NE morning very early, one morning in the spring, a I heard a maid in Bedlam who mournfully did fing, Her chains fhe rattled on her hands while fweetly thus fung fhe, I love my love, because I know my love loves me. Oh cruel were his parents who fent my love to fea, O fhould it please the pitying pow'rs to call me to the sky, I'll make a ftrawy garland, I'll make it wondrous fine, Oh if I were a little bird to build upon his breaft, Oh if I were an eagle, to foar into the sky! ; I'd gaze around with piercing eyes where I my love might spy; HE fun was funk beneath the hill, TH The western clouds were lined with gold, Clear was the fky, the wind was ftill, The flocks were penn'd within the fold; When When in the filence of the grove Who feeks to pluck the fragrant rofe With equal faith may hope to find No herds have I, no fleecy care, No fields that wave with golden grain, How wretched is the faithful youth Whene'er they figh, they figh for gold. Το To buy the gems of India's coaft What wealth, what riches would fuffice? Yet India's fhore should never boast The luftre of thy rival eyes; For there the world too cheap must prøve; Then, MARY, fince nor gems nor ore Than gems or ore, a heart fincere : HAT beauties does Flora difclofe? WE But MARY'S ftill fweeter than those Nor all the gay flowers of the field, The The warblers are heard in each grove, The linnet, the lark and the thrush; The blackbird and fweet cooing dove With mufic enchant every bush. Come let us go forth to the mead, Let us fee how the primroses fpring; We'll lodge in fome village on Tweed, And love while the feather'd folks fing. How does my love pass the long day? While happily fhe lies asleep? Tweed's murmurs fhould lull her to reft, "Tis fhe does the virgins excel, No beauty with her can compare, Love's graces all round her do dwell, She's faireft where thousands are fair. Say charmer where do thy flocks stray? Oh! tell me at noon where they feed: Shall I feek them on fweet winding Tay, Or the pleasanter banks of the Tweed. |