THE HERMIT. 



857 



1 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 wondering fair one turned to chide : 

 'Twas Edwin's self that prest. 



' Turn, Angelina, ever dear, 



My charmer, turn to see 

 Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, 



Restored to love and thee. 



' Thus let me hold thee to my heart, 



And every 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.' 



