But when he kneel'd, (she wish'd him not to kneel,) And spoke the fears and hopes that lovers feel; When too the prudent aunt herself confess'd Her wishes on the gentle youth would rest; The maiden's eye with tender passion beam'd, She dwelt with fondness on the life she schemed; The household cares, the soft and lasting ties Of love, with all his binding charities; Their village taught, consoled, assisted, fed, Till the young zealot tears of pleasure shed. But would her Mother? Ah! she fear'd it wrong To have indulged these forward hopes so long, Her mother loved, but was not used to grant Favours so freely as her gentle aunt. - Her gentle aunt, with smiles that angels wear, Dispell'd her Lucy's apprehensive tear: Her prudent foresight the request had made To one whom none could govern, few persuade; She doubted much if one in earnest woo'd A girl with not a single charm endued; The Sister's nobler views she then declared, And what small sum for Lucy could be spared; "If more than this the foolish priest requires, Tell him," she wrote," to check his vain desires." At length, with many a cold expression mix'd, With many a sneer on girls so fondly fix'd, There came a promise--should they not repent, But take with grateful minds the portion meant, And wait the Sister's day--the Mother might consent. And here, might pitying hope o'er truth prevail, Or love o'er fortune, we would end our tale; For who more bless'd than youthful pair removed From fear of want--by mutual friends approved - Short time to wait, and in that time to live With all the pleasures hope and fancy give; Their equal passion raised on just esteem, When reason sanctions all that love can dream? Yes! reason sanctions what stern fate denies: The early prospect in the glory dies, As the soft smiles on dying infants play In their mild features, and then pass away. The Beauty died ere she could yield her hand In the high marriage by the Mother plann'd; Who grieved indeed, but found a vast relief In a cold heart, that ever warr'd with grief. Lucy was present when her sister died, Heiress to duties that she ill supplied: There were no mutual feelings, sister arts, No kindred taste, nor intercourse of hearts: When in the mirror play'd the matron's smile, The maiden's thoughts were traveling all the while; And when desired to speak, she sigh'd to find Her pause offended; "Envy made her blind: Tasteless she was, nor had a claim in life Above the station of a rector's wife; Yet as an heiress, she must shun disgrace, Although no heiress to her mother's face: It is your duty," said th' imperious dame, "(Advanced your fortune,) to advance your name, And with superior rank, superior offers claim: Your sister's lover, when his sorrows die, May look upon you, and for favour sigh; Nor can you offer a reluctant hand; His birth is noble, and his seat is grand." Alarm'd was Lucy, was in tears--"A fool! Was she a child in love?--a miss at school?