Here to the houseless child of want,

66

My door is open ftill;

"And tho' my portion is but fcant, "I give it with good will.

"Then turn to-night, and freely share
"Whate'er my cell beftows;
"My rushy couch and frugal fare,
"My bleffing and repofe.

“No flocks that range the valley free,
"To flaughter I condemn :
"Taught by that power that pities me,
"I learn to pity them:

"But from the mountain's graffy fide
"A guiltless feaft I bring;
"A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'd,
"And water from the spring.

"Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego;
“For earth-born cares are wrong:
"Man wants but little-here below,
"Nor wants that little long."

Soft as the dew from heav'n descends,
His gentle accents fell :
The modeft ftranger lowly bends,
And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obfcure
The lonely manfion lay;
A refuge to the neighbouring poor,
And ftranger's led astray.

No ftores beneath its humble thatch
Requir'd a malter's care;

The wicket op'ning with a latch,
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

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 ftore,
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 breaft?

"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 unfeen, or only found,
"To warm the turtle's nest.

"For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows hufh, "And fpurn the fex," he faid: But while he spoke, a rifing blush His love-lorn guest betray'd.

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

The bashful look, the rising breast,
Alternate spread alarms:
The lovely stranger ftands confeft
A maid in all her charms.

"And, ah, forgive a ftranger rude,
"A wretch forlorn," the cry'd;
"Whofe feet unhallow'd thus intrude
"Where heaven and you refide.

"But let a maid thy pity fhare,
"Whom love has taught to ftray;
"Who feeks for reft, but finds defpair
"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 richeft 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 these 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 blossoms of the tree, "With charms inconftant fhine;

i

"Their charms were his, but woe to me,

"Their conftancy was mine,

For ftill 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, despairing 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 clafp'd her to his breast: The wond'ring fair one turn'd to chide, 'Twas Edwin's self that prest.

"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 refign:

"And fhall we never, never part,

"My life

my all that's mine.

"No, never, from this hour to part, "We'll live and love fo true,

"The figh that rends thy conftant heart,

"Shan break thy Edwin's too.