That Pity stays not long in human hearts; When sad for others’ woes our hearts are grown, This soon gives place to sorrows of our own. There was among our guardian Volunteers A Major Bright—he reckoned fifty years: A reading man of peace, but call’d to take His sword and musket for his country’s sake; Not to go forth and fight, but here to stay, Invaders, should they come, to chase or slay. 440 Him had the elder Lady long admired, As one from vain and trivial things retired; With him conversed; but to a Friend so dear Gave not that pleasure—Why? is not so clear. But chance effected this; the Major now Gave both the time his duties would allow; In walks, in visits, when abroad, at home, The friendly Major would to either come. He never spoke—for he was not a boy— Of ladies’ charms, or lovers’ grief and joy. 450 All his discourses were of serious kind, The heart they touch’d not, but they fill’d the mind. Yet—oh, the pity! from this grave good man The cause of coolness in the Friends began. The sage Sophronia—that the chosen name— Now more polite, and more estranged became. She could but feel that she had longer known This valued friend—he was indeed her own; But Frances Dyson, to confess the truth, Had more of softness—yes, and more of youth; 460 And, though he said such things had ceased to please, The worthy Major was not blind to these: So without thought, without intent, he paid More frequent visits to the younger Maid. Such the offence; and, though the Major tried To tie again the knot he thus untied, His utmost efforts no kind looks repaid— He moved no more the inexorable maid. The Friends too parted, and the elder told Tales of false hearts, and friendships waxing cold; 470 And wonder’d what a man of sense could see In the light airs of wither’d vanity. ’Tis said that Frances now the world reviews, Unwilling all the little left to lose; She and the Major on the walks are seen, And all the world is wondering what they mean. Such were the four whom Captain Elliot drew To his own board, as the selected few. For why? they seem’d each other to approve, And called themselves a Family of Love. 480 These were not all: there was a Youth beside, Left to his uncles when his parents died; A Girl, their sister, by a Boy was led } To Scotland, where a boy and girl may wed— } And they return’d to seek for pardon, pence, and bread. } Five years they lived to labour, weep, and pray, When Death, in mercy, took them both away. Uncles and aunts received this lively child, Grieved at his fate, and at his follies smiled; But, when the child to boy’s estate grew on, 490 The smile was vanish’d, and the pity gone. Slight was the burden, but in time increased, Until at length both love and pity ceased. Then Tom was idle; he would find his way