Not Thule's waves fo wildly break
To drown the northern fhore ;
Nor Etna's entrails fiercer fhake;
Or Scythia's tempefts roar.

As when on fummer's fweetest day,
To fan the fragrant morn.
The fighing breezes foftly stray
O'er fields of ripen'd corn;

Sudden the lightning's blaft defcends,
Deforms the ravag'd fields;
At once the various ruin blends,
And all refiftlefs yields.

But when, to clear his ftormy breast,
The fun of reafon fhone,

And ebbing paffions funk to reft,
And shew'd what rage had done.

then what anguish he betray'd!
His fhame how deep, how true!
He view'd the wafte his rage had made,
And fhudder'd at the view.

The meek-ey'd dawn, in faffron robe,
Proclaim'd the opening day.
Up rofe the fun to gild the globe,
And hail the new-born May;

The birds their vernal notes repeat,
And glad the thick'ning grove,
And feather'd partners fondly greet
With many a fong of love;

When pious ELDRED walk'd abroad
His morning vows to pay,
And hail the univerfal Lord
Who gave the goodly day.

That done-he left his woodland glade,
And journey'd far away:

He lov'd to court the ftranger shade,
And thro' the lone vale ftray.

Within the bofom of a wood,
By circling hills embrac'd,
A little, modeft manfion flood,
Built by the hand of taste.

While many a prouder caftle fell,
This fafely did endure;

The house where guardian virtues dwell
Is facred, and fecure.

Of Eglantine an humble fence

Around the manfion flood,

Which charm'd at once the ravish'd sense, And screen'd an infant wood.

The wood receiv'd an added grace,
As pleas'd it bent to look,
And view'd its ever verdant face
Reflected in a brook.

The fmallnefs of the ftream did well
The mafter's fortunes fhew;
But little ftreams may ferve to tell*
From what a fource they flow.

This manfion own'd an aged Knight,
And fuch a man was he,

As heaven juft fhews to human fight
To tell what man fhou'd be.

His youth in many a well fought field
Was train'd betimes to war;

His bofom like a well worn fhield,
Was grac'd with many a scar.

The vigour of a green old age
His reverend form did bear;
And yet, alas! the warrior fage
Had drain'd the dregs of care:

And forrow more than age can break,
And wound its hapless prey;
'Twas forrow furrow'd his firm cheek,
And turn'd his bright locks gray.

One darling daughter footh'd his cares,
and beauteous dame;
Sole comfort of his failing years,

A young

And BIRTHA was her name.

Her heart a little facred fhrine,
Where all the Virtues meet;
And holy Hope, and Faith divine,
Had claim'd it for their feat.

She rear'd a fair and fragrant bower

Of wild and ruftic tafte,

And there fhe fcreen'd each fav'rite flower From every ruder blast.

And not a fhrub or plant was there

But did fome moral yield;

For wifdom, by a father's care,

Was found in every field.

The trees whofe foliage fell away,
And with the fummer died,
He thought an image of decay
Might lecture human pride.

While fair, perennial greens that stood,
And brav'd the wintry blast,

As types of the fair mind he viewed
Which fhall for ever laft.

He taught her that the gaudieft flowers
Were feldom fragrant found,
But wafted foon their little powers,
Lay useless on the ground.

While the fweet-fcented rofe hall af,
And boaft its fragrant power,
When life's imperfect day is paft,
And beauty's fhorter hour.

And here the virgin lov'd to lead
Her inoffenfive day,

And here the oft retir'd to read,

And oft retir❜d to pray.

Embower'd fhe grac'd the woodland shades,

From courts and cities far,

The pride of Caledonian maids,

The peerlefs northern ftar.

As fhines that bright and blazing ftar,
The glory of the night,

When failing thro' the cloudlefs air,
She fheds her filver light.

SO BIRTHA fhone -But when she spoke
The Mufe herself was heard,

As on the ravish'd air fhe broke,
And thus her prayer preferr'd.

O blefs thy BIRTHA, Power Supreme, "In whom I live and move,

"And bless me moft by bleffing him "Whom more than life I love.".

She starts to hear a ftranger's voice,
And with a modest grace
She lifts her meek eye in furprize,
And fees a ftranger's face.

The ftranger loft in tranfport food,
Bereft of voice and pow'r,
While the with equal wonder view'd
SIR ELDRED OF THE BOWER.

The virgin blush which spreads her cheek, With Nature's pureft dye,

And all thofe dazling beams which break, Like morning from her eye.

He view'd them all, and as he view'd
Drank deeply of delight;
And ftill his raptur'd eye pursued,
And feafted on the fight.

With filent wonder long they gaz'd,
And neither filence broke;
At length the smoother'd paffion blaz❜d,
Enamour'd ELDRED spoke :

"O facred Virtue, heavenly power!

66

Thy wonderous force 1 feel;

"I gaze, I tremble, I adore,

"Yet die my love to tell.

"My fcorn has oft the dart repell'd

"Which guileful beauty threw, "But goodness heard, and grace beheld, "Muft every heart fubdue."