How lovely the elder brother’s   
Life all laced in the other’s,   
Love-laced!—what once I well   
Witnessed; so fortune fell.   
When Shrovetide, two years gone,          
Our boys’ plays brought on   
Part was picked for John,   
Young John: then fear, then joy   
Ran revel in the elder boy.   
Their night was come now; all   
Our company thronged the hall;   
Henry, by the wall,   
Beckoned me beside him:   
I came where called, and eyed him   
By meanwhiles; making my play    
Turn most on tender byplay.   
For, wrung all on love’s rack,   
My lad, and lost in Jack,   
Smiled, blushed, and bit his lip;   
Or drove, with a diver’s dip,   
Clutched hands down through clasped knees—   
Truth’s tokens tricks like these,   
Old telltales, with what stress   
He hung on the imp’s success.   
Now the other was brass-bold:   
He had no work to hold   
His heart up at the strain;   
Nay, roguish ran the vein.   
Two tedious acts were past;   
Jack’s call and cue at last;   
When Henry, heart-forsook,   
Dropped eyes and dared not look.   
Eh, how all rung!   
Young dog, he did give tongue!   
But Harry—in his hands he has flung   
His tear-tricked cheeks of flame   
For fond love and for shame.   
  Ah Nature, framed in fault,   
There ’s comfort then, there ’s salt;   
Nature, bad, base, and blind,   
Dearly thou canst be kind;   
There dearly then, dearly,   
I’ll cry thou canst be kind.