« السابقةمتابعة »
"Here to the houseless child of want
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 condemu; Taught by that Power that pities nie,
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 heav'n descends,
His gentle accents fell;
And follows to the cell.
Far in a wilderness obscure
The lonely mansion lay, A refuge to the neighbouring poor,
And strangers led astray.
No stores beneath its humble thatch
Requir'd a master's care;
Receiv'd the harmless pair.
And now, when busy crowds retire
To take their evening rest, The Hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheerd his pensive guest;
And spread his vegetable store,
And gaily prest, and smild, And, skill'd in legendary lore,
The lingʻring hours beguild.
Around in sympathetic mirth
Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups in the hearth,
The crackling faggot flies.
But nothing could a charm impart
To sooth the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.
His rising cares the Hermit spy'd,
With answering care opprest; “ And whence, unhappy youth,” he cry'd,
"The sorrows of thy breast?
"From better habitations spurn’d,
Reluctant dost thou rove;
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;
And 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-loro guest betray'd.
Surpris'd he sees new beauties rise
Swift mantling to the view,
As bright, as transient too.
The bashful look, the rising breast,
Alternate spread alarms,
A maid in all her charms.
.And, ah! forgive a stranger rude,
A wretch forlorn," she cry'd, “Whose feet unballow'd thus intrude
Where heaven and you reside.
“But let a maid thy pity share,
Whom love has taught to stray; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair
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 suitors cane; 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 rest young Edwin bow'd,
But never talk'd of love.
“In humblest, simplest habit clad,
No wealth nor power had he;
But these were all to me.
“The blossom opening to the day,
The dews of heaven refin’d,
To emulate his mind.
“ The dew, the blossoms of 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 died.