F

AR in the windings of a vale,
Faft by a sheltering wood,

The fafe retreat of health and peace,
An humble cottage ftood.

There beauteous EMMA flourish'd fair

Beneath a mother's eye,

Whose only wish on earth was now
To fee her bleft, and die.

The fofteft blush that nature spreads
Gave colour to her cheek;

Such orient colour fmiles thro' heav'n
When May's fweet mornings break.

Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn
This charmer of the plains ;'

That fun which bids their diamond blaze,

To deck our lily deigns.

Long had the fir'd each youth with love,

Each maiden with despair;

And tho' by all a wonder own'd,

Yet knew not she was fair.

Till EDWIN came, the pride of swains,
A foul that knew no art,

And from whofe eyes ferenely mild,
Shone forth the feeling heart.

A mutual flame was quickly caught,
Was quickly too reveal'd;
For neither bofom lodg'd a wish,
Which virtue keeps conceal'd.

What happy hours of heartfelt bliss,
Did love on both bestow!

But blifs too mighty long to laft,
Where fortune proves a foe.

His fifter, who like envy form'd,
Like her in mischief joy'd,

To work them harm, with wicked skill

Each darker art employ'd.

The

The father too, a fordid man,
Who love nor pity knew,

Was all unfeeling as the rock

From whence his riches

grew.

Long had he seen their mutual flame,
And feen it long unmov'd;
Then with a father's frown at last,
He fternly disapprov’d.

In EDWIN's gentle heart a war
Of differing paffions ftrove;
His heart which durft not disobey,
Yet could not cease to love.

Deny'd her fight, he oft behind,
The spreading hawthorn crept,
To snatch a glance, to mark the spot
Where EMMA walk'd and wept.

Oft too in Stanemore's wintry waste,
Beneath the moonlight fhade,

In fighs to pour his foften❜d foul
The midnight mourner stray'd.

His cheeks, where love with beauty glow'd,

A deadly pale o’ercast ;

So fades the freth rofe in its prime,

Before the northern blaft.

The parents now, with late remorfe,
Hung o'er his dying bed,

And weary'd heav'n with fruitless pray'rs,
And fruitlefs forrows fhed.

'Tis paft, he cry'd, but, if your fouls

Sweet mercy yet can move,
Let thefe dim eyes once more behold
What they muft ever love.

She came; his cold hand foftly touch'd,
And bath'd with many a tear ;
Faft falling o'er the primrose pale
So morning dews appear.

But oh! his fifter's jealous care

(A cruel fifter she !)

Forbad what EMMA came to fay

My EDWIN, live for me.

Now

Now homeward as fhe hopelefs went,
The church-yard path along,

The blaft blew cold, the dark owl scream'd,
Her lover's fun'ral fong.

Amid the falling gloom of night,
Her ftartling fancy found

In every bush his hovering fhade,
His groan in every found.

Alone, appall'd, thus had she pass'd

The vifionary vale,

When lo! the death-bell fmote her ear,

Sad founding in the gale.

Just then she reach'd, with trembling steps,

Her aged mother's door;

He's gone, fhe cry'd, and I fhall fee

That angel face no more.

I feel, I feel this breaking heart

Beat high against my side:

From her white arm down funk her head,

She shiver'd, figh'd, and died.