At length the Brothers met, no longer tried By those strong feelings that in time subside; Not fluent yet their language, but the eye And action spoke both question and reply; Till the heart rested, and could calmly feel; Till the shook compass felt the settling steel; Till playful smiles on graver converse broke, And either speaker less abruptly spoke. Still was there oft-times silence, silence blest, Expressive, thoughtful--their emotions’ rest: 10 Pauses that came not from a want of thought, But want of ease, by wearied passion sought; For souls, when hurried by such powerful force, Rest, and retrace the pleasure of the course. They differ’d much; yet might observers trace Likeness of features both in mind and face; Pride they possess’d, that neither strove to hide, But not offensive, not obtrusive pride. Unlike had been their life, unlike the fruits Of different tempers, studies, and pursuits; 20 Nay, in such varying scenes the men had moved, ’Twas passing strange that aught alike they loved. But all distinction now was thrown apart, While these strong feelings ruled in either heart. As various colours in a painted ball, While it has rest, are seen distinctly all, Till, whirl’d around by some exterior force, They all are blended in the rapid course: So in repose, and not by passion sway’d, We saw the difference by their habits made; 30 But, tried by strong emotions, they became Fill’d with one love, and were in heart the same; Joy to the face its own expression sent, And gave a likeness in the looks it lent. All now was sober certainty; the joy That no strong passions swell till they destroy: For they, like wine, our pleasures raise so high, That they subdue our strength, and then they die. George in his brother felt a glowing pride, He wonder’d who that fertile mind supplied-- 40 “Where could the wanderer gather on his road Knowledge so various? how the mind this food? No college train’d him, guideless through his life, Without a friend--not so! he has a wife. Ah! had I married, I might now have seen My----No! it never, never could have been, That long enchantment, that pernicious state!-- True, I recover’d, but alas! too late-- And here is Richard, poor indeed--but--nay! This is self-torment--foolish thoughts, away!” 50 Ease leads to habit, as success to ease, He lives by rule who lives himself to please; For change is trouble, and a man of wealth Consults his quiet as he guards his health; And habit now on George had sovereign power, His actions all had their accustom’d hour: At the fix’d time he slept, he walk’d, he read, Or sought his grounds, his gruel, and his bed; For every season he with caution dress’d,