In this scene of earthly things
Not one good unmixed springs.
That which had to Martha proved
A sweet consolation, moved
Different feelings of regret
In the mind of Margaret.

She, whose love was not less dear,
Nor affection less sincere

To her friend, was, by occasion
Of more distant habitation,
Fewer visits forc'd to pay her,
When no other cause did stay her;
And her Mary living nearer,
Margaret began to fear her,
Lest her visits day by day

Martha's heart should steal away.

That whole heart she ill could spare her,

Where till now she'd been a sharer.
From this cause with grief she pined,

Till at length her health declined.

All her chearful spirits flew,
Fast as Martha gather'd new;
And her sickness waxed sore,
Just when Martha felt no more.

Mary, who had quick suspicion
Of her alter'd friend's condition,
Seeing Martha's convalescence
Less demanded now her presence,
With a goodness, built on reason,
Chang'd her measures with the season;
Turn'd her steps from Martha's door,
Went where she was wanted more ;
All her care and thoughts were set
Now to tend on Margaret.

Mary living 'twixt the two,
From her home could oft'ner go,

Either of her friends to see,

Than they could together be..

Truth explain'd is to suspicion Evermore the best physician. Soon her visits had the effect; All that Margaret did suspect, From her fancy vanish'd clean; She was soon what she had been, And the colour she did lack

To her faded cheek came back.

Wounds which love had made her feel, Love alone had power to heal.

Martha, who the frequent visit
Now had lost, and sore did miss it,.
With impatience waxed cross,
Counted Margaret's gain her loss:
All that Mary did confer

On her friend, thought due to her..
In her girlish bosom rise
Little foolish jealousies,

Which into such rancour wrought,
She one day for Margaret sought;
Finding her by chance alone,
She began, with reasons shown,
To insinuate a fear

Whether Mary was sincere;

Wish'd that Margaret would take heed
Whence her actions did proceed.

For herself, she'd long been minded.
Not with outsides to be blinded;
All that pity and compassion,
She believ'd was affectation;

In her heart she doubted whether
Mary car'd a pin for either.

She could keep whole weeks at distance,
And not know of their existence,
While all things remain'd the same;

But, when some misfortune came,

Then she made a great parade
Of her sympathy and aid,-
Not that she did really grieve,
It was only make-believe,

And she car'd for nothing, so
She might her fine feelings shew,
And get credit, on her part,

For a soft and tender heart.

With such speeches, smoothly made, She found methods to persuade

Margaret (who, being sore

From the doubts she'd felt before,

Was prepared for mistrust)

To believe her reasons just ;
Quite destroy'd that comfort glad,
Which in Mary late she had;
Made her, in experience' spite,
Think her friend a hypocrite,
And resolve, with cruel scoff,
To renounce and cast her off.

See how good turns are rewarded!

She of both is now discarded,

Who to both had been so late

Their support in low estate,

All their comfort, and their stay-
Now of both is cast away.

But the league her presence cherish'd,
Losing its best prop, soon perish'd;
She, that was a link to either,
To keep them and it together,
Being gone, the two (no wonder)
That were left, soon fell asunder ;-
Some civilities were kept,

But the heart of friendship slept;
Love with hollow forms was fed,
But the life of love lay dead :-
A cold intercourse they held,
After Mary was expell'd.

Two long years did intervene
Since they'd either of them seen,
Or, by letter, any word

Of their old companion heard,-
When, upon a day, once walking,
Of indifferent matters talking,
They a female figure met;-
Martha said to Margaret,

"That young maid in face does carry A resemblance strong of Mary."