Poor Peggy, who her joy no more could check,
Clung like a dewy woodbine round his neck,
And all stood silent--Gilbert, off his guard,
And marvelling at virtue's rich reward,
Loos'd the one loop that held his coat before,
Down thumpt the broken crutch upon the floor!
They started, half alarm'd, scarce knowing why,
But through the glist'ning rapture of his eye
The bridegroom smil'd, then chid their simple fears,
And rous'd the blushing Peggy from her tears;

Gilbert put upon his Defense.

Around the uncle in a ring they came,
And mark'd his look of mingled pride and shame.
"Now honestly, good Gilbert, tell us true
What meant this cudgel? What was it to do?
I know your heart suspected me of wrong,
And that most true affection urg'd along
Your feelings and your wrath; you were beside
Till now the rightful guardian of the bride.
But why this cudgel?"--"Guardian! that's the case,
Or else to day you had not seen my face,
But John about the girl was so perplex'd,
And I, to tell the truth, so mortal vex'd,
That when he broke _this crutch_, and stampt and cried,
For John and Peggy, Sir, I could have died,
I know I could; for she was such a child,
So tractable, so sensible, and mild,