Then turn’d she from the yawning ground, And, eying Whang with thought profound, Saw in his look, on her that bent, A meaning most intelligent. A wish defin’d she saw, and knelt; Beside her soon his form she felt: Then, with join’d hands uplift in air, Burst from their lips the ardent prayer. With brighter hopes from earth they rose, Nor long (—for so the story goes) In idle wailings spent the day: Just then a neighbour pass’d that way.— Whang turn’d his head; a crimson streak Rush’d hastily across his cheek, And Cath’rine’s palpitating breast A momentary shame confess’d: For well they knew, Old Robin’s tale Soon through the village would prevail, And bring a host about their ears, With pity some, and some with jeers. But _guilt_ and _folly_ must endure The _caustics_ that effect a cure. Whang therefore strove, with patient heart, To bear th’ anticipated smart; Nor vainly strove: the threaten’d ill Fell, he with patience met it still. Few in the morning of his grief Or gave, or proffer’d him relief. Those who had _counsell’d heretofore_, Excus’d themselves from doing more, “Presuming nothing _they_ could offer Would meet acceptance from the scoffer.” Others, meanwhile, of nature good, Assisted, comforted, withstood With honest scorn the worldling’s cant, Nor shunn’d a neighbour, though in want. To all, Whang bore an humble mien, By all, his contrite spirit’s seen; Till even they who smil’d at first, When o’er his head the tempest burst, Were forc’d, in justice, to declare His penitence _appear’d sincere_. “They trusted, nay, _almost believ’d_ His loss of character retriev’d:” And, soften’d by his chang’d address, “Good fortune _wish’d_, and happiness.” And he _was_ happy—“he was bless’d Beyond desert,” he oft confessed, By friends, by all the good caress’d. A smiling garden, rescu’d mill, His dear old cottage on the hill, A faithful wife, a conscience clear, Shed brightness on each coming year. The church-yard stone, that bears his name, Records his failing and his fame; And, in his life and death, conveys A moral truth to future days. FINIS. [Illustration: Burst from their lips the ardent prayer. _Page 28._] [Illustration: ’Tis lucky that I have my health. Since this poor mill is all my wealth: _Page 12._] [Illustration: At eve before the cottage-door. They talk’d the wondrous story o’er; _Page 14._] [Illustration: My pretty window! that commands Those meadows green and wooded lands. _Page 19._] [Illustration: One foot a little in advance. With nose and lip contemptuous curl’d. That said, “A fig for all the world!” _Page 22._] [Illustration: ——ye Powers! what do I see?—— _Page 24._]