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Long had he seen their mutual flame,
And seen it long anmov'd;
He sternly disapprov'd.
In Edwin's gentle heart a war.
Of differing passions strove;
Yet could not cease to love.
Denied her sight, he oft behind
The spreading hawthorn crept,
Where Emma walk'd and wept.
Oft too in Stanmore's wintry waste,
Beneath the moonlight shade, In sighs to pour his soften'd soul
The midnight mourner stray'd.
His cheeks, where love with beauty glow'd,
A deadly pale o'ercast;
Before the northern blast.
The parents now, with late remorse,
Hung o'er his dying bed,
And fruitless sorrows shed.
' 'Tis past,' he cried, “but if your souls ;
Sweet mercy yet can move,
What they must ever love.?
She came; his cold hand softly touch'd, mp3fY) !
And bath'd with many a tear ;-) Fast falling o'er the primrose pale
So morning dews appear.
But oh! his sister's jealous care
(A cruel sister she !). Forbad what Enima came to say,
‘My Edwin, live for me.!
Now homeward as she hopeless went
The church-yard path along,
Her lover's funeral song,
Amid the falling gloom of night
Her startling fancy found
Alone, appall'd, thus had she pass'd
The visionary vale,
Sad sounding in the gale!
Just then she reach'd, with trembling step,
Her aged mother's door, 'He's gone,' she cried, and I shall see
That angel face no more !
'I feel, I feel this breaking heart
Beat high against my side :'
She, shivering, sigh’d and died. 1. Mallet.
WILLIAM AND MARGARET.
When all was wrapp'd in dark midnight,
And all were fast asleep,
And stood at William's feet.
Clad in a wintry cloud;
That held the sable shroud.
When youth and years are flown; Such is the robe that kings must wear
When death has reft their crown.
That sips the silver dew;
And opening to the view.
Consum'd her early prime;
She died before her time. * Awake!' she cried, thy true-love calls,
Come from her midnight grave; Now let thy pity hear the maid
Thy love refus'd to save:
When injur'd ghosts complain :
To haunt the faithless swain.
'Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,
Thy pledge and broken oath,
“How could you say my face was fair,
And yet that face forsake?
Yet leave that heart to break?
How could you promise love to me,
And not that promise keep?
'How could you say my lip was sweet,
And made the scarlet pale ?
Believe the flattering tale?
"That face, alas! no more is fair,
That lip no longer red;
And every charm is fled.
'The hungry worm my sister is,
This winding sheet I wear ;
Till that last morn appear.
But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence:
A long and last adien! Come see,
false man ! how low she lies That died for love of you.'
Now birds did sing, and Morning smild,
And show'd her glittering head; Pale William shook in every limb,
Then, raving, left his bed.
Where Margʻret's body lay,
That wrapp'd her breathless clay:
And thrice he wept full sore;
LUCY AND COLIN. Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace ;
Reflect so fair a face;
Impair'd her rosy bue,
And eyes of glossy blue.
When beating rains descend?
Her life now near its end.
Take heed, ye easy fair;
Ye perjur'd swains, beware.