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Even such a Man (inheriting the zeal
And from the sanctity of elder times
Not deviating,-a priest, the like of whom
If multiplied, and in their stations set,
Would o’er the bosom of a joyful land
Spread true religion and her genuine fruits)
Before me stood that day; on holy ground
Fraught with the relics of mortality,
Exalting tender themes, by just degrees
To lofty raised; and to the highest, last;
The head and mighty paramount of truths,
Immortal life, in never-fading worlds,
For mortal creatures, conquered and secured.

That basis laid, those principles of faith
Announced, as a preparatory act
Of reverence done to the spirit of the place,
The Pastor cast his eyes upon the ground;
Not, as before, like one oppressed with awe
But with a mild and social cheerfulness;
Then to the Solitary turned, and spake.

« At morn or eve,


retired domain,
Perchance you not unfrequently have marked
A Visitor-in quest of herbs and flowers;
Too delicate employ, as would appear,
For one, who, though of drooping mien, had yet
From nature's kindliness received a frame
Robust as ever rural labour bred.”


The Solitary answered: “Such a Form Full well I recollect. We often crossed Each other's path ; but, as the Intruder seemed

Fondly to prize the silence which he kept,
And I as willingly did cherish mine,
We met, and passed, like shadows. I have heard,
From my good Host, that being crazed in brain
By unrequited love, he scaled the rocks,
Dived into caves, and pierced the matted woods,
In hope to find some virtuous herb of power
To cure his malady!”

The Vicar smiled,
" Alas! before to-morrow's sun goes down
His habitation will be here : for him
That open grave is destined.”

“ Died he then Of pain and grief?” the Solitary asked, “Do not believe it; never could that be!"

“He loved," the Vicar answered," deeply loved, Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and dared At length to tell his love, but sued in vain; Rejected, yea repelled; and, if with scorn Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but A high-prized plume which female Beauty wears In wantonness of conquest, or puts on To cheat the world, or from herself to hide Humiliation, when no longer free. That he could brook, and glory in ;—but when The tidings came that she whom he had wooed Was wedded to another, and his heart Was forced to rend away its only hope; Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth An object worthier of regard than he, In the transition of that bitter hour! Lost was she, lost; nor could the Sufferer say

That in the act of preference he had been
Unjustly dealt with ; but the Maid was gone!
Had vanished from his prospects and desires;
Not by translation to the heavenly choir
Who have put off their mortal spoils—ah no!
She lives another's wishes to complete,
'Joy be their lot, and happiness,' he cried,
His lot and hers, as misery must be mine!'

* Such was that strong concussion; but the Man, Who trembled, trunk and limbs, like some huge oak By a fierce tempest shaken, soon resumed The stedfast quiet natural to a mind Of composition gentle and sedate, And, in its movements, circumspect and slow. To books, and to the long-forsaken desk, O’er which enchained by science he had loved To bend, he stoutly re-addressed himself, Resolved to quell his pain, and search for truth With keener appetite (if that might be) And closer industry. Of what ensued Within the heart no outward sign appeared Till a betraying sickliness was seen To tinge bis cheek; and through his frame it crept With slow mutation unconcealable ; Such universal change as autumn makes In the fair body of a leafy grove, Discoloured, then divested.

'Tis affirmed By poets skilled in nature's secret ways That Love will not submit to be controlled By mastery :—and the good Man lacked not friends Who strove to instil this truth into his mind,

A mind in all heart-mysteries unversed. 'Go to the hills,' said one, remit a while * This baneful diligence :-at early morn • Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods ; * And, leaving it to others to foretell, • By calculations sage, the ebb and flow

Of tides, and when the moon will be eclipsed, 'Do you, for your own benefit, construct A calendar of flowers, plucked as they blow Where health abides, and cheerfulness, and peace.' The attempt was made ;—’tis needless to report How hopelessly; but innocence is.strong, And an entire simplicity of mind A thing most sacred in the eye of Heaven; That opens, for such sufferers, relief Within the soul, fountains of grace divine; And doth commend their weakness and disease To Nature's care, assisted in her office By all the elements that round her wait To generate, to preserve, and to restore ; And by her beautiful array

of forms Shedding sweet influence from above; or pure Delight exhaling from the ground they tread.”

"Impute it not to impatience, if,” exclaimed The Wanderer, “I infer that he was healed By perseverance in the course prescribed.”

“ You do not err: the powers, that had been lost By slow degrees, were gradually regained ; The fluttering nerves composed; the beating heart In rest established ; and the jarring thoughts To harmony restored.-But yon dark mould

Will cover him, in the fulness of his strength,
Hastily smitten by a fever's force;
Yet not with stroke so sudden as refused
Time to look back with tenderness on her
Whom he had loved in passion; and to send
Some farewell words—with


one, request;
That, from his dying hand, she would accept
Of his possessions that which most he prized;
A book, upon whose leaves some chosen plants,
By his own hand disposed with nicest care,
In undecaying beauty were preserved ;
Mute register, to him, of time and place,
And various fluctuations in the breast;
To her, a monument of faithful love
Conquered, and in tranquillity retained!

Close to his destined habitation, lies One who achieved a humbler victory, Though marvellous in its kind. A place there is High in these mountains, that allured a band Of keen adventurers to unite their pains In search of precious ore: they tried, were foiledAnd all desisted, all, save him alone. He, taking counsel of his own clear thoughts, And trusting only to his own weak hands, Urged unremittingly the stubborn work, Unseconded, uncountenanced ; then, as time Passed on, while still his lonely efforts found No recompense, derided; and at length, By many pitied, as insane of mind; By others dreaded as the luckless thrall Of subterranean Spirits feeding hope By various mockery of sight and sound;


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