No letter came a doubtful mind to ease, 360 And, what was worse, no Frederick came to please; To college gone--so thought our little maid-- But not to see me! I was much afraid; I walk’d the garden round, and deeply sigh’d, When grandmamma grew faint! and dropt, and died: A fate so awful and so sudden drove All else away, and half extinguish’d love. Strange people came; they search’d the house around, And, vulgar wretches! sold whate’er they found: The secret hoards that in the drawers were kept, 370 The silver toys that with the tokens slept, The precious beads, the corals with their bells, That laid secure, lock’d up in secret cells, The costly silk, the tabby, the brocade, The very garment for the wedding made, Were brought to sale, with many a jest thereon! “Going--a bridal dress--for----Going!--Gone.” That ring, dear pledge of early love and true, } That to the wedded finger almost grew, } Was sold for six and ten-pence to a Jew! } 380 Great was the fancied worth; but ah! how small The sum thus made, and yet how valued all! But all that to the shameful service went Just paid the bills, the burial, and the rent; And I and Biddy, poor deserted maids! Were turn’d adrift to seek for other aids. Now left by all the world, as I believed, I wonder’d much that I so little grieved; Yet I was frighten’d at the painful view Of shiftless want, and saw not what to do. 390 In times like this the poor have little dread, They can but work, and they shall then be fed; And Biddy cheer’d me with such thoughts as this, “You’ll find the poor have their enjoyments, Miss!” Indeed I saw, for Biddy took me home To a forsaken hovel’s cold and gloom; And while my tears in plenteous flow were shed, With her own hands she placed her proper bed, Reserved for need. A fire was quickly made, And food, the purchase for the day, display’d; 400 She let in air to make the damps retire, Then placed her sad companion at her fire; She then began her wonted peace to feel, She [brought] her wool, and sought her favourite wheel; That as she turn’d, she sang with sober glee, “Begone, dull Care! I’ll have no more with thee”; Then turn’d to me, and bade me weep no more, But try and taste the pleasures of the poor. When dinner came, on table brown and bare Were placed the humblest forms of earthen ware, 410 With one blue dish, on which our food was placed, For appetite provided, not for taste. I look’d disgusted, having lately seen All so minutely delicate and clean; Yet, as I sate, I found to my surprise A vulgar kind of inclination rise, And near my humble friend, and nearer, drew, Tried the strange food, and was partaker too.