\ VIII.

Along this narrow valley you might see

The wild deer sporting on the meadow ground,
And, here and there, a solitary tree,

Or mossy stone, or rock with woodbine crown'd.
Oft did the cliffs reverberate the sound

Of parted fragments tumbling from on high;
And from the summit of that craggy mound
The perching eagle oft was heard to cry,
Or on resounding wings to shoot athwart the sky.

IX.

One cultivated spot there was, that spread
Its flowry bosom to the noonday beam,
Where many a rose-bud rears its blushing head,
And herbs for food with future plenty teem.
Sooth'd by the lulling sound of grove and stream,
Romantic visions swarm on Edwin's soul:
He minded not the sun's last trembling gleam,
Nor heard from far the twilight curfew toll;
When slowly on his ear these moving accents stole.

X.

"Hail, awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast,
"And woo the weary to profound repose;
"Can passion's wildest uproar lay to rest,
"And whisper comfort to the man of woes!
"Here innocence may wander, safe from foes,
"And contemplation soar on seraph wings.
"O Solitude, the man who thee foregoes,
"When lucre lures him, or ambition stings,

"Shall never know the source whence real grandeur springs.

XI.

"Vain man, is grandeur given to gay attire? "Then let the butterfly thy pride upbraid:

"To friends, attendants, armies, bought with hire? "It is thy weakness that requires their aid:

"To palaces, with gold and gems inlay'd? "They fear the thief, and tremble in the storm: "To hosts, through carnage who to conquest wade? "Behold the victor vanquish'd by the worm! "Behold, what deeds of wo the locust can perform!

XII.

"True dignity is his, whose tranquil mind "Virtue has raised above the things below; "Who, every hope and fear to Heaven resign'd, "Shrinks not, though Fortune aim her deadliest blow." This strain from 'midst the rocks was heard to flow, In solemn sounds. Now beam'd the evening star; And from embattled clouds emerging slow Cynthia came riding on her silver car ;

And hoary mountain-cliffs shone faintly from afar.

XIII.

Soon did the solemn voice its theme renew;
(While Edwin wrapt in wonder listening stood)
Ye tools and toys of tyranny, adieu,

"Scorn'd by the wise, and hated by the good!
"Ye only can engage the servile brood
"Of Levity and Lust, who all their days,
"Asham'd of truth and liberty, have woo'd,

"And hug'd the chain, that glittering on their gaze "Seems to outshine the pomp of heaven's empyreal blaze.

XIV.

"Like them, abandon'd to Ambition's sway,

"I sought for glory in the paths of guile;

"And fawn'd and smiled, to plunder and betray,
"Myself betray'd and plunder'd all the while;
"So gnaw'd the viper the corroding file.
"But now with pangs of keen remorse I rue
"Those years of trouble and debasement vile.
"Yet why should I this cruel theme pursue?
Fly, fly, detested thoughts, for ever from my view.

XV.

"The gusts of appetite, the clouds of care,
"And storms of disappointment, all o'erpast,

"Henceforth, no earthly hope with heaven shall share

"This heart, where peace serenely shines at last.

"And if for me no treasure be amass'd,

"And if no future age shall hear my name, "I lurk the more secure from fortune's blast, "And with more leisure feed this pious flame, "Whose rapture far transcends the fairest hope of fame.

XVI.

"The end and the reward of toil is rest.

"Be all my prayer for virtue and for peace.

"Of wealth and fame, of pomp and power possess'd,
"Who ever felt his weight of wo decrease!
"Ah! what avails the lore of Rome and Greece,
"The lay heaven prompted, and harmonious string
"The dust of Ophir, or the Tyrian fleece,

"All that art, fortune, enterprise, can bring,
"If envy, scorn, remorse, or pride the bosom wring!

XVII.

"Let Vanity adorn the marble tomb

"With trophies, rhymes, and 'scutcheons of renown, "In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome, "Where night and desolation ever frown. "Mine be the breeezy hill that skirts the down; "Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, "With here and there a violet bestrown,

"Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave; "And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.

XVIII.

"And thither let the village swain repair; "And, light of heart, the village maiden gay, "To deck with flowers her half-dishevel'd hair, "And celebrate the merry morn of May. "There let the shepherd's pipe the live-long day "Fill all the grove with love's bewitching wo; "And when mild Evening comes in mantle grey, "Let not the blooming band make haste to go; "No ghost nor spell my long and last abode shall know.

XIX.

"For though I fly to 'scape from Fortune's rage,
"And bear the scars of envy, spite, and scorn,
"Yet with mankind no horrid war I wage,

"Yet with no impious spleen my breast is torn;
"For virtue lost, and ruin'd man, I mourn.
"O Man, creation's pride, heaven's darling child,
"Whom nature's best divinest gifts adorn,
"Why from thy home are truth and joy exiled,

"And all thy favourite haunts with blood and tears defiled!

XX.

"Along yon glittering sky what glory streams!
"What majesty attends Night's lovely queen!
"Fair laugh our vallies in the vernal beams;
"And mountains rise, and oceans roll between,
"And all conspire to beautify the scene.

But, in the mental world, what chaos drear!
"What forms of mournful, loathsome, furious mien !
"O when shall that Eternal Morn appear,

"These dreadful forms to chase, this chaos dark to clear !

XXI.

"O Thou, at whose creative smile, yon heaven, "In all the pomp of beauty, life and light,

"Rose from th' abyss; when dark Confusion, driven "Down, down the bottomless profound of night, "Fled, where he ever flies thy piercing sight! “O glance on these sad shades one pitying ray, "To blast the fury of oppressive might,

"Melt the hard heart to love and mercy's sway,

And cheer the wandering soul, and light him on the way."

XXII.

Silence ensued: and Edwin raised his eyes
In tears, for grief lay heavy at his heart.
"And is it thus in courtly life (he cries)
"That man to man acts a betrayer's part?

And dares he thus the gifts of heaven pervert,
"Each social instinct, and sublime desire ?
"Hail poverty! if honour, wealth, and art,
"If what the great pursue, and learn'd admire,
"Thus dissipate and quench the soul's ethereal fire!
XXIII.

He said, and turn'd away; nor did the Sage
O'erhear, in silent orison's employ'd.
The Youth, his rising sorrow to assuage,
Home as he hied, the evening scene enjoy'd:
For now no cloud obscures the starry void;
The yellow moonlight sleeps on all the hills*
Nor is the mind with startling sounds annoy'd;
A soothing murmur the lone region fills,
Of groves, and dying gales, and melancholy rills.

;

* How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank.

Shakspeare.

XXIV.

But he from day to day more anxious grew.
The voice still seem'd to vibrate on his ear.
Nor durst he hope the Hermit's tale untrue;
For man he seem'd to love, and heaven to fear;
And none speaks false, where there is none to hear.
"Yet, can man's gentle heart become so fell!

"No more in vain conjecture let me wear

"

My hours away, but seek the Hermit's cell;

'Tis he my doubt can clear, perhaps my care dispel.”

XXV.

At early dawn the Youth his journey took,
And many a mountain pass'd, and valley wide,
Then reach'd the wild; where, in a flowery Nook,
And seated on a mossy stone, he spied

An ancient man: his harp lay him beside.
A stag sprang from the pasture at his call,

And, kneeling, lick'd the wither'd hand that tied
A wreathe of woodbine round his antlers tall,
And hung his lofty neck with many a flowret small.

XXVI.

And now the hoary Sage arose, and saw
The wanderer approaching: innocence
Smiled on his glowing cheek, but modest awe
Depress'd his eye, that fear'd to give offence.

"Who art thou, courteous stranger? and from whence!
"Why roam thy steps to this sequester'd dale ?"
"A shepherd-boy (the Youth replied) far hence
"My habitation; hear my artless tale ;

"Nor levity nor falsehood shall thine ear assail.

XXVII.

"Late as I roam'd, intent on Nature's charms,
"I reach'd at eve this wilderness profound;
"And, leaning where yon oak expands her arms,
"Heard these rude cliffs thine awful voice rebound,
(For in thy speech I recognize the sound.)
"You mourn'd for ruin'd man, and virtue lost,
"And seem'd to feel of keen remorse the wound,
Pondering on former days by guilt engross'd,

"Or in the giddy storm of dissipation toss'd.