Till his soul fainted, and his reason fail'd: When this was known, and some debate arose, How they who saw it should the fact disclose, He found their purpose, and in terror fled From unseen kindness, with mistaken dread. Meantime the parent was distress'd to find His son no longer for a priest design'd; But still he gain'd some comfort by the news Of John's promotion, though with humbler views; For he conceived that in no distant time The boy would learn to scramble and to climb; He little thought his son, his hope and pride, His favour'd boy, was now a home denied: Yes! while the parent was intent to trace How men in office climb from place to place, By day, by night, o'er moor and heath, and hill, Roved the sad youth, with ever-changing will, Of every aid bereft, exposed to every ill. Thus as he sat, absorb'd in all the care And all the hope that anxious fathers share, A friend abruptly to his presence brought, With trembling hand, the subject of his thought; Whom he had found afflicted and subdued By hunger, sorrow, cold, and solitude. Silent he enter'd the forgotten room, As ghostly forms may be conceived to come; With sorrow-shrunken face and hair upright, He look'd dismayed, neglect, despair, affright; But dead to comfort, and on misery thrown, His parent's loss he felt not, nor his own. The good man, struck with horror, cried aloud, And drew around him an astonish'd crowd; The sons and servants to the father ran, To share the feelings of the griev'd old man. "Our brother, speak!" they all exclam'd "explain Thy grief, thy suffering:"--but they ask'd in vain: The friend told all he knew; and all was known, Save the sad causes whence the ills had grown; But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed From rest and kindness must the cure proceed: And he was cured; for quiet, love, and care, Strove with the gloom, and broke on the despair; Yet slow their progress, and as vapours move Dense and reluctant from the wintry grove; All is confusion, till the morning light Gives the dim scene obscurely to the sight; More and yet more defined the trunks appear, Till the wild prospect stands distinct and clear; - So the dark mind of our young poet grew Clear and sedate; the dreadful mist withdrew; And he resembled that bleak wintry scene, Sad, though unclouded; dismal, though serene. At times he utter'd, "What a dream was mine! And what a prospect! glorious and divine! Oh! in that room, and on that night to see Those looks, that sweetness beaming all on me; That syren-flattery--and to send me then, Hope-raised and soften'd, to those heartless men; That dark-brow'd stern Director, pleased to show Knowledge of subjects I disdain'd to know; Cold and controlling--but 'tis gone--'tis past; I had my trial, and have peace at last." Now grew the youth resigned: he bade adieu To all that hope, to all that fancy drew; His frame was languid, and the hectic heat Flush'd on his pallid face, and countless beat