sting. Everything that comes from his pen has the flavor of his quaint
personality. In spite of his failings--or possibly in part because of
them--this son of Ireland is one of the most popular of English writers.


THE TRAVELLER;

OR, A PROSPECT OF SOCIETY

Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,
Or by the lazy Scheld[1] or wandering Po;
Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor[2]
Against the houseless stranger shuts the door;
Or where Campania's plain[3] forsaken lies, 5
A weary waste expanding to the skies;
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravelled fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother[4] turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. 10

Eternal blessings crown my earliest friend,
And round his dwelling guardian saints attend:
Blest be that spot where cheerful guests retire
To pause from toil, and trim their ev'ning fire:
Blest that abode where want and pain repair, 15
And every stranger finds a ready chair:
Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crowned,
Where all the ruddy family around
Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail,
Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale; 20