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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395924" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Borough. Letter XV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WE had a sprightly nymph--in every town<br>Are some such sprights, who wander up and down;<br>She had her useful arts, and could contrive,<br>In Time's despite, to stay at twenty-five; -<br>'Here will I rest; move on, thou lying year,<br>This is mine age, and I will rest me here.'<br>Arch was her look, and she had pleasant ways<br>Your good opinion of her heart to raise;<br>Her speech was lively, and with ease express'd,<br>And well she judged the tempers she address'd:<br>If some soft stripling had her keenness felt,<br>She knew the way to make his anger melt;<br>Wit was allow'd her, though but few could bring<br>Direct example of a witty thing;<br>'Twas that gay, pleasant, smart, engaging speech,<br>Her beaux admired, and just within their reach;<br>Not indiscreet, perhaps, but yet more free<br>Than prudish nymphs allow their wit to be.<br>Novels and plays, with poems old and new,<br>Were all the books our nymph attended to;<br>Yet from the press no treatise issued forth,<br>But she would speak precisely of its worth.<br>She with the London stage familiar grew,<br>And every actor's name and merit knew;<br>She told how this or that their part mistook,<br>And of the rival Romeos gave the look;<br>Of either house 'twas hers the strength to see,<br>Then judge with candour--'Drury Lane for me.'<br>What made this knowledge, what this skill complete?<br>A fortnight's visit in Whitechapel Street.<br>Her place in life was rich and poor between,<br>With those a favourite, and with these a queen;<br>She could her parts assume, and condescend<br>To friends more humble while an humble friend;<br>And thus a welcome, lively guest could pass,<br>Threading her pleasant way from class to class.<br>'Her reputation?'--That was like her wit,<br>And seem'd her manner and her state to fit;<br>Sometking there was--what, none presumed to say;<br>Clouds lightly passing on a smiling day, -<br>Whispers and hints which went from ear to ear,<br>And mix'd reports no judge on earth could clear.<br>But of each sex a friendly number press'd<br>To joyous banquets this alluring guest:<br>There, if indulging mirth, and freed from awe,<br>If pleasing all, and pleased with all she saw,<br>Her speech was free, and such as freely dwelt<br>On the same feelings all around her felt;<br>Or if some fond presuming favourite tried<br>To come so near as once to be denied;<br>Yet not with brow so stern or speech so nice,<br>But that he ventured on denial twice: -<br>If these have been, and so has Scandal taught,<br>Yet Malice never found the proof she sought.<br>But then came one, the Lovelace of his day,<br>Rich, proud, and crafty, handsome, brave, and gay;<br>Yet loved he not those labour'd plans and arts,<br>But left the business to the ladies' hearts,<br>And when he found them in a proper train<br>He thought all else superfluous and vain:<br>But in that training he was deeply taught,<br>And rarely fail'd of gaining all he sought;<br>He knew how far directly on to go,<br>How to recede and dally to and fro;<br>How to make all the passions his allies,<br>And, when he saw them in contention rise,<br>To watch the wrought-up heart, and conquer by </div><div style="margin:10px 0">surprise.<br>Our heroine fear'd him not; it was her part<br>To make sure conquest of such gentle heart -<br>Of one so mild and humble; for she saw<br>In Henry's eye a love chastised by awe.<br>Her thoughts of virtue were not all sublime,<br>Nor virtuous all her thoughts; 'twas now her time<br>To bait each hook, in every way to please,<br>And the rich prize with dext'rous hand to seize.<br>She had no virgin-terrors; she could stray<br>In all love's maze, nor fear to lose her way;<br>Nay, could go near the precipiee, nor dread<br>A failing caution or a giddy head;<br>She'd fix her eyes upon the roaring flood,<br>And dance upon the brink where danger stood.<br>'Twas nature all, she judged, in one so young,<br>To drop the eye and falter in the tongue;<br>To be about to take, and then command<br>His daring wish, and only view the hand:<br>Yes! all was nature; it became a maid<br>Of gentle soul t'encourage love afraid; -<br>He, so unlike the confident and bold,<br>Would fly in mute despair to find her cold:<br>The young and tender germ requires the sun<br>To make it spread; it must be smiled upon.<br>Thus the kind virgin gentle means devised,<br>To gain a heart so fond, a hand so prized;<br>More gentle still she grew, to change her way<br>Would cause confusion, danger, and delay:<br>Thus (an increase of gentleness her mode),<br>She took a plain, unvaried, certain road,<br>And every hour believed success was near,<br>Till there was nothing left to hope or fear.<br>It must be own'd that, in this strife of hearts,<br>Man has advantage--has superior arts:<br>The lover's aim is to the nymph unknown,<br>Nor is she always certain of her own;<br>Or has her fears, nor these can so disguise,<br>But he who searches reads them in her eyes,<br>In the avenging frown, in the regretting sighs:<br>These are his signals, and he learns tb steer<br>The straighter course whenever they appear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">---------------------</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Pass we ten years, and what was Clelia's fate?'<br>At an attorney's board alert she sate,<br>Not legal mistress: he with other men<br>Once sought her hand, but other views were then;<br>And when he knew he might the bliss command,<br>He other blessing sought without the hand;<br>For still he felt alive the lambent flame,<br>And offer'd her a home,--and home she came.<br>There, though her higher friendships lived no </div><div style="margin:10px 0">more,<br>She loved to speak of what she shared before -<br>'Of the dear Lucy, heiress of the hall, -<br>Of good Sir Peter,--of their annual ball,<br>And the fair countess!--Oh! she loved them all!'<br>The humbler clients of her friend would stare,<br>The knowing smile,--but neither caused her care;<br>She brought her spirits to her humble state,<br>And soothed with idle dreams her frowning fate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">---------------------</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ten summers pass'd?, and how was Clelia then?' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-<br>Alas! she suffer d' in this trying ten;<br>The pair had parted: who to him attend,<br>Must judge the nymph unfaithful to her friend;<br>But who on her would equal faith bestow,<br>Would think him rash,--and surely she must know.<br>Then as a matron Clelia taught a school,<br>But nature gave not talents fit for rule:<br>Yet now, though marks of wasting years were seen,<br>Some touch of sorrow, some attack of spleen;<br>Still there was life, a spirit quick and gay,<br>And lively speech and elegant array.<br>The Griffin's landlord these allured so far,<br>He made her mistress of his heart and bar;<br>He had no idle retrospective whim,<br>Till she was his, her deeds concern'd not him:<br>So far was well,--but Clelia thought not fit<br>(In all the Griffin needed) to submit:<br>Gaily to dress and in the bar preside,<br>Soothed the poor spirit of degraded pride;<br>But cooking, waiting, welcoming a crew<br>Of noisy guests, were arts she never knew:<br>Hence daily wars, with temporary truce,<br>His vulgar insult, and her keen abuse;<br>And as their spirits wasted in the strife,<br>Both took the Griffin's ready aid of life;<br>But she with greater prudence--Harry tried<br>More powerful aid, and in the trial died;<br>Yet drew down vengeance: in no distant time,<br>Th' insolvent Griffin struck his wings sublime; -<br>Forth from her palace walk'd th' ejected queen,<br>And show'd to frowning fate a look serene;<br>Gay spite of time, though poor, yet well attired,<br>Kind without love, and vain if not admired.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">-----------------------</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An other term is past; ten other years<br>In various trials, troubles, views, and fears:<br>Of these some pass'd in small attempts at trade;<br>Houses she kept for widowers lately made;<br>For now she said, 'They'll miss th' endearing </div><div style="margin:10px 0">friend,<br>And I'll be there the soften'd heart to bend:'<br>And true a part was done as Clelia plann'd -<br>The heart was soften'd, but she miss'd the hand;<br>She wrote a novel, and Sir Denys said<br>The dedication was the best he read;<br>But Edgeworths, Smiths, and Radcliffes so engross'd<br>The public ear, that all her pains were lost.<br>To keep a toy-shop was attempt the last,<br>There too she fail'd, and schemes and hopes were </div><div style="margin:10px 0">past.<br>Now friendless, sick, and old, and wanting </div><div style="margin:10px 0">bread,<br>The first-born tears of fallen pride were shed -<br>True, bitter tears; and yet that wounded pride,<br>Among the poor, for poor distinctions sigh'd.<br>Though now her tales were to her audience fit;<br>Though loud her tones, and vulgar grown her wit,<br>Though now her dress--(but let me not explain<br>The piteous patchwork of the needy-vain,<br>The flirtish form to coarse materials lent,<br>And one poor robe through fifty fashions sent);<br>Though all within was sad, without was mean, -<br>Still 'twas her wish, her comfort, to be seen:<br>She would to plays on lowest terms resort,<br>Where once her box was to the beaux a court;<br>And, strange delight! to that same house where she<br>Join'd in the dance, all gaiety and glee,<br>Now with the menials crowding to the wall<br>She'd see, not share, the pleasures of the ball,<br>And with degraded vanity unfold,<br>How she too triumph'd in the years of old.<br>To her poor friends 'tis now her pride to tell,<br>On what a height she stood before she fell;<br>At church she points to one tall seat, and 'There<br>We sat,' she cries, 'when my papa was mayor.'<br>Not quite correct in what she now relates,<br>She alters persons, and she forges dates;<br>And finding memory's weaker help decay'd,<br>She boldly calls invention to her aid.<br>Touch'd by the pity he had felt before,<br>For her Sir Denys oped the Alms-house door:<br>'With all her faults,' he said, 'the woman knew<br>How to distinguish--had a manner too;<br>And, as they say she is allied to some<br>In decent station--let the creature come.'<br>Here she and Blaney meet, and take their view<br>Of all the pleasures they would still pursue:<br>Hour after hour they sit, and nothing hide<br>Of vices past; their follies are their pride;<br>What to the sober and the cool are crimes,<br>They boast--exulting in those happy times;<br>The darkest deeds no indignation raise,<br>The purest virtue never wins their praise;<br>But still they on their ancient joys dilate,<br>Still with regret departed glories state,<br>And mourn their grievous fall, and curse their <br>rigorous fate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Crabbe">George Crabbe</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395924" data-title="The Borough. Letter XV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia de George Crabbe" data-description="WE had a sprightly nymph--in every town
Are some such sprights, who wander up and down;
She had her useful arts, and could contrive,
In Time's despite, to stay at twenty-five; -
'Here will I rest; move on, thou lying year,
This is mine age, and I ..."></div>
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