When the dew wets its leaves; unftain'd and pure, As is the lily, or the mountain fnow. The modeft virtues mingled in her eyes, PALEMON was, the generous, and the rich; By beauty kindled, where enlivening fenfe "And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell, "Should be devoted to the rude embrace "Of fome indecent clown! She looks, methinks, "Of old ACASTO's line; and to my mind "Recalls that patron of my happy life, "From whom my liberal fortune took its rife ; "Now to the duft gone down; his houses, lands, "And once fair-fpreading family, diffolv'd. ""Tis faid that in fome lone obfcure retreat, "Urg'd by remembrance fad, and decent pride, "Far from those scenes which knew their better days, "His aged widow and his daughter live, "Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. "Romantic wifh! would this the daughter were!" When, ftrict enquiring, from herself he found She was the fame, the daughter of his friend, Of bountiful ACASTO; who can speak The mingled paffions that furpriz'd his heart, And through his nerves in fhivering transport ran? Then blaz'd his fmother'd flame, avow'd, and bold; And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er, Love, gratitude, and pity, wept at once. Confus'd, and frighten'd at his fudden tears, Her rifing beauties flush'd a higher bloom, As thus PALEMON, paffionate and juft, Pour'd out the pious rapture of his foul. "And art thou then ACASTO's dear remains "She, whom my restless gratitude has fought, "So long in vain? O heavens! the very same, “The softened image of my noble friend, “Alive his every look, his every feature, "More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than Spring! "Thou fole furviving bloffom from the root "That nourish'd up my fortune! Say, ah where, "In what fequefter'd defert, haft thou drawn "The kindest aspect of delighted HEAVEN? "Into fuch beauty spread, and blown so fair; "Tho' poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, "Beat keen, and heavy, on thy tender years? "O let me now, into a richer foil, "Transplant thee safe! where vernal funs, and showers, "Diffuse their warmeft, largest influence; "And of my garden be the pride, and joy! "Ill it befits thee, oh it ill befits "ACASTO's daughter, his whofe open ftores, "Tho' vaft, were little to his ample heart, "The father of a country, thus to pick "The very refuse of those harvest-fields, "Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy. "Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, "But ill-apply'd to fuch a rugged task; "The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine; "If to the various bleffings which thy house "Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss, Nor wanted he reply. Won by the charm In fweet diforder lost, she blush'd confent. Amaz❜d, and scarce believing what she heard, |