’Twas so for me that Edwin did,
And so for him will I.”
“Forbid it, Heaven!” the Hermit cried,
And clasped her to his breast:
The wandering fair one turned to chide;—
’Twas Edwin’s self that press’d.
“Turn Angelina, ever dear,
My charmer, turn to see
Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,
Restor’d to love and thee.