22

THE HERMIT.

His rifing cares the Hermit fpy'd,

With anfwering care opprest:

"And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd, "The forrows of thy breaft?

"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 ftill than they.

"And what is friendship but a name,
"A charm that lulls to fleep;
"A shade that follows wealth or fame,
"And leaves the wretch to weep?

"And love is ftill an emptier found, The modern fair-one's jeft:

"On earth unfeen, or only found

"To warm the turtle's neft.

"For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows hufh,

"And fpurn the fex," he said:

But while he spoke, a rising blush

His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Sur

Supriz'd he fees new beauties rife,
Swift mantling to the view;
Like colours o'er the morning fkies,
As bright, as tranfient too.

The bashful look, the rifing breast,
Alternate spread alarms :
The lovely stranger ftands confeft
A maid in all her charms.

"And, ah, forgive a ftranger rude,
"A wretch forlorn," the cry'd;
"Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude
"Where heaven and you refide.

"But let a maid thy pity share,
"Whom love has taught to stray:
"Who feeks for reft, but finds defpair

My father liv'd befide the Tyne, "A wealthy lord was he;

"And all his wealth was mark'd as mine,

"He had but only me.

"To win me from his tender arms,

"Unnumber'd fuitors came;

"Who prais'd me for imputed charms, "And felt, or feign'd a flame.

C 4

24

THE HERMIT.

"Each hour a mercenary crowd

"With richest proffers ftrove; "Among the reft young Edwin bow'd, "But never talk'd of love.

"In humble, fimpleft habit clad,
"No wealth or power had he;
"Wisdom and worth were all he had,
"But these were all to me.

"The bloffom opening to the day,
"The dews of heav'n refin'd,
"Could nought of purity display,
"To emulate his mind,

"The dew, the bloffoms of the tree,
"With charms inconftant shine;

Their charms was his, but wo to me,
"Their conftancy was mine.

"For ftill I try'd each fickle art,

"Importunate and vain;

"And while his paffion touch'd my heart,

"I triumph'd in his pain.

"Till quite dejected with my fcorn,

"He left me to my pride;

"And fought a folitude forlorn "In fecret where he dy❜d.

"But

"But mine the forrow, mine the fault,
"And well my life fhall pay;
"I'll feek the folitude he fought,

"And stretch me where he lay.

"And there forlorn, defpairing hid,
"I'll lay me down and die;
"'Twas fo for me that Edwin did,
"And fo for him will I."

"Forbid it, heaven!" the Hermit cry'd,
And clafp'd her to his breast:
The wondering fair one turn'd to chide,
'Twas Edwin's felf that preft.

"Turn, Angelina, ever dear, "My charmer turn to fee

"Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here, "Reftor'd to love and thee.

"Thus let me hold thee to my heart, "And every care refign:

"And fhall we never, never part, "My life-my all that's mine.

"No, never, from this hour to part, "We'll live and love fo true,

"The figh that rends thy conftant heart,

"Shall break thy Edwin's too."

ΑΝ

GOOD people all, of every sort,

Give ear unto my fong;

And if you find it wonderous fhort,
It cannot hold you long.

In Ifling-ton there was a man,
Of whom the world might fay,
That ftill a godly race he run,
Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad,
When he put on his cloaths.

And in that town a dog was found,

As many dogs there be,

Both mungrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,

And curs of low degree.

This