"But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, "And well my life shall pay; "And there forlorn despairing hid, "Forbid it, Heaven!" the hermit cry'd, "Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see "Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, "Restor❜d to love and thee. "Thus let me hold thee to my heart, "And ev'ry care resign : "And shall we never, never part, "My life——my all that's mine? "No, never from this hour to part, "We'll live and love so true; "The sigh that rends thy constant heart "Shall break thy Edwin's too." EUPOLIS' HYMN TO THE CREATOR. FROM THE GREEK. WESTLEY. AUTHOR of being, Source of light, Thy stedfast being still the same. Thee, when morning greets the skies Sinks in purple waves away; Thee will I sing, O parent Jove, Yonder azure vault on high, Yonder blue, low, liquid sky, Earth on its firm basis plac'd, Thou shak'st all nature with thy nod, Sea, earth, and air, confess thee GOD! Both earth and heaven, both firm and main. Scarce can our daring thought arise The bliss, the joy, the rapture there. (For thee their silver harps are strung) Ever beauteous, ever young. Angelic forms their voices raise, And thro' heaven's arch resound thy praise. The feather'd souls that swim the air, And bathe in liquid ether there, |