And much he wonder'd, pondering in his mind, The social wants connecting human kind;

A friend the trust of friendship should betray, And, having injur'd, arm his hand to slay.

As forward on his destin'd way he fares, The widening vale a brighter aspect wears. Now many a shelter'd cottage meets his eyes, And gentle slopes, with waving harvests, rise. The cheerful villagers, their labour done, With sport and song pursue the setting sun. And many a youth, and many a rosy maid, While twilight reigns, yet lingers in the glade. Now Paladour a stately mansion sees, Full richly dight, and girt with tufted trees.

The spacious hall a thousand tapers light,

And, darting far their beams, dispel the night;

While sweetest music floating in the air

Bespeaks no rude assembly feasting there.

The soothing sound the youthful warrior chears;

Already pass'd he deems the vale of tears:

And, scarce arriv'd before the lofty gate,
With ready zeal th' officious menials wait:
While one proclaims a noble warrior near,
This holds his bridle, that receives his spear.
The seneschal before him lowly bends,

And o'er the court with seemly state attends.
Their sports at once the fair assembly leave,
And vie who with best welcome shall receive.

Each dame was lovely, courteous ev'ry knight,

While those of knightly deeds rejoice to hear,

These whisper tales of love in beauty's ear.

At length a stripling shakes aloft the dice,

And Who will dare to stand the throw?' he cries.

At that most potent, that enchanting sound, 1

The throng with eager haste comes crowding round: T

The syren pours her tuneful throat in vain;
The bard, unnotic'd, sounds th' heroic strain;

And yielding beauty blushing longs to hear,

But no seducing whisper meets her ear.
The knight, whom no desires of gain infest,
Perplex'd with doubtful thought, retires to rest,
And now the skies with day resplendent glow:
He rises, but alas! to scenes of woe.

The stripling lies before him cold in death,
By his own frantic hand depriv'd of breath.
A mother here, with grief and anguish wild,
Strains to her throbbing breast her beggar'd child.
Meanwhile, all unconcern'd, the thoughtless crew

Prepare their wonted revels to renew.

Them Paladour beholds with scorn and hate,

And mounts his steed, and flies th' accursed gate.

Nor far had ridden ere a knight and dame,

Rich in attire, tow'rd that fair castle came;

And passing blithe they seem'd, and laugh'd aloud :

Their snorting palfreys pranc'd, as of their burthen proud.

The courteous Paladour salutes them fair,

Scarce bending, on they ride, with scornful air.

A little farther Paladour descries,

Where, near the way, a wretched female lies.

Prone in the dust she lies, like one forlorn,
Her hair dishevell'd, and her garments torn.
Pitying he raises, and recalls her breath;

But on her forehead hangs the damp of death:
Sunk is her cheek, her faded lips are pale,
And o'er her haggard eyes'thick shades prevail.
Yet seem'd she lovely in that piteous plight :
A savage heart had melted at the sight.

So droops a tender flower, which vernal rain
Bedews, and gentle zephyrs sooth in vain :
The passing share a secret wound has made:
Fast ebbs its life, and all its beauties fade.

Not distant stood a mansion, large and fair,
Where all bespoke the master Fortune's care:
Thither the knight the fainting damsel bore:

The churl, with threat'ning voice, forbade the door.

And thus, in broken accents, feebly said :

'Cease, gen'rous youth, ah cease this fruitless pain,

"My heart is grateful, but all aid is vain.

A stranger's pity sooths my parting hour,

While he for whom a father's curse I bore,

• Unmov'd beheld the bitter tears I shed,

And left me, friendless, houseless, wanting bread.

Even now, as faint beside the public way,

Exhausted, famish'd, agoniz'd I lay,

With the proud dame, from whom my sorrows flow,

He pass'd, he knew, and rudely mock'd my woe.

'I die. My breaking heart can bear no more:

'A moment yet, and all my pains are o'er.
'Not e'en this bitter pang can heal my fame :

• Oh might th' oblivious grave conceal my shame!'
She spoke. She died. And Paladour, who saw
Crimes following crimes, perverting nature's law,