"Alas! the joys that fortune brings And those who prize the trifling things "And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep; "And love is still an emptier sound, On earth unseen, or only found "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. Surprised he sees new beauties rise, Swift mantling to the view; The bashful look, the rising breast, Alternate spread alarms: A maid in all her charms. "And, ah! forgive a stranger rude, “But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair 100 "The dew, the blossom on the tree, With charms inconstant shine; Their charms were his : but, woe to me, Their constancy was mine. "For still I tried each fickle art, 125 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, 130 135 "Forbid it, Heaven!" the Hermit cried, "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, And clasp'd her to his breast: 'T was Edwin's self that prest. My charmer, turn to see The wondering fair-one turn'd to chide,— 145 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, The sigh that rends thy constant heart GOLDSMITH. 155 Whose only wish on earth was now EDWIN AND EMMA. FAR in the windings of a vale, The safe retreat of Health and Peace, Beneath a mother's eye; To see her blest, and die. There beauteous Emma flourish'd fair, б Each maiden with despair; And though by all a wonder own'd, Yet knew not she was fair: Till Edwin came, the pride of swains, A soul devoid of art, And from whose eyes, serenely mild, A mutual flame was quickly caught; For neither bosom lodged a wish What happy hours of heart-felt bliss Did love on both bestow! But bliss too mighty long to last, 80 Long had he seen their secret flame, Denied her sight, he oft behind The spreading hawthorn crept, Oft, too, on Stanmore's wintry waste, Beneath the moonlight shade, In sighs to pour his soften'd soul, The midnight mourner stray'd. His cheek, where health with beauty glow'd, 50 55 |