Am fond of peace, and my repose would buy } On any terms--in short, we must comply: } My spouse had money--she must have her will-- Ah! brother--marriage is a bitter pill.”-- George tried the lady--“Sister, I offend”-- 240 “Me?” she replied; “Oh no!--you may depend On my regard--but watch your brother’s way, Whom I, like you, must study and obey.” “Ah!” thought the seaman, “what a head was mine, That easy birth at Greenwich to resign! I’ll to the parish”--but a little pride, And some affection, put the thought aside. Now gross neglect and open scorn he bore In silent sorrow--but he felt the more; The odious pipe he to the kitchen took, 250 Or strove to profit by some pious book. When the mind stoops to this degraded state, New griefs will darken the dependent’s fate; “Brother!” said Isaac, “you will sure excuse The little freedom I’m compell’d to use: My wife’s relations--(curse the haughty crew)-- Affect such niceness, and such dread of you: You speak so loud--and they have natures soft-- Brother----I wish----do go upon the loft!” Poor George obey’d, and to the garret fled, 260 Where not a being saw the tears he shed. But more was yet required, for guests were come, Who could not dine if he disgraced the room. It shock’d his spirit to be esteem’d unfit With an own brother and his wife to sit; He grew rebellious--at the vestry spoke For weekly aid----they heard it as a joke: So kind a brother, and so wealthy----you Apply to us?----No! this will never do: Good neighbour Fletcher,” said the overseer, 270 “We are engaged--you can have nothing here!” George mutter’d something in despairing tone, Then sought his loft, to think and grieve alone; Neglected, slighted, restless on his bed, With heart half broken, and with scraps ill fed; Yet was he pleased that hours for play design’d Were given to ease his ever-troubled mind; The child still listen’d with increasing joy, And he was soothed by the attentive boy. At length he sicken’d, and this duteous child 280 Watch’d o’er his sickness, and his pains beguiled; The mother bade him from the loft refrain, But, though with caution, yet he went again; And now his tales the sailor feebly told, His heart was heavy, and his limbs were cold: The tender boy came often to entreat His good kind friend would of his presents eat, Purloin’d or purchased; for he saw, with shame, The food untouch’d that to his uncle came: Who, sick in body and in mind, received 290 The boy’s indulgence, gratified and grieved. “Uncle will die!” said George--the piteous wife Exclaim’d, “she saw no value in his life; But sick or well, to my commands attend, And go no more to your complaining friend.”