II. There beauteous Emma flourish'd fair, Beneath a mother's eye; Whofe only wish on earth was now. To fee her bleft, and die. The fofteft blush that Nature fpreads Gave colour to her cheek: Such orient colour fmiles through heaven, When vernal mornings break. IV. Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn That fun, who bids their diamond blaze, To paint our lilly deigns. V. Long had the fill'd each youth with love, Each maiden with defpair; And though by all a wonder own'd, Yet knew not fhe was fair. VI. Till Edwin came, the pride of fwains, A foul devoid of art; And from whofe eye, ferenely mild, Shone forth the feeling heart. VII.. A mutual flame was quickly caught; 11 For neither bofom lodg'd a wish, That virtue keeps conceal'd. VIII. What happy hours of home-felt blifs Did love on both bestow! But blifs too mighty long to laft, IX. His fifter, who, like Envy form'd, To work them harm, with wicked skill, Each darker art employ'd. The father too, a fordid man, Who love nor pity knew, Was all-unfeeling as the clod From whence his riches grew. XI. Long had he feen their fecret flame, Had fternly disapprov'd. XII. In Edwin's gentle heart, a war Yet could not ceafe to love. XIII. Deny'd her fight, he oft behind The spreading hawthorn crept, To fnatch a glance, to mark the spot XIV. Oft too on Stanmore's wintry wafte, XV. His cheek, where health with beauty glow'd, A deadly pale o'ercast: So fades the fresh rofe in its prime, Before the northern blaft.. XVI The parents now, with late remorfe, Hung o'er his dying bed; And weary'd Heaven with fruitless vows, And fruitless forrow fhed. XVII. 'Tis paft! he cry'd---but if your fouls Sweet mercy yet can move, Let thefe dim eyes once more behold, What they must ever love! XVIII. She came; his cold hand. foftly touch'd,. And bath'd with many a tear: 32 Faft-falling o'er the primrose pale, So morning dews appear. XIX. But oh! his fifter's jealous care, A cruel fifter fhe! Forbade what Emma came to say; "My Edwin live for me." XX. Now homeward as the hopeless wept The church-yard path along, The blast blew cold, the dark owl scream'd Her lover's funeral fong. XXI.: Amid the falling gloom of night, Her ftartling fancy found His groan in every found. XXII. Alone, appall'd, thus had the pafs'd The vifionary vale---- 'When lo! the death-bell fmøte her ear,. Sad-founding in the gale! XXIII. Juft then she reach'd, with trembling step, Her aged mother's door--- He's gone! fhe cry'd; and I fhall fee. That angel-face no more! XXIV. I feel, I feel this breaking heart Beat high against my fide--- From her white arm down funk her head; A CONTEMPLATION ON NIGHT. BY GAY. WHETHER amid the gloom of Night I stray, When the gay fun first breaks the shades of Night, |