Слике страница
PDF
ePub

FAR

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

The fafe retreat of Health and Peace,
An humble cottage stood.

There beauteous Emma flourish'd fair,
Beneath a mother's eye;
Whofe 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' heaven
When May's fweet mornings break.

Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn
This charmer of the plains:
That fun who bids their diamond blaze,
To paint our lilly deigns.

Long had the fill'd each yonth with love,
Each maiden with despair;

And tho' by all a wonder own'd,
Yet knew not fle was fair.

Till Edwin came, the pride of fwains,
A foul that knew no art;
And from whofe eye, ferenely mild,
Shone forth the feeling heart.

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

What happy hours of home-felt bliss
Did love on both beftow!
But blifs too mighty long to laft,
Where fortune proves a foe.

His fifter, who, like Envy form'd,
Like her in mifchief joy'd,
To work them harm, with wicked skill,
Each darker art employ'd.

The father too, a fordid man,
Who love nor pity knew,
Was all-unfeeling as the clod,
From whence his riches grew.

Long had he feen their fecret flame,
And feen it long unmov'd:
Then with a father's frown at laft
Had fternly disapprov❜d.

In Edwin's gentle heart, a war
Of different paffions strove:
His heart, that durft not difobey,
Yet could not ceafe to love.

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

Oft too on Stanemore's wintry wale,
Beneath the moonlight-fhade,
In fighs to pour his foften'd fou!,
The midnight-mourner ftray'd.

His cheek, where health with beauty glow'd, A deadly pale o'ercast :

So fades the fresh rofe in its prime,

Before the northern blast.

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

And weary'd heaven with fruitless vows,
And fruitlefs forrow shed.

"Tis paft! he cry'd-but if your fouls
Sweet mercy yet can move,
Let thefe dim eyes once more behold,
What they must 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 fister's jealous care

A cruel fifter fhe!

Forbade what Emma came to say ; "My Edwin live for me."

Now homeward as fhe hopeless wept
The church-yard path along,

The blaft blew cold, the dark owl fcream'd
Her lover's funeral fong.

Amid the falling gloom of night,

Her ftartling fancy found

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

Alone, appal'd, thus had the paft
The vifionary vale-

When lo! the death-bell fmote her ear,
Sad-founding in the gale!

Juft then fhe reach'd, with trembling step,
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 fide-

From her white arm down funk her head;
She fhivering figh'd, and died.

THE

HER MIT.

A

B A L L A D.

BY DR. GOLDSMITH.

"TURN

URN, gentle hermit of the dale,
"And guide my lonely way,

"To where yon taper cheers the vale,
"With hospitable ray.

"For here forlorn and loft I tread,

"With fainting steps and flow; "Where wilds immeafurably fpread, "Seem lengthening as I go."

"Forbear my fon," the hermit cries, "To tempt the dang'rous gloom; "For yonder faithlefs phantom flies "To lure thee to thy doom.

P

« ПретходнаНастави »