Such pensive musings on him wrought
Till he his welcome pillow sought,
When, as absorb'd in sleep he lay,
Fancy did on his spirits play,
And in a strange and fearful dream
A form did on his vision beam,
With ghastly look as it were come
From the pale confines of the tomb.
He seem'd with one uplifted hand
Instant attention to command,
The other, as he solemn stood,
Folded around the flowing shroud;
And thus Quæ Genus seem'd to hear
The hollow voice that pierc'd his ear. |
"I am thy foster-parent's shade,
Who, in the earth, has long been laid,
And let his counsels be obey'd. | } |
'Tis Syntax who before thee stands,
And wait with awe his grave commands.
Fool as thou art, in thy misdoing
Art thou not hast'ning to thy ruin?
Am I call'd hither to accuse
Thy erring ways, and idle views?
Do I the wretched agent see
Of gambling fraud and usury?
And is it thus you form the plan
To vault into a Gentleman?
Syntax thy memory must own
As the sole parent thou hast known,
Whose mercy did the Foundling save
From menace of an infant's grave.
Better, perhaps, his fond regard
Had not thy sad condition spar'd,
If what of future life may last,
Wakes no contrition for the past.
Hear me, and tremble as I speak,
Though you may human laws escape;
The life you lead is not forgiven
By the offended laws of Heaven.
If such your doings, I can ne'er
Petition for your pardon there.
The present means which you possess,
If rightly us'd, will give success;
Nay, if you cease to roam abroad,
And turn from folly's wand'ring road;
If you keep all things right at home,
Much unexpected good may come.
Quæ Genus, to my words attend,
The errors of your life amend;
Resist the world's seducing power,
Or fear me at the midnight hour."
—Thus as he thought the vision spake,
The curtains round him seem'd to shake;
And frowning, as in angry mood,
At the bed's foot the figure stood,
When, in a misty gleam of light,
It seem'd to vanish from his sight. |
| |
He woke in such an agitation
His night-cap stream'd with perspiration;
He started with a fearful stare,
Not knowing if to pray or swear.
He did from further sleep refrain
As he perhaps should dream again,
And Sommerden's departed Rector
Might read another curtain-lecture.
But when as through the shutter's crack
He saw the beams of Phœbus break,
Up he arose, the bell he rung,
And, "Breakfast," issued from his tongue:
The loud command was soon obey'd,
And morning meal in order laid.
On sofa stretch'd, he munch'd the toast,
And sipp'd the Bohea, doubly dos'd
With cordial drops, we won't say gin,
Which he pour'd plentifully in, |
And did his trem'rous nerves redeem
By power of the reviving stream,
From the dire horrors of the dream. | } |
—His spirits thus with strength recruited,
He turn'd his mind to what was suited
To the condition chance had bound him,
And perils which might still surround him:
Of his late playmates what became
When power broke up the midnight game;
And if pursued by any danger,
To which as yet he was a stranger.
But soon he found, enquiry made,
The Bow-street spirits all were laid;
Nor was it to the party known,
By whom the mischief had been done.—
Thus, from all legal threat secure,
He felt determin'd to abjure
The course of life he had pursued,
Nor suffer knav'ry to delude
His conduct into any plan
That might disgrace a Gentleman;
The character which his fond thought
Had to a flatt'ring crisis brought,
When he might try, and not in vain,
The wish'd for honour to maintain.
Besides, in favour of his scheme,
He felt the warnings of the dream,
As he their meaning understood
Foreboded much of future good. |