The Confession.

All doubts gave way, all retrospective lore, Whence cooler Reason tortur'd him before; Comparison of times, the Lab'rer's hire, And many a truth Reflection might inspire, Sunk powerless. 'Dame, I am a fool,' he cried; 'Alone I might have reason'd till I died. 'I caus'd those tears of Jane's:—but as they fell 'How much I felt none but ourselves can tell. 'While dastard fears withheld me from her sight; 'Sighs reign'd by day and hideous dreams by night; ''Twas then the Soldier's plume and rolling Drum 'Seem'd for a while to strike my sorrows dumb; 'To fly from Care then half resolv'd I stood, 'And without horror mus'd on fields of blood, 'But Hope prevail'd.—Be then the sword resign'd; 'And I'll make Shares for those that stay behind, 'And you, sweet Girl,'——— He would have added more, Had not a glancing shadow at the door