University of Virginia Library

LIV.

But soon, from fear of future change,
The evil took a wider range.
The Northern farmers, spoil'd and bare,
No more could rent or produce spare
To the soil's lords. All were distress'd,
And on our noble dame this evil sorely press'd.
Her household numerous, her means withheld;
Shall she her helpless servants now dismiss
To rob or starve, in such a time as this,
Or wrong to others do? But nothing quell'd
Her calm and upright mind.—“Go, summon here
Those who have served me many a year.”
The summons went; each lowly name
Full swiftly to her presence came,
And thus she spoke: “Ye've served me long,
“Pure, as I think, from fraud or wrong,
“And now, my friendly neighbours, true
“And simply I will deal with you.
“The times are shrewd, my treasures spent,
“My farms have ceased to yield me rent;
“And it may chance that rent or grain
“I never shall receive again.
“The dainties which my table fed
“Will now be changed for daily bread,
“Dealt sparely, and for this I must
“Be debtor to your patient trust,
“If ye consent.”—Swift through the hall,
With eager haste, spoke one and all.
“No, noble dame! this must not be!
“With heart as warm and hand as free,
“Still thee and thine we'll serve with pride,
“As when fair fortune graced your side.
“The best of all our stores afford
“Shall daily smoke upon thy board;
“And shouldst thou never clear the score,
“Heav'n for thy sake will bless our store.”
She bent her head with courtesy,
The big tear swelling in her eye,
And thank'd them all. Yet plain and spare,
She order'd still her household fare,
Till fortune's better die we cast,
And adverse times were past.