Page:Poems - Sayers (1792).djvu/65

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[ 57 ]

CARRIL, turning to the Chorus.

Have pity on me, take me tAged Bards
Have pity on me, take me to your halls,[1]
Weary and faint I ask some slight relief,
Shut not your doors against a helpless man.—

CHORUS.

Accurst be he who 'gainst the suppliant stranger
Shall bolt his massy iron gates, unmindful
Of misery's voice.—These halls have ever offer'd
Food and repose to way-worn travellers.

CARRIL.

I thank ye venerable men—but say,
What warlike chieftain calls this castle his?

  1. ↑ Your hospitable halls.] An unbounded hospitality was one of the most prominent and amiable features in the character of our Northern ancestors.
    See Tacitus de Mor. German. 21.

CHORUS.

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