תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Again he fhot, nor mifs'd his aim,

Another horfe fell dead;

Three more fell flound'ring in the stream, And then bold Murray fled.

He join'd the lovers in their flight,
The happy deed he told;

Her cheeks warm blushes render bright,
Which fear before made cold.

Blushes of joy her cheeks adorn,
Which Hume with rapture faw;
The priest was called that bleffed morn,
And fanction'd love with law.

But Langley and his fons with fhame,
From out the water rife;

On foot, and flower then he came,
To Percy now he hies.

A boon, earl Percy, I request;

What boon, faid Percy, then! That all in glitt'ring armour dreft,

Invade the Scottish men.

For Hume, that thief, hath ftole my child,

My pleasure and my pride:

He bore her thro' the marfhes wild,

With Murray by his fide.

Who, as we crofs'd the Tweed, took aim,

Moft like a traitor Scot,

And all our horfes in the ftream

With his sharp arrows fhot.

God's blood! quo'h Percy, wicked Cain!

To steal thy Rosaline!

Hath Hume thy bonny daughter ta'en? I would he had taken mine

For tho' my foe, I love him well,
And prize his martial fire;
Langley, in footh I fhall not mell,
Would he could call me fire!

LOVE AND GRIEF, OR THE DEATH OF

THE SUTHERLANDS.

ROM Caledonia's diflant bounds,

F Beyond the Murray firth,

Where Scottish men, with warlike founds
Join dance, and fong, and mirth.

There came the lord of Sutherland,
A youth tall, fair, and free;
His race was aye a gallant band,
A gallant youth was he.

He lov'd his king, his country lov'd;
A trufty blade he bore

To fmite their foes; by fear unmov'd;
Their foes him dreaded fore.

Yet gentle was he, too, and kind,
As kindeft friend might be;
For ftill in braveft fouls, we find,

Dwells fweet humanity.

A youth fo brave, a youth fo mild,

What lady would not love? Where'er he came, whene'er he smil'd, In vain the fair ones ftrove

To quench the foft, but dang'rous flame
That in their bofoms glow'd;
The kindling blush that went and came
The fecret flame ftill fhow'd.

Amid the reft, a lovely maid,
Maria hight was feen;

Lovely her looks, her manners ftaid,
But most her mind, I ween,

Did take who faw, meek was that mind
As meekeft infant's fmiles;
And wife as age, nor yet inclin'd
To cunning that beguiles.

Nor art nor cunning needed she,
Her foul was fill'd with grace;
Sincerely good, and nobly free,
Her foul beam'd in her face.

In deftin'd hour young Sutherland
Beheld the beauteous maid;

Her beauty could his youth withstand,
Such beauty fo array'd?

[ocr errors]

Ah, no! her charms, by Virtue dreft,
Did feize the hero's heart;

He lov'd, he courted, he was bleft-
Death only could them part:-

Nor that long time!-Lift to my tale,

A tale of love and woe;

If pity in your breast prevail,
Lift, and a tear beflow.

Midft all that worth and wealth combin'd,

Which friends and fame confer,

Of pleasure on the feeling mind,
Did live this happy pair.

Their happinefs to crown, kind Heav'n

Two pretty babes did lend;
Lent was the bleffing, not so giv'n,
But for it Heav'n might fend.

And fend Heav'n did, ere long, for part, The eldeft was recall'd;

Both parents forely ru'd the fmart,.

The fmart them both appall'd.

Now firft appall'd, our warrior brave
Sunk down in deep difmay;
And oft he view'd his darling's grave,
His darling torn away.

« הקודםהמשך »