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Awhile sweet hope her bosom cheers,
Henry may bless her future years;
But ah! what terrors wait the Fair,
She hears, half frantic with despair,
Impatient griefs her bosom tear,
Victim of woe and wild despair,
“The treasur’d sorrow, now so dear,
“Its keenest pangs thy heart revere,
She stops.-A voice in accents mild,
Salutes her, “Cease, sad sorrow's child,
“Heav'n, for our good, afflictions dire
“Thither then bid thy thoughts aspire,
And now the blessed Book he brought,
How Heav'n is ne'er unmov’d when sought,
Affliction’s path himself had trod,
Till his heart fasten’d on his God,
14 She heard. The troublous errors fled, Chas'd by Truth’s brightening beams they flew 1 And soon she bless'd the power which led The sage that did her steps pursue. 15 His words—his looks—his precepts mild, His patient hope—his faith confest,
The mourner of her griefs beguil'd,
I The night was dark, and awful was the scene, The wind blew high and loud the billows roar'd, The snow came drifting, and the frost how keen, The heath, alas! no shelter could afford.
2 'Twas then young Edgar bent his trackless way Ella to meet, by whom he was belov’d,
Whose charms held o'er his heart despotic sway, They'd own'd their passions, and their sires approv’d. 3 The proudest gifts, great Nature e'er bestow'd On mortals, sure this virtuous pair possest, With wealth too, were they bounteously endow’d, And nought they lack'd to make each other blest.
4 But to the will of all-disposing Heaven Ere 'tis accomplish'd human eyes are blind;
For down a precipice where snow was driven He fell, and to his God his soul resign'd.
- 5 Some days elaps'd, when Ella, in despair, Found the drear spot that Edgar's corse contain'd, In wild distraction then she tore her hair, And in most impious terms high Heaven arraign'd. 6 Reason at length recall'd this lovelornmaid, Who piously for pardon bent her knee; She woo'd her dear religion's balmy aid And never more repin’d at God's decree.
I The breeze was fresh, the ship in stays, Each breaker hush'd, the shore a haze, When Jack, no more on duty call’d, His true-love's tokens overhaul’d :
The broken gold, the braided hair,
2 The storm—that like a shapeless wreck, Had strew’d with rigging all the deck,
That tars for sharks had given a feast,
When Jack, as with his messmates dear