« EdellinenJatka »
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,
Reluctant dost thou rove;
Or unregarded love?
Alas! the joys that fortune brings,
Are trifling and decay!
More trifling still than they.
And what is friendship but a name,
A charm that lalls to sleep;
But leaves the wretch to weep?
And love is still an emptier sound,
The modern fair one's jest: On earth unseen, or only found
To warm the turtle's nest.
'For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush,
And spurn the sex,' he said :
His love-loru guest betray'd.
Surpris'd, he sees vew beauties rise,
Swift mantling to the view;
As bright, as transient too.
The bashiful look, the rising breast,
Alternate spread alarms :
A maid in all her charms.
And,' Ah! forgive a stranger rude,
A wretch forlorn,' she cried; * Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude
Where heaven and you reside.
* 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,
A wealthy lord was he; And all his wealth was mark'd for mine,
He had but only me.
* To win me from his tender arms
Unnumber'd suitors came:
And felt or feign’d a flame.
* 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,
No wealth nor power had he; Wisdom and worth were all he had,
But these were all to me.
"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,
With charms inconstant shine ;. Their charms were his, but woe is me,
Their constancy was mine.
For still I tried each fickle art,
Importunate and vain; And while his passion touch'd my heart,
I triumph'd in his pain.
* Till quite dejected with my scorn,
He left me to my pride; And sought a solitude forlorn,
In secret where he died.
*But mine the sorrow,
mine the fault, And well my life shall pay ; I'll seek the solitude he sought,
And stretch me where he lay.
And there forlorn, despairing, hid,
I'll lay me down and die ; 'Twas so for me that Edwin did,
And so for him will I.'
'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.
"Turn, Angelina, ever dear,
My charmer, turn to see,
Restor'd to love and thee.
• Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And ev'ry care resign.'
My life—my all that's mine?'
No, never from this hour to part;
We'll live and love so true,
EDWIN AND EMMA.
Far in the windings of a vale,
Fast by a shelt'ring wood,
A humble cottage stood.
There beanteous Emma flourish'd fair
Beneath a mother's eye,
To see her bless'd, and die.
The softest blush that nature spreads
Gave colour to her cheek;
When May's sweet mornings break.
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 sbe fir'd each youth with love,
Each maiden with despair;
Yet knew not she was fair.
Till Edwin came, the pride of swains,
A soul that knew no art,
Shope forth the feeling heart.
A mutual flame was quickly caught,
Was quickly too reveal’d;
Which virtue keeps conceal'd.
What happy hours of heartfelt bliss
Did love on both bestow!
Where fortune proves a foe.
His sister, who like Envy form'd,
Like her in mischief joy'd, To work them harm, with wicked skill
Each darker art employ'd.
The father too, a sordid man,
Who love nor pity knew, Was all unfeeling as the rock
From whence his riches grew.