XXIII. The bashful look, the rising breast, The lovely stranger stands confest XXIV. "And ah! forgive a stranger rude, XXV. "But let a maid thy pity share, XXVI. "My father liv'd beside the Tyne, A wealthy lord was he; And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, He had but only me. XXVII. "To win me from his tender arms, XXVIII. "Each hour a mercenary crowd XXIX. "In humble simplest habit clad, XXX. "And when, beside me in the dale, His breath lent fragrance to the gale, XXXI. "The blossom opening to the day, XXXII. "The dew, the blossom on the tree, XXXIII. "For still I tried each fickle art, Importunate and vain; And while his passion touch'd my heart, I triumph'd in his pain : XXXIV. "Till quite dejected with my scorn, And sought a solitude forlorn, XXXV. "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, XXXVI. "And there forlorn, despairing, hid, XXXVII. "Forbid it, Heaven!" the Hermit cried, And clasp❜d her to his breast: The wondering fair one turn'd to chide'Twas Edwin's self that prest. XXXVIII. "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, XXXIX. "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, XL. "No, never from this hour to part, We'll live and love so true; The sigh that rends thy constant heart, Shall break thy Edwin's too." AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG.* 7 Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wondrous short, In Islington there was a man, A kind and gentle heart he had, And in that town a dog was found, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, This dog and man at first were friends; The dog, to gain some private ends, Went mad, and bit the man. *This, and the following poem, appeared in The Vicar of Wakefield, which was published in the year 1765. Around from all the neighbouring streets The wound it seem'd both sore and sad To every Christian eye; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, |