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+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #62767 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62767)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Miller and his Golden Dream, by Eliza
-Lucy Leonard
-
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at 
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-
-Title: The Miller and his Golden Dream
-
-
-Author: Eliza Lucy Leonard
-
-
-
-Release Date: July 27, 2020  [eBook #62767]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-
-***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLER AND HIS GOLDEN DREAM***
-
-
-E-text prepared by Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed Proofreading
-Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
-Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
-
-
-
-Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
-      file which includes the original hand-colored
-      illustrations.
-      See 62767-h.htm or 62767-h.zip:
-      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/62767/62767-h/62767-h.htm)
-      or
-      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/62767/62767-h.zip)
-
-
-      Images of the original pages are available through
-      Internet Archive. See
-      https://archive.org/details/millerhisgoldend00leoniala
-
-
-Transcriber’s note:
-
-      The illustrations have been moved to the end of the
-      book to avoid disrupting the flow of the poem.
-
-
-
-
-
-                                   THE
-                                 MILLER
-                                   AND
-                            HIS GOLDEN DREAM.
-
-                    “With moderate blessings be content,
-                      Nor idly grasp at every shade;
-                    Peace, competence, a life well spent,
-                      Are treasures that can never fade;
-                    And he who weakly sighs for more—
-                    —Augments his misery, not his store.”
-
-                            BY THE AUTHOR OF
-                          “THE RUBY RING,” &c.
-
-                           WELLINGTON, SALOP:
-                _PRINTED BY AND FOR F. HOULSTON AND SON_,
-          And sold by Scatcherd and Co. Ave-Maria Lane, London.
-
-                                  1822.
-
-                    [_Entered at Stationers’ Hall._]
-
-
-
-
-Advertisement.
-
-
-In the construction of the following little Poem, the Author has declined
-the aids of Genii, &c.—the powerful auxiliaries of her two former
-works,—on the belief that a moral truth requires little of artificial
-embellishment to render it attractive. She presents therefore a simple
-unadorned tale to her young readers, as an experiment; not without hope
-that their reception and approval of it may be such, as to sanction
-future efforts, and to confirm her in the propriety of her present
-opinion.
-
-
-
-
-THE MILLER.
-
-
-    If, ’mid the passions of the breast,
-    There be one deadlier than the rest,
-    Whose poisonous influence would control
-    The generous purpose of the soul,
-    A cruel selfishness impart,
-    And harden, and contract the heart;
-    If such a passion be, the vice
-    Is unrelenting Avarice.
-    And would my youthful readers know
-    The features of this mortal foe,
-    The lineaments will hardly fail
-    To strike them in the following tale.
-
-      In England—but it matters not
-    That I precisely name the spot—
-    A Miller liv’d, and humble fame
-    Had grac’d with rustic praise his name.
-    For many a year his village neighbours
-    Felt and confess’d his useful labours;
-    Swift flew his hours, on busy wing
-    Revolving in their rosy ring:
-    His life, alternate toil and rest,
-    Nor cares annoy’d, nor want oppress’d.
-
-      Whang’s mill, beside a sparkling brook,
-    Stood shelter’d in a wooded nook:
-    The stream, the willow’s whispering trees,
-    The humming of the housing bees,
-    Swell’d with soft sounds the summer breeze;
-    Those simple sounds, that to the heart
-    A soothing influence impart,
-    And full on every sense convey
-    Th’ impression of a summer’s day.
-
-      A cot, with clustering ivy crown’d,
-    Smil’d from a gently sloping mound,
-    Whose sunny banks, profusely gay,
-    Gave to the view, in proud display,
-    The many colour’d buds of May;
-    Flowers, that _spontaneous_ fringe the brink
-    Of sinuous Tame, and bend to drink.
-    My native River! at thy name
-    What mix’d emotions thrill my frame!
-    Through the dim vista of past years,
-    How shadowy soft thy scene appears!
-    With earliest recollections twin’d,
-    To thee still fondly turns my mind;
-    While Memory paints with faithful force
-    The grace of thy meandering course
-    ’Neath bending boughs, whose mingling shade
-    Now hid, and now thy stream betray’d.—
-    Bright—though long distant from my view—
-    Rise all thy magic charms anew;
-    And on thy calm and shallowy shore
-    Again, in Fancy’s eye, I pore,
-    The steps retrace, our infant feet
-    So buoyant trod, and once more meet
-    Each object in my wandering gaze
-    That form’d the joys of “other days.”
-    All, all return, and with them bring
-    The “life of life,” its vivid spring.
-    The sun is bright, the flowers re-bloom,
-    Cold friends are kind, kind e’en the tomb:
-    For one brief moment ’tis forgot
-    There once _were_ those, who now _are not_.
-    Eyes beam, and hearts as fondly beat,
-    Voices their wonted tones repeat—
-    But ’tis on Fancy’s ear alone—
-    I wake, alas! and _all are gone_!
-
-      Yet, Tame, the theme of childish praise,
-    For thee were fram’d my earliest lays;
-    Thy banks of all were deem’d the pride,
-    Thy flowers, by none to be outvied.
-    Those days are past—and sad I view
-    The time I bade thee, Tame, adieu:
-    Those days are gone, and I have seen
-    Full many a river’s margent green;
-    Full many a bursting bud display
-    The rich luxuriance of May—
-    But loveliest _still_ thy flowers I deem,
-    And dearest thou, my native stream!
-
-      Thus clings around our early joys
-    A mystic charm no time destroys,
-    Endearing recollections more,
-    When all of _real_ joy is o’er.
-
-      Forgive, Whang, this digressive strain;
-    The journey done, I’m yours again.
-    If for a simile I sought
-    Back through the distant tracks of thought,
-    The flowers I gather’d by the way
-    Upon your fabled banks I lay;
-    Where primrose groups were yearly seen
-    Peeping beneath their curtain green,
-    With aromatic mint beside,
-    And violets in purple pride.
-    In gay festoons, o’er hazles thrown,
-    Hung many a woodbine’s floral crown;
-    The brier-rose too, that woos the bee,
-    And thyme, that sighs its odours free.
-    The lark, the blackbird, and the thrush,
-    Hymn’d happiness from every bush:
-    The Eden to their lot assign’d
-    Fill’d with content the feather’d kind;
-    Example worthy _him_, I ween,
-    Who reign’d sole monarch of the scene—
-    The Miller.——“What!” you will enquire,
-    “Possess’d he not his soul’s desire?
-    Ah! could his wishes soar above
-    The calm of this untroubled grove?”
-    Alas! his frailty must be told—
-    Whang entertain’d a love for gold:
-    And none, whatever their demerit,
-    That did of wealth a store inherit,
-    But gain’d (so strong the dire dominion)
-    Whang’s reverence, and his best opinion.
-    “_Gold_, my dear spouse,” would cry his wife,
-    “Is call’d an _evil_ of our life.”
-    “True,” Whang rejoin’d, “the only _evil_
-    Whose visits I consider civil;
-    But ’tis, alack!—the thought is grievous—
-    _The evil_ most in haste to leave us.”
-
-      ’Twere proper that my readers knew,
-    That, by _degrees_, this passion grew;
-    Not _always_ was the silly elf
-    So craving, coveting of pelf,
-    Though he was ever prone to hold
-    In high esteem _pound-notes_ and _gold_:
-    And CIRCUMSTANCES sometimes root
-    Firm in the mind the _feeblest_ shoot;
-    A truth, erewhile, this man of meal
-    By his example will reveal.
-
-      “True,” would he say, “I am not poor:
-    What then? may I not wish for more?
-    This paltry mill provides me food,
-    Keeps dame and I from famine—good!
-    Yet, mark the labour I endure,
-    A meagre living to secure.
-    ’Tis lucky that I have my health,
-    Since this poor mill is all my wealth;
-    Though irksome, I confess, to toil
-    To catch Dame Fortune’s niggard smile,
-    When she so prodigal can be
-    To men of less desert than me,
-    Throwing her bounties in their lap,
-    Almost without their asking—slap!
-    ’Twas but to-day that I was told,
-    With truth I’ll vouch, a pan of gold
-    Seen by a neighbour in a dream—
-    —Thrice dreamt on, though, as it should seem—
-    My neighbour dug for, as directed—
-    (Shame had such warning been neglected!)—
-    Dug for, and, better still, he found
-    A treasure hidden under ground,
-    In the same spot, or thereabout,
-    His happy dream had pointed out.
-    Such riches _now_ his coffers fill,
-    No more he labours, let who will.
-    I wish with all my heart,” he cried,
-    “I wish such luck may me betide!”
-    So saying, from the bags he started,
-    While through his brain vague fancies darted,
-    And with a brisker air and gait
-    He left the mill to seek his Kate,
-    The golden vision to relate.
-    At eve, before the cottage-door,
-    They talk’d the wondrous story o’er;
-    And every time it was repeated,
-    With warmer hope Whang’s brain was heated.
-    Complacent to his bed he hies,
-    Certain, when sleep should close his eyes,
-    Like _him_ to dream who gain’d the prize:
-    And doubtless _might_ have dream’d the same;
-    But neither sleep nor vision came.
-    He toss’d and turn’d him all night long,
-    Tried all manœuvres—all were wrong.
-    “Had never known the like before,
-    Was us’d to sleep quite sound, and snore;
-    But now, when he desir’d it most,
-    The art to sleep seem’d wholly lost.”
-
-      When Hope (t’ indulge a short digression)
-    Gains of weak minds complete possession,
-    She buoys them up, like cork and sail,
-    ’Gainst Disappointment’s heavy gale.
-    So Whang, with undishearten’d mind,
-    Trusting the _future_ would be kind,
-    Rose from his dreamless bed next morn
-    Neither discourag’d nor forlorn:
-    With one idea fill’d, he sought
-    His mill, but little there he wrought.
-    Week follow’d week, and months the same,
-    Whang slept indeed, but could not dream;
-    Yet, prescient still of his success,
-    His industry grew less and less.
-    He thought it wrong in him to labour,
-    Who, by and by, might, like his neighbour,
-    Receive the happy wish’d-for warning,
-    And wake to thousands in the morning!
-    It was amusing to observe
-    His solemn pomp, his proud reserve,
-    His sad exchange of glee, for state,
-    That ill-beseem’d his rustic gait.
-    His temper open, far from vicious,
-    Chang’d too—for he was grown ambitious.
-    He, that so early erst was seen
-    With active step to cross the green,
-    Now slept, supinely slept away
-    The prime, the golden hours of day.
-    The sun shot down his highest beam
-    Upon th’ unprofitable stream;
-    Whang’s duty bade him sleep and dream.
-    I will not say but Whang was born
-    With sense enough to grind his corn,
-    Or on a market-day to tell
-    Whether ’twere good to buy or sell;
-    But since the store his neighbour found,
-    I dare not say his wits were sound.
-    In sad neglect the mill-wheel stood
-    That long supplied his daily food;
-    And marvelling neighbours shook the head,
-    Amaz’d the Miller’s glee was fled.
-    Some thought his conscience overcast
-    Was but a judgment for the _past_.
-    Old Robin with a wink could tell
-    That “Whang had manag’d matters well;
-    He shrewdly guess’d how things would end,
-    For gain, ill-gotten, would not spend.”
-    And Gammer Gabble _now_ could prate
-    That her “last sack had wanted weight.”
-    _She_ “knew the Miller long ago,
-    And wonder’d _others_ did not know.”
-    So all most prudently prepare
-    To trust their grain to better care.
-    Thus, by degrees the stores declin’d,
-    Till Whang had scarce a batch to grind.
-    No matter! Hope still talk’d the more
-    About his unfound hidden store:
-    But inauspicious yet appear’d
-    His wish; no warning voice was heard.
-    Now Mistress Whang, of nature humble,
-    Had smil’d to hear her husband grumble,
-    And would admonish him, ’tis said,
-    To chase vain phantoms from his head.
-    She, more incredulous, insisted
-    His visions ought to be resisted;
-    Thought they had chang’d his very nature,
-    And sourly curl’d each homely feature:
-    She felt full dearly they bestood
-    Sad substitutes for wholesome food.
-
-      At issue long, as oft the case,
-    The war of words to peace gave place.
-    In truth the visionary Whang
-    Ceas’d now entirely to harangue
-    On this dear theme:—he hated _doubt_,
-    And Kate had many, staunch and stout:
-    And in a hostile muster, they
-    Gave her the better of the fray.
-    Though silent on his favourite theme,
-    He did resolve, when he _should_ dream,
-    And _find_ th’ anticipated pelf,
-    To _keep_ the secret to _himself_;
-    For he averr’d it “quite vexatious
-    His wife should be so pertinacious.”
-    No passions vain _her_ heart misled:
-    The path of humble peace to tread
-    Was her sole aim; of this secure,
-    She felt content, nor sigh’d for more.
-    She griev’d to find her counsels failing,
-    They were sincere, though unavailing;
-    And oft midst wishes, fears, and sighs,
-    ’Twas thus she would soliloquise:—
-    “My pretty window! that commands
-    Those meadows green, and wooded lands,
-    So sunny, that the latest ray
-    Its panes receive of parting day.
-    O! with what joy, when near it plac’d,
-    I’ve watch’d my husband homeward haste!
-    Or heard, from fair returning late,
-    The welcome sounds of ‘Holla, Kate!’
-    Through it I trace on every hand
-    Beauties, would grace a fairy-land,
-    And think that, like a grateful eye,
-    It smiles on all beneath the sky.
-    There, too, my sweet geranium blows,
-    And mignionette, and crimson rose,
-    When all without is clad in snows.
-    I doubt me, if a princess feels
-    More joy than that which o’er me steals,
-    When light and morn my slumbers break,
-    And to this blissful scene I wake.
-    I cannot form a wish beside
-    What Heaven’s bounty has supplied,
-    Save that to Whang I could impart
-    The same content that fills my heart;
-    Yield him that thankful state of rest,
-    Or teach to _prize the good possess’d_.”
-
-      Good fortune seldom comes too late;
-    For lo! at last indulgent Fate
-    Smil’d on the importunate swain,
-    And eas’d at length his anxious pain.
-    Dreams—one,—two,—three,—th’ important number,
-    Omen’d him hence to quit his slumber,
-    With spade and mattock arm’d, to delve
-    Six feet—nay, I believe ’twas twelve,
-    Close by the long-forsaken mill—
-    He flies, the mission to fulfil!
-    The mattock rings, the spade descends,
-    The sturdy arm its vigour lends;
-    At such light labour who could sleep?
-    Whang is already three feet deep!
-    Upon the spade observe him smile:
-    What sees he?—what?—a broken tile;
-    The very tile his dream foretold,
-    A landmark to his pan of gold!
-    Upturns one token more—a bone!
-    And now, behold the broad flat stone!
-    A moment on its ample size
-    He gaz’d with wide distended eyes—
-    “Beneath _that_ is the pan!” he cries.
-    “’Twas under such a stone as this
-    That neighbour Drowsypate found his.
-    So then, at last, my hopes are crown’d!
-    Come, then, let’s raise thee from the ground.”
-    But, ere to lift the stone he tries,
-    He shook his head, not over wise,
-    And, with a self-approving glance,
-    One foot a little in advance,
-    With nose and lip contemptuous curl’d,
-    That said, “A fig for all the world!”
-    He cried, “My wife, she, silly trot!
-    Shall never know the wealth I’ve got:
-    To punish her I made a _vow_;
-    The time is come, I’ll keep it now.
-    She could not dream, poor fool! not she;
-    Some trite old tale of ‘busy bee,’
-    Of saving pins, and pence, and groats,
-    For ever occupied _her_ thoughts.
-    Besides, the hussey laugh’d outright
-    Whene’er I pass’d a dreamless night.
-    Yes, yes, I will requite her scorn;
-    She’ll rue it, sure as she is born!”——
-    Ah, bootless boast! the stone so great
-    Exceeds by far his strength in weight.
-    In vain he digs and delves the ground,
-    And clears away the rubbish round,
-    And gathering strength with his vexation,
-    Widens the fearful excavation.
-    He cannot move the stone for life;
-    So forc’d at last, he calls his wife,
-    Imparts the fact so long repress’d,
-    And glads, reluctantly, her breast.
-    The news he stated wak’d her fear;
-    What gave delight at first to hear,
-    One apprehension turn’d to pain—
-    She trembled for her husband’s brain.
-    “Can it be true?” cried she, misdeeming;
-    “Dear Whang, too surely thou _art dreaming_:
-    Try, recollect thyself, good man—”
-    “Tut, hussey! why, I’ll shew the pan:
-    Only a minute’s help I ask,
-    And thou shalt see’t—a trifling task
-    Just to remove, I know not what,
-    A stone, it may be, from the spot.
-    Come, come, thy hand.” They gain the door,
-    When, turning, Kate asks, “_Are you sure?_”
-    “_Sure? yes_,” vociferates her spouse.
-    This said, they issue from the house—
-    “I’m _certain_, as to all I’ve told,
-    As if e’en _now_ I _touch’d_ the _gold_:
-    _Sure_ as that I no more will bear
-    This russet doublet now to wear:—
-    That I no more will condescend
-    To own Ralph Roughspeech for _my friend_,
-    Nor tolerate the pert monition
-    Of neighbours, in my chang’d condition:
-    _Sure_—but, ye Powers! what do I see?—
-    The mill! the mill!—Oh! woe is me!
-    My only stay, my certain aid,
-    All level with the earth is laid!——
-    Presumptuous! I have scorn’d my fate,
-    And wrought this mischief: all too late
-    The error of my life I see,
-    And misery my portion be.
-    Time, that no more I may recal,
-    By wise men priz’d, and dear to all,
-    How have I squander’d! how abus’d!
-    My friends, my neighbours, basely us’d!
-    How shall I bear, acquaintance meeting,
-    Scorn to behold where once was greeting?
-    Now comes _their_ turn to treat the fool
-    With jeers, contempt, and ridicule.
-    Laugh’d at on all sides—and to know
-    And _feel_ I have _deserv’d_ the blow!
-    Undone by mine own discontent!—
-    But ah! too late I do repent.
-    Forc’d now in poverty to roam,
-    I soon must quit this quiet home;
-    And where with thee, poor Kate! to fly?—
-    Oh! I could lay me down and die!
-    Wretch that I am! Kate, Kate, forgive!”
-    “_My_ pardon, dearest Whang, receive:
-    But ’twas not _I_ who gave thee health,
-    Strength, talent to improve thy wealth;
-    Who cast thy lot in such fair land,
-    Or bless’d thee with such liberal hand.
-    O! turn to _Him_ with thankful prayer
-    Who deigns e’en yet thy life to spare;
-    Implore His pardon—kneel with me;
-    This ruin might have cover’d _thee_.
-    But thou art spar’d, and yet remain
-    The means our livelihood to gain:
-    A heartfelt willing perseverance
-    Will mend our lot before a year hence.
-    Thou knowest well that neighbour Ralph
-    Each morn will spare an hour or half
-    To help us to repair the mill.”
-    “Doest think,” Whang blushing ask’d, “he will?”
-    “Yes, yes, I do believe so too,
-    He was a neighbour kind and true;
-    And if his counsels gave offence,
-    The fault was in my want of sense.
-    Yet, ideot! I”—“Enough!” cried Kate,
-    Exulting in her alter’d mate;
-    “To see our faults in their just light,
-    Is next akin to acting right.
-    But time no longer let us waste;
-    I’ll to friend Roughspeech quickly haste:
-    Own thou, meanwhile,” she smiling cried,
-    “To have a help-mate in thy bride
-    Is _treasure perhaps_ of equal worth
-    With _aught conceal’d beneath the earth_.”
-    With look of conscious proud delight,
-    She caught the sound of, “Kate, thou’rt right;”
-    While a “small voice” responsive join’d
-    Applausive music in her mind.
-
-      Then turn’d she from the yawning ground,
-    And, eying Whang with thought profound,
-    Saw in his look, on her that bent,
-    A meaning most intelligent.
-    A wish defin’d she saw, and knelt;
-    Beside her soon his form she felt:
-    Then, with join’d hands uplift in air,
-    Burst from their lips the ardent prayer.
-    With brighter hopes from earth they rose,
-    Nor long (—for so the story goes)
-    In idle wailings spent the day:
-    Just then a neighbour pass’d that way.—
-    Whang turn’d his head; a crimson streak
-    Rush’d hastily across his cheek,
-    And Cath’rine’s palpitating breast
-    A momentary shame confess’d:
-    For well they knew, Old Robin’s tale
-    Soon through the village would prevail,
-    And bring a host about their ears,
-    With pity some, and some with jeers.
-    But _guilt_ and _folly_ must endure
-    The _caustics_ that effect a cure.
-    Whang therefore strove, with patient heart,
-    To bear th’ anticipated smart;
-    Nor vainly strove: the threaten’d ill
-    Fell, he with patience met it still.
-    Few in the morning of his grief
-    Or gave, or proffer’d him relief.
-    Those who had _counsell’d heretofore_,
-    Excus’d themselves from doing more,
-    “Presuming nothing _they_ could offer
-    Would meet acceptance from the scoffer.”
-    Others, meanwhile, of nature good,
-    Assisted, comforted, withstood
-    With honest scorn the worldling’s cant,
-    Nor shunn’d a neighbour, though in want.
-    To all, Whang bore an humble mien,
-    By all, his contrite spirit’s seen;
-    Till even they who smil’d at first,
-    When o’er his head the tempest burst,
-    Were forc’d, in justice, to declare
-    His penitence _appear’d sincere_.
-    “They trusted, nay, _almost believ’d_
-    His loss of character retriev’d:”
-    And, soften’d by his chang’d address,
-    “Good fortune _wish’d_, and happiness.”
-
-      And he _was_ happy—“he was bless’d
-    Beyond desert,” he oft confessed,
-    By friends, by all the good caress’d.
-    A smiling garden, rescu’d mill,
-    His dear old cottage on the hill,
-    A faithful wife, a conscience clear,
-    Shed brightness on each coming year.
-
-      The church-yard stone, that bears his name,
-    Records his failing and his fame;
-    And, in his life and death, conveys
-    A moral truth to future days.
-
-FINIS.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-    Burst from their lips the ardent prayer.
-
-_Page 28._]
-
-[Illustration:
-
-    ’Tis lucky that I have my health.
-    Since this poor mill is all my wealth:
-
-_Page 12._]
-
-[Illustration:
-
-    At eve before the cottage-door.
-    They talk’d the wondrous story o’er;
-
-_Page 14._]
-
-[Illustration:
-
-    My pretty window! that commands
-    Those meadows green and wooded lands.
-
-_Page 19._]
-
-[Illustration:
-
-    One foot a little in advance.
-    With nose and lip contemptuous curl’d.
-    That said, “A fig for all the world!”
-
-_Page 22._]
-
-[Illustration:
-
-    ——ye Powers! what do I see?——
-
-_Page 24._]
-
-
-
-
-***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLER AND HIS GOLDEN DREAM***
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-<h1 class="pgx" title="">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Miller and his Golden Dream, by Eliza
-Lucy Leonard</h1>
-<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
-and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
-restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
-under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
-eBook or online at <a
-href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.  If you are not
-located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this ebook.</p>
-<p>Title: The Miller and his Golden Dream</p>
-<p>Author: Eliza Lucy Leonard</p>
-<p>Release Date: July 27, 2020  [eBook #62767]</p>
-<p>Language: English</p>
-<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p>
-<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLER AND HIS GOLDEN DREAM***</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h4 class="pgx" title="">E-text prepared by Charlene Taylor<br />
-    and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
-    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
-    from page images generously made available by<br />
-    Internet Archive<br />
-    (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10">
-  <tr>
-    <td valign="top">
-      Note:
-    </td>
-    <td>
-      Images of the original pages are available through
-      Internet Archive. See
-      <a href="https://archive.org/details/millerhisgoldend00leoniala">
-      https://archive.org/details/millerhisgoldend00leoniala</a>
-    </td>
-  </tr>
-</table>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p class="transnote"><b>Transcriber’s Note:</b> The illustrations
-have been moved to the end of the book
-to avoid disrupting the flow of the poem.</p>
-<hr class="pgx" />
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p>
-
-<h1><span class="smaller">THE</span><br />
-MILLER<br />
-<span class="smaller">AND</span><br />
-HIS GOLDEN DREAM.</h1>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse">“With moderate blessings be content,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Nor idly grasp at every shade;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Peace, competence, a life well spent,</div>
-    <div class="verse indent2">Are treasures that can never fade;</div>
-    <div class="verse">And he who weakly sighs for more—</div>
-    <div class="verse">—Augments his misery, not his store.”</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">BY THE AUTHOR OF</span><br />
-“THE RUBY RING,” &amp;c.</p>
-
-<p class="titlepage">WELLINGTON, SALOP:<br />
-<span class="smaller"><i>PRINTED BY AND FOR F. HOULSTON AND SON</i>,<br />
-And sold by Scatcherd and Co. Ave-Maria Lane, London.</span></p>
-
-<p class="center">1822.</p>
-
-<p class="center smaller">[<i>Entered at Stationers’ Hall.</i>]</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="Advertisement">Advertisement.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>In the construction of the following little Poem,
-the Author has declined the aids of Genii, &amp;c.—the
-powerful auxiliaries of her two former works,—on
-the belief that a moral truth requires little
-of artificial embellishment to render it attractive.
-She presents therefore a simple unadorned tale
-to her young readers, as an experiment; not without
-hope that their reception and approval of it
-may be such, as to sanction future efforts, and to
-confirm her in the propriety of her present opinion.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="smaller">THE</span><br />
-MILLER.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse">If, ’mid the passions of the breast,</div>
-    <div class="verse">There be one deadlier than the rest,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whose poisonous influence would control</div>
-    <div class="verse">The generous purpose of the soul,</div>
-    <div class="verse">A cruel selfishness impart,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And harden, and contract the heart;</div>
-    <div class="verse">If such a passion be, the vice</div>
-    <div class="verse">Is unrelenting Avarice.</div>
-    <div class="verse">And would my youthful readers know</div>
-    <div class="verse">The features of this mortal foe,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The lineaments will hardly fail</div>
-    <div class="verse">To strike them in the following tale.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">In England—but it matters not</div>
-    <div class="verse">That I precisely name the spot—</div>
-    <div class="verse">A Miller liv’d, and humble fame</div>
-    <div class="verse">Had grac’d with rustic praise his name.</div>
-    <div class="verse">For many a year his village neighbours</div>
-    <div class="verse">Felt and confess’d his useful labours;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Swift flew his hours, on busy wing</div>
-    <div class="verse">Revolving in their rosy ring:</div>
-    <div class="verse">His life, alternate toil and rest,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Nor cares annoy’d, nor want oppress’d.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">Whang’s mill, beside a sparkling brook,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Stood shelter’d in a wooded nook:</div>
-    <div class="verse">The stream, the willow’s whispering trees,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The humming of the housing bees,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Swell’d with soft sounds the summer breeze;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Those simple sounds, that to the heart</div>
-    <div class="verse">A soothing influence impart,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And full on every sense convey</div>
-    <div class="verse">Th’ impression of a summer’s day.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">A cot, with clustering ivy crown’d,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Smil’d from a gently sloping mound,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whose sunny banks, profusely gay,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Gave to the view, in proud display,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The many colour’d buds of May;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Flowers, that <i>spontaneous</i> fringe the brink</div>
-    <div class="verse">Of sinuous Tame, and bend to drink.</div>
-    <div class="verse">My native River! at thy name</div>
-    <div class="verse">What mix’d emotions thrill my frame!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Through the dim vista of past years,</div>
-    <div class="verse">How shadowy soft thy scene appears!</div>
-    <div class="verse">With earliest recollections twin’d,</div>
-    <div class="verse">To thee still fondly turns my mind;</div>
-    <div class="verse">While Memory paints with faithful force</div>
-    <div class="verse">The grace of thy meandering course</div>
-    <div class="verse">’Neath bending boughs, whose mingling shade</div>
-    <div class="verse">Now hid, and now thy stream betray’d.—</div>
-    <div class="verse">Bright—though long distant from my view—</div>
-    <div class="verse">Rise all thy magic charms anew;</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span>
-    <div class="verse">And on thy calm and shallowy shore</div>
-    <div class="verse">Again, in Fancy’s eye, I pore,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The steps retrace, our infant feet</div>
-    <div class="verse">So buoyant trod, and once more meet</div>
-    <div class="verse">Each object in my wandering gaze</div>
-    <div class="verse">That form’d the joys of “other days.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">All, all return, and with them bring</div>
-    <div class="verse">The “life of life,” its vivid spring.</div>
-    <div class="verse">The sun is bright, the flowers re-bloom,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Cold friends are kind, kind e’en the tomb:</div>
-    <div class="verse">For one brief moment ’tis forgot</div>
-    <div class="verse">There once <i>were</i> those, who now <i>are not</i>.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Eyes beam, and hearts as fondly beat,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Voices their wonted tones repeat—</div>
-    <div class="verse">But ’tis on Fancy’s ear alone—</div>
-    <div class="verse">I wake, alas! and <i>all are gone</i>!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">Yet, Tame, the theme of childish praise,</div>
-    <div class="verse">For thee were fram’d my earliest lays;</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Thy banks of all were deem’d the pride,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Thy flowers, by none to be outvied.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Those days are past—and sad I view</div>
-    <div class="verse">The time I bade thee, Tame, adieu:</div>
-    <div class="verse">Those days are gone, and I have seen</div>
-    <div class="verse">Full many a river’s margent green;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Full many a bursting bud display</div>
-    <div class="verse">The rich luxuriance of May—</div>
-    <div class="verse">But loveliest <i>still</i> thy flowers I deem,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And dearest thou, my native stream!</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">Thus clings around our early joys</div>
-    <div class="verse">A mystic charm no time destroys,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Endearing recollections more,</div>
-    <div class="verse">When all of <i>real</i> joy is o’er.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">Forgive, Whang, this digressive strain;</div>
-    <div class="verse">The journey done, I’m yours again.</div>
-    <div class="verse">If for a simile I sought</div>
-    <div class="verse">Back through the distant tracks of thought,</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span>
-    <div class="verse">The flowers I gather’d by the way</div>
-    <div class="verse">Upon your fabled banks I lay;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Where primrose groups were yearly seen</div>
-    <div class="verse">Peeping beneath their curtain green,</div>
-    <div class="verse">With aromatic mint beside,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And violets in purple pride.</div>
-    <div class="verse">In gay festoons, o’er hazles thrown,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Hung many a woodbine’s floral crown;</div>
-    <div class="verse">The brier-rose too, that woos the bee,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And thyme, that sighs its odours free.</div>
-    <div class="verse">The lark, the blackbird, and the thrush,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Hymn’d happiness from every bush:</div>
-    <div class="verse">The Eden to their lot assign’d</div>
-    <div class="verse">Fill’d with content the feather’d kind;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Example worthy <i>him</i>, I ween,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Who reign’d sole monarch of the scene—</div>
-    <div class="verse">The Miller.——“What!” you will enquire,</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Possess’d he not his soul’s desire?</div>
-    <div class="verse">Ah! could his wishes soar above</div>
-    <div class="verse">The calm of this untroubled grove?”</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Alas! his frailty must be told—</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whang entertain’d a love for gold:</div>
-    <div class="verse">And none, whatever their demerit,</div>
-    <div class="verse">That did of wealth a store inherit,</div>
-    <div class="verse">But gain’d (so strong the dire dominion)</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whang’s reverence, and his best opinion.</div>
-    <div class="verse">“<i>Gold</i>, my dear spouse,” would cry his wife,</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Is call’d an <i>evil</i> of our life.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">“True,” Whang rejoin’d, “the only <i>evil</i></div>
-    <div class="verse">Whose visits I consider civil;</div>
-    <div class="verse">But ’tis, alack!—the thought is grievous—</div>
-    <div class="verse"><i>The evil</i> most in haste to leave us.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">’Twere proper that my readers knew,</div>
-    <div class="verse">That, by <i>degrees</i>, this passion grew;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Not <i>always</i> was the silly elf</div>
-    <div class="verse">So craving, coveting of pelf,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Though he was ever prone to hold</div>
-    <div class="verse">In high esteem <i>pound-notes</i> and <i>gold</i>:</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span>
-    <div class="verse">And <span class="smcap">circumstances</span> sometimes root</div>
-    <div class="verse">Firm in the mind the <i>feeblest</i> shoot;</div>
-    <div class="verse">A truth, erewhile, this man of meal</div>
-    <div class="verse">By his example will reveal.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">“True,” would he say, “I am not poor:</div>
-    <div class="verse">What then? may I not wish for more?</div>
-    <div class="verse">This paltry mill provides me food,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Keeps dame and I from famine—good!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Yet, mark the labour I endure,</div>
-    <div class="verse">A meagre living to secure.</div>
-    <div class="verse">’Tis lucky that I have my health,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Since this poor mill is all my wealth;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Though irksome, I confess, to toil</div>
-    <div class="verse">To catch Dame Fortune’s niggard smile,</div>
-    <div class="verse">When she so prodigal can be</div>
-    <div class="verse">To men of less desert than me,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Throwing her bounties in their lap,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Almost without their asking—slap!</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span>
-    <div class="verse">’Twas but to-day that I was told,</div>
-    <div class="verse">With truth I’ll vouch, a pan of gold</div>
-    <div class="verse">Seen by a neighbour in a dream—</div>
-    <div class="verse">—Thrice dreamt on, though, as it should seem—</div>
-    <div class="verse">My neighbour dug for, as directed—</div>
-    <div class="verse">(Shame had such warning been neglected!)—</div>
-    <div class="verse">Dug for, and, better still, he found</div>
-    <div class="verse">A treasure hidden under ground,</div>
-    <div class="verse">In the same spot, or thereabout,</div>
-    <div class="verse">His happy dream had pointed out.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Such riches <i>now</i> his coffers fill,</div>
-    <div class="verse">No more he labours, let who will.</div>
-    <div class="verse">I wish with all my heart,” he cried,</div>
-    <div class="verse">“I wish such luck may me betide!”</div>
-    <div class="verse">So saying, from the bags he started,</div>
-    <div class="verse">While through his brain vague fancies darted,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And with a brisker air and gait</div>
-    <div class="verse">He left the mill to seek his Kate,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The golden vision to relate.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span>
-    <div class="verse">At eve, before the cottage-door,</div>
-    <div class="verse">They talk’d the wondrous story o’er;</div>
-    <div class="verse">And every time it was repeated,</div>
-    <div class="verse">With warmer hope Whang’s brain was heated.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Complacent to his bed he hies,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Certain, when sleep should close his eyes,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Like <i>him</i> to dream who gain’d the prize:</div>
-    <div class="verse">And doubtless <i>might</i> have dream’d the same;</div>
-    <div class="verse">But neither sleep nor vision came.</div>
-    <div class="verse">He toss’d and turn’d him all night long,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Tried all manœuvres—all were wrong.</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Had never known the like before,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Was us’d to sleep quite sound, and snore;</div>
-    <div class="verse">But now, when he desir’d it most,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The art to sleep seem’d wholly lost.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">When Hope (t’ indulge a short digression)</div>
-    <div class="verse">Gains of weak minds complete possession,</div>
-    <div class="verse">She buoys them up, like cork and sail,</div>
-    <div class="verse">’Gainst Disappointment’s heavy gale.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span>
-    <div class="verse">So Whang, with undishearten’d mind,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Trusting the <i>future</i> would be kind,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Rose from his dreamless bed next morn</div>
-    <div class="verse">Neither discourag’d nor forlorn:</div>
-    <div class="verse">With one idea fill’d, he sought</div>
-    <div class="verse">His mill, but little there he wrought.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Week follow’d week, and months the same,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whang slept indeed, but could not dream;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Yet, prescient still of his success,</div>
-    <div class="verse">His industry grew less and less.</div>
-    <div class="verse">He thought it wrong in him to labour,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Who, by and by, might, like his neighbour,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Receive the happy wish’d-for warning,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And wake to thousands in the morning!</div>
-    <div class="verse">It was amusing to observe</div>
-    <div class="verse">His solemn pomp, his proud reserve,</div>
-    <div class="verse">His sad exchange of glee, for state,</div>
-    <div class="verse">That ill-beseem’d his rustic gait.</div>
-    <div class="verse">His temper open, far from vicious,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Chang’d too—for he was grown ambitious.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span>
-    <div class="verse">He, that so early erst was seen</div>
-    <div class="verse">With active step to cross the green,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Now slept, supinely slept away</div>
-    <div class="verse">The prime, the golden hours of day.</div>
-    <div class="verse">The sun shot down his highest beam</div>
-    <div class="verse">Upon th’ unprofitable stream;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whang’s duty bade him sleep and dream.</div>
-    <div class="verse">I will not say but Whang was born</div>
-    <div class="verse">With sense enough to grind his corn,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Or on a market-day to tell</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whether ’twere good to buy or sell;</div>
-    <div class="verse">But since the store his neighbour found,</div>
-    <div class="verse">I dare not say his wits were sound.</div>
-    <div class="verse">In sad neglect the mill-wheel stood</div>
-    <div class="verse">That long supplied his daily food;</div>
-    <div class="verse">And marvelling neighbours shook the head,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Amaz’d the Miller’s glee was fled.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Some thought his conscience overcast</div>
-    <div class="verse">Was but a judgment for the <i>past</i>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Old Robin with a wink could tell</div>
-    <div class="verse">That “Whang had manag’d matters well;</div>
-    <div class="verse">He shrewdly guess’d how things would end,</div>
-    <div class="verse">For gain, ill-gotten, would not spend.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">And Gammer Gabble <i>now</i> could prate</div>
-    <div class="verse">That her “last sack had wanted weight.”</div>
-    <div class="verse"><i>She</i> “knew the Miller long ago,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And wonder’d <i>others</i> did not know.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">So all most prudently prepare</div>
-    <div class="verse">To trust their grain to better care.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Thus, by degrees the stores declin’d,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Till Whang had scarce a batch to grind.</div>
-    <div class="verse">No matter! Hope still talk’d the more</div>
-    <div class="verse">About his unfound hidden store:</div>
-    <div class="verse">But inauspicious yet appear’d</div>
-    <div class="verse">His wish; no warning voice was heard.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Now Mistress Whang, of nature humble,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Had smil’d to hear her husband grumble,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And would admonish him, ’tis said,</div>
-    <div class="verse">To chase vain phantoms from his head.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span>
-    <div class="verse">She, more incredulous, insisted</div>
-    <div class="verse">His visions ought to be resisted;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Thought they had chang’d his very nature,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And sourly curl’d each homely feature:</div>
-    <div class="verse">She felt full dearly they bestood</div>
-    <div class="verse">Sad substitutes for wholesome food.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">At issue long, as oft the case,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The war of words to peace gave place.</div>
-    <div class="verse">In truth the visionary Whang</div>
-    <div class="verse">Ceas’d now entirely to harangue</div>
-    <div class="verse">On this dear theme:—he hated <i>doubt</i>,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And Kate had many, staunch and stout:</div>
-    <div class="verse">And in a hostile muster, they</div>
-    <div class="verse">Gave her the better of the fray.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Though silent on his favourite theme,</div>
-    <div class="verse">He did resolve, when he <i>should</i> dream,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And <i>find</i> th’ anticipated pelf,</div>
-    <div class="verse">To <i>keep</i> the secret to <i>himself</i>;</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span>
-    <div class="verse">For he averr’d it “quite vexatious</div>
-    <div class="verse">His wife should be so pertinacious.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">No passions vain <i>her</i> heart misled:</div>
-    <div class="verse">The path of humble peace to tread</div>
-    <div class="verse">Was her sole aim; of this secure,</div>
-    <div class="verse">She felt content, nor sigh’d for more.</div>
-    <div class="verse">She griev’d to find her counsels failing,</div>
-    <div class="verse">They were sincere, though unavailing;</div>
-    <div class="verse">And oft midst wishes, fears, and sighs,</div>
-    <div class="verse">’Twas thus she would soliloquise:—</div>
-    <div class="verse">“My pretty window! that commands</div>
-    <div class="verse">Those meadows green, and wooded lands,</div>
-    <div class="verse">So sunny, that the latest ray</div>
-    <div class="verse">Its panes receive of parting day.</div>
-    <div class="verse">O! with what joy, when near it plac’d,</div>
-    <div class="verse">I’ve watch’d my husband homeward haste!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Or heard, from fair returning late,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The welcome sounds of ‘Holla, Kate!’</div>
-    <div class="verse">Through it I trace on every hand</div>
-    <div class="verse">Beauties, would grace a fairy-land,</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span>
-    <div class="verse">And think that, like a grateful eye,</div>
-    <div class="verse">It smiles on all beneath the sky.</div>
-    <div class="verse">There, too, my sweet geranium blows,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And mignionette, and crimson rose,</div>
-    <div class="verse">When all without is clad in snows.</div>
-    <div class="verse">I doubt me, if a princess feels</div>
-    <div class="verse">More joy than that which o’er me steals,</div>
-    <div class="verse">When light and morn my slumbers break,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And to this blissful scene I wake.</div>
-    <div class="verse">I cannot form a wish beside</div>
-    <div class="verse">What Heaven’s bounty has supplied,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Save that to Whang I could impart</div>
-    <div class="verse">The same content that fills my heart;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Yield him that thankful state of rest,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Or teach to <i>prize the good possess’d</i>.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">Good fortune seldom comes too late;</div>
-    <div class="verse">For lo! at last indulgent Fate</div>
-    <div class="verse">Smil’d on the importunate swain,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And eas’d at length his anxious pain.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Dreams—one,—two,—three,—th’ important number,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Omen’d him hence to quit his slumber,</div>
-    <div class="verse">With spade and mattock arm’d, to delve</div>
-    <div class="verse">Six feet—nay, I believe ’twas twelve,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Close by the long-forsaken mill—</div>
-    <div class="verse">He flies, the mission to fulfil!</div>
-    <div class="verse">The mattock rings, the spade descends,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The sturdy arm its vigour lends;</div>
-    <div class="verse">At such light labour who could sleep?</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whang is already three feet deep!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Upon the spade observe him smile:</div>
-    <div class="verse">What sees he?—what?—a broken tile;</div>
-    <div class="verse">The very tile his dream foretold,</div>
-    <div class="verse">A landmark to his pan of gold!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Upturns one token more—a bone!</div>
-    <div class="verse">And now, behold the broad flat stone!</div>
-    <div class="verse">A moment on its ample size</div>
-    <div class="verse">He gaz’d with wide distended eyes—</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Beneath <i>that</i> is the pan!” he cries.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span>
-    <div class="verse">“’Twas under such a stone as this</div>
-    <div class="verse">That neighbour Drowsypate found his.</div>
-    <div class="verse">So then, at last, my hopes are crown’d!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Come, then, let’s raise thee from the ground.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">But, ere to lift the stone he tries,</div>
-    <div class="verse">He shook his head, not over wise,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And, with a self-approving glance,</div>
-    <div class="verse">One foot a little in advance,</div>
-    <div class="verse">With nose and lip contemptuous curl’d,</div>
-    <div class="verse">That said, “A fig for all the world!”</div>
-    <div class="verse">He cried, “My wife, she, silly trot!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Shall never know the wealth I’ve got:</div>
-    <div class="verse">To punish her I made a <i>vow</i>;</div>
-    <div class="verse">The time is come, I’ll keep it now.</div>
-    <div class="verse">She could not dream, poor fool! not she;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Some trite old tale of ‘busy bee,’</div>
-    <div class="verse">Of saving pins, and pence, and groats,</div>
-    <div class="verse">For ever occupied <i>her</i> thoughts.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Besides, the hussey laugh’d outright</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whene’er I pass’d a dreamless night.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Yes, yes, I will requite her scorn;</div>
-    <div class="verse">She’ll rue it, sure as she is born!”——</div>
-    <div class="verse">Ah, bootless boast! the stone so great</div>
-    <div class="verse">Exceeds by far his strength in weight.</div>
-    <div class="verse">In vain he digs and delves the ground,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And clears away the rubbish round,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And gathering strength with his vexation,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Widens the fearful excavation.</div>
-    <div class="verse">He cannot move the stone for life;</div>
-    <div class="verse">So forc’d at last, he calls his wife,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Imparts the fact so long repress’d,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And glads, reluctantly, her breast.</div>
-    <div class="verse">The news he stated wak’d her fear;</div>
-    <div class="verse">What gave delight at first to hear,</div>
-    <div class="verse">One apprehension turn’d to pain—</div>
-    <div class="verse">She trembled for her husband’s brain.</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Can it be true?” cried she, misdeeming;</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Dear Whang, too surely thou <i>art dreaming</i>:</div>
-    <div class="verse">Try, recollect thyself, good man—”</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Tut, hussey! why, I’ll shew the pan:</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Only a minute’s help I ask,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And thou shalt see’t—a trifling task</div>
-    <div class="verse">Just to remove, I know not what,</div>
-    <div class="verse">A stone, it may be, from the spot.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Come, come, thy hand.” They gain the door,</div>
-    <div class="verse">When, turning, Kate asks, “<i>Are you sure?</i>”</div>
-    <div class="verse">“<i>Sure? yes</i>,” vociferates her spouse.</div>
-    <div class="verse">This said, they issue from the house—</div>
-    <div class="verse">“I’m <i>certain</i>, as to all I’ve told,</div>
-    <div class="verse">As if e’en <i>now</i> I <i>touch’d</i> the <i>gold</i>:</div>
-    <div class="verse"><i>Sure</i> as that I no more will bear</div>
-    <div class="verse">This russet doublet now to wear:—</div>
-    <div class="verse">That I no more will condescend</div>
-    <div class="verse">To own Ralph Roughspeech for <i>my friend</i>,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Nor tolerate the pert monition</div>
-    <div class="verse">Of neighbours, in my chang’d condition:</div>
-    <div class="verse"><i>Sure</i>—but, ye Powers! what do I see?—</div>
-    <div class="verse">The mill! the mill!—Oh! woe is me!</div>
-    <div class="verse">My only stay, my certain aid,</div>
-    <div class="verse">All level with the earth is laid!——</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Presumptuous! I have scorn’d my fate,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And wrought this mischief: all too late</div>
-    <div class="verse">The error of my life I see,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And misery my portion be.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Time, that no more I may recal,</div>
-    <div class="verse">By wise men priz’d, and dear to all,</div>
-    <div class="verse">How have I squander’d! how abus’d!</div>
-    <div class="verse">My friends, my neighbours, basely us’d!</div>
-    <div class="verse">How shall I bear, acquaintance meeting,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Scorn to behold where once was greeting?</div>
-    <div class="verse">Now comes <i>their</i> turn to treat the fool</div>
-    <div class="verse">With jeers, contempt, and ridicule.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Laugh’d at on all sides—and to know</div>
-    <div class="verse">And <i>feel</i> I have <i>deserv’d</i> the blow!</div>
-    <div class="verse">Undone by mine own discontent!—</div>
-    <div class="verse">But ah! too late I do repent.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Forc’d now in poverty to roam,</div>
-    <div class="verse">I soon must quit this quiet home;</div>
-    <div class="verse">And where with thee, poor Kate! to fly?—</div>
-    <div class="verse">Oh! I could lay me down and die!</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Wretch that I am! Kate, Kate, forgive!”</div>
-    <div class="verse">“<i>My</i> pardon, dearest Whang, receive:</div>
-    <div class="verse">But ’twas not <i>I</i> who gave thee health,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Strength, talent to improve thy wealth;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Who cast thy lot in such fair land,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Or bless’d thee with such liberal hand.</div>
-    <div class="verse">O! turn to <i>Him</i> with thankful prayer</div>
-    <div class="verse">Who deigns e’en yet thy life to spare;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Implore His pardon—kneel with me;</div>
-    <div class="verse">This ruin might have cover’d <i>thee</i>.</div>
-    <div class="verse">But thou art spar’d, and yet remain</div>
-    <div class="verse">The means our livelihood to gain:</div>
-    <div class="verse">A heartfelt willing perseverance</div>
-    <div class="verse">Will mend our lot before a year hence.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Thou knowest well that neighbour Ralph</div>
-    <div class="verse">Each morn will spare an hour or half</div>
-    <div class="verse">To help us to repair the mill.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Doest think,” Whang blushing ask’d, “he will?”</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Yes, yes, I do believe so too,</div>
-    <div class="verse">He was a neighbour kind and true;</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span>
-    <div class="verse">And if his counsels gave offence,</div>
-    <div class="verse">The fault was in my want of sense.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Yet, ideot! I”—“Enough!” cried Kate,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Exulting in her alter’d mate;</div>
-    <div class="verse">“To see our faults in their just light,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Is next akin to acting right.</div>
-    <div class="verse">But time no longer let us waste;</div>
-    <div class="verse">I’ll to friend Roughspeech quickly haste:</div>
-    <div class="verse">Own thou, meanwhile,” she smiling cried,</div>
-    <div class="verse">“To have a help-mate in thy bride</div>
-    <div class="verse">Is <i>treasure perhaps</i> of equal worth</div>
-    <div class="verse">With <i>aught conceal’d beneath the earth</i>.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">With look of conscious proud delight,</div>
-    <div class="verse">She caught the sound of, “Kate, thou’rt right;”</div>
-    <div class="verse">While a “small voice” responsive join’d</div>
-    <div class="verse">Applausive music in her mind.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">Then turn’d she from the yawning ground,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And, eying Whang with thought profound,</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Saw in his look, on her that bent,</div>
-    <div class="verse">A meaning most intelligent.</div>
-    <div class="verse">A wish defin’d she saw, and knelt;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Beside her soon his form she felt:</div>
-    <div class="verse">Then, with join’d hands uplift in air,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Burst from their lips the ardent prayer.</div>
-    <div class="verse">With brighter hopes from earth they rose,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Nor long (—for so the story goes)</div>
-    <div class="verse">In idle wailings spent the day:</div>
-    <div class="verse">Just then a neighbour pass’d that way.—</div>
-    <div class="verse">Whang turn’d his head; a crimson streak</div>
-    <div class="verse">Rush’d hastily across his cheek,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And Cath’rine’s palpitating breast</div>
-    <div class="verse">A momentary shame confess’d:</div>
-    <div class="verse">For well they knew, Old Robin’s tale</div>
-    <div class="verse">Soon through the village would prevail,</div>
-    <div class="verse">And bring a host about their ears,</div>
-    <div class="verse">With pity some, and some with jeers.</div>
-    <div class="verse">But <i>guilt</i> and <i>folly</i> must endure</div>
-    <div class="verse">The <i>caustics</i> that effect a cure.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span>
-    <div class="verse">Whang therefore strove, with patient heart,</div>
-    <div class="verse">To bear th’ anticipated smart;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Nor vainly strove: the threaten’d ill</div>
-    <div class="verse">Fell, he with patience met it still.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Few in the morning of his grief</div>
-    <div class="verse">Or gave, or proffer’d him relief.</div>
-    <div class="verse">Those who had <i>counsell’d heretofore</i>,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Excus’d themselves from doing more,</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Presuming nothing <i>they</i> could offer</div>
-    <div class="verse">Would meet acceptance from the scoffer.”</div>
-    <div class="verse">Others, meanwhile, of nature good,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Assisted, comforted, withstood</div>
-    <div class="verse">With honest scorn the worldling’s cant,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Nor shunn’d a neighbour, though in want.</div>
-    <div class="verse">To all, Whang bore an humble mien,</div>
-    <div class="verse">By all, his contrite spirit’s seen;</div>
-    <div class="verse">Till even they who smil’d at first,</div>
-    <div class="verse">When o’er his head the tempest burst,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Were forc’d, in justice, to declare</div>
-    <div class="verse">His penitence <i>appear’d sincere</i>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span>
-    <div class="verse">“They trusted, nay, <i>almost believ’d</i></div>
-    <div class="verse">His loss of character retriev’d:”</div>
-    <div class="verse">And, soften’d by his chang’d address,</div>
-    <div class="verse">“Good fortune <i>wish’d</i>, and happiness.”</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">And he <i>was</i> happy—“he was bless’d</div>
-    <div class="verse">Beyond desert,” he oft confessed,</div>
-    <div class="verse">By friends, by all the good caress’d.</div>
-    <div class="verse">A smiling garden, rescu’d mill,</div>
-    <div class="verse">His dear old cottage on the hill,</div>
-    <div class="verse">A faithful wife, a conscience clear,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Shed brightness on each coming year.</div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="stanza">
-    <div class="verse indent2">The church-yard stone, that bears his name,</div>
-    <div class="verse">Records his failing and his fame;</div>
-    <div class="verse">And, in his life and death, conveys</div>
-    <div class="verse">A moral truth to future days.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="titlepage">FINIS.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-
-<img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="600" height="600" alt="" />
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="verse">Burst from their lips the ardent prayer.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right"><a href="#Page_28"><i>Page 28.</i></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-
-<img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="600" height="600" alt="" />
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="verse">’Tis lucky that I have my health.</div>
-  <div class="verse">Since this poor mill is all my wealth:</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right"><a href="#Page_12"><i>Page 12.</i></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-
-<img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="600" height="600" alt="" />
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="verse">At eve before the cottage-door.</div>
-  <div class="verse">They talk’d the wondrous story o’er;</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right"><a href="#Page_14"><i>Page 14.</i></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-
-<img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="600" height="600" alt="" />
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="verse">My pretty window! that commands</div>
-  <div class="verse">Those meadows green and wooded lands.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right"><a href="#Page_19"><i>Page 19.</i></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-
-<img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="600" height="600" alt="" />
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="verse">One foot a little in advance.</div>
-  <div class="verse">With nose and lip contemptuous curl’d.</div>
-  <div class="verse">That said, “A fig for all the world!”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right"><a href="#Page_22"><i>Page 22.</i></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-
-<img src="images/illus6.jpg" width="600" height="600" alt="" />
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-  <div class="verse">——ye Powers! what do I see?——</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="right"><a href="#Page_24"><i>Page 24.</i></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<hr class="pgx" />
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