The Anglican Friar, and the Fish which he Took by Hook and by Crook. active 19th century Novice

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СКАЧАТЬ shall continue so, as long

      As they retain vitality."

      "And gladly I your offer take

      To dine, and hope your tale to make

      Subject of immortality.

      Then as in search of health I came,

      Your skill the wand'rer shall reclaim

      If he's in this locality."

      A beggar here accosted him

      And begged to drink his health.

      I smiled to hear this Irish whim,

      And pictured to myself

      The tattered man, and host so trim,

      As Poverty and Wealth.

      But though he could not say him nay,

      The honour did decline,—

      "The wretch has drunk his health away,

      And now he would drink mine."

      Methought a brighter smile bedecked

      The maiden's cheek when back I came;

      She certainly did not expect

      That he would bring me there again.

      But sometimes we ourselves deceive,

      As what we wish we oft believe.

      The dinner and the lady flown,

      We chatted o'er the wine.

      But though his glass he left alone,

      He would replenish mine.

      At length he told his history,

      And thus cleared up the mystery,

      Which clothed him like a spell.

      'Twas sad and touching though to hear

      The anguish past of many a year,

      Yet pleased his grief to tell

      He seemed, for cheerfully he spoke,

      Though oft a deep-drawn sigh forth broke

      From Sorrow's care-worn well.

      "This house above our heads," said he;

      "(Of late my uncle's property),

      Has been the family estate

      Longer than I can backward date.

      The orphan of a brother, I

      Resided here in days gone by,

      His table and his heart to share.

      Thus childhood passed without a care;

      At college then his kindness placed,

      And gladly my improvements traced.

      When, as he left the choice to me,

      A surgeon I resolved to be.

      "The portrait of this worthy man

      I'll sometime show, although I can

      But briefly on his virtues dwell;

      'Twould weary you were I to tell

      Of all the kindness shown to me,

      Since when an infant on his knee,

      Beside my father's dying bed,

      He promised to be mine instead.

      "A tall and well-formed man was he,

      Beloved for his humanity.

      Yea, oft he would so gen'rous be

      That some called it insanity.

      Still happily together we,

      Far from the empty vanity

      Of public care and worldly strife,

      Enjoyed a peaceful, quiet life,

      Without a wish to share or mix

      In gaiety or politics;

      Which were, he said, so fraught with tricks,

      Emoluments on self to fix.

      It made his spirit boil to see

      Their mercantile hypocrisy.

      But though this may at times be true,

      His must be a distorted view

      Of legislative law; yet still,

      How often proud Ambition will

      Stoop down to acts remote from praise,

      Himself above a foe to raise.

      "If harsh at times my uncle might

      By some be deemed, for what seemed right,

      Whate'er the cost, he would uphold,

      Though down his plans and wishes rolled

      Like sand-banks 'fore the rushing tide,

      When duty asked him to decide.

      Residing in this lovely spot,

      Our guests were few, yet cared we not,

      For he, in calculations deep,

      Would pass the day, and then would creep

      Aloft at night to watch the stars

      Revolving in their golden cars.

      But though so much engaged was he,

      To prove he ne'er neglected me,

      He lessons gave in Latin, Greek,

      And French, which he as well could speak,

      And fast, as a Parisian guide,

      For he had travelled far and СКАЧАТЬ