Such was the speech:  it struck upon the ear
Like sudden thunder none expect to hear. 
He saw men’s wonder with a manly pride,
And gravely smiled at guest electrified. 
“A farmer this!” they said, “Oh! let him seek
That place where he may for his country speak;
On some great question to harangue for hours,
While speakers, hearing, envy nobler powers!”
   Wisdom like this, as all things rich and rare,
Must be acquired with pains, and kept with care;
In books he sought it, which his friends might view,
When their kind host the guarding curtain drew. 
There were historic works for graver hours,
And lighter verse to spur the languid powers;
There metaphysics, logic there had place;
But of devotion not a single trace —
Save what is taught in Gibbon’s florid page,
And other guides of this inquiring age. 
There Hume appear’d, and near a splendid book
Composed by Gay’s “good lord of Bolingbroke:” 
With these were mix’d the light, the free, the vain,
And from a corner peep’d the sage Tom Paine;
Here four neat volumes Chesterfield were named,
For manners much and easy morals famed;
With chaste Memoirs of females, to be read
When deeper studies had confused the head. 
   Such his resources, treasures where he sought
For daily knowledge till his mind was fraught: 
Then, when his friends were present, for their use
He would the riches he had stored produce;
He found his lamp burn clearer when each day
He drew for all he purposed to display;
For these occasions forth his knowledge sprung,
As mustard quickens on a bed of dung: 
All was prepared, and guests allow’d the praise
For what they saw he could so quickly raise. 
   Such this new friend; and when the year came round,
The same impressive, reasoning sage was found: 
Then, too, was seen the pleasant mansion graced
With a fair damsel—­his no vulgar taste;
The neat Rebecca—­sly, observant, still,
Watching his eye, and waiting on his will;
Simple yet smart her dress, her manners meek,
Her smiles spoke for her, she would seldom speak: 
But watch’d each look, each meaning to detect,
And (pleased with notice) felt for all neglect. 
   With her lived Gwyn a sweet harmonious life,
Who, forms excepted, was a charming wife: 
The wives indeed, so made by vulgar law,
Affected scorn, and censured what they saw,
And what they saw not, fancied; said ’twas sin,
And took no notice of the wife of Gwyn: 
But he despised their rudeness, and would prove
Theirs was compulsion and distrust, not love;
“Fools as they were! could they conceive that rings
And parsons’ blessings were substantial things?”
They answer’d “Yes;” while he contemptuous spoke
Of the low notions held by simple folk;
Yet, strange that anger in a man so wise
Should from the notions of these fools arise;
Can they so vex us, whom we so despise?