CCCLXXII. THE VICAR. SOME years ago, ere time and taste Had turned our parish topsy-turvy, And guided to the Parson's wicket. Back flew the bolt of lissom lath; Fair Margaret, in her tidy kirtle, Led the lorn traveller up the path, Through clean-clipt rows of box and myrtle; And Don and Sancho, Tramp and Tray, Upon the parlour steps collected, Wagged all their tails, and seemed to say— "Our master knows you-you're expected." Uprose the Reverend Dr. Brown, Uprose the Doctor's winsome marrow; The lady laid her knitting down, Her husband clasped his ponderous Barrow; Whate'er the stranger's caste or creed, Pundit or Papist, saint or sinner, He found a stable for his steed, And welcome for himself, and dinner. If, when he reached his journey's end, He had not gained an honest friend And twenty curious scraps of knowledge,— If he departed as he came, With no new light on love or liquor,- Good sooth, the traveller was to blame, It passed from Mahomet to Moses; The planets in their radiant courses, And ending with some precept deep For dressing eels, or shoeing horses. Of loud Dissent the mortal terror; And dreamed of tasting pork to-morrow. His sermon never said or showed That Earth is foul, that Heaven is gracious, Without refreshment on the road, From Jerome, or from Athanasius : And sure a righteous zeal inspired The hand and head that penned and planned them, For all who understood admired, And some who did not understand them. He wrote, too, in a quiet way, Small treatises and smaller verses, And sage remarks on chalk and clay, And hints to noble Lords-and nurses; True histories of last year's ghost, Lines to a ringlet, or a turban, And trifles for the Morning Post, He did not think all mischief fair, It will not be improved by burning. And he was kind, and loved to sit The welcome which they could not utter. He always had a tale for me Of Julius Cæsar, or of Venus; From him I learned the rule of three, When he began to quote Augustine. Alack the change! in vain I look For haunts in which my boyhood trifled,— The level lawn, the trickling brook, The trees I climbed, the beds I rifled : The church is larger than before; You reach it by a carriage entry; Sit in the Vicar's seat: you'll hear |