And gave the praise that was to each return'd. Jonas now ask'd his daughter--and the Aunt, Though loth to lose her, was obliged to grant: - But would not Sybil to the matron cling, And fear to leave the shelter of her wing? No! in the young there lives a love of change, And to the easy they prefer the strange! Then, too, the joys she once pursued with zeal, From whist and visits sprung, she ceased to feel: When with the matrons Sybil first sat down, To cut for partners and to stake her crown, This to the youthful maid preferment seem'd, Who thought what woman she was then esteem'd; But in few years, when she perceived, indeed, The real woman to the girl succeed, No longer tricks and honours fill'd her mind, But other feelings, not so well defined; She then reluctant grew, and thought it hard To sit and ponder o'er an ugly card; Rather the nut-tree shade the nymph preferr'd, Pleased with the pensive gloom and evening bird; Thither, from company retired, she took The silent walk, or read the fav'rite book. The father's letter, sudden, short, and kind, Awaked her wonder, and disturb'd her mind; She found new dreams upon her fancy seize, Wild roving thoughts and endless reveries. The parting came;--and when the Aunt perceived The tears of Sybil, and how much she grieved - To love for her that tender grief she laid, That various, soft, contending passions made. When Sybil rested in her father's arms, His pride exulted in a daughter's charms; A maid accomplish'd he was pleased to find, Nor seem'd the form more lovely than the mind: But when the fit of pride and fondness fled, He saw his judgment by his hopes misled; High were the lady's spirits, far more free Her mode of speaking than a maid's should be; Too much, as Jonas thought, she seem'd to know, And all her knowledge was disposed to show; "Too gay her dress, like theirs who idly dote On a young coxcomb or a coxcomb's coat; In foolish spirits when our friends appear, And vainly grave when not a man is near." Thus Jonas, adding to his sorrow blame, And terms disdainful to a Sister's name: "The sinful wretch has by her arts denied The ductile spirit of my darling child." "The maid is virtuous," said the dame--Quoth he, "Let her give proof, by acting virtuously: Is it in gaping when the Elders pray? In reading nonsense half a summer's day? In those mock forms that she delights to trace, Or her loud laughs in Hezekiah's face? She--O Susannah!--to the world belongs; She loves the follies of its idle throngs, And reads soft tales of love, and sings love's soft'ning songs. But, as our friend is yet delay'd in town, We must prepare her till the Youth comes down: You shall advise the maiden; I will threat; Her fears and hopes may yield us comfort yet." Now the grave father took the lass aside, Demanding sternly, "Wilt thou be a bride?" She answer'd, calling up an air sedate, "I have not vow'd against the holy state." "No folly, Sybil," said the parent; "know