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To win me from his tender arms
Unnumber'd fuitors came,
Their chief pretence my flatter'd charms, My wealth perhaps their aim.
Each hour the mercenary crowd
With glitt'ring proffers ftrove; Among the reft young Edwin bow'd, Who offer'd only love.
In humble fimpleft habit clad,
No wealth nor power had he;
Wisdom and worth were all he had,
Whene'er he spoke amidst the train,
And still delighted e'en to pain,
And when a little reft I fought
Yet ftill and hapless be the hour,
Till, quite dejeated with my fcorn,
He left me to deplore,
And fought a folitude forlorn,
And ne'er was heard of more.
Then fince he perish'd by my fault,
I'll feek the folitude he fought,
And there in fhelt'ring thicket hid,
'Twas thus for me my lover did,
And fo for him will I.
Thou shalt not thus, the hermit cried,
Th' aftonifh'd fair-one turn'd to chide;
For now no longer could he hide
His looks resume their youthful pride,
Turn, Angelina, ever dear,
My charmer, turn to fee
Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here,
Reflor'd to love and thee.
Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And every care refign,
And shall we never, never part,
My thou, my all that's mine.
No, never from this hour to part,
Our love fhall ftill be new,
And the laft figh that rends thy heart
Shall break thy Edwin's too.
Here amidft ftreams and bow'rs we'll rove,
To all that want, and all that wail,
Our pity fhall be given,
And when this life of love fhall fail,
We'll love it o'er in heav'n.
FABLE S. By Mr. Moore.
The NIGHTINGALE and GLOW-WORM.
HE prudent nymph, whofe cheeks difclofe
From public view her charms will screen,
This fimple truth fhall keep her wife,
One night a glow-worm, proud and vain,
So elegant, fo fine a creature.
- All other infects, that I fee,
The frugal ant, industrious bee,
Mean, vulgar herd! ye are my fcorn,
And kings on earth their gems admire,
Because they imitate my fire.
She spoke. Attentive on a spray,
Know, 'tis thy beauty brings thy fate:
Pride, foon or late, degraded mourns,
HYMEN and DEATH.
Ixteen, dy'e fay ? nay then 'tis time,
But flay-the fettlement! "That's made."
Yet hold a moment, if you can,
The fhades were fled, the morning blufh'd,
The winds were in their caverns hush'd