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Around in sympathetic mirth

Its tricks the kitten tries,
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,

The crackling faggot flies.


But nothing could a charm impart

To soothe the strangers woe; For grief was heavy at his heart,

And tears began to flow.


His rising cares the Hermit spy'd,

With answ'ring care opprest: “ And whence, unhappy youth,” he cry'd,

“ The sorrows of thy breast?


“ From better habitations spurn'd,

« Reluctant dost thou rove? “ Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,

“ Or unregarded love?


Alas! the joys that fortune brings,

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

“ More trifling still than they.

" And


“ 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 sorrows hush,

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

His love-lorn guest betray’d.


Surpriz'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 look, the rising breast,

Alternate spread alarms:
The lovely stranger stands confest.

A maid in all her charms.

* And,


“And, ah! forgive a stranger rude,

“A wretch forlorn,” she cry'd; 6 Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude “ Where Heav'n and




“ 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; 6 And all his wealth was mark'd as mine,

“He had but only me.


" To win me from his tender arms,

- Unnumber'd suitors came; “ Who praisd me for imputed charms,

And felt, or feign'd a flame.



« Each hour a mercenary crowd

“ With richest proffers strove; “ Amongst the rest young Edwin bow'd

“ But never talk'd of love.

را ،،


“In humble simplest habit clad,

“ No wealth nor power had he; • Wisdom and worth were all he had,

" But these were all to me.

“ And when, beside mein the dale,

“ He carold lays of love, “ His breath lent fragrance to the gale,

• And music to the grove.


i6 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,

os With charins inconstant shine; 66 Their charms were his, but woe to 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.

* This stanza, never before printed, was communicated by Richard Archdal, Esq. who received it from the Author himself.

« Till



« 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.

XXXVI. " 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 prest.

XXXVIII. “ Turn, Angelina, ever dear,

“ My charmer turn to see “ Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,

« Restor'd to love and thee.

« Thus

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