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With which Spring often decks a mouldering Tree!
Yet so it pleased a fond, a vain Old Man,
And a most frivolous People. Him I mean
Who framed, to ridicule confiding Faith,
This sorry Legend; which by chance we found
Piled in a nook, through malice, as might seem,
Among more innocent rubbish."—Speaking thus,
With a brief notice when, and how, and where,
We had espied the Book, he drew it forth;
And courteously, as if the act removed,
At once, all traces from the good Man's heart
Of unbenign aversion or contempt
Restored it to its owner. "Gentle Friend,"
Herewith he grasped the Solitary's hand,
"You have known better Lights and Guides than these—
Ah! let not aught amiss within dispose
A noble Mind to practise on herself,
And tempt Opinion to support the wrongs
Of Passion: whatsoe'er is felt or feared,
From higher judgment-seats make no appeal
To lower: can you question that the Soul
Inherits an allegiance, not by choice
