791- THE COLD. 107 



The Cold, or Colin and Cynthia, a ballad. 



When furly wintfr frown'd on all, 

 When hail beat hard and fnow didfaH, 



And rattle lingered in the fold ; 

 When Boreas blafts fevere did fcoull, 

 And whfitling loud W\th angry houl. 



All ravaged o'er, and kiU'd with peircing cold; 



Young Colin then was called away. 

 His king and country' ^to obey. 



And fight for glitt'ring baneful gold : 

 Without a murmur or repine, 1 



He ftole away his corps to join. 



And wander'd penfive through the piercing cold. 



He beauteous Cynthia long had woo'd. 

 Nor long in vain had he jMirfued, 



Not e'en to her his tale he told. 

 But left the lovely maid forlorn, 

 To weep, to languifh and to mourn, 



And wander'd penfive onward through the cold. 



'Twas night ; the rain in torrents pour'd, 

 And boift'rous whirhvindsloudly roar'd. 



No meteor did the darkfome path unfold. 

 The flars theit twinkling heads did (hrowd, 

 The moon was hid behind a cloud; 



'Twasdark, 'twas chill, 'twas piercing cole. 



When Cynthia, left her father's home. 

 After her faithlefs love to roam, 



Ah thoughtlefs fair, too rafhly bold. 

 All night the wandered through the fnow. 

 Through tradllcfs waftes flie did not know, 



Driv'n by the wind, and ftiffen'd by the cold. 



But who can tell the anguifh of the maid. 

 When glimmering morn appear'd in fable Ihade, 



And nought but fnow around Ae did behold: 

 Awhile in filent agot'.y fhe flood. 

 And bowed htr head, and fhed a pearly flood, 



'J'henlaid her down to pcrilh in the cold. 



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