164. ANNUAL REGISTER, 1812. 



And to the troubled feelinfjs terror gave, 



That made the once-dear friend, the sick'ning slave. 



" Was he forgotten ?" Thrice upon his ear 

 Struck the loud clock, yet no relief was near : 

 Each rattling carriage, and each thundering stroke 

 On the loud door, the dream of Fancy broke ; 

 Oft as a servant chanc'd the way to come, 

 " Brings he a message?" no ! he pass'd the room; 

 At length 'tis certain ; < Sir, you vcill attend 



• At twelve on Thursday.' Thus the day had end. 



Vex'd by these tedious hours of needles* pain, 

 John left the noble mansion with disdain ; 

 For there was something in that still, cold place. 

 That seeni'd to threaten and portend disgrace. 



Punctual again the modest rap declar'd 

 The Youth attended ; then was all prepar'd ; 

 For the same servant, by his Lord's command, 

 A paper oflFer'd to his trembling hand : 

 " No more !" he cried, " disdains he to afford 

 " One kind expression, one consoling word ?" 



With troubled spirit he began to read 

 That ' In the Church my Lord could not succeed; 

 Who had • to Peers of either kind applied, 



• And was with dignity and grace denied ; 



' While his own livings were by men possess'd, 



♦ Not likely in their chancels yet to rest ; 



* And therefore, all things weigh'd, (as he, my Lord, 



• Had done maturely, and he pledg'd his word), 



♦ Wisdom it seem'd for John to turn his view 



♦ To busier scenes, and bid the Church adieu !' 



Here gnev'd the Youth ; he felt his father's pride 

 Must with his own be shock'd and mortified ; 

 But, when he found his future comforts plac'd. 

 Where he, alas! conceiv'd himself disgrac'd — 

 In some appointment on the London Quays, 

 He bade farewell to honour and to ease : 

 His spirit fell, and, from that hour assur'd 

 How vain his dreams, he suffer'd and was cur'd. 



Our Poet hurried on, with wish to fly 

 From all mankind, to be conceal'd, and die. 



Alas! 



