That shamed and frighten’d the dependent fair: Past time she view’d, the passing time to cheat, But nothing found to make the present sweet; With pensive soul she read life’s future page, And saw dependent, poor, repining age. But who shall dare t’ assert what _years_ may bring, When wonders from the passing _hour_ may spring?-- There dwelt a yeoman in the place, whose mind Was gentle, generous, cultivated, kind; 50 For thirty years he labour’d; fortune then Placed the mild rustic with superior men: A richer Stafford, who had lived to save, What he had treasured to the poorer gave; Who with a sober mind that treasure view’d, And the slight studies of his youth renew’d. He not profoundly, but discreetly read, And a fair mind with useful culture fed; Then thought of marriage--“But the great,” said he, “I shall not suit, nor will the meaner me.” 60 Anna he saw, admired her modest air; He thought her virtuous, and he knew her fair; Love raised his pity for her humble state, And prompted wishes for her happier fate; No pride in money would his feelings wound, Nor vulgar manners hurt him and confound: He then the lady at the hall address’d, Sought her consent, and his regard express’d; Yet, if some cause his earnest wish denied, He begg’d to know it; and he bow’d and sigh’d. 70 The lady own’d that she was loth to part, But praised the damsel for her gentle heart, Her pleasing person, and her blooming health; But ended thus, “Her virtue is her wealth.” “Then is she rich!” he cried, with lively air; “But whence, so please you, came a lass so fair?” “A placeman’s child was Anna, one who died And left a widow by afflictions tried; She to support her infant daughter strove, But early left the object of her love; 80 Her youth, her beauty, and her orphan-state Gave a kind countess interest in her fate; With her she dwelt, and still might dwelling be, When the earl’s folly caused the lass to flee; A second friend was she compell’d to shun, By the rude offers of an uncheck’d son; I found her then, and with a mother’s love Regard the gentle girl whom you approve. Yet, e’en with me, protection is not peace; Nor man’s designs, nor beauty’s trial, cease; 90 Like sordid boys by costly fruit they feel: They will not purchase, but they try to steal.” Now this good lady, like a witness true, Told but the truth, and all the truth she knew; And ’tis our duty and our pain to show Truth this good lady had not means to know. Yes, there was lock’d within the damsel’s breast A fact important to be now confess’d; Gently, my muse, th’ afflicting tale relate, And have some feeling for a sister’s fate. 100