"Hadst thou the power to help them--it were well, To be most anxious. To collect thy freight Of human sorrow, and, by merchandize, Exchange it for the riches of the world: For health, for comfort, nay, perchance for life, That gem of countless value, which sometimes, Not all the treasures of the East can buy, Tendered with supplications and with tears, Is often purchas'd at a petty price, Nay, in exchange for courtesy. What joy Must in that moment fill the merchant's heart, To win a jewel, kings monopolize The sole disposal of! Be patient then! This glorious privilege may yet be thine! Deserve it only by fulfilling all The gentler duties that have present claims With cheerfulness and zeal--Let no neglect Press on thy father's age, no discontent Sour thee with thy companions, no mistrust Give pain to friendship, and thy usefulness Though calm and bounded, has no mean award." Thus, like a prophet, did he still enforce Only the virtues and rare qualities Congenial with her after destiny; Yet, not foreseeing evil, he himself Was unprepared, and when her father led, Her opposition and entreaty past, The hapless Lora forth, to promise love And honour to a man, whose vacant mind, Throughout a course of long succeeding years, She vainly strove to soften and to raise, Though he had taught her patience till that hour, His own at once forsook him, and he fled.