<56/) ANNUAL REGISTER, 1812. 



Thus as he sate, absorb'd in all the care 

 And all the hope that anxious fathers share, 

 A Friend abruptly to his presence brought, 

 With trembling hand, the subject of his thought; 

 Whom he had found aiflictedand subdued '" ' 

 By hunger, sorrow, cold, and solitude. 



Silent he enter'd the forgotten room, 

 As ghostly forms may be conceiv'd to come ; 

 With sorrow-shrunken face and hair upright. 

 He look'd dismay, neglect, despair, affright; 

 But, dead to comfort, and on misery thrown. 

 His Parent's loss he felt not, nor his own. 



The good Man, struck with horror, cried aloud. 

 And drew around him an astonish'd crowd ; 

 The sons and Servants to the Father ran. 

 To share the feelings of the g;riev'd old rnan : 



* Our Brother, speak !' they all exclaim'd ; * explain 

 ' Thy grief, thy suffering :' — but they ask'd in vain : 

 The Friend told all he knew ; and all was known. 

 Save the sad causes whence the ills had grown : 

 But, if obscure the cause, they all agreed 

 From rest and kindness must the cure proceed : 

 And he was cur'd ; for quiet, love, and care, 

 Strove with the gloom, and broke on the despair ; 

 Yet slow their progress, and, as vapours move 

 Dense and reluctant from the wint'ry grove ; 

 All is confusion till the morning light 

 Gives the dim scene obscurely to the sight; 

 More and yet more defin'd the trunks appear. 

 Till the wild prospect stands distinct and clear ; — 

 So the dark mind of our young Poet grew 

 Clear and sedate; the dreadful mist withdrew; 

 And he resembled that bleak wint'ry scene, 

 Sad, though unclouded ; dismal, though serene. 



At times he utter'd, " What a dream was mine ! 

 *' And whf't a prospect ! glorious and divine ! 

 " Oh ! in that room, and on that night to see 

 ** Those looks, that sweetness beaming all on me ; 

 ** That syren-flattery — and to send me then 

 " Hope-rais'd and soften'd to those heartless men ; 

 " That dark-brow'd stern Director pleas'd to show 

 *' Knowledge of subjects I disdain'd to know ; 

 *• Cold and controlling — but 'tis gone, 'tis past, 

 "I had my trifal, and have peace at last." 



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