Thomas Parnell

“ 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? ”

“ And bids the doubting sons of men be still.
⁠What strange events can strike with more surprize,
Than those which lately struck thy wondring eyes?
Yet, taught by these, confess th' Almighty just,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
⁠The great, vain man, who far'd on costly food,
Whose life was too luxurious to be good;
Who made his iv'ry stands with goblets shine,
And forc'd his guests to morning-draughts of wine ”

“ FAR in a wild, unknown to public view
⁠From youth to age a rev'rend Hermit grew;
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell
His food the fruits, his drink the chrystal well:
Remote from man, with God he pass’d his days,
Pray'r all his bus’ness, all his pleasure praise
⁠A life so sacred, such serene sepose,
Seem'd heav'n itsels, 'till one suggestion rose
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey
This sprung some doubt of providence's sway
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast
And all the tenure of his soul is lost. ”