"Alas!" the good man answer'd, 66 can I send "A friendless woman? Can I find a friend? "No; I must with her, in her need, repair "To that new place; the poor lie every where ;— · "Some priest will pay me for my pious pains :"He said, he came, and here he yet remains. Behold his dwelling; this poor hut he hires, Where he from view, though not from want, retires; Partake his sufferings, and dismiss his duns; Then from his care, his love, his grief he steals, Some tradesman's bill his wandering eyes engage, Some scrawl for payment thrust 'twixt page and page; Some bold, loud rapping at his humble door, An angry dealer, vulgar, rich, and proud, 66 My mill is stopp'd; what, Miss! I cannot grind; That are more harrowing than the want of bread; And say that want and insolence shall cease? "But why not publish ?"-those who know too well, Dealers in Greek, are fearful 'twill not sell; Then he himself is timid, troubled, slow, Nor likes his labours nor his griefs to show; The hope of fame may in his heart have place, That might his learning and himself display ; "Yes," he replied, "I'm happy, I confess, "To aid the letter'd poor, and soothe such ills as mine: "We who more keenly feel the world's contempt, "And from its miseries are the least exempt; "Now hope shall whisper to the wounded breast, “ And grief, in soothing expectation, rest. "Yes, I am taught that men who think, who feel, “Unite the pains of thoughtful men to heal; "Not with disdainful pride, whose bounties make "The needy curse the benefits they take; "Not with the idle vanity that knows 66 Only a selfish joy when it bestows; "Not with o'erbearing wealth, that, in disdain, "Hurls the superfluous bliss at groaning pain; "But these are men who yield such bless'd relief, "And grateful feelings in the bosom wake, 66 Long may these founts of charity remain, “And never shrink, but to be fill'd again; "His time, his health, and thankless found mankind: "But there is hope that from these founts may flow "A sideway stream, and equal good bestow; "Good that may reach us, whom the day's distress Keeps from the fame and perils of the press; "Whom study beckons from the ills of life, "And they from study; melancholy strife! "Who then can say, but bounty now so free, "And so diffused, may find its way to me? "Yes! I may see my decent table yet "Cheer'd with the meal that adds not to my debt; "May talk of those to whom so much we owe, "And guess their names whom yet we may not know; "Bless'd we shall say are those who thus can give, "And next who thus upon the bounty live; "Then shall I close with thanks my humble meal, "And feel so well-Oh! God! how I shall feel!" |