“And, ah! forgive a stranger rude, A wretch forlorn.” she cried; “Whose feet unhallow’d thus intrude Where Heaven and you reside. “But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray: Who seeks for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way. “My father lived 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 praised me for imputed charms, And felt, or feign’d a flame. “Each hour a mercenary crowd With richest proffers strove; Amongst the rest young Edwin bow’d, But never talk’d of love. “In humblest, simplest habit clad, No wealth nor pow’r had he; Wisdom and worth were all he had, But these were all to me. “And when, beside me in the dale, He carol’d lays of love, His breath lent fragrance to the gale, And music to the grove.[11] “The blossom opening to the day, The dews of Heav’n refin’d, Could nought of purity display To emulate his mind. “The dew, the blossom on the tree, With charms inconstant shine; Their charms were his, but, woe to me, Their constancy was mine. “For still I tried each fickle art, Importunate and vain; And while his passion touch’d my heart I triumph’d in his pain. “Till quite dejected with my scorn He left me to my pride; And sought a solitude forlorn, In secret, where he died. “But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay: I’ll seek the solitude he sought, And stretch me where he lay. “And there forlorn, despairing, hid, I’ll lay me down and die; ’Twas so for me that Edwin did, And so for him will I.” “Forbid it, Heaven!” the Hermit cried, And clasped her to his breast: The wandering fair one turned to chide;―― ’Twas Edwin’s self that press’d. “Turn Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, Restor’d to love and thee. “Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And ev’ry care resign: And shall we never, never part, My life――my all that’s mine? “No never, from this hour to part We’ll live and love so true, The sigh that rends thy constant heart Shall break thy Edwin’s too.” ――――:o:―――― THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY. This poem is given in Bishop Percy’s _Reliques of Ancient English Poetry_ with the following note:――