Has, with the Cup, the graceless cuftom loft,
And ftill he welcomes, but with lefs of coft.

"The mean, fufpicious Wretch, whofe bolted' door,
Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wandering poor;
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That heav'n can blefs, if mortals will be kind.
Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels compaffion touch his grateful foul.
Thus artifts melt the fullen oar of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,'
And, loofe from drofs, the filver runs below.

Long had our pious Friend in virtue trod,
But now the child half-wean'd his heart from God;
(Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain,
And meafur'd back his fteps to earth again.
To what excelles had his dotage run?
But GOD, to fave the Father, took the fon.
To all but thee, in fits he feem'd to go,
(And 'twas my miniftry to deal the blow.)
The poor fond parent, humbled in the duft
Now owns in tears the punishment was juft.

"But how had all his fortune felt a wrack,"
Had that falfe Servant fped in safety back?
This night his treafur'd heaps he meant to steal,
And what a fund of charity wou'd fail!

"Thus heav'n inftructs thy mind: this trial o'er, Depart in peace, refign, and fin no more."

On founding pinions here the Youth withdrew,
The Sage flood wond'ring as the Seraph flew.
Thus look'd Elifha, when to mount on high.
His Mafler took the chariot of the sky;
The fiery pomp afcending left the view;
The Prophet gaz'd, and wifh'd to follow too.

The bending Hermit here a pray'r begun,
"Lord! as in Heaven, on earth thy will be done.
Then gladly turning, fought his ancient place,
And pals'd a life of Piety and Peace.