“Oh! they were all so eloquent, so free, No! he was nothing--nothing could he be. They dress so smartly, and so boldly look, And talk as if they read it from a book; But I,” said Stephen, “will forbear to speak, And they will think me prudent, and not weak. They talk, the instant they have dropp’d the pen, Of singing-women and of acting-men; Of plays and places where at night they walk Beneath the lamps, and with the ladies talk; 230 While other ladies for their pleasure sing, Oh! ’tis a glorious and a happy thing. They would despise me, did they understand I dare not look upon a scene so grand; Or see the plays when critics rise and roar, And hiss and groan, and cry--‘Encore! encore!’-- There’s one among them looks a little kind; If more encouraged, I would ope my mind.” Alas! poor Stephen, happier had he kept His purpose secret, while his envy slept; 240 Virtue, perhaps, had conquer’d, or his shame At least preserved him simple as he came. A year elapsed before this clerk began To treat the rustic something like a man; He then in trifling points the youth advised, Talk’d of his coat, and had it modernized; Or with the lad a Sunday-walk would take, And kindly strive his passions to awake; Meanwhile explaining all they heard and saw, Till Stephen stood in wonderment and awe. 250 To a neat garden near the town they stray’d, Where the lad felt delighted and afraid; There all he saw was smart, and fine, and fair-- He could but marvel how he ventured there: Soon he observed, with terror and alarm, His friend enlock’d within a lady’s arm, And freely talking--“But it is,” said he, “A near relation, and that makes him free;” And much amazed was Stephen, when he knew This was the first and only interview; 260 Nay, had that lovely arm by him been seized, The lovely owner had been highly pleased: “Alas!” he sigh’d, “I never can contrive, At such bold, blessed freedoms to arrive; Never shall I such happy courage boast; I dare as soon encounter with a ghost.” Now to a play the friendly couple went, But the boy murmur’d at the money spent; “He loved,” he said, “to buy, but not to spend-- They only talk awhile, and there’s an end.” 270 “Come, you shall purchase books,” the friend replied; “You are bewilder’d, and you want a guide; To me refer the choice, and you shall find The light break in upon your stagnant mind!” The cooler clerks exclaim’d, “In vain your art T’ improve a cub without a head or heart; Rustics, though coarse, and savages, though wild, Our cares may render liberal and mild; But what, my friend, can flow from all these pains? There is no dealing with a lack of brains.”-- 280