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Her brow no ftern refentments arm,
No fwell of empty pride the knew,
In trivial minds that takes th' alarm,
Should humble Love afpire to fue.
Such Love, by flattering charms betray'd,
Shall yet, indignant, foon rebel,
And, blushing for the choice he made,
Shall fly where gentler virtues dwell.
Tis then the mind, from bondage free,
And all its former weaknefs o'er.
Afferts its native dignity,

And scorns what folly priz'd before.
The fcanty pane the rifing ray

On the plain wall in diamonds threw ; The lover hail'd the welcome day,

And to his favourite fcene he flew. There foon Elvira bent her way,

Where long her lonely walks had been; Nor lefs had the preceeding day,

Nor Armine lefs endear'd the scene. Oft' as fhe pafs'd, her rifing heart

Its ftronger tenderness confefs'd, And oft the linger'd to impart

To fome foft hade her fecret breast. "How flow the heavy hours advance." She cry'd, "fince that eventful day, "When firft I caught the fatal glance

"That stole me from my felf away! "Ah, youth belov'd! tho' low thy birth, "The noble air, the manly grace, "That look that fpeaks fuperior worth, "Can fashion, folly, fear erase? "Yet fure from no ignoble stem

"Thy lineage fprings, tho' now unknown: "The world cenforious may condemn, "But, Armine, I am thine alone. "To fplendour only do we live?

"Muft pomp alone our thoughts employ? "All, all that pomp and splendour give "Is dearly bought with love and joy! "But oh!---the favour'd youth appears--"In penfive grief he seems to move : "My heart forbodes unnumber'd fears;

Support it Pity, Virtue, Love! "Hither his footsteps feem to bend --

"Come, Refolution, to my aid! "My breaft what varying paffions rend! "Averfe to go---to stay---afraid!" "Dear object of each fond defire

"That throbs tumultuous in my breast! "Why with averted glance retire?

"At Armine's prefence why diftreft? "What tho' he boast no titled name, "No wide extent of rich domain, "Yet must he feed a hopeless flame,

"Muft truth and nature plead in vain ?” "Think not," fhe faid, "by forms betray'd, “To humbler worth my heart is blind'; "For foon fhall every splendour fade,

"That beams not from thy gifted mind.

"But firft thy heart explore with care, "With faith its fond emotions prove; "Lurks no unworthy paffion there? "Prompts not ambition bold to love? "Yes, lovely maid," the youth replies, "A bold ambition prompts my breaft, "The towering hope that love fupplies, "The wifh in bleffing to be blett. "The meaner prospects I despise "That wealth, or rank, or power beftow; "Be yours the grovelling blifs ye prize, "Ye fordid minds that ftoop fo low! "Be mine the more refin'd delights "Of love that banishes controul, "When the fond heart with heart unites, "And foul's in unifon with foul." Elvira blush'd the warm reply,

(To love a language not unknown) The milder glories fill'd her eye,

And there a fofter luftre fhone.
The yielding fmile that's half fuppreft,
The fhort quick breath, the trembling tear,
The fwell tumultuous of the breast,

In Armine's favour all appear.
At each kind glance their fouls unite,
While love's foft fympathy imparts
That tender tranfport of delight

That beats in undivided hearts.
Refpectful to his lips he prefs'd

Her yielded hand; in hafte away Her yielded hand the drew diftreft,

With looks that witnefs'd wild difmay. "Ah whence, fair excellence, thofe fears! "What terror unforeseen alarms?" "See! where a father's frown appears”—

She faid, and funk into his arms. "My daughter! heavens! it cannot be➡ "And yet it must-O dire disgrace! "Elvira have I liv'd to fee

"Clafp'd in a peafant's vile embrace! "This daring guilt let death repay"His vengeful arm the javelin threw With erring aim it wing'd its way,

And far, by Fate averted, flew. Elvira breathes-her-pulfes beat, Returning life illumes her eye: Trembling a father's view to meet, She fpies a reverend hermit nigh "Your wrath," fhe cries, "let tears affuage"Unheeded muft Elvira pray? "O let an injur'd father's rage

"This hermit's facred prefence ftay! "Yet deem not, loft in guilty love, "I plead to fave my virgin fame; My weakness Virtue might approve,, "And fmile on nature's holy flame." "O welcome to my hopes again,,

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My fon!" the raptur'd hermit cries; "I fought thee forrowing on the plain," And all the father fill'd his eyes,


"Art thou," the raging Raymond said,
"Of this audacious boy the fire?
*** Curfe on the dart that idly sped,

"Nor bade his peafant foul expire!" "His peafant foul!"-indignant fire

Flash'd from the conscious father's eye: "A gallant earl is Arinine's fire,

“And know, proud chief, that earl am I. "Tho' here, within the hermit's cell,

"I long have liv'd unknown to fame, "Yet crowded camps and courts can tell— "Thon too haft heard of Egbert's name." "Hah! Egbert! he, whom tyrant rage "Fore'd from his country's bleeding breaft? "The patron of my orphan age,

"My friend, my warrior ftands confeft! "But why?"-" The painful story spare: "That proftrate youth," faid Egbert," fee; "His anguish afks a parent's care,

"A parent, once who pitied thee!"
Raymond, as one who, glancing round,
Seems from fome fudden trance to start,
Snatch'd the pale lovers from the ground,
And held them trembling to his heart.
Joy, Gratitude, and Wonder shed

United tears o'er Hymen's reign,
And nature her beft triumph led,
For Love and Virtue join'd her train.

† 142. An Italian Song.

DEAR is my little native vale,


The ring-dove builds and warbles there;
Clofe by my cot the tells her tale
To every paffing villager.

The squirrel leaps from tree to tree,
And shells his nuts at liberty.

In orange-groves and myrtle-bowers,
That breathe a gale of fragrance round,
I charm the fairy-footed hours
With my lov'd fute's romantic found;
Or crowns of living laurel weave,
For those that win the race at eve.
The Chepherd's horn at break of day,
The ballet danc'd in twilight glade,
The canzonet and roundelay
Sung in the filent greenwood flade;
Thefe fimple joys, that never fail,
Shall bind me to my native vale.

|Bright Chloe, object of my constant vow,
Wilt thou a while unbend thy ferious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains,
And with one heav'nly fmile o'erpay his pains?
No longer fhall the Nut-Brown Maid be old;
Tho' fince her youth three hundred years have
At thy defire, the fhall again be rais'd; [roll'd.
Andher reviving charms in laftingverfebeprais'd.
No longer man of woman fhall complain,
That he may love and not be lov'd again :
That we in vain the fickle sex pursue,
Who change the conftant lover for the new.
Whatever has been writ, whatever said,
Of female paffion feign'd, or faith decay'd:
Henceforth fhall in my verfe refuted ftand,
Be faid to winds, or writ upon the sand.
And, while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love and ever-during flame;

fairest of the fex! be thou my Mufe:
Deign on my work thy influence to diffuse:
Let me partake the bleffings I rehearse,
And grant me love, the juft reward of verfe.

As beauty's potent queen, with ev'ry grace,
That once was Emma's, has adorn'd thy face;
And as her fon has to my bofom dealt
That conftant flame, which faithful Henry felt;
O let the story with thy life agree :
Let men once more the bright example fee;
What Emma was to him, be thou to me.
Nor fend me by thy frown from her I love,
Diftant and fad, a banith'd man to rove.
But oh! with pity long-entreated crown
My pains and hopes; and, when thou fay'ft(
that one
Of all mankind thou lov'ft, oh! think on me.

WHERE beauteous Ifis and her husband Tame
With mingled waves for ever flow the fame,
In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd;
Great gifts beftow'd, and great refpect receiv'd.
When dreadful Edward with fuccefsful care
Led his free Britons to the Gallic war;
This lord had headed his appointed bands,
In firm allegiance to the king's commands;
And (all due honours faithfully discharg'd)
Had brought back his paternal coat, enlarg'd
With a new mark, the witness of his toil,
And no inglorious part of foreign spoil.

From the loud camp retir'd and noisy court
In honourable eafe and rural sport,
The remnant of his days he safely pafs'd;
Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too fast.
He made his wifh with his eftate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.

One child he had, a daughter chafte and fair,

143. Henry and Emma, a Poem ufon the Model His age's comfort, and bis fortune's heir. of the Nut-Brown Maid.



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They call'd her Emina; for the beauteous dame,
Who gave the virgin birth, had borne the name:
The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd;
For in the child the inother's charms improv'd.
Yet as when little round his knees the play'd,
He call'd her oft, in fport, his Nut-brown Maid;
The friends and tenants took the fondling word
(As ftill they pleafe, who imitate their lord);

M m 3


But, foon as Emma's eyes adorn the plain,
His notes he raises to a nobler ftrain;

is notes he raises to a nobler fibras fear,

Left any carelefs found offend her ear.

A frantic giply, now the house he haunts, And in wild phrafes fpeaks diffembled wants. With the fond maids in palmiftry he deals: They tell the fecret first, which he reveals: Says who fhall wed, and who shall be beguil'd; Whatgroomfhallget,andfquiremaintainthechild. But when bright Emma would her fortune know,

Ufage confrm'd what fancy had begun;
Themutual terms aroundthelands were known;
And Emma and the Nut-hrown Maid were one..
As with her ftature, ftill her charms increas'd;
Thro' all the ile her beauty was confefs'd.
Oh! what perfections mult that virgin fhare,
Who faireft is efteem'd, where all are fair!
From diftant fhires repair the noble youth,
And find report, for once, had leffen'd truth.
By wonder firit, and then by paffion mov'd,
They came; they faw; they marvell'd; and they
By public praifes, and by fecret fighs, [lov'd. A fofter look unbends his op'ning brow;
Each own'd the gen'ral power of Emma's eyes.
In tilts and tournaments the valiant ftrove,
By glorious eds to purchafe Emma's love.
In gentle verde, the witty told their flame,
Andgrac theirchoiceftfongs with Emma's name.
In vain they combated, in vain they writ:
Ufelefs their strength, and impotent their wit.
Great Venus only muft direct the dart,
Which ele will never reach the fair one's

Spite of the attempts of force, and foft effects

of art.

Great Venus mult prefer the happy one:
In Henry's caufe her favour mutt be shown:
And Einma, of mankind, mult love but him (

While thefe in public to the cafle came,
And by their grandeur juftify'd their flame;
More fecret ways the careful Henry takes;
His íquires, his arms, and equipage forfakes:
In borrow'd name and falfe attire array'd,
Oft he finds means to fee the beauteous maid.
When Emma hunts, in huntfinan's habit dreft,
Henry on foot purfues the bounding beaft.
In his right hand his beechen pole he bears:
And graceful at his side his horn he wears.
Still to the glade, where he has bent her way,
With knowing skill he drives the future prey;
Bids her decline the hill, and fhun the brake;
And hows the path her feed may fafeit take;
Directs her fpear to fix the glorious wound;
Pleas'd, in his toils, to have her triumph

And blows her praifes with no common found..
A falconer Henry is, when Emma hawks:
With her of tarfels and of lures he talks.
Upon his wrift the tow'ring merlin ftands,
Practis'd to rife, and ftoop, at her commands.

And when fuperior now the bird has flown,
Andheadlongbroughtthetumblingquarry down;
With humble rev'ronce he accoits the fair,
And with the honour'd feather decks her hair.
Yet ftill, as from the fportive field he goes,
His downcaft eye reveals his inward woes;
And by block and forrow is expreft,
A nobler gune pushed than bird or beast.

With trembling awe he gazes on her eye,
And in foft accents forms the kind reply;
That the fhall prove as fortunate as fair,
AndHymen's choiceft gifts are all referv'dforher.

Now oft had Henry chang'd his fly difguife,
Unmark'd by all but beauteous Emma's eyes;
Oft had found means alone to fee the dame,
And at her feet to breathe his am'rous flame;
And oft, the pangs of absence to remove
By letters, foft interpreters of love:
Till time and industry (the mighty two
That bring our withes nearer to our view)
Made him perceive, that the inclining fair
Receiv'd his vows with no reluctant ear;
That Venus had confirm'd her equal reign,
And dealt to Emma's heart a fhareof Henry'spain.

While Cupid fmil'd, by kind occafion bleft,
And, with the fecret kept, the love increas'd;
The amorous youth frequents the filent groves
And much he meditates, for much he loves.
He loves: 'tis true; and is belov`d again;
Great are his joys; but will they long remain?
Emma with fimiles receives his prefent flame;
But, fmiling, will the ever be the fame?
Beautiful looks are rul'd by fickle minds;
And fummer feas are turn'd by fudden winds.
Another love may gain her ealy youth:
Timechangesthought;and flatt ry conquerstruth.
O impotent estate of human life!
Where hope and fear maintain eternal ftrife;
Where fleeting joy does lafting doubt infpire;
And moft we queftion, what we most defire.
Amongst thy various gifts, great heav'n, below
Our cup of love unmix'd; forbear to throw
Bitter ingredients in; nor pall the draught
With nauteous grief: for our ill-judging thought
Hardly enjoys the pleafurable tafte;
Or deems it not fincere; or fears it cannot laf.

With withes rais'd, with jealoufies opprelt, (Alternate tyrants of the human breaff) The faith of women, and the force of love. By one great trial he refolves to prove If, fcanning Emma's virtues, he may find That beauteous frame inclofe a fteady mind, He'll fix his hope, of future joy fecure; And live a flave to Hymen's happy pow't. A fhepherd now along the win he roves; But if the fair cne, as he fears, is frail, And, with his fally pipe, delights the groves. If, pois'd aright in reafon's equal fcale, The neighbang wins around the franger Light By her merits, and her faults prevail; Or to admire or emulate his fong: [throng, His mind he vows to free from am'rous care,Į While, with foft forrow, he reacws his lays,The went mifchief from his he r. to tear, Nor heedful of their envy, nor their praife. Refume his azure armas, and fhine again in war.


South of the caftle, in a verdant glade,

fpreading beech extends her friendly fhade: Here oft the nymph his breathing vowshad heard: Here oft her filence had her heart declar'd. As active (pring awak'd her infant buds, And genial life inform'd the verdant woods; Henry, in knots involving Emma's name, Had half exprefs'd and half conceal'd his flame Upon the tree: and, as the tender mark Grew with the year, and widen'd with the bark, Venus had heard the virgin's foft addrefs, That as the wound, the paffion might increase. As potent nature shed her kindly how'rs, And deck'd the various mead with op'ning flowers;

Upon this tree the nymph's obliging care
Had left a frequent wreath for Henry's hair;
Which as with gay delight the lover found,
Pleas'd with his conqueft, with her prefent

Glorious thro' all the plains he of: had gone,
And to each fwain the mystic honour thown;
The gift ftill prais'd, the giver ftill unknown.
His fecret note the troubled Henry writes;
To the known tree the lovely maid invites:
Imperfect words and dubious terms exprefs,
That unforeseen mifchance difturb'd his peace;
That he muft fomething to her ear commend,
On which her conduct and his life depend.

Soon as the fair one had the note receiv'd, The remnant of the day alone the griev'd: For diff'rent this from every former note, Which Venus dictated, and Henry wrote; Which told her all his future hopes were laid On the dear bofom of his Nut-brown Maid; Which always blefs'd her eyes, and own'd her And bid her oft adieu, yet added more. [pow'r; Now night advanc'd," The house in fleep were laid;

The nurse experienc'd, and the prying maid:
At laft that sprite, which does inceflant haunt
The lover's fteps, the ancient maiden aunt.
To her dear Henry Emma wings her way,
With quicken'd pace repairing forc'd delay;
For Love, fantastic power, that is afraid
To fir abroad till watchfulness be laid,
Undaunted then, o'er cliffs and valleys ftrays,
And leads his vot'ries afe thro' pathlefs ways.
Not Argus with his hundred eyes thall find
Where Cupid goes; tho' he, poor guide, is blind.
The maiden, firit arriving, fent her eye
To afk, if yet its chief delight were nigh:
With fear, and with defire, with joy and pain,
She fees, and runs to meet him on the plain.
But oh! his steps proclaim no lover's hafte;
On the low ground his fix'd regards are caft;
His artful bofom heaves diffembled fighs;
And tears fuborn'd fall copious from his eyes.
With cafe, alas! we credit what we love:
His painted grief does real forrow move
In the afflicted fair; adown her cheek
Trickling, the genuine tears their current break;
Attentive stood the mournful nymph: the man
Broke filence firft: the tale alternate ran:


Sincere, O tell me, haft thou felt a pain, Emma, beyond what woman knows to feign? Has thy uncertain bofom ever ftrove With the firft tumults of a real love? Haft thou now dreaded, and now bleft his fway, By turns averfe, and joyful to obey? Thy virgin foftnefs halt thou e'er bewail'd, As reafon yielded, and as love prevail'd? And wept the potent god's refiftlefs dart, And heav'nly poifon thrilling thro' thy heart? His killing pleafure, his ecftatic fmart, At least deplore, and then forget my fate: If fo, with pity view my wretched state; To fome more happy knight referve thy charms, By fortune favour'd, and fuccesful arms: And only, as the fun's revolving ray, Brings back each year this melancholy day, Permit one figh, and fet apart one tear, To an abandon'd exile's endless care. For me, alas! out-caft of human race, Love's anger only waits, and dire difgrace; For lo! thefe hands in murder are embru'd; Thefe trembling feet by justice are purfu'd: Fate calls aloud, and haftens me away; A fhameiul death attends my longer stay; And I this night must fly from thee and love, Condemn'd in lonely woods a banished man to



What is our blifs that changeth with the moon; And day of life, that darkens ere 'tis noon? What is true paffion, if unbleft it dies ? And where is Emma's joy, if Henry flies? If love, alas! be pain; the pain I bear No thought can figure, and no tongue declare, Ne'er faithful woman felt, nor falfe one feign'd, The flames which long have in my bofom reign'd: The god of love himfelf inhabits there, [care, With all his rage, and dread, and grief, and His complement of stores, and total war.

O! ceafe then coldly to fufpect my love; And let my deed, at least, my faith approve. Alas! no youth fhall my endearments share; Nor day nor night fhall interrupt my care; No future ftory fhall with truth upbraid The cold indiff 'rence of the Nut-brown Maid: Nor to hard banishment fhall Henry run; While carele's Emma fleeps on beds of down. View me refolv'd, where-e'er thou lead'ft, to go, Friend to thy pain, and partner of thy woe: For I atteft, fair Venus and her fon, That I, of all mankind, will love but thee alone.

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Timely advis'd, the coming evil fhun:
Better not do the deed, than weep it done.
No penance can abfolve our guilty fame;
Nor tears, that wash out fin, can wash out shame.
Then fly the fad effects of defp'rate love; [rove.
And leave a banifh'd manthroughlonely woodsto,


Let Emma's hapless cafe be falfely told
By the rafh young, or the ill-natur'd old:
Let ev'ry tongue its various cenfures choofe;
Abfolve with coldness, or with ipite accufe:
Fair Truth at last her radiant beans will raife;
And malice vanquifh'd heightens virtue's praite
Let then thy favour but indulge my flight;
O! let my prefence make thy travels light;
And potent Venus fhali exalt my name
Above the rumours of cenforious Fame;
Nor from that bufy demon's reftless pow'r
Will ever Emma other grace implore, [known,
Than that this truth fhould to the world be
That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee alone.


Those limbs, in lawn and fofteft filk array'd,
From fun beams guarded, and of winds afraid;
Can they bear angry Jove? Can they refift
The parching dog-itar, and the bleak north-east,
When, chill'd by adverfe fnows, and beating rain,
We tread with weary steps the longfome plain;
When with hard toil we feek our ev'ning food,
Berries and acorns from the neighb'ring wood;
And find among the cliffs no other house,
But the thin covert of fome gather'd boughs;
Wilt thou not then reluctant fend thine eye
Around the dreary wafte; and weeping try
(Tho' then alas! that trial be too late)
To find thy father's hofpitable gate,
And feats,where Eafe and Plenty brooding fate?
Thofe feats, whence long excluded thou must
That gate, for ever barr'd to thy return: [mourn;
Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love,
And hate a banish'd man condemn'd in woods
to rove?


Thy rife of fortune did I only wed, From its decline determin'd to recede? But canft thou wield the fword, and bend the Did I but purpofe to embark with thee With active force repel the sturdy foe? [bow? On the fmooth furface of a fummer's fea, When the loud tumult fpeaks the battle nigh, While gentle Zephyrs play in profp'rous gales, And winged deaths in whistling arrows fly; And Fortune's favour fills the fwelling fails; Wilt thou, tho' wounded, yet undaunted stay, But would forfake the thip, and make the shore, Perform thy part, and share the dangerous day? When the winds whistle, and the tempefts roar? Then, as thy ftrength decays, thy heart will fail, No, Henry, no: one facred oath has ty'd Thy limbs all trembling, and thy cheeks all pale; Our loves; one deftiny our life fhall guide; With fruitless for ow, thou, inglorious maid, Nor wild nor deep our common way divide. Wilt weep thy fafety by thy love betray'd: When from the cave thou rifeft with the day, Then to thy friend, by foes o'ercharg'd, deny To beat the woods, and roufe the bounding prey; Thy little ufelefs aid, and coward fly: [love The cave with mofs and branches I'll adorn, Then wilt thou cu fe the chance that made thee And cheerful fit, to wait my lord's return: Abanish'dmancondemn'dinlonelywoodstorove. And, when thou frequent bring'ft the smitten


With fatal certainty Thaleris knew
To fend the arrow from the twanging yew:
And, great in arms, and foremost in the war,
Bonduca brandifh'd high the British fpear.
Could thin of vengeance and defire of fame

Excite the female breaft with martial flame?
And fhall not love's diviner pow'r infpire
More hardy virtue, and more generous fire?
Near thee, miftruft not, conftant I'll abide,
And fall, or vanquish, fighting by thy fide.
Though my inferior ftrength may not allow,
That I fhould bear or draw the warrior bow;
With ready hand I will the shaft supply,
And joy to fee thy victor arrows fly.
Touch'd in the battle by the hoftile reed,
Should't thou (but Heav'n avert it !) fhould't
thou bleed;

To ftop the wounds my fineft lawn I'd tear,
Wash them with tears, and wipe them with my

Bleft, when my dangers and my toils have shown,
That I, of all mankind, could love but thee alone.


But canft thou, tender maid, canft thou fuftain Afflictive want, or hunger's preffing pain?

|(For seldom, archers fay, thy arrows err), [deer
I'll fetch quick fuel from the neighb'ring wood,
And ftrike the fparkling flint, and drefs the
With humble duty, and officious haste, [food:
I'll eull the furtheft mead for thy repaft:
The choiceft herbs I to thy board will bring;
And draw thy water from the freshest spring:
And when, at night, with weary toil oppreft,
Soft flumbers thou enjoy 'ft, and wholefome reft;
Watchful I'll guard thee, and with midnight


Weary the gods to keep thee in their care;
If thou haft health, and I may blefs the day.
And joyous afk, at morn's returning ray,
My thoughts fhall fix, my latest with depend,
On thee, guide, guardian, kinfman, father, friend:
By all thefe facred names be Henry known
To Emma's heart: and grateful let him own,
That the, of all mankind, could love but him

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