Haply some hoary-headed Swain may say, «Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn · Brushing with hasty steps the dews away • To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. • There at the foot of yonder nodding beech • His listless length at noontide would he stretch, . And pore upon the brook that babbles by. • Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, • Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross’d in hopeless love. One One morn I miss’d him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath and near his fav’rite tree; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, "Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he ; The next with dirges due in fad array *Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him born. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, • Gray'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn. Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere, Heav'n did a recompence as largely send : - He gave to Mis’ry all be had, a tear, He gain'd from Heav’n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (* There they alike in trembling hope repose,) The bofom of his Father and his God. -paventosa speme. Petrarch. Son. 114. 5 Τ Η Ε |