Assured of wealth, this man of simple heart To every friend had predisposed a part; His wife had hopes indulged of various kind; The three Miss Dingleys had their school assign'd, Masters were sought for what they each required, And books were bought and harpsichords were hired; So high was hope:- the failure touched his brain, And Robin never was himself again; Yet he no wrath, no angry wish express'd, But tried, in vain, to labour or to rest; Then cast his bundle on his back, and went He knew not whither, nor for what intent. Years fled;--of Robin all remembrance past, When home he wandered in his rags at last: A sailor's jacket on his limbs was thrown, A sailor's story he had made his own; Had suffer'd battles, prisons, tempests, storms, Encountering death in all its ugliest forms: His cheeks were haggard, hollow was his eye, Where madness lurk'd, conceal'd in misery; Want, and th' ungentle world, had taught a part, And prompted cunning to that simple heart: "He now bethought him, he would roam no more But live at home and labour as before." Here clothed and fed, no sooner he began To round and redden, than away he ran; His wife was dead, their children past his aid, So, unmolested, from his home he stray'd: Six years elapsed, when, worn with want and pain. Came Robin, wrapt in all his rags again: We chide, we pity;--placed among our poor, He fed again, and was a man once more. As when a gaunt and hungry fox is found, Entrapp'd alive in some rich hunter's ground; Fed for the field, although each day's a feast, FATTEN you may, but never TAME the beast; A house protects him, savoury viands sustain:- But loose his neck and off he goes again: So stole our Vagrant from his warm retreat, To rove a prowler and be deemed a cheat. Hard was his fare; for him at length we saw In cart convey'd and laid supine on straw. His feeble voice now spoke a sinking heart; His groans now told the motions of the cart: And when it stopp'd, he tried in vain to stand; Closed was his eye, and clench'd his clammy hand: Life ebb'd apace, and our best aid no more Could his weak sense or dying heart restore: But now he fell, a victim to the snare That vile attorneys for the weak prepare; They who when profit or resentment call, Heed not the groaning victim they enthrall. Then died lamented in the strength of life, A valued MOTHER and a faithful WIFE; Call'd not away when time had loosed each hold On the fond heart, and each desire grew cold; But when, to all that knit us to our kind, She felt fast-bound, as charity can bind; - Not when the ills of age, its pain, its care, The drooping spirit for its fate prepare; And, each affection failing, leaves the heart Loosed from life's charm, and willing to depart; But all her ties the strong invader broke, In all their strength, by one tremendous stroke! Sudden and swift the eager pest came on, And terror grew, till every hope was gone; Still those around appear'd for hope to seek!