No ftores beneath its humble thatch,
Requir'd a mafter's care!
The wicket opaing with a latch,
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

And now when bufy crowds retire
To take their evening reft,
The hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheer'd his penfive guest ;

And fpread his vegetable store,
And gayly preft, and smil'd,
And fkill'd in legendary lore,
The ling'ring hours beguil❜d.

Around in fympathetic mirth
Its tricks the kitten tries,
The cricket chirrups in the hearth;
The crackling faggot flies.

But nothing could a charm impart
To footh the ftranger's woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.

His rifing cares the hermit spy'd,

With anfw'ring care oppreft :

"And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd,

"The forrows of thy breaft?

"From

From better habitations fpurn'd, "Reluctant dost thou rove;

"Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, "Or unregarded love?

"Alas! the joys that fortune brings,

"Are trifling and decay;

"And those who prize the paltry things,
"More trifling ftill than they.

"And what is friendfhip but a name,
"A charm that lulls to fleep,
"A fhade that follows wealth or fame,
"But leaves the wretch to weep?

"And love is ftill an emptier found,
"The modern fair one's jeft,
"On earth unfeen, or only found
"To warm the turtle's neft.

"For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows hush,
"And spurn the fex," he said;
But, while he spoke, a rifing blush
His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Surpriz'd he fees new beauties rife
Swift mantling to the view,
Like colours o'er the morning fkies,

As bright, as tranfient too.

The bafhful look, the rifing breast,
Alternate fpread alarms,

The lovely ftranger ftands confest
A maid in all her charms.

"And, ah, forgive a ftranger rude,
"A wretch forlorn," fhe cry'd,
"Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude
"Where heav'n and you refide.

"But let a maid thy pity share,
"Whom love has taught to ftray:
"Who seeks for reft, but finds despair
"Companion of her way.

"My father liv'd befide the Tyne,
"A wealthy lord was he;

"And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, "He had but only me.

"To win me from his tender arms,

"Unnumber'd fuitors came;

"Who prais'd me for imputed charms, "And felt or feign'd a flame.

"Each hour a mercenary crowd

"With richeft proffers ftrove:

"Among the reft young Edwin bow'd, "But never talk'd of love.

In

"In humble, fimpleft habit clad,
"No wealth nor pow'r had he;
“ Wisdom and worth were all he had,
"But thefe were all to me.

"The bloffom op'ning to the day "The dews of heav'n refin'd, "Could nought of purity display, "To emulate his mind:

"The dew, the bloffom on the tree,
"With charms inconftant fhine;
"Their charms were his, but woe to me,
"Their conftancy was mine!

"For ftill I try'd each fickle art,

"Importunate and vain;

"And while his paffion touch'd my heart,

"I triumph'd in his pain.

"Till quite dejected with my scorn, "He left me to my pride;

"And fought a folitude forlorn, "In fecret, where he died.

"But mine the forrow, mine the fault,
"And well my life fhall pay,
I'll feck the folitude he fought,
"And fretch me where he lay.-

"And there forlorn, despairing, hid,
"I'll lay me down and die :
"'Twas fo for me that Edwin did,
"And fo for him will I. "

"Forbid it, heaven!" the hermit cry'd,
And clap'd her to his breaft:
The wond'ring fair-one turn'd to chide,
'I was Edwin's felf that preft.

"Turn, Angelina, ever dear,

66

My charmer, turn to fee,

"Thy own, thy long loft Edwin here,

"Reftor'd to love and thee!

“Thus let me hold thee to my heart, "And ev'ry care refign:"

"And fhall we never, never part,

66

My life, my all that's mine ?”

"No, never, from this hour to part,
"We'll live and love so true;

The figh that rends thy conftant heart,
Shall break thy Edwin's too,

ΤΟ