No ftores beneath its humble thatch

Requir'd a master's care;

The wicket, opening 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,

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But nothing could a charm impart

To footh the stranger'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?

бо

"From better habitations spurn'd, "Reluctant doft thou rove;

"Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,

"Or unregarded love?

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And love is ftill an emptier found, "The modern fair one's jeft,

"On earth unfeen, or only found

"To warm the turtle's neft.

"For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows hush,

But, while he spoke, a rifing blush
His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Surpriz'd he fees new beauties rise,

Swift mantling to the view;
Like colours o'er the morning skies,

As bright, as tranfient too.

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The bashful look, the rifing breast,
Alternate fpread alarms,

The lovely ftranger ftands confeft

A maid in all her charms.

"And, ah, forgive a ftranger rude, "A wretch forlorn," she cry'd,

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"Whose feet unhallowed thus intrude

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"Where heaven and you refide.

"But let a maid thy pity fhare,

"Whom love has taught to ftray;

"Who feeks for rest, 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.

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"To win me from his tender arms,

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"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.

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"The dews of heaven refin'd,

"Could nought of purity display

"To emulate his mind.

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"The dew, the bloffom on the tree,

"With charms inconftant fhine;

"Their charms were his, but, woe to me,

"Their conftancy was mine.

For fill I try'd each fickle art,

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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 died.

But mine the forrow, mine the fault,

my

life shall pay;

" And well
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, heaven!" the hermit cry'd,

And clafp'd her to his breast :

The wondering fair one turn'd to chide,

'Twas Edwin's felf that prest.

"Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here,

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"Reftor'd to love and thee.

"Thus let me hold thee to my heart,

"And ev'ry care resign:

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"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,

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"Shall break thy Edwin's too."