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Moist from her pencil, tempting scenes arise ;
On common life, Romances tints she lays,
'Till cold Reality her hand applies
And at the touch each flatter'd form decays.

Ah dearest boy ! warn'd by experience, now
The pebble's form shall tempt thine eye no more;
Would that my verse my Cinthio! could bestow,
A shield to guard thee against Fancy's power.

AMELIA OPIB.

KING HENRY V. and the HERMIT of

DREUX.

While Henry V.lay at the siege of Dreux, an honest Hermit unknown to him, came and told him the great evils he brought on Christendom by his unjust ambition, who usurped the kingdom of France, against all manner of right, and contrary to the will of God; wherefore in his holy name he threatened him with a severe and sudden punishment; if he desisted not from his enterprize. Henry took this exhortation either as an idle whimsey, or a suggestion of the Dauphin's, and was but the more confirmed in his design. But the blow soon followed the threatening ; for within some fero months after, he was smitten with a strange and incurable disease,

Mezitay.

He past unquestioned thro' the camp,

Their heads the soldiers bent In silent reverence, or begg'd

A blessing as he went ; And so the Hermit past along

And reach'd the royal tent.

King Henry sate in his tent alone
The
map

before him lay,
Fresh conquests he was planning there

To grace the future day.

King Henry lifted up his eyes

The intruder to behold,
With reverence he the hermit saw,

For he was very old,
His look was gentle as a Saint's
And
yet

his

eye was bold.

Repent thee, Henry, of the wrongs

That thou hast done this land, O King repent in time, for know

The judgement is at hand.

I have past forty years of peace

Beside the river Blaise,
But what a weight of woe hast thou

Laid on my latter days.

I used to see along the stream

The white sail sailing down, That wafted food in better times

To yonder peaceful town.

Henry! I never now behold

The white sail sailing down ; Famine, Disease, and Death and Thou

Destroy that wretched town.

I used to hear the traveller's voice

As here he past along,
Or maiden as she loiter'd home

Singing her even-song.

I never hear the traveller's voice,

In fear he hastens by,
But I have heard the village maid

In vain for succour cry.

I used to see the youths row here

And watch the dripping oar, As pleasantly their viols tones

Came softened to the shore.

King Henry many a blacken'd corpse

I now see floating down!
Thou bloody man! repent in time

And leave this leagerd town.

I shall go on, King Henry cried

And conquer this good land, Seest thou not Hermit that the Lord Has given it to my

hand.?

F

The Hermit heard King Henry-speak

And angrily look'd down, His face was gentle and for that

More solemn was his frown.

What if no miracle from heaven

The murderers arm controul, Think you for that the weight of blood

Lies lighter on his soul?

Thou conqueror King repent in time

Or dread the coming woe, For Henry thou hast heard the threat

And soon shalt feel the blow.

King Henry forced a careless smile,

As the Hermit went his way ; But Henry soon remembered him

Upon his dying day

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