To clear this doubt, to know the world by fight, To find if books, or swains, report it right; (For yet by fwains alone the world he knew, Whofe feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew) He quits his cell; the pilgrim-ftaff 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 wafted in the pathlefs grafs, And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road; Now funk the fun; the clofing hour of day Càme onward, mantled o'er. with fober grey; Nature in filence bid the world repofe:. When near the road a ftately palace rofe: There by the moon thro' ranks of trees they pafs, Whofe verdure crown'd their floping fides of grafs. It chanc'd the noble mafter of the dome, Still made his house the wand'ring stranger's home: Yet Yet ftill the kindness, from a thirst of praise, Deep funk in fleep, and filk, and heaps of down. At length 'tis morn, and, at the dawn of day, Along the wide canals the Zephyrs play; Up rise the guests, obedient to the call: Then pleas'd and thankful, from the porch they go; And, but the landlord, none had caufe of woe; His cup was vanish'd; for in fecret guise The younger guest purloin'd the glitt'ring prize. As one who fpies a ferpent in his way, Glift'ning and basking in the summer ray, Disorder'd ftops to fhun the danger near, Then walks with faintnefs on, and looks with fear: So feem'd the Sire; when far upon the road, The fhining spoil his wiley partner show'd. He He ftopp'd with filence, walk'd with trembling heart, And much he wifh'd, but durft not ask to part : Murm'ring he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard, That generous actions meet a base reward. While thus they pafs, the fun his glory fhrouds, The changing kies hang out their fable clouds; A found in air prefag'd approaching rain, And beafts to covert fcud a-crofs the plain. Warn'd by the figns, the wand'ring pair retreat, To seek for shelter at a neighb'ring feat. Its owner's temper, tim'rous and fevere, As near the mifer's heavy doors they drew, Fierce rifing gufts with fudden fury blew; The nimble light'ning mix'd with show'rs began, And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran. Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain, Driv'n by the wind, and batter'd by the rain. At length fome pity warm'd the mafter's breaft, ('Twas then, his threshold first receiv'd a gueft), Slow creaking turns the door with jealous care, And half he welcomes in the shivering pair; One One frugal faggot lights the naked walls, And nature's fervor thro' their limbs recals: Bread of the coarseft fort, with eager wine, (Each hardly granted) ferv'd them both to dine; And when the tempeft first appear'd to cease, A ready warning bid them part in peace. With ftill remark the pond'ring Hermit In one fo rich, a Life fo poor and rude; In ev'ry fettling feature of his face! When from his veft the young companion bore That cup, the gen'rous landlord own'd be fore, And paid profufely with the precious bowl The stinted kindness of this churlish foul. But now the clouds in airy tumult fly, The fun emerging opes an azure sky; A fresher green the fmelling leaves display, And glitt'ring as they tremble, chear the day: The weather courts them from the poor re treat, And the glad mafter bolts the wary gate. While hence they walk, the pilgrim's bofom wrought, With all the travel of uncertain thought; His partner's acts without their caufe appear, 'Twas there a vice, and feem'd a madness here: Detefting that, and pitying this he goes, Loft and confounded with the various fhows. Now Now night's dim fhades again involve the fky, Again the wand'rers want a place to ly, The courteous mafter 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, for him accept it here, A frank and fober, more than coftly cheer. He spoke, and bid the welcome table spread, Then talk'd of virtue till the time of bed, When the grave houshold round his hall repair, Warn'd by a bell, and close the hours with pray'r. At length the world renew'd by calm repofe Was ftrong for toil, the dappled morn arose; Before the pilgrims part, the younger crept,Near the clos'd cradle where an infant flept. And writh'd his neck: the landlord's little pride, O ftrange return.! grew black, and gafp'd, and dy'd. Horror of horrors ! what! his only fon! How look'd our Hermit when the fact was done? Not |