blessing sought without the hand;
For still he felt alive the lambent flame,
And offer’d her a home,—­and home she came. 
There, though her higher friendships lived no more,
She loved to speak of what she shared before — “Of the dear Lucy, heiress of the hall, — Of good Sir Peter,—­of their annual ball, And the fair countess!—­Oh! she loved them all!” The humbler clients of her friend would stare, The knowing smile,—­but neither caused her care; She brought her spirits to her humble state, And soothed with idle dreams her frowning fate.

---------------------

“Ten summers pass’d?, and how was Clelia then?” —
Alas! she suffer d’ in this trying ten; The pair had parted:  who to him attend,
Must judge the nymph unfaithful to her friend; But who on her would equal faith bestow, Would think him rash,—­and surely she must know. 
Then as a matron Clelia taught a school,
But nature gave not talents fit for rule: 
Yet now, though marks of wasting years were seen,
Some touch of sorrow, some attack of spleen;
Still there was life, a spirit quick and gay,
And lively speech and elegant array. 
The Griffin’s landlord these allured so far,
He made her mistress of his heart and bar;
He had no idle retrospective whim,
Till she was his, her deeds concern’d not him: 
So far was well,—­but Clelia thought not fit
(In all the Griffin needed) to submit: 
Gaily to dress and in the bar preside,
Soothed the poor spirit of degraded pride;
But cooking, waiting, welcoming a crew
Of noisy guests, were arts she never knew: 
Hence daily wars, with temporary truce,
His vulgar insult, and her keen abuse;
And as their spirits wasted in the strife,
Both took the Griffin’s ready aid of life;
But she with greater prudence—­Harry tried
More powerful aid, and in the trial died; Yet drew down vengeance:  in no distant time, Th’ insolvent Griffin struck his wings sublime; — Forth from her palace walk’d th’ ejected queen, And show’d to frowning fate a look serene; Gay spite of time, though poor, yet well attired, Kind without love, and vain if not admired.

-----------------------

Another term is past; ten other years
In various trials, troubles, views, and fears: 
Of these some pass’d in small attempts at trade;
Houses she kept for widowers lately made;
For now she said, “They’ll miss th’ endearing friend,
And I’ll be there the soften’d heart to bend:” 
And true a part was done as Clelia plann’d —
The heart was soften’d, but she miss’d the hand;
She wrote a novel, and Sir Denys said
The dedication was the best he read;
But Edgeworths, Smiths, and Radcliffes so engross’d
The public ear, that all her pains were lost. 
To keep a toy-shop was attempt the last,
There too she fail’d, and schemes and hopes were past. 
   Now friendless, sick, and old, and wanting bread,
The first-born tears of fallen pride were shed —