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· Forbear, my son,” the hermit cries,
“ To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder phantom only flies
To lure thee to thy doom. * Here to the houseless child of want My door is
open And though my portion is but scant,
I give it with good will.
“ Then turn to-night, and freely share
Whate'er my cell bestowsMy rushy couch, and frugal fare,
My blessing and repose. * No flocks that range the valley free
To slaughter I condemn : Taught by that Power that pities me,
I learn to pity them. • But from the mountain's grassy side
A guiltless feast I bring; A scrip with herbs and fruit supplied,
And water from the spring. " Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego;
For earth-born cares are wrong: Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long."
His gentle accents fell :
And follows to the cell.
Far in the wilderness obscure
The lonely mansion lay:
And stranger led astray.
No stores beneath its humble thatch
Requir'd a master's care ;
Receiv'd the harmless pair.
To revels or to rest,
And cheer'd his pensive guest ;
And gaily press’d and smil'd;
The lingering hours beguild.
Its tricks the kitten tries;
The crackling faggot flies.
To soothe the stranger's woe;
And tears began to flow.
With answering care oppress'd :
"The sorrows of thy breast ?
Reluctant dost thou rove;
Or unregarded love?
Are trifling, and decay;
More trifling still than they.
" And what is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to sleep;
But leaves the wretch to weep?
" 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,
And spurn the sex,” 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,
A wretch forlorn,” she cried ; " Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude, Where heaven and
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. “ My father liv'd beside the Tyne;
A wealthy lord was he; And all his wealth was mark'd for mine ;
He had but only me.
“ To win me from his tender arms,
Unnumber'd suitors came ;
And felt or feign'd a flame.
With richest presents strove: Among the rest, young Edwin bow'd,
But never talk'd of love.
“ In humblest, 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 dew 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 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 ;
In secret, where he died.
And well my life shall pay ;
And stretch me where he lay.
And there forlorn, despairing, bid.
I'll lay me down and die ;
And so for him will I."
And clasp'd her to his breast :
'Twas Edwin's self that press'd.
My charmer, turn to see
Restor'd to love and thee.
And every care resign:
never from this hour to part,
Shall break thy Edwin's too."
The lovely young Lavinia once had friends ; And fortune smild, deceitful, on her birth : For, in her helpless years, depriv'd of all, Of ev'ry stay, save innocence and heav'n, She, with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, poor,
liv'd in a cottage, far retir'd Among the windings of a woody vale; By solitude and deep surrounding shades, But more by bashful modesty, conceal'd, Together, thus, they shunnid the cruel scorn,