"TURA
URN, gentle hermit of the dale,

" And guide my lonely way, “ To where yon taper cheers the vale,

“ With hospitable ray.

« For here forlorn and loft I tread,

“ With fainting steps and low; " Where wilds immcafurably spread,

" Seem lengthening as I go."

• Forbear my son," the hermit cries,

"To tempt the dang'rous gloom; " For yonder faithless phantom flies " To lure thee to thy doom.

P

" Here to the houseless child of want,

My door is open fill; " And tho' 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 repole.

“ No flocks that range the valley free,

“ To Naughter I condemn :
Taught by that power that pities me,
“ I learn to pity them :

" But from the mountain's grassy Gide

“ A guiltless feast I bring; “ A scrip with herbs and fruits supply'd,

" And water from the spring.

- Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ;

- For 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 :
The modeft stranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.

l'ar in a wilderness obscure

The lonely manfion lay ;
A refuge to the neighbouring poor,

And stranger's led astray.

No ftores beneath its humble thatch

Requir'd a master's care ;
The wicket op'ning with a latch,

Receiv'd the harmless pair.

And now when busy crowds retire

To take their evening reft,
The hermit trimni'd his little fire,

And cheer'd his pensive gueft ;

And spread his vegetable store,

And gayly preft, and smild ; And fkill'd in legendary lore,

The ling’ring hour beguil'd.
Around in fympathetic mirth

Its tricks the kitten tries ;
The cricket chirups in the hearth ;

The crackling faggot flics.
But nothing could a charm impart

To footh the stranger's woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,

And tears began to flow.
His rifing cares the hermit fpy'd,

With answ'ring care oppreft : " And whence, unhappy youth,” he cry'd,

“ The forrows of thy breaft?

“ From better habitations spurn'd,

- Reluctant doft thou rove: " Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,

" Or unregarded love?

• Alas the joys that fortune brings,

“ Are trifling and decay ; 6 And those who prize the paltry things,“

“ More trilling till than they.

“ And what is friendship but a name,

• A charm that lulls to Neep ; 6 A shade that follows wealth or fame,

" 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 forrows huih,

“ And spurn the fex,” he said : But while he spoke, a rising blush

His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Surpriz'd he fees new beauties rise,

Swift mantling to the view;
Like colours o'er the morning kies,

As bright, as tranfient too.

The bashful look, the rifing breast,

Alternate spread alarms:
The lovely stranger stands confert

A maid in all her charms.

" And, ah, forgive a stranger rude,

" A wretch forlorn,” he cry'd ; 5. Whose feet anhallow'd thus intrude 6. Where heaven and

you

reside.

" But let a maid thy pity, share,

“ Whom love has taught to stray ; " Who feeks 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 came;
Who prais'd me for imputed charms,
" And felt, or feign'd a flame.

• Each hour a mercenary crowd

w With richest proffers ftrove ; " Among the rest young Edwin bow'd,

« But never talk d of love.

* In humble, fimpleft habit clad, .

* No wealth or pow'r had he ; * Wisdom and worth were all he had,

". But these were all to me.

“ The blossom op'ning to the day,

“ The dews of heav'n refin'd, “ Could nought of purity display,

“ To emulate his mind.

" The dew, the blossoms of the tree,

“ With charms inconftant shine ; ". Their charms were his, but woe to me,

“ Their conftancy was mine.

" For still I try'd each fickle art,

" Importuoate 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 fecret, where he dy'd.

“ But mine the sorrow, mine the fault,
" And well
my life shall

pay ;
66 I'll seek the folitude he fought,

" And stretch me where he lay.

" And there, forlorn, despairing hid,