Till a gold offering in the plate was laid: Trembling he took it, for a moment stopp'd, Then down it fell, and sounded as it dropp'd; Amazed he started, for th' affrighted man, Lost and bewilder'd, thought not of the bran. But all were silent, all on things intent Of high concern, none ear to money lent; So on he walk'd, more cautious than before, And gain'd the purposed sum and one piece more. "Practice makes perfect:" when the month came round, He dropp'd the cash, nor listen'd for a sound: But yet, when last of all th' assembled flock He ate and drank,--it gave th' electric shock: Oft was he forced his reasons to repeat, Ere he could kneel in quiet at his seat; But custom soothed him--ere a single year All this was done without restraint or fear: Cool and collected, easy and composed, He was correct till all the service closed; Then to his home, without a groan or sigh, Gravely he went, and laid his treasure by. Want will complain: some widows had express'd A doubt if they were favour'd like the rest; The rest described with like regret their dole, And thus from parts they reason'd to the whole: When all agreed some evil must be done, Or rich men's hearts grew harder than a stone. Our easy vicar cut the matter short; He would not listen to such vile report. All were not thus--there govern'd in that year A stern stout churl, an angry overseer; A tyrant fond of power, loud, lewd, and most severe: Him the mild vicar, him the graver clerk, Advised, reproved, but nothing would he mark. Save the disgrace; "and that, my friends," said he, "Will I avenge, whenever time may be." And now, alas! 'twas time: --from man to man Doubt and alarm and shrewd suspicions ran. With angry spirit and with sly intent, This parish-ruler to the altar went: A private mark he fix'd on shillings three, And but one mark could in the money see: Besides in peering round, he chanced to note A sprinkling slight on Jachin's Sunday-coat: All doubt was over: --when the flock were bless'd, In wrath he rose, and thus his mind express'd: - "Foul deeds are here!" and saying this, he took The Clerk, whose conscience, in her cold-fit, shook: His pocket then was emptied on the place; All saw his guilt; all witness'd his disgrace: He fell, he fainted, not a groan, a look, Escaped the culprit; 'twas a final stroke - A death-wound never to be heal'd--a fall That all had witness'd, and amazed were all. As he recover'd, to his mind it came, "I owe to Satan this disgrace and shame:" All the seduction now appear'd in view; "Let me withdraw," he said, and he withdrew: No one withheld him, all in union cried, E'en the avenger,--"We are satisfied:" For what has death in any form to give, Equal to that man's terrors, if he live? He lived in freedom, but he hourly saw How much more fatal justice is than law; He saw another in his office reign, And his mild master treat him with disdain: He saw that all men shunn'd him, some reviled,