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She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffen'd to stone;
She took the gory head up in her arms;

She kiss'd the pale lips; she had no tears to shed; She hugg'd it to her breast, and groan'd her last.

H

SONG.

OW sweet I roam'd from field to field
And tasted all the summer's pride,

Till I the Prince of Love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!

He shew'd me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair
Where all his golden pleasures grow.

With sweet May-dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fired my vocal rage;

He caught me in his silken net,

And shut me in his golden cage.

He loves to sit and hear me sing,

Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;

Then stretches out my golden wing

And mocks my loss ofliberty.

SONG.

Y silks and fine array,

MY

My smiles and languish'd air

By love are driven away;

And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave : Such end true lovers have.

His face is fair as heaven

When springing buds unfold;

O why to him was't given,

Whose heart is wintry cold? His breast is love's all-worshipp'd tomb, Where all love's pilgrims come.

Bring me an axe and spade,

Bring me a winding-sheet;

When I my grave have made

Let winds and tempests beat: Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay : True love doth pass away!

L

SONG.

OVE and harmony combine

And around our souls intwine,

While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.

Joys upon our branches sit,
Chirping loud, and singing sweet;

Like gentle streams beneath our feet
Innocence and virtue meet.

Thou the golden fruit dost bear,
I am clad in flowers fair;

Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
And the turtle buildeth there.

There she sits and feeds her young,
Sweet I hear her mournful song;
And thy lovely leaves among
There is Love; I hear his tongue.

There his charming nest doth lay,
There he sleeps the night away;
There he sports along the day
And doth among our branches play.

I

SONG.

LOVE the jocund dance,

The softly-breathing song,

Where innocent eyes do glance

And where lisps the maiden's tongue.

I love the laughing vale,

I love the echoing hill, Where mirth does never fail,

And the jolly swain laughs his fill.

I love the pleasant cot,

I love the innocent bower, Where white and brown is our lot Or fruit in the mid-day hour.

I love the oaken seat,

Beneath the oaken tree, Where all the old villagers meet, And laugh our sports to see.

I love our neighbours all,

But, Kitty, I better love thee;
And love them I ever shall,
But thou art all to me.

M

SONG.

EMORY, hither come

And tune your merry notes :

And while upon the wind

Your music floats

I'll pore upon the stream
Where sighing lovers dream,
And fish for fancies as they pass
Within the watery glass.

I'll drink of the clear stream

And hear the linnet's song,
And there I'll lie and dream
The day along:

And when night comes, I'll go
To places fit for woe,

Walking along the darken'd valley
With silent Melancholy.

MAD SONG.

HE wild winds weep,

TH

And the night is a-cold;

Come hither, Sleep,

And my griefs infold:

But lo! the morning peeps

Over the eastern steeps,

And the rustling beds of dawn

The earth do scorn.

Lo! to the vault

Of paved heaven,

With sorrow fraught

My notes are driven :

с

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