So judged the husband, and with judgment true, For neither yet the guilt or danger knew.

What now remain'd? but they again should play Th' accustom'd game, and walk th' accustom'd way; With careless freedom should converse or read, And the Friend's absence neither fear nor heed: But rather now they seem'd confused, constrain'd; Within their room still restless they remain'd, And painfully they felt, and knew each other pain'd.Ah, foolish men! how could ye thus depend, One on himself, the other on his friend?

The Youth with troubled eye the lady saw,
Yet felt too brave, too daring to withdraw;
While she, with tuneless hand the jarring keys
Touching, was not one moment at her ease:
Now would she walk, and call her friendly guide,
Now speak of rain, and cast her cloke aside,
Seize on a book, unconscious what she read,
And restless still to new resources fled;

Then laugh'd aloud, then tried to look serene;
And ever changed, and every change was seen.

Painful it is to dwell on deeds of shame· The trying day was past, another came; The third was all remorse, confusion, dread, And (all too late!) the fallen hero fled.

Then felt the Youth, in that seducing time, How feebly Honour guards the heart from crime:

Small is his native strength; man needs the stay,
The strength imparted in the trying day;
For all that Honour brings against the force
Of headlong passion, aids its rapid course;
Its slight resistance but provokes the fire,
As wood-work stops the flame, and then conveys it
higher.

The Husband came; a wife by guilt made bold Had, meeting, soothed him, as in days of old; But soon this fact transpired; her strong distress, And his Friend's absence, left him nought to guess.

Still cool, though grieved, thus prudence bade him write

"I cannot pardon, and I will not fight; "Thou art too poor a culprit for the laws, "And I too faulty to support my cause: "All must be punish'd; I must sigh alone, At home thy victim for her guilt atone; "And thou, unhappy! virtuous now no more, "Must loss of fame, peace, purity deplore; "Sinners with praise will pierce thee to the heart, "And saints deriding, tell thee what thou art."

Such was his fall; and Edward, from that time, Felt in full force the censure and the crimeDespised, ashamed; his noble views before, And his proud thoughts, degraded him the more: Should he repent—would that conceal his shame? Could peace be his? It perished with his fame:

Himself he scorn'd, nor could his crime forgive;
He fear'd to die, yet felt ashamed to live:
Grieved, but not contrite was his heart; oppress'd
Not broken; not converted, but distress'd;
He wanted will to bend the stubborn knee,
He wanted light the cause of ill to see,

To learn how frail is man, how humble then should be;

For faith he had not, or a faith too weak
To gain the help that humbled sinners seek;
Else had he pray'd—to an offended God
His tears had flown a penitential flood;

Of mercy

Though far astray, he would have heard the call
"Come! return, thou prodigal ;"
Then, though confused, distress'd, ashamed, afraid,
Still had the trembling penitent obey'd;
Though faith had fainted, when assail'd by fear,
Hope to the soul had whisper'd, "Persevere!"
Till in his Father's house an humbled guest,
He would have found forgiveness, comfort, rest.

But all this joy was to our Youth denied
By his fierce passions, and his daring pride;
And shame and doubt impell'd him in a course,

Once so abhorr'd, with unresisted force.

Proud minds and guilty, whom their crimes oppress,

Fly to new crimes for comfort and redress;

So found our fallen Youth a short relief

In wine, the opiate guilt applies to grief,-
From fleeting mirth that o'er the bottle lives,
From the false joy its inspiration gives;

And from associates pleased to find a friend,
With powers to lead them, gladden, and defend,
In all those scenes where transient ease is found,
For minds whom sins oppress, and sorrows wound.

Wine is like anger; for it makes us strong, Blind and impatient, and it leads us wrong; The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error long : Thus led, thus strengthen'd, in an evil cause, For folly pleading, sought the Youth applause; Sad for a time, then eloquently wild,

He gaily spoke as his companions smiled; Lightly he rose, and with his former grace Proposed some doubt, and argued on the case; Fate and fore-knowledge were his favourite themes— How vain man's purpose, how absurd his schemes: "Whatever is, was ere our birth decreed; "We think our actions from ourselves proceed, "And idly we lament th' inevitable deed; "It seems our own, but there's a power above "Directs the motion, nay, that makes us move; "Nor good nor evil can you beings name, “Who are but rooks and castles in the game ; "Superior natures with their puppets play, "Till, bagg'd or buried, all are swept away."

Such were the notions of a mind to ill
Now prone, but ardent, and determined still :
Of joy now eager, as before of fame,
And screen'd by folly when assail'd by shame,
Deeply he sank; obey'd each passion's call,
And used his reason to defend them all.

Shall I proceed, and step by step relate
The odious progress of a Sinner's fate?
No-let me rather hasten to the time
(Sure to arrive!) when misery waits on crime.

With Virtue, prudence fled; what Shore possess'd Was sold, was spent, and he was now distress'd: And Want, unwelcome stranger, pale and wan, Met with her haggard looks the hurried man; His pride felt keenly what he must expect From useless pity and from cold neglect.

Struck by new terrors, from his friends he fled,
And wept his woes upon a restless bed;
Retiring late, at early hour to rise,

With shrunken features, and with bloodshot eyes
If sleep one moment closed the dismal view,
Fancy her terrors built upon the true :
And night and day had their alternate woes,
That baffled pleasure, and that mock'd repose;
Till to despair and anguish was consign'd
The wreck and ruin of a noble mind.

Now seized for debt, and lodged within a jail,
He tried his friendships, and he found them fail
Then fail'd his spirits, and his thoughts were all
Fix'd on his sins, his sufferings, and his fall:
His ruffled mind was pictured in his face,
Once the fair seat of dignity and grace:
Great was the danger of a man so prone
To think of madness, and to think alone;