Such were the pleasing triumphs of the sky,
  For James his late nocturnal victory;
  The pledge of his Almighty Patron’s love,
  The fireworks which his angels made above. 
  I saw myself the lambent easy light
  Gild the brown horror, and dispel the night: 
  The messenger with speed the tidings bore; 660
  News, which three labouring nations did restore;
  But Heaven’s own Nuntius was arrived before.

    By this, the Hind had reach’d her lonely cell,
  And vapours rose, and dews unwholesome fell. 
  When she, by frequent observation wise,
  As one who long on heaven had fix’d her eyes,
  Discern’d a change of weather in the skies;
  The western borders were with crimson spread,
  The moon descending look’d all flaming red;
  She thought good manners bound her to invite 670
  The stranger dame to be her guest that night. 
  ’Tis true, coarse diet, and a short repast,
  (She said) were weak inducements to the taste
  Of one so nicely bred, and so unused to fast: 
  But what plain fare her cottage could afford,
  A hearty welcome at a homely board,
  Was freely hers; and, to supply the rest,
  An honest meaning, and an open breast: 
  Last, with content of mind, the poor man’s wealth,
  A grace-cup to their common patron’s health. 680
  This she desired her to accept, and stay
  For fear she might be wilder’d in her way,
  Because she wanted an unerring guide;
  And then the dew-drops on her silken hide
  Her tender constitution did declare,
  Too lady-like a long fatigue to bear,
  And rough inclemencies of raw nocturnal air. 
  But most she fear’d that, travelling so late,
  Some evil-minded beasts might lie in wait,
  And, without witness, wreak their hidden hate. 690

   The Panther, though she lent a listening ear,
  Had more of lion in her than to fear: 
  Yet, wisely weighing, since she had to deal
  With many foes, their numbers might prevail,
  Return’d her all the thanks she could afford,
  And took her friendly hostess at her word: 
  Who, entering first her lowly roof, a shed
  With hoary moss, and winding ivy spread,
  Honest enough to hide an humble hermit’s head,
  Thus graciously bespoke her welcome guest:  700
  So might these walls, with your fair presence blest,
  Become your dwelling-place of everlasting rest;
  Not for a night, or quick revolving year;
  Welcome an owner, not a sojourner. 
  This peaceful seat my poverty secures;
  War seldom enters but where wealth allures: 
  Nor yet despise it; for this poor abode
  Has oft received, and yet receives a God;
  A God victorious of the Stygian race
  Here laid his sacred limbs, and sanctified the place, 710
  This mean retreat did mighty Pan contain: 
  Be emulous of him, and pomp disdain,
  And dare not to debase your soul to gain.