Taught to believe the world a place Where every stranger was a foe, Train'd in the arts that mark our race, To what new people could I go? 50 Could I a better life embrace, Or live as virtue dictates? No!-- So through the land I wandering went, And little found of grief or joy; But lost my bosom's sweet content When first I loved--the Gipsy-Boy. A sturdy youth he was and tall, His looks would all his soul declare; His piercing eyes were deep and small, And strongly curl'd his raven-hair. 60 Yes, Aaron had each manly charm, All in the May of youthful pride; He scarcely fear'd his father's arm, And every other arm defied.-- Oft, when they grew in anger warm, (Whom will not love and power divide?) I rose, their wrathful souls to calm, Not yet in sinful combat tried. His father was our party's chief, And dark and dreadful was his look; 70 His presence fill'd my heart with grief; Although to me he kindly spoke. With Aaron I delighted went, His favour was my bliss and pride; In growing hope our days we spent, Love growing charms in either spied; It saw them, all which Nature lent, It lent them all which she denied. Could I the father's kindness prize, Or grateful looks on him bestow, 80 Whom I beheld in wrath arise, When Aaron sunk beneath his blow? He drove him down with wicked hand,-- It was a dreadful sight to see; Then vex'd him, till he left the land, And told his cruel love to me;-- The clan were all at his command, Whatever his command might be. The night was dark, the lanes were deep, And one by one they took their way; 90 He bade me lay me down and sleep, I only wept and wish'd for day. Accursèd be the love he bore. Accursèd was the force he used; So let him of his God implore For mercy, and be so refused! You frown again;--to show my wrong, Can I in gentle language speak? My woes are deep, my words are strong;-- And hear me, or my heart will break. 100 MAGISTRATE. I hear thy words, I feel thy pain; Forbear awhile to speak thy woes; Receive our aid, and then again The story of thy life disclose. For, though seduced and led astray, Thou'st travell'd far and wander'd long; Thy God hath seen thee all the way, And all the turns that led thee wrong. PART II. Quondam ridentes oculi, nunc fonte perenni Deplorant poenas nocte dieque suas. _Corn. Galli_ [Maximiniani (Pseudo-Galli)] _Eleg._ [I. vv. 137-8.] MAGISTRATE. Come, now again thy woes impart, Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin; We cannot heal the throbbing heart Till we discern the wounds within.