He takes no joy in office-see him now,
And Burgess Steel has but a passing bow;
Of one sad train of gloomy thoughts possess'd,
He takes no joy in friends, in food, in rest—
Dark are the evil days, and void of peace the best.
And thus he lives, if living be to sigh,

And from all comforts of the world to fly,
Without a hope in life-without a wish to die.

TALE XXI.

THE LEARNED BOY.

Like one well studied in a sad ostent,

To please his grandam.

Merchant of Venice, Act II. Scene 2.

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail,

Unwillingly to school.

As You Like It, Act II. Scene 7.

He is a better scholar than I thought he was

He has a good sprag memory.

Merry Wives of Windsor, Act IV. Scene 1.

TALE XXI.

THE LEARNED BOY.

AN honest man was Farmer Jones, and true,
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:

Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent Matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy:
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone-

Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.

Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead, To find such numbers who will serve instead: