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And what is friendship but a name,

A charm that lulls to sleep ;
A shade that follows wealth or fame,

But leaves the wretch to weep?

And love is still an emptier sound,

The modern fair one's jeft: . On earth unseen, or only found

To warm the turtle's nest.

For shame, fond youth; thy forrows hush,

And spurn the sex, he said :
But while he spoke, a rising blush

His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Surpriz'di he sees new beauties rise,

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

As bright, as transient too.

The bashful look, the rising breaft,

Alternate spread alarms :
The lovely stranger stands confest
A maid in all her charms.

D 2

And,

And, ah, 'forgive a stranger rude,

A wretch forlorn, the cry'd; Whose feet unhallowed thus intrude Where heaven and

you

reside.

But let a maid thy pity share,

Whom love has taught to ftray; Who seeks for reft, but finds despair

Companion of her way.

My Father liv'd beside the Tyne,

A wealthy Lord was he ; And all his wealth was mark'd for mine,

He had but only me.

To win me from his tender arms

Unnumber'd suitors came :
Who prais'd me for imputed charms,

And felt or feign'd a flame.

Each hour the mercenary crowd,

With richest presents Atrove : Among the rest young Edwin bow'd,

But never talk'd of love.

In humble fimplest habit clad,

No wealth nor power had he; Wisdom and worth were all he had,

But these were all to me.

The bloffom opening to the day,

The dews of heaven refin'd, Could nought of purity display,

To emulate his mind.

The dew, the blossom on the tree,

With charms inconftant shine; Their charms were his, but woe is me,

Their constancy was mine.

For ftill I try'd each fickle art,

Importunate and vain ; And while his passion 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 solitude forlorn, In secret where he died..

But mine the sorrow, mine the fault,
And well

my
life shall

pay; I'll seek the solitude he fought,

And stretch me where he lay.

And there forlorn, despairing, hid,

I'll lay me down and die ; 'Twas so for me that Edwin did,

And so for him will I.

Forbid it, Heaven ! the hermit cry'd,

And clasp'd her to his breast :
The wondering fair one turn’d to chide,

'Twas Edwin's self that prest.

Turn, ANGELINA, ever dear,

My charmer, turn to see,
Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here,

Restor'd to love and thee.

Thus let me hold thee to my heart,

And ev'ry care refign:
And shall we never, never part,

My life --my all that's mine?

No,

5

No, never from this hour to part,

We'll live and love so true;
The figh that rends thy constant heart,

Shall break thy Edwin's too.

GOLDSMITH.

OF

F Leinster fam'd for maidens fair,

Bright Lucy was the grace ;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream

Reflect a fairer face.

"Till luckless love and pining care

Impair'd her rofy hue,
Her coral lips, her damask cheeks,

And eyes of gloffy blue.

Oh ! have you seen the lily pale

When beating rains descend?
So droop'd this flow-consuming maid,

Her life now near its end,

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