"That ftraite I wille myfel betake

“Udto a nunnerie,

"In faste and prayre to ende my dayes "And kepte that vowe fhalle bee:

"Go yee, and feeke a fairer bride, "And live in pleasaunce gaye, "While to the house of godlineffe “I take myfel awaye."

Naye, doe nae wende yee quite awaye,
Lifte, lifte, my piercinge ca'!
Returne! and for youre broken vowe,
On mee the paine be a!

"She's gane."-He heav'd a deepe-drawne fighe,
As braft his hearte in twaine,
Sine to the ground fast-falled he,
And never rofe againe.

XXI.

T

The DEATH of ALLEN: a Ballad,

HE bells they rang all in the morn,

And Allen he rofe full foon,

Sad tydings were heard for Allen to hear,
That Mary would wed ere noon.

Then Allen he call'd on Thomas's name,
And Thomas came at his call:
"Make ready a coffin and winding shroud,
For. Mary fhall fee my fall.

"When laft we parted with brimful eye,

Right-loving fhe made a vow;

"But Richard has twice as many sheep,

"And Mary forgets me now.

"Then bear me to the green-grafs-bank,

"Where we did kifs and play,

"And tell her, the rain, that made it so green, Has wash'd my kifles away."

The

The bridegroom led the bride so fair,

The priest he came anon;

But Thomas he brought his dear friend's corfe,

Or ere the wedding was done.

He laid him on the green-grafs-bank,
Where they did kiss and play,

And told her, the rain, that made it fo green,
Had wafh'd his kiffes away.

When the beheld poor Allen's dead corfe,

Her maiden blush was loft,

She faded, as tho' on April morn
A primrose nipt by a frost.

Then all beneath one fatal ftone
Together they buried were.

Falfe maidens, who break your plighted vow,
Take heed ye come not there!.

XXII. The

XXII.

The DISTRESS of MARIAN: a Ballad.

NE April ev'ning, when the fun

ON

Had journey'd down the sky,

Sad Marian, with looks of woe,
Walk'd forth full heavily.

Tears trickled down her faded cheek,
Soft fighs her bosom heav'd;
Soft fighs reveal'd her inward woe ;
Alas! fhe'd been deceiv'd.

"Oh! what a wretch am I become,
"A lucklefs lafs, (faid fhe,)
"The cowflip, and the violet blue,
"Have now no charms for me.

"The golden fun that daily fhines,
"And glitt'ring decks the sky,
"Brings no relief to my diftrefs,

"Or pleasure to my eye.

"This little river, when I drefs'd,

"Has ferv'd me for a glass;

"But now it only fhews how love, "Has ruin'd this poor face.

"What charms could happy Lucy boaft,

"To fix thy wav'ring mind ? "What charms in Lucy more than me, "Ungrateful, couldst thou find?

"Haft thou forgot the tender vows "Which at my feet were made? "Yet I'll not spend my dying hour "Thy falfehood to upbraid.

"But what remaining breath I have
"Shall intercede with heav'n ;
"That all those broken vows to me,
"At last may be forgiv❜n.

"Yer one poor boon, before I die,
"I would of thee require;
"And do not thou refufe to grant
"A wretch's last defire!

"When you with Lucy fhall affix

"The happy marriage-day,

"Oh! do not o'er my green-grafs-grave

"Inhuman take thy way."

CADWAL: