« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
By Lucy warn'd, of flatt'ring swains
Take heed, ye easy fair!
Ye perjured swains, beware!
Three times all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring;
The raven flapp'd her wing.
Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
The folemn-boding found, And thus in dying words bespoke
The maidens weeping round,
I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says į must not stay ; I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away..
By a false heart, and broken vows,
In early youth I die :
Is twice as rich as I?
Ah, Colin, give not her thy vows,
Vows due to me alone!
And think him all thy own!
To-morrow in the church to wed
Impatient both prepare : But know, fond maid, and know, false man,
That LUCY will be there.
Then bear my corse, ye
comrades dear, The bridegroom blithe to meet; He in his wedding-trim so gay,
I in my winding sheet!
She spoke and dy'd, her corse was borne,
The bridegroom blithe to meet ; He in his wedding-trim so gay,
She in her winding sheet,
Oh! what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?
How were those nuptials kept ?
Compassion, Ihame, remorse, despair,
At once his bosom swell :
He shook, he groan’d, he fell.
From the vain bride, a bride no more,
The varying crimson fled ;
She saw her husband dead.
He to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains, One mold with her, beneath one fod,
For ever now remains.
Oft at this place the constant hind
And plighted maid are seen :
They deck the facred green.
But, swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,
This hallowed spot forbear! Remember COLIN's dreadful fate, And fear to meet him there.
HEN all was wrapt in dark midnight
And all were fast alleep,
And stood at WILLIAM's feet.
Her face was like an April morn
Clad in a wintry cloud,
That held her fable shroud.
So shall the faireft face
appear, When youth and years are flown ; Such is the robe that kings must wear
When death has reft their crown.
Her bloom was like the springing flower
That fips the silver dew;
Juft opening to the view.
But love had, like the canker worm,
Consum'd her early prime ;
She died before her time.
Awake, she cried, thy true love calls
Come from her midnight grave; Now let thy pity hear the maid
Thy love refufed to save,
This is the mirk and fearful hour
When injur'd ghosts complain; Now dreary graves give up their dead
To haunt the faithless swain.
Bethink thee, WILLIAM, of thy fault,
Thy pledge, and broken oath; And give me back my maiden vow,
And give me back my troth,
How could you say my face was fair,
that face forsake ?
Yet leave that heart to break :