But here a hill appears, and Peter Rayner stops. } “Ah! my old Friend, I give you joy,” he cries; 210 “But some are born to fall, and some to rise; You’re better many a thousand, I the worse— Dick, there’s no dealing with a failing purse; Nor does it shame me (mine is all mischance) To wish some friendly neighbour would advance”— ——But here the guest on such a theme was low. His host, meantime, intent upon the show, In hearing heard not—they came out to see— And, pushing forward, “There’s a view,” quoth he; “Observe that ruin, built, you see, to catch 220 The gazer’s eye; that cottage with the thatch— It cost me—guess you what?”—that sound of _cost_ Was accidental, but it was not lost. “Ah! my good Friend, be sure such things as these Suit well enough a man who lives at ease. Think what ‘The Betsy’ _cost_, and think the shock Of losing her upon the Dodder-Rock! The tidings reach’d me on the very day That villain robb’d us, and then ran away. Loss upon loss! now if”—— “Do stay a bit;” 230 Exclaim’d the Squire, “these matters hardly fit A morning ramble—let me show you now My team of oxen, and my patent plough. Talk of your horses! I the plan condemn— They eat us up—but oxen! we eat them; For first they plough and bring us bread to eat, And then we fat and kill them—there’s the meat. What’s your opinion?”— —“I am poorly fed, And much afraid to want both meat and bread,” Said Rayner, half indignant; and the Squire 240} Sigh’d, as he felt he must no more require } A man, whose prospects fail’d, his prospects to admire. } Homeward they moved, and met a gentle pair, The poor man’s daughter, and the rich man’s heir. This caused some thought; but on the couple went, And a soft hour in tender converse spent. This pair, in fact, their passion roused anew, Alone much comfort from the visit drew. At home the Ladies were engaged, and all Show’d or were shown the wonders of the Hall; 250 From room to room the weary guests went on, Till every Rayner wish’d the show was done. Home they return’d; the Father deeply sigh’d } To find he vainly had for aid applied; } It hurt him much to ask—and more to be denied. } The younger Richard, who alone sustain’d The dying Friendship, true to Love remain’d. His Phœbe’s smiles, although he did not yet Fly to behold, he could not long forget; Nor durst he visit, nor was love so strong, 260 That he could more than think his Father wrong; For, wrong or right, that father still profess’d The most obedient son should fare the best. So time pass’d on; the second spring appear’d, Ere Richard ventured on the deed he fear’d.— He dared at length; and not so much for love, I grieve to add, but that he meant to prove He had a will.—His father, in reply,