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LOVE's VICTIMS: THE HERMIT's STORY. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE PRIZE, NO SONG NO SUPPER, &c.

.....EVEN-HANDED JUSTICE RETURNS THE POISON'D CHALICE.....TO OUR OWN LIPS.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND.

1793. [Entered at Stationers Hall.]

[]

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM PITT, CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, &c. &c. &c. THIS POEM IS, BY HIS PERMISSION, DEDICATED, BY HIS MOST OBEDIENT, AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT,

PRINCE HOARE.

LOVE'S VICTIMS: THE HERMIT's STORY.

[]

PART THE FIRST.

CANTO I.

"LEAVE, Hermit, leave theſe wilds forlorn;
Caſt off this garb of woe;
With earlieſt gleam of opening morn
Thy gueſts prepare to go:
With earlieſt gleam of opening morn,
We'll ſpread the parting ſail,
Far hence o'er rolling ſurges born,
Our native land to hail.
[2]
For, though in ſore diſtreſs we came,
To beg relief from thee,
Yet not unknown to goodly fame,
We plough the dang'rous ſea;
Beneath yon cliff's impending ſide,
Within a ſecret bay,
Our veſſel proudly ſtems the tide,
Our ſtreamers lightly play:
Then, Hermit kind, with us return;
For this thy ſhelt'ring care,
Thy former dwelling let us learn,
We'll place thee ſafely there.
"THIS lonely ſtrand I'll ne'er forſake,
Ne'er caſt theſe weeds away;
My thanks for offer'd ſervice take,
But leave me here to ſtay!
[3]
Here, till in death my limbs are cold,
A ſacred vow I'll keep,
Full oft, o'er yonder ſwelling mould,
To pray, to faſt, and weep.
But, though my vow forbid return,
My native land to hail,
Would you my former dwelling learn,
I'll not refuſe the tale:
A tale of grief and bluſhing ſhame
My lips muſt then diſcloſe,
Yet ſo ſhall mem'ry keep my name,
And pity mourn my woes.
A ſire of noble birth I own,
On Roſay's fertile plain:
No care his tranquil life had known,
Unvex'd by grief or pain;
[4]
Till Heav'n, alas! my ſins ordain'd
To wake his virtuous rage,
And ſhame, unfelt before, diſtain'd
The ſilver'd cheek of age.
With him in ſocial union bound
Earl Hubert long had been;
Their youth the palm of friendſhip crown'd,
And age beheld it green.
"Now ſtraight prepare your horſemen all,"
Said the Earl, "to go with me;
"I have a feaſt in bow'r and hall,
"Where you muſt ſhortly be."
"Set forth, ſet forth," my ſire replied,
"Set forth without delay;
"However fleetly you ſhall ride,
"We'll paſs you on the way.
[5]
With me I'll bring my ſon along,
"To grace your bow'r and hall,
"And if he fail in dance or ſong,
"On me the blame ſhall fall."
The minſtrels play'd; the hall was bright,
The bow'r was fair to ſee;
And there came many a noble knight,
And maid of high degree.
But 'midſt thoſe maidens all ſo fair,
More fair than all was one;
In peerleſs boaſt of beauty rare
The gentle Emma ſhone.
Of humble birth, ſhe early mourn'd
A parent's ſhorten'd date;
But heav'n to joy her grief had turn'd,
And giv'n a kinder fate:
[6]
The partner of Earl Hubert's breaſt
The helpleſs babe ſurvey'd,
And pity ſoft in tears confeſt,
Beſtow'd its bounteous aid.
In rip'ning charms the nurſling grew,
And youth its luſtre ſhed;
Leſs fair the roſe's bluſhing hue,
When firſt its leaves are ſpread:
Her eyes were as the diamond bright,
But ſhone with temper'd ray,
Like northern meteors, that by night
O'er heav'n's pale azure play.
Forgive theſe tears, that ſtill muſt flow, *
Whene'er the tale is told;
For learn, the beauteous maid lies low,
Beneath yon ſwelling mould.

CANTO II.

[7]
WHEN youth beats high in ev'ry vein,
And paſſion fires the mind,
What can the wand'ring thought reſtrain,
The lawleſs ſpirit bind?
Too ſtrong by reaſon to be ſway'd,
Deſire my torment grew,
For fair as Dian was the maid,
But chaſte as Dian too.
How ſhall your virtuous ears endure,
My guilty tongue repeat,
What arts I us'd, her love to lure,
And watchful honor cheat!
[8]
Too well I ſtrove; the maiden lov'd;
Her devious ſteps I led;
To duty loſt, we ſecret rov'd,
And baniſh'd virtue fled.
Ill-omen'd deed! the hope how vain,
Each ſocial tie foregone,
That conſtancy ſhould yet remain,
And faith, intent on one!
Who firſt pollutes the tender mind,
And leads from truth aſtray,
Ne'er let him hope again to find
The gem he caſts away.
The fatal change, thus ſubtly wrought,
I juſtly learnt to rue;
Pleas'd with the freedom I had taught,
To other loves ſhe flew:
[9]
Five lonely months my anxious fears
Her flight in vain explor'd;
And oft my fondly-falling tears
Her fancied death deplor'd.
Oh, Vanity, that Man beguiles,
Who boaſts the ſtronger mind!
In Woman's charms and native wiles,
Defeat ſtill doom'd to find!
If haply here ſome liſt'ning gueſt
Have known like pains to prove,
Let his conſenting heart atteſt
How ſtoops our ſex to Love.
Before my gate, in winter's cold,
A trembling mourner ſtood;
A tale of piteous want ſhe told,
And, plaintive, begg'd for food:
[10]
Beneath that garb of friendleſs woe
My Emma ſtood confeſt;
I claſp'd, ere words had pow'r to flow,
The wand'rer to my breaſt:
I ſtrove to chide, but faintly blam'd;
Then met her ardent kiſs;
Deſire again my ſoul inflam'd,
And hope renew'd my bliſs.
Fond, pleaſing dream! too quickly o'er!
The falſe one fled again:
Amaz'd I griev'd, but vow'd no more
To prize a heart ſo vain.
Our angry vows Love turns to jeſt;
While yet her loſs I mourn'd,
Again repentance touch'd her breaſt,
Again the fair return'd:
[11]
And, while I view'd thoſe fatal charms,
Upon my neck ſhe hung;
To earth I ſhook her from my arms,
Around my knees ſhe clung.
"Forgive the wretch," ſhe ſuppliant cried,
"The wretch thy flatt'ries made! *
"By Pleaſure's voice, Ah, faithleſs guide!
"Too eaſily betray'd!"
"With thee, who taught'ſt me firſt to ſin,
"Let me my ſins atone!
"This let repentant anguiſh win,
"To live with thee alone!"
Thus o'er a boſom fondly ſoft
She triumph'd unreſtrain'd;
Oft from my arms ſhe fled, and oft
Thoſe ſhelt'ring arms regain'd.
[12]
So flitting on the ſummer's breeze,
Delighted far to roam,
The ſwallow, born o'er ſmiling ſeas,
Awhile forgets her home:
But ſcar'd at ſight of wintry gloom,
When chilling blaſts ariſe,
With trembling wing and ruffled plume,
Returns to friendlier ſkies.
At length the deſtin'd hour was near,
That roſe to fix our fate;
For ſtill on folly's wild career
Chaſtiſing ſorrows wait.
Once when, by lengthen'd abſence tried,
Love pour'd the weary tear,
And hope her wonted aid denied
My fruitleſs ſearch to cheer,
[13]
It chanc'd, at morn I bent my way
From Harfleur's lonely tow'rs,
To where its tides in Havre's bay
The weſtern ocean pours.
There as I wander'd, loſt in thought,
Faint notes of female cry
My ear with frequent wonder caught,
And drew my curious eye.
Far off, advancing where I ſtood,
A convict group I ſpied;
Behind, the fiends of pow'r purſued,
Each ling'ring ſtep to chide:
By force compell'd, the guilty band
Reluctant ſought the ſhore,
Whence doom'd to leave a forfeit land,
And to return no more.
[14]
Pitying, I mark'd their hopeleſs lot,
And heard their clanking chains;
Their errors in their griefs forgot,
Their vices in their pains;
Nor thought, while flow'd the ready tear
For ſorrows not my own,
My doom to ſhare thoſe griefs how near,
And mingle groan with groan!
As when dire phantoms of the night
Sleep's ſoft infoldment break,
Up leaps the wretch in wild affright,
And doubts if yet he wake;
So rous'd, at once, with ſtartling dread,
Amid the guilty train
I ſaw my Emma captive led,
And partner of their pain.
[15]
The diſtant ſight perhaps deceiv'd,
With eager ſtep I flew—
Too ſoon I came—nor yet believ'd
The horrid viſion true.
To heav'n her eyes intent were caſt,
And pour'd a chryſtal flood;
The flinty pavement, as ſhe paſs'd,
Was mark'd with ſtreaks of blood.
I ſtood diſtracted and appall'd;
Then faintly breath'd her name;
Each wand'ring ſenſe my voice recall'd,
And ſhook her feeble frame:
Her feeble frame no more ſuſtains;
Her eyes flaſh wildly round;
She ſhrieks—and, ſinking on her chains,
Falls ſenſeleſs to the ground.

CANTO III.

[16]
NEED I relate what cares I us'd,
'Till ſluggard life return'd,
Or number all my pray'rs refus'd,
Or tell her ranſom ſpurn'd?
Whether by daring guilt betray'd,
Or fate ſevere oppreſt,
I ſhunn'd to aſk, of truth afraid—
Her anguiſh fill'd my breaſt;
Doom'd to her cheerful native land
To bid a long adieu,
And on a rude unpitying ſtrand
Declining life purſue:
[17]
"Unhappy fair, whoſe fatal pow'r.
"Enſlaves my conſtant thought,
"Behold in this diſaſtrous hour
"The ruin thou haſt wrought!
"Theſe tears, this anguiſh is thine own,
"That rends thy Albert's breaſt;
"But tears with thee are pleaſing grown,
"And anguiſh lulls to reſt.
"Together on th' appointed plain
"We'll count the painful years,
"Together drag the galling chain,
"And mingle bitter tears."
"Forbear, forbear!" the ſuff'rer cried,
And rais'd her languid head,
"Thy hate, thy vengeance I'll abide—
"Thy conſtancy I dread.
[18]
"Let mercy griev'd at length forſake
"A wretch to ſorrow born;
"Leave that obdurate heart to break,
"Which could deſerve thy ſcorn!"
The tender pray'r I heard unmov'd,
Or heard with ſoften'd heart;
From her, whom ſtill alone I lov'd,
Reſolv'd no more to part.
The ſwelling ſails forbad delay;
We left our native ſhore;
O'er the blue waves the ſtreamers play,
And land is ſeen no more.
Ah! ſhade belov'd! what wond'rous grief
Did then thy boſom know,
While the fraught heart denied relief,
And tears forbore to flow!
[19]
Pale, drooping o'er the billow's foam,
I ſee thy form recline;
Thine eyes o'er ocean wildly roam,
Or deeply fix in mine!
That ſpeechleſs woe can language paint,
Or tell the thrilling look,
When ſighs at length, and accents faint
The fearful ſilence broke?
"For thee—for thee—much injur'd youth,
"'Midſt all my ſins abhorr'd
"(So witneſs for me, heavenly truth!)
"My boſom's only Lord,
"For thee alone, theſe pangs, theſe ſights—
"My chains no longer wound—"
She ſaid, when ſobs convulſive riſe,
And choke th' imperfect ſound.
[20]
"Well pleas'd in death theſe eyes ſhould cloſe,
"So thou might'ſt feel," I cried,
"No greater pain than Albert knows,
"With Emma by his ſide.
"Secure we brave the changing ſky,
"By hope forbid to weep;
"Love bears his lighted torch on high,
"And guides us o'er the deep:
"And ſee the deſtin'd land appear!
That land our faith ſhall prove;
"Alike ſhall either hemiſphere
"Propitious ſmile on love."

PART THE SECOND.

[21]

CANTO I.

PAST was each gay, each joyous hour;
No more we feſtive play'd
In Pleaſure's brightly-ſparkling bow'r,
Or Wealth's luxurious ſhade!
But who on Truth's unerring beam
Shall earthyy bleſſings weigh,
Will learn how oft the world's eſteem
On wealth is thrown away.
The ſource of human bliſs, or woe,
Where ſhall enquiry find?
Alas! the wretched only know—
'Tis lodg'd within the mind.
[22]
'Midſt toils ſevere, and labor rude,
Far from our native ſhore,
In long and hopeleſs ſervitude
The pains of life we bore.
Yet Emma here, by ſorrow taught,
Preſerv'd love's conſtant flame;
And Emma's love was all I ſought,
"Twas eaſe, 'twas wealth, 'twas fame!
Haply one Maſter's ſtern command
Our equal lot receiv'd;
And fond to aid, my ſtronger hand
Her fainting toil reliev'd.
Cuſtom unchang'd contentment gave;
We view'd our dangers paſt;
And, 'ſcap'd from Fortune's troubled wave,
Here found repoſe at laſt.
[23]
Our chaſten'd thoughts the wiſh inſpire
Religion's bonds to prove,
And turn the wand'rings of deſire
To pure, connubial love.
What though no white-rob'd prieſt was near,
Our hands no altar join'd,
Yet angels ſtoop'd our vows to hear,
And Heav'n the record ſign'd.
Fain would I pauſe, and o'er the reſt
Of my diſtreſsful tale,
Could mem'ry die within my breaſt,
For ever caſt a veil:
But conſcious duty prompts me here
My ſorrows to renew;
My trembling lips, with words of fear,
Their painful taſk purſue.
[24]
To him, whoſe pow'r our toils confeſt,
On Gallia's fairer ſhore
One only ſon, in hour unbleſt,
A long-loſt conſort bore.
The father watch'd the pleaſing care
Through childhood's tender ſtage,
Of all his treaſur'd wealth the heir,
And comfort of his age.
Now bold in manhood, fierce and ſtrong,
In wealth and pow'r elate,
Proudly he view'd the ſubject throng,
And held tyrannic ſtate.
By love ſubdued, his ardent eye
He fix'd on Emma's charms,
And doom'd, in heedleſs luxury,
The victim to his arms.
[25]
His ſubtle arts aſſail'd her truth;
Thoſe arts my Emma ſpurn'd;
Stung by her ſcorn, the haughty youth
In wild reſentment burn'd.
The guilt his lawleſs ſoul deſir'd,
Inſulting force eſſay'd:
I ſaw, with rage indignant fir'd,
And ruſh'd to Emma's aid.
Periſh, preſumptuous ſlave! he cried,
And aim'd a deadly wound;
My boſom own'd its injur'd pride—
I fell'd him to the ground.
The hunter meets no ſwifter blow,
Who vent'rous points the chace,
Where lurks the tiger low'ring low,
And guards his infant race.
[26]
Awhile the ſpirit's quiv'ring flame
Upon life's confines play'd;
The fled, and veil'd the wretch's ſhame
In death's eternal ſhade.
Horrid the deed! but greater dread
Our future hours diſplay;
Stern vengeance, hov'ring o'er my head,
Muſt mark its helpleſs prey.
Alternate ill alone remain'd;
To ſtay—'twas death; to fly—
From every good that life contain'd!
'Twas with more pain to die.
What voice my ling'ring doubts reprov'd,
And bade for flight prepare?
"Thy Emma, ah! too dearly lov'd,
"Thy dang'rous flight ſhall ſhare:
[27]
"With thee I'll range the deſert wide,
"While life ſhall ſtrength ſupply;
"Content to ſuffer at thy ſide,
"Bleſt in thy arms to die."
"Ceaſe, Emma, ceaſe! too fondly true!
"Thou tempt'ſt a certain doom;
Deſpair muſt ſtill our flight purſue,
"And Horror's endleſs gloom.
"Where ſhould, alas! our footſteps ſtray?
"We wander hence in vain;
"Famine, or ruthleſs beaſts of prey
"Await us on the plain."
The ardor of that dauntleſs breaſt
Nor words, nor pray'rs allay;
With eager look, my hand ſhe preſt,
And daring, led the way.

CANTO II.

[28]
O'ER wilds, unmark'd by human tread,
We took our vent'rous flight;
Yet was not Hope's laſt ember dead,
Though pal'd its fainting light.
If aught, amid thoſe deſert plains,
By Nature's hand beſtow'd,
Might temper thirſt's unceaſing pains,
Or yield ſuſtaining food,
Perchance the ſafe and friendly coaſt,
Our toiling ſteps might gain,
Where Britain's ſons, with envied boaſt,
In Britiſh freedom reign.
[29]
Far ſwell'd the gale with murm'ring ſound,
And fill'd our hearts with dread;
We caſt a fearful look around,
And, trembling, ſwifter fled.
Now o'er the earth the cloſing night
Her ſable veil had thrown;
Nor yet had our diſaſtrous flight
Or reſt or ſolace known.
Sudden, my Emma's burſting tears
In copious torrents fell;
"Sweet Love!" I cried," theſe gloomy fears
"Let brighter hope diſpel!"
"No fears," her falt'ring voice replied,
"My conſtant ſoul invade;
"Where'er we wander, by thy ſide
"I wander undiſmay'd.
[30]
"Yet, 'midſt the ſhades of night ſecure,
"Eſcap'd from ev'ry eye,
"(No more theſe feeble limbs endure—)
"Ah! ceaſe awhile to fly!"
Fainting ſhe ſpoke; with eager haſte
My hands her couch prepare:
But what, amid that dreary waſte,
Avail'd a lover's care!
Yet on the ground my garments laid,
Her tender form encloſe;
"And mine the welcome taſk," I ſaid,
"To watch o'er thy repoſe!
"Parent of mercy, from thy hand
"The ſtreams of comfort pour!
"Let balmy ſleep, at thy command,
"Her waſted ſtrength reſtore!"
[31]
Great God, who hear'ſt the ſuppliant's cry,
And calm'ſt the wretch's pain,
Why, in that hour of agony,
Were breath'd my pray'rs in vain!

CANTO III.

[32]
SOFT as the ſleep, which, tir'd at eve,
The harmleſs infant knows,
So ſoft, ah, ſoft but to deceive!
Appear'd my love's repoſe.
With ſilent joy each breath I heard,
That gently heav'd her breaſt,
And many a pray'r anew preferr'd,
To bleſs the wholeſome reſt:
Hope charm'd awhile my troubled thought,
When, ſtarting from the ground,
My neck the trembling Emma caught,
And wildly claſp'd me round;
[33]
"Hold! hold! they drag him hence away!
"But we'll together die!
"Ah, ſay, my only ſafety, ſay,
"My Albert, art thou nigh?"
"Behold thy Albert ever near!
"Whence ſpring thy fears anew?
"No dang'rous rival threatens here,
"No vengeful foes purſue.
"To balmy ſlumber yield again
"Thy limbs, that fev'rous burn;
"To-morrow's dawn ſhall baniſh pain,
"And peace with light return."
Now, with tumultuous haſte, the blood
Cours'd ardent through her veins,
And ſcarce the fiercely-frantic mood.
Her Albert's voice reſtrains.
[34]
"Oh, ſcorching fires, that inward rage,
"And ravage life's retreat!
"Oh, parching thirſt, thy force aſſwage!
"Allay thy deadly heat!
"Farewell, my Albert! yet in death
"Let not remembrance die!
"Thine is this laſt, this fleeting breath,
"And thine this parting ſigh!"
With accents, ſuch as Love inſpires,
I ſtrove to calm her woe;
"If aught to cool thoſe raging fires
"Within the deſert flow,
"My ſearch the precious draught ſhall find,
"And bring thee quick relief;
"Suſpend this anguiſh of the mind,
"Endure awhile thy grief!"
[35]
Then forth my doubtful courſe I took,
Attentive bent to hear,
If, 'mid the gloom, or murm'ring brook
Or bubbling ſpring were near.
While ſwift I trod, the yielding ſoil
My paſſing feet bedew'd;
O'erjoy'd, I bleſs'd the proſp'rous toil,
That ev'ry hope renew'd:
Eager I ſtoop'd, with anxious care,
Each ſcanty drop to drain;
Then flew, the gather'd prize to bear,
And ſooth my Emma's pain.
Perplex'd, I trace with fearful choice
The ſcarce-remember'd ground;
Aloud I call—my Emma's voice
Returns a grateful ſound.
[36]
As joys the mother o'er her child,
If found, where chance he ſtrays,
While yet her boſom heaving wild
The paſt alarm betrays;
So gladden'd, I that ſound purſue;
Again I call more nigh—
Her languid accents ſcarce renew
The feebly form'd reply!
With panting ſpeed more ſwift I fly,
And trembling o'er her bend;
"My Emma, taſte! thou ſhalt not die;
"Heav'n deigns this aid to ſend."
Her lifted arms my boſom preſs'd,
And folding, ſtrove to cloſe;
But ſunk unconſcious from my breaſt,
And death's chill damps aroſe.
[37]
"Emma!" I cried, "moſt lov'd! moſt dear!
"Thou all that I adore!"—
No ſound reſponſive met my ear—
The conflict was no more!

CANTO IV.

[38]
SILENT, in horror and diſmay,
Through the drear hours of night,
I watch'd afar the doubtful ray
Of ſlow-returning light.
With pangs more keen my ſoul to fill,
Aroſe that cheerleſs ray;
Appall'd I view'd the mighty ill,
And curs'd the coming day.
What more enſued—how robb'd of ſenſe,
How proſtrate on the plain,
Or how awak'd—remembrance thence
Attempts to trace in vain.
[39]
High Heav'n, to mercy ſtill inclin'd,
Beheld my abject plight,
And deign'd upon my darken'd mind
To ſhed redeeming light.
As breathe the plains, and ſmile anew
Amid ſerener day,
Where late the furious whirlwind flew,
And ſcatter'd wild diſmay;
Such calm my ſoul perceiv'd, when firſt
Renew'd by Faith's pure beam,
While ev'ry paſſion fled, diſperſt
Before the bright'ning gleam.
At once each impious thought repreſs'd,
That madden'd in deſpair,
Devotion taught my alter'd breaſt
The will ſupreme to bear.
[40]
With firm reſolve, but fainting ſtrength,
The lifeleſs corſe I bore,
Nor void of hope to reach at length
The diſtant, friendly ſhore.
Not long my toil; this cloſe retreat,
With grateful wonder view'd,
(For holy purpoſe refuge meet)
Heav'n's pitying guidance ſhew'd.
'Mid'ſt parching plains of barren ſand,
Severely ſpread around,
This vale by Nature's bounteous hand
With ſprings and woods is crown'd.
Beneath yon plane-tree's branchy ſhade
The lighteſt turf I choſe,
And there her grave, with anguiſh made,
My hands were doom'd to cloſe:
[41]
There, while my tears faſt-trickling fell,
To Heav'n I rais'd my pray'r,
And ſlowly bade a laſt farewell
To all my earthly care!
Now daily, o'er that precious mound,
HIS goodneſs I implore,
Who knows my ſuff'ring's lateſt bound,
And will my peace reſtore!
Mine was the guilt, by paſſion led,
The virtuous heart to ſtain,
For which Heav'n loads this weary head
With years of ling'ring pain:
But may my penitence atone
For innocence betray'd;
Juſt vengeance puniſh me alone,
And ſpare her injur'd ſhade!
[42]
Nine times the ſun's revolving ray,
Amid theſe wilds, I've view'd
Illume with vainly-laviſh'd day
The dreary ſolitude:
Meanwhile of man the cheerful face,
Or voice, 'till you appear'd,
My longing eye hath ceas'd to trace,
Mine ear hath never heard!
And, 'till in death theſe limbs are cold,
My ſacred vow I'll keep,
Full oft, o'er yonder ſwelling mould,
To pray, to faſt, and weep.
FINIS.

Appendix A

[]

The Subject of this Poem is in part taken from a favorite French Novel, of which the principal Circumſtances are believed to be founded on Facts.

Notes
*
Ancor men' duol, purch'io mene rimembri.DANTE, INF.
*
Verbis capta Puella tuis. Ov.Ep.
Mentis prima ruina meae. Ov.Ep.
[...]Hom. Od.
Nec tantum ſcelus eſſe putabam. Ov. Ep.
—do nunca pie humano Eſtampó ſu piſada.GARCILASO.
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