And many a furrow in my grief-worn cheek Has been the channel to a flood of tears. III. Yon house, erected on the rifing ground, With tempting afpect, drew me from my toad; For Plenty there a refidence has found, And Grandeur a magnificent abode. IV. Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor! Here, as I crav❜d a morfel of their bread, A pamper❜d menial drove me from the door, To feek a fhelter in an humbler shed. V. Oh! take me to your hofpitable dome ; Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold! Short is my paffage to the friendly tomb, For I am poor, and miferably old. Should Plurimus ore meo fulcus, quo flumina manent, Flumina, quæ totiès fudit acerba dolor. III. Quò domus ista jugis acclivibus alta videtur, Has fibi fecuras delegit Copia fedes, Has intra fulget Pompa superba fores. IV. Ah! fors infelix inopi, feffoque fenectâ ! Dum mifer hic menfæ fragmina parva rogo, Inflatus foribus pinguedine fervus abegit; I procùl hinc, dixit, tecta minora pete.' V. Ne mihi perfugium, tua tecta benigna recuses, Quem premit hæc Boreæ vis, penetratque gelu; Jam jamque in tumulo mea membra fenilia ponam, Et mors conficiet tædia, morfque preces. VI. Should I reveal the fources of my grief, If foft humanity e'er touch'd your breast, Your hands would not with-hold the kind relief, A little farm was my paternal lot; Then, like the lark, I fprightly hail'd the morn; But ah! oppreffion forc'd me from my cot, My cattle dy'd, and blighted was my corn; IX. My daughter, once the comfort of my age, Lur'd by a villain from her native home, Is VI. Si, bone, collibuit tantos audire labores, Humanæ fortis tam miferanda mala, Gutta memor noftrî faltèm stillabit ab ore, Succurrefque malis, fi tua corda movent. VII. Dî ftatuunt adverfa, et funt patienda; mihique Arbitrio fortem Dî ftatuêre fuo; Atque tibi forfàn nectit crudelia fatum, Te, moriture, manet non fugienda dies. VIII. Tempus erat, lætus quo patria rura colebam, Gratabar reducem tunc, ut alauda, diem; Eheu! fed cafulam mihi vis invidit iniqua, Et periit morbo grex meus, igne feges. IX. Reftabat fenii fpes ultima, chara puella, Quam mihi fubduxit perfidus arte malâ ; Perfidus Is caft, abandon'd, on the world's wide ftage, And doom'd in scanty poverty to roam : X. My tender wife, sweet soother of my care! Struck with fad anguish at the ftern decree, Fell, ling'ring, fell a victim to despair, And left the world to wretchedness and me. XI. Pity the forrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span, Oh! give relief, and heav'n will bless your ftore. Written |