Your feelings and your wrath; you were beside
Till now the rightful guardian of the bride.
But why this cudgel?"—"Guardian! that's the case,
Or else to day you had not seen my face,
But John about the girl was so perplex'd,
And I, to tell the truth, so mortal vex'd,
That when he broke this crutch, and stampt and cried,
For John and Peggy, Sir, I could have died,
I know I could; for she was such a child,
So tractable, so sensible, and mild,
The plain Truth.
That if between you roguery had grown,
(Begging your pardon,) 'twould have been your own;
She would not hurt a fly.—So off I came
And had you only sought to blast her fame,
Been base enough to act as hundreds would,
And ruin a poor maid—because you could,
With this same cudgel, (you may smile or frown)
An' please you, Sir, I meant to knock you down."
A burst of laughter rang throughout the hall,
And Peggy's tongue, though overborne by all,
Pour'd its warm blessings, for, without control
The sweet unbridled transport of her soul
Was obviously seen, till Herbert's kiss
Stole, as it were, the eloquence of bliss.
Mirth and Reconciliation.
"Welcome, my friends; good Gilbert, here's my hand;
Eat, drink, or rest, they're all at your command:
And whatsoever pranks the rest may play,
Still you shall be the hero of to-day,
Doubts might torment, and blunders may have teaz'd,
But ale can cure them; let us all be pleas'd.
Thou, venerable man, let me defend
The father of my new dear bosom friend;
You broke your crutch, well, well, worse luck might be,
I'll be your crutch, John Meldrum, lean on me,
And when your lovely daughter shall complain,
Send Gilbert's wooden argument again.
If still you wonder that I take a wife
From the unpolish'd walks of humble life,
I'll tell you on what ground my love began,
And let the wise confute it if they can.
I saw a girl, with nature's untaught grace,
Turn from my gaze a most engaging face;
Herbert's Apology.
I saw her drop the tear, I knew full well
She felt for you much more than she could tell.
I found her understanding, bright as day,
Through all impediments still forc'd its way;
On that foundation shall my soul rely,
The rock of genuine humility.
Call'd as she is to act a nobler part,
To rule my houshold, and to share my heart,
I trust her prudence, confident to prove
Days of delight, and still unfading love;
For, while her inborn tenderness survives,
That heav'nly charm of mothers and of wives,
I'll look for joy:—Here come the neighbours all;
Broach the old barrel, feast them great and small,
For I'm determin'd while the sun's so bright,
That this shall be a wedding-day outright: