How long his crazy building will endure; Like an old house, that every day appears 180 About to fall--he may be propp’d for years; For a few months, indeed, we might comply, But these old batter’d fellows never die.” The hand of Isaac George on entering took, With love and resignation in his look; Declared his comfort in the fortune past, And joy to find his anchor safely cast; “Call then my nephews, let the grog be brought, And I will tell them how the ship was fought.” Alas! our simple seaman should have known, } 190 That all the care, the kindness, he had shown, } Were from his brother’s heart, if not his memory, } flown: } All swept away to be perceived no more, Like idle structures on the sandy shore; The chance amusement of the playful boy, That the rude billows in their rage destroy. Poor George confess’d, though loth the truth to find, Slight was his knowledge of a brother’s mind: The vulgar pipe was to the wife offence, The frequent grog to Isaac an expense; 200 “Would friends like hers,” she question’d, “choose to come, Where clouds of poison’d fume defiled a room? This could their lady-friend, and Burgess Steel, (Teased with his worship’s asthma) bear to feel? Could they associate or converse with him-- A loud rough sailor with a timber limb?” Cold as he grew, still Isaac strove to show, By well-feign’d care, that cold he could not grow; And when he saw his brother look distress’d, He strove some petty comforts to suggest; 210 On his wife solely their neglect to lay, And then t’ excuse it as a woman’s way; He too was chidden when her rules he broke, And then she sicken’d at the scent of smoke. George, though in doubt, was still consoled to find His brother wishing to be reckon’d kind. That Isaac seem’d concern’d by his distress, Gave to his injured feelings some redress; But none he found disposed to lend an ear To stories all were once intent to hear; 220 Except his nephew, seated on his knee, He found no creature cared about the sea; But George indeed--for George they call’d the boy, When his good uncle was their boast and joy-- Would listen long, and would contend with sleep, To hear the woes and wonders of the deep; Till the fond mother cried--“That man will teach The foolish boy his loud and boisterous speech.” So judged the father--and the boy was taught To shun the uncle, whom his love had sought. 230 The mask of kindness now but seldom worn, George felt each evil harder to be borne; And cried (vexation growing day by day), “Ah! brother Isaac!--What! I’m in the way!”-- “No! on my credit, look ye, No! but I }