Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Tenant of the valley, deign
Voice of suppliant sad to hear;
Guide a travelling trembling swain,
Wandering lost in labyrinth drear:
Is no village cottage nigh?
Mid the gloom I trace a light,
Like some fire, that seems to fly,
Piercing pale the shades of night.

II

Ah! my son, the hermit cried,
Dread the light, that leads astray;
Vapour wanton, treach'rous guide,
Glimmering only to betray!

Enter thou this humble shed,
Share the hermit's hearty cheer;
Hard his couch, and black his bread,
Yet repose and bliss are here.

III

Melts the gentle pilgrim's breast,
Sooth'd with accents soft and sweet;
Wistful now he sighs to rest;—
Much he loves the kind retreat.
Thatch the cottage covers o'er;
Quick the hermit, host most free,
Lifts the latch, that guards the door,
Door of humble willow-tree.

IV

Near them, as to share his mirth,
Frisks the dog in wanton play;
Gleams the cricket on the hearth,
Chirping loud in numbers gay.
All the joys, that round them rise,
Cannot charm the woe-fraught guest;
Pallid cheeks and tearful eyes
Speak the sorrows of his breast.

V

When the tears began to flow,
Hermit mild begins to soothe:
“Whence proceeds this weight of woe?
“Tell me truly, stranger youth.
“Has some smiling friend betray'd?
“Dost thou mourn some scornful fair?
“Does some foe thy peace invade?
“Leave thee victim to despair?

VI

Poor the joys that wealth can buy,
Man for them should scorn to pray;
Mean the fools for them who sigh,
Meaner, meaner far than they.
Friendship, if on earth you find,
Ah! the phantom will deceive,
Wealth pursuing fast behind,
Leaving misery still to grieve.

VII

Love, too, is a vain pretence,
Falsely bright, a borrow'd glare;
Oft with name, without the sense,
Flaunts the vain capricious fair.

Love to th' earth when she retires,
Lodges not in mortal breast;
No where deigns to kindle fires,
Save within the turtle's nest.

VIII

Trust me, youth, and grow more wise;
All the treacherous sex forego;
At these words the pilgrim sighs;
Tears again begin to flow.
On her face meek candour shone;
Soften'd eyes, and lips, and breast,
Make the charming pilgrim known,
Now a maiden fair confest.

IX

View, she cries, by love betray'd,
One, who courts in vain repose;
View a hapless wandering maid;
Love, the spring of all her woes.
Long I knew not, gay and vain,
How to prize a generous heart;
But to shun the tender chain
All my bliss, and all mine art.

X

Sway'd by fickle follies, I
Thus with pride tumultuous swell;
He but heaves the distant sigh,
Daring not his love to tell.
Not the heavens more clear and bright,
Than his soul was pure and fair;
Milder than the morning light
Was the fire I kindled there.

XI

He nor boasted wealth or birth,
Practis'd no mechanic art;
All his pride was genuine worth,
All his wealth a generous heart;
Graceless me to slight his love!
Now for ever is he fled:
And these lonesome wilds I rove,
Quickly hastening to the dead.

XII

Victim vain, thro' foolish pride,
Now I languish in despair;
Now I rove his grave beside,
Soon to bury all my care:

For none other wish have I,
Than to fall at Raymond's feet;
He thro' love of me did die;
Death for him I soon will meet.

XIII

Raymond, raptur'd, in his arms
Clasps his fair, and thus replies:
“Still I live to view those charms;
“Raymond in no grave-bed lies.
“View me, oh! mine Angeline;
“Still dost thou my fondness prove:
“View me, oh! thou maid divine,
“Whom you mourn, but whom you love.”

XIV

Lost the maid in sweet surprise,
Long to speak attempts in vain:
Till in accents soft she cries,
“View I then my love again?
“Never, never will we part—
“If we live, or if we die,
“But one sigh shall fill each heart;
“In one grave we both will lie.”