"Forbid it, Heav'n!" the Hermit cried, 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-lost Edwin here, "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And shall we never, never part, "No, never from this hour to part, The sigh that rends thy constant heart |