The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe with his letters and journals, and his life, by his son. In eight volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe |  |
Sir Owen Dale his fortieth year had seen,
With temper placid, and with mind serene;
Rich; early married to an easy wife,
They led in comfort a domestic life:
He took of his affairs a prudent care,
And was by early habit led to spare;
Not as a miser, but in pure good taste,
That scorn'd the idle wantonness of waste.
With temper placid, and with mind serene;
Rich; early married to an easy wife,
They led in comfort a domestic life:
He took of his affairs a prudent care,
And was by early habit led to spare;
Not as a miser, but in pure good taste,
That scorn'd the idle wantonness of waste.
In fact, the lessons he from prudence took
Were written in his mind, as in a book:
There what to do he read, and what to shun;
And all commanded was with promptness done:
He seem'd without a passion to proceed,
Or one whose passions no correction need;
Yet some believed those passions only slept,
And were in bounds by early habits kept:
Curb'd as they were by fetters worn so long,
There were who judged them a rebellious throng.
Were written in his mind, as in a book:
There what to do he read, and what to shun;
And all commanded was with promptness done:
He seem'd without a passion to proceed,
Or one whose passions no correction need;
Yet some believed those passions only slept,
And were in bounds by early habits kept:
Curb'd as they were by fetters worn so long,
There were who judged them a rebellious throng.
9
To these he stood, not as a hero true,
Who fought his foes, and in the combat slew,
But one who all those foes, when sleeping, found,
And, unresisted, at his pleasure bound.
Who fought his foes, and in the combat slew,
But one who all those foes, when sleeping, found,
And, unresisted, at his pleasure bound.
We thought—for I was one—that we espied
Some indications strong of dormant pride;
It was his wish in peace with all to live;
And he could pardon, but could not forgive:
Nay, there were times when stern defiance shook
The moral man, and threaten'd in his look.
Some indications strong of dormant pride;
It was his wish in peace with all to live;
And he could pardon, but could not forgive:
Nay, there were times when stern defiance shook
The moral man, and threaten'd in his look.
Should these fierce passions—so we reason'd—break
Their long-worn chain, what ravage will they make!
In vain will prudence then contend with pride,
And reason vainly bid revenge subside;
Anger will not to meek persuasion bend,
Nor to the pleas of hope or fear attend:
What curb shall, then, in their disorder'd race,
Check the wild passions? what the calm replace?
Virtue shall strive in vain; and has he help in grace?
While yet the wife with pure discretion ruled,
The man was guided, and the mind was school'd;
But then that mind unaided ran to waste:
He had some learning, but he wanted taste;
Placid, not pleased—contented, not employ'd,—
He neither time improved, nor life enjoy'd.
Their long-worn chain, what ravage will they make!
In vain will prudence then contend with pride,
And reason vainly bid revenge subside;
Anger will not to meek persuasion bend,
Nor to the pleas of hope or fear attend:
What curb shall, then, in their disorder'd race,
Check the wild passions? what the calm replace?
Virtue shall strive in vain; and has he help in grace?
While yet the wife with pure discretion ruled,
The man was guided, and the mind was school'd;
But then that mind unaided ran to waste:
He had some learning, but he wanted taste;
Placid, not pleased—contented, not employ'd,—
He neither time improved, nor life enjoy'd.
That wife expired, and great the loss sustain'd,
Though much distress he neither felt nor feign'd;
He loved not warmly; but the sudden stroke
Deeply and strongly on his habits broke.
He had no child to soothe him, and his farm,
His sports, his speculations, lost their charm;
Then would he read and travel, would frequent
Life's busy scenes, and forth Sir Owen went:
The mind, that now was free, unfix'd, uncheck'd,
Read and observed with wonderful effect;
And still the more he gain'd, the more he long'd
To pay that mind his negligence had wrong'd;
He felt his pleasures rise as he improved;
And, first enduring, then the labour loved.
Though much distress he neither felt nor feign'd;
10
Deeply and strongly on his habits broke.
He had no child to soothe him, and his farm,
His sports, his speculations, lost their charm;
Then would he read and travel, would frequent
Life's busy scenes, and forth Sir Owen went:
The mind, that now was free, unfix'd, uncheck'd,
Read and observed with wonderful effect;
And still the more he gain'd, the more he long'd
To pay that mind his negligence had wrong'd;
He felt his pleasures rise as he improved;
And, first enduring, then the labour loved.
But, by the light let in, Sir Owen found
Some of those passions had their chain unbound;
As from a trance they rose to act their part,
And seize, as due to them, a feeling heart.
His very person now appear'd refined,
And took some graces from th' improving mind:
He grew polite without a fix'd intent,
And to the world a willing pupil went.
Restore him twenty years,—restore him ten,—
And bright had been his earthly prospect then;
But much refinement, when it late arrives,
May be the grace, not comfort, of our lives.
Some of those passions had their chain unbound;
As from a trance they rose to act their part,
And seize, as due to them, a feeling heart.
His very person now appear'd refined,
And took some graces from th' improving mind:
He grew polite without a fix'd intent,
And to the world a willing pupil went.
Restore him twenty years,—restore him ten,—
And bright had been his earthly prospect then;
But much refinement, when it late arrives,
May be the grace, not comfort, of our lives.
Now had Sir Owen feeling; things of late
Indifferent, he began to love or hate;
What once could neither good nor ill impart
Now pleased the senses, and now touch'd the heart;
Prospects and pictures struck th' awaken'd sight,
And each new object gave a new delight.
He, like th' imperfect creature who had shaped
A shroud to hide him, had at length escaped;
Changed from his grub-like state, to crawl no more,
But a wing'd being, pleased and form'd to soar.
Indifferent, he began to love or hate;
What once could neither good nor ill impart
Now pleased the senses, and now touch'd the heart;
11
And each new object gave a new delight.
He, like th' imperfect creature who had shaped
A shroud to hide him, had at length escaped;
Changed from his grub-like state, to crawl no more,
But a wing'd being, pleased and form'd to soar.
Now, said his friends, while thus his views improve,
And his mind softens, what if he should love?
True; life with him has yet serene appear'd,
And therefore love in wisdom should be fear'd:
Forty and five his years, and then to sigh
For beauty's favour!—Son of frailty, fly!
And his mind softens, what if he should love?
True; life with him has yet serene appear'd,
And therefore love in wisdom should be fear'd:
Forty and five his years, and then to sigh
For beauty's favour!—Son of frailty, fly!
Alas! he loved; it was our fear, but ours,
His friends alone. He doubted not his pow'rs
To win the prize, or to repel the charm,
To gain the battle, or escape the harm;
For he had never yet resistance proved,
Nor fear'd that friends should say—‘Alas! he loved.’
His friends alone. He doubted not his pow'rs
To win the prize, or to repel the charm,
To gain the battle, or escape the harm;
For he had never yet resistance proved,
Nor fear'd that friends should say—‘Alas! he loved.’
Younger by twenty years, Camilla found
Her face unrivall'd when she smiled or frown'd:
Of all approved; in manner, form, and air,
Made to attract; gay, elegant, and fair:
She had, in beauty's aid, a fair pretence
To cultivated, strong intelligence;
For she a clear and ready mind had fed
With wholesome food; unhurt by what she read:
She loved to please; but, like her dangerous sex,
To please the more whom she design'd to vex.
Her face unrivall'd when she smiled or frown'd:
Of all approved; in manner, form, and air,
Made to attract; gay, elegant, and fair:
She had, in beauty's aid, a fair pretence
To cultivated, strong intelligence;
For she a clear and ready mind had fed
With wholesome food; unhurt by what she read:
She loved to please; but, like her dangerous sex,
To please the more whom she design'd to vex.
12
This heard Sir Owen, and he saw it true;
It promised pleasure, promised danger too;
But this he knew not then, or slighted if he knew.
Yet he delay'd, and would by trials prove
That he was safe; would see the signs of love;
Would not address her while a fear remain'd;
But win his way, assured of what he gain'd.
It promised pleasure, promised danger too;
But this he knew not then, or slighted if he knew.
Yet he delay'd, and would by trials prove
That he was safe; would see the signs of love;
Would not address her while a fear remain'd;
But win his way, assured of what he gain'd.
This saw the lady, not displeased to find
A man at once so cautious and so blind:
She saw his hopes that she would kindly show
Proofs of her passion—then she his should know.
“So, when my heart is bleeding in his sight,
“His love acknowledged will the pains requite;
“It is, when conquer'd, he the heart regards;
“Well, good Sir Owen; let us play our cards.”
A man at once so cautious and so blind:
She saw his hopes that she would kindly show
Proofs of her passion—then she his should know.
“So, when my heart is bleeding in his sight,
“His love acknowledged will the pains requite;
“It is, when conquer'd, he the heart regards;
“Well, good Sir Owen; let us play our cards.”
He spake her praise in terms that love affords,
By words select, and looks surpassing words:
Kindly she listen'd, and in turn essay'd
To pay th' applauses—and she amply paid;
A beauty flattering!—beauteous flatterers feel
The ill you cause, when thus in praise you deal;
For surely he is more than man, or less,
When praised by lips that he would die to press,
And yet his senses undisturb'd can keep,
Can calmly reason, or can soundly sleep.
By words select, and looks surpassing words:
Kindly she listen'd, and in turn essay'd
To pay th' applauses—and she amply paid;
A beauty flattering!—beauteous flatterers feel
The ill you cause, when thus in praise you deal;
For surely he is more than man, or less,
When praised by lips that he would die to press,
And yet his senses undisturb'd can keep,
Can calmly reason, or can soundly sleep.
Not so Sir Owen; him Camilla praised,
And lofty hopes and strong emotions raised;
This had alone the strength of man subdued;
But this enchantress various arts pursued.
Let others pray for music—others pray'd
In vain:—Sir Owen ask'd, and was obey'd;
Let others, walking, sue that arm to take,
Unmoved she kept it for Sir Owen's sake;
Each small request she granted, and though small,
He thought them pledges of her granting all.
And lofty hopes and strong emotions raised;
This had alone the strength of man subdued;
But this enchantress various arts pursued.
13
In vain:—Sir Owen ask'd, and was obey'd;
Let others, walking, sue that arm to take,
Unmoved she kept it for Sir Owen's sake;
Each small request she granted, and though small,
He thought them pledges of her granting all.
And now the lover, casting doubt aside,
Urged the fond suit that—could not be denied;
Joy more than reverence moved him when he said,
“Now banish all my fears, angelic maid!”
And as she paused for words, he gaily cried,
“I must not, cannot, will not be denied.”
Ah! good Sir Owen, think not favours, such
As artful maids allow, amount to much;
The sweet, small, poison'd baits, that take the eye
And win the soul of all who venture nigh.
Urged the fond suit that—could not be denied;
Joy more than reverence moved him when he said,
“Now banish all my fears, angelic maid!”
And as she paused for words, he gaily cried,
“I must not, cannot, will not be denied.”
Ah! good Sir Owen, think not favours, such
As artful maids allow, amount to much;
The sweet, small, poison'd baits, that take the eye
And win the soul of all who venture nigh.
Camilla listen'd, paused, and look'd surprise,
Fair witch! exulting in her witcheries!
She turn'd aside her face, withdrew her hand,
And softly said, “Sir, let me understand.”
Fair witch! exulting in her witcheries!
She turn'd aside her face, withdrew her hand,
And softly said, “Sir, let me understand.”
“Nay, my dear lady! what can words explain,
“If all my looks and actions plead in vain?
“I love”—She show'd a cool respectful air,
And he began to falter in his prayer,
Yet urged her kindness—Kindness she confess'd,
It was esteem, she felt it, and express'd,
For her dear father's friend; and was it right
That friend of his—she thought of hers—to slight?
“If all my looks and actions plead in vain?
“I love”—She show'd a cool respectful air,
And he began to falter in his prayer,
Yet urged her kindness—Kindness she confess'd,
It was esteem, she felt it, and express'd,
For her dear father's friend; and was it right
That friend of his—she thought of hers—to slight?
14
This to the wond'ring lover strange and new,
And false appear'd—he would not think it true:
Still he pursued the lovely prize, and still
Heard the cold words, design'd his hopes to kill;
He felt dismay'd, as he perceived success
Had inverse ratio, more obtaining less;
And still she grew more cool in her replies,
And talk'd of age and improprieties.
And false appear'd—he would not think it true:
Still he pursued the lovely prize, and still
Heard the cold words, design'd his hopes to kill;
He felt dismay'd, as he perceived success
Had inverse ratio, more obtaining less;
And still she grew more cool in her replies,
And talk'd of age and improprieties.
Then to his friends, although it hurt his pride,
And to the lady's, he for aid applied;
Who kindly woo'd for him, but strongly were denied.
And to the lady's, he for aid applied;
Who kindly woo'd for him, but strongly were denied.
And now it was those fiercer passions rose,
Urged by his love, to murder his repose;
Shame shook his soul to be deceived so long,
And fierce Revenge for such contemptuous wrong;
Jealous he grew, and Jealousy supplied
His mind with rage, unsoothed, unsatisfied;
And grievous were the pangs of deeply wounded Pride.
His generous soul had not the grief sustain'd,
Had he not thought, ‘Revenge may be obtain'd.’
Urged by his love, to murder his repose;
Shame shook his soul to be deceived so long,
And fierce Revenge for such contemptuous wrong;
Jealous he grew, and Jealousy supplied
His mind with rage, unsoothed, unsatisfied;
And grievous were the pangs of deeply wounded Pride.
His generous soul had not the grief sustain'd,
Had he not thought, ‘Revenge may be obtain'd.’
Camilla grieved, but grief was now to late;
She hush'd her fears, and left th' event to fate.
She hush'd her fears, and left th' event to fate.
15
Four years elapsed, nor knew Sir Owen yet
How to repay the meditated debt;
The lovely foe was in her thirtieth year,
Nor saw the favourite of the heart appear;
'Tis sure less sprightly the fair nymph became,
And spoke of former levities with shame:
But this, alas! was not in time confess'd,
And vengeance waited in Sir Owen's breast.
How to repay the meditated debt;
The lovely foe was in her thirtieth year,
Nor saw the favourite of the heart appear;
'Tis sure less sprightly the fair nymph became,
And spoke of former levities with shame:
But this, alas! was not in time confess'd,
And vengeance waited in Sir Owen's breast.
But now the time arrives—the maid must feel
And grieve for wounds that she refused to heal.
Sir Owen, childless, in his love had rear'd
A sister's son, and now the Youth appear'd,
In all the pride of manhood, and, beside,
With all a soldier's spirit and his pride:
Valiant and poor, with all that arms bestow,
And wants that captains in their quarters know;
Yet to his uncle's generous heart was due
The praise, that wants of any kind were few.
And grieve for wounds that she refused to heal.
Sir Owen, childless, in his love had rear'd
A sister's son, and now the Youth appear'd,
In all the pride of manhood, and, beside,
With all a soldier's spirit and his pride:
Valiant and poor, with all that arms bestow,
And wants that captains in their quarters know;
Yet to his uncle's generous heart was due
The praise, that wants of any kind were few.
When he appear'd, Sir Owen felt a joy
Unknown before, his vengeance bless'd the boy—
“To him I dare confide a cause so just;
“Love him she may—Oh! could I say, she must.”
Unknown before, his vengeance bless'd the boy—
“To him I dare confide a cause so just;
“Love him she may—Oh! could I say, she must.”
Thus fix'd, he more than usual kindness show'd,
Nor let the Captain name the debt he owed;
But when he spoke of gratitude, exclaim'd,
“My dearest Morden! make me not ashamed;
“Each for a friend should do the best he can,
“The most obliged is the obliging man;
“But if you wish to give as well as take,
“You may a debtor of your uncle make.”
Nor let the Captain name the debt he owed;
But when he spoke of gratitude, exclaim'd,
“My dearest Morden! make me not ashamed;
“Each for a friend should do the best he can,
“The most obliged is the obliging man;
16
“You may a debtor of your uncle make.”
Morden was earnest in his wish to know
How he could best his grateful spirit show.
How he could best his grateful spirit show.
Now the third dinner had their powers renew'd,
And fruit and wine upon the table stood;
The fire brought comfort, and the warmth it lent
A cheerful spirit to the feelings sent,
When thus the Uncle—“Morden, I depend
“On you for aid—assist me as a friend:
“Full well I know that you would much forego,
“And much endure, to wreak me on my foe.
“Charles, I am wrong'd, insulted—nay, be still,
“Nor look so fiercely,—there are none to kill.
And fruit and wine upon the table stood;
The fire brought comfort, and the warmth it lent
A cheerful spirit to the feelings sent,
When thus the Uncle—“Morden, I depend
“On you for aid—assist me as a friend:
“Full well I know that you would much forego,
“And much endure, to wreak me on my foe.
“Charles, I am wrong'd, insulted—nay, be still,
“Nor look so fiercely,—there are none to kill.
“I loved a lady, somewhat late in life,
“Perhaps too late, and would have made a wife;
“Nay, she consented; for consent I call
“The mark'd distinction that was seen of all,
“And long was seen; but when she knew my pain,
“Saw my first wish her favour to obtain,
“And ask her hand—no sooner was it ask'd,
“Than she, the lovely Jezebel unmask'd;
“And by her haughty airs, and scornful pride,
“My peace was wounded—nay, my reason tried;
“I felt despised and fallen when we met,
“And she, O folly! looks too lovely yet;
“Yet love no longer in my bosom glows,
“But my heart warms at the revenge it owes.
“Perhaps too late, and would have made a wife;
“Nay, she consented; for consent I call
“The mark'd distinction that was seen of all,
“And long was seen; but when she knew my pain,
“Saw my first wish her favour to obtain,
“And ask her hand—no sooner was it ask'd,
“Than she, the lovely Jezebel unmask'd;
“And by her haughty airs, and scornful pride,
“My peace was wounded—nay, my reason tried;
“I felt despised and fallen when we met,
“And she, O folly! looks too lovely yet;
“Yet love no longer in my bosom glows,
“But my heart warms at the revenge it owes.
17
“Oh! that I saw her with her soul on fire,
“Desperate from love, and sickening with desire;
“While all beheld her just, unpitied pain,
“Grown in neglect, and sharpen'd by disdain!
“Let her be jealous of each maid she sees,
“Striving by every fruitless art to please,
“And when she fondly looks, let looks and fondness tease!
“So, lost on passion's never resting sea,
“Hopeless and helpless, let her think of me!
“Charles, thou art handsome, nor canst want the art
“To warm a cold or win a wanton heart:
“Be my avenger”—
“Desperate from love, and sickening with desire;
“While all beheld her just, unpitied pain,
“Grown in neglect, and sharpen'd by disdain!
“Let her be jealous of each maid she sees,
“Striving by every fruitless art to please,
“And when she fondly looks, let looks and fondness tease!
“So, lost on passion's never resting sea,
“Hopeless and helpless, let her think of me!
“Charles, thou art handsome, nor canst want the art
“To warm a cold or win a wanton heart:
“Be my avenger”—
Charles, with smile, not vain,
Nor quite unmix'd with pity and disdain,
Sat mute in wonder; but he sat not long
Without reflection:—Was Sir Owen wrong?
“So must I think; for can I judge it right
“To treat a lovely lady with despite?
“Because she play'd too roughly with the love
“Of a fond man whom she could not approve,
“And yet to vex him for the love he bore
“Is cause enough for his revenge, and more.
“But, thoughts, to council!—Do I wear a charm
“That will preserve my citadel from harm?
“Like the good knight, I have a heart that feels
“The wounds that beauty makes and kindness heals:
“Beauty she has, it seems, but is not kind—
“So found Sir Owen, and so I may find.
“Yet why, O heart of tinder, why afraid?
“Comes so much danger from so fair a maid?
“Wilt thou be made a voluntary prize
“To the fierce firing of two wicked eyes?
“Think her a foe, and on the danger rush,
“Nor let thy kindred for a coward blush.
Nor quite unmix'd with pity and disdain,
Sat mute in wonder; but he sat not long
Without reflection:—Was Sir Owen wrong?
“So must I think; for can I judge it right
“To treat a lovely lady with despite?
“Because she play'd too roughly with the love
“Of a fond man whom she could not approve,
“And yet to vex him for the love he bore
“Is cause enough for his revenge, and more.
“But, thoughts, to council!—Do I wear a charm
“That will preserve my citadel from harm?
“Like the good knight, I have a heart that feels
“The wounds that beauty makes and kindness heals:
“Beauty she has, it seems, but is not kind—
“So found Sir Owen, and so I may find.
18
“Comes so much danger from so fair a maid?
“Wilt thou be made a voluntary prize
“To the fierce firing of two wicked eyes?
“Think her a foe, and on the danger rush,
“Nor let thy kindred for a coward blush.
“But how if this fair creature should incline
“To think too highly of this love of mine,
“And, taking all my counterfeit address
“For sterling passion, should the like profess?
“Nay, this is folly; or if I perceive
“Aught of the kind, I can but take my leave;
“And if the heart should feel a little sore,
“Contempt and anger will its ease restore.
“To think too highly of this love of mine,
“And, taking all my counterfeit address
“For sterling passion, should the like profess?
“Nay, this is folly; or if I perceive
“Aught of the kind, I can but take my leave;
“And if the heart should feel a little sore,
“Contempt and anger will its ease restore.
“Then, too, to his all-bounteous hand I owe
“All I possess, and almost all I know;
“And shall I for my friend no hazard run,
“Who seeks no more for all his love has done?
“'T is but to meet and bow, to talk and smile,
“To act a part, and put on love awhile:
“And the good knight shall see, this trial made,
“That I have just his talents to persuade;
“For why the lady should her heart bestow
“On me, or I of her enamour'd grow,
“There's none can reason give, there's none can danger show.”
“All I possess, and almost all I know;
“And shall I for my friend no hazard run,
“Who seeks no more for all his love has done?
“'T is but to meet and bow, to talk and smile,
“To act a part, and put on love awhile:
“And the good knight shall see, this trial made,
“That I have just his talents to persuade;
“For why the lady should her heart bestow
“On me, or I of her enamour'd grow,
“There's none can reason give, there's none can danger show.”
These were his rapid thoughts, and then he spoke.
“I make a promise, and will not revoke;
“You are my judge in what is fit and right,
“And I obey you—bid me love or fight;
“Yet had I rather, so the act could meet
“With your concurrence,—not to play the cheat;
“In a fair cause”—
“I make a promise, and will not revoke;
19
“And I obey you—bid me love or fight;
“Yet had I rather, so the act could meet
“With your concurrence,—not to play the cheat;
“In a fair cause”—
“Charles, fighting for your king,
“Did you e'er judge the merits of the thing?
“Show me a monarch who has cause like mine,
“And yet what soldier would his cause decline?”
“Did you e'er judge the merits of the thing?
“Show me a monarch who has cause like mine,
“And yet what soldier would his cause decline?”
Poor Charles or saw not, or refused to see,
How weak the reasoning of our hopes may be,
And said—“Dear uncle, I my king obey'd,
“And for his glory's sake the soldier play'd;
“Now a like duty shall your nephew rule,
“And for your vengeance I will play the fool.”
'T was well; but ere they parted for repose,
A solemn oath must the engagement close.
How weak the reasoning of our hopes may be,
And said—“Dear uncle, I my king obey'd,
“And for his glory's sake the soldier play'd;
“Now a like duty shall your nephew rule,
“And for your vengeance I will play the fool.”
'T was well; but ere they parted for repose,
A solemn oath must the engagement close.
“Swear to me, nephew, from the day you meet
“This cruel girl, there shall be no deceit;
“That by all means approved and used by man
“You win this dangerous woman, if you can;
“That being won, you my commands obey,
“Leave her lamenting, and pursue your way;
“And that, as in my business, you will take
“My will as guide, and no resistance make:
“Take now an oath—within the volume look,
“There is the Gospel—swear, and kiss the book.”
“This cruel girl, there shall be no deceit;
“That by all means approved and used by man
“You win this dangerous woman, if you can;
“That being won, you my commands obey,
“Leave her lamenting, and pursue your way;
“And that, as in my business, you will take
“My will as guide, and no resistance make:
“Take now an oath—within the volume look,
“There is the Gospel—swear, and kiss the book.”
“It cannot be,” thought Charles, “he cannot rest
“In this strange humour,—it is all a jest,
“All but dissimulation—Well, sir, there;
“Now I have sworn as you would have me swear.”
“In this strange humour,—it is all a jest,
20
“Now I have sworn as you would have me swear.”
“'T is well,” the uncle said in solemn tone;
“Now send me vengeance, Fate, and groan for groan!”
“Now send me vengeance, Fate, and groan for groan!”
The time is come: the soldier now must meet
Th' unconscious object of the sworn deceit.
They meet; each other's looks the pair explore,
And, such their fortune, wish'd to part no more.
Whether a man is thus disposed to break
An evil compact he was forced to make,
Or whether some contention in the breast
Will not permit a feeling heart to rest;
Or was it nature, who in every case
Has made such mind subjected to such face;
Whate'er the cause, no sooner met the pair
Than both began to love, and one to feel despair.
Th' unconscious object of the sworn deceit.
They meet; each other's looks the pair explore,
And, such their fortune, wish'd to part no more.
Whether a man is thus disposed to break
An evil compact he was forced to make,
Or whether some contention in the breast
Will not permit a feeling heart to rest;
Or was it nature, who in every case
Has made such mind subjected to such face;
Whate'er the cause, no sooner met the pair
Than both began to love, and one to feel despair.
But the fair damsel saw with strong delight
Th' impression made, and gloried in the sight:
No chilling doubt alarm'd her tender breast,
But she rejoiced in all his looks profess'd;
Long ere his words her lover's hopes convey'd
They warm'd the bosom of the conscious maid;
One spirit seem'd each nature to inspire,
And the two hearts were fix'd in one desire.
Th' impression made, and gloried in the sight:
No chilling doubt alarm'd her tender breast,
But she rejoiced in all his looks profess'd;
Long ere his words her lover's hopes convey'd
They warm'd the bosom of the conscious maid;
One spirit seem'd each nature to inspire,
And the two hearts were fix'd in one desire.
“Now,” thought the courteous maid, “my father's friend
“Will ready pardon to my fault extend;
“He shall no longer lead that hermit's life,
“But love his mistress in his nephew's wife;
“My humble duty shall his anger kill,
“And I who fled his love will meet his will,
“Prevent his least desire, and every wish fulfil.”
“Will ready pardon to my fault extend;
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“But love his mistress in his nephew's wife;
“My humble duty shall his anger kill,
“And I who fled his love will meet his will,
“Prevent his least desire, and every wish fulfil.”
Hail, happy power! that to the present lends
Such views; not all on Fortune's wheel depends;
Hope, fair enchantress, drives each cloud away,
And now enjoys the glad, but distant day.
Such views; not all on Fortune's wheel depends;
Hope, fair enchantress, drives each cloud away,
And now enjoys the glad, but distant day.
Still fears ensued; for love produces fear.—
“To this dear maid can I indeed be dear?
“My fatal oath, alas! I now repent;
“Stern in his purpose, he will not relent;
“Would, ere that oath, I had Camilla seen!
“I had not then my honour's victim been:
“I must be honest, yet I know not how,
“'T is crime to break, and death to keep my vow.”
“To this dear maid can I indeed be dear?
“My fatal oath, alas! I now repent;
“Stern in his purpose, he will not relent;
“Would, ere that oath, I had Camilla seen!
“I had not then my honour's victim been:
“I must be honest, yet I know not how,
“'T is crime to break, and death to keep my vow.”
Sir Owen closely watch'd both maid and man,
And saw with joy proceed his cruel plan:
Then gave his praise—“She has it—has it deep
“In her capricious heart,—it murders sleep;
“You see the looks that grieve, you see the eyes that weep;
“Now breathe again, dear youth, the kindling fire,
“And let her feel what she could once inspire.”
And saw with joy proceed his cruel plan:
Then gave his praise—“She has it—has it deep
“In her capricious heart,—it murders sleep;
“You see the looks that grieve, you see the eyes that weep;
“Now breathe again, dear youth, the kindling fire,
“And let her feel what she could once inspire.”
Alas! obedience was an easy task,
So might he cherish what he meant to ask;
He ventured soon, for Love prepared his way,
He sought occasion, he forbad delay;
In spite of vow foregone he taught the youth
The looks of passion, and the words of truth;
In spite of woman's caution, doubt, and fear,
He bade her credit all she wish'd to hear;
An honest passion ruled in either breast,
And both believed the truth that both profess'd.
So might he cherish what he meant to ask;
He ventured soon, for Love prepared his way,
He sought occasion, he forbad delay;
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The looks of passion, and the words of truth;
In spite of woman's caution, doubt, and fear,
He bade her credit all she wish'd to hear;
An honest passion ruled in either breast,
And both believed the truth that both profess'd.
But now, 'mid all her new-born hopes, the eyes
Of fair Camilla saw through all disguise,
Reserve, and apprehension—Charles, who now
Grieved for his duty, and abhorr'd his vow,
Told the full fact, and it endear'd him more;
She felt her power, and pardon'd all he swore,
Since to his vow he could his wish prefer,
And loved the man who gave his world for her.
Of fair Camilla saw through all disguise,
Reserve, and apprehension—Charles, who now
Grieved for his duty, and abhorr'd his vow,
Told the full fact, and it endear'd him more;
She felt her power, and pardon'd all he swore,
Since to his vow he could his wish prefer,
And loved the man who gave his world for her.
What must they do, and how their work begin,
Can they that temper to their wishes win?
They tried, they fail'd; and all they did t' assuage
The tempest of his soul provoked his rage;
The uncle met the youth with angry look,
And cried, “Remember, sir, the oath you took;
“You have my pity, Charles, but nothing more,
“Death, and death only, shall her peace restore;
“And am I dying?—I shall live to view
“The harlot's sorrow, and enjoy it too.
Can they that temper to their wishes win?
They tried, they fail'd; and all they did t' assuage
The tempest of his soul provoked his rage;
The uncle met the youth with angry look,
And cried, “Remember, sir, the oath you took;
“You have my pity, Charles, but nothing more,
“Death, and death only, shall her peace restore;
“And am I dying?—I shall live to view
“The harlot's sorrow, and enjoy it too.
“How! words offend you? I have borne for years
“Unheeded anguish, shed derided tears,
“Felt scorn in every look, endured the stare
“Of wondering fools, who never felt a care;
“On me all eyes were fix'd, and I the while
“Sustain'd the insult of a rival's smile.
“And shall I now—entangled thus my foe,
“My honest vengeance for a boy forego?
“A boy forewarn'd, forearm'd? Shall this be borne,
“And I be cheated, Charles, and thou forsworn?
“Hope not, I say, for thou mayst change as well
“The sentence graven on the gates of hell—
“Here bid adieu to hope,—here hopeless beings dwell.
“Unheeded anguish, shed derided tears,
“Felt scorn in every look, endured the stare
“Of wondering fools, who never felt a care;
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“Sustain'd the insult of a rival's smile.
“And shall I now—entangled thus my foe,
“My honest vengeance for a boy forego?
“A boy forewarn'd, forearm'd? Shall this be borne,
“And I be cheated, Charles, and thou forsworn?
“Hope not, I say, for thou mayst change as well
“The sentence graven on the gates of hell—
“Here bid adieu to hope,—here hopeless beings dwell.
“But does she love thee, Charles? I cannot live
“Dishonour'd, unrevenged—I may forgive,
“But to thy oath I bind thee; on thy soul
“Seek not my injured spirit to control;
“Seek not to soften, I am hard of heart,
“Harden'd by insult:—leave her now, and part,
“And let me know she grieves, while I enjoy her smart.”
“Dishonour'd, unrevenged—I may forgive,
“But to thy oath I bind thee; on thy soul
“Seek not my injured spirit to control;
“Seek not to soften, I am hard of heart,
“Harden'd by insult:—leave her now, and part,
“And let me know she grieves, while I enjoy her smart.”
Charles first in anger to the knight replied,
Then felt the clog upon his soul, and sigh'd:
To his obedience made his wishes stoop,
And now admitted, now excluded hope;
As lovers do, he saw a prospect fair,
And then so dark, he sank into despair.
Then felt the clog upon his soul, and sigh'd:
To his obedience made his wishes stoop,
And now admitted, now excluded hope;
As lovers do, he saw a prospect fair,
And then so dark, he sank into despair.
The uncle grieved; he even told the youth
That he was sorry, and it seem'd a truth;
But though it vex'd, it varied not his mind,
He bound himself, and would his nephew bind.
“I told him this, placed danger in his view,
“Bade him be certain, bound him to be true;
“And shall I now my purposes reject,
“Because my warnings were of no effect?”
Thus felt Sir Owen as a man whose cause
Is very good—it had his own applause.
That he was sorry, and it seem'd a truth;
But though it vex'd, it varied not his mind,
He bound himself, and would his nephew bind.
“I told him this, placed danger in his view,
“Bade him be certain, bound him to be true;
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“Because my warnings were of no effect?”
Thus felt Sir Owen as a man whose cause
Is very good—it had his own applause.
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe | |