That warmed his agued limbs; and, sad to see,
hat shook him fiercely as he gazed on me.

I was confused in this unhappy view:
y wife! my friend! I could not think it true;
y children's mother, -my Alicia, laid
In such a bed: so wretched, so afraid!
nd her gay, young seducer, in the guise
f all we dread, abjure, defy, despise,
nd all the fear and terror in his look,

ill more my mind to its foundation shook.

At last he spoke ;-' Long since I would have died, But could not leave her, though for death I sighed, And tried the poisoned cup, and dropped it as I tried, She is a woman, and that famished thing Makes her to life, with all its evils, cling: Feed her, and let her breathe her last in peace, And all my sufferings with your promise cease!' hastly he smiled:-I knew not what I felt, ut my heart melted-hearts of flint would melt, o see their anguish, penury, and shame, How base, how low, how grovelling they became; could not speak my purpose, but my eyes, _nd my expression-bade the creature rise.

Yet, O! that woman's look! my words are vain

Her mixed and troubled feelings to explain;

rue there was shame and consciousness of fall,

ut yet remembrance of my love withal,

[recall.

_nd knowledge of that power which she would now

But still the more that she to memory brought,
The greater anguish in my mind was wrought;
The more she tried to bring the past in view,
She greater horror on the present threw:
So that for love or pity, terror thrilled
My blood, and vile and odious thoughts instilled.
This war within, those passions in their strife,
If thus protracted, had exhausted life;
But the strong view of these departed years,
Caused a full burst of salutary tears,
And as I wept at large, and thought alone,
I felt my reason reascend her throne."

:

Savage.

FROM THE WANDERER.

Soon to a yawning rift, chance turn'd my way; A den it prov'd where a huge serpent lay! Flame-ey'd he lay! - He rages now for food, Meets my first glance, and meditates my blood! His bulk in many a gather'd orb uproll'd, Rears spire on spire! His scales, bedropt with gold, Shine burnish'd in the sun! Such height they gain, They dart green lustre on the distant main! Now writh'd in dreadful slope, he stoops his crest, Furious to fix on my unshielded breast! Just as he springs, my sabre smites the foe! Headless he falls beneath th' unerring blow! Wrath yet remains, tho' strength his fabric leaves, And the meant hiss, the gasping mouth deceives; The length'ning trunk slow-loosens ev'ry fold, Lingers in life; then stretches stiff, and cold, Just as th' invet'rate son of mischief ends, Comes a white dove, and near the spot descends; I hail this omen! all bad passions cease, Like the slain snake, and all within is peace.