which happened when he was very young, she had taken him entirely under her protection; his gratitude and fidelity amply repaid her kindness, and she had considered him as she did Agatha, infinitely above the rest of the servants.
With true French gaiety after he had finished his repast, he amused himself with singing the following
Song
Come, sweet Content, thou ever smiling maid,
Come, sit with me beneath this old tree's shade;
Or ramble with me round yon green-clad hill,
Adown whose side soft steals the silvery rill.
If thou'rt an inmate of my humble home,
I would not change it for a gilded dome;
If blessed with thee, my table shall be crown'd
With sweets, in riot's banquet never found;
Careless with thee I'd roam at early day,
And join the warblers on the waving spray;
Or gaily tend my fleecy bleating fold,
And kindly guard them from the wint'ry cold.
