Here, beauteous Health! for all the year remain : EDWIN AND ANGELINA. A BALLAD. BY DR. GOLDSMITH. TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, To where yon taper cheers the vale "For here, forlorn and loft, I tread «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, 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.' Soft as the dew from heaven defcends, Far in a wilderness obfcure A refuge to the neighbouring poor', No ftores beneath its humble thatch And now, when busy crowds retire 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, But nothing could a charm impart His rifing cares the Hermit fpy'd, From better habitation spurn'd, "Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd, "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, Surpriz'd, he fees new beauties rife The bashful look, the rifing breast, "And ah! forgive a stranger rude, "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. B |