Around in sympathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups on the hearth; But nothing could a charm impart His rising cares the hermit 'spied, From better habitations spurn'd, Reluctant dost thou rove; Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, Alas! the joys that fortune brings, Are trifling, and decay; And those that prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they. And what is friendship but a name, 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, Surpris'd! he sees new beauties rise, The bashful look, the rising breast, The lovely stranger stands confest And, ah, forgive a stranger rude, .. 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, And all his wealth was mark'd for mine, To win me from his tender arms Each hour the mercenary crowd, In humble simplest habit clad, The blossom opening to the day, The dew, the blossom on the tree, With charms inconstant shine ; Their charms were his, but woe is 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. Till quite dejected with my scorn, He left me to my pride; And sought a solitude forlorn, In secret where he died. But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And there forlorn, despairing, hid, Forbid it, Heaven! the hermit cried, Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long lost Edwin here, Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And ev'ry care resign: And shall we never, never part, No, never from this hour to part, The sigh that rends thy constant heart, COLIN AND LUCY. [By Tickell.] OF Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair, Bright Lucy was the grace; Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream Reflect a fairer face. Till luckless love and pining care Impair'd her rosy hue, Her coral lips, her damask cheeks, |