THE HERMIT.

XXXII.

"The dew, the blossom on the tree,
With charms inconstant shine;
Their charms were his, but woe to me!
Their constancy was mine.

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,
He left me to my pride; (1)
And sought a solitude forlorn,
In secret, where he dy❜d.(2)

"And when a little rest I sought,
In Sleep's refreshing arms,
How have I mended what he taught,
And lent him fancied charms!

"Yet still (and woe betide the hour!)

I spurn'd him from my side,

And still with ill-dissembled power,

Repaid his love with pride."-First edit.]

(1) ["Till quite dejected with my scorn,
He left me to deplore;

And sought a solitude forlorn,
And ne'er was heard of more.

"Then since he perish'd by my fault,
This pilgrimage I pay," &c.-Ibid.]

(2) [Imit." And grew so coy and nice to please,
As women's looks are often soe,

He might not kisse, nor hand forsooth,
Unlesse I willed him soe to do.

"Thus being wearyed with delayes,

To see I pittyed not his greeffe,

He gott him to a secret place,

And there he dyed without releeffe."-Gentle Herdsman. J

"Forbid it Heaven!" the Hermit cry'd, And clasp'd her to his breast:

The wond'ring fair one turn'd to chide,'Twas Edwin's self that prest.

(1) [Imit." And for his sake these weeds I weare,
And sacrifice my tender age;

And every day Ile beg my bread,
To undergoe this pilgrimage.

"Thus every day I fast and pray,

And ever will doe till I dye;

And gett me to some secret place,

For so did he, and soe will I."-Gentle Herdsman.]

XXXVIII.

"Turn, Angelina, ever dear,
My charmer, turn to see

Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,
Restor'd to love and thee.

XXXIX.

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

And shall we never, never part,

My life, my all that's mine?

XL.

"No, never, from this hour to part,
We'll live and love so true; (1)
The sigh that rends thy constant heart,
Shall break thy Edwin's too." (2)

(1) ["No, never, from this hour to part,
Our love shall still be new;

And the last sigh that rends the heart,

Shall break thy Edwin's too."-First edit.

(2) [Here followed in the original draught:

"Here amidst sylvan bowers we'll rove,

From lawn to woodland stray;

Blest as the songsters of the grove,

And innocent as they.

"To all that want, and all that wail,

Our pity shall be given,

And when this life of love shall fail,

We'll love again in heaven."]

THE

DESERTED VILLAGE.

A

POEM.