Yet love could pierce the lone recess,
For there he likes to dwell;
To leave the noisy crowd, and bless
With happiness the cell.
To wing his sure resistless dart,
Where all its force is known;
And rule the undivided heart
Despotic, and alone.
Young Edwin charm'd her gentle breast,
Tho' scanty all his store;
No hoarded treasures he possest,
Yet he could boast of more.
For he could boast the lib'ral heart;
And honour, sense, and truth,
Unwarp'd by vanity or art,
Adorn'd the gen'rous youth.
The maxims of a servile age,
The mean, the selfish care,
The sordid views, that now engage
The mercenary pair;
Whom riches can unite, or part,
To them were still unknown;
For then the sympathetic heart
Was join'd by love alone.
They little knew, that wealth had power
To make the constant rove;
They little knew the weighty dower
Could add one bliss to love.
Her virtues every charm improv'd,
Or made those charms more dear;
For surely virtue to be lov'd
Has only to appear.
Domestic bliss, unvex'd by strife,
Beguil'd the circling hours;
She, who on every path of life
Can shed perennial flowers.
Eltruda, o'er the distant mead,
Would haste, at closing day,
And to the bleating mother lead
The lamb, that chanc'd to stray.