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• But let a maid thy pity share,

• Whom love has taught to ftray ; • Who seeks for reft, but finds despair

• Companion of her way.

• My father liv'd beside the Tyne,

! A wealthy lord was he ; • And all his wealth was mark'd as mine ;

• He had but only me.

" To win me from his tender arms

: Unnumber'd suitors came ; • Who prais'd me for imputed charms,

• And felt, or feign'd a flame.

• Each hour a mercenary crowd

• With richest proffers frove ; • Among the rest young Edwin bow'd,

• But never talk'd of love.

• In humble, simplest habit clad,

: No wealth or power had he; • Wisdom and worth were all he had,

? But these were all to me.

• The blossom opening to the day,

« The dews of heaven refin'd, : Could nought of purity display

• To emulate his mind.

« The dew, the blossoms of the tree,

6' With charms inconstant shine : « Their charms were his ; but, woe to me!

Their constancy was mine.

For

• For ftill I try'd each fickle art,

* Importunate and vain ; • And while his pallion touch'd my heart,

• I triumph'd in his pain :

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• No, never from this hour to part;.

« We'll live and love fo true, • The figh that ronds thy constant heart

• Shall break thy Edwin's too!'

THE ENTHUSIAST.

AN

ODE.

BY WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, ES

O

NCE, I remember well the day,

'Twas ere the blooming sweets of May
Had lost their freshest hues ;
When every flower on every hill,
In every vale, had drank it's fill

Of sunshine and of dews.

In short, 'twas that sweet season's prime,
When Spring gives up the reins of Time

To Summer's glowing hand,
And doubting mortals hardly know
By whose command the breezes blow

Which fan the smiling land.

'Twas then, beside a green-wood fhade,
Which cloath'd a lawn's aspiring head,

I urg'd my devious way,
With loit'ring steps, regardless where,
So foft, so genial was the air,

So wond'rous.bright the day,

And now my eyes with transport rove
O’er all the blue expanse above,

Unbroken by a cloud!

And

And now beneath delighted pass,
Where winding thro' the deep-green grafs

A full-brimm'd river flow'd.

I ftop, I gaze ; in accents rude,
To thee, fereneft Solitude,

Burft forth th' unbidden lay: ,
• Be gone, vile world! the learn'd, the wife,
• The great, the busy I despise,

And pity e'en the gay.

• These, these are joys alone,' I cry; < 'Tis here, divine Philosophy,

• Thou deign'it to fix thy throne ! • Here Contemplation points the road, • Thro' Nature's charms, to Nature's God!

• These, these are joys alone!

Adieu, ye vain low-thoughted cares, • Ye human hopes, and human fears,

• Ye pleasures and ye pains !' While thus I fpake, o'er all my soul A philosophick calmness stole,

A stoick fillness reigns.

The tyrant paffions all subside,
Fear, anger, pity, shame and pride,

No more my bosom move ;
Yet still I felt, or feem'd to feel,
A kind of visionary zeal

Of universal love.

When, lo! a voice, a voice I hear! 'Twas Reason whisper'd in my car

These monitory Irains :

What

· What mean'st thou, man? would'I thou ùnbind
• The ties which constitute thy kind,

• The pleasures and the pains?"

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· Shall light and Made, and warmth and air,
"With thofe exalted joys compare

Which active Virtue feels !
• When on the drags, as lawful prize,
• Contempt, and Indolence, and Vice,

• At her triumphant wheels,

• As reft to labour ftill succeeds
To man, whilft Virtue's glorious deeds ....ve:

• Employ his toilfome day: 9:00 11:50

This

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