And take this heart, so faithful and so fond, Still bound to thine; and fear not for that bond.’ “He said; and went, with purpose he believed Of generous nature--so is man deceived. “Lucy determined that her lover’s eye Should not distress nor supplication spy; That in her manner he should nothing find To indicate the weakness of her mind. He saw no eye that wept, no frame that shook; No fond appeal was made by word or look; 520 Kindness there was, but join’d with some restraint; And traces of the late event were faint. “He look’d for grief deploring, but perceives No outward token that she longer grieves; He had expected for his efforts praise, For he resolved the drooping mind to raise; She would, he judged, be humble, and afraid That he might blame her rashness and upbraid; And lo! he finds her in a quiet state, Her spirit easy and her air sedate: 530 As if her loss was not a cause for pain, As if assured that he would make it gain,-- “Silent awhile, he told the morning news, And what he judged they might expect to lose; He thought himself, whatever some might boast, The composition would be small at most, Some shabby matter; she would see no more The tithe of what she held in hand before. “How did her sister feel? and did she think Bloomer was honest, and would never shrink? 540 ‘But why that smile; is loss like yours so light That it can aught like merriment excite? Well, he is rich, we know, and can afford To please his fancy, and to keep his word; To him ’tis nothing; had he now a fear, He must the meanest of his sex appear; But the true honour, as I judge the case, Is both to feel the evil and embrace.’ “Here Barlow stopp’d, a little vex’d to see No fear or hope, no dread or ecstasy. 550 Calmly she spoke--‘Your prospects, sir, and mine Are not the same--their union I decline; Could I believe the hand for which you strove Had yet its value, did you truly love, I had with thanks addressed you, and replied, Wait till your feelings and my own subside, Watch your affections, and, if still they live, What pride denies, my gratitude shall give.’ Ev’n then, in yielding, I had first believed That I conferr’d the favour, not received. 560 “‘You I release--nay, hear me--I impart Joy to your soul--I judge not of your heart. Think’st thou a being, to whom God has lent A feeling mind, will have her bosom rent By man’s reproaches? Sorrow will be thine, For all thy pity prompts thee to resign! Think’st thou that meekness’ self would condescend To take the husband when she scorns the friend? Forgive the frankness, and rejoice for life Thou art not burden’d with so poor a wife. 570