His rising cares the hermit 'spied, With answering cares oppress'd; 'And whence, unhappy youth,' he cried, 'The sorrows of thy breast? 'From better habitation spurn'd, 'Alas! the joys that fortune brings, And those that prize the paltry things, 'And what is friendship but a name, 'And love is still an emptier sound, 'For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, And spurn the sex,' he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush Surpris'd, he sees new beauties rise, The bashful look, the rising breast, The lovely stranger stands confess'd And, Ah! forgive a stranger rude, x Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way. My father liv'd beside the Tyne, And all his wealth was mark'd for mine, To win me from his tender arms Each hour the mercenary crowd With richest presents strove : Among the rest young Edwin bow'd, But never talk'd of love. In humble simplest habit clad, 'The blossom opening to the day, The dews of heaven refin'd, Could nought of purity display, To emulate his mind. 'The dew, the blossom on the tree, 'For still I tried each fickle art, And while his passion touch'd my heart, 'Till quite dejected with my scorn, And sought a solitude forlorn, 'But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay ; I'll seek the solitude he sought, And there forlorn, despairing, hid, 'Forbid it, Heaven!" the hermit cried, And clasp'd her to his breast: The wondering fair one turn'd to chide, 'Twas Edwin's self that press'd. t "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see, Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, 'Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And ev'ry care resign.' 'And shall we never, never part, My life my all that's mine?' 'No, never from this hour to part; The sigh that rends thy constant heart, Goldsmith. EDWIN AND EMMA. FAR in the windings of a vale, There beauteous Emma flourish'd fair The softest blush that nature spreads Such orient colour smiles through Heav'n Nor let the pride of great ones scorn This charmer of the plains; That sun which bids their diamond blaze, To deck our lily deigns. Long had she fir'd each youth with love, And though by all a wonder own'd, Till Edwin came, the pride of swains, And from whose eyes serenely mild, A mutual flame was quickly caught, What happy hours of heartfelt bliss His sister, who like Envy form'd, To work them harm, with wicked skill The father too, a sordid man, From whence his riches grew. |