(6)
It's owner's temper, tim'rous and ſevere,
Unkind and gripping, caus'd a deſart there
As near the Miſer's heavy doors they drew
Fierce riſing guſts with ſudden fury blew;
The nimble light'ning mixt with ſhow'rs began,
And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran.
Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain,
Driv'n by the wind, and batter'd by the rain
At length ſome pity warm'd the maſter's breaſt,
('Twas then his threſhold firſt receiv'd a gueſt)
Slow creaking turns the door with jealous care,
And half he welcomes in the ſhiv'ring pair:
One frugal faggot lights the naked walls,
And nature's fervour thro' their limbs recalls,
Bread of the coarſeſt ſort, with eager wine,
(Each hardly granted) ſerv'd them both to dine,
And when the tempeſt firſt appear'd to ceaſe
A ready warning bid them part in peace.
With ſtill remark the pond'ring hermit view'd,
In one ſo rich, a life ſo poor and rude;
And why ſhould ſuch (within himſelf he cry'd)
Lock the loſt wealth, a thouſand want beſide?
