« AnteriorContinuar »
Force not my tongue to ask its scanty bread,
Nor hurl thy Jessy to the vulgar crew; Not so the parent's board at which I fed !
Not such the precept from his lips I drew! Haply, when age has silver'd o'er my hair, ,
Malice may learn to scorn so mean a spoil: Envy may slight a face no longer fair;
And pity welcome to my native soil.” She spoke -nor was I born of
savage race; Nor could these hands a niggard boon assign; Grateful she clasp'd me in a last embrace,
And vow'd to waste her life in pray'rs for mine. I saw her foot the lofty bark ascend;
I saw her breast with ev'ry passion heave; I left her, torn from ev'ry earthly friend;
O! hard my bosom, which could bear to leave.
Brief let me be; the fatal storm arose;
The billows rag'd; the pilot's art was vain: O'er the tall mast the circling surges close;
My Jessy floats upon the wat'ry plain! And see my youth's impetuous fires decay;
Seek not to stop reflection's bitter tear; But warn the frolic, and instruct the gay, From Jessy floating on her wat'ry bier!
Far 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 pleasuțe 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 some.doubt of Providence's
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast,
And all the tenor of his soul is lost:
So when a smooth expanse receives imprest
Calm nature's image on its watry breast,
Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow,
And skies beneath with answ’ring colours glow:
But if a stone the gentle scene 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 sight, 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 sun a rising 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 southern wind had warm’d the day,
A youth came posting o'er a crossing way;
His raiment decent, his complexion fair,
And soft in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair.
Then near approaching, Father, hail! he cry'd;
And hail, my son! the rev'rend sire reply'd :
Words follow'd words, from question answer flow'd,
And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road :
Till each with other pleas'd, and loath to part,
While in their age they disfer, join in heart;
Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound,
Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.
Now sunk the sun ; the closing hour of day
Came onward, mantled o'er with sober grey;
Nature in silence bid the world repose;
When near the road a stately palace rose
There by the moon throʻranks of trees they pass,
Whose verdure crown'd their sloping sides of grass;
It chanc'd the noble master of the dome
Still made 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'd 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 sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps of down.
At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day,
Alor:g the wide canals the zephyrs play;
Fresh o'er the gay parterres the breezes creep,
And shake the neighb’ring wood 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 glittring prize.
As one who spies a serpent in his way, Glist’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 seem'd the sire: when far upon the road,
The shining spoil his wily partner show'd.
He stopp'd with silence, walk'd with trembling
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 sound in air presag'd approaching rain, And beasts to covert scud across the plain. Warn'd by the signs, the wand'ring pair retreat, To seck for shelter at a neighb'ring seat. 'Twas built with turrets, on a rising ground, And strong, and large, and unimprov'd around; Its owner's temper, tim'rous and severe, Unkind and griping, caus'd a desert there. As near the miser's heavy doors they drew, Fierce rising gusts with sudden 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 some pity warm’d the maiter's breast, ('Twas then his threshold first receiv'd a guest)