I walk’d at eve, but not where I was seen, And thought, with sorrow, what can Frederick mean? 420 I must not write, I said, for I am poor; And then I wept till I could weep no more. Kind-hearted Biddy tried my griefs to heal, This is a nothing to what others feel; Life has a thousand sorrows worse than this, A lover lost is not a fortune, Miss! One goes, another comes, and which is best There is no telling--set your heart at rest.” At night we pray’d--I dare not say a word Of our devotion, it was so absurd; 430 And very pious upon Biddy’s part, But mine were all effusions of the heart; While she her angels call’d their peace to shed, And bless the corners of our little bed. All was a dream! I said, is this indeed } To be my life? and thus to lodge and feed, } To pay for what I have, and work for what I need? } Must I be poor? and Frederick, if we meet, Would not so much as know me in the street? Or, as he walk’d with ladies, he would try 440 To be engaged as we were passing by-- And then I wept to think that I should grow Like them whom he would be ashamed to know. On the third day, while striving with my fate, And hearing Biddy all its comforts state, Talking of all her neighbours, all her schemes, Her stories, merry jests, and warning dreams, With tales of mirth and murder--O! the nights Past, said the maiden, in such dear delights, And I was thinking, can the time arrive 450 When I shall thus be humbled, and survive?-- Then I beheld a horse and handsome gig, With the good air, tall form, and comely wig Of Doctor Mackey--I in fear began To say, Good heaven, preserve me from the man! But fears ill reason--heaven to such a mind Had lent a heart compassionate and kind. From him I learnt that one had call’d to know What with my hand my parents could bestow; And when he learn’d the truth, in high disdain 460 He told my fate, and home return’d again. “Nay, be not grieved, my lovely girl; but few Wed the first love, however kind and true; Something there comes to break the strongest vow, Or mine had been my gentle Mattie now. When the good lady died--but let me leave All gloomy subjects--’tis not good to grieve.” Thus the kind Scotchman soothed me; he sustain’d A father’s part, and my submission gain’d, Then my affection; and he often told 470 My sterner parent that her heart was cold. He grew in honour--he obtain’d a name-- And now a favourite with the place became; To me most gentle, he would condescend To read and reason, be the guide and friend; He taught me knowledge of the wholesome kind, And fill’d with many a useful truth my mind. Life’s common burden daily lighter grew;