The wasted plain, in want and wretchedness.
Feebly I followed; one who knew and lov'd
My fallen father, fav'd his helpless child.
Long time he journeyed on in hopes to gain
Beyond old Arden, in his sister's home165
A safe asylum; and we now had reach'd
The wood, with many a painful day's hard toil,
When by the rankling wound that prey'd upon him
Worn out, he fell.
"My agonizing shrieks
Pierced thro' the forest, and a holy man170
Drew near: he bore him to his rock-roof'd cell,
And many a precious balm, and virtuous herb
The aged leech applied; his earthly cares
Were fruitless, for worn nature sunk to rest.
Yet of a Judge, all just, all merciful,175
A God of Love, inspir'd the hermit told,
Tum populus cunctus de portis Gallicus exit
Mœstus, inarmatus, vacuus, miser æger, inopsque;
Utque novas sedes quærat migrare coactus:
Oppidulo belli potiuntur jure Britanni!"
