AR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age, a rev'rend hermit grew;
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well: Remote from man, with God he pass'd his days, Pray'r all his business, all his pleasure praise.
A life so sacred, such serene repose, Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose; That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey, This sprung fome doubt of providence's sway. His hopes no more a certain prospect boast, And all the tenor of his foul is loft:
So when a smooth expanse receives impress'd Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast; Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow, And skies beneath with answ'ring colours glow; But if a stone the gentle sea divide,
Swift ruffling circles curl on ev'ry side; And glimm'ring fragments of a broken sun, Banks, trees, and skies, in thick disorder run.
To clear this doubt, to know the world by fight,
To find if books or swains report it right, (For yet by swains alone the world he knew, Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew)
He quits his cell; the pilgrim-staff he bore, And fix'd the scallop in his hat before;
Then with the fun a rifing journey went, Sedate to think, and watching each event.
The morn was wasted in the pathless grass, And long and lonesome was the wild to pass; But when the fouthern sun had warm'd the day, A youth came posting o'er a croffing way : His raiment decent, his complexion fair, And foft in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair. Then near approaching, Father, hail! he cry'd; And, Hail, my fon, the rev'rend fire reply'd; Words follow'd words, from question answer flow'd, And talk of various kinds deceiv'd the road; Till each with other pleas'd, and loth to part, While in their age they differ, join in heart; Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound, Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.
Now sunk the fun, the clofing hour of day of Came onward, mantled o'er with sober grey : Nature in filence bid the world repose, When near the road a stately palace rose: There by the moon, thro' ranks of trees they pass, Whose verdure crown'd their floping fides of grass. It chanc'd the noble master of the dome
Still makes his house the wand'ring stranger's home; Yet still the kindness, from a thirst of praise, Prov'd the vain flourish of expensive ease. The pair arrive, the livery servants wait, Their lord receives them at the pompous gate. The table groans with costly piles of food,
And all is more than hospitably good.
Then led to rest, the day's long toil they drown, Deep funk in sleep, and filk, and heaps of down. At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day
Along the wide canals the zephyrs play; Fresh o'er the gay parterres the breezes creep, And shake the neighb'ring woods to banish sleep. Up rise the guests, obedient to the call, An early banquet deck'd the splendid hall; Rich luscious wine a golden goblet grac'd, Which the kind master forc'd the guests to taste. Then pleas'd and thankful from the porch they go, And (but the landlord) none had cause of woe; His cup was vanish'd; for in secret guise The younger guest purloin'd the glitt'ring prize. As one who spies a ferpent in his way, Glift'ning and basking in the summer ray, Disorder'd stops, to shun the danger near, Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear: So feem'd the fire, when far upon the road, The shining fpoil his wily partner show'd, He stopt with filence, walk'd with trembling heart, And much he wish'd, but durst not ask to part: Murm'ring, he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard That gen'rous actions meet a base reward.
While thus they pass, the sun his glory shrouds, The changing skies hang out their sable clouds : A found in air presag'd approaching rain, And beafts to covert scud across the plain. Warn'd by the signs, the wand'ring pair retreat, To feek for shelter at a neighb'ring feat.
'Twas built with turrets, on a rifing ground, And strong, and large, and unimprov'd around: Its owner's temper, tim'rous and fevere, Unkind and griping, caus'd a defert there.
As near the miser's heavy doors they drew, Fierce rising gusts with fudden fury blew; The nimble lightning mix'd with showers began, And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran; Here long they knock, but knock and call in vain, Driv'n by the winds and batter'd by the rain. At length fome pity warm'd the master's breast; ('Twas then his threshold first receiv'd a guest.) Slow creaking turns the door with jealous care, And half he welcomes in the shiv'ring pair; One frugal faggot lights the naked walls, And nature's fervor thro' their limbs recalls, Bread of the coarsest fort, with eager wine, (Each hardly granted) serv'd them both to dine; And when the tempeft first appear'd to cease, A ready warning bid them part in peace.
With still remark the pond'ring hermit view'd In one fo rich, a life so poor and rude; And why should such (within himself, he cry'd) Lock the loft wealth a thousand want beside ? But what new marks of wonder foon took place, In ev'ry settling feature of his face, When from his vest the young companion bore That cup, the gen'rous landlord own'd before, And paid profusely with the precious bowl The stinted kindness of his churlish soul!
But now the clouds in airy tumults fly, The fun emerging opes an azure sky; A fresher green the smelling leaves display, And glitt'ring as they tremble, chear the day; The weather courts them from their poor retreat, And the glad master bolts the wary gate. While hence they walk, the pilgrim's bosom wrought With all the travail of uncertain thought; His partner's acts without their cause appear, 'Twas there a VICE, but seem'd a madness here. Detesting THAT, and pitying THIS, he goes, Loft and confounded with the various shows.
Now night's dim fhades again involve the sky;
Again the wand'rers want a place to lie, Again they search, and find a mansion nigh. The foil improv'd around, the manfion neat,
And neither poorly low nor idly great:
It seem'd to speak its master's turn of mind, Content, and not for praise, but virtue kind.
Hither the walkers turn their weary feet, Then bless the manfion, and the master greet: Their greeting fair bestow'd with modeft guise, The courteous master hears, and thus replies : Without a vain, without a grudging heart, To him who gives us all, I yield a part; From him you come, from him accept it here, A frank and sober, more than costly chear. He spoke, and bid the welcome table spread, Then talk'd of virtue till the time of bed;
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