The Poetical Works of Anna Seward :: :: University of Virginia Library

Accept this tribute, H---d, as the pledge
Of my assured conviction that thy trust
Ne'er had been stain'd by those imputed faults
Which hurl'd thee from thy station, where yon towers,
Gothic and grand, arise, diffusing far
The blessings of their Lord. Where still subsists
State, by swoln pride unstain'd; home-residence,
Munificence, with ever-open gate;
Ready supply to want; protection kind,
As Chieftains to their clans in olden time
When tenantry was filial. Haply now,
V---, in thy domain is found, exempt
From feudal vassalage, each feudal good.

H---, 'twas lately thine those lofty halls
Watchful to guard;—those fair and ample lawns

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Flank'd with their woods luxuriant; numerous fields
Rich in the food of flocks and herds, that range
A second Canaan; or, of higher use,
Wave wide their bending gold in Ceres' smile.
Yes; to protect them e'en with Argus' eyes,
From menial riot, and the injurious arts,
Servile and peculant, was thine;—to spread,
With even hand, the delegated store
Of liberal charity. Then didst thou rouse
To daily action thy experienced skill;
Talents commensurate to highest trust;
Attachment warm, and all the energies
That brave the winter storms, and scorn the suns
Parching the plains at noon-tide; strenuous still
Well to discharge thy duty. Ah, too well,
For thine own safety, was that duty done!
Less faithful service ill could brook the glance
Piercing extortion's veil; nor would endure
Thy voice of just reproof, nor the firm hand
Curbing profusion. Then were form'd those wiles,
That, woven round thy late confiding lord,
And his ingenuous lady, by degrees,
Disgraced thee in their trust; themselves all truth,
Long deeming faithful those who very long
Had bask'd in their bright rays, while thou to them
Wert but a man of yesterday. And thus
Those smiles benign, that cheered thee through thy months

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Of arduous designation, faded grown,
Sunk, ere 'twas long, in that unpierc'd eclipse
Suspicion gendered, which the kindling heart
Suspected without cause, so seldom knows
Patient to suffer. All the Briton woke,
And, for an interval, Discretion lost
Remembrance of that maxim, which enjoins
The servant to submission, meek of eye,
Of voice unmurmuring, howsoe'er accused
Where real fault is none. So did'st hou rush
Into the snare which Falsehood had prepared
To banish whom it fear'd; make thee provoke
The fate which Goodness, by delay, perchance
Had learnt thou did'st not merit. Much I grieved
Talents so rare, and energies so prompt,
Should, through misdeeming, be forsaken found
By thy thrice gracious lord. The deep, dark work
Of evidence untrue, from Hate avow'd,
And from dissembled Friendship; while the last,
Assuming grief for errors well devised,
Won thy abused master to belief.
So sly Iago warp'd the noble Moor!
So Zanga pitied leonora's guilt!

'Twas a black cloud burst o'er thee. For a time
Thou stood'st like a young tree by lightning struck,
Struck, but not blasted. Yet thy leaves did droop
As they would wither. Soon the timely dew

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Of springing Hope revived them. In those hours
Mark'd I the starting tear, by manly pride
Dispersed or ere it fell; the quivering lip
And the clear conscience which rebuked thy nerves,
Steadying them quickly. Now the hour is come,
Ample of recompence; th' illustrious house
That nursed thy youth to virtue, and that gave,
Resign'd thee rather to more arduous trust,
Opes wide its sheltering gates, and reinstates
Him whom it deems incapable of fraud,
Or scarce less guilty negligence; since years
Of faithfulness unswerving, had inspired
Such confidence, as no delusive breath,
Calumniating through interest, could destroy.

Well knows thy generous young lord, that he,
Whom his loved father, wise and good, had train'd,
Trusted, and never found that trust betray'd,
Could not at once apostatize, and rush
On vices unhabitual, that must wrong
His noble patron, while they madly rik'd
Destruction to his own well-founded hopes.

And that young lord, heir of his father's spirit,
He is the day-spring which succeeds the storm
That shook his forest-tree; his are the dews
In whose kind balm its lately drooping leaves
Smile on the sun!—And he is haply serv'd

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By one of proved fidelity, whose heart
No sting of envy feels, no jealous fears
Illiberal; but who welcomes thy return
With all a brother's gladness. Upright men
Act ever thus, and love congenial worth.

That strain was gratulant; yet, ah! the thought
Is ever grievous, that his lord and thine,
In youth's high noon, and in the rising hours
Of life and fame, droops heart-struck o'er the tomb;
Turns the impassion'd, recollecting eye,
On a crush'd rose, and its soon-perish'd bud!

Lamented fate! that he should inly pine
In double deprivation; often steal
Beneath the shadowy languish of the moon,
Mourning his blasted hopes; a loved, lost wife,
Fair as the spring when May's pellucid morns
Crimson the orient; while no sparkling stream,
Fresh from the rock, in those soft hours of prime,
Was purer than her mind. She died!—yet still
All was not lost!—An infant pledge of love,
Sweet transcript of her mother's charms, a while
Smiled consolation!—but O! second pang
Scarcely less keen, when to the recent grave
Of his soul's treasure, he resign'd her child!

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Yet, surely happiness is still in store
For B---'s virtue, thus severely tried,
When time has balm'd his wounds! in store for him
Who loses not in grief's funereal gloom,
The care of others' welfare!—O! for him
May that coy flower of life blossom again,
Twined with no spray ill-omen'd!—So desires
Her heart, which oft has ponder'd and deplored
The lurking cypress in his bridal wreath.

Servant obliged, deserve his guardian love,
Who, with a youthful Daniel's judgement weighs
A charge improbable; who clears thy tame,
Who gives thee back to fair prosperity
And gratitude's superior bliss!—Be thine
To serve him long and truly! To that end
Oft pour thy secret soul to Heaven in prayer,
Whose aiding grace, never implored in vain,
When ask'd sincerely, shall direct thy ways;
Shine on the zenith of thy life; illume
Waning existence, and shall pour its light
Into the dreary chambers of the grave;
Confine of boundless bliss, or utter woe,
As faith and virtue, or as scorn and sin
Refine, or stain our being. Faithful thou
First to thy God, from him receive the power
Well to discharge thy debt to human worth.

The head steward at B---