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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 bestows My 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; And, skill'd in legendary lore,
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 : “And whence, unhappy youth,” he cried,
• The sorrows of thy breast ? “ From better habitation spurn'd,
Reluctant dost thou rove;
Or unregarded love?
Are trifling, and decay; And those who prize the paltry things,
More trifling still than they.
w 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:
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
“But let a maid thy pity share,
Whom love has taught to stray ;
Companion of her way.
A wealthy lord was he;
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 be: 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; And sought a solitude forlorn,
In secret, where he died. “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.
"And there forlorn, despairing, bid.
I'll lay me down and die ;
And so for him will I."
Forbid it, heaven," the hermit cried.
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.
“ Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And every care resign:
My life—my all that's mine?
We'll live and love so true;
Shall break thy Edwin's too.”
THE lovely young Lavinia once had friends ;. And fortune smiled, 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, And 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 shunn'd the cruel scorn,