Nor blam'd his cruelty -nor wifh'd to hate Whom once fhe lov'd-but pitied, and forgave: Then unrepining yielded to her fate, And funk in filent anguish to the grave. Children of affluence, hear a poor man's prayer! Sink my grey hairs with forrow to the tomb. COLMA. IS night: and on the hill of florms While round her fhriek fantastic forms O'er rocks the torrent roars amain, The whirlwind's voice is high: Rife, moon! kind ftars! appear a while; Where refts my love, o'ercome with toil, Some light! direct me, helpless maid! Where fitting on the ground, Elfe by the rock, the ftream befide, While howls the wind, and roars the tide, Ah! why, my Salgar! this delay, Here is the rock, and here the tree, Thy promife canft thou break with me? And is my love forgot? For thee I'd dare my brother's pride? Be hufh'd, ye winds! how loud ye brawl! Stream! ftand a moment ftill; Perhaps my love may hear me call, Upon the neighbouring hill. Q : Ho! Salgar! Salgar! mend thy pace; 'Tis I, and this th' appointed place: Kind moon! thou giv'ft a friendly light; And lo! the glaffy stream, And the grey rocks, through dufky night, Yet I defcry not Salgar's form; But what behold I, on the heath? They answer not-they fleep-they're dead- And bleeding from the fight. Ah! wherefore lies, by Salgar flain, Friends of my choice! how lov'd were both! Of thousands lovely, Salgar's face Sons of my love! speak once again Ah no! to death a prey, Silent they are, and muft remain; But ere their fleeting fpirits fled, Or fhun the shadows of the dead Speak, where on rock, or mountain grave, Ah! where her friends fhall Colma find? Fearlefs, yet overwhelm'd with grief, I fit all night in tears; Hopelefs of comfort or relief, When morning light appears. Yet raife, ye friends of these the dead, For why behind them should we flay, Together here our corfes lay, So fhall my fhivering ghost be seen, As homeward hies the hunter keen, Yet fhall he, fearless, pafs along, For fweet, though fad, fhall be my fong, |