'Sir, I like this heat; Duper or duped, a well-bred man's discreet; Take but this hint (one can't have all in life), You lose the uncle if you win the wife. In this, you choose Rank, Station, Power, Career; In that, Bills, Babies,--and the Bench, I fear. Hush;--'the least said' (old proverb, sir, but true!)-- As yet your fault indulgently I view. Words,--notes (sad stuff!)--some promise rashly made-- Action for breach--_that_ scandal must be stay'd. I trust such scrapes will teach you to beware; 'Twill cost some hundreds--that be my affair. Depart at once--to-morrow--nay, to-day: When fairly gone, there will be less to pay!' So spoke the Statesman, whom experience told The weight of passion in the scales of gold. Pleased I escape, but how reprieve enjoy? One word from her distrusted could destroy! Yet that distrust the whispering heart belied, Self ceased, and anger into pity died; I thought of Mary in her desolate hour, And shudder'd at the blast, and trembled for the flower. Why not go seek her?--chide the impatient snare; } Or if faith linger'd, win it to forbear? } Now was the time, no jealous father there! } Swift as the thought impell'd me, I obey'd! 'Tis night; once more I greet the moonlit shade; Once more I see the happy murmuring rill; The white cot bower'd beneath the pastoral hill! An April night, when, after sparkling showers, The dewy gems betray the cradled flowers, As if some sylphid, startled from her bed In the rath blossom by the mortal's tread, Had left behind her pearly coronal.-- Bright shone the stars on Earth's green banquet-hall; You seem'd, abroad, to see, to feel, to hear The new life flushing through the virgin year; The visible growth--the freshness and the balm; The pulse of Nature throbbing through the calm; As wakeful, over every happy thing, Watch'd through the hush the Earth's young mother--Spring! Calm from the lattice shot a steady ray; } Calm on the sward its silvery lustre lay; } And reach'd, to glad the glancing waves at play. } I stood and gazed within the quiet room;-- Gazed on her cheek;--_there_, spring had lost its bloom! Alone she sate! _Alone!_--that worn-out word, So idly spoken, and so coldly heard; Yet all that poets sing, and grief hath known, Of hope laid waste, knells in that word--ALONE!