"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,
Restored to love and thee.

"Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And ev'ry care resign;

And shall we never, never part,
My life my all that's mine?

"No, never from this hour to part,
We'll live and love so true;

The sigh that rends thy constant heart
Shall break thy Edwin's too."

THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL.

Ye zephyrs gay, that fan the air, And wanton through the grove, Oh! whisper to my charming fair, I die for her I love.

How happy will the shepherd be, Who calls this nymph his own! Oh! may her choice be fix'd on me, Mine's fix'd on her alone.