And I will still love on, and ftill be happy;
But when thou tell'ft me to avoid that form,
Death has no terrors! hell no pangs like mine':
Ah, whence thofe cruel tears!
For thee they fall-anguish must have its vent,
Or the heart's blood would gush.
To give one moment's mifery to thee,
That moment I have liv'd too long - By Heaven!
The frantic thought of adding woe to her,
Drives each ungenerous felfish forrow hence,
And fhews me what a fhallow foul I have:
Oh! cease to weep; in a far worthier cause
Thy forrows might be shed.
When virtue, fuch as thine, is tortur'd thus;
When love, the pureft, is fo ill bestow'd,
And nobleft talents are in love fo loft,
The sympathizing heart may furely melt;
And melting thus, may pour its wishes forth:
Fly then far hence-feek some more generous
And fhou'd she ask the ftory of thy life,
Tell her, that Charlotte did abuse thy love:
Tell her, the only recompence she shew'd
For all thy fufferings was-to leave thee thus-
My heart no longer can fupport its pangs!
If you have mercy, Heaven, O fhew it now!
For never wretch did need your mercy more.
But hold-How fhall my troubled mind refolve
If I remain ?-'Tis but to matr her peace-
'Tis but to check the generous Albert's blifs:
If I depart, the pain is all my own!
Where is that virtue then? That boasted honour,
That ever was my pride? O fhame! 'tis fled,
And Werter's but the fhadow of himfelf!
Yet will I fhew fome firmnefs ftill remains,
And shake these demons from the dens they haunt!
Yes, I will leave her-e'en now I'll feek my friend,
Take one short farewel and depart to-night!
So may I live to blefs that happy hour,
When honour nobly triumph'd over love!
SCENE II,-Garden, by Moonlight.
Enough is known; and I with pity fee
A youth the nobleft, ftruggling to fubdue
A generous paffion; whilft I in peace poffefs
The valued treasure he fo much admires-
As the difturber of another's peace,
Honour compels me to attempt relief.
At length the wifh'd for moment is arriv'd!
At length I clafp thee in a fond embrace!
Oh, 'tis an age fince last we met!
The pangs of absence have indeed been great;
Yes, most severe-But I'll no more complain;
Propitious heaven has granted all I afk'd;
Has yielded thee, the fummit of my hopes!
And we shall part no more.
CHARLOTTE.
May heaven fo grant !
Why thofe doubtful words?-and why that penfive look?
Oh! had I thought of meeting thee in grief!
The pangs of abfence never had been borne-
'Twas the fond prospect of our future bliss,
That only cheer'd my pains!
When the great fecret in my breast is known,
You will not wonder at my prefent grief-
Perhaps you'll think I merit all I feel;
And wound me with reproach!
I know that fecret-I approve its cause:
It adds new honour to the best of hearts;
And makes me worship, where before I lov'd—
Oh, if that only interrupts thy peace,
Thank heaven! for Albert can difpel thy grief!
Heavens! is it poffible ?-Yes, 'tis Albert;
The fame unalter'd Albert I esteem!
And could'ft thou think that Albert was fo base,
As not to fympathife in Charlotte's woes ?-
I fcorn fufpicion, and its jealous train ;
'Tis only nourish'd where pollution lives.
For ever, in the pure unfpotted breast,
The poisoning canker ftarves.-But, O my Charlotte!
Long have I known thy honour, love, and truth; Have seen these jewels ftand fuch trying tefts, That when I doubt them-may I ceafe to live!
Who could be false, when truth is thus esteem'd?
Albert, there needed not my truth alone,
To make thy peace fecure-for had I wish'd
To prove unfaithful-I had wifh'd in vain.
Werter had fcorn'd me for a thought fo mean;
For, oh his honour only ftoops to thine.
Then as his honour has preferv'd my peace,
Mine fhall inftruct me to restore him his-
Yes, I will fhew this all-excelling youth,
That Albert never was out-done by him.
I'll feek his friendship, and his forrows share
And, if my Charlotte fhall approve the thought,
Entreat him to remain and share our blifs.
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