Who, as possessing much, would much expert,
Or both, for ever, from his love reject: 
Why then offence to one so powerful give,
Who (for their comfort) had not long to live? 
   With this poor prospect the deluded maid,
In words confiding, was indeed betray’d;
And, soon as terrors in her bosom rose,
The hero fled; they hinder’d his repose. 
Deprived of him, she to a parent’s breast
Her secret trusted, and her pains impress’d;
Let her to town (so prudence urged) repair,
To shun disgrace, at least to hide it there;
But ere she went, the luckless damsel pray’d
A chosen friend might lend her timely aid: 
“Yes! my soul’s sister, my Eliza, come,
Hear her last sigh, and ease thy Anna’s doom.” 
“’Tis a fool’s wish,” the angry father cried,
But, lost in troubles of his own, complied;
And dear Eliza to her friend was sent,
T’indulge that wish, and be her punishment. 
The time arrived, and brought a tenfold dread;
The time was past, and all the terror fled;
The infant died; the face resumed each charm,
And reason now brought trouble and alarm. 
   Should her Eliza—­no! she was too just,
“Too good and kind—­but ah! too young to trust.” 
Anna return’d, her former place resumed,
And faded beauty with now grace re-bloom’d;
And if some whispers of the past were heard,
They died innoxious, as no cause appear’d;
But other cares on Anna’s bosom press’d,
She saw her father gloomy and distress’d;
He died o’erwhelmed with debt, and soon was shed
The filial sorrow o’er a mother dead: 
She sought Eliza’s arms—­that faithful friend was wed;
Then was compassion by the countess shown,
And all th’ adventures of her life are known. 
   And now, beyond her hopes—­no longer tried
By slavish awe—­she lived a Yoeman’s bride;
Then bless’d her lot, and with a grateful mind
Was careful, cheerful, vigilant, and kind: 
The gentle husband felt supreme delight,
Bless’d by her joy, and happy in her sight;
He saw with pride in every friend and guest
High admiration and regard express’d: 
With greater pride, and with superior joy,
He look’d exulting on his first-born boy;
To her fond breast the wife her infant strain’d,
Some feelings utter’d, some were not explain’d;
And she enraptured with her treasure grew,
The sight familiar, but the pleasure new. 
   Yet there appear’d within that tranquil state
Some threat’ning prospect of uncertain fate;
Between the married when a secret lies,
It wakes suspicion from enforced disguise: 
Still thought the Wife upon her absent friend,
With all that must upon her truth depend.
" There is no being in the world beside
Who can discover what that friend will hide: 
Who knew the fact, knew not my name or state,
Who these can tell cannot the fact relate;
But thou, Eliza, canst the whole impart,
And all my safety is thy generous heart.”