If pride were his, 'twas not their vulgar pride
Who, in their base contempt, the great deride;
Nor pride in learning,-though my Clerk agreed,
If fate should call him, Ashford might succeed;
Nor pride in rustic skill, although we knew,
None his superior, and his equals few :-
But if that spirit in his soul had place,
It was the jealous pride that shuns disgrace;
A pride in honest fame, by virtue gain'd,
In sturdy boys to virtuous labours train'd;
Pride in the power that guards his country's coast,
And all that Englishmen enjoy and boast;
Pride, in a life that slander's tongue defied,—
In fact a noble passion, misnamed Pride.

He had no party's rage, no sect'ry's whim:
Christian and countrymen was all with him:
True to his church he came; no Sunday-shower
Kept him at home in that important hour;
Nor his firm feet could one persuading sect,
By the strong glare of their new light direct ;-
"On hope, in mine own sober light, I gaze,
But should be blind, and lose it, in your blaze."

In times severe, when many a sturdy swain
Felt it his pride, his comfort, to complain;
Isaac their wants would soothe, his own would hide
And feel in that his comfort and his pride.

At length he found, when seventy years were run,
His strength departed, and his labour done;
When he, save honest fame, retain'd no more,
But lost his wife, and saw his children poor :
'Twas then, a spark of-say not discontent-
Struck on his mind, and thus he gave it vent :-

"Kind are your laws, ('tis not to be denied,)
That in yon House, for ruin'd age, provide,
And they are just ;-when young, we give you all,
And for assistance in our weakness call.-
Why then this proud reluctance to be fed,
To join your poor, and eat the parish-bread?
But yet I linger, loth with him to feed,
Who gains his plenty by the sons of need ;
He who, by contract, all your paupers took,
And gauges stomachs with an anxious look:
On some old master I could well depend;
See him with joy and thank him as a friend;
But ill on him, who doles the day's supply,
And counts our chances who at night may die :
Yet help me, Heav'n! and let me not complain
Of what I suffer, but my fate sustain."

Such were his thoughts, and so resign'd he grew ;
Daily he placed the Workhouse in his view!
But came not there, for sudden was his fate,
He dropp'd, expiring, at his cottage gate.

I feel his absence in the hours of prayer,
And view his seat and sigh for Isaac there;
I see no more those white locks thinly spread
Round the bald polish of that honour'd head;
No more that awful glance on playful wight,
Compell'd to kneel and tremble at the sight,
To fold his fingers, all in dread the while,
Till Mister Ashford soften'd to a smile;

No more that meek and suppliant look in prayer,
Nor the pure faith (to give it force), are there :-
But he is blest, and I lament no more

A wise good man contented to be poor.

SIR EUSTACE GREY.

1804-5.

GEORGE CRABBE.

Scene.-A MADHOUSE.

Persons.-VISITOR, PHYSICIAN, AND PATIENT.

"Veris miscens falsa."

SENECA, in Herc. furente.

"In the story of Sir Eustace Grey, an attempt is made to describe the wanderings of a mind first irritated by the consequences of error and misfortune, and afterwards soothed by a species of enthusiastic conversion, still keeping him insane: a task very difficult, and if the presumption of the attempt may find pardon, it will not be refused to the failure of the poet. It is said of our Shakespeare, respecting madness; 'In that circle none dare walk but he:'-yet be it granted to one, who dares not to pass the boundary fixed for common minds, at least to step near to the tremendous verge and form some idea of the terrors that are stalking in the interdicted space.”—Preface to first edition of Poems, 1807. GEORGE Crabbe.

(1834 Edition.)

VISITOR.

'LL know no more ;-the heart is torn

I'LL

By views of woe, we cannot heal; Long shall I see these things forlorn, And oft again their griefs shall feel, As each upon the mind shall steal; That wan projector's mystic style,

That lumpish idiot leering by, That peevish idler's ceaseless wile,

And that poor maiden's half-form'd smile,

While struggling for the full-drawn sigh !—

I'll know no more.

PHYSICIAN.

-Yes, turn again;

Then speed to happier scenes thy way,

When thou hast view'd what yet remain,

The ruins of Sir Eustace Grey,

The sport of madness, misery's prey:

But he will no historian need,

His cares, his crimes, will he display,
And show (as one from frenzy freed)
The proud lost mind, the rash-done deed.

That cell to him is Greyling Hall :

Approach; he'll bid thee welcome there; Will sometimes for his servant call,

And sometimes point the vacant chair; He can, with free and easy air,

Appear attentive and polite;

Can veil his woes in manners fair,

And pity with respect excite.

PATIENT.

Who comes?-Approach !-'tis kindly done :

My learn'd physician, and a friend,

Their pleasures quit, to visit one
Who cannot to their ease attend,'
Nor joys bestow, nor comforts lend,
As when I lived so blest, so well,
And dreamt not I must soon contend
With those malignant powers of hell.

PHYSICIAN.

"Less warmth, Sir Eustace, or we go.”—

:

PATIENT.

See! I am calm as infant-love, A very child, but one of woe

Whom you should pity, not reprove:But men at ease, who never strove With passions wild, will calmly show, How soon we may their ills remove, And masters of their madness grow.

Some twenty years, I think, are gone,– (Time flies, I know not how, away,) The sun upon no happier shone,

Nor prouder man, than Eustace Grey. Ask where you would, and all would say, The man admired and praised of all, By rich and poor, by grave and gay, Was the young lord of Greyling Hall. Yes! I had youth and rosy health; Was nobly form'd, as man might be; For sickness, then, of all my wealth, I never gave a single fee: The ladies fair, the maidens free,

Were all accustom'd then to say, Who would a handsome figure see Should look upon Sir Eustace Grey. He had a frank and pleasant look,

A cheerful eye and accent bland; His very speech and manner spoke

The generous heart, the open hand; About him all was gay or grand,

He had the praise of great and small; He bought, improved, projected, plann'd, And reign'd a prince at Greyling Hall.