Page:The Family Legend.pdf/164



here I am, those scenes of suff'ring o'er, Safe among you, "a widow'd thing" no more; And though some squeamish critics still contend That not so soon the tragic tone should end, Nor flippant Epilogue, with smiling face, Elbow her serious sister from the place; I stand prepared with precedent and custom, To plead the adverse doctrine—Won't you trust' em? I think you will, and now the curtain's down. Unbend your brows, nor on my prattle frown. You've seen how, in our country's ruder age, Our moody lords would let their vassals rage, And while they drove men's herds, and burnt their houses, To some lone isle condemn'd their own poor spouses; Their portion—drowning when the tide should serve; Their separate aliment—a leave to starve; And for the Scottish rights of Dower and Tierce, A deep-sea burial, and an empty hearse.