Discretion slept, or so the lover dream’d; And, watching long the now confiding maid, He thought her guardless, and grew less afraid; Led to the theme that he had shunn’d before, He used a language he must use no more-- For if it answers, there is no more need, And no more trial, should it not succeed. “Then made he that attempt, in which to fail Is shameful,--still more shameful to prevail. 640 “Then was there lightning in that eye that shed Its beams upon him--and his frenzy fled; Abject and trembling at her feet he laid, Despised and scorn’d by the indignant maid, Whose spirits in their agitation rose, Him, and her own weak pity, to oppose: As liquid silver in the tube mounts high, Then shakes and settles as the storm goes by. “While yet the lover stay’d, the maid was strong, But when he fled, she droop’d and felt the wrong-- 650 Felt the alarming chill, the enfeebled breath, Closed the quick eye, and sank in transient death. So Lucy found her; and then first that breast Knew anger’s power, and own’d the stranger guest. “‘And is this love? Ungenerous! Has he too Been mean and abject? Is no being true?’ For Lucy judged that, like her prudent swain, Bloomer had talk’d of what a man might gain; She did not think a man on earth was found, A wounded bosom, while it bleeds, to wound; 660 Thought not that mortal could be so unjust, As to deprive affliction of its trust; Thought not a lover could the hope enjoy, That must the peace he should promote destroy; Thought not, in fact, that in the world were those, Who to their tenderest friends are worse than foes, Who win the heart, deprive it of its care, Then plant remorse and desolation there. “Ah! cruel he, who can that heart deprive Of all that keeps its energy alive; 670 Can see consign’d to shame the trusting fair, And turn confiding fondness to despair; To watch that time--a name is not assign’d For crime so odious, nor shall learning find. Now, from that day has Lucy laid aside Her proper cares, to be her sister’s guide, Guard, and protector. At their uncle’s farm They past the period of their first alarm, But soon retired, nor was he grieved to learn They made their own affairs their own concern. 680 “I knew not then their worth; and, had I known, Could not the kindness of a friend have shown; For men they dreaded; they a dwelling sought, And there the children of the village taught; There, firm and patient, Lucy still depends Upon her efforts, not upon her friends; She is with persevering strength endued, And can be cheerful--for she will be good. “Jane too will strive the daily tasks to share, That so employment may contend with care; 690