"Here to the houseless child of want 66 My door is open still: "And though my portion is but scant, "I give it with good will. "Then turn to-night, and freely share "Whate'er my cell bestows; "My rushy couch and frugal fare, "My blessing and repose. "No flocks that range the valley free, "To slaughter I condemn ; "Taught by that Power that pities me, "I learn to pity them. "But from the mountain's grassy side, "A guiltless feast I bring; "A scrip with herbs and fruits supply'd, "And water from the spring. "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 heaven descends, His gentle accents fell : The modest stranger lowly bends, And follows to the cell. Far in a wilderness obscure The lonely mansion lay ; No stores beneath its humble thatch And now when busy crowds retire And spread his vegetable store, And, skill'd in legendary lore, Around in sympathetic mirth But nothing could a charm impart For grief was heavy at his heart, His rising cares the hermit spy'd, With answering care oppress'd: "And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd, "The sorrows of thy breast? "From better habitations spurn'd, "Reluctant dost 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 still than they. "And what is friendship but a name, « A charm that lulls to sleep; “ A shade that follows wealth or fame, "But leaves the wretch to weep? "And love is still an emptier sound, "The modern fair-one's jest ; "On earth unseen, or only found "To warm the turtle's nest. "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, "And spurn the sex," he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush His love-lorn guest betray'd. Surpris'd, he sees new beauties rise The bashful look, the rising breast, The lovely stranger stands confess'd And, "Ah, forgive a stranger rude, "But let a maid thy pity share, "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 suitors came; "Who prais'd me for imputed charms, "And felt or feign'd a flame. K 2 "Each hour a mercenary crowd 66 "With richest proffers strove : Among the rest young Edwin bow'd, "But never talk'd of love. "In humble, simplest habit clad, "Nor wealth nor power had he ; "Wisdom and worth were all he had, "But these were all to me. "The blossom opening to the day, "The dew, the blossom on the tree, "With charms inconstant shine; "Their charms were his, but woe to me! "Their constancy was mine. "For still I try'd each fickle art, Importunate and vain : "And while his passion touch'd my heart, "I triumph'd in his pain. "Till quite dejected with my scorn, "He left me to my pride; "And sought a solitude forlorn, "In secret, where he dy❜d. |