The bending Hermit here a prayer begun,

Lord! as in heaven, on earth thy will be done.”Then, gladly turning, sought his ancient place, And pass'd a life of piety and peace.

No. XXXVIII.

EDWIN OF THE GREEN.

PARNELL.

In Britain's isle, and Arthur's days,

When midnight faeries daunced the maze,

Lived Edwin of the Green;

Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,

Endow'd with courage, sense, and truth, Though badly shaped he'd been.

His mountain back mote well be said

To measure heighth against his head,

And lift itself above:

Yet spite of all that nature did

To make his uncouth form forbid,

This creature dared to love.

He felt the charms of Edith's eyes,
Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,

Could ladies look within;

But one Sir Topaz dress'd with art,
And, if a shape could win a heart,
He had a shape to win.

Edwin (if right I read my song,)
With slighted passion paced along
All in the moony light:

'Twas near an old enchaunted court,
Where sportive faeries made resort,
To revel out the night.

His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, 'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was lost That reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary steps he quits the shades, Resolved, the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown.

But scant he lays him on the floor,
When hollow winds remove the door,

And trembling rocks the ground:
And (well I ween, to count aright,)
At once an hundred tapers light

On all the walls around.

Now sounding tongues assail his ear,
Now sounding feet approachen near,
And now the sounds increase;
And, from the corner where he lay,
He sees a train profusely gay

Come prankling o'er the place.

But (trust me, Gentles!) never yet
Was dight a masking half so neat,
Or half so rich before;

The country lent the sweet perfumes,
The sea the pearl, the sky the plumes,
The town its silken store.

Now, whilst he gazed, a gallant dress'd
In flaunting robes above the rest,

With awful accent cried:

"What mortal of a wretched mind, "Whose sighs infect the balmy wind, "Has here presumed to hide ?"

At this the swain, whose vent'rous soul
No fears of magic art control,

Advanced in open sight:

"Nor have I cause of dread," he said,

"Who view (by no presumption led,)

"Your revels of the night.

"'Twas grief, for scorn of faithful love, "Which made my steps unweeting rove "Amid the nightly dew."—

"Tis well," the gallant cries again, "We faeries never injure men "Who dare to tell us true.

"Exalt thy love-dejected heart,
"Be mine the task, or ere we part,
"To make thee grief resign;'

"Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce;
"Whilst I with Mab, my partner, daunce,

"Be Little Mable thine.".

He spoke, and all a sudden there
Light music floats in wanton air;

The Monarch leads the Queen:
The rest their faerie partners found,
And Mable trimly tript the ground
With Edwin of the Green.

The dauncing past, the board was laid,
And siker such a feast was made

As heart and lip desire;

Withouten hands the dishes fly,

The glasses with a wish come nigh,

And with a wish retire..