The Pilgrim'S Progress[385]

From his obscure abode, On many a tiresome road The pilgrim, musing, took his way: Through dark and dismal groves Where the sad turtle loves To pass the night, and kill the day.

In an obscure retreat, I saw the pilgrim greet, A barren soil and dreary town;-- Thy streets be-gloomed with trees With pain the traveller sees, Sylvania, barren of renown.--

What can console him there?-- Not even a house of prayer With glittering spire is seen to rise-- No nymphs in gaudy trim Will there be seen by him;-- No music, sermons, balls, or pigeon pies.

Dull, melancholy streams, Dutch politics and schemes, Owls screeching in the empty street-- Wolves howling at the doors-- Bears breaking into stores; These make the picture of the town--complete.

In the Daily Advertiser of Dec. 30, 1789, this bore the title, "A View of Columbia," and the opening line was "From Charleston's gay abode." In the 1795 edition the title was changed to "Lysander's Retreat." Text from the edition of 1809.