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,
No wealth nor power had he;
Wisdom and worth were all he had,
But these were all to me.t

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 heaven refin'd,
Could nought of purity display
To emulate his mind.§

["Among the rest young Edwin bow'd,
Who offer'd only love."-First edit.]

["A constant heart was all he had,
But that was all to me."-Ibid.]

[This stanza, which was written some years after the rest of the poem. was presented in manuscript by Goldsmith to Richard Archdal, Esq., of Ireland.]

$ ["Whene'er he spoke amidst the train

How would my heart attend!

XXXII.

"The dew, the blossom on the tree,

With charms inconstant shine;

Their charms were his, but woe to me!

Their constancy was mine.

XXXIII.

"For still I tried 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 died.†

And till delighted even to pain,
How sigh for such a friend!

"And when a little rest I sought,
In Sleep's refreshing arms,
How have I mended what he taught,
And lent him fancied charms!

"Yet still (and woe betide the hour!)

I spurn'd him from my side,

And still with ill-dissembled power,

Repaid his love with pride."-First edit]

•["Till quite dejected with my scorn,
He left me to deplore;

And sought a solitude forlorn,
And ne'er was heard of more.

"Then since he perish'd by my fault,
This pilgrimage I pay," &c.-Ibid.

[Imit." And grew so coy and nice to please,
As women's looks are often soe,

He might not kisse, nor hand forsooth,
Unlesse I willed him soe to do.

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."t

XXXVII.

"Forbid it Heaven!" the Hermit cried, And clasp'd her to his breast;

"Thus being wearyed with delayes,

To see I pittyed not his greeffe,

He gott him to a secret place,

And there he dyed without releeffe."-Gentle Herdsman.

[Imit." And for his sake these weeds I weare,
And srcrifice my tender age;

And every day Ile beg my bread,
To undergoe this pilgrimage.

"Thus every day I fast and pray,
And ever will doe till I dye;

And gett me to some secret place,

For soe did he, and soe will I.”—Ibid.]

"And there in shelt'ring thickets hid,
I'll linger till I die:

'Twas thus for me my lover did,
And so for him will I.

"Thou shalt not thus, the Hermit cried,
And clasp'd her to his breast:

The astonish'd fair one turned to chide,-
'Twas Edwin's self that prest.

"For now no longer could he hide,
What first to hide he strove;
His looks resume their youthful pride,

And flush with honest love."-First edit.]

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.

ΧΧΧΙΧ.

"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?

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."t

["No, never, from this hour to part,
Our love shall still be new;

And the last sigh that rends the heart,
Shall break thy Edwin's too."--First edit.]

[Here followed in the original draught:

"Here amidst sylvan bowers we'll rove,
From lawn to woodland stray;
Blest as the songsters of the grove,

And innocent as they.

To all that want, and all that wail,

Our pity shall be given,

And when this life of love shall fail,

We'll love again in heaven."]

THE

DESERTED VILLAGE.

A POEM.