"""Stay, traveller, stay thy weary steed, The sultry hour of noon is near, Of rest thy way-worn limbs have need, Stay, then, and, taste its sweetness here. The mountain path which thou hast sped Is steep, and difficult to tread, And many a farther step 'twill cost, Ere thou wilt find another host; But if thou scorn'st not humble fare, Such as the pilgrim loves to share,- Not luxury's enfeebling spoil, But bread secured by patient toil- Then lend thine ear to my request, And be the old man's welcome guest. Thou seest yon aged willow tree, In all its summer pomp arrayed, 'Tis near, wend thither, then, with me, My cot is built beneath its shade; And from its roots clear waters burst""