"And here," he thought, "I was caress'd; admired Were here my songs; she smiled, and I aspired. The change how grievous!" As he mused, a dame Busy and peevish to her duties came; Aside the tables and the chairs she drew, And sang and mutter'd in the poet's view: - "This was her fortune; here they leave the poor; Enjoy themselves, and think of us no more; I had a promise"--here his pride and shame Urged him to fly from this familiar dame; He gave one farewell look, and by a coach Reach'd his own mansion at the night's approach. His father met him with an anxious air, Heard his sad tale, and check'd what seem'd despair: Hope was in him corrected, but alive; My lord would something for a friend contrive; His word was pledged: our hero's feverish mind Admitted this, and half his grief resigned: But, when three months had fled, and every day Drew from the sickening hopes their strength away, The youth became abstracted, pensive, dull; He utter'd nothing, though his heart was full; Teased by inquiring words and anxious looks, And all forgetful of his Muse and books; Awake he mourn'd, but in his sleep perceived A lovely vision that his pain relieved: - His soul, transported, hail'd the happy seat, Where once his pleasure was so pure and sweet; Where joys departed came in blissful view Till reason waked, and not a joy he knew. Questions now vex'd his spirit, most from those Who are call'd friends, because they are not foes: "John?" they would say; he, starting, turn'd around, "John!" there was something shocking in the sound: Ill brook'd he then the pert familiar phrase, The untaught freedom and th' inquiring gaze; Much was his temper touch'd, his spleen provoked, When ask'd how ladies talk'd, or walk'd, or look'd? "What said my Lord of politics! how spent He there his time? and was he glad he went?" At length a letter came, both cool and brief, But still it gave the burden'd heart relief: Though not inspired by lofty hopes, the youth Placed much reliance on Lord Frederick's truth; Summon'd to town, he thought the visit one Where something fair and friendly would be done; Although he judged not, as before his fall, When all was love and promise at the hall. Arrived in town, he early sought to know The fate such dubious friendship would bestow; At a tall building trembling he appear'd, And his low rap was indistinctly heard; A well-known servant came--"Awhile," said he, "Be pleased to wait; my Lord has company." Alone our hero sat; the news in hand, Which though he read, he could not understand: Cold was the day; in days so cold as these There needs a fire, where minds and bodies freeze. The vast and echoing room, the polish'd grate, The crimson chairs, the sideboard with its plate; The splendid sofa, which, though made for rest, He then had thought it freedom to have press'd; The shining tables, curiously inlaid, Were all in comfortless proud style display'd; And to the troubled feelings terror gave,