He enter'd, folemn, flow, and sad, The destin'd hermitage, A little and a lonely hut, To cover hapless age. : He clasp'd his daughter in his arms, And kiss'd a falling tear; " I have my all, ye gracious Powers! " I have my daughter here!" The faggot blazed, the window glanced, The heart of age arose. " I would not be that guilty man, "With all his golden store; " Nor change my lot with any wretch, "That counts his thousands o'er. "Now 1 " Now here at last we are at home, "We can no lower fall; "Low in the cottage, peace can dwell, "As in the lordly hall. "The wants of Nature are but few; "Her banquet foon is spread : "The Tenant of the Vale of Tears "The food that grows in every field " Will life and health prolong; " And water from the spring suffice "To quench the thirsty tongue. "But all the Indies, with their wealth, " And earth, and air, and feas, " Will never quench the fickly thirst " And craving of Disease. F2 " My 1 66 My humble garden to my hand " Like Nature's fimple children, here, "With Nature's self we'll live, "And, of the little that is left, "Have something still to give. "The fad vicissitudes of life 66 Long have I learn'd to bear; "But, oh! my Daughter, thou art new "To forrow and to care! " How shall that fine and flowery form, "That scarcely faced the Summer's gale, " Endure the wintery wind? "Ah! " Ah! how wilt thou sustain a sky "Whate'er thy justice dooms, O God! " I take with temper mild; "But, oh! repay it thousand-fold " In blessings on my Child!" "Weep not for me, thou Father fond!" The Virgin foft did fay; "Could I contribute to thy peace, "The Parent, who provides for all, " For us will now provide; " These hands have learn'd the gayer arts " Of elegance and pride: "What once amused a vacant hour, "Shall now the day engage! " And Vanity shall spread the board " Of Poverty and Age. " At eventide, how blithe we'll meet, " And, while the faggots blaze, "Recount the trifles of the time, " And dream of better days! "I'll read the tragic tales of old, "To foothe a Father's woes; "I'll lay the pillow for thy head, " And fing thee to repose." The Father wept. "Thy wond'rous hand, 66 Almighty, I adore! " I had not known how blest I was, " Had I not been so poor! " Now |