The Lovers to their favourite Tree.

ARGUMENT.

In the Hospital, endowed by an ancestor of Sir Charles Turner, Bart., at Kirkleatham, amongst other natural and artificial curiosities, is a very singular Tree. It had been cut down, and divided into lengths, for the purpose of converting it into firewood, but upon its being split by the woodman's wedge, the heart of the tree turned out round and entire; the outward part, which enclosed it, being about the thickness of four inches. Round the inner hole or heart, which is about a foot in diameter, are several letters, carved in a rude and seemingly irregular manner; but upon a closer observation found to wind round the wood in a spiral form, and the following couplet is plainly legible.

This tree long time witness bear,

Two true-lovers did walk here.

are

There are likewise other letters, which seem to be the initials of the Lovers' names, who appear to have frequented the solitary spot where the tree has grown, to vent the effusions of their mutual passion, and to enjoy the pleasure of each others' conversation, sequestered and unobserved.

LONG the wintry tempest braving, Still this short inscription keep; Still preserve this rude engraving, On thy bark imprinted deep:This tree, long time witness bear, Two true-lovers did walk here.'

By the softest ties united,

Love has bound our souls in one; And, by mutual promise plighted, Waits the nuptial rite alone Thou, a faithful witness bear, Of our plighted promise here.

Tho' our sires would gladly sever
Those firm ties they disallow,
Yet they cannot part us ever-

We will keep our faithful vow,
And in spite of threats severe,

Still will meet each other here.

While the dusky shade concealing, Veils the faultless fraud of love, We from sleepless pillows stealing, Nightly seek the silent grove; And escaped from eyes severe, Dare to meet each other here.

Wealth and titles disregarding
(Idols of their sordid mind,)
Calm content true love rewarding,
In the bliss we wish to find.—
Thou Tree, long time witness bear,
Two such Lovers did walk here.

To our faithful love consenting
(Love unchanged by time or tide,)
Should our haughty sires relenting,
Give the sanction yet deny'd;
'Midst the scenes to memory dear,
Still we oft will wander here.

Then our every wish compleated,
Crown'd by kinder fates at last,
All beneath thy shadow seated,

We will talk of seasons past;
When by night, in silent fear,
We did meet each other here.

On thy yielding bark, engraving
Now in short our tender tale,
Long, time's roughest tempest braving,
Spread thy branches to the gale;

And, for ages, witness bear,

Two True-lovers did walk here.

AWD DAISY,

AN ECLOGUE.

GOORGY AND ROBERT.

GOORGY.

WEEL met, good Robert! saw ye my awd meer?
I've bated her, an hour, i' t' loonin here,
But howsumivver, spite of all my care,
I cannot spy her, nowther heead nor hair,

ROBERT.

Whaw Goorgy, I've to teyl ye dowly news,
Syke as I's varra seer will mak ye muse;
I just this minnit left your poor awd tyke,
Dead as a steean, i' Johnny Dobson's dyke.

GOORGY.

Whoor! what's that Robert? tell us owr ageean, You're joking-or you're mebby been misteean;

ROBERT.

Nay, marry, Goorge, I's seer I can't be wrang, You kno' I've keyn'd aw'd Daisy now se lang. Her bread-ratch'd feeace, and twa white hinder

legs,

Preav'd it was hor, as seer as eggs is eggs.

GOORGY.

Poor thing!-what deead then-had she laid there

lang?

Whor abouts is she?-Robert will

ye gang?

ROBERT.

I car nut, Goorgy, I hant mich to dea,
A good hour's labour, or may-happen twea;
Bud as I nivver like to hing behynd,

When I can dea a kaundness tir a frynd;
An I can help ye, wi my hand or teeam,
I'll help to skin her, or to bring her heeam,

GOORGY.

Thank ye, good Robert?-I can't think, belike, How't poor awd creature's tummled inte t' dike,

ROBERT.

Ye maund, shee'd fun her sen just gaun te dee,
An' see laid down by t'side (as seems to me,)
An' when she felt the pains o' death within,
She'd sick'd, an' struggled, an' se towpled in.

GOORGY.

Meast lickly,-bud—what was she deed outreet, When ye furst gat up; when ye gat t' furst seet?