With due success their honest labours crown’d;
Few were their losses, but although a few,
Walter was vex’d and somewhat peevish grew: 
“You put your trust in every pleading fool,”
Said he to William, and grew strange and cool. 
“Brother forbear,” he answer’d; “take your due,
Nor let my lack of caution injure you:” 
Half friends they parted,—­better so to close,
Than longer wait to part entirely foes. 
   Walter had knowledge, prudence, jealous care;
He let no idle views his bosom share;
He never thought nor felt for other men —
“Let one mind one, and all are minded then.” 
Friends he respected, and believed them just,
But they were men, and he would no man trust;
He tried and watch’d his people day and night, —
The good it harm’d not; for the bad ’twas right: 
He could their humours bear, nay disrespect,
But he could yield no pardon to neglect;
That all about him were of him afraid
“Was right,” he said—­“so should we be obey’d.” 
   These merchant-maxims, much good fortune too,
And ever keeping one grand point in view,
To vast amount his once small portion drew. 
   William was kind and easy; he complied
With all requests, or grieved when he denied;
To please his wife he made a costly trip,
To please his child he let a bargain slip;
Prone to compassion, mild with the distress’d,
He bore with all who poverty profess’d,
And some would he assist, nor one would he arrest. 
He had some loss at sea, bad debts at land,
His clerk absconded with some bills in hand,
And plans so often fail’d, that he no longer plann’d. 
To a small house (his brother’s) he withdrew,
At easy rent—­the man was not a Jew;
And there his losses and his cares he bore,
Nor found that want of wealth could make him poor. 
   No, he in fact was rich! nor could he move,
But he was follow’d by the looks of love;
All he had suffer’d, every former grief,
Made those around more studious in relief;
He saw a cheerful smile in every face,
And lost all thoughts of error and disgrace. 
 Pleasant it was to see them in their walk
Round their small garden, and to hear them talk;
Free are their children, but their love refrains
From all offence—­none murmurs, none complains;
Whether a book amused them, speech or play,
Their looks were lively, and their hearts were gay;
There no forced efforts for delight were made,
Joy came with prudence, and without parade;
Their common comforts they had all in view,
Light were their troubles, and their wishes few: 
Thrift made them easy for the coming day,
Religion took the dread of death away;
A cheerful spirit still ensured content,
And love smiled round them wheresoe’er they went. 
   Walter, meantime, with all his wealth’s increase,
Gain’d many points, but could not purchase peace;
When he withdrew from business for an hour,