Mutual Recollections.

And prov'd, that when with Tyranny opprest, Poor Phoebe groan'd with wounds and broken rest, George felt no less: was harassed and forlorn; A rope's-end follow'd him both night and morn. Andin that very storm when Phoebe fled, When the rain drench'd her yet unshelter'd head; That very Storm he on the Ocean brav'd, The Vessel founder'd, and the Boy was say'd! Mysterious Heaven!—and O with what delight— She told the happy issue of her flight: To his charm'd heart a living picture drew; And gave to hospitality its due! The list'ning Host observ'd the gentle Pair; And ponder'd on the means that brought them there: Convinc'd, while unimpeach'd their Virtue stood, Twas Heav'n's high Will that he should do them good.

But now the anxious Dame, impatient grown, Demanded what the Youth had heard, or known,