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His rising cares the hermit spy'd,
With answering 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 unregarried love this is “ Alas! the joys that fortune brings,
“ Are trifling, and decay; « And those who prize the paltry things,
“ More trifling still than 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,
" To warm the turtle's nest.
« For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hus!,
“ And spurn the sex," he said: 1 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,
As bright, as transient too.
The bashful look, the rising breast,
Alternate spread alarms;
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 mind,
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
“ 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 l.”
• 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,
My charmer, turn to see
“ 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."
EUPOLIS HYAIN TO THE CREATOR.
FROM THE GREEK.
Thee, when morning greets the skies