THE HERMIT. "TURN, gentle hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way, To where yon taper cheers the vale "For here forlorn and lost I tread, "Forbear, my son," the hermit cries, "To tempt the dang'rous gloom; For yonder faithless phantom flies "Here to the houseless child of want My door is open still; And though my portion is but scant, " Then turn to-night, and freely share Whate'er my cell bestows; My rushy couch and frugal fare, "No flocks that range the valley free Taught by that pow'r that pities me, "But from the mountain's grassy side A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, "Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; All earth-born cares are wrong: Man wants but little here below, Soft as the dew from heav'n descends, His gentle accents fell: The modest stranger lowly bends, Far in a wilderness obscure The lonely mansion lay; A refuge to the neighb'ring poor No stores beneath its humble thatch Requir'd a master's care; The wicket, op'ning with a latch, And now when busy crowds retire To take their ev'ning rest, The hermit trimm'd his little fire, And cheer'd his pensive guest: And spread his vegetable store, Around in sympathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups in the hearth; But nothing could a charm impart To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the hermit spied, With answ'ring care opprest: " And whence, unhappy youth," he cried, The sorrows of thy breast? " From better habitations spurn'd, Reluctant dost thou rove, Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, "Alas! the joys that fortune brings And those who prize the paltry things, "And what is friendship but a name, A shade that follows wealth or fame, " 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. |