Around in sympathetic mirth XV. But nothing could a charm impart XVI. His rising cares the Hermit spy'd, With answ'ring care opprest: "And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd, "The sorrows of thy breast? XVII. "From better habitations spurn'd, "Reluctant dost thou rove? "Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, "Or unregarded love? XVIII. "Alas! the joys that fortune brings, "Are trifling, and decay; And those who prize the paltry things, "More trifling still are they. XIX. "And what is friendship but a name, XX. "And love is still an emptier sound, XXI. "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, "And spurn the sex," he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush His love-lorn guest betray'd. XXII. Surpris'd he sees new beauties rise, XXIII. The bashful look, the rising breast, The lovely stranger stands confest XXIV. "And ah! forgive a stranger rude, XXV. "But let a maid thy pity share, "Whom love has taught to stray: "Who seeks for rest, but finds Despair "Companion of her way. XXVI. "My father liv'd beside the Tyne, "A wealthy lord was he; "And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, "He had but only me. XXVII. "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. XXVIII. "Each hour a mercenary crowd "With richest proffers strove ; "Amongst the rest young Edwin bow'd, "But never talk'd of love. XXIX. "In humble simplest habit clad, XXX "And when, beside me in the dale, "He carol'd lays of love, "His breath lent fragrance to the gale "And music to the grove XXXI. "The blossom opening to the day, "The dews of Heav'n refin'd "Could nought of purity display "To emulate his mind. * This stanza, never before printed, was communicated by Richard Archdal, Esq. who received it from the Author himself. XXXII. The dew, the blossom on the tree, "With charms inconstant shine; "Their charms were his, but wo to me, "Their constancy was mine. XXXIII. "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. XXXIV. "Till quite dejected with my scorn, "He left me to my pride; "And sought a solitude forlorn, "In secret, where he dy❜d. XXXV. "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, "And well my life shall pay ; "I'll seek the solitude he sought, "And stretch me where he lay. XXXVI. "And there forlorn despairing hid, "I'll lay me down and die; ""Twas so for me that Edwin did, "And so for him will I." XXXVII. "Forbid it Heav'n !" 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 prest. XXXVIII. "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, "My charmer turn to see "Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, "Restor❜d to love and thee. XXXIX. Thus let me hold thee to my heart, "And every care resign: "And shall we never, never part, "My life-my all that's mine? XL. "No never from this hour to part, "We'll live and love so true; "The sigh that rends thy constant heart, "Shall break thy Edwin's too." AN ELEGY, ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG*. GOOD people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wond'rous short, In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, A kind and gentle heart he had, When he put on his clothes. * This, and the following Poem, appeared in the Vicar of Wakefield, which was published in the year 1765, |