Silent he stood, but suffering without shame; 590 And they observed that words severe or kind Made no impression on his wounded mind; For all perceived from whence his failure rose-- Some grief whose cause he deign’d not to disclose. A soul averse from scenes and works so new; Fear, ever shrinking from the vulgar crew; Distaste for each mechanic law and rule, Thoughts of past honour and a patron cool; A grieving parent, and a feeling mind, Timid and ardent, tender and refined: 600 These all with mighty force the youth assail’d, Till his soul fainted, and his reason fail’d. When this was known, and some debate arose How they who saw it should the fact disclose, He found their purpose, and in terror fled From unseen kindness, with mistaken dread. Meantime the parent was distress’d to find His son no longer for a priest design’d; But still he gain’d some comfort by the news Of John’s promotion, though with humbler views; 610 For he conceived that in no distant time The boy would learn to scramble and to climb. He little thought a son, his hope and pride, His favour’d boy, was now a home denied: Yes! while the parent was intent to trace How men in office climb from place to place, By day, by night, o’er moor and heath and hill, } Roved the sad youth, with ever-changing will, } Of every aid bereft, exposed to every ill. } Thus as he sate, absorb’d in all the care 620 And all the hope that anxious fathers share, A friend abruptly to his presence brought, With trembling hand, the subject of his thought, Whom he had found afflicted and subdued By hunger, sorrow, cold, and solitude. Silent he enter’d the forgotten room As ghostly forms may be conceived to come; With sorrow-shrunken face and hair upright, He look’d dismay, neglect, despair, affright; But, dead to comfort, and on misery thrown, 630 His parent’s loss he felt not, nor his own. The good man, struck with horror, cried aloud, And drew around him an astonish’d crowd; The sons and servants to the father ran, To share the feelings of the grieved old man. “Our brother, speak!” they all exclaim’d; “explain Thy grief, thy suffering;”--but they ask’d in vain: The friend told all he knew; and all was known, Save the sad causes whence the ills had grown. But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed 640 From rest and kindness must the cure proceed: And he was cured; for quiet, love, and care, Strove with the gloom, and broke on the despair. Yet slow their progress; and, as vapours move Dense and reluctant from the wintry grove; All is confusion till the morning light Gives the dim scene obscurely to the sight; More and yet more defined the trunks appear,