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Here, beauteous Health! for all the year remain :
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again.
Oh come, thou Goddess of my rural fong!
And bring thy daughter, calm Content, along ;
Dame of the ruddy cheek and laughing eye,
From whose bright prefence clouds of forrow fly.
For her I mow my walks, I plat my bow'rs,
Clip my low hedges, and fupport my flow'rs;
To welcome her, this fummer-feat I drest,
And here I court her when fhe comes to reft;
When the from exercife to learned ease
Shall change again, and teach the change to please.
Now friends, converfing, my faft hours refine,
And Tully's Tufculum revives in mine:
Now to grave books I bid the mind retreat,
And fuch as make me rather good than great:
Or o'er the works of eafy Fancy rove,
Where flutes and innocence amuse the grove:
The native bard, that on Sicilian plains
Firft fung the lowly manners of the fwains;
Or Maro's Mufe, that in the faireft light
Paints rural profpects and the charms of fight;
Thefe foft amufements bring content along,
And fancy, void of forrow, turns to fong.
Here, beauteous Health! for all the year remain :
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again.

EDWIN AND ANGELINA.

A BALLAD.

BY DR. GOLDSMITH.

TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale,
"And guide my lonely way,

To where yon taper cheers the vale
With hofpitable ray.

"For here, forlorn and loft, I tread
"With fainting steps and flow,
"Where wilds, immeafurably fpread,
Seem length'ning as I go.”

«Forbear, my fon," the Hermit cries, To tempt the dangerous gloom;

"For yonder faithlefs phantom flies "To lure thee to thy door.

"Here, to the houfelefs child of want, "My door is open still ́; "And though my portion is but fcant, "I give it with good-will.

"Then turn to-night, and freely share "Whate'er my cell beftows ;..

"My rufhy couch and frugal fare,

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My bleffing and repofe.

"No flocks that range the valley free "To flaughter I condemn

"Taught by that Power that pities me, "I learn to pity them.

"But from the mountain's graffy fide "A guiltless feaft I bring; "A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'd, “And water from the fpring.

"Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; "All earth-born cares are wrong: "Man wants but little here below, "Nor wants that little long.'

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Soft as the dew from heaven defcends,
His gentle accents fell;
The modeft ftranger lowly bends,
And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obfcure
The lonely manfion lay,

A refuge to the neighbouring poor',
And ftrangers led aftray.

No ftores beneath its humble thatch
Requir'd a mafter's care;
The wicket, opening with a latch,
Receiv'd the harmless pair.

And now, when busy crowds retire
To take their evening reft,

The Hermit trinım'd his little fire,

And cheer'd his penfive gueft;

And fpread his vegetable ftore,

And gayly prefs'd and smil`d, And, fkill'd in legendary lore,

The ling'ring hours beguil'd.

Around, in fympathetic mirth,
Its tricks the kitten tries:
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,
The crackling faggot flies.

But nothing could a charm impart
To footh the stranger's woe;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.

His rifing cares the Hermit fpy'd,
With anfwering care oppreft:
"And whence, unhappy youth!" he cried,
"The forrows of thy breaft?

From better habitation spurn'd,
"Reluctant doft thou rove;

"Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,
"Or unregarded love?

"Alas! the joys that fortune brings, "Are trifling, and decay; "And those who prize the paltry things, "More trifling still than they.

"And what is friendship but a name, "A charm that lulls to fleep

"A fhade that follows wealth or fame, "But leaves the wretch to weep?

"And love is still an emptier found, "The modern fair one's jeft,

"On earth unfeen, or only found "To warm the turtle's nest.

"For fhame, fond youth, thy forrows hush,
"And fpurn the fex," he said:
But, while he spoke, a rifing blush
His love-lorn guest betray'd.

Surpriz'd, he fees new beauties rife
Swift mantling to the view,
Like colours o'er the morning skies,
As bright, as tranfient too.

The bashful look, the rifing breast,
Alternate spread alarms,
The lovely stranger stands confest,
A maid in all her charms.

"And ah! forgive a stranger rude,
"A wretch forlorn," the cried,
"Whofe feet, unhallow'd, thus intrude
"Where Heaven and you refide.

"But let a maid thy pity share,

"Whom love has taught to stray; "Who feeks for reft, but finds despair Companion of her way.

"My father liv'd befide the Tyne, "A wealthy lord was he;

"And all his wealth was mark'd as mine, "He had but only me.

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