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Yet stay fair lady; rest awhile

Beneath this cloyster wall: See through the hawthorn blows the cold wind,

And drizzly rain doth fall.

O stay me not, thou holy friar;

O ftay me not I pray ;
No drizzly rain that falls on me,
Can wash



Yet ftay, fair lady, turn again,

And dry those pearly tears ; For fee beneath this

gown Thy own true-love appears.

of gray

Here forc'd by grief, and hopeless love

These holy weeds I fought: And here amid these lonely walls

To end my days I thought.

But haply for my year of grace

Is not yet pass'd away,
Might I still hope to win thy love,

No longer would I stay.


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Now farewel grief, and welcome joy

Once more unto my heart;
For fince I have found thee, lovely youth,

We never more will part.


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URN, gentle hermit of the dale,

And guide my lonely way,
To where
yon taper

cheers the vale,
With hofpitable ray.

For here forlorn and loft I tread,

With fainting steps and flow;
Where wilds, immeasurably spread,

Seem lengthening as I go.

Forbear, my son, the hermit cries,

To tempt the dangerous gloom;
For yonder phantom only fies

To lure thee to thy doom,


Here to the houseless child of want,

My door is open ftill;
And tho' my portion is but fcant,

I give it with good will.

Then turn to-night, and freely share
Whate'er my

cell bestows;
My ruhy couch, and frugal fare,

My blessing and repose.

No flocks that range the valley free,

To slaughter I condemn :
Tauglit by that power that pities me,

I learn to pity them.

But from the mountain's graffy fide,

A guiltless feast I bring;
A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'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.

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Soft as the dew from heav'n descends,

His gentle accents fell:
The modeft stranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obscure

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

And stranger led aftray.

No stores beneath its humble thatch

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

Receiv'd the harmless pair.

And now when busy crowds retire

To revels or to rest,
The hermit trimm'd his little fire,

And cheer'd his penfive guest :

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Around in sympathetic mirth

Its tricks the kitten tries ;
The cricket chirrups on the hearth;

The crackling faggot Aies.

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 rising cares the hermit 'spy'd,

With answering cares.opprest :
And whence, unhappy youth, he cry'd,

The sorrows of thy breast ?

From better habitations spurn'd,

Reluctant dost thou rove;
Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,

Or unregarded love ?

Alas! the joys that fortune brings,

Are trilling and decay;
And those that prize the paltry things,

More trifling ftill than they.


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