The Parish Register | Page 5

George Crabbe
so low,?She hears their murmurs as the waters flow:?And she too murmurs, and begins to find?The solemn wanderings of a wounded mind.?Visions of terror, views of woe succeed,?The mind's impatience, to the body's need;?By turns to that, by turns to this a prey,?She knows what reason yields, and dreads what madness may.
Next, with their boy, a decent couple came,?And call'd him Robert, 'twas his father's name;?Three girls preceded, all by time endear'd,?And future births were neither hoped nor fear'd:?Blest in each other, but to no excess,?Health, quiet, comfort, form'd their happiness;?Love all made up of torture and delight,?Was but mere madness in this couple's sight:?Susan could think, though not without a sigh,?If she were gone, who should her place supply;?And Robert, half in earnest, half in jest,?Talk of her spouse when he should be at rest:?Yet strange would either think it to be told,?Their love was cooling or their hearts were cold.?Few were their acres,--but, with these content,?They were, each pay-day, ready with their rent:?And few their wishes--what their farm denied,?The neighbouring town, at trifling cost, supplied.?If at the draper's window Susan cast?A longing look, as with her goods she pass'd,?And, with the produce of the wheel and churn,?Bought her a Sunday--robe on her return;?True to her maxim, she would take no rest,?Till care repaid that portion to the chest:?Or if, when loitering at the Whitsun-fair,?Her Robert spent some idle shillings there;?Up at the barn, before the break of day,?He made his labour for th' indulgence pay:?Thus both--that waste itself might work in vain -?Wrought double tides, and all was well again.
Yet, though so prudent, there were times of joy,?(The day they wed, the christening of the boy.)?When to the wealthier farmers there was shown?Welcome unfeign'd, and plenty like their own;?For Susan served the great, and had some pride?Among our topmost people to preside:?Yet in that plenty, in that welcome free,?There was the guiding nice frugality,?That, in the festal as the frugal day,?Has, in a different mode, a sovereign sway;?As tides the same attractive influence know,?In the least ebb and in their proudest flow;?The wise frugality, that does not give?A life to saving, but that saves to live;?Sparing, not pinching, mindful though not mean,?O'er all presiding, yet in nothing seen.
Recorded next a babe of love I trace!?Of many loves, the mother's fresh disgrace. -
"Again, thou harlot! could not all thy pain,?All my reproof, thy wanton thoughts restrain?"
"Alas! your reverence, wanton thoughts, I grant,?Were once my motive, now the thoughts of want;?Women, like me, as ducks in a decoy,?Swim down a stream, and seem to swim in joy.?Your sex pursue us, and our own disdain;?Return is dreadful, and escape is vain.?Would men forsake us, and would women strive?To help the fall'n, their virtue might revive."
For rite of churching soon she made her way,?In dread of scandal, should she miss the day: -?Two matrons came! with them she humbly knelt,?Their action copied and their comforts felt,?From that great pain and peril to be free,?Though still in peril of that pain to be;?Alas! what numbers, like this amorous dame,?Are quick to censure, but are dead to shame!
Twin-infants then appear; a girl, a boy,?Th' overflowing cup of Gerard Ablett's joy:?One had I named in every year that passed?Since Gerard wed! and twins behold at last!?Well pleased, the bridegroom smiled to hear--"A vine?Fruitful and spreading round the walls be thine,?And branch-like be thine offspring!"--Gerard then?Look'd joyful love, and softly said "Amen."?Now of that vine he'd have no more increase,?Those playful branches now disturb his peace:?Them he beholds around his tables spread,?But finds, the more the branch, the less the bread;?And while they run his humble walls about,?They keep the sunshine of good humour out.
Cease, man, to grieve! thy master's lot survey,?Whom wife and children, thou and thine obey;?A farmer proud, beyond a farmer's pride,?Of all around the envy or the guide;?Who trots to market on a steed so fine,?That when I meet him, I'm ashamed of mine;?Whose board is high upheaved with generous fare,?Which five stout sons and three tall daughters share.?Cease, man, to grieve, and listen to his care.
A few years fled, and all thy boys shall be?Lords of a cot, and labourers like thee:?Thy girls unportion'd neighb'ring youths shall lead?Brides from my church, and thenceforth thou art freed:?But then thy master shall of cares complain,?Care after care, a long connected train;?His sons for farms shall ask a large supply,?For farmers' sons each gentle miss shall sigh;?Thy mistress, reasoning well of life's decay,?Shall ask a chaise, and hardly brook delay;?The smart young cornet, who with so much grace?Rode in the ranks and betted at the race,?While the vex'd parent rails at deed so rash,?Shall d**n his luck, and stretch his hand for cash.?Sad troubles, Gerard! now pertain to thee,?When thy rich master seems from trouble free;?But 'tis one fate at different times assign'd,?And thou
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