And what is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to fleep;
A fhade that follows wealth or fame,
But leaves the wretch to weep?

And love is still an emptier found,
The modern fair one's jeft: .
On earth unseen, or only found
To warm the turtle's neft.

For fhame, fond youth; thy forrows hush,
And fpurn the fex, he said:
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 rifing breast,
Alternate spread alarms :

The lovely stranger stands confest

A maid in all her charms.

And, ah, forgive a ftranger rude,
A wretch forlorn, the cry'd;

Whose feet unhallowed 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 for 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 the mercenary crowd,
With richest presents strove:

Among the reft young EDWIN bow'd,
But never talk'd of love.

In humble fimpleft 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 bloffom on the tree,

With charms inconstant shine;
Their charms were his, but woe is 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 died..

But mine the forrow, mine the fault,
And well my life shall pay ;
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 breaft:
The wondering fair one turn'd to chide,
'Twas EDWIN's self that preft.

Turn, ANGELINA, ever dear,

My charmer, turn to see,

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,

No, never from this hour to part,

We'll live and love so true;

The figh that rends thy conftant heart,

Shall break thy EDWIN's too.

GOLDSMITH.

OF

F Leinfter fam'd for maidens fair, Bright Lucy was the grace; Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid ftream 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 feen the lily pale

When beating rains defcend?

So droop'd this flow-consuming maid,

Her life now near its end.