George H.—I will say nothing, but leave you to time and the care of a greater than I. We have exchanged our verse, let us now change our subject too, and walk homeward; for I trust you, this night, intend to make my roof happy in your presence, and the sun is sinking.
Lord H.—Yes, you know I am there to be introduced to my new sister, whom I hope to love, and win from her a sisterly regard in turn.
George H.—You, none can fail to regard; and for her, even as you love me, you must her, for we are one.
Lord H.—(smiling)—Indeed; two years wed, and say that.
George H.—Will your lordship doubt it? From your muse I took my first lesson.
******
| With a look, it seem’d denied |
| All earthly powers but hers, yet so |
| As if to her breath he did owe |
| This borrow’d life, he thus replied— |
| And shall our love, so far beyond |
| That low and dying appetite, |
| And which so chaste desires unite, |
| Not hold in an eternal bond? |
| O no, belov’d! I am most sure |
| Those virtuous habits we acquire, |
| As being with the soul entire, |
| Must with it evermore endure. |
| Else should our souls in vain elect; |
| And vainer yet were heaven’s laws |
| When to an everlasting cause |
| They gave a perishing effect. |
Lord H.—(sighing)—You recall a happy season, when my thoughts were as delicate of hue, and of as heavenly a perfume as the flowers of May.
