Then turn to-night, and freely share
• Whate'er my cell bestows;

My rushy couch, and frugal fare,
My bleffing and repofe.

No flocks that range the valley free,
To flaughter I condemn :

【 Taught by that power that pities me,
I learn to pity them.

A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'd, • And water from the fpring.

Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego;
• All earth-born cares are wrong:
Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.'

Soft as the dew from heav'n defcends,
His gentle accents fell:

The modeft ftranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obfcure

The lonely mansion lay,

A refuge to the neighbouring poor
And strangers led aftray.

No ftores beneath its humble thatch

Requir'd a master's care;
The wicket opening with a latch,
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

And now when bufy crowds retire
To take their evening reft,
The hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheer'd his penfive guest

And spread his vegetable store,
And gayly preft and fmil'd,
And skill'd in legendary lore,
The lingering hours beguil'd..

Around in sympathetic mirth
Its tricks the kitten tries,

The cricket chirrups in the hearth;
The crackling faggot flies.

But

But nothing could a charm impart.
To footh the stranger's woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.

His rifing cares the hermit spy'd,
With answering care oppreft:

And whence, unhappy youth,' he cry'd, "The forrows of thy breast?

From better habitations fpura'd,
Reluctant doft thou rove;

Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,
Or unregarded love?

Alas! the joys that fortune brings,

Are trifling, and decay;

And those who prize the paltry things, • More trifling ftill than they."

And what is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to fleep;

• A fhade that follows wealth or fame,

And love is still an emptier found,
The modern fair one's jeft,
On earth unseen, or only found
To warm the turtle's neft.

For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows husht, And fpurn the fex,' he said: But, while he spoke, a rising blush His love-torn guest betray'd.

Surpriz'd he fees new beauties rife
Swift mantling to the view,
Like colours o'er the morning fkies,
As bright, as tranfient too.

The bafhful look, the rifing breast,
Alternate spread alarms,
The lovely ftranger stands confeft
A maid in all her charms.

And, ah, forgive a stranger rude,
A wretch forlorn,' fhe cry'd,

• Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude
• Where heav'n and you refide.

But

But let a maid thy pity share,

• Whom love has taught to stray; Who feeks for reft, but finds defpair • Companion of her way.

My father liv'd beside the Tyne,
A wealthy lord was he';

And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, He had but only me.

To win me from his tender arms,
• Unnumber'd fuitors came;

Who prais'd me for imputed charms,
And felt or feign'd a flame.

Each hour a mercenary crowd
With richest proffers strove:
Among the reft young Edwin bow'd,
But never talk'd of love.

In humble fimpleft habit clad,
No wealth nor power had he;

• Wisdom and worth were all he had,

But these were all to me.