The Youth was ever drest in dapper style, Wore spotless linen, and a ceaseless smile; His step was measured, and his air was nice— They bought him high, who had him at the price That his own judgment and becoming pride, And all the merit he assumed, implied. A life he loved of liberty and ease, And all his pleasant labour was to please; Not call’d at present hostile men to slay, He made the hearts of gentle dames his prey. 60 Hence tales arose, and one of sad report: A fond, fair girl became his folly’s sport— A cottage lass, who “knew the youth would prove For ever true, and give her love for love; Sure when he could, and that would soon be known, He would be proud to show her as his own.” But still she felt the village damsels’ sneer, And her sad soul was fill’d with secret fear; His love excepted, earth was all a void, And he, the excepted man, her peace destroy’d. 70 When the poor Jane was buried, we could hear The threat of rustics whisper’d round her bier. Stories like this were told, but yet, in time Fair ladies lost their horror at the crime. They knew that cottage girls were forward things, Who never heed a nettle till it stings; Then, too, the Captain had his fault confess’d, And scorn’d to turn a murder to a jest. Away with murder!—This accomplish’d swain Beheld Maria, and confess’d her reign— 80 She came, invited by the rector’s wife, Who “never saw such sweetness in her life.” Now, as the rector was the Uncle’s friend, It pleased the Nephew there his steps to bend, Where the fair damsel then her visit paid, And seem’d an unassuming rustic maid. A face so fair, a look so meek, he found Had pierced that heart no other nymph could wound. “Oh, sweet Maria”—so began the Youth His meditations—“thine the simple truth! 90 Thou hast no wicked wisdom of thy sex, No wish to gain a subject-heart—then vex. That heavenly bosom no proud passion swells; No serpent’s wisdom with thy meekness dwells. Oh! could I bind thee to my heart, and live In love with thee, on what our fortunes give! Far from the busy world, in some dear spot, Where Love reigns king, we’d find some peaceful cot. To wed, indeed, no prudent man would choose; But such a maid will lighter bonds refuse!” 100 And was this youth a rake?—In very truth; Yet, feeling love, he felt it as a youth; If he had vices, they were laid aside; He quite forgot the simple girl who died; With dear Maria he in peace would live, And what had pass’d—Maria would forgive. The fair Coquette at first was pleased to find A swain so knowing had become so blind; And she determined, with her utmost skill, To bind the rebel to her sovereign will. 110 She heard the story of the old deceit, And now resolved he should with justice meet;— “Soon as she saw him on her hook secure, He should the pangs of perjured man endure.”