“And now no more on these affairs I dwell; } What I possess that I alone can tell, } And to that subject we will bid farewell. } As go I must, when Heaven is pleased to call, What I shall leave will seem or large or small, As you shall view it. When this pulse is still, You may behold my wealth, and read my will. “And now, as Captain Elliot much has known, That to your Uncle never had been shown, From him one word of honest counsel hear— 1070 _And think it always gain to be sincere_.” TALE III. _THE EQUAL MARRIAGE._ There are gay nymphs whom serious matrons blame, And men adventurous treat as lawful game— Misses, who strive, with deep and practised arts, To gain and torture inexperienced hearts. The hearts entangled they in pride retain, And at their pleasure make them feel their chain; For this they learn to manage air and face, To look a virtue, and to act a grace, To be whatever men with warmth pursue— } Chaste, gay, retiring, tender, timid, true, 10} To-day approaching near, to-morrow just in view. } Maria Glossip was a thing like this— A much observing, much experienced Miss; Who on a stranger-youth would first decide Th’ important question—“Shall I be his bride?” But, if unworthy of a lot so bless’d, ’Twas something yet to rob the man of rest; The heart, when stricken, she with hope could feed, Could court pursuit, and, when pursued, recede. Hearts she had won, and with delusion fed, 20 With doubt bewilder’d, and with hope misled; Mothers and rivals she had made afraid, And wrung the breast of many a jealous maid; Friendship, the snare of lovers, she profess’d, And turn’d the heart’s best feelings to a jest. Yet seem’d the Nymph as gentle as a dove, Like one all guiltless of the game of love— Whose guileless innocence might well be gay; } Who had no selfish secrets to betray; } Sure, if she play’d, she knew not how to play. 30} Oh! she had looks so placid and demure, Not Eve, ere fallen, seem’d more meek or pure; And yet the Tempter of the falling Eve Could not with deeper subtilty deceive. A Sailor’s heart the Lady’s kindness moved, And winning looks, to say how well he loved; Then left her hopeful for the stormy main, Assured of love when he return’d again. Alas! the gay Lieutenant reach’d the shore, To be rejected, and was gay no more; 40 Wine and strong drink the bosom’s pain suppress’d, Till Death procured, what Love denied him—rest. But men of more experience learn to treat These fair enslavers with their own deceit. Finch was a younger brother’s youngest son, Who pleased an Uncle with his song and gun; Who call’d him ‘Bob,’ and ‘Captain,’ by that name Anticipating future rank and fame; Not but there was for this some fair pretence— He was a cornet in the Home Defence. 50