And now the sun is on her prospects set;— Leave her, and let us her distress explore, She heeds it not-she has been left before.
Come, John, I said,suppressing fear and doubt, | But while it raged her peace its ruin met, Walk on before, and let a lady out!— Lady! the wretch replied, with savage grin, Apply to him that let the lady in: What! you would go, I take it, to the Dean, And tell him what your ladyship has seen. When thus the fool exposed the knave, I saw
But whence we know not it was never sought; Their wandering mother left them, left her
The means of holding such a mind in awe, There were two lads call'd Shelley hither And gain my safety by his dread of law. Alas! I cried, I fear the Dean like you, For I transgress, and am in trouble too: If it be known that we are here, as sure As here we are we must the law endure: Each other's counsel therefore let us keep, And each steal homeward to our beds and Steal! said the ruffian's conscience-Well, | And, no one's kindred, seem'd beloved of all; All seem'd alliance by their deeds to prove, And loved the youths who could not claim their love.
Steal on, and let us to the door proceed: :- Yet, ere he moved, he stood awhile, and took Of my poor form a most alarming_look; But, hark! I cried, and he to move began,— Escape alone engaged the dreadful man: With eager hand I oped the ponderous door— The wretch rush'd by me, and was heard
So I escaped, and when my dreams came on, I check'd the madness by the thoughts of John:
Yet say I not what can or cannot be, But give the story of my ghost and me.
THERE was a widow in the village known To our good Squire, and he had favour shown By frequent bounty-She as usual came, And Richard saw the worn and weary frame, Pale cheek, and eye subdued, of her whose mind
Was grateful still, and glad a friend to find, Though to the world long since and all its hopes resign'd:
Her easy form, in rustic neatness clad, Was pleasing still! but she for ever sad. Deep is her grief? said Richard-Truly deep, And very still, and therefore seems to sleep; To borrow simile, to paint her woes, Theirs, like the river's motion, seems repose, Making no petty murmuring,-settled, slow, They never waste, they never overflow. Rachel is one of those for there are some Who look for nothing in their days to come, No good nor evil, neither hope nor fear, Nothing remains or cheerful or severe; One day is like the past, the year's sweet prime
Like the sad fall,-for Rachel heeds not time: Nothing remains to agitate her breast, Spent is the tempest, and the sky at rest;
And the boys throve and valiant men became : Handsome, of more than common size, and tall,
One was call'd James, the more sedate and grave, The other Robert-names their neighbours gave;
They both were brave, but Robert loved to
And meet his danger-James would rather
The dangerous trial, but whenever tried He all his spirit to the act applied. Robert would aid on any man bestow, James would his man and the occasion know; For that was quick and prompt-this tem- perate and slow. Robert would all things he desired pursue, James would consider what was best to do; All spoke of Robert as a man they loved, And most of James as valued and approved. Both had some learning: Robert his acquired By quicker parts, and was by praise inspired; James, as he was in his acquirements slow, Would learn the worth of what he tried to know.
In fact, this youth was generous-that was just;
The one you loved, the other you would trust: Yet him you loved you would for truth ap-
Such were the brothers—James had found his way
To Nether-Hall, and there inclined to stay; He could himself command, and therefore could obey:
He with the keeper took his daily round, A rival grew, and some unkindness found; But his superior farm'd! the place was void, And James guns, dogs, and dignity enjoy'd. Robert had scorn of service; he would be A slave to no man- an-happy were the free, And only they ;-by such opinions led, Robert to sundry kinds of trade was bred; Nor let us wonder if he sometimes made An active partner in a lawless trade;
With art insidious rival damsels strove To show how false his speech, how feign'd his love;
Fond of adventure, wanton as the wave, He loved the danger and the law to brave; But these were chance-adventures, hnown to few,- And though her heart another story told, Not that the hero cared what people knew. Her speech grew cautious, and her manner
The brothers met not often-When they met James talk'd of honest gains and scorn of debt,
Of virtuous labour, of a sober life, And what with credit would support a wife. But Robert answer'd-How can men advise Who to a master let their tongue and eyes? Whose words are not their own? whose foot and hand
Run at a nod, or act upon command? Who cannot eat or drink, discourse or play, Without requesting others that they may. Debt you would shun; but what advice to give
Who owe your service every hour you live! Let a bell sound, and from your friends you
Rachel had village fame, was fair and tall, And gain'd a place of credit at the Hall; Where James beheld her seated in that place, With a child's meekness, and an angel's face ; Her temper soft, her spirit firm, her words Simple and few as simple truth affords.
James could but love her, he at church had seen
The tall, fair maid, had met her on the green, Admiring always, nor surprised to find Her figure often present to his mind; But now he saw her daily, and the sight Gave him new pleasure and increased delight.
But James, still prudent and reserved, though
The love he felt was love that would endure, Would wait awhile, observing what was fit. And meet, and right, nor would himself commit:
Then was he flatter'd,--James in time became Rich, both as slayer of the Baron's game, And as protector,—not a female dwelt In that demesne who had not feign'd or felt Regard for James; and he from all had praise Enough a young man's vanity to raise ; With all these pleasures he of course must part When Rachel reign'd sole empress of his heart.
He found that contracts could be made with | But still she found, though not without re
James, better taught, in confidence declared His grief for what his guilty brother dared: He sigh'd to think how near he was akin To one reduced by godless men to sin; Who, being always of the law in dread, To other crimes were by the danger led— And crimes with like excuse-The smuggler cries,
What guilt is his who pays for what he buys?
The poacher questions, with perverted mind, Were not the gifts of heaven for all design'd? This cries, I sin not-take not till I pay ;That, My own hand brought down my proper prey:
And while to such fond arguments they cling, How fear they God? how honour they the king?
Such men associate, and each other aid, Till all are guilty, rash, and desperate made; Till to some lawless deed the wretches fly, And in the act, or for the acting, die.
Thus they proceeded, till a winter came, When the stern keeper told of stolen game: Throughout the woods the poaching dogs had been,
And from him nothing should the robbers screen, From him and law, he would all hazards run,
Nor spare a poacher, were his brother one— Love, favour, interest, tie of blood should fail, Till vengeance bore him bleeding to the jail. Poor Rachel shudder'd, — smuggling she could name
Without confusion, for she felt not shame; But poachers were her terror, and a wood Which they frequented had been mark❜d by blood;
And though she thought her Robert was
In better thoughts, yet could she not be sure.
James now was urgent,-it would break his heart With hope, with her, and with such views to part,
When one so wicked would her hand possess, And he a brother!-that was his distress, And must be hers-She heard him, and she
Looking in doubt,—but nothing she replied. There was a generous feeling in her mind, That told her this was neither good nor kind: James caused her terror, but he did no moreHer love was now as it had been before.
Their traffic fail'd, and the adventurous crew | Brave, kind, and generous, tender, constant, No more their profitless attempts renew: Dig they will not, and beg they might in
Had they not pride,and what can then remain? Now was the game destroy'd, and not an hare Escaped at least the danger of the snare; Woods of their feather'd beauty were bereft, The beauteous victims of the silent theft; The well-known shops received a large supply,
That they who could not kill at least might buy. James was enraged, enraged his lord, and both Confirm'd their threatening with a vengeful oath:
Fresh aid was sought,—and nightly on the
lands Walk'd on their watch the strong, determined bands:
Pardon was offer'd, and a promised pay To him who would the desperate gang betray. Nor fail'd the measure, on a certain night A few were seized the rest escaped by flight;
Yet they resisted boldly ere they fled, And blows were dealt around, and blood was shed;
Two groaning helpers on the earth were laid, When more arrived the lawful cause to aid: Then four determined men were seized and bound,
And Robert in this desperate number found: In prison fetter'd, he deplored his fate, And cursed the folly he perceived too late. James was a favourite with his lord, - the zeal
He show'd was such as masters ever feel: If he for vengeance on a culprit cried, Or if for mercy, still his lord complied: And now, 'twas said, he will for mercy plead, For his own brother's was the guilty deed: True, the hurt man is in a mending way, But must be crippled to his dying day.
And he must die—then will I perish too! A thousand acts in every age will prove Women are valiant in a cause they love; If fate the favour'd swain in danger place, They heed not danger-perils they embrace; They dare the world's contempt, they brave their name's disgrace;
They on the ocean meet its wild alarms, They search the dungeon with extended arms; The utmost trial of their faith they prove, And yield the lover to assert their love.
James knew his power- his feelings were not nice
Mercy he sold, and she must pay the price: If his good lord forbore to urge their fate, And he the utmost of their guilt to state, The felons might their forfeit lives redeem, And in their country's cause regain esteem; But never more that man, whom he had shame To call his brother, must she see or name.
Rachel was meek, but she had firmness too, And reason'd much on what she ought to do: In Robert's place, she knew what she should choose
But life was not the thing she fear'd to lose: She knew that she could not their contract break,
Nor for her life a new engagement make; But he was man, and guilty,—death so near Might not to his as to her mind appear; And he might wish, to spare that forfeit life, The maid he loved might be his brother's wife,
Although that brother was his bitter foe, And he must all the sweets of life forego.
This would she try,-intent on this alone, She could assume a calm and settled tone: She spake with firmness-I will Robert see, Know what he wishes, and what I must be;
Now James had vow'd the law should take For James had now discover'd to the maid
He would not stay it, if he did not force; He could his witness, if he pleased, withdraw, Or he could arm with certain death the law: This he attested to the maid, and true, If this he could not, yet he much could do. How suffer'd then that maid, no thought she had,
No view of days to come, that was not sad; As sad as life with all its hopes resign'd, As sad as ought but guilt can make mankind. With bitter grief the pleasures she review'd Of early hope, with innocence pursued, When she began to love, and he was fond and good: He now must die, she heard from every tongue-
Die, and so thoughtless! perish, and so young!
His inmost heart, and how he must be paid, If he his lord would soften, and would hide The facts that must the culprit's fate decide. Go not, he said,-for she her full intent Proclaim'd-To go she purposed, and she
She took a guide,and went with purpose stern The secret wishes of her friend to learn.
She saw him fetter'd, full of grief, alone, Still as the dead, and he suppress'd a groan At her appearance Now she pray'd for strength;
And the sad couple could converse at length It was a scene that shook her to repeat. Life fought with love, both powerful, and both sweet.
The day appointed for the trial near He view'd with shame, and not unmix'd with fear,-
Wilt thon die, Robert, or preserve thy life ? | Robert, when death no longer was in view, Shall I be thine own maid, or James's wife? Scorn'd what was done, but could not this His wife !—No!--Never will I thee resign- No, Rachel, no!—Then am I ever thine; I know thee rash and guilty, but to thee I pledged my vow, and thine will ever be : Yet think again,—the life that God has lent Is thine, but not to cast away,-Consent, If 'tis thy wish; for this I made my way To thy distress - Command, and I obey. Perhaps my brother may have gain'd thy heart!-
Then why this visit, if I wish'd to part? Was it, ah, man ungrateful! wise to make Effort like this, to hazard for thy sake A spotless reputation, and to be
A suppliant to that stern man for thee? But I forgive,-thy spirit has been tried, And thou art weak, but still thou must decide. I ask'd thy brother, James, wouldst thou command,
Without the loving heart, the obedient hand?
I ask'd thee, Robert, lover, canst thou part With this poor hand, when master of the
He answer'd Yes!-I tarry thy reply, Resign'd with him to live, content with thee to die.
Assured of this, with spirits low and tame, Here life so purchased there a death of
shame; Death once his merriment, but now his dread, And he with terror thought upon the dead: O! sure 'tis better to endure the care And pain of life, than go we know not where! And is there not the dreaded hell for sin, Or is it only this I feel within? That, if it lasted, no man would sustain, But would by any change relieve the pain: Forgive me, love! it is a lothsome thing To live not thine; but still this dreaded sting Of death torments me-I to nature cling- Go, and be his-but love him not, be sure- Ge, love him not, - and I will life endure : He, too, is mortal!—Rachel deeply sigh'd, But would no more converse: she had com- plied,
And was no longer free she was his
brother's bride. Farewell! she said, with kindness, but not fond, Feeling the pressure of the recent bond, And put her tenderness apart to give Advice to one who so desired to live: She then departed, join'd the attending guide, Reflected-wept-was sad-was satisfied.
James might deceive him; and, if not, the schemes
Of men may fail-Can I depend on James? · He might; for now the grievous price was paid-
James to the altar led the victim maid, And gave the trembling girl his faithful word For Robert's safety, and so gave my lord. But this, and all the promise hope could give, Gilded not life,-it was not joy to live; There was no smile in Rachel, nothing gay, The hours pass'd off, but never danced away. When drew the gloomy day for trial near There came a note to Robert-Banish fear!
With joy the troubled heart of Robert beat, He look'd around in freedom-in delight? For life was his, and liberty was sweet; O! no-his Rachel was another's right! Right!— has he then preserved me in the day But I no freedom at the slave's request, Of my distress?-He has the lovely pay! The price I paid shall then be repossess'd! Alas! her virtue and the law prevent, Force cannot be, and she will not consent;
James on her worth and virtue could de- But were that brother gone! - A brother?
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