TAKING S.

CANTO III.

I.

"So on he went," as Satan did, we read

When first to visit earth 'twas his intent, Grumbling that he had been-he'd cause indeedFrom Heaven so very ungenteelly sent. But Tom, like Satan-though like Satan undone, Could find no guiltless Paradise in London.

II.

Takeall, though promisingly convalescent,

Tho' gathering strength with each succeeding day, Secure, remaining in a state quiescent,

Of being quite restored with brief delay: Was not yet strong, and so compell'd to leave her

Whom he had loved, it brought back all his fever.

III.

And to his chamber this again confined him,
A fortnight, or perhaps a little more,
For now Eliza was not near to mind him,

And lower were his spirits than before.

He mourn'd that slightingly he e'er could use her, And shuddered at the thought that he might lose her.

IV.

The moment, therefore, that he got about,
And ascertain'd he had a chance to live,
He sought her mother's cottage to find out
Again to woo his mistress to forgive.

In hopes the explanations he might offer
Would favour of his heart and hand the proffer.

V.

Lovely the opening day burst on his view,

When first beheld its earliest orient streak,

To him the drops of soft transparent dew

Seem'd tears on infant Morning's ruddy cheek; And oft he paused, to mark the Sun's young beam, Falling aslant upon the tranquil stream.

VI.

And still to pause the lingerer was compell'd,
And still he gazed with an admiring eye,
While in the rippling waters he beheld

All the reflected glories of the sky,

Through rising vapours, picturing as they pass,
A beauty's breathings on her looking-glass.

VII.

He gazed upon the angler, who prepared
Against the finny race terrific war;

He loitered to go forward ere he dared,

For thence he knew the cottage was not far; Tom knew it, for the waters there that roll'd He lately from his chamber could behold.

VIII.

Perceived the cot-it gave no trifling shock;
Perhaps 'twas joy, perhaps 'twas consternation;
But he approach'd, and gave a gentle knock,
Then waited in respectful trepidation;
And soon astonishment provoked a stare,
At hearing those he ask'd for were not there.

F

IX.

Few opportunities, undoubtedly,

He had remarks upon the house to make, I mean the outside, so he thought he 'd try

The next one, as perhaps, he might mistake. He did so, and the next one, 'till he tired, But gained not the intelligence desired.

X.

That which he heard from one and from another,

Led him, reluctantly, to this conclusion,

That when he left Eliza and her mother,

They fled to guard against a new intrusion ; Most anxious that no clue should there remain, To guide his steps to their abode again.

XI.

The day was nearly spent, and Tom chagrin'd
Look'd sorrowfully on the road to town,
When, gazing on the stream, he felt inclined
Himself and his anxieties to drown.

This thought, no doubt, was prompted by despair,
Though reason told 'twould save the Acton fare.