Whoe'er thou art whose path in summer lies br Through yonder village, turn thee where the grove br Of branching oaks a rural palace old br Imbosoms. there dwells Albert, generous lord br Of all the harvest round. and onward thence br A low plain chapel fronts the morning light br Fast by a silent riv'let. Humbly walk, br O stranger, o'er the consecrated ground; br And on that verdant hilloc, which thou see'st br Beset with osiers, let thy pious hand br Sprinkle fresh water from the brook and strew br Sweet-smelling flowers. for there doth Edmund rest, br The learned shepherd; for each rural art br Fam'd, and for songs harmonious, and the woes br Of ill-requited love. The faithless pride br Of fair Matilda sank him to the grave br In manhood's prime. But soon did righteous heaven br With tears, with sharp remorse, and pining care, br Avenge her falshood. nor could all the gold br And nuptial pomp, which lur'd her plighted faith br From Edmund to a loftier husband's home, br Relieve her breaking heart, or turn aside br The strokes of death. Go, traveller; relate br The mournful story. haply some fair maid br May hold it in remembrance, and be taught br That riches cannot pay for truth or love.