he heard it said
That ancient men best pleased the prudent maid;
And true it was her ancient friends she loved,
Servants when old she favour’d and approved;
Age in her pious parents she revered,
And neighbours were by length of days endear’d;
But, if her husband too must ancient be,
The good old vicar found it was not he. 
   On Captain Bligh her mind in balance hung —
Though valiant, modest; and reserved, though young: 
Against these merits must defects be set —
Though poor, imprudent; and though proud, in debt: 
In vain the captain close attention paid;
She found him wanting, whom she fairly weigh’d. 
   Then came a youth, and all their friends agreed
That Edward Huntly was the man indeed;
Respectful duty he had paid awhile,
Then ask’d her hand, and had a gracious smile: 
A lover now declared, he led the fair
To woods and fields, to visits, and to pray’r;
Then whisper’d softly—­“Will you name the day?”
She softly whisper’d—­“If you love me, stay.” 
“Oh! try me not beyond my strength,” he cried: 
“Oh! be not weak,” the prudent Maid replied;
“But by some trial your affection prove —
Respect, and not impatience, argues love: 
And love no more is by impatience known,
Than ocean’s depth is by its tempests shown: 
He whom a weak and fond impatience sways,
But for himself with all his fervour prays,
And not the maid he woos, but his own will obeys;
And will she love the being who prefers,
With so much ardour, his desire to hers?”
Young Edward grieved, but let not grief be seen;
He knew obedience pleased his fancy’s queen: 
Awhile he waited, and then cried—­“Behold! 
The year advancing, be no longer cold!”
For she had promised—­“Let the flowers appear,
And I will pass with thee the smiling year:” 
Then pressing grew the youth; the more he press’d,
The less inclined the maid to his request: 
“Let June arrive.”  Alas! when April came,
It brought a stranger, and the stranger, shame;
Nor could the Lover from his house persuade
A stubborn lass whom he had mournful made;
Angry and weak, by thoughtless vengeance moved,
She told her story to the Fair beloved;
In strongest words th’ unwelcome truth was shown,
To blight his prospects, careless of her own. 
   Our heroine grieved, but had too firm a heart
For him to soften, when she swore to part;
In vain his seeming penitence and pray’r,
His vows, his tears; she left him in despair: 
His mother fondly laid her grief aside,
And to the reason of the nymph applied:  —
“It well becomes thee, lady, to appear,
But not to be, in very truth, severe;
Although the crime be odious in thy sight,
That daring sex is taught such things to slight,
His heart is thine, although it once was frail;
Think of his grief, and let his love prevail!”
   “Plead thou no more, “the lofty lass return’d;