• One glance of thofe deluding eyes

More rapture can bestow,

•Than fhould our monarch quit his throne, And that to me forego.'

No more, fair Ellen!' cries the earl;

I can no longer stay!

• For northward muft I bend my course, • There lies my deftin'd way.'

• With thee, Earl Walter, let me go, · Thy handmaid will I be;

• All perils I with joy can brave,

• That much-lov'd face to fee.'

Rafh Ellen! doft thou know the terms • On which alone thou goeft? • To drop each soft alluring grace, • Thy fex's pride and boaft.

Thofe

There dwells a maid more fair than morn,

• Than summer funs more bright;

• That maiden is my plighted love,

• My joy and fole delight.'

Sad

Awake! awake! thou flothful page;
'Tis dawn of breaking day;

Bring forth in hafte my milk-white steed
I must from hence away.'

But ere her lord could be obey'd,
Uncall'd, Lucina came;

And to fad Ellen's other woes
She adds a mother's name.

Now burst their way the heart-felt groans,
Now falls the trickling tear;
Till thro' the high-refounding dome

They reach Earl Walter's ear.

And doft thou know at length my heart?

• Then have I well been tried!
I only liv'd to prove my faith-
She grafp'd his hand, and died!

THE

RIVAL

BROTHERS.

C

BY MRS. LEAPOR.

ELIA and I, to fhare the vernal gales,

One ev❜ning wander'd o'er the dewy vales;
Still was the foul, and ev'ry fenfe was pleas'd,
And the cool heart from care and bufinefs eas'd:
Arm lock'd in arm, with heedless steps we rove
Round the fair borders of a blooming grove.
Reclin'd at ease, within the secret shades,
A lovely bower held two fairer maids;
Soft Flavia one, with cheeks of rofy dye;
And Sylvia, famous for her ftar-like eye:
Sylvia, whose wit was vers'd in charming wiles,
Who often varied her difcourie with fmiles.
Love-tales fhe told; fome fictious, and fome true;
The fubject various, and her ftories new;
Of innocence opprefs'd by mightier wrong,
And many proofs fhe drew from facred fong;
When Flavia thus. Behold the ling'ring Day

Still paints yon heavens with a filver grey! • And flothful Night with gentler pace comes on, As if the liften'd to thy charming tongue:

• The Rival Brothers, let my Sylvia tell;

How cross they lov'd, and who untimely fell

Her friend replied, You fhall not ask in vain,

Although the ftory gives thy Sylvia pain.'

Then on her cheek her iv'ry hand she laid,

And, with a figh, began the lovely maid,