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With faultering voice she weeping said,
Oh Dawson, monarch of my heart;
For thou and I will never part.
The gracious prince that gave him life
Would crown a never-dying flame;
Should learn to lisp the givers name.
But though, dear youth, thou should's be dragg'd
To yonder ignominious tree;
To share thy bitter fate with thee.
O then her mourning coach was call’d,
The fledge mov'd slowly on before ;
She had not loy'd her favourite more.
She follow'd him, prepar’d to view
The terrible behests of law;
With calm and stedfaft eye she saw.
Distorted was that blooming face,
Which she had fondly lov'd so long: And stilled was that tuneful breath,
Which in her praise had sweetly sung:
And sever'd was that beauteous neck,
Round which her arms had fondly clos'd : And mangled was that beauteous breast,
On which her love-fick head repos'd :
And ravish'd was that constant heart,
She did to every heart prefer ;
'Twas true and loyal still to her.
Amid those unrelenting flames
She bore this constant heart to fee; But when 'twas moulder'd into dust,
Now, now, she cried, I follow thee.
My death, my death alone can show
pure and lasting love I bore: Accept o heav'n! of woes like ours,
And let us, let us weep no more.
The dismal scene was o'er and past,
The lovers mournful hearse retir'd; The maid drew back her languid head,
And fighing forth his name, expir'd.
L O y E-S O N G S.
AIREST ifle, all isles excelling,
Seat of pleasure and of love,
And forsake her Cyprian grove.
Cupid, from his fav'rite nation,
Care and envy will remove,
And despair that dies for love.
* In the opera of King Arthur.