Miscellaneous Poems: 81

Two Brothers Hermits, Saints by Trade,

Taking their Tour in Masquerade,

Disguis’d in tatter’d Habits wentTo a small Village down in Kent ;

Where, in the Strollers canting Strain,

They begg’d from Door to Door in vaiq,

Try’d ev’ry Tone might Pity win,

But not a Soul would let ’em in.

Our wand'ring Saints in woful State,

Treated at this ungodly Kate,

Having through all the Village past,

To a small Cottage came at last,

Where dwelt a good old honest Yoeman,

Call’d in the Neighbourhood, Philemon.

Who kindly did the Saints inviteIn his poor Hut to pass that Night;

And then the hospitable SireBid Goody Baucis mend the Fire ;

While he from out the Chimney tookA Flitch of Bacon off the Hook,

And freely from the fattest SideCut out large Slices to be fry’d :

Then stept aside to fetch ’em Drink,

Fill’d a large Jug up to the Brink,

And saw it fairly twice go round ;

Yet (what is wonderful) they sound'Twas still repleniih’d to the Top,

As if they ne’er had touch’d a Drop,she good old Couple was amaz’d,

And often on each other gaz’d;

For both were frighted to the Heart,

And just began to cry-What art!

Then softly tum’d aside to view -Whether the Lights were burning blue.

The gentle Pilgrims soon aware on t,

Told ’em their Calling and their Errant*

Good Folks, you need not be afn.id,

Y/s are but Saints, the Hermit- said :

H :

No