One sad evening—never, never
Can that evening be forgot;
Something came, across our father,
Anger—grief—we knew not what.
From that time his mind seemed wandering,
And his manly look was gone;
Sometimes kind, and sometimes fretful,
Constant to one vice alone.
Constant to one guilty pleasure,
When those fatal doors were passed,
Shame was vanquished, conscience followed,
All our comforts went at last.
Long my mother bore in silence
Loss of plenty, loss of fame;
Though sometimes the gossip’s slander
Tinged her faded cheek with sha............