"Should her Eliza-no! she was too just,

Too good and kind-but ah! too young to trust."
Anna return'd, her former place resumed,
And faded beauty with new grace rebloom'd;
And if some whispers of the past were heard,
They died innoxious, as no cause appear'd;
But other cares on Anna's bosom press'd,

She saw her father gloomy and distress'd;

He died o'erwhelm'd with debt, and soon was shed

The filial sorrow o'er a mother dead:

Some youthful gaspings for forbidden fruit:
Why so disorder'd, love? are such the crimes

She sought Eliza's arms, that faithful friend was That give us sorrow in our graver times?
wed:

Then was compassion by the countess shown,
And all th' adventures of her life are known.

And now beyond her hopes-no longer tried
By slavish awe-she lived a yeoman's bride;
Then bless'd her lot, and with a grateful mind
Was careful, cheerful, vigilant, and kind;
The gentle husband felt supreme delight,
Bless'd by her joy, and happy in her sight;
He saw with pride in every friend and guest
High admiration and regard express'd:
With greater pride, and with superior joy,
He look'd exulting on his first-born boy;

To her fond breast the wife her infant strain'd,
Some feelings utter'd, some were not explain'd;
And she enraptured with her treasure grew,
The sight familiar, but the pleasure new.

Yet there appear'd within that tranquil state
Some threatening prospect of uncertain fate;
Between the married when a secret lies,
{It wakes suspicion from enforced disguise:
Still thought the wife upon her absent friend,
With all that must upon her truth depend;
There is no being in the world beside,
Who can discover what that friend will hide;
Who knew the fact, knew not my name or state,
Who these can tell cannot the fact relate;
But thou, Eliza, canst the whole impart,
And all my safety is thy generous heart."

Mir'd with these fears-but light and transient
these-

Fled years of peace, prosperity, and ease
So tranquil all. that scarce a gloomy day
For days of gloom unmix'd prepared the way;
One eve, the wife, still happy in her state,
Sang gayly, thoughtless of approaching fate:
Then came a letter, that (received in dread,
Not unobserved) she in confusion read;

The substance this; "Her friend rejoiced to find
That she had riches with a grateful mind;
While poor Eliza had from place to place
Been lured by hope to labour for disgrace;
That every scheme her wandering husband tried,
Pain'd while he lived, and perish'd when he died."
She then of want in angry style complain'd,
Her child a burden to her life remain'd,

Come, take a present for your friend, and rest
In perfect peace-you find you are confess'd."
This cloud, though past, alarm'd the conscious
wife,

Presaging gloom and sorrow for her life;
Who to her answer join'd a fervent prayer,
That her Eliza would a sister spare:

If she again-but was there cause?-should send,
Let her direct-and then she named a friend:
A sad expedient untried friends to trust.
And still to fear the tried may be unjust:
Such is his pain, who, by his debt oppress'd,
Seeks by new bonds a temporary rest.

Few were her peaceful days till Anna read
The words she dreaded, and had cause to dread:-
"Did she believe, did she, unkind, suppose
That thus Eliza's friendship was to close?
No! though she tried, and her desire was plain,
To break the friendly bond, she strove in vain :
Ask'd she for silence? why so loud the call,
And yet the token of her love so small?
By means like these will you attempt to bind
And check the movements of an injured mind?
Poor as I am. I shall be proud to show
What dangerous secrets I may safely know:
Secrets to men of jealous minds convey'd,
Have many a noble house in ruins laid:
Anna, I trust, although with wrongs beset,
And urged by want, I shall be faithful yet;
But what temptation may from these arise,
To take a slighted woman by surprise,

Becomes a subject for your serious care-
For who offends, must for offence prepare."
Perplex'd, dismay'd, the wife foresaw her doom;
A day deferr'd was yet a day to come;
But still, though painful her suspended state,
She dreaded more the crisis of her fate;
Better to die than Stafford's scorn to meet,
And her strange friend perhaps would be discreet:
Presents she sent, and made a strong appeal
To woman's feelings, begging her to feel;
With too much force she wrote of jealous men,
And her tears falling spoke beyond the pen;
| Eliza's silence she again implored,
And promised all that prudence could afford.
For looks composed and careless Anna tried;

Her kindred shunn'd her prayers, no friend her She seem'd in trouble, and unconscious sigh'd :soul sustain'd.

"Yet why neglected? Dearest Anna knew
Her worth once tried, her friendship ever true;
She hoped, she trusted, though by wants oppress'd,
To lock the treasured secret in her breast;
Yet, vex'd by trouble, must apply to one,
For kindness due to her for kindness done."
in Anna's mind was tumult, in her face
Flushings of dread had momentary place:

The faithful husband, who devoutly loved
His silent partner, with concern reproved:
"What secret sorrows on my Anna press,
That love may not partake, nor care redress?"
None, none," she answer'd, with a look so
kind,

66

That the fond man determined to be blind.

A few succeeding weeks of brief repose,
In Anna's cheek revived the faded rose;

M

The hint was strong; young Osmyn search'd his store

For bribes, and found he soon could bribe no more; That time arrived, for Osmyn's stock was small, And the young tyrant now possess'd it all; The cruel youth, with his companions near, Gave the broad hint that raised the sudden fear; Th' ungenerous insult now was daily shown, at And Osmyn's peace and honest pride were flown; Then came augmenting woes, and fancy strong Drew forms of suffering, a tormenting throng; He felt degraded, and the struggling mind Dared not be free, and could not be resign'd; And all his pains and fervent prayers obtain'd Was truce from insult, while the fears remain'd.

45

Was but a pittance, yet how patient I!

But give me now what thy first terrors gave,
My speech shall praise thee, and my silence

save.'

Osmyn had found, in many a dreadful day,
The tyrant fiercer when he seem'd in play :
He begg'd forbearance; 'I have not to give ;
Spare me a while, although 'tis pain to live:
O! had that stolen fruit the power possess'd
To war with life, I now had been at rest.'
"So fond of death,' replied the boy, 'tis plain
Thou hast no certain notion of the pain;
But to the caliph were a secret shown,

Death has no pain that would be then unknown.'

TA

RES

She hath a t

Open as day for melt
Yet, notwithstanding
Her temper, therefo

-Three or four w "Alas! good soul!" an hearts: but there is no Cæsar had stabb'd their no less.

How dost? I'm cold myself-W The art of our nece: That can make vile

FEMALES there are of
Easy and soft, and ere
Who, when offended
Will hear th' offender
And there are others
Asks but the humbles
But they, once injure
And, seldom pardonin
Urged by religion, the
Guard the warm hear
Those are like wax-
Melting, they take th
Easy to mould, and fa
And again moulded y

That traitor friend, whom pains nor prayers could Like smelted iron the

move;

Who raised the fears no mortal could endure,
And then with cruel avarice sold the cure.

"My tale is ended; but, to be applied,

I must describe the place where caliphs hide."
Here both the females look'd alarm'd, dis-
tress'd,

With hurried passions hard to be express'd.

"It was a closet by a chamber placed,
Where slept a lady of no vulgar taste;
Her friend attended in that chosen room
That she had honour'd and proclaim'd her home:
To please the eye were chosen pictures placed,
And some light volumes to amuse the taste;
Letters and music on a table laid,

For much the lady wrote, and often play'd;
Beneath the window was a toilet spread,
And a fire gleam'd upon a crimson bed."

He paused, he rose; with troubled joy the wife Grave was the man,
Felt the new era of her changeful life;
Frankness and love appear'd in Stafford's face,
And all her trouble to delight give place.

Twice made the guest an effort to sustain
Her feelings, twice resumed her seat in vain,

His years were forty
Composed his featur
His air important, ar
His dress became hi
The colour purple, a

ve how much he could afford;
reserved himself, he loved to see
enteous, and his neighbours free :
e friends he sat in solemn style,
soften'd to a sober smile;
ervant friends their reasons gave-
so vast would make the idlest grave:
h man to be of language free,
a incongruous as a singing tree :
their music, but the birds they shield
=g tribute for protection yield;
tree the tuneful choir defends,
merchant cheers his happy friends!"
ne town it was his chance to meet
dy, with a mind discreet;
life's decline, nor bloom of youth,
for maiden modesty and truth:
cool, in pious habits bred,

on lovers with a virgin's dread : rakes, and libertines were they, ess beauty their pursuit and prey; giants in the ancient times

ern lovers, and the same their crimes : e heard of her all-conquering charms, e fled to her defensive arms;

the tales her maiden aunt had told,
-like, was motionlike and cold;
er of love, like that Pygmalion pray'd,
d stone became the yielding maid-
change in this chaste nymph ensued,
to stone the breathing flesh and blood:
youth described his wounded heart,

to rob her, and she scorn'd his art;
of raptures once presumed to speak.
ning maids he thought them fond and
k ;

a worthy man his hopes display
in words, and beg a yes or nay,
deserve an answer just and plain,
ation only moved disdain-
friends object not, come again"

ur brave lover, though he liked the face,
t a feature-dwelt not on a grace;
simplest terms declared his state,
'd man, who wish'd a virtuous mate;
d neglect, and was compell'd to trust
Is wasteful, idle, or unjust;
they not the trusted stores destroy,
ey could not help him to enjoy,
her person and her prudence blest,
ould prosper, and his soul have rest :
be his?"-"Why that was much to say;
1 consider he a while might stay;
his manners, and believed his word;
t flatter, flattery she abhorr'd:

r happy lot in peace to dwell-
ange make better what was now so well?
would ponder."-"This," he said, '

id,"

"was

Of vessels freighted with abundant stores,

Of rooms whose treasures press'd the groaning
floors;

And he of clerks and servants could display
A little army, on a public day.

Was this a man like needy bard to speak
Of balmy lip, bright eye, or rosy cheek?

The sum appointed for her widow'd state,
Fix'd by her friend, excited no debate ;
Then the kind lady gave her hand and heart,
And, never finding, never dealt with art:
In his engagements she had no concern;
He taught her not, nor had she wish to learn:
On him in all occasions she relied,

His word her surety, and his worth her pride.
When ship was launch'd, and merchant Paul had
share,

A bounteous feast became the lady's care;
Who then her entry to the dinner made,
In costly raiment, and with kind parade.
Call'd by this duty on a certain day,
And robed to grace it in a rich array,
Forth from her room with measured step she

came,

Proud of th' event, and stately look'd the dame :
The husband met her at his study-door-
"This way, my love-one moment and no more:
A trifling business-you will understand,
The law requires that you affix your hand;
But first attend, and you shall learn the cause
Why forms like these have been prescribed by
laws."

Then from his chair a man in black arose,

And with much quickness hurried off his prose :
That" Ellen Paul the wife, and so forth, freed
From all control, her own the act and deed,
And forasmuch"-said she, "I've no distrust,
For he that asks it is discreet and just;
Our friends are waiting-where am I to sign?
There!--Now be ready when we meet to
dine."

This said, she hurried off in great delight,
The ship was launch'd, and joyful was the night.
Now, says the reader, and in much disdain,
This serious merchant was a rogue in grain;
A treacherous wretch, an artful, sober knave,
And ten times worse for manners cool and grave,
And she devoid of sense, to set her hand
To scoundrel deeds she could not understand.
Alas! 'tis true; and I in vain had tried
To soften crime, that cannot be denied ;
And might have labour'd many a tedious verse
The latent cause of mischief to rehearse :
Be it confess'd, that long, with troubled look,
This trader view'd a huge accompting book
(His former marriage for a time delay'd
The dreaded hour, the present lent its aid ;)
But he too clearly saw the evil day,
And put the terror, by deceit, away;

g'd to know when she had fix'd her Thus by connecting with his sorrows crime,

1