His gentle accents fell:
The modest stranger lowly bends,
And follows to the cell.
The lonely mansion lay,
A refuge to the neighb’ring poor,
And strangers led astray.
Requir’d a master’s care;
The wicket, op’ning with a latch,
Receiv’d the harmless pair.
To take their ev’ning rest,
The Hermit trimm’d his little fire,
And cheer’d his pensive guest:
And gaily press’d, and smil’d
And skill’d in legendary lore
The ling’ring hours beguil’d.
Its tricks the kitten tries,
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,
The crackling faggot flies.
To soothe the stranger’s woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.
With answ’ring care opprest:
“And whence, unhappy youth,” he cried,
“The sorrows of thy breast?
Reluctant dost thou rove?
Or grieve for friendship unreturn’d,
Or unregarded love?
Are trifling and decay;
And those who prize the paltry things,
More trifling still than they.
A charm that lulls to sleep;
A shade that follows wealth or fame,
But leaves the wretch to weep?
The modern fair-one’s jest:
On earth unseen, or only found
To warm the turtle’s nest.
And spurn the sex,” he said:
But while he spoke, a rishing blush
His love-lorn guest betray’d.
Swift mantling to the view;
Like colours o’er the morning skies.
As bright, as transcient too.
Alternate spread alarms:
The lovely stranger stands confest
A maid in all her charms.
A wretch forlorn,” she cried;
“Whose feet unhallow’d thus intrude
Where Heav’n and you reside.
Whom love has taught to stray:
Who seeks for rest, but finds despair
Companion of her way.
A wealthy lord was he:
And all his wealth was mark’d as mine,
He had
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