Beneath her husband's roof the matchless fair Graced each delight, and each domestic care. Her plastic needle bade fresh flow'rets grow; And, hung in rich festoons, around her glow; In cooling grots her shellwork seized the eye, With skill arrang'd, to show each melting dye; Her taste the garden everywhere sustain'd, In each parterre her vivid fancy reign'd. Submissive yews in solid walls she form'd, Or bade them rise a castle, yet unstorm'd; In love the eagle hover'd o'er its nest, Or seem'd a couchant lion sunk to rest. Her husband's sports his lov'd Edwina shar'd, For her the hawking party was prepar'd; She roused the wolf--the foaming boar she chased, And Danger's self was in her presence graced. Thus roll'd two years on flowery wheels along, Midst calm domestic bliss, and sport, and song. O, Edgar! from pernicious Gallia's shore, Hadst thou, immoral youth! return'd no more, Such years tho' lengthen'd time had sweetly run, Down to the faintest beams of life's last sun. But thou returnd'st! and thy voluptuous heart, Which from temptation never knew to start, Seized on Edwina as a lawful prize-- All dead to Honour's voice, and Conscience' secret cries. Edgar to Ennerdale oft bent his way, His form was courtly, and his manners gay; To Henry he would speak of wars he'd seen, Of tournaments, and gaudes, 'midst peace serene. When for Edwina's ear the tale was fram'd The beauties of bright Gallia's court were nam'd, Their lives, their loves, all past before her view, And many things were feign'd he never knew. At length the prudent fair remark'd the style, And saw beneath his ease distorted guile;-- For virtue in his tales ne'er found a place, Nor maiden vigilance, nor matron grace, But wild and loose his glowing stories ran, And thus betray'd the black designing man. As when, in eastern climes, 'midst hours of play, A sweet boy (wand'ring at the close of day, Along the margin of a gadding stream, Whilst Hope around him throws her fairy dream) Sudden beholds the panther's deadly eye, And turns, by impulse strong, his step to fly-- So turn'd Edwina, when she saw, reveal'd, The net th' ensnaring youth had hop'd conceal'd: Whenever he appear'd her air grew cold, And awed to mute despair this baron bold; He by degrees forbore to seek her gate, Who sat enshrin'd within, in Virtue's state. But his wild wishes did not cease to rage, Nor did he strive their fever to assuage-- For sinful love is ever dear to sin, Its victims self-correction ne'er begin; But, hurried on by hell, pursue their road, Nor heed surrounding woes, nor tremble at their God!