The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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ON THE DEPARTURE OF AN OLD HOUSEKEEPER. |
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 | The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
243
ON THE DEPARTURE OF AN OLD HOUSEKEEPER.
'Tis past; and since she is for ever fled,
With all her by-gone blunders on her head,
Let not the laugh, the sneer, pursue her still,
Nor mark her failings, where she meant no ill.
Cease now her foibles, Ridicule, to tell;
Let Gratitude declare—she loved us well.
With all her by-gone blunders on her head,
Let not the laugh, the sneer, pursue her still,
Nor mark her failings, where she meant no ill.
Cease now her foibles, Ridicule, to tell;
Let Gratitude declare—she loved us well.
Can we forget, now when for aye we part,
Her charity, the goodness of her heart,
Her wish to please, her readiness to lend
(Although unasked) assistance to a friend?
Can we forget all these? and yet retain
The few—the puny errors of her brain?
You who are blind to what her heart could do,
Be just at least, dismiss her failings too:
Grant—while an inmate, her mistakes could tease,
Her look amuse us, or her faults displease,—
Yet now—her fancies and her follies past—
Her failings vanish, while her love will last.
Her charity, the goodness of her heart,
Her wish to please, her readiness to lend
(Although unasked) assistance to a friend?
Can we forget all these? and yet retain
The few—the puny errors of her brain?
You who are blind to what her heart could do,
Be just at least, dismiss her failings too:
Grant—while an inmate, her mistakes could tease,
Her look amuse us, or her faults displease,—
Yet now—her fancies and her follies past—
Her failings vanish, while her love will last.
244
Still, when she calls to mind her happiest days,
She'll load her former friends with well meant praise;
Still will regret that, forced at length to roam,
She leaves the spot she called so long her home.
She'll load her former friends with well meant praise;
Still will regret that, forced at length to roam,
She leaves the spot she called so long her home.
Let us our ridicule, our mocking, end;
Quit the companion, yet retain the friend:
Forgive her faults, for there no malice low'rs;
Forget those faults, for she was blind to ours.
Quit the companion, yet retain the friend:
Forgive her faults, for there no malice low'rs;
Forget those faults, for she was blind to ours.
1816.
| The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |