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His rising cares the hermit spy'd,

With answering care opprest: And whenee, unhappy youth," he cry'd;

The sorrows of thy breast? ::

« From better habitations spurn'd,

ri Reluctant dost thou rove: Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,

“ Or unregarried love till

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Alas! the joys that fortune brings,

“ Are trifling, and decay; “ And those who prize the paltry things,

« More trifling still then they. “ And what is friendship but a'name,

" A charm that lulls to sleep; " A shade that follows wealth or fame.

" 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 sorrow's husli,

And spurn the sex," he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush,

His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Surpris’d, he sees new beauties rise

Swift mantling to the view,
Like colours o'er the morning skies ;

As bright, as transient too.
The bashful looks the rising breast,

Alternate spread alarms;
The lovely stranger stands confes:

A maid, in all her charms.

And, “ Ah, forgive a stranger rude,

" A wretch forlorn,” she cry'd; " Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude "Where Heaven and



“ But let a maid thy pity share,

“ Whom love has taught to stray; “ Who seeks for rest, but finds despair '« Coinpanion of her way. My father liv'd beside the Tyne,

“ A wealthy lord was he; « And all his wealth was mark'd as mine,

“ He had hat only me..

" To win me from his tender arms,

• Unnumber'd suitors came; " Who prais'd me for imputed charms, “ And felt or feign’d a flame.

“ Each hour a mercenary crowd

“ With richest proffers strove: Among the rest young Edwin bow'd, “But never talk'd of love.

“ In humble, simplest habit clad,

“ Nor 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 to me!

“ Their constancy was mine.

" For still I try'd 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 dy'd.

" 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 cry'd,

And clasp'd her to his breast: The wond'ring fair one turn'd to chide,

'Twas Edwin's self that press’d.

Turn, Angelina, ever dear,

Mỹ charmer, turn to see " Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,

" Restor'd to love and thee.

“ 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;

in We'll live and love so true; The sigh that rends thy constant heart. “ Shall break thy Edwin's too."



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AUTHOR of Being, source of light,
With unfading beauties bright,
Fullness, goodness, rolling round
Thy own fair orb without a bound:
Whether thee thy suppliants call
Truth, or Good, or Onę, or All,
Ei, or lao; thee we hail,
Essence that can never fail,
Grecian or Barbaric name,
Thy stedfast being still the same.

Thee, when morning greets the skies With rosy cheeks and humid'eyes; Thee, when sweet declining day Sinks in purple waves away; Thee will I sing, O parent 'Jove, And teach the world to praisecand love. !

Yonder azure vault on high, Yonder blue, low, liquid sky,

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