I fondly hung o'er charms still bright in death,
Nor left her side 'till in the gaping tomb
They laid my Love! then o'er the new-made grave,
I pour'd my sighs in midnight's solemn gloom.
And there I knelt upon her grass-grown bed,
And call'd my lost one to my arms again :
Methought betimes I saw her on a cloud

Serenely sit; but ah ! that thought was vain.
So here I hasten'd from the mournful scene,
That met my sight, wherere my footsteps mov'd;
That by fair prospects of new lands beguil❜d,
I might forget the lost ones most belov❜d.
But ne'er can I forget the friends now gone,
Nor yet my lov'd one's sad and hapless doom;
For oh! I feel assur'd that here I rove,

To find-not pleasure but a foreign tomb. This tottering frame, this pale and deathlike cheek, This sunken eye, this weak and nerveless arm ; Prove that the lonely wanderer soon must die, And death to me hath now full many a charm. I wander'd forth from where a city stands, In distance far, to breathe the balmy air, Till night came on, then by your taper led,

I found you here, and grateful feel your care." Thus said the stranger, while with pensive sighs The cave reecho'd; from each eye the tears Flow'd quickly down; then silence reign'd again, Save when the hermit bid subside his fears. The stranger wept, nor did he cease to sigh, Deep was his agony, and great his woe. "Now listen then to me," the hermit said,

"I too have felt the storms of sorrow blow.

Here in this land I drew my infant breath,

My Father died ere me my mother bore ;
My mother's bosom scarce my head had prest,

Ere that sweet angel to the tomb they bore.
A guardian watch'd with hate my rising years,
And robb'd me of a fortune left behind;
No friend had I, but outcast then I roam'd,
My head defenceless to the storm and wind.
A quick reverse of fortune turn'd the scale,

Talents conspicious, bright, in me were found;
High fled my name on wings of noisy fame,

But what is fame? a cheat, an empty sound: I saw a maid, I lov'd her heavenly charms,

And in return possess'd her ardent love; The bridal day was fix'd, but ah! I found,

Blest happiness below I could not prove. Another suitor gain'd the fair one's hand,

Who roll'd in luxury, and gold unknown; In frantic rage, I curs'd her heartless friends,

Who forc'd from both, the deep, the heart-felt groan. Disgusted with the world I here retir❜d,

Afar from men, and from their wicked ways;

And happy here the winged moments fled,
And here I thought to spend my future days.
But wandering once beside yon silvery stream,
I met a fair maid, and with her convers'd;
For her I left these scenes, for know I lov'd,
Tho' since, that fatal love, full oft I've curs'd.
I married her, and liv'd, how blest! awhile,
A smiling babe soon crown'd our nuptial joys;
She grew in beauty and in every grace,
And all her mother sparkled in her eyes.

F

26

THE HERMIT AND THE TRAVELLER.

My wife, Alas! trod in the paths of vice,

For soon I found she basely lov'd my friend;
She fled with him upon the ocean's wave,

Where with my child, they met untimely end.
I curs'd, and rav'd, and beat my throbbing breast,
And tore the curls from off my youthful brow;
And here returning to my moss-grown cave,
I swore to live for ever more as now.

This vow I've kept, and calm'd is now my rage,
In studied lore I wile the time away;

And strike my harp, and at the midnight hour,
My vigils keep, and pure devotions pay.
And here my woeful days shall close in peace,

And here I'll die within this stilly cave;

Then laid beneath this floor by some kind hand,
Sweet shall I sleep, while winds around me rave."
The hermit ceas'd, yet tears still quivering flow'd,
As each reclin'd on the damp leaves to rest:
They slept not, but still brooding o'er the past,
Full many a sigh, woke from each trembling breast.
Soon as bright Phebus sipp'd the dews away,

The stranger grateful rose, and left the cave;
They wept and sigh'd, upon each other's breast,

Thinking that each might find a hapless grave. The hermit led him forth, and show'd the way,

To where the tow'ring city rear'd its head, High in the fleecy clouds that silvery shone ;

They sigh'd farewell!—and from each other sped.

EDWIN AND SARAH.

WHEN the gloomy night is resting round,
And Winter holds his stern reign;
And snug you sit and listen the sound
Of the wind and the pouring rain.
O then many a tale of the olden time,
Is told by the old man there ;
And many a song, and a caroll'd rhyme,

Is woke by the young and the fair.
How often I've sat with anxious ear,
To listen the merry lay ;

Or round the fire, with others drew near,
To hear of a spirit or fay.

One night, I well recollect the time,
When in the old rustic chair;

The matron who often beguil'd our time,
Collected us round her there;
Where she was knitting beside the fire,
By the glimmering taper blue;
Where her fond list'ners she never could tire,

As they trembling, round her drew.

"Ill tell you a tale of another day,

Now listen to me," she said;

"Young Edwin in childhood lov'd to play,

With Sarah the village maid.

And as they grew to maturer years,

Oft would they breathe the fond sigh; In some lone grove, in each others' ears, Yet scarcely could they tell why.

Their friendship ripen'd to ardent love,

That promis'd them bliss for years;
But many a sorrow did Edwin prove,
And Sarah shed many tears.

For ah! when his friends his fondness knew,
They sent him away to sea;

And sad was the parting of Edwin the true,
When he sigh'd, " be constant to me ;
For when months and years have pass'd away,
I shall leave the billowy main;

And fly to thee, and the bridal day,

Shall end our sorrow and pain."

He ceas'd-and Sarah, the pure, and the true,
Press'd a kiss on his handsome brow;

The tears triekl'd down from his eyes' soft blue,
On her pearly bosom of snow.

The last words fell from each honied tongue,
And he fled to the foaming sea;

But he never caroll'd his once lov'd song,
And his eye ne'er sparkled with glee.
But on the deck he would silent stand,
When the moon shone mildly bright;
Oh! he would not leave his native land,
And his lov'd one, that child of light.
He fled from the bark on the foaming sea,
Ere it sail'd to another shore ;

And met his belov'd one secretly,

Where she kiss'd his lov'd likeness o'er. She saw him not, but from her bright eye, A tear trickled down her cheek;

He mark'd her white bosom thrill with the deep sigh, And he heard his lov'd Sarah speak,