A wound from this, this leave not time to heal, But let thy wife her cheerful smile withhold, Let her be civil, distant, cautious, cold; Then shall I woo forgiveness, and repent, Nor bear to lose the blessings Heaven has lent.” 510 But this was needless—there was joy of heart, All felt the good that all desired t’ impart; Respect, affection, and esteem combined, In sundry portions ruled in every mind; And o’er the whole an unobtrusive air Of pious joy, that urged the silent prayer, And bless’d the new-born feelings——Here we close Our Tale of Tales!—Health, reader, and repose! POSTHUMOUS TALES. TALE I. _SILFORD HALL; OR, THE HAPPY DAY._ Within a village, many a mile from town, A place of small resort and no renown— Save that it form’d a way, and gave a name To SILFORD HALL, it made no claim to fame— It was the gain of some, the pride of all, That travellers stopt to ask for SILFORD HALL. Small as it was, the place could boast a School, In which Nathaniel Perkin bore the rule. Not mark’d for learning deep, or talents rare, But for his varying tasks and ceaseless care, 10 Some forty boys, the sons of thrifty men, He taught to read, and part to use the pen; While, by more studious care, a favourite few } Increased his pride—for, if the Scholar knew } Enough for praise, say what the Teacher’s due?— } These to his presence, slates in hand, moved on, And a grim smile their feats in figures won. This Man of Letters woo’d in early life The Vicar’s maiden, whom he made his wife. She too can read, as by her song she proves— 20 The song Nathaniel made about their loves. Five rosy girls, and one fair boy, increased The Father’s care, whose labours seldom ceased. No day of rest was his. If, now and then, His boys for play laid by the book and pen, For Lawyer Slow there was some deed to write, Or some young farmer’s letter to indite, Or land to measure, or, with legal skill, To frame some yeoman’s widow’s peevish will; And on the Sabbath—when his neighbours drest 30 To hear their duties, and to take their rest— Then, when the Vicar’s periods ceased to flow, Was heard Nathaniel, in his seat below. Such were his labours; but the time is come When his son Peter clears the hours of gloom, And brings him aid: though yet a boy, he shares In staid Nathaniel’s multifarious cares. A king his father, he, a prince, has rule— The first of subjects, viceroy of the school; But, though a prince within that realm he reigns, 40 Hard is the part his duteous soul sustains. He, with his Father, o’er the furrow’d land, } Draws the long chain in his uneasy hand, } And neatly forms at home, what there they rudely plann’d; } Content, for all his labour if he gains Some words of praise, and sixpence for his pains.