Dinner quickly dispatch'd--to the Captain of course, My seat I resign'd and then borrow'd a horse, Be assur'd the barouche was most duly attended, And from dangers (that came not) most bravely defended, So courageous I felt, that 'twas really a pity, We never encounter'd one troop of banditti, No fright of the horses induc'd them to try, Just to leap o'er a bridge tho' so many were nigh, As the roads that would shake her 'twas folly to fly at, I was forc'd to ride on most provokingly quiet, In hopes that some future occasion will prove, My prowess, and gallantry, equal my love. This morning I rose with the dawning of day, On Agnes to think and contrive what to say, And after some planning and much hesitation, To her father I spoke on this weighty occasion: And I gratefully own that the worthy old Squire, Was as kind to my hopes as my heart could desire; He confess'd 'twas his foible to value old blood, And declar'd that my race was both ancient and good, 'Fore the conquest he reckon'd some fifteen or twenty, And when it took place there were Blunderheads plenty, In the days of King Stephen 'tis known how they flourish'd, And the wars of the Roses the pedigree nourish'd, In Harry the eighth's time 'twas easy to trace, The parliament owed its support to our race, Tho' Elizabeth liked us not yet it was plain, We came pretty handsomely in the next reign; And continued in pow'r thro' succeeding confusion, Till sadly eclips'd by the proud revolution, And altho' since that period somewhat declining, He trusted the time would return for our shining, Tho' 'tis true that the Regent disclaims our alliance, From his fondness for freedom, for arts, and for science. In short he appear'd both so learned and kind, He's the wisest and best of old men to my mind, But adieu my dear mother I'm now on the wing, With Agnes to taste the Chalybeate spring. &c. &c. &c. LETTER X. _High Harrogate, September 21st._ For my silence these three weeks your pardon I ask, But really dear mother all writing's a task, Save for sonnets to Agnes I do not know when, My run-a-way fingers laid hold of a pen, But I trust your indulgence will freely excuse, This natural fault in my negligent muse, Since she now comes before you in very great sorrow, To tell you I part with my charmer to-morrow, Tho' the Dragon's quite full and the company gay, And a ball at the Queen's-head is promis'd to-day, Yet when Agnes is gone I most plainly can see, This place will have lost all attraction for me, And I think when the coach and my lovely one in it Drives away, that I too must be off the next minute, Consolation to find in my mother's kind greeting, And forming good plans for our next pleasant meeting.