To clear this doubt, to know the world by sight,
  To find if books or swains report it right,
  (For yet by swains alone the world he knew,
  Whose feet came wandering o’er the nightly dew)
  He quits his cell; the pilgrim-staff he bore,
  And fix’d the scallop in his hat before;
  Then with the sun a rising journey went,
  Sedate to think, and watching each event.

   The morn was wasted in the pathless grass,
  And long and lonesome was the wild to pass; 30
  But when the southern sun had warm’d the day,
  A youth came posting o’er a crossing way;
  His raiment decent, his complexion fair,
  And soft in graceful ringlets waved his hair. 
  Then near approaching, ‘Father, hail!’ he cried,
  ‘And hail, my Son!’ the reverend sire replied;
  Words follow’d words, from question answer flow’d,
  And talk of various kind deceived the road. 
  Till each with other pleased, and loth to part,
  While in their age they differ, join in heart:  40
  Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound,
  Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.

   Now sunk the sun; the closing hour of day
  Came onward, mantled o’er with sober gray;
  Nature in silence bid the world repose;
  When near the road a stately palace rose: 
  There by the moon through ranks of trees they pass,
  Whose verdure crown’d their sloping sides of grass. 
  It chanced the noble master of the dome,
  Still made his house the wandering stranger’s home:  50
  Yet still the kindness, from a thirst of praise,
  Proved the vain flourish of expensive ease. 
  The pair arrive:  the liveried servants wait;
  Their lord receives them at the pompous gate;
  The table groans with costly piles of food,
  And all is more than hospitably good;
  Then led to rest, the day’s long toil they drown,
  Deep sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps of down.

   At length ’tis morn, and at the dawn of day,
  Along the wide canals the Zephyrs play; 60
  Fresh o’er the gay parterres the breezes creep,
  And shake the neighbouring wood to banish sleep. 
  Up rise the guests, obedient to the call;
  An early banquet deck’d the splendid hall;
  Rich luscious wine a golden goblet graced,
  Which the kind master forced the guests to taste. 
  Then pleased and thankful, from the porch they go,
  And, but the landlord, none had cause of woe;
  His cup was vanish’d—­for in secret guise
  The younger guest purloin’d the glittering prize. 70

   As one who spies a serpent in his way,
  Glistening and basking in the summer ray,
  Disorder’d stops to shun the danger near,
  Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear: 
  So seem’d the sire, when, far upon the road,
  The shining spoil his wily partner show’d. 
  He stopp’d with silence, walk’d with trembling heart,
  And much he wish’d, but durst not ask to part: 
  Murmuring he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard,
  That generous actions meet a base reward. 80