He will not blush, that has a father's heart,

To take in childish plays a childish part;

But bends his sturdy back to any toy,

That youth takes pleasure in, to please his boy: Then why resign into a stranger's hand

A task as much within your own command,

That God, and nature, and your int'rest too,
Seem with one voice to delegate to you?

Why hire a lodging in a house unknown

551

For one, whose tend'rest thoughts all hover round

your own?

This second weaning, needless as it is,

How does it lac'rate both your heart and his!
Th' indented stick, that loses day by day

Notch after notch, till all are smooth'd away, 560
Bears witness, long ere his dismission come,

With what intense desire he wants his home.

But though the joys he hopes beneath your

roof

Bid fair enough to answer in the proof,

Harmless, and safe, and natʼral, as they are,
A dissappointment waits him even there:
Arriv'd, he feels an unexpected change,
He blushes, hangs his head, is shy and strange,
No longer takes, as once, with fearless ease,
His fav'rite stand between his father's knees,
But seeks the corner of some distant seat,
And eyes the door, and watches a retreat;
And, least familiar where he should be most,
Feels all his happiest privileges lost.

Alas, poor boy!-the natural effect

Of love by absence chill'd into respect,

Say, what accomplishments, at school acquir'd, Brings he, to sweeten fruits so undesir'd?

Thou well deserv'st an alienated son,

570

Unless thy conscious heart acknowledge-none;

None that, in thy domestic snug recess,

He had not made his own with more address,

581

Though some perhaps that shock thy feeling mind,

And better never learn'd, or left behind.

Add too, that, thus estrang'd, thou canst obtain By no kind arts his confidence again;

That here begins with most that long complaint
Of filial frankness lost, and love grown faint,

Which, oft neglected, in life's waning years
A parent pours into regardless ears.

Like caterpillars, dangling under trees

By slender threads, and swinging in the breeze, Which filthily bewray and sore disgrace

The boughs, in which are bred th' unseemly

race;

While ev'ry worm industriously weaves

And winds his web about the rivell'd leaves;

So num'rous are the follies, that annoy

The mind and heart of ev'ry sprightly boy;

Imaginations noxious and perverse,

Which admonition can alone disperse.

Th' encroaching nuisance asks a faithful hand,
Patient, affectionate, of high command,

590

600

To check the procreation of a breed

Sure to exhaust the plant, on which they feed.
'Tis not enough, that Greek or Roman page,
At stated hours, his freakish thoughts engage;
Ev'n in his pastimes he requires a friend,
To warn, and teach him safely to unbend;
O'er all his pleasures gently to preside,
Watch his emotions, and control their tide;
And levying thus, and with an easy sway,
A tax of profit from his very play,

T'impress a value, not to be eras'd,

610

On moments squander'd else, and running all to

waste.

And seems it nothing in a father's eye,

That unimprov'd those many moments fly?

And is he well content his son should find
No nourishment to feed his growing mind,
But conjugated verbs, and nouns declin'd?
For such is all the mental food purvey'd

By public hacknics in the schooling trade;

620

Who feed a pupil's intellect with store

Of syntax, truly, but with little more;

Dismiss their cares, when they dismiss their flock,
Machines themselves, and govern'd by a clock.
Perhaps a father, blest with any brains,

Would deem it no abuse, or waste of pains,
T'improve this diet, at no great expense,

With sav'ry truth and wholesome common sense;
To lead his son, for prospects of delight,

To some not steep, though philosophic, height,
Thence to exhibit to his wond'ring eyes

630

Yon circling worlds, their distance, and their size;

The moons of Jove, and Saturn's belted ball,

And the harmonious order of them all;
To show him in an insect or a flow'r
Such microscopic proof of skill and pow'r,
As, hid from ages past, God now displays

To combat atheists with in modern days;

To spread the Earth before him, and commend, With designation of the finger's end,

641