Imágenes de páginas
PDF

O weep not, Lady, weep not so;

Some ghostly comsort seek:.
Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart,

Nor tears bedew thy cheek.

0 do not, do not,, holy Eri^r,

My sorrow now reprove.;
For I have lost the sweetest ^outh,

That e'er won lady's love.

And now, alas! sor thy. sad, loss,
I'll e'ermore weep and. sigh,:

For thee I only wish'd to live.
For thee I wish to die.

Weep no more, Lady, weep no more,

Thy sorrow is in vain.:
For violets pluck'd, the sweetest showers
Will ne'er make grow, agajn,

Our joys as winged dreams do fly.
Why then should sorrow last; >

Since gries but aggravates thy- loss.
Grieve not sor what is past.

0 say not so, thpu hply Friar,

I pray thee, say not so,:
For since my true-love dy'd sor me,.

Tis meet my tears, should slow*.

And will he ne'er come again?

Will he ne'er come again? Ah! no, he is dead and laid in his grav«.

For ever to remain.

His cheek was redder than the rose;

The comeliest youth was he!— But he is dead and laid in his grave:

Alas, and woe is me!

Sigh no more, Lady, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever:
One soot on sea and one on land,

To one thing constant never.

Hadst thou been sond, he had been salse,

And lest thee sad and heavy;
For young men ever were sickle.sound,

Since summer trees were leasy.

Now say not so, thou holy Friar,

I pray thee say not so,
My love he has the truest heart:

O he was ever true!

And art thou dead, thou much-lov'd youthj

And didst thou die sor me?
Then sarewel home; sor evermore

A pilgrim iwill be.

But sirst upon my true-love's grave

My weary limbs I'll lay,
And thrice I'll kiss the green-grass turs,

That wraps his breathless elay.

Yet stay, sair Lady, rest a while

Beneath this cloyster wall: See, through the hawthorn blows the cold wind,

And drizzly rain doth sall.

0 stay me not, thou holy Friar!

O stay me not I pray!
No drizzly rain that salls on me

Can wash my sault away.

Yet stay, sair Lady, turn again,

And dry those pearly tears;
.For see, beneath this gown os gray

Thy own true-love appears.

Here sorc'd by gries, and hopeless love,

These holy weeds I sought; And here amid these lonely walls

To end my days I thought.

But haply, sor my year os grace

Is not yet past away,
Might I still hope to win thy love,

No longer would I stay.

Now sarewel grief, arid welcome joy

Once more unto my hffrfrt:
For since I have found thee, lovely youth,

We never more will part.

A T A L E.

BY WILLIAM MELMQTH, E S Sk

Ere Saturn's sons were yet disgrac'd,
And heathen gods were all the taste,
Full ost (we read) 'twas Jove's high will
To take an air on Ida's hill.
It chanc'd, as once with serious ken
He view'd srom thence the ways os men,
He saw (and pity tovxh'd hi? breast)
The world by three soul siends potfest:
Pale Discord there, and Folly vain,
With haggard Vice, upheld their reign.
Then sorth he sent his summons high,
And call'd a senate os the sky.
Round as the winged orders prest,
Jove thus his sacred mind exprest:
"Say, which os all this shining train
"Will Virtue's conflict hard sustain?
"For see! she drooping takes her slight,
« While not a god supports her right."

He paus'd—when srom amidst the flcy.
Wit, Innocence, and Harmony,
With one united zeal arose,
The triple tyrants to oppose.
That instant srom the realms os day,
With generous speed, they took their way;
To Britain's ifle direct their ear,
And enter'd with the evening star.

Beside the road a mansion stood,
Pesended by a circling wood:
Hither, disguis'd, their steps they bend,
3n hopes, perchance, to sind a sriend:
Nor vain their hope; sor records say,
Worth ne'er srom thence was turn'd aw.iy.
They urge the traveller's common chance,
And every piteous plea advance:
The artsul tale that Wit had seign'd,
Admittance easy soon obtain'd.

The dame who own'd, adorn'd the pl.ice Three blooming daughters added graee. The sirst, with gentlest manners blest, .. And temper sweet, each 1veart poi&st; Who view'd her, catch'd the tender stable; And soft Amasia was her name. In sprightly sense and polifll'd air, What maid with Mira might compare f While Lucia's eyej and Lucia's lyre, .Did um et; tied love inspire.

M

« AnteriorContinuar »