136 Original Poetry. 
And when the foldyers all were bye, 
She tore her raven haire, 
And caft herfelf upon the growne 
In furious defpaire. 
Her mother ran and lyfte her up, 
“And clafped in her arme, 
6¢ My child, my child, what doft thou ail 3 
God fhield thy life from harm !”? 
*¢ O mother, mother! William’s gone! 
What’s all befyde to me? 
There is no mercye, fure, above ! 
All, all were fpar’d but hee !” 
s¢ Kneel downe, thy paterrofter faye, 
*T will calm thy troubled fpright: 
The Lord is wyfe, the Lord is good; 
What hee hath done is right.” 
$6 O mother, mother! fay not fo; 
Moft cruel is my fate: 
I prayde, and prayde ; but watte avayl’d ? 
*Tis now, alas! too late.” 
*€ Our Heavenly Father, if we praye, 
Will help a fuff’ring childe: 
Go take the holy facrament ; 
So fhall thy grief grow milde.” 
6¢ © mother, what I feel within, 
No facrament can ftaye 5 
No facrament can teche the dead 
To bear the fight of daye.” 
_ © May be, among the heathen folk 
Thy William falfe doth prove, 
And puts away his faith and troth, 
And takes another love. 
Then wherefore ‘orrow for his lofs ? 
Thy moans are all in vain: 
And when his foul and body parte, 
His falfehode brings him paine.” 
** O mother, mother! gone is gone: 
My hope is all forlorne ; 
The grave mie onlye fateguarde is— 
O, had I ne’er been borne! 
Go out, go out, my lampe of life; 
In griflie darknefs die: 
There is no mercye, fure, above! 
For ever let me lic.” 
6* Almighty God! O do not judge 
My poor unhappy childe; 
She knows not what her lips pronounce, 
Her anguifh makes her wilde. 
My girl, forget thine earthly woe, 
And think on God and blits ; 
For fo, at leaft, fhall not thy foule 
Its heavenly bridegroom mils.” 
£¢ © mother, mother! what is bliffe, 
And what the fiend is celle ? 
With him ’tis heaven any where, 
Without my William, helle. 
“© Go out, go out, my lamp of life; 
In endlefs darknets die: 
_ Without him I mutt loathe the earth, 
Without him fcerne the fkye.”” 
a 
[March 
And fo defpaire did rave and rage 
Athwarte her boiling veins; 
Againft the Providence of God 
She hurlde her impious itrains. 
She bet her breafte, and wrung her hands, 
And ;ollde her tearlefie eye, _ 
From rife of morne, till the pale ftars 
Again did freeke the fkye. 
When harke! abroade fhe hearde the trampe. ~ 
Of nimble-hoofed {teed ; 
She hearde a knighte with clank alighte, 
And climb the ftaire in fpeede. 
And foon fhe herde a tinkling hande, 
That twirled at the pin; 
And thro’ hex door, that open’d not, 
Thefe words were breathed in. 
‘¢ What ho! what ho! thy dore undee; 
Art watching or afleepe ? 
My love, doft yet remember mee, 
And doft thou laugh or weep ?” 
‘© Ah! William here fo late at night! 
Oh! I have watchte and wak’d : 
Whence doft thou come? For thy return 
My herte has forely ak’d.” 
‘¢ At midnight only we may ride; 
I come o’er land and fea: 
I mounted late, but foone I go; 
Aryfe, and come with me.” 
*¢ O William, enter firft my bowre, 
And give me one embrace: 
The blafts athwarte the hawthorne hifs ; 
Awayte a little fpace.” 
*¢ Tho? blafts athwarte the hawthorn hifs, 
T may not harboure here; 
My {fpurre is fharpe, my courfer pawes, 
My houre of fighte is nere. 
All as thou lyeft upon. thy couch, 
Aryfe, and mount behinde ; 
To-night we’le ride a thoufand miles, 
The bridal bed to finde.” 
“* How, ride to-night a thoufand miles ? 
Thy love thou doft bemocke: 
Eleven is the ftroke that {till 
Riggs on within the clocke.” 
‘¢ Looke up; the moone is bright, and we 
Outftride the earthlie men: 
Ill take thee to the bridal bed, 
And night fhall end but then.” 
«© And where is, then, thy houfe and home; 
And where thy bridal bed ?” 
6 Tis narrow, filent, chilly, dark ; 
Far hence I reft my head.” 
“¢ Andis there any room for mee, 
Wherein that I may creepe ?”* 
é¢ There’s room enough for thee and mee, 
Wherein that we may fleepe. 
All as thou ly’f upon thy couch, 
Aryle, no longer ftop 5 
The wedding guefts thy coming waite, 
_ The chamber dore is ope.” 
Adi. 
