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“ Alas! the joys that fortune brings
Are trifling, and decay;
More trifling still than they.
A charm that lulls to sleep;
And leaves the wretch to weep ?
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,
" he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush
His love-lorn guest betray'd.
Swift mantling to the view;
As bright, as transient too.
Alternate spread alarms:
A maid in all her charms.
“And, ah ! forgive a stranger rude,
And wretch forlorn,” she cried ; « Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude
Where Heaven and you reside. “But let a maid thy pity share,
Whom love has taught to stray;
Who seeks for rest, but finds despair
Companion of her way.
A wealthy lord was he;
He had but only me.
Unnumber'd suitors came;
And felt or feign’d a flame.
With richest proffers strove: Among the rest young Edwin bow'd,
But never talk'd of love. “In humble, simplest habit clad,
No 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 refined, Could naught of purity display
To emulate his mind.
“The dew, the blossom on the tree,
With charms inconstant shine;
Their constancy was mine.
Importunate and vain;
I triumph'd in his pain:
“Till, quite dejected with my scorn, He left me to my pride ;
130 And sought a solitude forlorn
In secret, where he died.
And well my life shall pay;
135 And stretch me where he lay. “And there forlorn, despairing, hid,
I'll lay me down and die; 'T was so for me that Edwin did, And so for him will I.”
140 “Forbid it, Heaven !” the Hermit cried,
And clasp'd her to his breast:
'T was Edwin's self that presto “Turn, Angelina, ever dear,
145 My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,
Restored to love and thee. “Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And every care resign:
150 And shall we never, never part,
My life—my all that's mine ? “No, never from this hour to part,
We 'll live and love so true, The sigh that rends thy constant heart 155 Shall break thy Edwin's too."
EDWIN AND EMMA.
Far in the windings of a vale,
Fast by a sheltering wood,
A humble cottage stood.
Beneath a mother's eye;
To see her blest, and die.
Gave colour to her cheek;
When vernal mornings break.
This charmer of the plains :
who bids their diamonds blaze,
Each maiden with despair;
Yet knew not she was fair:
A soul devoid of art,
Shone forth the feeling heart.
A mutual flame was quickly caught;
Was quickly too reveal'd :
That virtue keeps conceal’d.
What happy hours of heart-felt bliss
Did love on both bestow !
Where fortune proves a foe.
Like her in mischief joy'd,
Each darker art employ’d.
Who love nor pity knew, Was all-unfeeling as the clod
From whence his riches grew.
And seen it long unmoved:
Had sternly disapproved.
Of differing passions strove :
Yet could not cease to love.
The spreading hawthorn crept,
Where Emma walk'd and wept.
Beneath the moonlight shade,
The midnight mourner stray'd.
A deadly pale o'ercast: