LOVE'S VICTIMS: THE HERMIT's STORY, CANTO I

"Leave, Hermit, leave these wilds forlorn; Cast off this garb of woe; With earliest gleam of opening morn Thy guests prepare to go:

With earliest gleam of opening morn, We'll spread the parting sail, Far hence o'er rolling surges born, Our native land to hail.

For, though in sore distress we came, To beg relief from thee, Yet not unknown to goodly fame, We plough the dang'rous sea;

Beneath yon cliff's impending side, Within a secret bay, Our vessel proudly stems the tide, Our streamers lightly play:

Then, Hermit kind, with us return; For this thy shelt'ring care, Thy former dwelling let us learn, We'll place thee safely there.

"THIS lonely strand I'll ne'er forsake, Ne'er cast these weeds away; My thanks for offer'd service take, But leave me here to stay!

Here, till in death my limbs are cold, A sacred vow I'll keep, Full oft, o'er yonder swelling mould, To pray, to fast, and weep.

But, though my vow forbid return, My native land to hail, Would you my former dwelling learn, I'll not refuse the tale:

A tale of grief and blushing shame My lips must then disclose, Yet so shall mem'ry keep my name, And pity mourn my woes.

A sire of noble birth I own, On Rosay's fertile plain: No care his tranquil life had known, Unvex'd by grief or pain;

Till Heav'n, alas! my sins ordain'd To wake his virtuous rage, And shame, unfelt before, distain'd The silver'd cheek of age.

With him in social union bound Earl Hubert long had been; Their youth the palm of friendship crown'd, And age beheld it green.

"Now straight prepare your horsemen all," Said the Earl, "to go with me; "I have a feast in bow'r and hall, "Where you must shortly be."

"Set forth, set forth," my sire replied, "Set forth without delay; "However fleetly you shall ride, "We'll pass you on the way.

With me I'll bring my son along, "To grace your bow'r and hall, "And if he fail in dance or song, "On me the blame shall fall."

The minstrels play'd; the hall was bright, The bow'r was fair to see; And there came many a noble knight, And maid of high degree.

But 'midst those maidens all so fair, More fair than all was one; In peerless boast of beauty rare The gentle Emma shone.

Of humble birth, she early mourn'd A parent's shorten'd date; But heav'n to joy her grief had turn'd, And giv'n a kinder fate:

The partner of Earl Hubert's breast The helpless babe survey'd, And pity soft in tears confest, Bestow'd its bounteous aid.

In rip'ning charms the nursling grew, And youth its lustre shed; Less fair the rose's blushing hue, When first its leaves are spread:

Her eyes were as the diamond bright, But shone with temper'd ray, Like northern meteors, that by night O'er heav'n's pale azure play.

Forgive these tears, that still must flow, Whene'er the tale is told; For learn, the beauteous maid lies low, Beneath yon swelling mould.