_P._ Lives yet the WIDOW, whose firm spirit bore Ills unrepining?— _F._ Here she lives no more; But where—I speak with some good people’s leave— Where all good works their due reward receive; Though, what reward to our best works is due, 50 I leave to them—and will my tale pursue. Again she married, to her husband’s friend, Whose wife was hers; whom going to attend, As on her death-bed she, yet young, was laid, The anxious parent took her hand and said: “Prove _now_ your love; let these poor infants be As thine, and find a mother’s love in thee!”— “And must I woo their father?”—“Nay, indeed; } He no encouragement but hope will need; } In hope too let me die, and think my wish decreed!” 60} The wife expires; the widow’d pair unite; Their love was sober, and their prospect bright. She train’d the children with a studious love, That knew full well t’ encourage and reprove; Nicely she dealt her praise and her disgrace; Not harsh and not indulgent out of place; Not to the forward partial—to the slow } All patient, waiting for the time to sow } The seeds that, suited to the soil, would grow. } Nor watch’d she less the Husband’s weaker soul, 70 But learn’d to lead him who abhorr’d control; Who thought a nursery, next a kitchen, best To women suited—and she acquiesced; She only begg’d to rule in small affairs, And ease her wedded lord of common cares; Till he at length thought every care was small, Beneath his notice, and she had them all. He on his throne the lawful monarch sate, And she was by—the minister of state; He gave assent, and he required no more, 80 But sign’d the act that she decreed before. Again, her fates in other work decree A mind so active should experienced be. One of the name, who roved the world around, At length had something of its treasures found, And childless died, amid his goods and gain, In far Barbadoes on the western main. His kinsman heard, and wish’d the wealth to share, But had no mind to be transported there: “His Wife could sail—her courage who could doubt?— 90 And she was not tormented with the gout.” She liked it not; but for his children’s sake, And for their father’s, would the duty take. Storms she encounter’d, ere she reach’d the shore, And other storms when these were heard no more— The rage of lawyers forced to drop their prey— And once again to England made her way. She found her Husband with his gout removed, And a young nurse, most skilful and approved; Whom—for he yet was weak—he urged to stay, 100 And nurse him while his consort was away:— “She was so handy, so discreet, so nice, As kind as comfort, though as cold as ice! Else,” he assured his lady, “in no case, So young a creature should have fill’d the place.” It has been held—indeed, the point is clear—