A Stranger, and thou took’st me in. Great Heart!
It fits not well my temper to high-trape
My woes before a listless world, or drape
With melancholy habit each grim part
Life bad me to, for with a sovereign art
She did it so, my stubborn thought to shape.
Yet, tho’ I lightly scorn wide mouths agape,
’Twere worthy of high record, in this mart
Of barter and exchange, how I to thee
Came, all my prospect waste and spilt,
A Stranger, and with what unquestioning air
Thou took me in, and sought to succour me:
Forget it thou may’st; likeliest is thou wilt;
But not so I who found a heart so rare.