As smokes upon the silver plate
Of the luxurious pamper'd great.

So to this cot of homely thatch,

In the same plight the Genius came :
Down comes the dame, lifts up the latch;
What want you Sir?—God save you, dame.
And so he told the piteous tale,

Which you have heard him tell before;
Your patience and my own would fail
Were I tell it o'er and o'er.

Suffice it, that my goody's care
Brought forth her best, tho' simple fare,
And from the corner-cupboard's hoard,
Her stranger guest the more to please,
Bespread her hospitable board

With what she had-'twas bread and cheese.

"Tis honest tho' but homely cheer;
Much good may't do ye, eat your fill,
Would I cou'd treat you with strong beer,
But for the action take the will,

You see my cot is clean, tho' small,
Pray Heav'n encrease my slender stock!
You're welcome, friend, you see my all;
And for your bed, Sir, there's a flock.

No matter what was after said,

He eat and drank and went to bed.

And now the cock his mattins sung, (Howe'er such singing's light esteem'd, 'Tis precious in the Muses' tongue

When sung rhymes better than he scream'd) The dame and pedlar both arose,

At early dawn of rising day,

She for her work of folding cloaths,

And He to travel on his way;

But much he thought himself to blame,

If, as in duty surely bound,

He did not thank the careful dame
For the reception he had found.
Hostess, quoth He, before I go,
I thank you for your hearty Fare;
Would it were in my pow'r to pay
My gratitude a better way;
But money now runs very low,
And I have not a doit to spare ;

But if you'll take this piece of Stuff

- No, quoth the dame, I'm poor as you,

Your kindest wishes are enough,

You're welcome, friend, farewell-Adieu.

But first reply'd the wand'ring guest,
For bed and board and homely dish,
May all things turn out for the best,
So take my blessing and my wish.
May what you first begin to do,
Create such profit and delight,
That you may do it all day through,
Nor finish till the depth of night.

Thank you, she said, and shut the door, Turn'd to her work, and thought no more. And now the napkin which was spread To treat her guest with good brown bread, She folded up with nicest care; When lo! another napkin there! And every folding did beget

Another and another yet.

She folds a shift-by strange encrease,
The remnant swells into a piece.
Her Caps, her Laces, all the same,

Till such a quantity of Linen,
From such a very small beginning,

Flow'd in at once upon the dame,
Who wonder'd how the deuce it came,
'That with the drap'ry she had got
Within her little shabby cot,

She might for all the town provide,

And break both York-street and Cheapside.

It happen'd that th' Attorney's wife,
Who, to be sure, took much upon her,
As being one in higher Life,

Who did the Parish mighty honour,
Sent for the dame, who, poor and willing,
Would take a job of charing work,
And sweat and toil like any Turk,
To earn a sixpence or a shilling.

She could not come, not she indeed! She thank'd her much, but had no need.

Good news will fly as well as bad,
So out this wond'rous story came,
About the Pedlar and the Dame,
Which made th' Attorney's wife so mad,
That she resolv'd at any rate,

Spite of her pride and Lady airs,
To get the Pedlar tête-à-tête,
And make up all the past affairs,
And tho' she wish'd him at the devil,
When he came there the night before,
Determin'd to be moustrous civil,
And drop her curtsie at the door..

Now all was racket, noise and pother, Nell running one way, John another, And Tom was on the coach-horse sent, To learn which way the Pedlar went. Thomas return'd;-the Pedlar brought, -What could my dainty Madam say, For not behaving as she ought, And driving honest folks away ?

Upon my word, it shocks me much,
-But there's such thieving here of late-
Not that I dream'd that you were such,
When you came knocking at my gate.
I must confess myself to blame,
And I'm afraid you lately met

Sad treatment with that homely dame,
Who lives on what her hands can get.
Walk in with me at least to-night,
And let us set all matters right.
I know my duty, and indeed

Would help a friend in time of need.
Take such refreshment as you find,
I'm sure I mean it for the best,
And give it with a willing mind
To such a grave and sober guest.