By Lucy warn'd, of flatt'ring fwains Of vengeance due to broken vows, Three times all in the dead of night, Too well the love-lorn maiden knew I hear a voice you cannot hear, I fee a hand you cannot fee, By a falfe heart, and broken vows, Was I to blame, because the bride Is twice as rich as I? Ah, Ah, COLIN, give not her thy vows, Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kifs, To-morrow in the church to wed Impatient both prepare: But know, fond maid, and know, false man, That Lucy will be there. Then bear my corfe, ye comrades dear, He in his wedding-trim fo gay, She spoke and dy'd, her corfe was borne, He in his wedding-trim fo gay, She in her winding sheet. Oh! what were perjur'd COLIN's thoughts? How were thofe nuptials kept? The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead, And all the village wept. Compaffion, Compaffion, fhame, remorfe, defpair, The damps of death bedew'd his brows, From the vain bride, a bride no more, He to his Lucy's new-made grave, Oft at this place the conftant hind But, fwain forfworn, whoe'er thou art, Remember COLIN's dreadful fate, TICKELL. W HEN all was wrapt in dark midnight In glided MARGARET's grimly ghost Her face was like an April morn And clay-cold was her lily hand So fhall the fairest face appear, Her bloom was like the fpringing flower That fips the filver dew The rofe was budded in her cheek, Juft opening to the view. But But love had, like the canker worm, The rofe grew pale and left her cheek, Awake, fhe cried, thy true-love calls This is the mirk and fearful hour Bethink thee, WILLIAM, of thy fault, How could you fay my face was fair, And yet that face forfake? Yet leave that heart to break? How |