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(QUEEN ANN.) THOMAS PARNELL. 1679–1717. Page The Hermit

217 A Night-Piece on Death

• 294 A Hymn to Contentment

226 A Fairy Tale

228 Health.--An Eclogue

234 The Flies---An Eclogue

236 An Allegory on Man

238 JOHN PHILLIPS. 1676–1708. The Splendid Shilling

241 JOSEPH ADDISON. 1672–1719. A Letter from Italy

245 To Sir Godfrey Kneller

249 A Song for St. Cecilia's Day

• 252 An Hymn

254 NICHOLAS ROWE. 1673---1718. Colin's Complaint.--A Song

255 DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 1649---1721. An Essay on Poetry

257 MATTHEW PRIOR. 1664--1721. Alma

266 Henry and Emma

• 309 The Lady's Looking-Glass

329 Chloe Hunting

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• 330 The Garland The Despairing Shepherd

332 Her right Name

. 333 Ode to Howard



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in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend Hermit grew, The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well, Remote from man, with God he pass'd his days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.

A life so sacred, such serene repose, Seem'd Heaven itself, till one suggestion roseThat vice should triumph, virtue vice obey; This spring some doubt of Providence's sway: His hopes no more a certain prospect boast, And all the tenor of his soul is lost. So when a smooth expanse receives imprest Calm nature's image on its watery breast, Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow, And skies beneath with answering colours glow; But if a stone the gentle sea divide, Swift rushing circles curl on every side, And glimmering fragments of a broken sun: Banks, trees, and skies, in thick disorder run.

To clear this doubt, to know the world by sight, To find if books, or swains report it right Vol. I.


(For yet by swains alone the world he knew,
Whose feet came wandering o'er the nightly dew),
He quits his cell: the pilgrim-staff he bore,
And fix'd the scallop in his hat before,
Then with the sun a rising journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.

The morn was wasted in the pathless grass,
And long and lonesome was the wild to pass :
But when the southern sun had warm'd the day,
A youth came posting o'er a crossing way;
His raiment decent, his complexion fair,
And soft in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair ;
Then near approaching, ‘Father, hail!' he cried ;
And Hail, my son!' the reverend sire replied:
Words follow'd words, from question answer flow'd,
And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road;
Till each with other pleas'd, and loth to part,
While in their age they differ, join in heart.
Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound,
Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.

Now sunk the sun ; the closing hour of day Came onward, mantled o'er with sober grey; Nature in silence bid the world repose : When near the road a stately palace rose : There, by the moon, thro' ranks of trees they pass, Whose verdure crown'd their sloping sides of grass. It chanc'd the noble master of the dome Still made his house the wandering stranger's home; Yet still the kindness, from a thirst of praise, Prov'd the vain flourish of expensive ease. The pair arrive: the liveried servants wait; Their lord receives them at the pompous gate. The table groans with costly piles of food, And all is more than hospitably good. Then, led to rest, the day's long toil they drown, Deep sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps of down.

At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day Along the wide canals the zephyrs play; Fresh o'er the gay parterres the breezes creep, And shake the neighbouring wood to banish sleep.

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