I
 
 1 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 

 
 LOUISA, 
 
 POETICAL 
 
 ••if 
 
 NOVEL, 
 
 I N 
 
 FOUR EPISTLES. 
 
 BY MISS SEWARD. 
 
 THE FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 \ 
 
 LICHFIELD: 
 
 Printed and Sold by J. Jackson, and G. Robinson, 
 IN Pat ER - NosTER - Row, London, 
 
 MDCCLXXXIV.
 
 C/c 
 

 
 PREFACE. 
 
 TH E enfuing epiftolary poems contain a defcription rather 
 of pafiions than of incidents. They refulted from an idea 
 of it being pofliblc to unite the impairion'd fondnefs of Pope's -^ * ' ' 
 
 ELOISA, with the charter tendernefs of Prior's E M M A j ^ q y£ 
 
 avoiding the voluptuoufnefs of the firft, and the too conceding 
 Ibftnefs of the fecond. It is hoped the Reader will diftinguifli I'^s': 
 
 between the apprehended poffibility of exhibiting in verfe a more 
 fauhlefs female Charadler than the ELOISA of Pope, or the 
 EMMA of Prior, and the ralh and vain defign of equalling, 
 much lefs of furpaffing the tranfcendent poetic excellence of either 
 of thofe Compofitions. 
 
 The LOUISA of the following pages has all that enthufiafm 
 which fprings from an heart warmly afted:ionate, joined to a glow- 
 ing and pidlurefque imagination. Her fenfibilities, heightened, and 
 refined in the bofom of Retirement, know no bounds, except thofe 
 which the dignity of confcious Worth, and aftrong fenfe of Religion 
 prcfcribe. It is feared the modern young Ladies will have little 
 fympathy with her, fmce fhe is unfaflaionably enthuCiaftic, and un- 
 falhionably tender. 
 
 A N ingenious Friend, after reading the firft epiftle, remarked, 
 that LOUISA might have defcribed with more interefting par- 
 ticularity her Lover's declaration of his paffion, and the manner 
 in which flie received that declaration ; but the Author thought 
 the prefent method of conveying that circumflance to the mind of 
 the Reader more poetic. Pope's ELOISA is minute in her def- 
 cription of the awful Scenery, formed by the rocks, the ftreams, and 
 mountains of Paraclete, but by no means minute concerning the 
 amorous eclairciffement between herfelf and Abelard. LOUISA 
 difcriminates her Lover's ear/y attentions to her, tho' fhe leaves the 
 manner of his declaring their fource very much to the Imagination. 
 
 B Her
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Her application of the beautifal fcenic objeds, by which {he was at 
 that interval furrounded, to her own, and to her Lover's fituation ; 
 and the paffing fuddenly to their prefent altered appearance, contrafis 
 the charms, and bloom of the firft, with the chill drearinefs of the 
 fecond. There it was that the Author had in view that ftriking letter 
 in the 3d Vol. of the Nouvelle-Heloife, which defcribes St. Preaux 
 accompanying Mrs, Wolmar to the rocks of Meillerie, then covered 
 with the richnefs of Summer-luxuriance j and painting to her the 
 fituation of that very Scene, when he had vifited it alone, amidft the 
 horrors of Winter, and found thofe honors congenial to the temper 
 of his Soul. 
 
 This Poem has little chance to be popular. A feeling Heart, 
 and a fondnefs for Verfe muft unite to render it interefting. A feeling 
 Heart without a glowing Imagination will be tired of the Landfcape- 
 painting, fomewhat luxuriantly interfperfed. An Imagination that 
 glows, while the Heart is frozen, has a propenfity to fancy every thing 
 profaic which is not imagery, and will probably yawn over the reafon- 
 ing of thefe Lovers, and ficken over their tcndernefs. 
 
 I F, however, this little Work has the honor to interefl and pleafe 
 the Few, in whom the kind and fweet affedlions are blended with 
 poetic tafte, the end for which it is publiflied will be obtained. 
 
 Except fome flight alterations, which have been made fince the 
 two firft Editions, the hundred and fifty fix lines, with which the poem 
 opens, were written when the Author was only nineteen. They had 
 been millaid during a long interval. It is fixteen months fince they 
 were accidentally recovered. Some few Friends, to whom the Frag- 
 ment was fhewn, thought it worth being extended into a regular 
 Work. The firft, and third of thefe epiftles are defigned to be def- 
 criptive, and fentimental ; the fecond, and laft, dramatic.
 
 O U I 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 HER FRIEND IN THE EAST -INDIES. 
 
 October 21, 1779. 
 
 THEE, Emma, four flow-circling years have feen 
 Prefs, with thy penfive foot, Savannas green ; 
 Seen thee, with fond Affedtion's moiften'd gaze, 
 And the low-warbled fong of former days. 
 Wind round the fhadowy Rock, and {helving Glade, 
 Where broad Bananas flretch their grateful {hade ; 
 Bend o'er the Weft thy longing eyes, and chide 
 The tardy Breeze that fans th' iinfreighted Tide. 
 
 Now, as with filial care thy light ftep roves, 
 Thro' India's palmy plains, and fpicy groves, 
 
 B 2 To
 
 [ = ] 
 
 To blefs thee, exil'd thus in Youth's gay prime, 
 May fprightly Health refifl: the torrid clime, 
 Temper the /ickly blafl, the lever'd ray. 
 And Peace, and Pleafure, lead the fliining Day ! 
 Yet, when thou know'ft for me, that Sorrow fhrouds 
 Hope's cryftal mirror with impervious clouds, 
 The iighs, and tears, that tendereft pity fpeak, 
 Shall fwell thy breaft, and chill thy glowing cheek ; 
 Since one have been our pleafures, one our cares, 
 From the firft dawn of thofe delicious years. 
 What time, infpir'd by joy's enlivening powers. 
 We chas'd the gilded Infed; thro' the bowers ; 
 And oh ! I fondly tell my anxious heart, 
 The deareft truth experience can impart. 
 That yet, to quench this fympathy of foul, 
 Time, and the world of waters, vainly roll. 
 
 O'er this deep Glen, departing Autumn throws. 
 With kind reverted glance, a fhort repofe. 
 E'er yet fhe leaves her England's fading fcene, 
 Where iickly yellow ftains the vivid green, 
 
 And
 
 [ 3 ] 
 
 And many an icy morn, and ftormy gale 
 Embrown the pathway of the winding vale. 
 
 Now, while I feek the bofom of the Glade, 
 And the thin {helter ot th' impoverifh'd Shade, 
 Unequal fteps, and rifing fighs, difclofe 
 The thorny prefTure of tyrannic woes ; 
 And where th' incumbent Rock, with awful face, 
 Bends o'er the fountain, gurgling from its bafe, 
 And marks the limit of the iilent Dell, 
 Sadly I fit my bofom'd griefs to tell ; 
 Invoke thy Spirit, thofe fond griefs to footh, 
 And bid, alas ! their furging tide be fmooth. 
 
 It will not be ; — fince here, with yearning thought, 
 By weak, involuntary impulfe brought. 
 Where Love and Memory bear reliftlefs fway. 
 And all the weaknefs of the Soul betray ! 
 
 O ye known objects ! — how ye ftrike my heart ! 
 And vain regrets, with keener force, impart ! 
 
 Slow
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
 Slow, thro' the faded grove, paft Pleafures glide, 
 Or fadly linger by the fountain's fide. 
 
 Dear, awful witnefs of a broken vow, 
 Steep Rock, how fternly frowns thy rugged brow ! 
 But, if the frequent blaft fhall bend thy pines, 
 Clear at thy foot the cryftal water fhines ! 
 Tho' drizzling Clouds the mifty Mountains veil, 
 Yet the mild Sun-beam gilds the narrow Dale ! 
 Tho' vernal flow'rs this bank no more adorn, 
 Nor Summer's wild-rofe blufhes on its thorn, 
 Yet fhelter'd, mofly, dry, and warm, it draws 
 The heedlefs roving ftep to quiet paufe. 
 
 Thus the pale Year, tho' Nature's edids urge 
 Her ftep to Winter's defolating verge. 
 Sedately pafTes to the drear domain, 
 And breathes, e'en yet, foft comforts o'er the plain ; 
 But oh ! for me, in Youth's luxuriant glow, 
 Hope's lovely florets wither as they blow ! 
 
 No
 
 [ 5 ] 
 
 No grief my bofom at our parting knew, 
 But that of bidding thee a long adieu ; 
 And the fvveet tears, that fuch foft forrows bring, 
 Fall, as light rain-drops in the funny Spring ; 
 For youthful Hope, fubduing tender Fears, 
 Bounds o'er the gulf of interpofing Years ; 
 While, thro' their courfe, her airy hands avert 
 Misfortune's arrow from the Wanderer's heart. 
 
 Soon then did Cheerfulnefs the morn illume. 
 And Peace defcend with Evening's grateful gloom ; 
 They faw my breaft in that clear fpirit gay. 
 Which fpeeds the focial hour fo faft away. 
 
 Now Expedlation's fervour rofe, to hail 
 The youthful Mafter of this quiet Vale, 
 My blooming Brother — from Oxonia's towers. 
 Who fought, with tender hafte, his native bowers. 
 
 'Twas Noon, and ripen'd Summer's fervid ray 
 From cloudlefs Ether fhed opprefTive day. 
 
 As
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
 As on this fhady bank I fat reclin'd, 
 My voice, that floated on the waving wind, 
 Taught the foft echos of the neighboring plains 
 Milton's fweet lays, in Handel's matchlefs ftrains. 
 Prefaging notes my lips iinconfcioiis try, 
 And murmur — " * Hide me from Day's garifh eye ! 
 Ah ! bleft, had Death beneath his fable fhrine 
 Hid me from all the woes that fince were mine ! 
 
 Beneath my trembling fingers lightly rung 
 The Lute's fweet chords, refponfive while I fung. 
 Faint in the yellow broom the Oxen lay, 
 And the mute Birds fat languid on the fpray ; 
 And nought was heard, around the noon-tide bower. 
 Save, that the mountain Bee, from flower to flower, 
 Seem'd to prolong, with her afllduous wing, 
 The foft vibration of the tuneful ftring ; 
 While the fierce Skies flam'd on the fhrinking Rills, 
 And fultry Silence brooded o'er the Hills ! 
 
 As on my lip the lingering cadence play'd. 
 My Brother gaily bounded down the glade, 
 
 * An enchanting Song of Handel's, from Milton's II Penferefo. 
 
 And,
 
 [ 7 ] 
 And, while my looks the fire of gladncfs dart, 
 "With ardor prefs'd me to his throbbing heart j 
 Then to a graceful Stranger turnM, whofe feet. 
 With fteps lefs fwift, my coyer welcome meet. 
 O'er his fine form, and o'er his glowing face, 
 Youth's ripen'd bloom had fhed its richeft grace ; 
 Tall as the Pine, amidft inferior Trees, 
 With all the bending Ozier's pliant eafe. 
 O'er his fiiir brow, the fairer for their fhade. 
 Locks of the warmeft brown luxuriant play'd. 
 Blufhing he bows ! — and gentle awe fupplies 
 Each flattering meaning to his downcaft eyes ; 
 Sweet, ferious, tender, thofe blue eyes impart 
 A thoufand dear fenfations to the heart ; 
 Mild as the Evening Star whofe fhining ray 
 Soft in th" unruffled Water feems to play ; 
 And when he fpeaks — not Mufic's thrilling pow'r. 
 No, not the vocal Miftrefs of the bow'r, 
 When flow fhe warbles from the bloflTom'd fpray, 
 In liquid blandifliment, her evening lay, 
 Such foft infinuating fweetnefs knows. 
 As from that voice in melting accent flows ! 
 
 Yet
 
 [ 8 J 
 
 Yet why, fond Memory ! why, in tints fo warm, 
 Paint' ft thou each beauty of that faultlefs Form? 
 His fpecious virtues furely might impart 
 Excufe more juft for this devoted heart. 
 Oh ! how each noble pallion's feeming trace, 
 Threw tranfient glories o'er his youthful face ! 
 How rofe, with fudden impulfe, fvvift, and ftrong. 
 For ev'ry fecret fraud, and open wrong 
 Th' Oppreflbr afts, the Helplefs feel, or fear, 
 Difdain's quick throb, and Pity's melting tear ! 
 So well its part each du<5tile feature play'd, 
 Of worth, fuch firm, tho' filent promife made. 
 That to have doubted its well painted truth, 
 Had been to want the primal grace of youth 
 Credulity,' that fcorns, with gen'rous heat, 
 Alike to prad:ice, or fufpeft deceit. 
 
 Ceafe, vain Regrets, excurfive Fancy ceafe ! 
 Ye only wound afrefli my bleeding peace, 
 And keep from gentle Emma's anxious ear 
 Th' event fhe longs, yet kindly dreads, to hear ; 
 
 But
 
 [ 9 ] 
 
 But ah ! nor fingular, nor ftrange the tale, 
 My Sifter-Sufferers mourn in ev'cry vale ; 
 For gold, and dazzling ftate, incefl'ant prove, 
 In Man's hard heart, the Murderers of Love. 
 
 While many a Sun in Summer-glory rofe, 
 EuGENio's lip no fofter accent knows 
 Than Friendfhip didates — but diforder'd praife, 
 Scarce half exprefs'd ; the muling ardent gaze ; 
 The va'-ying cheek ; the frequent fmother'd figh, 
 Reveal the latent meaning of his eye ; 
 Plain, and yet plainer ev'ry hour, declare 
 The fhining fecrecies, that languifh there. 
 
 Thefe are the days that fly on Rapture's wing. 
 Empurpling ev'ry flower that decks the Spring ; 
 For when delicious Hope, with vvhil'per bland. 
 Wakes the dear magic of her potent wand. 
 More vivid colours paint the riiing Morn, 
 And clearer cryftal gems the fllver thorn ; 
 On more luxuriant fhade the Noon-beam plays. 
 And richer gold the Evening-Sun arrays ; 
 
 C 2 Stars
 
 [ 'o ] 
 Stars feem to glitter with enamoiir'd fire, 
 And fliadovvy Hills in ftatelier grace afpire ; 
 More fubtle fweetnefs fcents the pafTing gales, 
 And fofter beauty decks the moon-light Vales ; 
 All Nature fmiles ! nor e'en the jocund Day, 
 When feftal rofes ftrew the bridal way, 
 Darts thro' the Virgin breaft fuch keen delight, 
 As when foft Fears with gay Belief unite ; 
 As Hope, fweet, warm, feducing Hope infpires, 
 Which fomewhat queftions, what it mofl defires ; 
 Reads latent meaning in a Lover's eye. 
 Thrills at his glance, and trembles at his ligh ; 
 As o'er the Frame diforder'd tranfport pours, 
 When only lefs than Certainty is ours. 
 
 At length, that rofy Certainty appears, 
 With faithlefs promifes of golden years. 
 Here, by this fountain fide, Eugenio ftrove 
 To trace the tender progrefs of his love ; 
 'Twas on the Evening of a fplendid Day ; — 
 Calm on the gilded grafs the fountain lay ! 
 
 But
 
 [ " ] 
 
 But oh ! when doubt, in that dear moment, fled, 
 A calm more funny o'er my bofom fpread ! 
 
 As the gay Lark his laft clear carol fung, 
 And on a flanting Sun-beam warbling hung, 
 With fweeter mufic trill'd the vefper lay, 
 Than when he foar'd amid the blaze of Day ; 
 But yet a thoufand times more fvveet the found, 
 In which my Soul its deareft bleffing found ! 
 
 Slow on the Sun had ftol'n the failing Cloud, 
 And drawn o'er his gay fires the purple fhroud, 
 Then roU'd away !' — till, by no fhade repreft. 
 Afar the fetting Orb emblaz'd the Weft ; 
 Lighted with arrowy beams the Ocean caves, 
 And funk with fplendor in the illumin'd waves ! 
 
 Thus oft would Modefty her blufh employ, 
 Coyly to veil the radiance of my joy j 
 But from thefe eyes the fun-bright gladnefs beam'd. 
 And all the triumph of my bofom ftream'd ! 
 
 'Twas
 
 [ " 1 
 
 'Twas here, — e'en here !— where now I fit reclined, 
 And Winter's fighs found hollow in the Wind ; 
 Loud, and more loud the blaft of Evening raves, 
 And ftrips the Oaks of their laft, lingering leaves ; 
 The eddying foliage in the tempeft flies. 
 And Alls with dufkier gloom the thickning Skies. 
 Red finks the Sun, behind the howling Hill, 
 And rufhes, with hoarfe ftream, the mountain Rill, 
 And now, with ruffling billow, cold, and pale. 
 Runs, fwoln, and dafhing, down the lonely Vale ; 
 While, to thefe tear-full eyes. Grief's faded form. 
 Sits on the Cloud, and fighs amid the Storm ! 
 
 Yet, dreary Vale ! detain thy penlive Gueft, 
 Tho' drizzling fleet beats cold upon her breaft I 
 To this fad Soul more welcome are thy glooms, 
 Than Spring's green bowers, or Summer's gaudy blooms ; 
 Nor aiks an Heart, that only breathes to figh, 
 A warmer manfion, or a kinder Sky ! 
 
 And ftill that deftin'd Heart, fo fond to mourn. 
 And dwell on fcenes, which never can return. 
 
 Shrinks.
 
 [ '3 ] 
 
 Shrinks, e'en as guilty bofoms fhrink from fliame, 
 To join with Perfidy E u c e n i o's name ; 
 Feels its foft ftreams in ev'ry piilfe recede 
 From the pain'd mention of one barboroiis deed, 
 That kills my hopes, like Eurus' fierce career 
 On the bright foliage of the early year ; 
 Which turns, while premature its buds difclofcj 
 To livid yellownefs the damafk Rofe. 
 
 Thou fee'ft, my Emma with what fond delay 
 Th' unwilling Spirit loiters on her way ; 
 Clings to paft fcenes that wore gay Summer's form ; 
 Clings to the wildnefs of the wintry Storm, 
 To ftop the fad narration, e'er it throw. 
 Dark on my fate, the long, long night of Woe. 
 
 Yet, O my Soul ! refume it, e'er the power 
 Of wafting Sicknefs brings the fcver'd Hour, 
 That ftops th' ill-guided pen in the weak hand, 
 And fhakes from Life's dim glafs the ebbing fand ! 
 
 Thou,
 
 C H ] 
 Thou, E M M A, wilt not blame my eafy youth, 
 That Toon this Heart declar'd its tenderefl: truth. 
 Ah ! could I dream he feign'd, whofe glances warm 
 With ceafelefs ardor wander'd o'er my form ? 
 And as gay fmiles, and youthful graces fair, 
 Shone in my eyes, and harmoniz'd my air, 
 Not one unheeded pafs'd his eager gaze, 
 His fervent, yet dilcriminating praife ; 
 The' oft he fwore, amid the fond furvey, 
 The Mind they grac'd was lovelier far than they ; 
 Protefted oft, that Mind was form'd to fhare 
 Each high-foul'd purpofe, and each virtuous care ; 
 Catch ev'ry new idea, as it rofe, 
 Partake his joys, and melt with all his woes ; 
 Falfe could I think that vow, whofe ftarting tear 
 Sprung, the warm witnefs of a faith lincere ? 
 
 Now dawn'd th' appointed, but unwelcome Day, 
 That bore my deareft Brother far away, 
 Where foreign Climes might ftore his ripening Youth, 
 With Obfervation, Science, Tafte, and Truth. 
 
 4. The
 
 [ '5 ] 
 
 The fame fad Day my lov'd Eugknio figh'd 
 Adieus impafTion'd to his promis'd Bride ; 
 Yet often urg'd, infpiring faithlefs eafe, 
 That between us Fate fpread no cruel Seas ; 
 Alas ! in his chang'd Heart my eyes explore, 
 Of Falfehood's waves, — a Sea, — -without a Shore ! 
 
 Where Thames expands with Freedom's wealthy pride, 
 Attractive Commerce calls him to her Tide ; 
 As with firm ftep fhe runs along the Strand, 
 And points to the tall Ship, the diftant Land, 
 His rifing interefls on the call attend. 
 For with a Father's profperous fate they blend. 
 Thus, with thefe interefts. Duty's filial power 
 Unites to tear him from Louisa's bower; 
 But parting Sorrows yield them to the force 
 Of ftrong Neceflity's refiftlefs courfe. 
 By generous Confidence when luU'd to reft. 
 That broods, on dove-like pinion, o'er the breaft ; 
 While, from kind letters, rays of joy pervade 
 The gloomy moments of the love-fick Maid ; 
 
 D And
 
 [ i6 ] 
 
 And oK ! how warm, who bright thole letters glow'd, 
 What ardent Love, in melting language flow'd, 
 My deareft Emma, thou wilt ne'er explore; 
 The brilliant Talifmans are mine no more ! 
 Pride, Virgin-Pride, pronounced the ftern beheft, 
 And tore the faithlefs Scriptures from my breaft ! 
 
 Thro' four fweet months, to my delighted eyes 
 Thefe precious tablets of my blifs arife ! 
 At length, dread Silence, — torturing Doubt, and Fear, 
 Prompt the pang'd figh — but check the fofter tear ; 
 Thro' the lone Day, and lonelier Night, impart 
 ** The Hope deferr'd, that maketh lick the Heart." 
 Wifh'd Morning comes ! — and Hour fucceeds to Hour ! 
 But ftill, Sufpenfe, and Terror o'er me lower ; 
 Chace each conjeAure kind, with fierce controul. 
 And fend their cruel ice-bolt thro' my foul. 
 
 Three wretched weeks my throbbing bofom bears 
 The wounding confli<5l of its various fears. 
 While Rumour's voice inflames my grief, and pride, 
 And gives Eugenio to a wealthier Bride. 
 
 My
 
 [ '7 ] 
 My trembling hands, the lick fufpenfe to eafe, 
 From Day to Day the public records feize ; 
 While glances, rapid as the meteor's ray, 
 Eager amidft the crouded columns ftray ; 
 Snatch at fad Certainty from bufy Fame, 
 Yet dread to meet my dear Eugenio's Name. 
 
 Now glooms on the ftain'd page the barborous Truth, 
 And blights each blooming promife of my youth ! 
 EuGENio married! — Anguifh, and Defpair, 
 In ev'ry pompous killing letter glare ! 
 Thy Love, a Sacrifice to glut thy Pride ! — 
 Ah ! what avail the riches of thy Bride ! 
 Can they avail, remorfelefs as thou art, 
 To tear the wrong'd Louisa from thy heart ? 
 
 Gold, and ye Gems, that lurk in Eaftern Cave, 
 Or to the Sun your gay refplendence wave. 
 Can joys {incerc, one heart-felt tranfport live 
 In ought ye purchafe, or in ought ye give ? 
 A Blifs, to rival thofe thy avarice loft, 
 Inlblvent I x d i a fliall but vainly boaft ! 
 
 D 2 Was
 
 [ '8 ] 
 
 Was it for this my gentle Brother's heart 
 Bore in our growing loves fo warm a part ! 
 That foft Indulgence deck'd his open brows, 
 That Smiles fraternal hail'd our mutual vows ! 
 And, as he kindly breath'd the parting iigh. 
 Love's cryftal fluid rufliing to his eye, 
 Was it for this our blooming Hopes he bleft, 
 Seiz'd our twined hands, and clafp'd them to his breaft ? 
 Ah! did he know his lov'd Louisa's fate, 
 What Energy would nerve his riflng Hate ! 
 Hafte, my Lorenzo, to thy Sifter's aid! 
 With thy fwift vengeance be her wrongs repaid ! 
 Ye riflng Winds, his wandering Sails reftore ! 
 Ye refluent Waters, bear him to the Shore ! 
 
 And thou, vain Bride ! enjoy the Meteor-ray, 
 The fancied fun-beam of thy nuptial Day ! 
 Stern Fury waits, to quench its tranflent light. 
 In deep, enfanguin'd, everlafting Night ! 
 Bleed, Faithlefs, bleed ! — L o u i s a's Wrongs explor'd, 
 Shall frown relentlefs on her Brother's fword ! 
 
 — Rafh, 
 
 9-
 
 [ '9 ] 
 
 — Rafh, loft Lo uis A !— coiild'ft thou bear the ftrife ? 
 
 Throw on a fatal chance thy Brother's life ? 
 
 Or ftretch, a vi6lim to thy proud difdain, 
 
 EuGENio, pale, and bleeding, on the plain ? 
 
 Endure that from a bofom, once fo dear, 
 
 Convullive pangs the trembling Lite fhould tear ? 
 
 Oh ! fhould'ft thou, certain of the cruel truth, 
 
 Behold, in Fancy's eye, the flaughter'd Youth, 
 
 Could'ft thou that lov'd, that lovely Form furvey, 
 
 And fee it faded to infenfate Clay ? 
 
 Eternal darknefs on thofe eye-lids hung ? 
 
 Eternal filence ftiffen on that tongue ? 
 
 No ! wildly, from the bare furmife, I ftart. 
 
 And treble fondnefs rufhes thro' my heart ; 
 
 Live ! — live E u g e n lo ! — free from fierce alarms, 
 
 Bleft, if thou can'ft, e'en in my Rival's arms ! 
 
 O ! fafe, thro' lengthen'd years, may'ft thou remain 
 
 From all the varied forms of deathful Pain ! 
 
 From injur'd Honor's unrelenting ire. 
 
 The blaft of Accident, the Fever's fire I 
 
 Soft may thofe dangerous graces melt away, 
 
 And gently fink in fcarce perceiv'd decay ! 
 
 For
 
 [ 30 ] 
 For this my breafl its curelefs woes fliall hide, 
 Nor fting fraternal Love, nor generous Pride. 
 Yes, dear Lorenzo! thou £halt ftill believe, 
 Tho' much the thought thy gentle breaft vi^ill grieve, 
 Louisa, loft to tendernefs, and truth, 
 In the vain levity of thoughtlefs Youth, 
 Prov'd to EuGENio's love a cold Ingrate, 
 And lightly fplenetic defei'v d her fate. 
 
 Cruel Rememberance ! how fhall I afTuage 
 The yearning pangs of thy incefl'ant rage ? 
 What balmy comfort can the Heart pervade. 
 When bitter tears his broken faith upbraid, 
 Whofe hand, we fondly hop'd, fhould wipe away 
 Their flowing forrows thro' each future Day ? 
 Since in Refledion's grafp each Blefling dies. 
 When the forc'd ftruggling Spirit muft defpife 
 Him who, encircled with Perfedion's zone, 
 Long in our fight fcarce lefs than Angel fhone. 
 For if Credulity her warmth impart. 
 With veils of Light fhe fcreens the felfifh H^eart ; 
 
 But
 
 [ ^' ] 
 
 But barborous Perfidy's fevere extreme, 
 
 In fliades eternal, fliroiids each gorgeous beam. 
 
 On the arch'd windows thus, that proudly grace 
 An high majeflic Temple's awful face. 
 When pours the fetting Sun its darting rays. 
 An hundred folar Orbs appear to blaze ; 
 But when th' incumbent lliades of lowering Night 
 Curtain the fource of this illufive light. 
 Its evanefcent fires no more remain, 
 But Horrors gather round the darken'd Fane ; 
 The lofty Turrets, defolately grand. 
 In dreary ftate, and lonely filence ftand ; 
 Thro' the dim Ailes pale Spedres feem to fleet. 
 And hollow groans the whifpering Walls repeat. 
 
 So round Eugenio's form, that rifes yet, 
 'Mid Pride's cold frown, and PaiTion's warm reeret, 
 Depriv'd of all the luftre it retain'd. 
 When gay Belief with funny hue remain'd, 
 Inceffant now the Fiends of avarice glide. 
 
 With dark Ambition fcowling at their fide. 
 
 Detcftcd
 
 [ " ] • 
 
 Dctcfted impotence of flatter'd charms, 
 That could not bind my Wanderer to my arms ! 
 Ah ! what avail'd your beauties, but to lure 
 That fleeting Love, ye knew not to fecure ! 
 
 Like opening flow'rs, that deck the defart Glade, 
 Fair to no purpofe, flatter'd Graces fade ! — 
 One healing draught — and all fliall yet be well ! 
 " Peace is the pale-ey'd Sifl;er of the Cell," 
 The cell of DEATH — where Mifery only knows 
 The foft exemption,' — and the long repofe. 
 
 Ah no ! — a guardian Spirit feems to fay, 
 " Stay thee, Louisa, yet a little fliay ! 
 " Awake not righteous Heaven's avenging Hate 
 " By rafhly plunging in the waves of Fate ! 
 " The' Time, for woes like thine, admits no cure, 
 " Yet learn its hardeft leflbn, to endure ! 
 *^ Not long fhall life her torturing fenfe impart 
 *' Of the barb'd fhaft, that rankles in thy heart. 
 " Thou flialt not need to ftain thy fpotlefs Soul, 
 " Nor want th' enfanguin'd knife, th' envenom'd bowl ; 
 
 "Thy
 
 i 
 
 [ 23 ] 
 
 ** Thy Soul's Belov'd, by vain ambition fired, 
 " Deaf, as the Grave, to all that once infpired, 
 " To Love's foft voice, — to Honor's awful plea, 
 " Lives to another ! — and is loft to thee !" 
 
 E u G E N I o married / — Oh ! — yon Village-bell, 
 That ilings on the cold Gale its mournful knell ! 
 The folemn paufe, — the loud repeated toll, 
 Calling the pale Corfe to its darkfome goal, 
 Not plainer there the tale of Death relate. 
 Than thefe detefted words pronounce my fate ! 
 E u G E N I o married^ feals Louisa's doom, 
 Her fure, tho' lingering pafsport to the tomb ! 
 
 And thou, foft Mourner o'er my bofom's fmart ! 
 Friend of my Soul, and Sifter of my Heart ! 
 A fallen Bloffom while thy tears embalm, 
 Regrets that Fondnefs prompts, let Fondnefs calm ; 
 Since tho' this mortal Frame, Affection's flave, 
 Waftes by th' envenom'd wound that Falfehood gave, 
 I ftill poffefs, thus withering in my youth. 
 The peace of Innocence, the pride of Truth ; 
 
 E . My
 
 [ 24 ] 
 My Soul is confcious of its heavenly Sire, 
 The Cherub Faith has lent her wings of fire ; 
 Man, the bafe objed: of my fcorn, it leaves, 
 To join that gracious Power, that ne'er deceives ! 
 
 When bufy Rumours to thy ear difclofe 
 The long enfranchifement of all my woes. 
 Oh ! let thy Mind's pure eye behold me foar 
 Where Light, and Life from Springs unfailing pour ! 
 Mark the bright circlets of th' eternal Morn, 
 In radiant points, my fmiling brows adorn ! 
 By kindred Seraphs fee thy Friend embraced, 
 Not one flight thought on falfe Eugenic wafte ! 
 Yet, tho' from Pain, and Grief for ever free, 
 Throw back foft Pity's tender glance on thee ! 
 Smile at the human weaknefs of thy tears. 
 And long to welcome thee to HAPPIER SPHERES ! 
 
 END OF THE FIRST EPISTLE.
 
 SECOND EPISTLE, 
 
 E U G E N I O 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 ON HER RETURN FROM THE EAST-INDIES. 
 
 April 15, 1781. 
 
 START not, dear E m m a, at an haplefs name, 
 Veil'd to thy fenfe in perfidy and fhame ! 
 Oh ! deep indeed the mills, they long have fpread. 
 To Fancy's eye, round this devoted head ! 
 While deeper ftill the fliades of anguifli lower, 
 Drear as the Night upon the wintry Bower, 
 When bitter Winds howl feariul o'er the plains. 
 And the bright Stars are quench'd amid the rains ! 
 
 E 2 So 
 
 \
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
 So quench'd each fmiling Pleafure's rofeate ray, 
 That once illumin'd loft Eugenio's way! 
 
 But, e'er his tortur'd Soul's inceffant ftrife 
 Burft the dark confines of difaftrous Life, 
 Given, or with-held, by Emma's guardian hands. 
 As her Friend's peace hereafter beft demands, 
 Will fhe receive Eugenio's laft requeft. 
 In faithful truft for her Louisa's breaft. 
 Hear his fad ftory — that yet dares appear 
 To claim her juftice, and implore her tear ? 
 
 If fo, let now thy gentle heart incline 
 To mourn the trials, and the pangs of mine ! 
 No longer {halt thou think I bafely fold 
 My peace, my liberty, my love, for gold ; 
 That gold did purchafe them, we know too well, 
 But Oh ! no fordid facrifice they fell ! 
 Learn then thofe dire Events, whofe tyrant fway 
 Forc'd me to throw joy's vital root away. 
 Yield my Louisa to their ftern controul. 
 Gem of my youth ! and day-ftar of my foul ! 
 
 To
 
 [ ^7 ] 
 
 To thee, fo long accuftom'd to difclofe 
 Whate'er on Life the ftrengthen'd colour throws, 
 To thee Louisa queftionlefs appeal'd ; 
 Reveal'd my vows, my broken faith reveal'd ; 
 Taught thee, thro' fcenes, now pad and gone, to rove, 
 And hate the mean apoftate to his love. 
 
 Veil'd by her native Groves, I left the Maid, 
 And journied onward from that blooming Glade, 
 With eyes, full oft reverted as I pafs'd. 
 With many a look to Heaven in fervor call. 
 To implore protection for Louisa's peace, 
 Her health's dear fafety, and our love's increafe. 
 
 E'er yet I join'd the animated Train, 
 Whofe full-fraught Veffels feek the ports of Gain, 
 To that domeftic fcene I bent my way. 
 Which far in * Deva's woodland mazes lay ; 
 
 * The River Deva, celebrated by Milton, and other of our Poets, rifes in Merioneth- 
 (hire, and flows thro' mountainous and beautiful fcenery, ftill^ as it is faid, retaining its 
 original name. In Chefliire it affumes that of Dee, which led fome of the Commentators 
 on the firft Edition of this Poem to fuppofe the Villa of Ernefto in that county j but the 
 author meant to place it in Wales, on the banks of the Deva, before it changes its title 
 for one fo much lefs harmojuou-, and waters a country mere fertile, but much kfs lovely,' 
 
 A rural
 
 [,^8 ] 
 
 A rural kind Retreat from all the cares, 
 Which bufy Commerce for her Sons prepares. 
 Tranflucent Dev^a the green Valley laves, 
 And darkling Alders fcreen her wandering waves, 
 Till flow flie rifes from o'er-hanging Shades, 
 And, feen at diftance, thro' the opening Glades, 
 With bank lefs veil'd, and ftreams that mildly fhine. 
 Leads round the lonely Hills her filver line. 
 
 In that fweet Dale, and by a Mountain's fide, 
 Whofe fheltering heights the angry North deride, 
 Abode, fo late, of Cheerfulnefs and Eafe, 
 White gleams the Manfion thro' the waving Trees ! 
 Tall are the Trees that whifper round its Walls, 
 And foft the pathway down the Valley falls ! 
 Oh ! how each charm, that decks the quiet fcene, 
 AiTum'd new grace, and wore a fofter mein. 
 From the bleft thought, that foon the nuptial Hour 
 Would lead Louisa to my native bower ! 
 
 'Twas there my gentle Parents often knew 
 The calm fweet Night, the Day that lightly flew ; 
 
 And
 
 [ 29 ] 
 
 And there the heart-felt pleafure gaily fhew'd 
 
 EuGENio's welcome to the green abode. 
 
 A Father's elevating gladnefs proved 
 
 How dear the prefence of the Son he loved. 
 
 My gentle Mother, archly fmiling, preft 
 
 The love-fick Wanderer to her honor'd breaft ; 
 
 For fo fhe fondly call'd her darling Youth, 
 
 Yet lov'd his ardor, and approv'd his truth. 
 
 My Sifters, fair, ingenuous, graceful Maids, 
 
 Til' acknowledg'd pride of all the neighbouring Shades, 
 
 Met me with bounding ftep, and joyous mein. 
 
 And rays of tranfport brightened all the fcene. 
 
 Nor wilt thou, mighty Love ! upbraid my Heart, 
 For bearing in their joys fo warm a part ; 
 Since no ambition gloom'd my Father's brow. 
 No thirft of wealth reproach'd my plighted vow j 
 He fcorn'd to name Louisa's want of gold. 
 But gladly liftened while her worth I told. 
 Pleas'd has he feen her in this melting eye, 
 Pleas'd with her name, half whifpered in a figh j. 
 
 Then
 
 [ 30 ] 
 Then would I grafp his hand, and ardent fay, 
 *' Oft fhall my Parents blefs our bridal Day, 
 «' Since from that Soul of fweetnefs, they fliall fhare 
 " A Daughters tendernefs, an Angel's care; 
 " For her's each Virtue, and each Grace refin'd, 
 " That breathe on Lovelinefs the glow of Mind, 
 " And, with afTiduous Duty's cheering pow'r, 
 " Strew Life's worn path with ev'ry filial fiow'r." 
 
 One Eve, as on the fhady bank I rode. 
 Where thro' new Dales the beauteous Deva flow'd, 
 Loitering I liften to the Red-breaft clear. 
 The laft, lone Songfter of the waining Year. 
 Licrht o'er the leaves fweet Autumn breathes ferene, 
 
 to 
 
 And tips with gold their yet unfaded green. 
 Now many a vapor grey the flream exhales, 
 And Twilight fteals unheeded on the Vales ; 
 O'er the hill-top the lines of crimfon run,' 
 The glowing raiments of the vanifh'd Sun ; 
 Nor yet the deep'ning fhades of Night impede 
 My roving courfe, which penlive mufmgs lead, 
 
 What
 
 [ 31 ] 
 
 What time the * Moon of Ceres mildly throws 
 Her fhadowy grace, and breathes her foft repofe 
 O'er the dark Shrubs, that clothe the rocky Steeps, 
 Shelve from their tops, and fringe the cryftal Deeps 3 
 While, as around thofe Rocks the River c^lides. 
 White moon-beams tremble in the glancing tides. 
 
 Sudden, wild founds are borne along the gales ! 
 The piercing fhriek my ftartled ear afTails ! 
 But fcarce a moment, with check'd rein, I ftand, 
 Th' uplifted cane grafp'd fternly in my hand, 
 E'er bending forward o'er my eager Horfe, 
 Urging, with needlefs fpur, his rapid courfe, 
 And plunging thro' the deep, oppofing flood, 
 I pierce the tangled mazes of the Wood. 
 On fibrous Oaks, that roughen all the ground, 
 My Steed's fleet hoofs, with hollow noife, refound ; 
 And doubled by the echos from the cav^es, 
 Appal a guilty band of defperate Slaves ; 
 For foon, in ruthlefs, felon-gripe, I found 
 A beauteous Female, fcreaming on the ground ; 
 
 * Afoen of Ceres, the Harveft Aloon. 
 
 F Dragg'd
 
 [ 3^ ] 
 Dra<To-'d from her Horfe, that graz'd unconfcious near, 
 Her treiTes torn, and frantic with her fear. 
 Two liveried Youths, attendant on the Maid, 
 At the firft onfet in that gloomy Glade, 
 Had, or feduced by Gold, or wing'd by dread. 
 From danger, and from duty, coward fled. 
 
 Alarm'd, the Villains quit their ftruggling Prey, 
 And two, with terror ftruck, fpeed faft away. 
 Fiercer the third, the arm of blood extends ; 
 The levell'd tube, in dire direction, bends ! 
 Yet no cold fear arrefts my vengeful force, 
 And his wing'd death-ball flies with erring courfe ; 
 But not defcends my nervous blow in vain, 
 The hidden lead indents the Murderer's brain ; 
 With one demoniac glance, as down he fell. 
 The Soul ftarts furious from its vital cell. 
 
 Then tender pity, and afliduous care, 
 Conduft me fwiftly to the fwooning Fair. 
 The light, cool drops, fcoop'd from the neighbouring fpring, 
 O'er her pale brow felicitous I fling j 
 
 Till
 
 [ 33 ] 
 Till Life's warm tide, which long the Heart detains, 
 Returns, ilow purpling the forfaken veins. 
 
 In one deep figh, as Recollection came, 
 It wakens Gratitude's impetuous flame. 
 
 " For more than Life," exclaims the trembling Maid, 
 *' I ftand indebted to thy generous aid." 
 
 * Ceafe, Fair-One, ceafe.- — ^well might this arm deferve 
 ' That deadlieft Palfies wither ev'ry nerve, 
 
 * Had it refus'd the aid to thee it gave, 
 
 ' Or coward fhunn'd the duty of the Brave ! 
 ' But let me now, flnce danger haunts delay, 
 
 * To fafer fcenes my lovely Charge convey. 
 
 ' Deep in yon vale, Ernesto's modeft Dome 
 ' Lifts its fair head — my tranquil, happy home ! 
 ' There ev'ry welcome fhall her fteps receive, 
 ' That hofpitable affluence knows to give.' 
 
 This faid, her trembling Form, with anxious haftc, 
 My twining arms on her light Courfer placed ; 
 
 F 2 Then,
 
 [ 34 ] 
 Then, as emerging from the darkling Wood, 
 Along the moon-bright Dales we flowly rode, 
 Surprised his gorgeous trappings I behold, 
 The net of Silver, and the thongs of gold ; 
 While all the veftments of the lovely Dame 
 The pride of elevated rank proclaim. 
 The coftly lace had golden leaves impreft 
 Light on the borders of the pearly veft ; 
 Her taper waift the broider'd zone entv/ines, 
 Clafp'd by a Gem, the boaft of Orient Mines ; 
 On as we pafs, on ev'ry fide it gleams. 
 And to the Moon, in trembling luftre, flreams ! 
 
 Dear E m m a, that the fplendid garb could gain, 
 E'en in an hour exempt from grief and pain 
 Th' attentive gaze, proves my devoted heart 
 From eyes fo bright met no relifllefs dart ; 
 For when the Maid Love's potent c.eftus wears, 
 The jealous God no glance dividual bears. 
 
 Ah ! in thofe ha!(pyon days, a Mind at eafe 
 Empower' d flight things to intereft, and to pleafe ; 
 
 That
 
 [ 35 ] 
 That Memory iliould their faded tints relume, 
 When Deprivation's deepeft fhadovvs gloom, 
 Perhaps feems ftrange ! — but now, that full, and free, 
 My long imprifon'd Spirit fprings to thee. 
 Friend of my Love ! to whom I dare reveal 
 All that my Soul has felt, or knows to feel, 
 So foften'd feem th' afperities of Grief, 
 My Senfes anchor on the kind relief i 
 With trivial circumftance retard the pen. 
 E'er languid Solitude fliall lower again ; 
 For oh ! when loft in woes of lengthen'd date, 
 Alone we've lean'd upon the thorn of Fate, 
 Seeking, at laft, the kind aflualive reft, 
 Found only on Compaffion's downy breaft. 
 We feel, as foft th' imparted Sorrows flow, 
 Almoft difcharg'd the bitternefs of Woe. 
 
 Within Ernesto's hofpitable gates, 
 Alarm'd at my delay, Affedion waits ; 
 But as I lead the bright diftinguifh'd Maid, 
 Explain her danger, and my profperous aid. 
 
 The
 
 The dear Inhabitants around her move, 
 With deep refpedt, kind care, and generous love. 
 
 And foon we learn, our peaceful walls contain 
 The fplendid Hcirefs of a vaft Domain, 
 Em IRA, fhe, whofe wealth, and charms infpire, 
 The croud of titled Youth with amorous fire \ 
 While Rumour paints her, 'midft th' obfequious Train, 
 Tho' frolic, infolent ; tho' haughty, vain. 
 But to our eyes, thefe wild and wandering fires 
 Are fcreen'd by rifing Hopes, and gay Defires ; 
 For ftill, the parting Hour with care delay'd, 
 Emir A loiters in Ernesto's fliade ; 
 The noon-tide Sun, the Evening's fofter ray 
 Beholds the Fair-One thro' the Valley ftray ; 
 Thus, on * Matilda leaning, fondly own 
 Her Heart's new choice in Paflion's warmeft tone. 
 
 " Loft to the World, for ever could I dwell 
 *' In the dear precindis of this fy Ivan Cell ; 
 
 * EuGENio's Sifter. 
 
 '' Renounce
 
 [ 37 ] 
 " Renounce each vain, tho' once ador'd delight, 
 " That diffipatcs the Day, or gilds the Night ; 
 " That can each gay feducing art employ, 
 " To flatter Beauty, and infpirit Joy." 
 
 Thus the proud Maid, of all her fcorn difarm'd, 
 By ftrange, and partial preference ftrongly charm'd, 
 Feels a new Eden fteal upon the bowers, 
 And chides with flghs the fwiftly fleeting Hours ; 
 Still at the cheerful Board, or as flie roves 
 Along the Plain, or lingers in the Groves, 
 Each glowing wifli, from new-born Paflion fprung, 
 Each foft diforder, on her eye-lids hung, 
 At my approach reveal, tho' much in vain, 
 What words are little wanted to explain. 
 Vain ! had I never feen the matchlefs srace. 
 The touching fweetnefs of Louisa's face; 
 Where from each feature beams, or mildly plays, 
 Refined intelligence, with varying rays ; 
 Where native dignity, with air ferene, 
 Confcious, not arrogant, adorns her mein ; 
 
 While
 
 [ 3« ] 
 While from thofe eyes, in fcorn of artful wiles, 
 The tender fpotlefs Soul looks out, and fmiles. — 
 Thefe unbeheld, yet ftill Emira's charms 
 Had ne'er allur'd E u g e n i o to her arms ; 
 For oh ! the fever'd languor of the eye, 
 The reftlefs blufhes, the voluptuous figh, 
 Th' impatient haughtinefs, but half conceal'd. 
 The rage of pleafure in each glance reveal'd, 
 Tho' in youth's fervid hours, perchance they fire 
 The kindling ardours of unaw'd Defire, 
 Quench, while the tranfient flames their force impart, 
 The torch of Paffion, e'er it reach the Heart. 
 
 'Twas thus the youthful Ithacan furvey'd 
 The Goddefs Nymph, beneath her magic Shade ; 
 While Eucharis' mild beauties foil'd the fvvay 
 Of charms, that deck'd the Daughter of the Day ; 
 By Love proteded, when the Princely Boy 
 Beheld the Dame her wonted lures employ ; 
 Saw her fine Form, by all the Graces dreft. 
 The glowing purple of the floating veft. 
 
 And
 
 [ 39 ] 
 
 And on her blooming cheek the treflcs bright, 
 That play'd in wavy wreaths of golden light, 
 Or on her fnowy bofom, fliining fell, 
 Like a warm Sun-beam on a Lilly's bell. 
 
 Not more Emira's charms my Soul engage. 
 The fair Calypfo of a fenfual age ; 
 And than licentious Beauty lefs, the ftores 
 That fplendid Fortune on Emir a pours ; 
 Or the proud boaft of lineal Blood, allied 
 To Rank, and Pow'r, could wake that fenfelefs Pride, 
 Which quenches the foft warmth that Love infpires, 
 And lights the nuptial torch with raylefs fires. 
 
 To fave the Fair-One from the thorny fmart 
 Of hopelefs PafTion, rankling in her heart, 
 I urge my gentle Sifters to reveal 
 All my charm'd fenfes for Louisa feel; 
 The worth, the graces, which around her wait, 
 And all the fmiling profpedl of our fate. 
 
 G E M 1 R A
 
 [ +° ] 
 
 E M I R A liftens with impaflion'd fcorn, 
 Of wounded Pride, and rival Anger born. 
 Unwiili'd, unwelcome, as the theme arofe, 
 Her clouded cheek in deep fuffuiion glows, 
 Proudly exclaiming,' — "Can Eugenio prove 
 " Cold, and obdurate to my lavifli Love? 
 " Has Beauty's magic zone my bofom bound, 
 " Does Rank exalt me, and has Fortune crown'd, 
 " That faint attractions in a Village Maid 
 " Should fhield the Paflions which thefe eyes invade •'' 
 " Impoflible ! — but oh! thy lips impart 
 " The fting of jealoufy, that goads my heart. 
 "Matilda, all my waking dreams divine 
 " Thy charming Brother fhall at length be mine ! 
 " This groveling flame was but ordain'd to prove 
 " Thy Friend's willi'd triumph at the (hrine of Love, 
 " And by comparifon of brighter charms, 
 " To light Eugenio to Emira's arms." 
 
 Thus, while felf-flatt'ring Pride her Mind afiures, 
 The artful Fair-One fpreads her varied lures ; 
 
 Sometimes,
 
 [ 41 ] 
 
 Sometimes, with archnefs laughing in her eyes, 
 
 Hangs on my arm, and ridicules my fighs ; 
 
 And oft with coyer tendcrnefs appears. 
 
 While Love's warm glances fteal thro' fliining tears ; 
 
 Now, with arch'd brow, and fupercilious ftare, 
 
 Affedls the emprefs-dignity of air ; 
 
 And now, as reafoning with a wayward Heart, 
 
 In trances, broken by the frequent ftart, 
 
 With paufing ftep fhe wanders thro' the Grove, 
 
 A female Proteus in the wiles of Love ! 
 
 To mufe at leifure on my lovely Maid, 
 And woo her image in the lonely Glade, 
 Where no Emir a, by the rigid laws 
 Politenefs didlates, my attention draws. 
 Far in the Wilds I wander thro' the Day, 
 And to a lowly Cot at midnight ftray ; 
 There tafte the fweetnefs of that deep repofe, 
 Which from applauding Confcience gently flows, 
 When Health, and Hope their downy pinions fpread. 
 And fcatter rofes on the youthful bed. 
 
 G 2 Light
 
 [ 4-2 ] 
 Light with the Dawn difperfe my tender dreams ; 
 And now the Sun looks g-olden on the ftreams ! — 
 O Morn ! the lafh for me that gaily role, 
 On Memory's tablet ftill thy beauty glows. 
 Charm'dj as I wander'd thro' the dewy Vale, 
 And drank the fpirit of the Mountain-gale, 
 How little did my unconfcious heart divine, 
 The joys thou gav'fl fhould ne'er again be mine ! 
 
 On as I rov'd along the winding Glades, 
 A Youth in hafte the fylvan Copfe pervades ! 
 Says, his commiflion inflantly recalls 
 My devious ftep to the paternal walls. 
 Upon the ruflic countenance appears 
 A fix'd folemnity, that wakes my fears. — 
 *' Oh ! is all well ?"■ — with breathlefs hafte I cry, 
 *' Thy Friends are well," — his faltering lips reply j 
 Then dread, left fad intelligence invade 
 The precious quiet of my native Shade, 
 Sickens my heart ; — and fwifcly as I go. 
 From my pale lip diforder'd accents flow ; 
 
 Each
 
 [ 43 ] 
 Each moment, for Louisa's Life, arife 
 Prayers, that implore the mercies of the Skies. 
 
 And now my quick, unequal fteps are led, 
 A Day of gladnefs where they us'd to fpread ; 
 But ah ! no filver tones E u g e n i o call ! 
 No bounding foot-ftep meets me in the hall ! 
 Sufpenfe, with all its heavy heart-ach, teems, 
 And palpable the folemn ftillnefs feems ! 
 
 So, when returning from the well-fought plain. 
 As near thy Caftle-walls thou led'ft thy Train, 
 O * Hardiknute ! fuch pangs as thefe oppreft. 
 In Hope's warm hour, thy brave, and veteran breaft. 
 Along the midnight glooms, that thick impend. 
 While howls the Storm, the beating Rains defcend, 
 Thou fee'ft no Guard upon thy turrets height, 
 Whofe ftreaming torches us'd to gild the night ! 
 Black, as a mourning weed, they filent ftand. 
 And daunt the ftouteft heart in Scotia's Land ! 
 
 * See the admired fcotch fragment, Hardiknotk, in Percy's collection of ancient poetry. 
 
 Appaird,
 
 [ 44 ] 
 
 Appaird, like him, I felt the ftillnefs dire ; 
 Eager to learn — not daring to enquire, 
 As one transfix'd, a few dread minutes wait. 
 While lilent Horror fhrouds impending Fate I 
 
 My Father enter'd — with a cheek how pale ! 
 And oh ! that look ! — it told an awful tale ! 
 'Twas mournful ! — fupplicating ! — " Heavenly Powers ! 
 " In that dim gaze how deep an anguifh lowers ! 
 " Louisa! lives fhe ?" — dreading the reply, 
 My Soul hung trembling in my ftraining eye. 
 
 " My Son, the fweet Louisa lives, — and knows, 
 *' I hope, the peace that Innocence beflows ; 
 " Oh ! may it long be her's ! — but now remains 
 *' A tafk for me, replete with fharpeft pains ! — 
 "EuGENiol — Penury's dire blafts aflail, 
 " And Hope is frozen in the bitter gale ! 
 ** Yes, — B E L M o R has deceiv'd my boundlefs truft, 
 " To Friendfhip treacherous, and to Faith unjufl: ! 
 " Unhappy Hour, when Confidence intire 
 '' Lur'd me to follow that mi/leading fire. 
 
 " Thofe
 
 [ 45 ] 
 " Thofe gay commercial vifions, falfe, and vain, 
 *' The glittering meteors of his artful brain ! 
 " Too well he knew no genuine light they gave, 
 " And now they fink in Ruin's whelming wave ! 
 
 " Oh ! great, and numberlefs the Ills, that fpread 
 " Their mingled horrors round this aged head ! 
 " The pang of feeing thy fweet Sifters, born 
 " To faireft hopes, from eafe, and affluence torn ! 
 '* Expos'd to all thofe guileful fnares, that wait 
 " The beauteous Indigent's difaftrous fate ! 
 " Ills, whofe bare dread a Father's bofom tears, 
 " And blends with agony his anxious cares. 
 '* Thy dearer Mother !" — Here he turn'd his head 
 And pauiing wept ; — at length refuming, faid, 
 
 " Thefe hovering woes, that o'er our houfe impend, 
 *' Thou, my dear Son, e'er their dread weight defcend, 
 " Thou canft avert ! — but oh ! at what a price ! 
 " Perfuaflon fliall not urge — nor prayers intice, 
 
 *' Two
 
 [ 46 ] 
 *< Two hours e'er thy return, Emir a found 
 *' Thy Sifters eyes in ftreaming torrents drown'd ; 
 " Learn'd, from their trembling lips, the cruel Caufe, 
 " Which the dark cloud of confternation draws ' 
 " Wide o'er my Roof — that yefterday furvey'd, 
 *' Domeftic Comfort's fair, and favorite fliade. 
 
 " We know that Fortune on Emir a pours 
 *' Her golden treafures in unftinted fhowers. — 
 " E u G E N I o ! — fhe ftands ready to replace 
 " Thy Father's comforts on a lafting bafe ! 
 *' Refcue his falling Fame !■ — -the numbers fave, 
 " Whofe hopes in his deftrudtion find a grave ; 
 *' And light, while Woe's dark cloud her wealth removes, 
 *' Joy's living fpark in many an eye he loves ! 
 ** But at the price — Great God ! — thy Father's fears 
 ** Shrink from the found, and whelm it with his tears ! 
 By fharp Diftrefs at laft to name it driven ! — 
 Thy hand to her, — e'en at the ALTAR given ! — 
 " Alas ! th' impoflibility e'en now 
 *' Glooms in the grief, the horror of thy brow ! — 
 
 " Oh! 

 
 C 47 j 
 *' Oh ! for myfelf — I could not wiiK to gain 
 " Exemption from the fharpeft earthly pain, 
 " By banifliing each hope, his Love had won, 
 " From the kind, duteous bofom of my Son ! 
 " But for their dearer fakes who fall with me, 
 *' Perhaps I dare — to hope e'en this from thee. 
 
 *' Thou know'fl:,when Peace, and Plenty's jocund Powers 
 " Hung their ripe clufters round our blooming bowers, 
 " The joys that Love, not thofe which Wealth impart, 
 " Form'd the warm wifh for thee, that fiU'd my heart ; 
 *' But now — EuGENio liften ! — could'ft thou bear 
 *' Louisa's breaft this weight of woes fhould fliare ? 
 " Would'ft thou the bloflbms of her youth tranfplant 
 '* Into the blafting foil of worldly Want? 
 *' Whofe pangs, tho' ne'er her foft complaints reveal, 
 *' She will not therefore lefs feverely feel ; 
 " Since when a breaft, far dearer than our own, 
 " Receives the darts by that fell Demon thrown, 
 " Faft wafting health, and fpirits broke, will prove, 
 '< Far from extracted, they are barb'd by Love." 
 
 H Here
 
 [ +8 ] 
 
 Here fighs, that feem'd to iliake bis frame, betray'd 
 How deep he felt the forrows he pourtray'd ; 
 But yet, tho' flill his heart with anguifh bled, 
 FaiFd fpeech recovering foon, again he faid, 
 
 *' It is not much my waining Life's remains 
 " Should fhorten'd fink by Penury's cruel pains ; 
 " Ah ! rather could I bear their utmoft ftrife, 
 *' Than wifh to quench the torch that gilds thy Life, 
 *' Sweet Pojfibility ! which yet appears, 
 " Borne on th' eventful flight of days, and years, 
 " Whofe chance propitious might each bar remove 
 " Or Induftry reftore the joys of Love ; 
 " Tho' fharp the confcioufnefs, that B e l m o r's art 
 *' Aluft to my Fame the deadlieft wound impart ! 
 *' For oh ! the Many, who their ruin owe 
 " To my rafh hopes unhappy overthrow, 
 " Will, without fcruple, think by fraud I won 
 " The confidence, which drew that ruin on. 
 
 " Hard to refign, for fuch opprobrious blame, 
 " The honefl triumph of a fpotlefs name j 
 
 ** E'en
 
 [ 49 ] 
 ** E'en when the Heart dares to itfelf appeal 
 " From blind Injuftice, and mifguided Zeal ! 
 " Their torrent Reafon ftrives to ftem in vain, 
 " Truth pleads to Air, if Prejudice arraign. 
 " Her cenfures daily level with the Bafe 
 " A thoiifand names, no adlual crimes difgrace ; 
 " Pull down the fame a Life of virtue built, 
 " And ilamp Imprudence with the brand of Guilt. 
 *' And yet, I would not afk my Child to fave 
 " From Pains, that feem to rob of reft the Grave^ 
 " My haplefs Spirit, at a price fo great, 
 " To fhade perchance with deeper gloom his fate ! 
 "But, oh! my lov'd Eugenio! — from a woe, 
 " Sharper, I truft, than thou wilt ever know, 
 " My Senfe recoils ! — my Wife ! — my deareft Wife I 
 " The fweet Companion of my lengthen'd Life ! 
 " Thy Mother ! — for whofe peace, and health, my cares, 
 " My fond attention, my inceflant prayers 
 " The Day, and Night beheld ! — Oh ! muft I fee 
 *' That dear One pine in helplcfs Poverty ? 
 '< While pale, and trembling, finks the vital flame, 
 " Muft her loft, delicate, and feeble Frame, 
 
 H 2 "To
 
 [ 50 ] 
 *' To Charity's donation, cold, and fcant, 
 " Owe its exemption from extremefl: want? 
 *' Can I fee this- — unable to obtain 
 '' Tliofe common comforts the Laborious gain, 
 *' Confcious, my own infatuated raflinefs fhed 
 " This bitter phial on her gentle head ? 
 '*' My Son ! — my Son !" — Then, on my fhoulder thrown, 
 Heart-fmote, and wan, he heav'd the bitter groan. 
 
 Oh ! while thefe arms their honoured Burden preft, 
 As his funk cheek felt cold upon my breaft. 
 What words can paint the deep diflrefs I bore. 
 What Horror fmote me, and what Anguifh tore ? 
 
 And could I fee the Author of my birth 
 Thus bend in woe the hoary head to Earth ; 
 Round his weak Frame fuch whelming anguifh rage, 
 Nor fnatch from the dread ftorm his failing age, 
 Becaufe my Hopes — my Peace- — perhaps my Life 
 Were doom'd to perifh in the filial ftrife ? 
 Impoflible ! — the fofter PaiHons fly. 
 Nor dare difTolve great Nature's primal tie. 
 
 n 
 
 Be
 
 [ 51 ] 
 
 *' Be comforted, my Father ! — could thy Son, 
 " Oh ! could he live to fee thee thus undone, 
 *' Endure the knowledge, that when Fortune gave 
 " The power to lave thee, he refus'd to fave ? 
 *' The torturing felf-reproach mufl rend his brain, 
 " And wake to phrenzy the remorfeful pain. 
 " But O my Love ! — yet pardon me ! — I go 
 " Alone to ftem conflitling tides of woe ! 
 " I gOj to teach my Soul her arduous tafk, 
 " And gain by prayer the fortitude I afk !" 
 
 So faying, to his couch my Sire I led. 
 And fmooth'd the pillow for his languid head. 
 With fofter tears his trembling eye-balls flione. 
 And falterino; accents ardent bleft his Son. 
 
 Then up the Mountain's fteep, and craggy fide, 
 With ftep precipitate, I wildly ftride ; 
 Now ftung with tortures of the laft defpair ; 
 Now funk in grief; — now energiz'd by prayer; 
 Nor yet in vain th' heart rending efforts prove, 
 Warm Duty rifes over bleeding Love ! 
 
 The
 
 [ 5= ] 
 
 The ftruggle pail ! — my peace ! — my freedom given ! 
 Thy anchor Hope, on {horelefs oceans driven ! 
 What then to Juftice, or to Love remain'd, 
 But to reftore the heart, mv v*ows had o-ain'd ? 
 Wrench from Louisa's breaft its cherifh'd bane, 
 And nobly the laft facrifice fuftain ? 
 Renounce her pity, and infpire her hate. 
 In tenfold gloom, tho' it involve my fate ? 
 Teach her to think the Villain-bafenefs mine, 
 That bows the venal Heart at Fortune's fhrine ? 
 So might th' indio;nant fenfe of barter'd Truth 
 Quench the difaftrous Paflion of her Youth ; 
 Now doom'd to darken every Hope, that cheers, 
 With flilning promifes, the rifing years ! 
 Had I the dread neceflity explain'd. 
 That with reiiftlefs force my freedom chain'd ; 
 Tore the fweet bands, by virtuous Paflion tied, 
 And ftamp'd our Conftancy with Paricide ; 
 Then had Louisa fortified my Soul, 
 And urg'd my ling'ring ftep to Duty's goal ; 
 Had given me back, with Pity's foftefl: brow. 
 Of Love fo ruinous, the ill-ftarr'd vow ; 
 
 A felf-
 
 [ 53 ] 
 
 A felf-devoted Exile fled my arms, 
 
 But forrowing fled them, and reflgn'd her charms 
 
 To fruitlefs Conftancy, and fond Regret j 
 
 Ordain'd to mourn — unable to forget ; 
 
 That pine in Solitude the live-long Day, 
 
 Feed on the heart, and fl:eal the life away. 
 
 Louisa's pity had my fuflferings found, 
 Somewhat it fure had balm'd th' embofom'd wound j 
 But flnce e'en her dear fympathy was weak, 
 Of Fate's dread fhaft th' envenom'd point to break, 
 I ftrove to avert the flow-confuming pain, 
 And for the confli6l, arm'd her with difdain ; 
 That cruel conflid, which the Pafllons prove, 
 E'er high-foul'd Scorn fubdues a rooted Love. 
 
 Still, to my Being's latefl: verge, be borne 
 The dear, miftaken Maid's unceafing fcorn ; 
 Oh ! be they borne in this unhappy breaft. 
 To the cold bed of its eternal reft ! 
 
 Near
 
 [ 5+ ] 
 
 Near feems that reft my wearied Life defires, 
 Pain breaks her fprings, and Sicknefs dims her fires, 
 And Hope, who comes in fable veft array'd, 
 Points, with pale hand, to Death's eternal fhade I 
 
 But yet, — when paft the expiatory doom, 
 When Mifery's fhafts lie broken on my tomb, 
 Th' exploring gaze, fweet E m m a, kindly bend 
 On the dear bofom of thy beauteous Friend ; 
 If thou fhalt mark, that cold contempt fuftains 
 That feat of foftnefs from aflaulting Pains ; 
 That no dim tears her cheek's warm rofes pale, 
 No fighs of anguifli fwell the lonely gale, 
 Whofe murmurs o'er the grafs-green fod fhall rife. 
 Where, cold, and peaceful, loft Eugenio lies, 
 Then, that thou name me 7iot^ my Soul implores, 
 Nor fnatch the peace away Difdain reftores ; 
 The cruel change thy tendernefs will fear, 
 Of Pride's ftern frown, for Pity's heart-wrung tear. 
 Oh ! fhall one felfifli wifh her peace invade 
 That Love fo agoniz'd may footh my fhade ? 
 
 No,
 
 [ 55 ] 
 No, Emma, no! — my Soul for her's fliall wait, 
 Till foft it pafs the everlafting Gate ; 
 From thofe dear Eyes till Light Divide fliall clear, 
 The film, that mortal Chance had darken'd there ; 
 Fond Memory's deep reproach for aye remove, 
 And pleading Seraphs reunite our Love ! 
 
 But Oh ! fliould Pity, with intruiive fway, 
 Range her fad Images in dire array, 
 And to Louisa's mental fig-ht difclofe 
 The bed of Death — the agonizing throes ; 
 Oil ! fhould fhe think fhe fees in ftruggles rife 
 That breath, which wak'd for her the fondeft fighs ! 
 Thofc Eyes, whofe foftnefs fhall no more betray, 
 Throw their laft glances on the final day ! — 
 In fuch an hour, fhould Scorn, and Anger prove 
 Weak to difpel the grief-awaken'd Love ; 
 Sorrowing for him, who could her hopes deceive, 
 Should file, in bitternefs of Spirit, grieve 
 For Guilt, which, unextenuated, rears 
 Barriers to laft beyond this Vale of tears ; 
 Then, Emma, then, the fad events relate, 
 That wove the fable texture of our fate. 
 
 I My
 
 t 56 1 
 
 My dear Louisa! — pardon him, who flrove 
 By means, fo feeming harfh, to quench thy Love I 
 Hard was the taflc, that kindnefs to refign^ 
 Which my torn bofom could demand of thine ; 
 Efteem, that might have borne eternal date, 
 Since placed, by Virtue, paft the reach of Fate ; 
 That blefs'd compailion, my fid lot had won, 
 A Wretch by Fortune, not by Crimes undone ; 
 Thefe to renounce ! — with my own hand to throw 
 In her dark chalice added dregs of woe; 
 To pierce my Soul with voluntary pains, 
 A Suicide on Comfort's laft remains, 
 Was "hard ! — ^^but generous Love the effort made. 
 Thy quiet afk'd j — I trembled — and obey'd ! 
 
 When to that purer World our Souls are borne, 
 Where every veil from every breaft Is torn. 
 My willing Spirit, in the Realms above. 
 Shall meet the fearching Eye of wounded Love ; 
 To thee Louisa my paft woes impart, 
 And hear thy Angel Voice ABSOLVE MY HEART. 
 
 END OF rUE SECOND EPISTLE.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 O U I S A 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 WRITTEN THE DAY AFTER SHE HAD RECEIVD FROM HER 
 EUGENIO's EXCULPATING LETTER. 
 
 April 21ft, 1781. 
 
 01 Thou foft Hope, that once with luftre gay 
 Did'ft gild the hours of Love's delicious day, 
 What, tho' no more the lively joy remains, 
 That traced thy light ftep o'er thefe earthly plains, 
 Yet, piercing now Defpair's incumbent fliroud, 
 Soft Hope, thou lookefi: from yon parting cloud ; 
 And my lov'd E m m a's hand the viHon fhews, 
 That fmiles my rtruggling Spirit to repofe ! 
 Bright in Eugenio's vindicated truth. 
 That vifion lights anew my drooping youth j 
 
 I 2 For,
 
 [ 58 ] 
 
 For, in perfpeftive beauteous, it difplays 
 A long eternity of blifsfui days ; 
 Of all tliofe facred joys our Souls' fhall prove 
 '' When pleading Seraphs reunite our love." 
 
 'Tis true, Eugenio, thro' Life's thorny way, 
 In far divided paths our fteps fhall ftray ; 
 It is not given us, when rude blafts allail. 
 And pale Misfortune breathes the bitter gale, 
 It is not given, to temper, and afTuage, 
 Each for the other's breafl:, its cruel rage ; 
 Nor mutually to feel the cheering rays. 
 When Health, and Joy infpirit Summer-days. 
 Our little Barks, their flattering Port in view. 
 Fate, on Life's billowy furge, afunder threw ; 
 Friend of my foul ! we are not doom'd to gain 
 The funny Ifle of that tempeftuous Main ; 
 But O ! thy Virtue, long imagin'd loft, 
 Has felt the wreck of no inliduous coaft ! 
 The deep and troubled floods, it knew to brave ! 
 It rifes buoyant on the ftormy waves ! 
 
 Vain
 
 [ 59 ] 
 
 Vain are thofe Storms, by which its courfe is driven 
 Since fure, tho' diftant, is the port of Heaven. 
 
 My dear E u g e n i o, the dread Voice will prove 
 .Indulgent to the frail excefs of Love, 
 Which to fuch fad extremes would blindly run, 
 Lavifh of health, and fickening at the Sun ; 
 Since, while an unaccufing Confciencc threw 
 Th' eternal portals open to my view. 
 My Spirit funk, a prey to fond Defpair, 
 And coldly view'd that Heaven thou could'ft not fhare ; 
 Soil'd with its griefs thofe amaranthine flowers, 
 Inwove by Faith in bright Religion's bowers. 
 Angel of Mercy ! thou wilt gently breathe 
 Exhaling lighs upon that fuUied wreath ; 
 And the dim ftains of my impatient tears, 
 Impaflion'd yearnings, and defponding fears, 
 Shall vanifh, as chill dews that Morning- throws. 
 By Summer Winds are wafted from the Rofe ! 
 
 O ! how o'er-joy'd my dazzled fight furvcy'd 
 Thefe words, in Emma's charatlers pourtray'd, 
 
 " He
 
 [ 6° 1 
 
 *' He is not guilty !" — rapid from my tongue 
 They, In exulting iteration, fprung. 
 *' Read, dear Louisa, and acquit the Heart, 
 " That bears in all thy griefs fo large a Part." 
 
 Think'ft thou, my Emma, thy benign command 
 Met an unwilling eye, a tardy hand ? 
 Heaven ! with what force thefe hands, thefe eyes, impell'd, 
 Seize the known charaders, fo long with-held ! 
 While every letter, e'er examin'd, wears 
 Th' uninjur'd magic of the vanifh'd years ! 
 Diforder'd founds my lips pronounce, nor fpare 
 The ufelefs queftion to th' unconfcious air. 
 " Does that dear hand yet trace Louisa's name ? 
 *' Will it his Love, his Innocence proclaim ? 
 " How may this be? — yet Emma f.iys 'tis fo." 
 Then did I read, and v/eep, and throb, and glow, 
 Approve, abfolve, admire, and fmile, and fi.gh. 
 Till penfive Peace fhone mildly in my eye ; 
 Back v^-ith that loft efteem, my heart deplor'd. 
 The "Wanderer came, with half her rights reftor'd. 
 
 So
 
 [ 6. ] 
 
 So lucklefs Clairmont's thorny path fhe fmooths j. 
 So his {harp fenfe of many an ill fhc Tooths ; 
 One dear recover'd Hope his grief beguiles, 
 And, 'midft the wreck of all the reft, he fmiles. 
 E \i M A, thou knew'ft him well ; — the jocund Youth, 
 Ambition's Votary, yet of taintlefs truth. 
 Lur'd by the wealth the glowing Andes hide, 
 He long'd to pafs the interpofmg tide. 
 Remembrance fees him on the Sea-beach fland. 
 His fair Clarissa weeping on his hand. 
 AVith anxious fmiles her varying cheek he dries, 
 And talks of profperous Winds, and fav^oring Skies. 
 Clear was the Sky, and gentle were the Gales, 
 And wide and waving flream'd the fnowy Sails; 
 While, toiTmg the green fea-weed o'er, and o'er, 
 Crept the hufli'd billow on the fhelly fhore ; 
 Soft as th' autumnal breeze among the fheaves, 
 Or gently ruftling in the fallen leaves ; 
 V .-„. And rolling .in blue Light the watery Way 
 V • . With, frofte^. iilver feem'd bedropt, and gay. 
 
 Impatient
 
 [ 62 ] 
 Impatient C l a i r m o n t led his penfive Bride, 
 As ilow llie fcal'd the Veffel's (lately fide. 
 So fmooth the Seas, the tall Bark feem'd to ileep, 
 While her gay Pennants ting'd the glaffy Deep. 
 Day after Day mild Breezes frefnen'd round, 
 Till Skies alone the mighty Waters bound. 
 
 But now, far diftant from Britannia's fhore. 
 Round craggy Steeps where angry billows roar. 
 Rife the dark Winds ! — and borne on flagging wing. 
 On the bent maft the fcreaming Fulmars cling ! 
 And foon the fury of the wildeft Storm 
 That could the vext and fwelling Sea deform. 
 With Death's flirill voice, fhrieks in the rending fhrouds, 
 As whirls the dizzy VefTel to the clouds ; 
 Or prone fhoots fwiftly to the billowy vale. 
 While the wet Seaman's altering cheek is pale. 
 
 The whirling Ship the guiding Rudder mocks, 
 It ftrikes ! — it burfls upon the bulging Rocks ! ' 
 Unhappy Cl a i r m o n t, who had vainly tried 
 In the tofs'd Boat to place his beauteous Bride, 
 
 Sees,
 
 [ 63 ] 
 
 Sees on the deck, pale, trembling, as flie Rood, 
 The fiidden Billow dafh her to the Flood ; 
 While on the riven plank himfelf convey'd, 
 With only Life, beneath a flranger Shade, 
 Wakes from the briny trance, and wakes to know, 
 Ot Fate's dark ftores, the moft accompliOi'd Woe ! 
 Borne by a friendly Sail, that now he ftands 
 A ruin'd Wanderer on his native Lands, 
 Seems little ; — Love's feverer tortures reign 
 With force defpotic, and exclulive pain. 
 
 This borne, from month to month, and year to year, 
 At length, unlook'd for tidings charm his ear; 
 Kis fair Clarissa lives I'—on coafts unknown 
 Wreck'd, like himfelf, unfriended and alone. 
 By dcftiny fevere, an haplefs Slave, 
 Pines on rude fhores beyond th' Atlantic wave ; 
 Yet, that fhe lives is fo unhoped a joy ! — 
 Before it Doubt, and Fear, and Anguifh fly ! 
 She lives ! — and Fate may aid the ardent ftrife, 
 And to his arms reftore his long-loft Wife ! 
 
 K In
 
 [ 6+ ] 
 In that dear hope pale Mifery's tortures ceafe, 
 And agony fubfides almoft to peace. 
 
 So I — but to EuGENio fvvift impart 
 How full the pardon of Louisa's heart! 
 O ! let him not repent he wrung her Mind 
 With fruitlefs woes, fo generoufly delign'd ; 
 Since, tho' they fail'd her freedom to reftore. 
 Had fhe not long been deftin'd to deplore 
 His Mind, as cruel, venal, falfe, and vain — 
 O but for that ! — the Soul-diftradling pain, 
 Whofe unexpected flight makes other grief 
 Sink in the foftnefs of that bleft relief. 
 Her Spirit ne'er, as now, had rifen above 
 The poignant woes of difappointed Love ; 
 Of that difunion here, fterii Fate commands, 
 Who throws her edid:s with fuch ruthlefs hands ! 
 But greater Ills remov'd, the lefs remain 
 Shorn of their pointed ftings, and loft their bane. 
 Say, in Louisa's breaft no longer glow 
 The inward fires of life-confuming Woe ; 
 
 Diftant
 
 [ 65 ] 
 
 Diftant alike from Pain's incumbent gloom, 
 And fprightly Plcafure's gaily-kindling bloom. 
 The vital Powers effufe a fofter flame, 
 And with ferener beams pervade her Frame. 
 O bid him live ! — live, to fulfil each part 
 That makes fuch awful claims upon his heart ; 
 And as an Hufband, as a Father, prove 
 Virtuous, and great, as in his filial love ! 
 
 I too fhail live ! — Health's warmer currents break, 
 Yet unconfirm'd, upon my faded cheek, 
 Laft Night their honied dews prolong'd my reft, 
 As foft they fprung within my cherilli'd breaft. 
 O Night ! the firft exempt from wildeft throes 
 Of fevcr'd Pain, that chas'd the fhort repofe. 
 Since my Eugenio's feeming cold nefs ft rove, 
 Alas I how much in vain ! to quench my Love. 
 Yes, I iTiall live to expiate by a Mind 
 Bow'd to its fate, and cheerfullv refign'd, 
 The dangerous raOinefs, which my peace had thrown 
 On human chance, and errors not my own. 
 
 K 2 Here,
 
 [ 66 ] 
 
 Here, to my favorite bower, at rifing Day, 
 With tranquil ftep, I bent my purpos'd way ; 
 For here I firft beheld the graceful Youth, 
 And here he promis'd everlafting truth ; 
 And here to thee, my Friend, I ufed to grieve. 
 When Life could charm no more, nor Hope deceive ; 
 And here, my long afflidled Spirit, freed 
 From that barb'd fhatt, on which it wont to bleed. 
 Now bids its foften'd feelings gently flow, 
 To her, who draws the deadly fling of Woe. 
 
 Once more thefe eyes, with fmiles of pleafure hail 
 The vernal beauties of my native Vale ; 
 The plenteous dews, that in the early ray 
 Gem the light leaf, and tremble on the fpray ; 
 The frefh cool gales, that undulating pafs. 
 With fhadowy fweep, along the bending grafs. — 
 Now throw the fhrubs and trees the lengthen'd fliade 
 On the fmooth turf diflind! — and now they fade, 
 As finks the Sun, behind a cloud withdrawn, 
 That late unveil'd fhone yellow on the lawn. 
 
 Soft
 
 [ 67 ] 
 Soft o'er the Vale, from this my favorite feat, 
 Serene I mark, the vagrant beauties fleet ; 
 In difi'erent lights the changing features trace, 
 Catch the bright form, and paint the fhadovvy grace. 
 Where the light A(h, and browner Oak extend, 
 And high in Air their mingled branches bend. 
 The mofiy bank, beneath their trembling bowers, 
 Arifes, fragrant with uncultur'd flowers. 
 That ftoop the fweet head o'er the latent fpring, 
 And bear the pendant Bees, that humming cling. 
 Juft gleams the Fount — for, curving o'er its brink, 
 The lengthen'd grafs the fhining Waters drink ; 
 Their green arms half its glafly beauties hide. 
 As from beneath them fteals the wandering tide, 
 And down the Valley carelefs winds away. 
 While in its ftreams the glancing Sun-beams play. 
 
 But where the Greenwood-hill, with arching fhade. 
 Opes the light Vifta up the winding Glade, 
 I fee a venerable Form defcend ; 
 His flow fteps falter as they hither bend. 
 
 Soft
 
 [ 68 ] 
 
 Soft lifts the breeze the locks of filver grey, 
 And gentlefl: meanings his mild looks convey ! 
 Stranger, whoe'er thou art, thy faded face 
 And bending form have many a touching grace. 
 He ftops ! — ■ — I haften to explore the caufe 
 Of that fix'd gaze ! — of that impaflion'd paufe ! 
 
 END OF THE THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 NOTE, UPON reading this third Epiftle to a Friend, he obfcrved, that 
 perhaps a comparifon of Louis a's own fituation with the harder fate of her Lover, 
 and her tender pity for the inevitable miferies of fuch a union, might have been accept- 
 able in the place of the epifode of Clairmont, and the defcription of the bower ; 
 but it fhould be confidered, that Louisa wrote under the immediate impreffion of 
 her extacy to find E u G £ N I o guiltlefs ; that her Mind was not fober'd enough for 
 refleiSion. To have inveftigated the unhappy lot of her Lover muft have been a melan- 
 choly employment. Eafed of an oppreffive weight of mifery, her exhilarated fpirits admit 
 not, fo early, any painful ideas. She does not difcriminate, fhe felicitates her deftiny. 
 Her fympathy in the fate of her Friends grows more lively — fhe recollects the fituation 
 of Clairmon t — Joy is naturally loquacious, and {he is gratified in relating his 
 ftory to her Emma. She awakens with new vivacity to the imprellions of pleafure, 
 which her Mind was accuftomed to receive from fcenic objefts. The propenfity to dwell 
 on them prevailed even in the hours ot her unhappinefs. It is an habit which compares 
 and afliinilates the fmiling, or the gloomy views of Nature to the internal feelings, and 
 is common to people of a lively imagination. In the exultation of her Heart to find her 
 Lover yet eftimable, Louisa fpeeds to the bower, fo imprefs'd with his image. Its 
 beauties ftrike her more forcibly than ever, and in this frame of .Mind fhe naturally feels 
 delight in painting them. 
 
 FOURTH
 
 FOURTH E P I S r L E. 
 
 O U I S A 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 April 25th, 1781. 
 
 /''^ H ! my lov'd Emma, I have much to tell, 
 ^*^^ Since laft I fent thee an abrupt farewel ; 
 But be the chain of thofe events regain'd, 
 That led my fteps, where awful Horrors reign'd, 
 And thro' their gloom, the light of Joy reveal'd, 
 By Fate's eclipfing hand fo long conceal'd. 
 
 Riiing impatient from the mofly feat, 
 With afking eyes, the ftranger Gueft I meet ; 
 
 He
 
 [ 70 ] 
 He clafps my hand ! — Oh ! in that look benign, 
 What rays of love, and angcl-pity fhine ! 
 Sweet cordial confidence ray bofom cheers, 
 Yet thrilling ftart the foft fpontaneous tears. 
 
 * What chance, or generous impulfe, may I blefs, 
 ' Thrice gentle Stranger, for this kind addrefs ; 
 * That thus thou vifiteft this lonely Grove, 
 ' And gazeft on me w^ith paternal love ?' 
 
 " Ah! fvveet Louisa," the mild Form replies, 
 His words flow mingling with the riflng fighs, 
 " Behold in me, the fource of all the woes, 
 " That paled on thy fair cheek the early rofe 1 
 " But thou art generous, and wilt kindly fhed 
 " Forgivenefs on Ernesto's aged head; 
 *' Yes, thou wilt much allow to fad extremes, 
 '* For round thee, as a Light, Compaflion beams I" 
 
 With pleas'd furprize my beating heart expands ; 
 My fwifter tears fall copious on his hands ; 
 
 My
 
 [ 71 ] 
 My trembling knee involuntary bends, 
 For deepeft reverence with my tranfport blends. 
 
 * O Heaven ! art thou that Being, fo rever'd, 
 ' In happier days to my charm'd Soul endear'd ? 
 ' Which oft, unconfcious of thy Form, furvey'd 
 ' Thy worth, by filial tendernefs difplay'd. 
 
 * All, all is known ! — no felfifh murmurs rife, 
 
 * Nor groans arraign the mandate of the fkies ; 
 
 * Nobly EuGENio their high call obey'd ! — 
 
 * Oh ! what a Wretch were I, fhould I upbraid, 
 ' Becaufe th' exalted Youth, whofe heart I won, 
 
 * Deferves the bleffing, to be born thy Son ! 
 
 ' Some vagrant drops may fall, fome rebel fighs, 
 ' Perchance, to our divided Loves arife ; 
 ' But vanifh'd now is Mifery's ruthlefs fmart, 
 
 * Tho' fad, not wretched, my devoted Heart ; 
 
 * And oh ! fince poor Louisa thus obtains 
 
 * Thy generous love, thy foothing pity gains, 
 ' On them each fond regret fhall fink to reft, 
 
 ' Nor Memory whifper, how fhe once was bleft.' 
 
 " Honor'd
 
 [ 72 ] 
 " Honor'd Louisa! fair angelic Maid, 
 «' With every blefling be thy worth repaid! 
 " But Time flies rapidly ! — the leaft delay 
 " 111 fuits th' important meffage I convey ; 
 " An haplefs Penitent adjures thee fly, 
 *' To pardon, and receive her dying flgh ; 
 *' O come with me, Louisa! — at thy gates, 
 " Lo ! in the Glen, th' expeding chariot waits !" 
 
 Silent — aftonifli'd — trembling — faint — and pale, 
 My hurried ftep he haften'd to the Vale ; 
 And foon, as feated by his fide I rode. 
 Thus, from his lip, Emira's ftory flow'd. 
 
 * When to the Altar my unliappy Son 
 
 * Led the gay Bride, whom all unfought he won, 
 
 * Penfive his eye, and ferious was his air ; 
 
 * Tho', with attentive, and refpedlful care, 
 
 * He ftrove to hide the forrows of his Soul, 
 
 ' But could not oft their burfting flgh controul, 
 
 * Bright, and adorn'd, as came the high-born Maid, 
 
 * In every lavifh elegance array'd. 
 
 * Yet
 
 [ 73 ] 
 
 * Yet oft I faw, that inaufpicious Morn, 
 
 ' From fmother'd confcioufnefs, the traniient fcorn 
 ' Caft lurid flame at times, amid the joy 
 '■ That glow'd voluptuous in her ardent eye, 
 ' When fLe perceiv'd, no ray of fond defire 
 ' Met her warm glance, or authoris'd its fire ; 
 
 * Saw deep-fek anguifh in her Bridegroom prove 
 ' The power fupreme of violated Love ; 
 
 * And oft his notice, courteous, yet conftrain'd, 
 
 * Eager fhe fought ; receiving it, difdain'd ; 
 
 * And ftill each day increas'd the vain chagrin, 
 
 * And waked new fallies of malicious fpleen ; 
 ' The penflve homage of a wounded Mind, 
 
 ' Tho' grateful, fad, and, without ardor, kind, 
 
 ' Seem'd to reproach thofe eyes, as powerlefs grown, 
 
 * Whofe glance, fhe deem'd, might make the World her own. 
 
 ' Unjufl: Emir a! that could'fl: hope to gain 
 ' Love's glowing homage from an Heart in pain ; 
 ' Thou fhould'fl: have footh'd th" involuntary fmart, 
 ' And with his fricndfliip fatisfied thy heart ; 
 
 L 2 ' Thus
 
 [ 74 ] 
 ' Thus fvvcet, and gentle, thou had'ft quickly won 
 ' That grateful tribute from my generous Son ; 
 ' But well he knew, thy vain ill-govern'd Mind, 
 
 * Nor foft compaffion knew, nor love refined ; 
 
 * So unregretful faw thy wafted hours 
 
 ' Refign'd to DifFipation's reftlefs powers ; 
 
 * Yet wifli'd thofe powers a kind relief might prove 
 ' To the pain'd fenfe of difappointed Love ; 
 
 * And fometimes hoped, the ftrong maternal claims 
 
 * Might lead her light defires to fofter aims, 
 
 * When a fweet Cherub-Daughter bleft her arms, 
 
 * Whofe features promis'd all her Mother's charms ; 
 
 * But no maternal tendernefs fhe fhares, 
 
 ' The gay Emir a fcorns its gentle cares. 
 
 ' And when to Pleafures, frivolous and vain, 
 
 * He faw fucceed, a mad licentious train ; 
 
 * Play, ruinoufly high, and dark Intrigue 
 
 * Prompt the wild wifh, and form the baneful league, 
 
 * How oft has he adjur'd her to refleft, 
 
 * What pricelefs peace her wild purfuits negledl ! 
 
 On
 
 [ 75 ] 
 ' On me propitious Heaven the power beftovv'd 
 
 * To cancel the waft debt my fortunes ow'd 
 
 * To proud Em IRA, — for my lucky Sails 
 
 ' Return'd, rich freighted, from Hifpania's vales ; 
 
 * Thofe Sails, whofe venture rafh, and long delay, 
 
 * With all a Bankrupt's mifery crofs'd my way. 
 
 ' Now many a fmiling Chance combined to raife, 
 ' Above the level of my faireft days, 
 
 * That Wealth, whofe dreadful and impending fall 
 ' In one wide ruin had involv'd us all, 
 
 * But that Em IRA, in that fateful hour, 
 
 * Snatch'd my devoted credit from its power ; 
 'And duteous, noble, dear Eugenio flood, 
 ' A youthful Victim to his Father's good. 
 
 * Yet when I faw, that mean unfeeling Pride 
 
 * Rul'd the vain bofom of the worthlefs Bride, 
 
 * My Soul rejoic'd, with intereft to repay 
 
 ' The heavy debt of that difaftrous day ; 
 ' For what idea can more painful rife, 
 
 * Than much to owe, where owing we defpife ? 
 
 One
 
 [ 76 ] 
 
 * One fcene, alas ! my heart can ne'er forget, 
 ' Nor Memory paint it without keen regret 
 
 * That in the female breafi:, fo form'd to prove 
 ' The fweet refinements of maternal Love, 
 
 ' Difdain, and guilty Pleafure, fhould controul, 
 
 * And to its yearnings indurate the Soul. 
 
 * Confummate from her toilette's anxious tafk, 
 ' E M I R A, haftening to the midnight Mafic, 
 
 ' Th' Apartment enter'd, where Eugenio flood, 
 ' And near me lean'd, in deeply mufing mood. 
 
 * My folding arms their rofy Infant prefl 
 
 * To the fond throbbings of a Grandfire's breaft. 
 
 * She, with the tones of petulant reproach, 
 ' And neck averted, call'd her tardy coach. 
 
 * I mark'd Eugenio's difapproving ligh, 
 
 * As the licentious veftment caught his eye ; 
 
 * The lofty turban, from whofe furface rais'd, 
 
 ' Glitter'd the filver plume, the diamond blaz'd ; 
 
 * The fnowy veil, in foft diforder thrown, 
 
 ' The bofom, rifing from the loofen'd zone, 
 
 ' And
 
 [ 77 ] 
 
 * And limbs, by golden muflln ill conccal'd, 
 
 ' Whofe clinging folds their perfed: form reveal'd. 
 
 * With heart-felt pain the injur'd Hufband faw 
 The Fair thus fcorn Decorum's guardian law ; 
 
 * Saw all that decent drefs, that modeft pride, 
 
 * " Which doubles ev'ry charm it feeks to hide,'* 
 
 ' Once the bright Dame of Britain's lovelieft boaft, 
 
 * In the Seraglio's wanton Inmate loft ! 
 
 * Seizing her ftruggling hand E u g e n i o tries 
 
 * To warn the fair Devoted, e'er fhe flies, 
 
 * Where Infamy in iilent ambufh ftrays 
 
 ' Amidft the antic Throng, the midnight blaze. 
 
 " Oh ! is it thus, he faid, a wedded Dame 
 " Lights the loofe Profligate's difgraceful flame? 
 " If 'gainft an Hufband's claim thy heart is fear'd, 
 " By Heaven eftablifh'd, and by Man revered, 
 " To that, if thy high Spirit fcorns to bend, 
 *' Yet, O Emir a! hear me as thy Friend! 
 
 " Snatch
 
 <( 
 
 cc 
 
 (( 
 
 [ 78 ] 
 
 *' Snatch thy bright youth, and all its countlefs charms, 
 " From a dread ambufh of o'er-whelming harms, 
 " Whofe Demon-tribe, fome evils fhall impart. 
 
 To reach and wring the moft obdurate heart ! 
 
 How will that haughty, that afpiring Mind, 
 *' Which claims th' inceffant homage of Mankind ; 
 *' Sees to thofe Graces, flattering Crouds avow, 
 
 Proud Rank unbend," and rival Beauty bow; 
 
 How will it bear to change this foft refpeft, 
 " For ftudied infolence, and rude negled ? 
 " The nod familiar of the Coxcomb Throng ? 
 " Thy name the theme of their lafcivious fong ; 
 
 And from the high-bred Dames, that now excite, 
 
 And fhare the revels of thy dangerous night, 
 *' Who, when Detedtion's livid fpots arife, 
 *' Will ftudious fhun, affedling to defpife ; 
 *' Canft thou th' unbending knee's cold infult bear, 
 *' Their fmile of malice, and their vacant flare? 
 *' Shafts, which wrong'd Virtue only can fuftain, 
 " And rife fuperior to th' unjufl difdain." 
 
 Thuj 

 
 [ 79 ] 
 
 * Thus while he poiir'd, to check this rafli career, 
 
 * The ftartling queftions on her wounded ear, 
 
 * Frowning fhe ftrove to difengage her hand, 
 
 * And fly the juft reproach, the firm demand ; 
 ' While fullen brows, and flafhes of difdain, 
 
 ' Too plainly prov'd the awful challenge vain. 
 
 * Then fliriving, from a fofter caufe, to impart 
 
 * The virtuous wiHi to her mifguided heart, 
 ' A Father's fondnefs melting in his look, 
 
 * From my embrace the fmiling Babe he took ; 
 
 * Exclaiming, as in all its touching charms 
 
 * He gave it to her half-unwilling arms ;' 
 
 " Alas ! Emir A, fhall this Infant live 
 " To feel the grief that confcioufnefs muft give, 
 " When a difhonour'd Mother's deep difgrace 
 " Pours the pain'd crimfon o'er the youthful face ? 
 " Or, loft to Virtue, thy example plead 
 *' For the light manners, the licentious deed ? 
 " Forbid it Heaven ! — O fmile my Child, and lure, 
 " To the maternal tranfports, foft, and pure, 
 
 M " That
 
 (( 
 
 (( 
 
 [ 8o ] 
 
 "That lovely bofom ! — let thy opening bloom 
 Charm my Emir a, e'er fhe yet confume', 
 In guilty Pleafure's falfe and baneful flames, 
 
 " A Wife's fair faith — a Mother's tender claims ! 
 
 " Oh ! may fhe bid thee live to breathe her name 
 
 " Without the paufe of fear, the blulli of fhame !"' 
 
 * She figh'd, and clafp'd the Infant to her breaft,. 
 
 * And milder looks the yielding Heart confefs'd ; . 
 ' Then, as its eyes to her's are rais'd the while 
 
 ' With all the pathos of th' unconfcious fmile, 
 
 * Two cryftal drops, that Nature's influence fpeak, 
 ' Steal from her lids, and wander down her cheek ; 
 
 * Thofe flranger tears, by that fweet thrill beguil'd, 
 ' Fall on the forehead of her beauteous Child. 
 
 ' Pleas'd the maternal tribute to furvey, 
 
 * EuGENio kifs'd the lucid drops away. 
 
 ' Earneft on him the Fair-One's moiften'd eyes 
 
 * Turn ! — and fome rays benign of foft furprife 
 
 * Meet his kind gaze — but ah ! the tranfient dawn 
 
 * Of virtuous feeling, inftant is withdrawn ; 
 
 ' And
 
 [ 8r ] 
 
 * And thofe mild beams, that Beauty beft adorn, 
 
 * Sink in the clouds of recollecfled Scorn. 
 
 * Her arms extending, with imperious air, 
 
 * The fmiling Babe again to my fond care 
 
 ' Coldly fhe gives ; — and giving it exclaims,' 
 ■ — " Go little Wretch! — of tender mutual flames 
 *' Thou wert not born ! — then why fhould I embrace, 
 *' And live for thee, whpfe birth is my difgrace ?" 
 
 * Now to her Hufband, with contemptuous fmiles, 
 
 * She bends — and thus his guardian-care reviles.' 
 — " Louisa's Lover has a right to claim 
 
 " The ftern protedlion of Emira's fame! 
 
 *' Whofe wealth, whofe rank, whofe youth, and far-famed 
 
 ** So madly given to thy infenfate arms, [charms, 
 
 *' Are weak to chace the defpicable pains, 
 
 " That load thy heart, and ice thy torpid veins ; 
 
 *' E'en now my Soul that mean regret efpies 
 
 *' Pale on thy cheek, and languid in thine eyes I 
 
 M 2 " For
 
 [ 82 ] 
 
 *' For me, thy needlefs appreheniion fpare ! 
 " My peace, my fame, abjure E u g e n i o's care ! 
 " And in my bofom female Pride fhall prove 
 *' An happier guard, than my weak, wafted love ! 
 " Farewell Infenlible ! — enjoy thy grief! 
 " Seek in inglorious fhades, and lighs, relief 
 " For the hard doom relentlefs Fate ordain'd, 
 " Thy fplen did fortunes to EMIRA's chain'd !- 
 " She goes to join, too great of Soul to mourn, 
 " The Circles fhe was deftin'd to adorn, 
 " Till, feizing on her heart with demon-hold, 
 " Paflion infajie that Deftiny controurd !" 
 
 * And thus the Fair, that one fhort minute faw 
 Obey the facred force of Nature's law ; 
 Now to its dictates more obdurate grown. 
 To Danger's paths with double zeft is flown. 
 
 ' Then to the famenefs of the Opera Throng, 
 
 * Where vocal tricks fuftain th' inlipid fong ; 
 
 * Where, round the Dancer, echoing plaudits found, 
 
 * At each indecent and diftorted bound, 
 
 * Each
 
 [ 83 ] 
 
 * Each odious gcfturc that ufurps the place 
 
 * Of eafy Elegance and genuine Grace ; 
 
 * To the pain'd hope, the fecret dread prefage, 
 ' Th' ignoble triumph, and the fmother'd rage 
 
 * Of fatal Play ; — the Ball's fatiguing tafk, 
 
 ' And the loofe revel of the wanton mafk ; 
 
 * To thefe fucceed, th' appointed guilty hour, 
 
 * That vefts the Libertine with boundlefs power ; 
 
 * Whofe darling hope confifts not in the joy 
 
 * He fcarce has wifh'd, and that fhall inftant cloy, 
 ' But in the triumph his mean pride has won, 
 
 ' When, public as the Air, and Noon-day Sun, 
 
 * The dup'd unhappy Fair-One's crimes fhall throw 
 
 * New fancied glories round the Boafter's brow. 
 
 * Behold Em IRA, loft to faith, and fhame, 
 
 * Quench the laffc fpark of her long faded fame 
 
 * For him, whofe gay attentions to fecure, 
 
 ' Rafh Beauty fpreads the felf-enfnaring lure ; 
 
 * That haughty Lord, licentious, falfe, and vain, 
 
 * Whofe groveling heart, nor rank, nor charms obtain ; 
 
 ' A fwarthy
 
 [ 84 ] 
 
 * A fwarthy Opera Dancer triumphs there, 
 
 * And foils th' attradions of the high-born Fair ; 
 
 * For her he wears the abjed, laftin^ chains ; 
 
 * To her, of Fafliion's drudgery complains, 
 
 * When in feign'd tranfports veiling cold diftafte, 
 ' With dames of Quality his moments wafle ; 
 
 ' Wafte, to fupport his confequence, and prove 
 ' His fvvay refiftlefs in the realms of Love ; 
 
 * While by her venal arts himfelf enflaved, 
 
 * Poor from her fquandering, by her humors braved, 
 
 * He hugs the Bonds, round which, to grace their power, 
 
 * Nor Youth, nor Beauty twine one blooming flower. 
 
 * On him Emir a her unvalued charms, 
 
 * Scarce aflc'd, beftows, to wake the wifh'd alarms 
 ' Of Sifter-Beauties, and enjoy their pain, 
 
 * Their dangerous fpleen, and rivalry infane. 
 
 * Too well the haughty Dames avenge the fmart 
 
 * Her fhort-liv'd triumph coft their fwelling heart, 
 
 * As her falfe Lover, with abandon'd pride, 
 
 ' Reveals the guilt, which Honor bids him hide I 
 
 *Nor
 
 [ 85 ] 
 
 * Nor tamely had an injur'd Hulband borne 
 
 * Oi her connubial faith this lavifh fcorn, 
 
 * But that his own remembered coldnefs brought 
 
 * Some palliation to his generous thought 
 
 * For guilty Beauty, in thefe fenfual times, 
 
 * Where foreign fafbions lead to foreign crimes ; 
 
 * Then, that her wealth, when Fortune's ftorm arofe, 
 
 * Saved his loved Parents from impending woes I 
 
 * Oh ! 'twas a thought that would no mark allow 
 
 * Of juft refentment for her broken vow, 
 ' Save, that he leaves the violated bed, 
 
 * Where Peace no gentle poppy e'er had fhed, 
 ' And ftudioufly each day avoids the Dame, 
 
 ' Who ftains his honor with her bleeding fame. 
 
 * By Duty urged, by Friendfhip warned in vain, 
 
 * As gay Emir A drives with loofened rein, 
 
 * Proud Diflipation's wearying labyrinths prove 
 ' The bane of Health, as the difgrace of Love. 
 
 * 'Midft the light Throngs, that croud the garifli Mart, 
 
 * Confuming Fever hurls her hery dart j 
 
 ' Deep
 
 [ 86 ] 
 ' Deep in Emir a's bread behold it ftand, 
 
 * And Life's warm current flirink beneath the Brand ! 
 
 * 'Tis now fhe wakens to the painful fenfe 
 
 * Of deep contrition for her paft offence ; 
 ' And now, alas ! her dying eyes furvey 
 
 * The Form of guilty Pleafure pafs away ; 
 
 * Drop the gay mafk, and throw the ghaftly fmile 
 
 * Back on the baffled Vi£lim of her guile. 
 
 * Haplefs Emir A on her dying bed 
 
 * Shrinks from the Phantom with convullive dread ; 
 
 * While Confcience rous'd, her former guilt recalls, 
 
 * And with Eugenio's wrongs her heart appals. 
 
 * Unfelt till this fad hour, the ftrong controul 
 
 * Of genuine fondnefs rufhes on her Soul ! 
 ' But with her native violence it reigns, 
 
 * Aids the Difeafe, and ftimulates its pains. 
 
 * Her Hufband's name, in tones of ftrange affright, 
 
 * Eager fhe breathes, nor bears him from her light. 
 
 * In vain her calmnefs gently he intreats, 
 
 * The generous pardon vainly he repeats ; 
 
 * For,
 
 [ «7 1 
 
 * For, darting from her couch, fhc ftill demands 
 
 * Pardon afrerh, and wildly wrings his hands. 
 
 * You too, Louisa, flic invokes, to flgn 
 
 * Her paffport blcfl to Mercy's healing fhrine,' 
 *' O dear Ernesto," the flirill accents cry, 
 " If you have pity, to Louisa fly; 
 
 *' Sweet, injur'd Excellence ! would fhe impart 
 
 " Her pardon to this felf-acculing Heart, 
 
 *' 'Twould cheer my Spirit, hov'ring on its flight 
 
 " To the dark confines of ETERNAL NIGHT." 
 
 * She faid — and dear Louisa will beftow 
 
 * Th' adjur'd forgivenefs on repentant woe ; 
 
 * Will feel its fufferings all her wrongs atone, 
 ' And in Emira's pangs forget her own.' 
 
 Ernesto ceas'd — for Pity's throbs opprefs'd 
 With tender force his venerable breaft. 
 Thro' the remaining way our mutual fighs, 
 From awe-flruck thought, in folemn fllencc rife. 
 
 N Shuddering
 
 [ 88 ] 
 Shuddering we now draw near the houfe of Death, 
 And find yet ftays the intermitting breath. 
 What agitated dread my bofom tears, 
 When paufing wc afcend the filent flairs !— 
 As we approach the flowly opening door ! — 
 As my pain'd Senfes, horror-chill'd, explore 
 The dim Apartment, where the lelTen'd light 
 Gives the pale Sufferer to my fearful fight ! 
 The matchlefs grace of that confummate Frame 
 Withering beneath the Fever's fcorching flame. 
 Outflretch'd and wan, with laboring breath flie lies, 
 Clofing in palfied lids her quivering eyes. 
 EuGENio's hand lock'd in her clafping hands, 
 As hufh'd and mournful by her couch he ftands ! — = 
 Horror, and Pity mingled traces flung. 
 Which o'er his Form, like wintry fhadows, hung ; 
 Yet, on my entrance in that dreary Room, 
 A gleam of Joy darts thro' their awful gloom ! 
 Oh ! what a moment ! — my E u g e n i o's face ! — 
 Alas ! — how faded its once glowing grace ! 
 Paft hours of woe on his pale cheek I read, 
 In eyes whofe beams, like waining ftars, recede ! 
 
 Faintly
 
 [ 89 ] 
 Faintly the found of that known voice I hear, 
 *' Oh my Louisa !" fcarce it meets my ear, 
 Left the imperfedl flumber fhould be found 
 Chas'd by the check'd involuntary found. 
 But clear the fenfes of the Dying feem, 
 Like the expiring taper's flafhing beam. 
 Scarce audibly tho' breath'd, Louisa's name 
 E M I R A hears, and her enfeebled Frame, 
 With fudden povverlefs effort, ftrives to raife ; 
 But, finking back, her eyes, in eager gaze, 
 Are fix^'d on mine, — what anguifh in their beams ! 
 O confcious Guilt ! how dreadful thy extremes ! 
 The chill numb hands, whence deadly dews had broke, 
 Snatch'd from her Lord's, when ftarting flie awoke. 
 Now, as they feem unable to extend, 
 Softly I take, as o'er her couch I bend ; 
 She turns away, oppreft by thought fevere, 
 And fteeps her pillow in the bitter tear. 
 
 Alas ! be calm ! be comforted ! I cried, 
 " Do you too pardon ?" — fhrilly fhe replied, 
 
 N 2 Bending
 
 [ 9° ] 
 
 Bending again on me that burning ray, 
 
 Whofe heat no contrite waters could allay. 
 
 " Then, dear Louisa, peaceful fhall I die, 
 
 " Since hallow'd thus my laft — remorfeful figh ; 
 
 " But Oh ! 'tis dread — when Memory difplays 
 
 " The guilt-ftain'd retrofped of vanifh'd days ! 
 
 " The fecret — felfilL joy — ^which hail'd the blow, 
 
 " That laid Ernesto's profperous fortunes low; 
 
 " Sever'd thofe hands- — whofe glowing hearts were join'd, 
 
 *' The facred union of the kindred Mind. 
 
 *' Heaven reunites them I — and the Wretch removes, 
 *' That impious rofe between their plighted Loves ; 
 *' Who not content to blaft their fweet increafe, 
 " And arm — Eugenio's Virtue— 'gainft his Peace, 
 " Added"— ——But now, from feeblenefs, or fhame, 
 A deadly faintnefs /ickens thro' her Frame. 
 Reviving fhortly — " I would fain," fhe cries, 
 " E'er everlafting darknefs clofe thefe eyes, 
 " Litreat of that kind Spirit — fweet, and mild, 
 *' Its future — generous goodnefs — to my Child, 
 ** Love her, Louisa — -love her — I implore, 
 " When loft Emir a — wounds thy peace no more ! 
 
 " Oh !
 
 [ 91 ] 
 
 ' Oh ! gently fofter in her opening Youth, 
 
 ' The feeds of Virtue — Honor — Faith — and Truth, 
 
 ' For thy Eugenio's fake ! — who gave her birth, 
 
 ' And gave — I truft. — .the temper of his worth ! 
 
 ' And when — on his lov'd knees — my Infant climbs, 
 
 * Adjure him — to forget her Mother's crimes ! 
 ' I know thou wilt ! — I feel thy heart expand, 
 ' In the dear prefTure — of that gentle hand. 
 ' O ye wrong'd pair ! in the laft awful Morn, 
 ' When my ftain'd Soul at the eternal Bourn 
 
 * Shall trembling ftand — her final doom to hear, 
 
 * She lefs fhall dread — to meet the injured there ! 
 ' Congenial Mercy — {he may hope to prove, 
 ' From the offended Powers — of Truth — and Love !" 
 
 While yet thefe interrupted accents hung. 
 Faint on the rigid lip, and faltering tongue. 
 The ftiffening fpafm, the fuffocatmg breath. 
 Gave dread prcfage of near approaching Death. — 
 Now roll the eyes in fierce and reftlefs gaze ! 
 Now on their wildncfs deals the ghafily glaze ! 
 
 Till
 
 [ 93 ] 
 
 Till o'er her Form the {hadowy horrors fpread 
 The dim fuffufion that involves the DEAD. 
 
 Thus Wealth, and Rank, and all their gorgeous Train, 
 The Proud that madden, and enfnare the Vain ; 
 Youth's frolic grace, and Beauty's radiant bloom, 
 Sink, in the dreary Tilence of the Tomb ; 
 But oh ! rejoice with me, that Hope's bleft beam 
 Threw o'er the dark Abyfs one trembling gleam ! 
 
 For thy Louisa — Words can ill impart 
 How dear the comforts eddying round her heart ! 
 How foft the Joy, by Sorrow's fhading hand 
 Touch' d into charms more exquifitely bland ! 
 Or paint Eugenio's tranfports as they rife, 
 More fweet for generous Pity's mingled {ighs ; 
 Sweet above all, from the exulting pride 
 Of felf-approving Virtue, ftrongly tried. 
 Applauding CONSCIENCE, yes! to thee 'tis given, 
 To infpire a Joy, that antedates our Heaven ! 
 
 Thus,
 
 [ 93 ]• 
 
 Thus, on Moriah's confecrated height, 
 Flow'd the obedient Patriarch's fond delight, 
 When o'er the filial breaft, his faith to fcal, 
 On high had gleam'd the facrificing Steel ; 
 Thus flow'd, when at the Voice, divinely mild. 
 His raptured hands unbound his only Child ! 
 
 O come, my Emma ! — yet thou ne'er haft feen 
 Embodied Virtue in Eugenio's Mein ; 
 Grace, grandeur, truth, and tendernefs combin'd, 
 The liberal effluence of the polifli'd Mind ! 
 And for more generous pleafures than we prove, 
 The blifs furveying of the Friends we love. 
 Sure we muft wait, till Angels fhall impart 
 Their own perfection to th' expanded Heart ! 
 
 Hafte then to fhare our bleflings, as they glow 
 Thro' the receding fhades of hcavieft woe ! — ' — 
 As Spring's fair Morn, with calm, and dewy light. 
 Breaks thro' the weary, long, and ftormy Night, 
 So now, as thro' the Vale of Life we ftray, 
 The STAR o{ JOY relumes, and leads us on our way ! 
 
 F I ^y I s. 
 
 j/. 
 
 >i^.«_- c^'^^'
 
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 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. 
 
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