He in his wedding trim so gay, Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts? At once his bosom swell: The damps of death bedew'd his brow, From the vain bride, ah, bride no more! When stretch'd before her rival's corse, Oft at his grave, the constant hind, With garlands gay, and true-love knots; 聊 They deck the sacred green; But swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art, This hallow'd spot forbear; Remember Colin's dreadful fate; And fear to meet him there. NANCY OF THE VALE. A BALLAD, The Western sky was purpled o'er When from an hazle's artless bower He blest the scene, he blest the hour, Let fops with fickle falsehood range While weeping maids lament their change, And sadden every grove: But endless blessings crown the day I saw fair Esham's dale! And every blessing find its way To Nancy of the vale. 'Twas from Avona's banks the maid Diffus'd her lovely beams; And every shining glance display'd Soft as the wild-duck's tender young, And glittering near its side. Fresh as the bordering flowers, her bloom: Her shape was like a reed so sleek, So taper, strait, and fair; Her dimpled smile, her blushing cheek, Far in the winding vale retir'd, And shadowing rock and woods conspir'd That nature in so lone a dell Should form a nymph so sweet; Or fortune to her secret cell Conduct my wandering feet! Gay lordlings sought her for their bride, Prove to your equals true, she cry'd 'Tis Strephon, on the mountain's brow, Has won my right good will; To him I gave my plighted vow, Struck with her charms and gentle truth, To her alone I GAVE my youth, And when this vow shall faithless prove, The stream that saw our tender love, THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM It was a summer evening, She saw her brother Peterkin In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found, That was so large, and smooth, and round. Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh, 'Tis some poor fellow's scull, said he, Who fell in the great victory. |