LOUISA, 
 
 POETICAL NOVEL, 
 
 I N 
 
 FOUR EPISTLES. 
 
 BY MISS SEWARD. 
 
 THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LICHFIELD: 
 
 Printed and Sold by J.Jackson, and G.Robinson, 
 IN Pater - NosTER - Row, London, 
 
 MDCCLXXXIV.
 
 PREFACE. ^^^ 
 
 57J 
 
 TH E enfuing epillolary poems contain a defcription rather -^ / -^ 
 of palTions than of incidents. They refulted from an idea //>^y 
 of it being pollihle to unite the impaflion'd fondnefs of Pope's 
 EL O ISA, with the charter tendernefs of Prior's EMMAj 
 avoiding the voluptuoufnefs of the firft:, and the too conceding 
 foftnefs of the fecond. It is hoped the Reader will diflinguifli 
 between the apprehended poflibility of exhibiting in verfe a more 
 faultlefs female Charadler than the E LOIS A of Pope, or the 
 EMMA of Prior, and the ralh and vain defign of equalling, 
 much lefs of furpafiing the tranfcendent poetic excellence of either 
 of thofe Compofitions. 
 
 The LOUISA of the following pages has all that enthufiafm 
 which fprings frpm an heart warmly affedionate, joined to a glow- 
 ing and pidturefque imagination. Her lenfibilities, heightened, and 
 refined in the bofom of Retirement, know no bounds, except thofe 
 which the dignity of confcious Worth, and aflrong fenfe of Religion 
 prefcribe. It is feared the modern young Ladies will have little 
 fympathy with her, fince (he is unfafhionably enthufiaftic, aud un- 
 faftiionably tender. 
 
 A N ingenious Friend, after reading the firft epilllc, remarked, 
 that LOUISA might have defcribed with more interefting par- 
 ticularity her Lover's declaration of Jiis paflion, and the manner 
 in which Hie received that declaration ; but the Author thought 
 the prefent method of conveying that circumftance to the mind of 
 the Reader more poetic. Pope's E L O I S A is minute in her def- 
 cription of the awful Scenery, formed by the rocks, the llreams, and 
 mountains of Paraclete, but by no means minute concerning the 
 amorous eclaircillement between herfelf and Abelard. LOUISA 
 difcriminates her Lover's early attentions to her, tho' (lie leaves the 
 manner of his declaring their fource very much to the Imagination. 
 
 Her 
 
 876G67
 
 VI. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Her application of the beautiful fcenic objeds, by which fhe was at 
 that interval furrounded, to her own, and to her Lover's fituation j 
 and the pafling fuddenly to their prefent altered appearance, contrails 
 the charms, and bloom of the firft, with the chill drearinefs of the 
 fecond. There it was that the Author had in view that ftriklng 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 ; and painting to her the 
 fituation of that very Scene, when he had vifited it alone, amidft the 
 horrors of Winter, and found thofe horrors congenial to the temper 
 of his Soul. 
 
 This Poem has little chance to be popular. A feeling Heart, 
 and a fondnefs for Verfe muft uniie to render it interefling. 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- 
 jng of thefe Lovers, and ficken over their tendernefs. 
 
 I F, however, this little Work has the honor to interefl: and pleafe, 
 the Few, in whom the kind and fweet affedions are blended with 
 poetic tafte, the end for which it is publiflied will be obtained. 
 
 The firft hundred and fifty fix lines were written when the Author 
 was only nineteen. They had been miflaid during a long interval. It 
 is fixteen months fince they were accidentally recovered. Some few 
 Friends, to whom the Fragment was fhevvn, thought it worth being 
 extended into a regular Work. The firft, and third of thefe epiftles 
 are defigned to be defcriptive, and fentimental ; the fecond, and laft, 
 dramatic. 
 
 •5W?^
 
 O U I S A 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 HER FRIEND IN THE EAST-INDIE9. 
 
 October 21, 1779. . 
 
 THEE, Emma, four revolving years have {qqii 
 PrefUng, with penlive foot, Savannas green, 
 Whofe wide expanfe the broad Bananas fliade, 
 When the fierce beams of torrid Suns invade ; 
 Seen thee, with longing, weftward looks, inhale 
 The tardy breeze, that fans the orient vale. 
 
 Now, as with filial care thy light ftep roves, 
 Thro' India's palmy plains, and fpicy groves, 
 
 To
 
 [ 2 ] 
 
 '^o blefs thee, exil'd thus in Youth's gay prime, 
 May fprightly Health refift the fultry clime, 
 Temper the fickly blaft, the fever'd ray. 
 And Peace, and Pleafure, lead the fhining Day ! 
 Yet, when thou know'fl for me, that Sorrow fhrouds 
 Hope's cryftal mirror with impervious clouds. 
 The Tighs, and tears, that tend'reft pity fpeak. 
 Shall fwell thy breaft, and chill thy glowing cheek ; 
 Since one have been ovlt pleafures, one our cares, 
 From the firft dawn of thofe delicious years, 
 What time, infpir'd by joy's enlivening pow'rs, 
 We chas'd the gilded Infedt thro' the bow'rs ; 
 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 w^orld of waters, vainly roll. 
 
 O'er this deep Glen, departing Autumn throws, 
 With kind reverted glance, a fhort repofe, 
 E'er yet flie leaves her England's fading fcene, 
 Where fickly yellow ftains the vivid green, 
 
 And
 
 f 3 1 
 
 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 fhelter of th' impov'rifli'd Shade, 
 Unequal fteps, and riiing iighs, difclofe 
 The thorny preflure of tyranic woes ; 
 And where th' incumbent Rock, with awful face. 
 Bends o'er the fountain, gurgling from its bafe. 
 And marks the limit of the filent 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 Mem'ry bear refiftlefs fway, 
 And all the weaknefs of the Soul betray ! 
 
 O ye known objedls ! — how ye ftrike my heart ! 
 And vain regrets, with keener force, impart ! 
 
 B 2 Slow
 
 C 4 3 
 
 Slow, thro' the faded Grove, pafl: Pleafures glicje,_ J _ 
 Or fadly linger.^ (^y^.the fountain's £4%..^ ^rij riwo-rn'mL" 
 
 Dear, awful witnefs of a;,byoken vow^ - ,, - - 
 Steep Rock, how fternly frowfts thy rugged browd!] h.aA 
 But, if the frequent blaft fhall bend thy Pines,} bnn:nU 
 Clear at thy foot the cryftal water fhines ! 
 Tho' drizzling Clouds the mifty Mountains veil, 
 Yet the mild Sun-beam gilds the narrow Daleij ^ fb~33 
 Tho' vernal flovv'rs this bank no more adorn, ; /^ 
 
 Nor Summer's wild rofe blufhes on its thorn. 
 Yet Ihelter'd, moffy, dry, and warm, it draws 
 The heedlefs, roving ftep, to quiet paufe. 
 
 Thus the pale Year, tho' Nature's edi<3:s urge 
 Her ftep to Winter's defolating verge. 
 Sedately pafles to the drear domain, j 
 
 And breathes, e'en yet, foft comforts o'er the plain j 
 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 biddino; thee a I0112; adieu ; 
 And the fvveet tears, that fuch foft forrows bring. 
 Fall, as light rain-drops from 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 Wand'rer's heart. 
 
 Soon then did Cheerfulnefs the morn illume. 
 And Peace defcend with Evening's grateful gloom ; 
 They faw my breaft with that clear fpirit gay, 
 Which fpeeds the focial hour fo faft away. 
 
 Now Expectation's fervour rofc, to hail 
 The youthful Mafter of this quiet Vale, 
 My blooming Brother — from Oxonia's tow'rs. 
 Who fought, with tender hafte, his native bow'rs. 
 
 'Twas Noon, and ripen'd Summer's fervid ray 
 From cloudlefs Ether ilied opprefTivc day. 
 
 As
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
 As on this lliady 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 unconfcious try, 
 And murmur — " * Hide me from Day's garifh eye ! " 
 Ah ! blefl-, had Death a fhade eternal thrown, 
 And hid me from the woes I iince have known ! 
 
 Beneath my trembling Angers 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 f2ray ; 
 And nough t was heard, around the noon -tide bow'r, 
 Save, that tjie mountain Bee, from flow'r to fliow'r, 
 S eem'd to prolong, with her afliduous vTing, 
 The loft vibration of the tuneful firing ; 
 While the fierce Skies flam'd qn^the fhrinking Rills, 
 And fultry Silence b rooded q^er the Hills ! 
 
 As on my lip the ling'ring Cadence play'd, 
 My Brother gaily bounded down the Glade, 
 
 * An inchanting Song of Handel's, from Milton's II Penferofo. 
 
 And,
 
 [ 7 ] 
 And, while nly looks the fire of gladnefs dart, 
 With ardor prefs'd me to his throbbing Heart ; 
 Then to a graceful Stranger turn'd, whofe feet, 
 With ft:eps lefs fwift, my coyer welcome meet. 
 O'er his fine form, and o'er his glowing face, 
 Youth's ripcn'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 fair brow, the fairer for their fhade. 
 Locks of the warmeft brown luxuriant play'd. 
 Blufhing he bows ! — and gentle awe fuppiies 
 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 Mulic's thrilling pow'r, 
 No, not the vocal Miftrefs of the bow'r, 
 When flow fhe warbles from the bloffom'd fpray, 
 In liquid blandifhment, her evening lay, 
 Such foft, infinuating fwcetnefs knows. 
 As from that voice, in melting accent flows ! 
 
 Yet
 
 [ 8 ] 
 Yet why, fond Meni'ry ! why, in tints fo warm, 
 Paint' ft thou each beauty of that faultlefs Form ? 
 His fpecious virtues lurely might impart 
 Excufe more juft for this devoted heart. 
 Oh ! how each noble paffion's feeming trace, 
 Threw tranfient glories o'er his youthful face ! 
 How rofe, with fudden impulfe, fwift, and ftrong, 
 For ev'ry fecret fraud, and open wrong 
 Th' Oppreflbr a6ls, the Helplefs feel, or fear, 
 Difdain's quick throb, and Pity's melting tear. 
 So well its part each dudlile 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 pradlice, or fufpeA deceit. 
 
 Ceafe, vain Regrets, excurfive Fancy ceafe ! 
 Ye only wound afrefh 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 fingiilar, nor ftrange the tale, 
 My Sifter - Suff'rers mourn in ev'ry vale; 
 For gold, and dazzling ftate, incelTant 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 didlates — but diforder'd praife. 
 Scarce half exprefs'd ; the mufing, ardent gaze ; 
 The varying 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. 
 
 y^Thefe are the days that fly on Rapture's wing, 
 Empurpling ev'ry fiow'r that decks the Spring ; 
 For when Love-kindling Hope, with whifper bland, 
 Wakes the dear magic of her potent wand, 
 More vivid colours paint the rifing Morn, 
 And clearer cryftal gems the filver thorn ; 
 On more luxuriant fhade the Noon-beam plays, 
 And richer gold the Ev'ning-Sun jjrays ; 
 
 C Starii
 
 [ ,0 ] 
 
 Stars feemjto glitter- -with enarrraur'd fire. 
 And fhadowy' Hills- in ftatclier grace, alfpire j:>j lie '(M 
 Mor e fubt:le(>fvye^t2aie'fs;^fcenri the pafErtg galesi io^ •lo'^ 
 And fofter beauty^ decks the moon-light Vales ; 
 All Natore fmiles ! nor e'en the jocund Day, 
 When feftal rofcs ftrew th-e bridal v/ay, ; 
 
 Darts thro' the Virgin breaft fuch keen ddlight, 
 As when Soft Fears with gay Belief unite ; 
 • AsIIope, fwee.t , warm, Teducing Hope inlipires, 
 Which fomewh at queftipns, what it moft defires ; 
 Reads latent meaning in a Lover's eye, 
 Thrills at his glance, and trembles at his figh ; "f 
 
 As o'er the Frame diforder'd tranfport pours, 
 /sWhen 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 ilanting Sun-beam warbling hung, 
 With fweeter mufic trill'd the v^efper lay, 
 Than when he foar'd amid the blaze of Day ; 
 But yet a thoufand times more fweet the found, 
 In which my Soul its deareft blefling found ! 
 
 Slow on the Sun had ftol'n the failing Cloud, 
 And drawn o'er his gay fires the purple fliroud. 
 Then roU'd away ! — till, by no fhade repreft, 
 Afar the fetting Orb emblaz'd the Weft; 
 Lighted with arrowy beanis the Ocean caves, 
 And funk with fplendor in the ilJumin'd waves ! 
 
 Thus oft wou'd Modefty iher blufh employ, . 
 Coyly to veil the radiance of my joy ! 
 But from thefe eyes the fun-bright gladnefs beam'd, 
 And all the triumph of my bofom ftream'd I 
 
 (iiiiijji C 2 • 'Twas
 
 C " ] 
 
 "*Twas here, — e'en here ! — where now I fit reclin'd, 
 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, ling'ring leaves; 
 The eddying foliage in the tcmpeft flies, ' 
 
 And fills with dufkier gloom the thick'ning Skies. 
 Red links the Sun, behind the howling Hill, 
 And ruilies, 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 penfive Gueft, 
 Tho' drizzling fleet beats cold upon her breafl: ! 
 To this fad Soul more welcome are thy glooms. 
 Than Spring's green bow'rs, or Summer's gaudy blooms ; 
 Nor afks an Heart, that only breathes to flgh, 
 A warmer manflon, 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 fl-irink from iTiame, 
 To join with Perfidy Eugenio's name; 
 Feels its foft ftreams in ev'ry piilfe recede 
 From the pain'd mention of one barb'rous deed, 
 That kills my hopes, like Eurus' fierce career 
 On the bright foliage of the early year ; 
 Which turns, while premature its buds difclofe. 
 To livid yellownefs the damalk 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 vvdldnefs of the wint'ry 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 pow'r 
 Of wafting Sicknefs brings the fever'd Hour, 
 That ftops th' ill-guided pen in the weak hand, 
 And rtiakes from Life's dim glafs the ebbing fand ! 
 
 Thou,
 
 i H ] 
 
 Thou, Emma, wilt not blame my eafy Youth, 
 That foon this Heart declar'd its tend'reft truth. 
 Ah ! could I dream he feign'd, whofe glances warni 
 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 difcriminating praife ; 
 Tho' 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 {liare 
 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 cou'd I think that vow, whofe ftarting tear 
 Sprung, the warm witnefs of a faith fincere ? 
 
 Now dawn'd th' appointed, but unwelcome Day, 
 That bore my deareft Brother far away, 
 Where foreign Climes might ftore his rip'ning Youth, 
 A With Obfervation, Science, Tafle, and Truth. 
 
 • The
 
 :[ 15 ] 
 
 The fame fad Day my lov'd Eugenio 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 tali Ship, the diftant Land. 
 His rifing intcrefts on the call attend. 
 For with a Father's profp'rous fate they blend. 
 Thus, with thefe interefls. Duty's filial pow'r 
 Unites to tear him from Louisa's bow'r ; 
 But parting Sorrows yield them to the force 
 Of ftrong Necefiity's rcfifllefs courfe, 
 By gen'rous Confidence when luU'd to rejfl. 
 That broods, on dove-like pinion, o'er the breafl ; 
 While, from kind letters, rays of joy pervade 
 The gloomy moments of the love-fick Maid ; 
 
 And
 
 t i6 ] 
 
 And oh ! how warm, how bright thofe letters glow'd, 
 What ardent Love, in melting language flow'd. 
 My deareft Emma, thou wilt ne'er explore j 
 The brilliant Talifmans are mine no more ! 
 Pride, Virgin-Pride, pronounc'd the flern beheft, 
 And tore the faithlels 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 iigh — 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 low'r 5 
 Chace each conjedure kind, with fierce controul, 
 And fend their cruel ice-bolt thro' my Soul. 
 
 Three wretched weeks my throbbing bofom bearsr 
 The wounding conflict of its various fears. 
 While Rumour's voice inflames my grief, and pride, 
 And gives Eugenio to a wealthier Bride. 
 
 My
 
 [ 17 ] 
 
 My trembling hands, the fick fufpenfe to eafe, 
 From Day to Day the public Records feize ; 
 While glances, rapid as the meteor's ray, 
 Eager amidft the croiided columns ftray ; 
 Snatch at fad Certainty from bufy Fame, 
 Yet dread to meet my dear E cjgenio's- Name. 
 
 Now glooms on the ftain'd page the barb'rous Truth, 
 And blights each blooming promife of my youth ! 
 E u G E N I o married ! — A nguifh, 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 fincere, one heart-felt tranfport live 
 In ought ye purchafe, or in ought ye give ? 
 A Blifs, to rival thofc thy avarice loft, 
 Infolvent India fhall but vainly boaft ! 
 
 D Was
 
 [ .8 ] 
 
 Was it for this my gentk 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 f 
 And, as he kindly breath'd the parting ilgh, 
 Love's cryftal fluid ruihing to his eye, 
 Was it for this our blooming Hopes he bleft, 
 Seiz'd our twin'd hands, and clafp'd them to bis breaft ? 
 Ah! did he know his lov'd Louisa's fate. 
 What Energy wou'd nerve his riling Hate ! [ 
 
 Hafte, my Lorenzo, to thy Sifter's aid ! 
 With thy fwift vengeance be her wrongs repaid ! 
 Ye rifing Winds, his wand'ring Sails rcftore ! 
 Ye refluent Waters, bear him to the Shore ! 
 
 And thou, vain Bride ! enjoy the Meteor-ray, 
 The fancied Sun-beam of thy nuptial Day ! 
 Stern Fury waits, to quench its tranfient light, 
 In deep, enfanguin'd, everlafting Night ! 
 Bleed, Faithlefs, bleed! — Louisa's Wrongs explor'd. 
 Shall frown relentlefs on her Brother's fword ! 
 
 Rafh,
 
 I 19 ] 
 
 Rafli, loft Louisa !— could'ft thou bear the ftrife ? 
 
 Throw on a fatal chance thy Brother's life? 
 Or ftrctch, a^iAim to thy proud Difdain, 
 E u G E N I o, pale, and bleeding, on the Plain ? 
 Endure that from a bofom, once fo dear, 
 Convulfive pangs the trembling Life fliou'd tear ? 
 Oh I fliould'ft thou, certain of the cruel truth, 
 Behold, in Fancy's eye, the flaughter'd Youth, 
 Could'ft thou that lov'd, that lov^ely Form furvey, 
 And fee it faded to infenfate Clay ? 
 Eternal darknefs on thofe eye-lids hung ? 
 Eternal ftlence ftiffen on that tongue ? 
 No ! wildly, from the bare furmife, I ftart, 
 And treble fondnefs ruflies thro' my heart ; 
 Live ! — live E u g e n i o ! — free from fierce alarms, 
 Bleft, if thon canft, e'en in my Rival's arms ! 
 O ! fafc, thro' lengtKen'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 ! 
 A Soft may thofe dangerous graces melt away. 
 And gently fink in fcarCe perceiv'd decay ! 
 
 D 2 For
 
 -[ 2° ] 
 
 For this mj breafl: its ciirelcfs w^oes fhall hide, 
 Nor fling frateraal iX-ove, nor g^n-rpus Pride. 
 Yes, dear Lorenzo;!' thou fhalt ftill believe, 
 Tho' much the thought thy gentle breaft will grieve, 
 Louisa, loft , to tend ernefs, and truth, 
 In the vain- levity of thoughtlefs Youth, 
 Prov'd to EucIenio's: lovcid. cold Ligrate, 
 And lightly fplenetic deferv d her fate. 
 
 Cruel Remenib'rance-! how {hall I affuage;' 
 The yearning pangs of thy incefiant rage ? 
 What balmy comfort can .the Heart pervade. 
 When bitter tears his broken faith upbraid, 
 Whofe hand, we fondly hop'd, fliou'd wipe away 
 Their flowing forrows thro' each future Day ? 
 Since in Reflexion's grafp each BlefUng dies, 
 When the forc'd, ftruggling Spirit muft defpife 
 Him, who encircled with Perfedion's zone. 
 Long in our light fcarce lefs than Angel fhone. 
 For if Credulity her warmth impart. 
 With veils of Ligjht fhe fcrcens the felfifh Heart ; 
 
 But
 
 [ " ] 
 
 But barb'rous Perfidy's fevere extreme, 
 
 In fhades eternal, fiirouds each o-orgeous beam. 
 
 On the arch'd windows thus, that proudly grace 
 An high, majeftic Temple's aweful face. 
 When pours the fetting Sun its darting rays, 
 An hundred folar Orbs appear to blaze ; 
 But when th' incumbent fhades of lowering nigrht 
 Curtain the Source 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 fland ; 
 Thro' the dim Ailes pale Spedlres feem to fleet. 
 And hollow groans the whifp'ring Walls repeat. 
 
 So round Eugenio's form, that rifes yet, 
 'Midft Pride's cold frown^ and Paflion's warm regret, 
 Deprived of all the luftre it retained, 
 When gay Belief with funny liue remain'd, 
 Inceflant now the Fiends of avarice glide. 
 With dark Ambition fcowling at their fide. 
 
 Detefted
 
 [ " ] 
 
 Detefled impoteiice of flatter'd charms, 
 That cou'd not bind my Wand'fer to my arms 1 
 Ah ! what avail'd your beauties, but to lure 
 That fleeting Love, ye knew not to fecure ! 
 
 Like opening flow'rs, that deck the dcfart Glade, 
 Fair to no purpofe, flatter'd Graces fade ! 
 One healing draught — and all fhall yet be well ! 
 " Peace is the pale-ey'd Sifter of the Cell," 
 The cell of DEATH — ^where Mif'ry only knows 
 The foft exemption, — and the long repofe. 
 
 Ah no ! — a guardian Spirit feems to fay, 
 " Stay thee, Louisa, yet a little ftay ! 
 Awake not righteous Heav'n's avenging Hate 
 By raflily plunging in the waves of Fate ! 
 Tho' 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
 
 C n 3 
 
 Thy Soul's Belov'd, by vain ambition iir'd, 
 Deaf, as the Grave, to all that once infpir'd, 
 To Love's foft voice,— to Honor's awful plea, 
 Lives to another! — and is loft to thee!" 
 
 EuGENio 7narried \ — Oh ! — yon Village-bell, 
 That flings 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 ! 
 EuGENio married^ feals Louisa's doom. 
 Her fure, tho' ling'ring 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 j 
 Since tho' this mortal Frame, Affe(n:ion's Have, 
 Waftes by th' envenom'd wound that Falfehood gave, 
 I ftill poflefs, thus withering in my youth, 
 AThe peace of Innocence, the pride of Truth j 
 
 My
 
 [ 24 ] 
 
 My Soul is confcious of its heav'nly Sire, 
 
 The Cherub Faith has lent her wings of fire ; 
 
 Man, the bafe objedl of my fcorn, it leaves, ' 
 
 To join that gracious Povv'r, that ne'er deceives 1 
 
 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 embrac'd, 
 Not one flight thought on falfe E u g e n i o 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 Emma, at an haplefs name, 
 Veil'd to thy fenfe in perfidy and fhame ! 
 Oh ! deep indeed the mifts, they long have fpread, 
 To Fancy's eye, round this devoted head ! 
 While deeper ftill the fhades of anguifh low'r, 
 Drear as the Night upon the wint'ry Bow'r, 
 
 E When
 
 [ ^6 ] 
 
 When bitter Winds howl fearful o'er the plains, 
 And the bright Stars are c^uench'd amid the rains ! 
 So qnench'd each fmiling Pleafure's rofeate ray, 
 That once illumin'd loft E ug e n i (>'^. way 1 
 
 But, e'er his tortur'd Soul's inceffant ftrife 
 Burfl: the dark confines of difaft'rous Life, 
 Given, or with-held, by Emma's guardian hands, 
 As her Friend's peace hereafter beft demands, 
 Will flie receive Eugenio's laft requeft. 
 In faithful truft for her Lo u i s a'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 1 
 No longer fhalt thou think I bafely fold 
 My peace, my liberty, my love, for gold ; 
 That gold did purchafe them, we know too well, 
 But Oh I no fordid facrifice they fell ! 
 Learn then thofe dire Events, whofe tyrant fway 
 Forc'd me to throw joy's vital root away, 
 
 Yield
 
 [ ^7 ] 
 Yield my Louisa to their ftern controul. 
 Gem of my Youth ! and Day-Star of my Soul ! 
 
 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 paft and gone, to rove, 
 And hate the mean apoflate 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 Heav'n in fervor caft, 
 To implore protedion 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 ; 
 
 E 2 A rural
 
 [ 28 ] 
 
 A rural, kind Retreat from all the cares, 
 Which bufy Commerce for her Sons prepares. 
 Tranflucent Deva the green Valley laves, 
 And darkling Alders fcreen her vvand'ring waves, 
 Till flow fhe rifes from o'er-hanging Shades, 
 And, feen at diftance, thro' the opening Glades, 
 With bank lefs veil'd, and ftrearas that mildly fhine, 
 Leads round the lonely Hills her iilver line. 
 
 In that fweet Dale, and by a Mountain's fide, 
 Whofe fhelt'ring heights the angry North deride, 
 Abode, f© late, of Cheerfulnefs and Eafe, 
 White gleams the Manlion 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, 
 AfTum'd new grace, and wore a fofter mein, 
 From the bleft thought, that foon the nuptial Hour 
 Wou'd lead Louisa to my native bow'r ! 
 
 '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 lliew'd 
 
 EuGENio's welcome to the green abode. 
 
 A Father's elevating gladnefs, prov'd 
 
 How dear the prefence of the Son he lov'd. 
 
 My gentle Mother, archly fmiling, preft 
 
 The love-lick Wand'rcr 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, 
 
 Th' acknowledg'd pride of all the neighbouring Shades, 
 
 Met me with bounding ftep, and joyous mein. 
 
 And rays of tranfport brighten'd 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 thlrft of wealth reproach'd my plighted vow ; 
 He fcorn'd to name Louisa's want of gold, 
 But gladly liften'd while her worth I told. 
 Pleas'd has he feen her in this melting eye, 
 Pleas'd with her name, half whifper'd in a figh ; 
 
 Then
 
 [ 30 3 
 Then wou'd I grafp his hand, and ardent fay, 
 " Oft riiall my Parents blefs our bridal Day, 
 Since from that Soul of fweetnefs, they fhall fhare 
 A Daughter's tendernefs, an Angel's care ; 
 For hers each Virtue, and each Grace refin'd, 
 That breathe on Lovelinefs the glov/ of Mind, 
 And, with aiTiduous Duty's cheering pow'r. 
 Strew Life's worn path with ev'ry filial flow'r." 
 
 One Eve, as on the fhady bank I rode, 
 Where thro' new Dales the beauteous Deva flow'd, 
 Loit'ring I liften to the Red-breaft clear, 
 The laft, lone Songfter of the waining Year. 
 Lifrht o'er the leaves fweet Autumn breathes ferene. 
 And tips with gold their yet untaded green. 
 Now many a vapor blue the ftream 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 (liades of Night impede 
 My roving courfe, which penfive mufings 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 ; 
 While, as around thofe Rocks the River glides, 
 White moon-beams tremble in the glancing tides. 
 
 Sudden, wild founds are borne along the gales ! 
 The picrciiig fhriek my ftartled ear affails ! 
 But fcarce a moment, with checked 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, oppoling flood, 
 I pierce the tangled mazes of the Wood. 
 On fib'rous Oaks, that roughen all the ground, 
 My Steed's fleet hoofs, with hollow noife, refound ; 
 And doubled by the echoes from the caves. 
 Appal a guilty band of delp'rate Slaves ; 
 For loon, in ruthlefs, felon-gripe, I found 
 A beauteous Female, fcreaming on the ground ; 
 
 Dragg'd 
 
 * Moon of Ceres, the Harvcft Moon.
 
 [ 3^ ] 
 Dragg'd from her Horfe, that graz'd unconfcious near, 
 Her treffes torn, and frantic with her fear. 
 Two liv'ried 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 diredlion, 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 Murd'rer's brain ; 
 With one demoniac glance, as down he fell, 
 The Soul ftarts furious from its vital cell. 
 
 Then tender Pity, and afliduous care, ./ • 
 
 Condu(ft me fwiftly to the fwooning Fair. 
 The light, cool drops, fcoop'd from the neighb'ring Spring, 
 O'er her pale brow folicitous I fling ; 
 
 Till
 
 [ 33 ] 
 
 Till Life's warm tide, which long the Heart detains, 
 Returns, flow purpl'ing the forfaken veins. 
 
 In one deep figh, as Recolledlion came, 
 It wakens Gratitude's impetuous flame. 
 
 " For more than Life," exclaims the trembling Maid, 
 ** I ftand indebted to thy gen'rous aid." 
 
 * Ceafe, Fair-One, ceafe. — ^^well might this arm deferve 
 That deadlieft Palfles wither ev'ry nerve, 
 Had it refus'd the aid to thee it gave, 
 Or coward fliunn'd the duty of the Brave ! 
 But let me now, fince 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 fliall her fteps receive, 
 That hofpitable affluence knows to give.' 
 
 This faid, her trembling Form, with anxious hafte. 
 My twining arms on her light Courfer placed ; 
 
 F Then,
 
 [ 3+ ] 
 Then, as emerging from the darkling Wood, 
 Along the moon-bright Dales we flowly rode, 
 Surpris'd 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 lide it gleams. 
 And to the Moon, in trembling luftre, ftreams ! 
 
 Dear Emma, that the fplendid garb cou'd gain, 
 E'en in an hour exempt from grief and pain 
 Th' attentive gaze, proves my devoted heart 
 From eyes fo bright met no refiftlefs dart ; 
 For when the Maid Love's potent ceftus wears, 
 The jealous God no glance dividual bears. 
 
 Ah ! in thofe halcyon days, a Mind at eafe 
 Empower'd flight things to intereft, and to pleafe ; 
 
 That
 
 [ 35 ] 
 
 That Mem'ry fliould their faded tints relume, 
 
 When Deprivation's deepeft fliadows 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; 
 
 With trivial circumftance retard the pen. 
 
 E'er languid Solitude iliall lovv'r again y 
 
 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 afiualive reft, 
 
 Found only on Compaifion'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, Affedlion waits ; 
 But as I lead the bright diftinguifti'd Maid, 
 Explain her danger, and my profp'rous aid, 
 
 F 2 11k-
 
 [ 36 ] 
 
 The dear Inhabitants around her move, 
 
 With deep refped, kind care, and gen'rous love. 7 
 
 And foon we learn, our peaceful walls contain 
 The fplendid Heirefs of a vaft Domain, 
 Emir A, fhe, vt^hofe wealth, and charms infpire, 
 The croud of titled Youth with am'rous fire ; 
 While Rumour paints her, 'midft th' obfequious Train, 
 Tho' frolic, infolent, tho' haughty, vain. 
 But to our eyes, thefe wild and wand'ring fires 
 Are fcreen'd by dfing Hopes, and gay Defires ; 
 For ftill, the parting Hour with care delay'd, 
 Emir A loiters in Ernesto's fhade ; 
 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 PaiHon's warmeft tone. 
 
 " Loft to the World, for ever could I dwell 
 *' In the dear precinds of this fylvan Cell j 
 
 *' Renounce 
 
 * EuGENio's Sifter.
 
 t 37 ] 
 ** Renoiince each vain, tho' once ador'd delight, ■ • 
 " That 4yripates the Day,' or gilds the Night ; . i-iT 
 " That can each gay feducing art employ, ru vi/^il' 
 To flatter Beauty, and infpirit Joy." 
 
 (C 
 
 Thus the proud Maid, of all her fcorn difarm'd. 
 By flrange, and partial preference flrongly charm'd, 
 Feels a new Eden ileal upon the bow'rs, 
 And chides with iighs the fwiftly fleeting Hours; 
 Still at the cheerful Board, or as fhe roves 
 Along the Plain, or lingers in th^ Groves, 
 Each glowing wifli, from new-born Pafllon fprung, 
 Each foft diforder, on her eye-lids hung, 
 At my approach reveal, tho' much in vain, 
 What words are little wanted" to explairfi-bboO 3ril 
 Vain! had I never feen the matchlefs grace, ' 
 
 The touching fweetnefs of Loui-sa's face; 
 Where from -each feature beaiiis, or mildly plays, 
 Refined intelligence, with varying rays ; 
 Where native dignity, with air ferene, 
 Confcious, not arrogant, adorns her mein ; 
 
 While
 
 [ 38 ] 
 
 While from thbfe 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 Eugenio to her arms-;' 
 
 For oh ! the fever'd languor of the eye, 
 
 The reftlefs bluflies,. the voluptuoois figh^j -jrh ?;jffT 
 
 Th' impatient haughtinefs, but half conceal' d:>.ii.i^i (u. 
 
 The rage of pleafure iiveach glance revxal'dv-rt i? 
 
 Tho', in. youth's fervid hours, perchance, ithey fire 
 
 The kindling ardours of unaw'd Defire, 
 
 Quench, while the tranfiertt flames their force impart^. 
 
 The torch of Paffion, e'er it reach the Heart.. -. [■; doLll 
 
 'Twas thus the youthful Ithacan furvey'd 
 The Goddefs Nymph, beneath her magic Shade; 
 While Eucharis' mild beauties foil'd the fway 
 Of charms, that deck'd the Daughter of the Day ; 
 By Love protedled, 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 vefl, 
 
 And,
 
 [ 39 ] 
 
 And on her blooming cheek the treffes bright, 
 That play'd in wavy wreaths of golden light, 
 Or on her fnowy bofom, fhining fell, 
 Like a warm Sun-beam oa a Lilly's bell. 
 
 Not more Emir a's charms my Soul engage, 
 The fair Calypfo of a fenfual age ; 
 And than licentious Beauty lefs, ' the (lores 
 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 Paflion, rankling in her heart, 
 I urge iny- gentle Sifters to reveal 
 All my charm'd fenfes for Louisa feci ; 
 The worth, the graces, which around her wait, 
 And all the fmiling profped of our fate. 
 
 E M I R A
 
 C 40 I 
 
 Em IRA Hftens with impaiHon'd fcorn, 
 Of wounded Pride, .&vsd rival Anger born.i b'"»(jaq i^dV 
 Unwifh'd, unwelcome^ as the theine arofe^ A no lO 
 Her clouded cheek in. deep fiaffufion glows, j.Uwj 
 
 Proudly exclaiming, — " Can Eugenio prove 
 '' Cold, ^ad obdupate t€) my lavifh Love? ~A 
 
 " Has Beauty's magje zoiie toy bofom bound, 
 " Does Rank exdlt me, anid has Fbrtune crown'dy 
 *' That faint attradlions^ in '^ Village Maid .'jl IcdT 
 
 " Should fhield the Paffions which thefe eyes irtV'ade ? ' 
 " Irhpoffible ! — but oh ! thy lips impart 
 " The fting of jealoufy, that goads my heart. --'- rh-iW 
 "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 wifh'd triumph at the fhrine of Love, 
 " And by comparifon of brighter charms, 
 ** To light Eugenio to Emi r a's arms." 
 
 Thus, while felf-flatt'ring Pride her Mind aflures. 
 The artful Fair-One fpreads her varied lures ; 
 
 Sometimes
 
 r 4t ] 
 
 Sometimes, with archnefs laughing in her eyes, 
 
 Hangs on my arm, and ridicules my iighs ; 
 
 And oft with coyer tendernefs appears, 
 
 While Love's warm glances fteal thro' fhining tears ; 
 
 Now, with arch'd brow, and fupercilious ftare, 
 
 Affedls the emprefs-dignity of air ; 
 
 And now, as reas'ning 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 dictates, my attention draws. 
 
 Far in the Wilds I wander thro' the Day, 
 
 And to a lowly Cot at midnight ftray ; 
 AThere tafte the fweetnefs of that deep repofe, 
 / vWhich from applauding Confcience gently flows, 
 > When Health, and Hope their downy pinions fpread, 
 , And fcattcr rofcs on the youthful bed. 
 
 G Light
 
 [ 42 ] 
 Light with the Dawn difperfe my tender dreams ; 
 And now the Sun looks golden on the ftreams ! — 
 O Morn ! the laft for me that gaily rofe, 
 On Mem'ry's tablet flill thy beauty glows. 
 Charm'd, 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'ft fliould ne'er again be mine ! 
 
 On as I rov'd along the winding Glades, 
 A Youth in hafte the fylvan Copfe pervades ! 
 Says, his commiilion inftantly recalls 
 My devious ftep to the paternal walls., 
 Upon the ruftic countenance appears 
 A fix'd folemnity, that wakes my fears. — 
 *' Oh ! is all well ?" — with breathlefs hafle I cry, 
 " Thy Friends are well," — his falt'ring lips reply ,j. 
 Then dread, left fad intelligence invade 
 The precious quiet of my native Shade,. 
 Sickens my heart ; — and fwiftly as I go. 
 From ray pale lip diforder'd accents flow ; , 
 
 Eacli
 
 [ 43 ] 
 
 Each moment, for Louis a's Life, arife 
 Pray'rs, 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 filvcr tones E u g e n i o call ! 
 No bounding foot-flep 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 Caflle-walls thou led'ft thy Train, 
 O * Hardiknute ! fuch pangs as thefe oppreft, 
 In Hope's warm hour, thy brave, and vet'ran 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 lilent ftand, 
 And daunt the ftoutcft heart in Scotia's Land I 
 
 G 2 Ap- 
 
 * See tlic admired fcotch fragment, Hardiknute, in Percy's collection of ancient poetry.
 
 [ 44 ] 
 Appall'd, like him, I felt the ftillnefs dire ; 
 Eager to learn — not daring to enquire, 
 As one transfix'd, a few dread minutes wait, 
 While filent Horror fhrouds impending Fate! 
 
 My Father enter' d — ^with a cheek how pale ! 
 And oh ! that look 1 — it told an awful tale ! 
 'Twas mournful ! — fupplicating ! — " Heav'nly Pow'rs 1 
 ^* In that dim gaze how deep an anguifli low'rs ! 
 ** Louisa t 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 beftows ; 
 ** Oh ! may it long be her's ! — but now remains 
 " A tafk for me, replete with fliarpeft pains !«— ■ 
 ** EuGENio! — Penury's dire blafts affail, 
 " And Hope is frozen in the bitter gale ! 
 " Yes, — B ELM OR has deceiv'd my boundlefs truft, 
 " To Friendfhip treach'rous, and to Faith unjuft I 
 " Unhappy Hour, when Confidence intire 
 " Lur'd me to follow that milleading fire, 
 
 « Thofe
 
 It 45 J 
 " Thofe gay commercial vifions, falfe, and vain, 
 " The glitt'ring meteors of his artfiil 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 paufing, 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 ! 
 ** Perfuafion fhall not urge — nor pray'rs intice. 
 
 a 
 
 Two
 
 [ -46 ] 
 
 " Two hours e'er thy return, Emir a found 
 " Thy Sifters eyes in ftreaming torrents drown'd ; 
 *' Learn'd, from their trembUng 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 fav'rite.fhade. 
 
 " We know that Fortune on Emir a pours 
 *' Her golden treafures in unftinted fliow'rs.— - 
 " EuGENio ! — fhe ftands ready to replace 
 " Thy Father's comforts on a lading bafe ! 
 * ' Refcue his falling Fame ! — the numbers fave, 
 " Whofe hopes in his deftrudion find a grave ; 
 " And lisht, 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 {harp Diftrefs at laft to name it driv'n ! — 
 " Thy hand to her, — e'en at the ALTAR giv'n ! — 
 *' Alas ! th' impoffibility e'en now 
 *' Glooms in the grief, the horror of thy brow ! — 
 
 "Oh!
 
 [ +7 I 
 
 " Oh 1 for myfelf- — I could not wifh 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 /i6w from thee. 
 
 *' Thou know^ft, when Peace, and Plenty's jocund Pow'rs 
 " Hung their ripe clufters round our blooming bow'rs, 
 ** The joys that Love, not thofe which Wealth impart, 
 ** Form'd the warm wifli for thee, that fiU'd my heart ; 
 " But now — Eugenic liften ! — -could'ft thou bear 
 " Louisa's breaft this weight of woes fhould fhare ? 
 " Would'ft thou the bloffoms 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 extraded, they are barb'd by Love," 
 
 Here
 
 Q 4^!^ II 
 Here fighs, that feem'd to fhake his frame, betray'd 
 How deep he. felt the forrows he pourtrayM;/ 
 But yet, tho' ftill' his heart with, anguifli bled, 
 Fail'd 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 wifli to quench the torch that gilds thy Life, 
 " Sweet PoJJibility ! 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 Belmor's art 
 " Muft 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 honeft triumph of a fpotlefs name; 
 
 " E'en
 
 [ 49 ] 
 
 *' E'en when the Heart dares to itfelf appeal 
 
 " From blind Injuftice, and mifguided Zeal ! 
 
 " Their torrent Reafon ftrives to ftcm in vain, 
 
 *' Truth pleads to Air, if Prejudice arraign. 
 
 " Her cenfures daily level with the Bafe 
 
 " A thou land names, no adtual crimes difgrace ; 
 
 " Pull down the fame a Life of virtue built, 
 
 " And ftamp 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, 
 
 " Perchance a deeper fhadow o'er 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 ! 
 
 " The fweet Companion of my lengthen'd Life ! 
 
 " Thy Mother ! — for whofe peace, and health, my cares, 
 
 ** My fond attention, my inceflant pray'rs 
 
 " The Day, and Night beheld !— Oh ! muft I fee 
 
 " That dear One pine in helplefs Poverty ? 
 
 " While pale, and trembling, finks the vital flame, 
 
 " Muft her foft, delicate, and feeble Frame, 
 
 H *^To
 
 [ 50 ] 
 
 *' To Charity's donation, cold, and fcant, 
 
 " Owe its exemption from extremeft want? 
 
 " Can I fee this — unable to obtain 
 
 " Thofe common comforts the Laborious gain, 
 
 *' Confcious, my own infatuate ralhnefs 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 honour'd Burden preft, 
 As his funk cheek felt cold upon my breaft, 
 What words can paint the deep diftrefs I bore, 
 What Horror fm^ote 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 anguifli 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 PafTions fly. 
 Nor dare diffolve great Nature's primal tie.. 
 
 " 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 favT thee, he refused to five ? 
 The torturing felf-reproach muft rend his brain, 
 And wake to phrenzy the remorfeful pain. 
 But O my Love ! — yet pardon me ! — I go 
 Alone to ftem conflidling tides oi woe ! 
 I go, to teach my Soul her arduous tafk. 
 And gain by pray'r 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 llione, 
 And falt'ring accents ardent bleft his Son. 
 
 Then up the Mountain's fteep, and craggy lidc, 
 With ftep precipitate, I wildly ftride ; 
 Now ftung with tortures of the laft defpair ; 
 Now funk in grief ; — now energiz'd by pray'r ; 
 Nor yet in vain th' heart rending efforts prove. 
 Warm Duty rifes over bleeding Love ! 
 
 H 2 The
 
 [ 52 ] 
 The ftru^gle paft ! — my peace !— my freedom given ! 
 Thy anchor Hope, on fhorelefs oceans driv'n ! 
 What then to juftice, or to Love remain'd, 
 But to reflore the heart, my vows had gain'd ? 
 Wrench from Louisa's breafk its cherifh'd bane, 
 And nobly the laft facrifice fuflain ? 
 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' indignant {^nfe of barter'd Truth 
 Quench the difafl'rous Paflion of her Youth ; 
 Now doom'd to darken every Hope, that cheers, 
 With fliining promifes, the rifing years ! 
 Had I the dread neceflity explained, 
 That with refiftlefs 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 giv'n me back, with Pity's fofteft brow, 
 Of Love fo ruinous, the ill-ilarr'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 ; 
 
 Ordain'd to mourn — unable to forget ; 
 
 That pine in Solitude the live-long Day, 
 
 Feed on the heart, and fteal the life away. 
 
 Louisa's pity had my fuff 'rings found. 
 Somewhat it fure had balm'd th' embofom'd wound ; 
 But flnce e'en her dear fympathy was weak, 
 Of Fate's dread fhaft th' envenom'd point to break, 
 I fl:rove to avert the flow-confuming pain. 
 And for the conflidi, arm'd her with difdain ; 
 That cruel conflid, which the Paflions prove, 
 E'er high-foul'd Scorn I'ubdues a rooted Love. 
 
 Still, to my Being's lateft 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+3 
 
 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 ! 
 
 But yet, — when paft the expiatory doom, 
 When Mifery's fhafts lie broken on my tomb, 
 Th' exploring gaze, fweet Emma, kindly bend 
 On the dear bofom of thy beauteous Friend ; 
 If thou fhalt mark, that cold contempt fuftains 
 That feat of foftnefs from affaulting Pains ; 
 That no dim tears her cheek's warm rofes pale. 
 No fighs of anguifh fwell the lonely gale, 
 Whofe murmurs o'er the grafs-green fod fhall rife, 
 Where, cold, and peaceful, loft E u g e n i o lies, 
 Then, that thou name me not^ 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 felfifh wifli 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 Divine fhall clear, 
 The film, that mortal Chance had darkened there j 
 Fond Mem'ry's deep reproach for aye remove, 
 And pleading Seraphs reunite our Love ! 
 
 But Oh ! lliould Pity, with intrufive fway, 
 Range her fad Images in dire array, 
 And to Louis a's mental fight difclofe 
 The bed of Death, — the agonizing throes ; 
 Oh ! fiiould £he think fhe fees in ftruggles rife 
 That breath, which wak'd for her the fondeft fishs ! 
 Thofe Eyes, whofe foftnefs fiiall 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 (he, 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. 
 
 My
 
 [ 56 ] 
 Mv dear Louisa! — pardon him, who ftrove 
 By means fo feeming harlli, to quench thy Love ! 
 Hard was the tailc, that kindnefs to refign, 
 Which my torn bofom could demand of thine ; 
 Efteem, that might have borne eternal date, 
 Since plac'd, by Virtue, paft the reach of Fate ; 
 That blefs'd compaflion, my fad lot had won, 
 A Wretch by Fortune, not by Crimes undone ; 
 Tliefe 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 gen'rous Love the effort made, 
 Thy quiet afk'd ; — I trembled — and obey'd ! 
 
 When to that purer World our Souls are borne, 
 Where ev'ry veil from ev'ry 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 THE SECOND EPISTLE.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 O U I S A 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 WRITTEN THE DAY AFTER SHE HAD RECEIV'D FROM HER 
 E U G E N I O ' s EXCULPATING LETTER. 
 
 April 21ft, 178.1. 
 
 01 Thou foft Hope, that once fo fweetly fhed 
 Thy gayeft luftres on my favor'd head, 
 What, tho' no more the lively joy remains, 
 That trac'd thy light ftep o'er thefe earthly plains. 
 Yet, piercing now Defpair's incumbent fliroud. 
 Soft Hope, thou lookeft from yon parting cloud ; 
 And my lov'd Emma's hand the vifion fhews, 
 That fmiles my ftruggling Spirit to repofe ! 
 
 I Bright
 
 ■C 58 ] ■ 
 
 Bright in Eugenio's vindicated truth, 
 That viiion lights anew my drooping youth ; 
 For, in perfpedive beauteous, it difplays 
 A long Eternity of blifsful Days ; 
 Of all thofe facred joys our Souls fhall prove 
 ** When pleading Seraphs reunite our Love." 
 
 'Tis true, E u g e n i o, thro* Life's thorny way. 
 In far divided paths our fteps fhall ftray ; 
 It is not given us, when rude blafts aflail. 
 And pale Misfortune breathes the bitter gale. 
 It is not given, to temper, and afiuage. 
 Each for the other's breaft, its cruel rage ; 
 Nor mutually to feel the cheering rays. 
 When Health, and Joy infpirit Summer-days. 
 Our little Barks, their flatt'ring Port in view. 
 Fate, on Life's billowy furge, afunder threw j 
 Friend of ray Soul ! 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 infiduous coaft ! 
 
 The
 
 [ 59 ] 
 
 The deep and troubled floods, it knew to brave ! 
 It rifes buoyant on the ftormy wave ! 
 Vain are thofe Storms, by which its courfe is driv'n, 
 Since fure, tho' diftant, is the port of Heav'n. 
 
 My dear Eugenio, the dread Voice will prove 
 Indulgent to the frail excefs of Love, 
 Which to fuch fad extremes would blindly run, 
 Lavifli of health, and fick'ning at the Sun ; 
 Since, while an unaccufing Confcience threw 
 Th' eternal portals open to my view. 
 My Spirit funk, a prey to fond Defpair, 
 And coldly view'd that Heav'n thou could'ft not fhare ; 
 Soil'd with its griefs thofe amaranthine flow'rs, 
 Inwove by Faith in bright Religion's bow'rs. 
 Angel of Mercy ! thou wilt gently breathe 
 Exhaling fighs upon that fullied wreath ; 
 And the dim ftains of my impatient tears, 
 Impaffion'd yearnings, and defponding fears, 
 Shall vanifh, as chill dews that Morning throws, 
 By Summer Winds are wafted from the Rofe ! 
 
 I 2 O!
 
 [ 60 ] 
 O ! how o'er-joy'd my dazzled fight furvey'd 
 Thefe words, in Emma's characters pourtray'd, 
 " 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 ? 
 Heav'n ! with what force thefe hands, thefe eyes, impell'd, 
 Seize the known characters, fo long with-held ! 
 While ev'ry 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 fays 'tis fo." 
 Then did I read, and weep, and throb, and glow, 
 Approve, abfolve, admire, and fmile, and figh, 
 Till penfive Peace fhone mildly in my eye ; 
 
 Back
 
 [ 6. ] 
 
 Back with that loft efteem, my heart deplor'd, 
 The Wand'rer came, with half her rights reftor'd. 
 
 So lucklefs C L A I R M o N t's thorny path fhe fmooths ; 
 So his fharp fenfe of many an ill flie fooths ; 
 One dear recover'd Hope his grief beguiles, 
 And, 'midft the wreck of all the reft, he fmiles. 
 Emma, 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 interpoftng tide. 
 Remembrance fees him on the Sea-beach ftand, 
 His fair Clarissa weeping on his hand. 
 With anxious fmiles her varying cheek he dries. 
 And talks of profp'rous Winds, and fav'ring Skies. 
 Clear was the Sky, and gentle were the Gales, 
 And wide and waving ftream'd the fnowy Sails ; 
 While, tOiTmg the green fea-weed o'er, and o'er. 
 Crept the hufh'd billow on the fbelly ftiore ; 
 Soft as th' autumnal breeze among the fheaves, 
 Or gently ruftling in the fallen leaves ; 
 
 And
 
 [ 6a ] 
 
 And rolling in blue Light the wat'ry Way 
 With frofted filver feem'd bedropt, and gay. 
 
 Impatient Clairmont led his penfive Bride, 
 As flow fhe fcal'd the Veffel's ftately Tide. 
 So fmooth the Seas, the tall Bark feem'd to lleep, 
 While her gay Pennants ting'd the glafly Deep. 
 Day after Day mild Breezes frefhen'd round, 
 Till Skies alone the mighty Waters bound. 
 
 But now, far diftant from Britannia's ihore, 
 Round craggy Steeps where angry billows roar, '' 
 
 Rife the dark Winds I — 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 fhrill voice, fhrieks in the rending fhrouds, 
 As whirls the dizzy Veffel to the clouds ; 
 Or prone flioots fwiftly to the billowy vale, 
 While the wet Seaman's alt'ring cheek is pale. 
 
 Th(
 
 [ 63 ] 
 
 The whirling Ship the guiding Rudder mocks, 
 It ftrikes !-^-it burfts upon the bulging Rocks ! 
 Unhappy Clairmont, who had vainly tried 
 In the tofs'd Boat to place his beauteous Bride, 
 Sees, on the Deck, pale, trembling, as {he flood. 
 The fudden Billow daih her to the Flood ; 
 While on the riven plank himfelf convey'd. 
 With only Life, beneath a ftranger Shade, 
 Wakes from the briny trance, and wakes to know. 
 Of Fate's dark ftores, the moft accomplifli'd Woe ! 
 Borne by a friendly Sail, that now he ftands 
 A ruin'd Wand'rer on his native Lands, 
 Seems little ; — Love's feverer tortures reign 
 With force defpotic, and exclufive pain. 
 
 This borne, from month to month, and year to year, 
 At length, unlook'd for tidings charm his ear ; 
 His fair Clarissa lives ! — on coafts unknown 
 Wreck'd, like himfelf, unfriended and alone, 
 By deftiny fevere, an haplcfs Slave, 
 Pines on rude ihores beyond th' Atlantic wave ; 
 
 Yet
 
 [ 64 ] 
 
 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 ! 
 In that dear hope pale Mis'ry's tortures ceafe, 
 And agony fublides almoft to peace. 
 
 So I — but to EuGENlo fwift 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 ! — that Soul-diftrading pain, 
 Whofe unexpeded 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, ftern Fate commands. 
 Who throws her edids with fuch ruthlefs hands J 
 
 But
 
 [ 63 ] 
 
 But greater Ills', remov'd, 'the kfs remain 
 
 Shorn of their pomted fliiigs, and loft their banc. • 
 
 Say, in Louis a's breaft no longer glow 
 
 The inward fires of Life-confuming Woe ; 
 
 Diftant alike from Pain's incumbent gloom, 
 
 And fprightly Pleafure's gaily-kindling bloom^ . ' 
 
 The vital Pow'rs 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 Fafclijer, prove 
 
 Virtuous, and great, as in his filial love ! 
 
 I too fhall 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 cheiiili'd breaft. 
 O Night ! the firft exempt from wildeft throes 
 Of fevcr'd Pain, that chas'd the fliort repofe, 
 Since my Eugenio's feeming coldnefs ftrove, 
 Alas ! how much in vain ! to quench my Love. 
 
 K Yes
 
 [ 66 ] 
 
 Yes, I fhall live to expiate by* a Mind 
 Bow'd to its fate, and cheerfully reiign'di if' • 
 The dangerous rafhnefs, which my peace had thrown 
 On human chance, and errors not my own. 
 
 Here, to my fav'rite bow'r, 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 j 
 And here to thee, my Friend, 1 ufed to grieve, 
 When Life could charm no more, nor Hope deceive ; 
 And here, my long affli6led Spirit, freed 
 From that barb'd fhaft, on which it wont to bleed, 
 Now bids its foften'd feelings gently flow, 
 To her, who draws the deadly fting 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 frefli cool gales, that undulating pafs, 
 With fhadowy fweep, along the bending grafs. — 
 
 Now
 
 [ 67 ] 
 
 No\V thVow the fhnibs and trees the leno;thcn'd fhiide 
 On the fmooth turf diftincl ! — and now they fade, 
 As iinks the Sun, behind a cloud withdrawn, 
 That late unveil'd fhone yellow on the lawn. 
 Soft o'er the Vale, from this my fav'rite feat, 
 Serene I mark the vagrant beauties fleet ; 
 In different lights the changing features trace, 
 Catch the bright form, and paint the fhadowy grace. 
 Where the ■ light -Afli, and browner Oak extend. 
 And high in Aii: theit' mingled branches bend, O 
 
 The moffy bank, beneath their trembling bow'rs, 
 Arifes, fragrant with uncultur'd flow'rs, 
 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 glaffy beauties hide. 
 As from beneath them fteals the wand'ring tide. 
 And down the Valley carclefs winds away. 
 While in its ftreams the glancing Sun-beams play. 
 
 K 2 But
 
 i 68 ] 
 
 But where the Greenwood-hill with arching fliade, 
 Opes the light Villa up the winding Glade, 
 I ft:e a venerable Form dcfcend ; 
 His {low fleps falter as they hither bend. 
 Soft lifts the breeze the locks of filver grey, 
 And gentleft meanings his mild looks convey! 
 Stranger, whoe'er thou art, thy faded face 
 And bending Form have many a touching grace. 
 
 He flops ! 1 haften to explore the caufe 
 
 Of that fix'd gaze ! — of that impaiTion'd paufe ! 
 
 END OF THE THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 NOTE,
 
 [ (") ] 
 
 NOTE, ]JJpoN reading this third Epiftle to a Friend, 
 he obferved, that perhaps a comparifon of Louisa's own fitua- 
 tion with the harder fate of her Lover, and her tender pity for the 
 inevitable miferies of fuch a union, might have been acceptable 
 in the place of the epifode of Clairmont, and the defcription 
 of the bower; but it fliould be confidered, that Louisa wrote 
 under the immediate impreflion of her extacy to find Eugenio 
 guiltlefs j that her Mind was not fober'd enough for reflection. 
 To have inveftigated the unhappy lot of her Lover mufl have been 
 a melancholy employment. Eafed of an oppreflive weight of 
 mifery her exhilarated fpirits admit not, fo early, any painful ideas. 
 She does not difcriminate, (he felicitates her dcftiny. Her fym- 
 pathy in the fate of her Friends grow more lively — flie recolledls 
 the fituation of Clairmont — Joy is naturally loquacious, and 
 fhe is gratified in relating his flory to her Emma. She awakens 
 with new vivacity to the impreflions of pleafure, which her Mind 
 was accuftomed to receive from fccnic objcdls. The propenfity to 
 dwell on them prevailed even in the hours of her unhappinefs. It 
 is an habit which compares and afllmilates the fmiling, or thf 
 
 gloomy
 
 [ 7° ] 
 
 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 
 bow'r. To imprefs'd w^ith 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 EPISTLE. 
 
 O U I S A 
 
 T O 
 
 EMMA, 
 
 April 25th, 1781. 
 
 /^4 H ! my lov'd Emma, I have much to tell, 
 ^^^ Since laft I fcnt thee an abrupt farewell ; 
 But be the chain of thofe events regained, 
 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. 
 
 Rifing impatient from the molfy feat, 
 With afking eyes, the ftrangcr Gucft I meet j 
 
 He
 
 [ 72 ] 
 He claf|^:)5' my harvd h — Oh ! in that lopk'^ ber^^gn, 
 What rays of love, and angel-pity fhine ! 
 Swett cordial confidence my bofom cheers, 
 Y^t thrilling flart th^ foft fpontaneous tears. '; 
 
 * What chance, or gen'rous Impulfe, may I blefs, 
 
 * Thrice gentle Stranger, for this kind addrefs ; 
 
 * That thy^'vthou vifiteft this lonely Grove, 
 
 * And gazeft on me with paternal love ? ' 
 
 " Ah! fweet Louisa," the mild Form replies. 
 His words flow mingling with the rifing fighs, 
 " Behold in me, the fource of all the woes, 
 " That paled on thy fair cheek the early rofe ! 
 " But thou art gen'rous, 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! " 
 
 With pleas'd furprize my beating heart expands ; 
 My fwifter tears fall copious on his hands ; 
 
 My
 
 [ 73 ] 
 
 My trembling knee involuntary bends, 
 
 For deepeft reverence with my tranfport blends. 
 
 * O Heav'n ! 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 tenderncfs difplay'd. 
 
 ' All, all is known ! — no felfifh murmurs rife, 
 
 * Nor groans arraign the mandate of the {kies ; 
 
 * Nobly E u G E N I o 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 ; 
 
 t 
 
 * But vani^h'd now is Mifery's ruthlefs fmart, 
 
 * Tho' fad, not wretched, my devoted Heart ; 
 
 * And oh! fince poor Louisa thus obtains 
 
 * Thy gen'rous love, thy foothing pity gains, 
 
 * On them each fond regret fhall fink to reft, 
 
 ' Nor Mcm'ry whifper, how fhe once was blcft.' 
 
 L '' Honor'd
 
 [ 74 ] 
 " Honor'd Louisa! fair angelic Maid, 
 *' With ev'ry blefling be thy worth repaid ! i 
 
 " But Time flies rapidly! — the leaft delay 
 "111 fuits th' important meflage 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 — aflionifli'd — trembling — faint — and pale. 
 My hurried fl:ep he haften'd to the Vale ; 
 And foon, as feated by his lide I rode. 
 Thus, from his lip, Emira's flory flow'd. 
 
 * When to the Altar my unhappy Son 
 ' Led the gay Bride, whom all unfought he won, 
 ' Penflve his eye, and ferious was his air ; 
 ' Tho', with attentive, and rcfpedtful care, 
 
 * He flrove to hide the forrows of his Soul, 
 
 * But could not oft their burfling flgh controul, 
 
 * Bright, and adorn'd, as came the high-born Maid, 
 
 * In ev'ry lavifh elegance array'd. 
 
 * Yet
 
 [ 75 ] 
 
 * Yet oft I faw, that inaufpicious Morn, 
 
 * From fmother'd conrcioiifnefs, the tranfient fcorn 
 
 * Caft lurid llame at times, amid the joy 
 
 * That glow'd voluptuous in her ardent eye, 
 
 * When ihe perceiv'd, no ray of; fond dc-{ire 
 
 * Met her warm glance, or authoris'd its fire ; 
 
 * Saw deep-felt anguifli in her Bridegroom prove 
 ' The pow'r fupreme of violated Love ; 
 
 ' And oft his notice, courteous, yet conftrain'd, 
 
 * Eager llie fought ; receiving it, difdain'd ; 
 
 * And ftiii each day increas'd' the v^ain chagrin, 
 
 * And wak'd new fallies of malicious fpleen ; 
 ' The pcnfive homage of a wounded Alind, 
 
 * Tho' grateful, fad, and, without ardor, kind, 
 
 * Seem'd to reproach thofe eyes, as pow'rlefs grown, 
 
 * Whofe glance, fliedeem'd, might make theWorld her own. 
 
 ' Unjuft Emir A ! that could'ft hope to gain 
 ' Love's glowing homage from an Heart in pain ; 
 ' Thou fhould'ft have footh'd th' involuntary fmart, 
 ' And with his friendship fatished thy lieart j 
 
 L 2 * Thus
 
 [ 76 ] 
 
 ' Thus fweetj and gentle, thou had'ft quickly won 
 
 * That grateful tribute from my gen'rous Son ; 
 
 * But well he knew, thy vain ill-govern'd Mind, 
 
 * Nor foft compafTion knew, nor love refined ; 
 ' So unregretful faw thy wafted hours 
 
 * Refign'd to Diflipation's reftlefs pow'rs ; 
 
 * Yet wifh'd thofe pow js a kind relief might prove 
 < To the pain'd {(^n(G 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 Ihe fhares, 
 
 ' The gay Emira 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 refled:, 
 
 * What pricelefs peace her wild purfuits negled ! 
 
 < On
 
 [ 77 ] 
 ' Oil me propitious Heav'n the povv'r beftow'd 
 
 * To cancel the vaft debt my fortunes ow'd 
 ' To proud Emir a — 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 mis'ry 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 pow'r ; 
 
 * 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 difaft'rous day ; 
 
 * For what idea can more painful rife, 
 
 * Than much to owe, where owing we defpife ? 
 
 ' One
 
 [ 78 ] 
 
 ' One fcene, alas ! my heart can ne'er forget, 
 ' Nor Mem'ry paint it without keen regret 
 ' That in the female breaft, fo form'd to prove, 
 
 * The fvveet refinements of maternal Love, 
 
 * DifJain, and guilty Pleafure, fhould controul, 
 ' And to its yearnings indurate the Soul. 
 
 ' Confummate from her toilette's anxious tafk, 
 
 * Em IRA, hafl'ning to the midnight Mafk, 
 
 ' Th' Apartment enter'd, where Eugenio flood, • 
 ' And near me lean'd, in deeply muling mood. 
 
 * My folding arms their rofy Infant preft 
 
 ' 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 iigh, 
 
 * As the licentious veftment caught his eye ; 
 ' The lofty turban, from whofe lurface rais'd, 
 
 * Glitter'd the iilver plume, the diamond blaz'd ; 
 
 * The fnowy veil, in foft diforder thrown, 
 
 * The bofom, riling from the loofen'd zone, 
 
 * And
 
 [ 79 ] 
 
 * And limbs, by golden mullin ill conceard, 
 
 * Whofe clinging folds their perfeft form reveal'd. 
 
 - ' With heart-felt pain the injur'd Hiifband 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 Serao-lio's wanton Inmate loft ! 
 
 * Seizing her ftruggling hand, Eugenio tries 
 
 * To warn the fair Devoted, e'er fhe flies, 
 ' Where Infamy in fdent 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 Hcav'n eftablifli'd, and by Man rever'd, 
 *' To that, if thy high Spirit fcorns to bend, 
 " Yet, O Emir a! hear me as thy Friend! 
 
 " Snatch
 
 [ 80 ] 
 
 " Snatch thy bright youth, and all its countlefs charms, 
 
 " From a dread ambufli of o'er-whelming harms, 
 
 " Whofe Demon-tribe, fome evils fliall 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, flatt'ring 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 DeteAion's livid fpots arife, 
 
 " Will ftudious fhun, affeding to defpife, 
 
 " Canft thou th' unbending knee's cold infult bear, 
 
 ** Their fmile of malice, and their vacant fhare ? 
 
 '' Shafts, which wrong'd Virtue only can fuftain, 
 
 *^ And rife fuperior to th' unjuft difdain." 
 
 ' Thus,
 
 [ s> ] 
 
 * Thus while he pour'd, to check this rafli career, 
 
 * The ftartling queflions on her wounded ear, 
 
 * Frowning fhe ftrove to'difengage her hand, 
 
 * And fly the juft reproach, the firm demand ; 
 
 * While Allien brows, and flafhes of difdain, 
 
 * Too plainly prov'd the awful challenge vain. 
 
 * Then ftriving, from a fofter caufe, to impart 
 
 * The virtuous wifh 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-unwillino; arms,' 
 
 '* Alas ! Em IRA, 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 Heav'n ! — O fmile my Child, and lure, 
 " Tn the maternal tranfports, foft, and pure, 
 
 M *« That
 
 [ 82 ] 
 
 " That lovely bofom ! — let thy opening bloom 
 " Charm my Emir a, e'er flie 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 blufh of fliame !" 
 
 * She figh'd, and clafp'd the Infant to her breaft, 
 
 * And milder looks the yielding Heart confefs'd j 
 ' Then, as th' innocent eyes to her's the while 
 
 * Are gently rais'd v^^ith an unconfcious fmile, 
 
 * Two cryftal drops, that Nature's influence fpeak, 
 
 * Steal from her lids, and wander down her cheek ; 
 
 ' Thofe ftranger tears, by that fweet thrill beguil'd, 
 ' Fall on the forehead of her beauteous Child. 
 
 * Pleas'd the maternal tribute to furvey, 
 
 * Eugenic 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 tranlient dawn 
 
 * Of virtuous feeling, inftant is withdrawn ; 
 
 * And
 
 [ 83 ] 
 
 * And thofe mild beams, that Beauty befl: adorn, 
 
 * Sink in the clouds of recoUedled 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, whofe 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 protedion of Emira's fame! 
 
 " V/hofc 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
 
 [ 84 ] 
 
 " For me, thy needlefs apprehenfion fpare ! 
 ** My peace, my fame, abjure Eugenio'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 {hades, and fighs, relief 
 " For the hard doom relentlefs Fate ordain'd, 
 ^^ i:\iy fplendid fortunes to EM IRA's chain'd 1 — 
 ** 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, 
 "^^ PafTion infane that Deftiny qontrourd!" 
 
 * And thus the Fair, that one fhort minute faw 
 ' Obey the facred force of Nature's law ; 
 
 * Now to its dilates 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' infipid fong j 
 
 * Where, round the Dancer, echoing plaudits found, 
 
 * At each indecent and diftorted bound, 
 
 < Each
 
 [ 85 ] 
 
 * Each odious geflure that ufurps the place 
 
 * Of eafy Elegance and genuine Grace ; 
 
 * To the pain'd hope, the fecret dread prcfage, 
 
 * 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 vefls the Libertine with boundlefs pow'r ; 
 
 * 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 laft fpark of her long faded fame 
 
 * For him, whofe gay attentions to fecure, 
 
 * Ralli Beauty fpreads the felf-enfnaring lure ; 
 
 ' That haughty Lord, licentious, falfe, and vain, 
 < Whofe groveling heart, nor Rank,. nor charms obtain; 
 
 * A fvvarthy
 
 [ 86 1 
 
 * A fwartliy Opera Dancer triumphs there, 
 
 * And foils th' attradions of the high-born Fair ; 
 
 * For her he wears the abjedt, laftmg chains ; 
 
 * To her, of Fafhion's drudgery complains, 
 
 ' When, in feign'd tranfports veiling cold diftafte, 
 
 * With dames of Quality his moments wafle ; 
 
 * Wade, to fupport his confequence, and prove 
 
 * His fvvay refifllefs in the realms of Love ; 
 
 * While by her venal arts himfelf enflav'd, 
 
 * Poor from her fquand'ring, by her humors brav'd, 
 
 * He hugs the Bonds, round which, to grace their pow'r, 
 
 * Nor Youth, nor Beauty twine one blooming flovv'r. 
 
 ' On him Emira her unvalued charms, 
 
 * Scarce afk'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 ! 
 
 ' Nor
 
 [ "7 ] 
 
 * Nor tamely had an injur'd Hufband borne 
 ' Of her connubial faith this lavifh fcorn, 
 
 * But that his own remember'd coldnefs brought 
 
 * Some palliation to his generous thought 
 
 * For guilty Beauty, in thefe fenfual times, 
 
 ' V/here foreign failiions lead to lorcign crimes ; 
 
 * Then, that her wealth, when Fortune's ftorm arofe, 
 
 * Saved his loved Parents from impending woes ! 
 ' 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 ftudiouily each day avoids the Dame, 
 
 * Who ftains his honor with her bleeding fame. 
 
 * By Duty urged, by Friendfhip warn'd in vain, 
 'As gay Em IRA drives with loofcn'd rein, 
 
 * Proud Diflipation's wearying labyrinths prove 
 
 * The bane ot Health, as the difgrace of Love. 
 
 * 'Midil the light Throngs, that croud the garJlli Mart, 
 
 * Confuming Fever hurls her fiery dart i 
 
 ' Deep
 
 [ 88 ] . 
 
 * Deep in Emira's breaft behold it ftand, 
 
 * And Life's warm current fhrink 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 Vidim of her guile. 
 
 * Haplefs Emira on her dying bed 
 Shrinks from the Phantom with convulfive 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 Simulates its pains. 
 Her Hufband's name, in tones of ftrange affright. 
 Eager fhe breathes, nor bears him from her fight. 
 In vain her calmnefs gently he intreats. 
 The generous pardon vainly he repeats ; 
 
 ' For
 
 [ .89 ] 
 
 * For, ftarting from her couch, ihe ftill demands 
 ' Pardon afrefh, and wildly wrings his hands, 
 
 * You too, Louisa, fhe invokes, to fign 
 
 * Her paflport bleft to Mercy's healing fhrine,' 
 ** O dear Ernesto," the fhrill accents cry, 
 " If you have pity, to Louisa fly j 
 
 " Sweet, injur'd Excellence ! would fhe impart 
 
 " Her pardon to this felf-accufing 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 fuff"'rings all her wrongs attone, 
 
 * And in Emira's pangs forget her own,' 
 
 Ernesto ceas'd — for Pity's throbs oppreft 
 With tender force his venerable breaft. 
 Thro' the remaining way our mutual fighs, 
 From awe-ftruck thought, in folemn filence rife* 
 
 N Shudd'riog
 
 I 90 ] 
 
 Shudd'ring we now draw near the houfe of Death, ' 
 And find yet ftays the intermitting breath. ■ ">' '' 
 What agitated dread my bofom tears, c*'^' '^ '^^^ ^ 
 
 When paufing we afcend the filent flairs I — ■• 
 As we approach the ilowly opening door !-i— 
 As my pain'd Senfes, horror-ehili'd, explore '-^{ ii 
 The dim Apartment, where the leffen'ki hght j^^v/B 
 Gives the pale Suff'rer to my featrful fight t ' "^'^ 
 The matchlefs grace of that confummate Frame'-' -'^^'i " 
 Withering beneath the Fever's fcorching fiame. ''^ '- ■" 
 Outftretch'd and wan, with lab'ring breath £he lies, 
 Clofing in palfied lids her quiv'ring €yes-.~-^->ii;t *->f4c ■ 
 EuGENio's hand lock'd in het clafping hands, 
 As hufh'd and mournful by her couch he ftands I-— 
 Horror, and Pity mingled traces flung, 
 Which o'er his Form, like wint'ry ihadows, hung ; 
 Yet, on my ent'rance in that dreary Room, 
 A gleam of Joy darts thro' their awful gloom ! 
 Oh ! what a moment ! — ^my E u ge n io's face ! — 
 Alas !— how faded its once glowing grace!. 
 Pad hours of woe on his pale cheek I read, 
 In eyes whofe beams, like waining ftars, recede ! 
 
 Faintly
 
 [ 9' ] 
 
 Faintly the found of that known voice I hear, 
 " Oh my Louisa !" fcarce it meets my ear, 
 Left the imperfedt dumber fhould be found 
 Chas'd by the check'd involuntary found. 
 But clear the fenfes of the Dying feem, 
 Like the expiring taper's flailiing beam. 
 Scarce audibly tho' breath'd, Louisa's name 
 Emir A hears, and her enfeebled Frame, 
 With fudden pow'rlefs effort, ftrives to raife ; 
 But, finking back, her eyes, in eager gaze, 
 Are fix'd on mine,— what anguilh in their beams I 
 O ! confcious Guilt, how dreadful thy extremes ! 
 The chill numb hands, whence deadly dews; had broke. 
 Snatched from her Lord's, when ftarting {he awoke. 
 Now, as they feem unable to extend. 
 Softly I take, as o'er her couch I bend ; 
 She turns away, opprefs'd by thought fevere, 
 And fteeps her pillow in the bittc tear. 
 
 Alas ! be calm ! be comforted ! I cried, 
 *' Do yoti too pardon?" — flirilly fhe replied, 
 
 N 2!i:ov/. Bending
 
 [ 92 ] 
 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 retrofpeft of vaniih'd days ! 
 " The fecret — feliifh joy — which hail'd the blow, 
 ** That laid Ernesto's profp'rous fortunes low; 
 " Sever'd thofe hands — whofe glowing hearts were join'd, 
 ** The facred union of the kindred Mind. ■ 
 " Heav'n reunites them ! — and the Wretch removes, 
 ♦* That impious rofe between their plighted Loves ; J 
 ** Who not content to blaft their fweet increafe, 
 *' And arm — Eugenio's Virtue — 'gainft his Peace, 
 
 *' Added" But now, from feeblenefs, or fliame, 
 
 A deadly faintnefs lickens thro' her Frame. 
 
 Reviving fhortly — " I would fain," fhe cries, 
 
 *' E'er everlafting darknefs clofe thefe eyes, 
 
 " Intreat uf that kind Spirit — fweet, and mild, 
 
 " Its future — gen'rous goodnefs — to my Child. 
 
 *' Love her, Louisa — love her — I implore, 
 
 '* When loft Emir a-— wounds thy peace no more ! 
 
 " Oh !
 
 [ 93 ] 
 <*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 injur'd there ! 
 ** Congenial Mercy — fhe may hope to prove, 
 <' From the offended Pow'rs — of Truth— and Love !" 
 
 While yet thefe interrupted accents hung. 
 Faint on the rigid lip, and falt'ring tongue. 
 The ftiff'ning fpafm, the fuifocating breath, 
 Gave dread prefage of near approaching Death. — 
 Now roll the eyes in fierce and reftlefs gaze ! 
 Now on their wildnefs fteals the ghaftly glaze ! 
 
 Till
 
 [ 94 1 
 Till o'er her Form the fliadowy horrors fpread 
 The dim fuffuiion that involves, the DEAD. 
 
 Thus Wealth, and Rank, and.aU their gorgeous Train, 
 The Proud that madden, and enfnare tke Vain j 
 Youth's frolic grace, and Beayty's radiant bloom. 
 Sink, in the dreary filence of the tomb j 
 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 Shading hand 
 Touch'd into charms more exquiHtely bland ! 
 Or paint Eugenio's tranfports as they rife, 
 More fvvcet for gen'rous Pity's mingled iighsivaiiv* 
 Sweet above all, from the exulting pride 
 Of felf-approving Virtue, ftrongly tried, 
 r^pplauding CONSCIENCE, yes! to thee 'tis giv'n^ 
 ^To infpire a Joy, that antedates our Heav'n ! 
 
 Thus
 
 [ 95 ] 
 
 Thus, on Moriah's confecrated height, 
 Flow'd the obedient Patriarch's fond delight. 
 When o'er the filial breaft, his faith to feal, 
 On high had gleamd the facrificing Steel j 
 Thus flow'd, when at the Voice, divinely mild. 
 His raptur'd hands unbound his only Child ! 
 
 O come, my E m m a ! — yet thou ne'er haft feen 
 Embodied Virtue in Eugenio's Mein j 
 Grace, grandeur, truth, and tendernefs combin'd, 
 The liberal effluence of the polifh'd Mind ! 
 And for more gen'rous pleafures than we prove, 
 The blifs furveying of the Friends we love, 
 Sure we muft wait, till Angels fhall impart 
 Their own perfedion to th' expanded Heart ! 
 
 - Hafte then to {have our bleflings, as they glow 
 
 Thro' the receding fhades of heavieft woe ! 
 
 As Spring's fair Morn, with calm, and dewy light, 
 
 Breaks thro' the weary, long, and flormy Night, 
 
 So now, as thro' the Vale of Life we ftray. 
 
 The STAR of JOY relumes, and leads us on our way I 
 
 FINIS, 
 
 J^/ yi ^^ - u^'^t^^'^''^^^
 
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