EDWIN
AND
ALICIA
.
A
TALE
.
MANY
are
the
mournful
stories
Which
the
page
of
love
unfolds
;
Many
are
the
piercing
sorrows
Which
that
faithful
record
holds
.
Love
,
that
jewel
of
our
nature
,
Parents
oft
have
sought
to
buy
;
But
'tis
merit
makes
the
purchase
,
Or
'tis
fancy
casts
the
die
.
'Tis
not
wealth
,
nor
sordid
riches
,
That
are
treasures
of
the
mind
;
No
;
—
'tis
surely
sweet
contentment
Which
in
humble
breasts
we
find
.
Think
not
,
parents
,
that
your
children
Can
your
sober
plans
pursue
,
Or
your
influence
bind
their
natures
E'er
to
think
or
act
like
you
.
Fifty
years
have
render'd
callous
Those
affections
which
you
blame
;
But
let
Memory
be
recorder
,
And
you'll
find
yours
once
the
same
.
If
at
twenty
hearts
were
harden'd
,
And
could
every
feeling
brave
;
What
would
be
their
rigid
natures
Ere
they
dropp'd
into
the
grave
!
Once
within
this
happy
island
Liv'd
a
knight
of
mighty
fame
;
Birth
,
and
wealth
,
and
growing
greatness
,
From
the
world
acquire
a
name
.
Pride
had
mix'd
with
every
honour
,
And
ambition
steel'd
his
breast
;
Nor
did
there
e'er
one
soft
emotion
Make
atonement
for
the
rest
.
Yet
the
wise
and
gracious
Donor
Had
one
counter-gift
bestow'd
;
And
,
to
lead
his
soul
to
mercy
,
Sweet
Alicia
points
the
road
.
Youth
conjoin'd
with
all
the
Graces
Taught
the
maiden
how
to
move
,
And
in
every
beauteous
feature
Beam'd
benevolence
and
love
.
Flora
,
as
she
cross'd
her
garden
,
Twin'd
the
lily
with
the
rose
;
And
,
when
passing
sweet
Alicia
,
On
her
head
the
gift
bestows
.
Form'd
by
virtue
and
by
nature
For
the
solace
of
some
heart
,
Many
a
youth
with
noble
fervour
Sought
in
her's
to
gain
a
part
.
Merit
only
caught
the
maiden
,
Merit
made
one
youth
belov'd
;
—
Edwin
durst
not
hope
for
favour
,
Yet
'twas
Edwin
she
approv'd
.
Birth
nor
riches
gild
his
title
,
Simple
worth
is
all
his
claim
;
Yet
she
thinks
that
fair
escutcheon
Brightest
in
heraldic
fame
.
But
,
alas
!
the
world's
opinion
Will
not
sanctify
the
thought
;
Nor
,
Alicia
,
will
thy
father
Value
merit
as
it
ought
.
Long
was
seen
the
lovely
maiden
In
dejection
slowly
move
!
Smiles
forsook
their
former
mansion
And
she
fear'd
the
cause
was
love
.
This
the
angry
father
told
her
,
And
as
he
told
he
scorn'd
her
woes
;
To
her
child
,
blanch'd
with
emotion
,
The
unhappy
mother
goes
.
"
Ah
,
my
love
,
have
you
deceiv'd
me
!
Why
not
trust
this
feeling
breast
?
Sure
thou
knowest
I'd
die
to
save
thee
,
Die
to
lull
thy
woes
to
rest
.
"
"
Yes
;
too
well
I
know
your
goodness
,
Gratitude
now
swells
this
heart
;
And
when
forc'd
to
pierce
that
bosom
,
Think
but
how
my
own
must
smart
.
Your
inquiring
looks
have
ask'd
me
Often
—
why
the
smother'd
sigh
?
And
your
nice
discernment
told
you
Every
cause
and
reason
why
.
Often
have
you
seen
my
sorrow
,
Seen
the
anguish
of
my
soul
;
Edwin
—
but
I
need
not
tell
you
,
—
Edwin
does
this
heart
controul
!
"
The
gallant
ship
her
wings
unfurls
,
And
speeds
before
the
favouring
wind
;
Edwin
from
his
lov'd
retreats
Reluctant
hies
to
burning
Ind
.
'Tis
not
change
of
place
nor
climate
Can
a
rooted
sorrow
move
;
Neither
is
the
power
of
absence
Equal
to
the
charm
of
love
.
Edwin
found
this
truth
,
and
,
drooping
,
On
the
Ganges'
banks
reclin'd
;
Sultry
suns
seem'd
in
conjunction
With
the
fever
of
his
mind
.
Sad
despair
,
and
cruel
absence
,
Swift
the
vital
thread
had
worn
;
And
upon
his
funeral
bier
Hapless
Edwin
soon
was
borne
.
Equal
grief
by
slower
movements
Brought
Alicia
to
the
tomb
;
Deep
disease
by
secret
workings
Undermin'd
her
youthful
bloom
.
Absence
all
her
comforts
wasted
,
All
her
joys
with
Edwin
flew
;
Though
each
day
her
glowing
fancy
Brought
her
Edwin
to
her
view
.
O'er
her
father's
rigid
nature
Dying
sorrows
now
prevail
;
—
"
Live
Alicia
,
live
my
daughter
!
Nor
on
me
thy
woes
entail
.
My
pride
and
hate
I've
now
discarded
;
Edwin's
merit
claims
thy
hand
;
Soon
,
soon
may
propitious
breezes
Waft
him
to
his
native
land
!
"
Joy
illum'd
its
former
mansion
,
Alicia's
eye
again
was
bright
;
Hope
shone
forth
in
rays
of
gladness
,
And
her
soul
was
all
delight
.
But
ah
,
how
short
our
gleams
of
pleasure
!
Sorrow
only
seems
to
last
;
Joys
,
like
arrows
,
swiftly
flying
,
Scarce
are
seen
ere
they
are
past
.
Alicia
heard
her
Edwin's
story
,
Then
sweet
hope
for
ever
fled
;
Every
look
declar'd
her
dying
,
And
how
much
she
wish'd
her
dead
.
Soon
her
wishes
were
accomplish'd
,
Soon
she
breath'd
her
latest
breath
;
And
her
parents
mourn'd
,
heartbroken
,
Their
dear
Alicia
till
their
death
.
Yearly
shall
the
village
maidens
Visit
poor
Alicia's
tomb
,
And
,
as
they
list
her
simple
story
,
Strew
fresh
flowers
of
fairest
bloom
.