For Lucy Collins happier days had been, Had Footman Daniel scorn'd his native green; Or when he came an idle coxcomb down, Had he his love reserved for lass in town; To Stephen Hill she then had pledged her truth,-- A sturdy, sober, kind, unpolish'd youth; But from the day, that fatal day she spied The pride of Daniel, Daniel was her pride. 320 In all concerns was Stephen just and true; } But coarse his doublet was and patch'd in view, } And felt his stockings were, and blacker than his shoe; } While Daniel's linen all was fine and fair-- His master wore it, and he deign'd to wear; (To wear his livery, some respect might prove; To wear his linen, must be sign of love:) Blue was his coat, unsoil'd by spot or stain; His hose were silk, his shoes of Spanish-grain; A silver knot his breadth of shoulder bore; 330 } A diamond buckle blazed his breast before-- } Diamond he swore it was! and show'd it as he swore; } Rings on his fingers shone; his milk-white hand Could pick-tooth case and box for snuff command: And thus, with clouded cane, a fop complete, He stalk'd, the jest and glory of the street. Join'd with these powers, he could so sweetly sing, Talk with such toss, and saunter with such swing; Laugh with such glee, and trifle with such art, That Lucy's promise fail'd to shield her heart. 340 Stephen, meantime, to ease his amorous cares, Fix'd his full mind upon his farm's affairs; Two pigs, a cow, and wethers half a score, Increased his stock, and still he look'd for more. He, for his acres few, so duly paid, That yet more acres to his lot were laid; Till our chaste nymphs no longer felt disdain, And prudent matrons praised the frugal swain; Who, thriving well, through many a fruitful year, Now clothed himself anew, and acted overseer. 350 Just then poor Lucy, from her friend in town, Fled in pure fear, and came a beggar down; Trembling, at Stephen's door she knock'd for bread-- } Was chidden first, next pitied, and then fed; } Then sat at Stephen's board, then shared in Stephen's bed } All hope of marriage lost in her disgrace, He mourns a flame revived, and she a love of lace.