They were not alone in grief,
WILLIAM sorrowed much at heart,
Knew not yet the saint's belief,
And most slowly came relief
To remove from him his smart.
Those who seek to curb the mind
Of their offspring in their youth,
Should show reason why they bind,
Clothed in language very kind,
Lest they tempt them from the truth.
Soon the youth began to feel
Galled by most unjust restraint,
And did oft in secret steal
To enquire of AMIE'S weal,
And to her would make complaint.
Then she told her father all.
Calm but firm was his reply:—
"WILLIAM shall no longer call;
Some great ill might him befall,
And he must himself deny."
This AMELIA saw was right
And informed the gentle boy.
Tears bedimmed his eyes that night
For the loss of his delight,
Which would all his peace destroy.
Said he now, "I will refrain
From my visits, AMIE dear,
If you'll true to me remain
Till I can consent obtain
From my father, whom I fear."
AMIE blushed, her word did pledge.
WILLIAM snatched a parting kiss
As he swiftly climbs the hedge,
Fairest dreams his mind engage
For he tastes of lovers' bliss.
Pass we o'er five tedious years.
Years which saw great changes come
To some thousands in all spheres,
Raised by hopes or sunk by fears,
Now alive, or in the tomb
WILLIAM had just come from school
Summoned to his father's bed
On an Autumn evening cool.
Now dread thoughts began to rule
Him who lay just like the dead.
Why that start, that vacant stare?
Does he know his son is by?
Guilty conscience who can bear?
Hope shut out or blank Despair,
When one's latter end is nigh?