Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn That fun which bids their diamond blaze, To deck our lily deigns. Long had the fir'd each youth with love, And tho' by all a wonder own'd, Yet knew not fhe was fair. 'Till EDWIN came, the pride of swains, A foul that knew no art, And from whofe eyes ferenely mild, I A mutual A mutual flame was quickly caught, Was quickly too reveal'd; For neither bofom lodg'd a wish What happy hours of heart-felt blifs But blifs too mighty long to laft, His fifter, who like envy form'd, To work them harm, with wicked skill To fnatch a glance, to mark the fspot Where EMMA walk'd and wept. Oft too in Stanemore's wintry waste, His cheeks, where love with beauty glow'd, So fades the fresh rose in its prime, Before the northern blast. The parents now, with late remorse, And weary'd Heav'n with fruitless pray❜rs, "Tis paft, he cry'd, but if your fouls Sweet mercy yet can move, Let these dim eyes once more behold She came; his cold hand foftly touch'd, But oh! his fifter's jealous care (A cruel fifter fhe!) Forbad what EMMA came to fay, My EDWIN, live for me. Now Now homeward as the hopeless went, The church-yard path along, The blaft blew cold, the dark owl scream'd Her lover's fun'ral song. Amid the falling gloom of night, Her ftartling fancy found In ev'ry bush his hovering shade, Alone, appall'd, thus had she pass'd The vifionary vale, When lo! the death-bell fmote her ear, Sad founding in the gale. Juft then she reach'd, with trembling steps, I feel, I feel this breaking heart Beat high against my side: From her white arm down funk her head, She shiver'd, figh'd, and died. "T CHA P. XVI. MALLET, CELADON AND AMELIA. 'IS listening fear and dumb amazement all : When to the startled eye the fadden glance Appears far fouth, eruptive thro' the cloud; And following flower, in explofion vaft, The Thunder raises his tremendous voice. At first, heard folemn o'er the verge of heaven, Enlarging, deep'ning, mangling; peal on peal Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought: Defcends the fated flash. Young CELADON They lov'd: but fuch their gulitless passion was, The 4 |