All that connects us with a world above She loved to fancy, and she long’d to prove; Well would the poet please her, who could lead Her fancy forth, yet keep untouch’d her creed. “Led by an early custom, Lucy spied, When she awaked, the Bible at her side; That, ere she ventured on a world of care, } 160 She might for trials, joys or pains prepare, } For every dart a shield, a guard for every snare. } “She read not much of high heroic deeds, Where man the measure of man’s power exceeds; But gave to luckless love and fate severe Her tenderest pity and her softest tear. “She mix’d not faith with fable, but she trod Right onward, cautious in the ways of God; Nor did she dare to launch on seas unknown, } In search of truths by some adventurers shown, } 170 But her own compass used, and kept a course her own. } “The maidens both their loyalty declared, And in the glory of their country shared; But Jane that glory felt with proud delight, When England’s foes were vanquish’d in the fight; While Lucy’s feelings for the brave who bled Put all such glorious triumphs from her head. “They both were frugal; Lucy from the fear Of wasting that which want esteems so dear, But finds so scarce, her sister from the pain 180 That springs from want, when treated with disdain. “Jane borrow’d maxims from a doubting school, And took for truth the test of ridicule; Lucy saw no such virtue in a jest: Truth was with her of ridicule a test. “They loved each other with the warmth of youth, With ardour, candour, tenderness, and truth; And, though their pleasures were not just the same, Yet both were pleased whenever one became; Nay, each would rather in the act rejoice, 190 That was th’ adopted, not the native choice. “Each had a friend, and friends to minds so fond And good are soon united in the bond; Each had a lover; but it seem’d that fate Decreed that these should not approximate. Now Lucy’s lover was a prudent swain, And thought, in all things, what would be his gain; The younger sister first engaged his view, But with her beauty he her spirit knew; Her face he much admired, ‘but, put the case,’ 200 Said he, ‘I marry, what is then a face? At first it pleases to have drawn the lot; He then forgets it, but his wife does not; Jane too,’ he judged, ‘would be reserved and nice, And many lovers had enhanced her price.’ “Thus thinking much, but hiding what he thought, The prudent lover Lucy’s favour sought, And he succeeded--she was free from art, And his appear’d a gentle guileless heart; Such she respected; true, her sister found 210 His placid face too ruddy and too round, Too cold and inexpressive; such a face