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, "For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush, Surpris'd he sees new beauties rise, The bashful look, the rising breast, And, ah! forgive stranger rude, "A wretch forlorn," she cry'd; "Whose feet unhallow'd thus intrude "Where heav'n and you reside. "Who seeks for rest, but finds despair My father liv'd beside the Tyne, "And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, "To win me from his tender arms, "Unnumber'd suitors came; "Who prais'd me for imputed charms, t “Each hour a mercenary crowd "With richest proffers strove ; "Amongst the rest young Edwin bow'd, "But never talk'd of love. "In humble, simplest habit clad, "No wealth nor power had he, "And when, beside me in the dale, "His breath lent fragrance to the gale, * This stanza, never before printed, was commu icated by Richard Archdal, esq. who received it rom the author himself. "The blossom opening to the day, "The dew, the blossom on the tree, "With charms inconstant shine; "Their charms were his, but woe to me, "Their constancy was mine. For still I try'd each fickle art, "And while his passion touch'd my heart. "I triumph'd in his pain. ་ Till quite rejected with my scorn, "He left me to my pride; "And sought a solitude forlorn, "In secret where he dy❜d. "But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, "And, there forlorn, despairing hid, "Forbid it heav'n!" the hermit cry'd. And clasp'd her to his breast: 65 The wond'ring fair-one turn'd to chide,... 'Twas Edwin's self that prest. “Turn, Angelina, ever dear, 66 My charmer turn to see "Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, "Restor❜d to love and thee. "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And ev'ry care resign: "And shall we never, never part, 66 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, SURE 'twas by Providence design'd F2 AN ELEGY ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX, Mrs. Mary Blaize. GOOD people all, with one accord, The needy seldom pass'd her door, She strove the neighbourhood to please, With manners wond'rous winning; And never follow'd wicked ways,.... Unless when she was sinning, At church, in silks and satins new, Her love was sought, I do aver, |