The Anglican Friar, and the Fish which he Took by Hook and by Crook. active 19th century Novice
month or two they stay there, I believe.'
"How vain is Hope's, how frail is Pleasure's charm!
Anticipation well may boast the palm;
While Happiness, like spectre in disguise,
Enchants, and then for ever from us flies.
"Thus was the dream of months,—yea years, destroyed,
And nought was left me but a restless void,
To furnish which I studied ev'ry cause
Of mortal Pain, and Chemistry's fixed laws;
But though I learnt the broken limb to bind
I found no ease for my distracted mind.
But much too long upon these scenes I dwell,
Excuse me, sir, for ev'ry word I tell
Seems like an echo from the ruined past,
Fresh as if Time this moment wound the blast.
"My friends returned a week before the day
Fixed as the utmost limit of my stay,
For all th' arrangements had been made for me
To practise sciences and surgery.
But greatly had Rosina changed since I
In sadness wished her that last, long good-bye.
The bounding step I loved so much to greet
Was stately now, while for those kisses sweet
(Which would such rapture in my bosom wake)
She proffered me her tiny hand to shake.
I rather disappointed felt, I own,
To find the girl to womanhood had grown,
But yet I would not any charm displace;
For each she wore with such bewitching grace,
That soon I liked her gentleness far more
Than e'en the lively mirth I loved before.
But though her timid manner fled away
(Like mist at morning 'fore the sunny ray),
My suit, alas! progressed but little way,
For diffidence my lips would ever seal
When most I wished my passion to reveal;
From the dread fear the spell might thus be broke
My trembling voice grew dumb and never spoke.
A hint I from my guardian too received.
'My boy,' said he, 'I hope you'll not be grieved,
But be advised, at this your dawn of life,
To start your course unburdened with a wife;
Not that I doubt the value of your choice,
Your conduct ever makes my heart rejoice.
Still wait a while until your skill and fame
Shall add a doctor's title to your name;
You'll then have seen the ways, and struggles, too,
Of this vain world (placed in their proper view),
And p'rhaps may many anxious moments save,
The heart, that, loving loves unto the grave.'
"Time crept—I toiled in spite of failing strength,
And through th' examination passed at length
With honours crowned, when as my health waxed low,
I homeward wished for some few weeks to go.
I fixed the day, but did not let them know,
That unexpected I myself might show.
But on the morn at eve of starting came
A letter, signed with her loved mother's name;
Which told my heart how vainly passion raged—
Rosina to another was engaged.
What then took place I've scarcely power to say,
For sense and reason nearly broke away,
While I had surely cleft the foaming sea
Had not my man rushed forth and hindered me;
For all that night, in spite of wind and rain,
I paced the deck to cool my burning brain.
But ere again the vessel touched the land
I calmer grew, and gained my self-command;
And gave him orders never to make known
The great excitement I had lately shown.
"Arrived at home I entered quietly,
And found my uncle in deep reverie;
So much absorbed he did not notice me.
I sat me down. 'Poor fellow!' muttered he,
'This is indeed an unexpected blow—
I never dreamt that matters could end so;
It will affect him heavily, I fear—
O that I could his wounded spirit cheer!'
'Uncle,' I rising said, 'behold, I'm here!'
He started, grasped my hand, while swift a tear,
Pursued by others, bounded off his cheek;
His swelling heart appeared too full to speak.
But soon recov'ring from the first surprise,
To calm my grief he unavailing tries;
(For age and youth behold with diff'ring eyes,
And one as well a vessel might advise
Straight on unmoved its chart-drawn course to keep,
When fiercely battling with the raging deep,
As tell a youthful heart, by anguish torn,
To calm its poignant grief, and cease to mourn.)
"I struggled hard but long could not sustain,
For cold and fever seized my care-worn brain;
My health, by over-study much impaired,
For this encounter was but ill prepared.
For weeks unconscious in this state I lay,
My life, despaired of, nearly sank away;
Until sweet Hope appeared with healing beam,
And I awoke as from a pleasant dream.
I dreamt my love had watched my bed beside,
And nursed me till within her arms I died.
A step approached—oh! could that form be she?
I closed my eyes and slumb'ring seemed to be;
What would I not have given then to tell!
But yet I would not, dared not, break the spell.
'Have I been wise?' a voice beside me said,
And gently smoothed the pillow 'neath my head;
'Have I done right, in giving thus away
The heart he deemed was his until that day?
Oh, cruel fate! my