EDWIN AND EMMA. David Mallet Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T124631 1073 K099398.000 Mendez, Moses. A collection of the most esteemed pieces of poetry: that have appeared for several years. With variety of originals, by the late Moses Mendez, Esq; and other contributors to Dodsley's collection. To which this is intended as a supplement. London printed for Richardson and Urquhart 1767 pp. 92-96. [8],320p. ; 8⁰.

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EDWIN AND EMMA . BY THE SAME . Mark it , CESARIO , it is true and plain . The spinsters and the knitters in the sun , And the free maids that weave their thread with bones , Do use to chant it . It is silly Sooth , And dallies with the innocence of love , Like the old age . SHAKES . TWELFTH NIGHT . I. FAR in the windings of a vale , Fast by a sheltering wood , The safe retreat of health and peace , An humble cottage stood . II . There beauteous EMMA flourish'd fair , Beneath a mother's eye ; Whose only wish on earth was now To see her blest , and die . III . The softest blush that Nature spreads Gave colour to her cheek : Such orient colour smiles thro' heaven , When vernal mornings break . IV . Nor let the pride of great ones scorn This charmer of the plains : That sun , who bids their diamond blaze , To paint our lilly deigns . V. Long had she fill'd each youth with love , Each maiden with despair ; And tho' by all a wonder own'd , Yet knew not she was fair . VI . Till EDWIN came , the pride of swains , A soul devoid of art ; And from whose eye , serenely mild , Shone forth the feeling heart , VII . A mutual flame was quickly caught : Was quickly too reveal'd : For neither bosom lodg'd a wish , That virtue keeps conceal'd . VIII . What happy hours of home-felt bliss Did love on both bestow ! But bliss too mighty long to last , Where fortune proves a foe . IX . His sister , who , like ENVY form'd , Like her in mischief joy'd , To work them harm , with wicked skill , Each darker art employ'd . X. The father too , a sordid man , Who love nor pity knew , Was all-unfeeling as the clod , From whence his riches grew . XI . Long had he seen their secret flame , And seen it long unmov'd : Then with a father's frown at last Had sternly disapprov'd . XII . In EDWIN's gentle heart , a war Of differing passions strove : His heart , that durst not disobey , Yet could not cease to love . XIII . Deny'd her sight , he oft behind The spreading hawthorn crept , To snatch a glance , to mark the spot Where EMMA walk'd and wept . XIV . Oft too on STANEMORE's wintry waste , Beneath the moonlight-shade , In sighs to pour his soften'd soul , The midnight-mourner stray'd . XV. His cheek , where health with beauty glow'd , A deadly pale o'ercast : So fades the fresh rose in its prime , Before the northern blast . XVI . The parents now , with late remorse , Hung o'er his dying bed ; And weary'd heaven with fruitless vows , And fruitless sorrow shed . XVII . 'Tis past ! he cry'd — but if your souls Sweet mercy yet can move , Let these dim eyes once more behold , What they must ever love ! XVIII . She came ; his cold hand softly touch'd , And bath'd with many a tear : Fast-falling o'er the primrose pale , So morning dews appear . XIX . But oh ! his sister's jealous care , A cruel sister she ! Forbade what EMMA came to say ; " My EDWIN live for me . " XX . Now homeward as she hopeless wept The church-yard path along , The blast blew cold , the dark owl scream'd Her lover's funeral song . XXI . Amid the falling gloom of night , Her startling fancy found In every bush his hovering shade , His groan in every sound . XXII . Alone , appall'd , thus had she pass'd The visionary vale — When lo ! the death-bell smote her ear , Sad-sounding in the gale ! XXIII . Just then she reach'd , with trembling step , Her aged mother's door — He's gone ! she cry'd ; and I shall see That angel-face no more ! XXIV . I feel , I feel this breaking heart Beat high against my side — From her white arm down sunk her head ; She shivering sigh'd , and died .