I am your friend, and so prepare my heart In all your sorrows to receive a part.” The widow answer’d: “I had once, like you, Such thoughts of love; no dream is more untrue. 180 You judge it fated and decreed to dwell } In youthful hearts, which nothing can expel, } A passion doom’d to reign, and irresistible. } The struggling mind, when once subdued, in vain Rejects the fury or defies the pain; The strongest reason fails the flame t’ allay, And resolution droops and faints away: Hence, when the destined lovers meet, they prove At once the force of this all-powerful love; Each from that period feels the mutual smart, 190 Nor seeks to cure it--heart is changed for heart; Nor is there peace till they delighted stand, And, at the altar, hand is join’d to hand. “Alas! my child, there are who, dreaming so, Waste their fresh youth, and waking feel the wo; There is no spirit sent the heart to move With such prevailing and alarming love; Passion to reason will submit--or why Should wealthy maids the poorest swains deny? Or how could classes and degrees create 200 The slightest bar to such resistless fate? Yet high and low, you see, forbear to mix; No beggars’ eyes the heart of kings transfix; And who but am’rous peers or nobles sigh When titled beauties pass triumphant by? For reason wakes, proud wishes to reprove; You cannot hope, and therefore dare not love: All would be safe, did we at first inquire-- ‘Does reason sanction what our hearts desire?’ But, quitting precept, let example show 210 What joys from love uncheck’d by prudence flow. “A youth my father in his office placed, Of humble fortune, but with sense and taste; But he was thin and pale, had downcast looks; He studied much, and pored upon his books: Confused he was when seen, and, when he saw Me or my sisters, would in haste withdraw; And had this youth departed with the year, His loss had cost us neither sigh nor tear. “But with my father still the youth remain’d, 220 And more reward and kinder notice gain’d: He often, reading, to the garden stray’d, Where I by books or musing was delay’d; This to discourse in summer evenings led, Of these same evenings, or of what we read. On such occasions we were much alone; But, save the look, the manner, and the tone, (These might have meaning,) all that we discuss’d We could with pleasure to a parent trust. “At length ’twas friendship--and my friend and I 230 Said we were happy, and began to sigh; My sisters first, and then my father, found That we were wandering o’er enchanted ground; But he had troubles in his own affairs, And would not bear addition to his cares. With pity moved, yet angry, ‘Child,’ said he,