His Cup was vanifh'd; for, in fecret Guise, The younger Guest purloin'd the glitt'ring Prize.

As one, who fpies a Serpent in his Way, Glift'ning and bafking in the Summer Ray, Disorder'd, ftops to fhun the Danger near, Then walks with Faintness on, and looks with Fear:

So feem'd the Sire; when, far upon the Road,
The shining Spoil his wily Partner show'd.
He stopp'd with Silence, walk'd with trembling
Heart,

And much he wish'd, but durft not ask to part:
Murm'ring, he lifts his Eyes, and thinks it

hard,

That gen'rous Actions meet a bafe Reward. While thus they país, the Sun his Glory fhrouds,

The changing Skies hang out their fable Clouds

;

A Sound in Air prefag'd approaching Rain, And Beafts to Covert fcud across the Plain. Warn'd by the Signs, the wand'ring Pair retreat,

To feek for Shelter at a neighb'ring Seat.
'Twas built with Turrets, on a rifing Ground,
And ftrong, and large, and unimprov'd a-
round;

Its Owner's Temper, tim'rous and fevere,
Unkind and griping, caus'd a Defert there.

As

As near the Mifer's heavy Doors they drew, Fierce rifing Gufts with fudden Fury blew ; The nimble Light'ning mix'd with Show'rs began,

And o'er their Heads loud-rolling Thunder ran. Here long they knock, but knock or call in

vain,

Driv'n by the Wind, and batter'd by the Rain. At length fome Pity warm'd the Mafter's Breaft, ('Twas then his Threshold firft receiv'd a Guest)

Slow creaking turns the Door with jealous Care,

And half he welcomes in the fhiv'ring Pair; One frugal Faggot lights the naked Walls, And Nature's Fervour thro' their Limbs recalls: Bread of the coarseft Sort, with eager Wine, (Each hardly granted) ferv'd them both to dine;

And when the Tempeft first appear'd to cease,
A ready Warning bid them part in Peace.
With ftill Remark the pond'ring Hermit
view'd,

In one fo rich, a Life fo poor and rude;
And why should fuch (within himself he cry'd)
Lock the loft Wealth a Thousand want be-

fide?

But what new Marks of Wonder foon took

Place

In ev'ry fettling Feature of his Face!

When

When from his Veft the young Companion

bore

That Cup, the gen'rous Landlord own'd before;

And paid profufely, with the precious Bowl, The ftinted Kindnefs of this churlish Soul!

But now the Clouds in airy Tumults fly, The Sun emerging opes an azure Sky; A fresher Green the smelling Leaves display, And, glitt'ring as they tremble, chear the Day: The Weather courts them from the poor Re

treat,

And the glad Mafter bolts the wary Gate. While hence they walk, the Pilgrim's Bofom wrought

With all the Travel of uncertain Thought; His Partner's Acts without their Caufe appear, 'Twas there a Vice, and feem'd a Madness here:

Detesting that, and pitying this, he goes, Loft and confounded with the various Shows. Now Night's dim Shades again involve the

Sky;

Again the Wand'rers want a Place to lie,
Again they search, and find a Lodging nigh.
The Soil improv'd around, the Manfion 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 blefs the Manfion, and the Mafter greet: Their Greeting fair, beftow'd with modeft Guife,

The courteous Mafter 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, for Him accept it

here,

A frank and sober, more than coftly Cheer. He spoke, and bid the welcome Table spread, Then talk'd of Virtue till the Time of Bed, When the grave Houfhold round his Hall re

pair,

Warn'd by a Bell, and close the Hours with Pray'r.

At length the World, renew'd by calm Re

pofe,

Was ftrong for Toil, the dappled Morn arose; Before the Pilgrims part, the Younger crept Near the clos'd Cradle where an Infant flept, And writh'd his Neck; the Landlord's little Pride,

Oftrange Return! grew black, and gasp'd, and dy'd.

Horror of Horrors! what! his only Son!

How look'd our Hermit when the Fact was

done?

Not

Not Hell, tho' Hell's black Jaws in funder

part,

And breathe blue Fire, cou'd more affault his

Heart.

Confus'd, and ftruck with Silence at the

Deed,

He flies, but trembling fails to fly with Speed. His Steps the Youth purfues; the Country lay Perplex'd with Roads, a Servant show'd the Way:

A River cross'd the Path; the Paffage o'er Was nice to find, the Servant trod before: Long Arms of Oaks an open Bridge supply'd, And deep the Waves beneath the Bending glide. The Youth, who feem'd to watch a Time to fin,

Approach'd the careless Guide, and thruft him.

in:

Plunging he falls, and rifing, lifts his Head, Then flashing turns, and finks among the Dead.

Wild, fparkling Rage inflames the Father's

Eyes,

He bursts the Bands of Fear, and madly cries, Detefted Wretch ! But fcarce his Speech began,

Whentheftrange Partner feem'd no longer Man. His youthful Face grew more ferenely sweet; His Robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his

Feet: