His rising cares the hermit spy'd, With answering care opprest: "And whence, unhappy youth," he cry'd; "The sorrows of thy breast? "From better habitations spurn'd, "Alas! the joys that fortune brings, "Are trifling, and decay; "And those who prize the paltry things, "More trifling still than they. "And what is friendship but a name, "A charm that lulls to sleep; "A shade that follows wealth or fame. "But leaves the wretch to weep? "And love is still an emptier sound, "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, "And spurn the sex," he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush. His love-lorn guest betray'd. Surpris'd, he sees new beauties rise The bashful look, the rising breast, And, "Ah, forgive a stranger rude, "But let a maid thy pity share, "Whom love has taught to stray; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair "Companion of her way. My father liv'd beside 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 suitors came; "Who prais'd me for imputed charms, And felt or feign'd a flame. 202 "Each hour a mercenary crowd "With richest proffers strove: Among the rest young Edwin bow'd, "In humble, simplest habit clad, "Nor wealth nor power had he; "Wisdom and worth were all he had, "But these were all to me. "The blossom opening to the day, "The dew, the blossom on the tree, "With charms inconstant shine; "Their charms were his, but, woe to me! "Their constancy was mine. "For still I try'd each fickle art, "Importunate and vain: “And while his passion touch'd my heart, "I triumph'd in his pain. "Till quite dejected with my scorn, "He left me to my pride; "And sought a solitude forlorn, "In secret, where he dy'd. "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, "And there forlorn despairing hid, "Forbid it, Heaven!" the hermit cry'd, "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, " 66 My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, "Restor'd to love and thee. "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, "No, never from this hour to part; The sigh that rends thy constant heart. "Shall break thy Edwin's too." EUPOLIS HYMN TO THE CREATOR. FROM THE GREEK. WESTLEY., , AUTHOR of Being, source of light, Grecian or Barbaric name, Thy stedfast being still the same. Thee, when morning greets the skies ་་།; And teach the world to praise and love. Yonder azure vault on high, Yonder blue, low, liquid sky, |