Pains or pretences, kept him from his seat.
This to his credit in the town was told,
And ladies said, “’Tis pity he is old;
Yet, for his years, the Stranger moves like one
Who, of his race, has no small part to run.” 40
No envy he by ostentation raised,
And all his hospitable table praised.
His quiet life censorious talk suppress’d,
And numbers hail’d him as their welcome guest.
’Twas thought a man so mild, and bounteous too,