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She faw him wither in his bloom,
Nor could fhe yield relief:

For, with a heart devoid of blame,

He liv'd to joy no more;

And now refolv'd, for wealth and fame,
To search some foreign shore.

The night was come, the fatal night,
Replete with tender pain;

Doom'd, in his native land, the light
Ne'er to behold again.

And now the penfive mourner ftray'd,
No gleam of hope he knew;
He went to bid his charming maid
A long, a last adieu!

As o'er her form foft forrow ftole,
Her thoughts you might defcry;
It feem'd as if her spotless foul
Beam'd from her azure eye.

No more her cheek that glow exprefs'd
Which health had once difplay'd,

While, careless, o'er her lily breast
Her auburn treffes play'd.

Alas! fhe cry'd, and clafp'd his hand,

And prefs'd it to her heart;

And do the cruel Fates command?

And muft we, Albert, part?

We

We muft, o'erwhelm'd in grief, he said,
We muft, Elweena dear!
But, ere I go, afflicted maid,
Accept my vow fincere.

Whene'er through foreign lands I roam,
Whatever change I fee,

Still, turning to my native home,
My heart fhall dwell with thee.

He faid, and o'er Elweena's breast
The briny torrent fell;

A thousand times her hand he prefs'd,

And bade as oft farewell.

They part, and through the mournful grove

Her maids Elweena bore;

Each caft a ling'ring look of love,

Till they could view no more.

Now foftly o'er the dewy plain
Night's dusky fhadows stole;
While anguish, love, and cruel pain,
Opprefs'd young Albert's foul.

His mother, gently on his breaft
Reclin'd her drooping head;

The weeping youth she fondly press'd,
And mutual forrows fhed.

While, ftrangers to each peaceful smile,
They mourn'd their luckless fate,

2

M 6

An

An aged pilgrim, spent with toil,
Approach'd the cottage-gate.

The mournful youth, in humble plight,
Addrefs'd the rev'rend fage;
Who afk'd a fhelter for the night,
To reft his drooping age.

Full welcome to their humble fhed,

The hofpitable pair

With lib'ral hand the viands spread,
And bade the stranger share.

With pain he mark'd the cruel grief,
That prey'd on either heart;
Which (anxious to extend relief)

He begg'd them to impart.

With livid cheek, and tearful eye,
The penfive Albert rose,

And told, but, oh! with many a figh,

The story of his woes.

His life, his birth, his father's name,
His mother's tender care;

But, ftill more fad, the fatal flame
He bore Elweena fair.

The good old man with transport flew,
And prefs'd the youth, and fmil'd;
He cried, Support me, heavens! I view
My long-loft wife and child!

'Twas

"Twas on no diftant Indian shore
Thy father funk to reft;

But now returns with ample store,
To make his Albert blefs'd.

And thou, dear partner of my foul,
Whom oft my fancy drew;

Nor time, nor abfence, could controuł
The pangs I felt for you!

Then chafe all forrow from your breaft,

Secure from bitter ftrife;
Myself will footh to balmy reft
The ev'ning of your life.

He ceas'd; and to his conftant fair
Enraptur'd Albert flew ;
And left the long-divided pair,
To tell their joys anew.

The blissful news Elweena told,
And made her fire relent;
Nor more to Albert's paffion cold,
Nor more deny'd consent.

And when the azure-vested day
Dawn'd o'er the smiling land,
In mutual blifs, ferenely gay,
They join'd the nuptial band.

MISS H. FALCONAR

SECT.

THE

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HE rifing fun's enlivening ray
Difpell'd the gloom of night,
Each verdant field and flowery spray
With dew-drops twinkled bright.

The earliest of the feather'd throng,
As round all nature fmil'd,
A woodlark tun'd his matin song,
In ftrains divinely wild.

O fay, ye foft harmonious train,
Ye warblers of the grove,

Who taught you thus to pour that strain,
Or tune your voice to love?

The fweeteft bird that e'er could fing,
Or flower that e'er could blow,
Alike to heaven's eternal King
Their bloom and mufic owe.

To him, ye birds, attune your lays,
For they to him belong,

And let your music found his praise
In one concordant song.

MISS M. FALCONAR.

SECT.

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