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THE HER MIT

OF WARKWORTH.

THE

HERMIT OF WARKWORTH,

BY THE REV. DR. PERCY.

PART I,

DARK

was the night, and wild the storm, And loud the torrent's roar; And loud the sea was heard to dash

Against the distant fhore.

Musing on man's weak bapless state

The lonely Hermit lay;
When, lo! he heard a female voice

Lament in sore dismay.

With hospitable haste he rose,

And, wak’d his sleeping fire; And, snatching up a lighted brand,

Forth hied the reverend fire.

All fad beneath a neighbouring tree.

A beauteous maid he found, Who beat her breast, and with her tears

Bedew'd the moffy ground.

O weep not, lady, weep not so,

Nor let vain fears alarm;
My little cell shall shelter thee,

And keep thee safe from harm.

It is not for myself I weep,

Nor for myself I fear;
But for my dear and only friend,

Who lately left me here:

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