“He now bethought him, he would roam no more
But live at home and labour as before.”
Here clothed and fed, no sooner he began
To round and redden, than away he ran;
His wife was dead, their children past his aid,
So, unmolested, from his home he stray’d:
Six years elapsed, when, worn with want and pain.
Came Robin, wrapt in all his rags again:
We chide, we pity; - placed among our poor,
He fed again, and was a man once more.