But I had no connexion with the trade; Bridges and churches, towers and halls, I saw, Maids and madonnas, and could sketch and draw: Yes, I had made a book, but that my pride In the not making was more gratified. “There was one feeling upon foreign ground, 630 That more distressing than the rest was found: That, though with joy I should my country see, There none had pleasure in expecting me. “I now was sixty, but could walk and eat; My food was pleasant, and my slumbers sweet; But what could urge me at a day so late To think of women?--my unlucky fate. It was not sudden; I had no alarms, But was attack’d when resting on my arms; Like the poor soldier: when the battle raged 640 The man escaped, though twice or thrice engaged; But, when it ended, in a quiet spot He fell, the victim of a random-shot. “With my good friend the vicar oft I spent The evening hours in quiet, as I meant; He was a friend in whom, although untried By ought severe, I found I could confide; A pleasant, sturdy disputant was he, } Who had a daughter--such the Fates decree, } To prove how weak is man--poor yielding man, like me. } “Time after time the maid went out and in, 651 Ere love was yet beginning to begin; The first awakening proof, the early doubt, Rose from observing she went in and out. My friend, though careless, seem’d my mind to explore, ‘Why do you look so often at the door?’ I then was cautious, but it did no good, For she, at least, my meanings understood; But to the vicar nothing she convey’d Of what she thought--she did not feel afraid. 660 “I must confess, this creature in her mind Nor face had beauty that a man would blind; No poet of her matchless charms would write, Yet sober praise they fairly would excite. She was a creature form’d man’s heart to make Serenely happy, not to pierce and shake; If she were tried for breaking human hearts, Men would acquit her--she had not the arts. Yet without art, at first without design, She soon became the arbitress of mine; 670 Without pretensions--nay, without pretence, But by a native strange intelligence Women possess when they behold a man Whom they can tease, and are assured they can; Then ’tis their soul’s delight and pride to reign } O’er the fond slave, to give him ease or pain, } And stretch and loose by turns the weighty viewless chain, } “Though much she knew, yet nothing could she prove; I had not yet confess’d the crime of love; But, in an hour when guardian-angels sleep, 680 I fail’d the secret of my soul to keep; And then I saw the triumph in those eyes That spoke--‘Ay, now you are indeed my prize.’