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And, ah, forgive a stranger rude,

A wretch forlorn,' she cried; Whose feet unhallowed thus intrude

Where heaven and you reside!

But let a maid thy pity share,

Whom love has taught to stray ; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair

Companion of her way.

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My father lived beside the Tyne,

A wealthy lord was he; And all his wealth was marked as mine,

He had but only me.

To win me from his tender arms,

Unnumbered suitors came ; Who praised me for imputed charms,

And felt, or feigned a flame.

Each hour a mercenary crowd

With richest proffers strove : Among the rest young Edwin bowed,

But never talked of love.

'In humble, simplest habit clad,

No wealth or power had he: Wisdom and worth were all he had. But these were all to me,


• The blossom opening to the day,

The dews of heaven refined, Could nought of purity display,

To emulate his mind.

The dew, the blossoms of the tree,

With charms inconstant shine ; Their charms were his, but, wo to me!

Their constancy was mine.

For still I tried each fickle art,

Importunate and vain; And while his passion touched my heart,

I triumphed in his pain:

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Till, quite dejected with my scoro,

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,

And stretch me where he lay.

And there forlorn despairing hid,

I'll lay me down and die : 'Twas so for me that Edwin did,

And so for him will l.'

Forbid it, heaven!' the Hermit cried,

And clasped her to his breast;
The wondering fair one turned to chide :

'Twas Edwin's self that prest.

• Turn, Angelina, ever dear,

My charmer, turn to see
Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,

Restored to love and thee.

Thus let me hold thee to my heart,

And every care resign. And shall we never, never part,

My lifemy all that's mine?

No, never, from this hour to part;

We'll live and love so true,
The sigh that rends thy constant heart,

Shall break tby Edwin's too.'


OF old, when Scarron his companions invited,
Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united :

* First printed in 1774, after the author's death. Dr. Gold, smith, and some of his friends occasionally dired at St. James's Coffee-house. One day it was proposed to write epitaphs on him His country, dialect, and person, furnished subjects of witticism He was called on for retaliation, and at their next meeting produced the following poem.

dish :

If our *landlord supplies us with beef and with fish,
Let each guest bring himself, and he brings the best

Our Dean shall be venison, just fresh from the
Our [Burke shall be tongue with a garnish of brains ;
Our S Will shall be wild fowl, of excellent flavour,
And ||Dick with his pepper shall heighten their sa-

Our Cumberland's sweet-bread its place shall ob-
And ** Douglas is pudding, substantial and plain :
Our ttGarrick's a salad; for in him we see
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saliness agree.
To make out the dinner, full certain I am,
That ftRidge is anchovy, and fŚReynolds is lamb;

vour :


* The master of the St. James's Coffee-house, where the Doctor, and the friends he has characterised in this

poem, occasionally dined. † Doctor Bernard, dean of Derry, in Ireland.

Mr. Edmund Burke. s Mr. William Burke, late secretary to general Conway, and member for Bedwin.

|| Mr. Richard Burke, collector for Grenada.

1 Mr. Richard Cumberland, author of the West Indian, Fashiopable Lover, the Brothers, and other dramatic pieces.

** Doctor Douglas, canon of Windsor, an ingenious Scotch gentleman, who has no less distinguished himself as a citizen of the world, than a sound critic, in detecting several literary mistakes (or rather forgeries) of his countrymen; particularly Lauder on Milton, and Bower's History of the Popes.

1 David Garrick, esq.

# Counsellor John Ridge, a gentleman beonging to the Irish bar.

SS Sir Joshua Reynolds.

'That *Hickey's a capon; and, by the same rule,
Magnanimous Goldsmith, a gooseberry fool.
At a dinner so various, at such a repast,
Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last ?
Here, waiter, more wine: let me sit while I'm able,
Till all my companions sink under the table;
Then, with chaos and blonders encircling my head,
Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead.

Here lies the good fdean, re-united to earth,
Who mixed reason with pleasure, and wisdom with
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt; [mirth,
At least, in six weeks, I could not find 'em out;
Yet some have declared, and it can't be denied 'em,
That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em.
Here lies our good #Edmund, whose genius was

such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his

throat, To persuade gTommy Townshend to lend him a vote; Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of


* An eminent attorney. | Vide page 68. # Vide


68. Mr. T. Townshend, member for,Whiteburch.

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