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And why should such' (within himself he cried) • Lock the lost wealth a thousand want beside ? But what new marks of wonder soon took place, In every setting feature of his face ; When from his vest the young companion bore That cup, the generous landlord own'd before, And paid profusely with the precious bowl The stinted kindness of this churlish soul !
But now the clouds in airy tumult fly; The sun emerging opes an azure sky; A fresher green the smelling leaves display, And, glittering as they tremble, cheer the day : The weather courts them from the poor retreat, And the glad master bolts the wary gate. While hence they walk, the pilgrim's bosom
wrought With all the travel of uncertain thought; His partner's acts without their cause appear, "Twas there a vice, and seem'd a madness here: Detesting that, and pitying this, he goes, Lost and confounded with the various shows.
Now night's dim shades again involve the sky, ) Again the wanderers want a place to lie, Again they search, and find a lodging nigh. The soil improv'd around, the mansion neat, And neither poorly low, nor idly great: It seem'd to speak its master's turn of mind, Content, and, not for praise but virtue, kind.
Hither the walkers turn with weary feet, Then bless the mansion, and the master greet; Their greeting fair, bestow'd with modest guise, The courteous master hears, and thus replies :
"Without a vain, without a grudging heart, To Him who gives us all, I yield a part; .
From him you come, from him accept it here,
At length the world, renew'd by calm repose,
Confus'd, and struck with silence at the deed, He flies, but, trembling, fails to fly with speed. His steps the youth pursues; the country lay Perplex'd with roads, a servant show'd the way: A river cross'd the path; the passage o'er Was nice to find : the servant trod before; Long arms of oaks an open'd bridge supplied, And deep the waves beneath the bending glide. The youth, who seem'd to watch a time to sin, Approach'd the careless guide, and thrust him in; Plunging he falls, and rising lifts his head, Then flashing turns, and sinks among the dead.
Wild, sparkling rage, inflames the father's eyes ; He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries, • Detested wretch !-But scarce his speech began, When the strange partner seem'd no longer man : His youthful face grew more serenely sweet; His robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his feet;
Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair ;
Though loud at first the pilgrim's passion grew,
Then know the truth of government divine,
"The Maker justly claims that world he made, In this the right of Providence is laid ; Its sacred majesty through all depends On using second means to work his ends : "Tis thus, withdrawn in state from human eye, The Power exerts his attributes on high, Your actions uses, nor controls your will, And bids the doubting sons of men be still. 'What strange events can strike with more sur
prise, Than those which lately struck thy wondering eyes? Yet, taught by these, confess th’ Almighty just, And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust
"The great, vain man, who far'd on costly food, Whose life was too luxurious to be good; Who made his ivory stands with goblets shine, And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine, Has, with the cup, the graceless custom lost, And still he welcomes, but with less of cost.
The mean, suspicious wretch, whose bolted door Ne'er moy'd in duty to the wandering poor ; With him I left the cup, to teach his mind That Heaven can bless, if mortals will be kind. Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl, And feels compassion touch his grateful soul. Thus artists melt the sullen ore of lead, With heaping coals of fire upon its head; In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow, And loose from dross, the silver runs below.
Long had our pious friend in virtue trod,
But now had all his fortune felt a wrack,
“Thus Heaven instructs thy mind; this trial o'er, Depart in peace, resign, and sin no more.'
On sounding pinions here the youth withdrew, The sage stood wondering as the seraph flew.
Thus look'd Elisha, when, to mount on high, ·
The bending hermit here a prayer begun.
END OF VOL. I.