And now when bufy crowds retire
To take their evening reft,
The hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheer'd his penfive guest;

And fpread his vegetable flore,
And gayly preft, and fmil'd;
And skill'd in legendary lore,
The ling'ring hour beguil❜d.

Around in fympathetic mirth

Its tricks the kitten tries;
The cricket chirups in the hearth;
The crackling faggot flies.

But nothing could a charm impart
To footh the ftranger's woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.

His rifing cares the hermit fpy'd, With anfw'ring care oppreft: "And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd, "The forrows of thy breast?

"From better habitations spurn'd,
"Reluctant doft thou rove:
"Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,
"Or unregarded love?

"Alas the joys that fortune brings, "Are trifling and decay; "And thofe who prize the paltry things, "More trifling ftill than they.

"And what is friendship but a name,
"A charm that lulls to fleep;
"A fhade that follows wealth or fame,
"And leaves the wretch to weep?

"And love is ftill an emptier found,
“The modern fair one's jeft:
"On earth unseen, or only found,
“To warm the turtle's neft.

"For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows hufh, “ And spurn the sex,” he said : But while he spoke, a rifing blush His love-lora guest betray'd.

Surpriz'd he fees new beauties rise,
Swift mantling to the view;
Like colours o'er the morning fkies,
As bright, as tranfient too.

The bafhful look, the rifing breast,
Alternate fpread alarms :
The lovely ftranger ftands confeft
A maid in all her charms.

❝ And, ah, forgive a stranger rude,
"A wretch forlorn," she cry'd ;
"Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude
"Where heaven and
you refide.

"But let a maid thy pity share,
"Whom love has taught to ftray;
"Who feeks for reft, but finds despair
Companion of her way.

"My father liv'd befide the Tyne, "A wealthy lord was he;

"And all his wealth was mark’d as mine, "He had but only me.

"To win me from his tender arms,
"Unnumber'd fuitors came ;
Who prais'd me for imputed charms,
"And felt, or feign'd a flame.

"Each hour a mercenary crowd
"With richest proffers ftrove;
"Among the reft young Edwin bow'd,
"But never talk'd of love.

"In humble, fimpleft habit clad,
"No wealth or pow'r had he;
"Wisdom and worth were all he had,
"But thefe were all to me.

"The bloffom op'ning to the day,
"The dews of heav'n refin'd,
"Could nought of purity difplay,
"To emulate his mind.

"The dew, the bloffoms of the tree, "With charms inconftant fhine; "Their charms were his, but woe to me, "Their conftancy was mine.

"For still I try'd each fickle art, "Importunate and vain ;

"And while his paffion touch'd my heart, "I triumph'd in his pain.

""Till quite dejected with my fcorn,
"He left me to my pride;
"And fought a folitude forlorn,
"In fecret, where he dy❜d.

"But mine the forrow, mine the fault,
"And well my life fhall pay ;
"I'll feek the folitude he fought,
"And ftretch me where he lay.

"And there, forlorn, defpairing hid,
"I'll lay me down and die !
""Twas fo for me that Edwin did,
"And fo for him will I."

"Forbid it, Heav'n !" 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 preft.

"Turn, Angelina, ever dear,
"My charmer, turn to fee
"Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here,
"Reftor'd to love and thee.

"Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
"And ev'ry care resign :
"And fhall we never, never part,
my all that's mine.

"My life

"No, never, from this hour to part,
"We'll live and love so true,
"The figh that rends thy conftant heart,
"Shan break thy Edwin's too.

Or by the lazy Scheld, or wandering Po;
Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor,
Againft the houseless ftranger fhuts the door;
Or where Campania's plain forfaken lies,
A weary wafte expanding to the skies;
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to fee,
My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee:
Still to my
brother turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.

In this poem feveral alterations were made, and fome new verfes added, as it passed through different editions.-We have printed it from the ninth, which was the laft edition published in the lifetime of the author.