Nor ask’d the seaman what he saved or spent: But took his grog, wrought hard, and was content; Till war awaked the land, and George began To think what part became a useful man: “Press’d, I must go; why, then, ’tis better far At once to enter like a British tar, Than a brave captain and the foe to shun, As if I fear’d the music of a gun.” “Go not!” said Isaac--“You shall wear disguise.” “What!” said the seaman, “clothe myself with lies?”-- 70 “Oh! but there’s danger.”--“Danger in the fleet? You cannot mean, good brother, of defeat; And other dangers I at land must share-- So now adieu! and trust a brother’s care.” Isaac awhile demurr’d--but, in his heart, So might he share, he was disposed to part: The better mind will sometimes feel the pain } Of benefactions--favour is a chain; } But they the feeling scorn, and what they wish, disdain;-- } While beings form’d in coarser mould will hate 80 The helping hand they ought to venerate. No wonder George should in this cause prevail, With one contending who was glad to fail: “Isaac, farewell! do wipe that doleful eye; } Crying we came, and groaning we may die. } Let us do something ’twixt the groan and cry: } And hear me, brother, whether pay or prize, One half to thee I give and I devise; For thou hast oft occasion for the aid Of learn’d physicians, and they will be paid: 90 Their wives and children men support, at sea, And thou, my lad, art wife and child to me: Farewell!--I go where hope and honour call, Nor does it follow that who fights must fall.” Isaac here made a poor attempt to speak, And a huge tear moved slowly down his cheek; Like Pluto’s iron drop, hard sign of grace, } It slowly roll’d upon the rueful face, } Forced by the striving will alone its way to trace. } Years fled--war lasted--George at sea remain’d, 100 While the slow landman still his profits gain’d. A humble place was vacant--he besought His patron’s interest, and the office caught; For still the virgin was his faithful friend, And one so sober could with truth commend, Who of his own defects most humbly thought, And their advice with zeal and reverence sought. Whom thus the mistress praised, the maid approved, And her he wedded whom he wisely loved. No more he needs assistance--but, alas! 110 He fears the money will for liquor pass; Or that the seaman might to flatterers lend, Or give support to some pretended friend. Still, he must write--he wrote, and he confess’d That, till absolved, he should be sore distress’d; But one so friendly would, he thought, forgive The hasty deed--Heav’n knew how he should live; “But you,” he added, “as a man of sense,