The slightest bar to such resistless fate? Yet high and low, you see, forbear to mix; No beggars' eyes the heart of kings transfix; And who but am'rous peers or nobles sigh, When titled beauties pass triumphant by? For reason wakes, proud wishes to reprove; You cannot hope, and therefore dare not love; All would be safe, did we at first inquire - 'Does reason sanction what our hearts desire?' But quitting precept, let example show What joys from Love uncheck'd by prudence flow. "A Youth my father in his office placed, Of humble fortune, but with sense and taste; But he was thin and pale, had downcast looks: He studied much, and pored upon his books: Confused he was when seen, and when he saw Me or my sisters, would in haste withdraw; And had this youth departed with the year, His loss had cost us neither sigh nor tear. "But with my father still the youth remain'd, And more reward and kinder notice gain'd: He often, reading, to the garden stray'd, Where I by books or musing was delay'd; This to discourse in summer evenings led, Of these same evenings, or of what we read: On such occasions we were much alone; But, save the look, the manner, and the tone, (These might have meaning,) all that we discuss'd We could with pleasure to a parent trust. "At length 'twas friendship--and my Friend and I Said we were happy, and began to sigh; My sisters first, and then my father, found That we were wandering o'er enchanted ground: But he had troubles in his own aifairs, And would not bear addition to his cares: With pity moved, yet angry, 'Child,' said he, 'Will you embrace contempt and beggary?' Can you endure to see each other cursed By want, of every human woe the worst? Warring for ever with distress, in dread Either of begging or of wanting bread; While poverty, with unrelenting force, Will your own offspring from your love divorce; They, through your folly, must be doom'd to pine, And you deplore your passion, or resign; For if it die, what good will then remain? And if it live, it doubles every pain.'" "But you were true," exclaim'd the Lass," and fled The tyrant's power who fill'd your soul with dread?" "But," said the smiling Friend, "he fill'd my mouth with bread: And in what other place that bread to gain We long consider'd, and we sought in vain: This was my twentieth year,--at thirty-five Our hope was fainter, yet our love alive; So many years in anxious doubt had pass'd." "Then," said the Damsel, "you were bless'd at last?" A smile again adorn'd the Widow's face, But soon a starting tear usurp'd its place. "Slow pass'd the heavy years, and each had more Pains and vexations than the years before. My father fail'd; his family was rent, And to new states his grieving daughters sent: Each to more thriving kindred found a way, Guests without welcome,--servants without pay; Our parting hour was grievous; still I feel The sad, sweet converse at our final meal; Our father then reveal'd his former fears,