University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Hermitage: Edwin, disguised as a Hermit, sitting in the entrance; in profound contemplation. He rises, and comes, slowly, forward.
Edwin.
O Memory! thou fond deceiver;
Still importunate and vain;
To former joys recurring ever;
And turning all the past to pain.
Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing;
Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe;
And he who wants each other blessing,
In thee must ever find a foe.
(Walks in great agitation.)
How sad! and, yet, how true! How many suns
Have cours'd their daily round; how many moons
Have silver'd o'er this dell, and sunk in night;
Since first I enter'd!—Yet, nor the jocund
Sun, nor moon soft-smiling, cheer my soul.
In vain, the hermit's sacred robe invests me;
In vain, at earliest morn and deepest night,
I kneel before my rustic altar; press,

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With trembling lips, the crucifix; and strive
To frame some apt, and well-according prayer;
Love and despair still triumph in my breast.
Angelina!—Angelina!—This cell,
These dark and dreary woods, alone reply;
Alone make answer to my mournful cries.
Time! thine are the spendthrift's promises!
And life! thou'rt full of agony! Ah where!
Where shall the wretched find some sure repose?