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VII.

This is the dumb and dreary hour,
When injur d ghosts complain;
When yawning graves give up their dead,
To haunt the faithlefs fwain...

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Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,
Thy pledge and broken oath :

And give me back my maiden-vow
And give me back my troth.

IX.

1

Why did you promife love to me,
And not that promise keep?
Why did you fwear my eyes were bright,
Yet leave thofe eyes to weep?

X.

How could you fay my face was fair,
And yet that face forfake?

How could you win my virgin heart,

Yet leave that heart to break?

XI.

Why did you fay my lip was sweet,
And made the fcarlet pale?
And why did I, young witlefs maid!
Believe the flattering tale?

XII.

That face, alas! no more is fair;

Thofe lips no longer red:

Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,

And every charm is fled.

XIII.

The hungry worm my fifter is ; ́
This winding fheet I wear:
And cold and weary lafts our night,
Till that last morn appear.

XIV.

But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence ;

A long and late adieu !

Come, fee, falfe man, how low the lies,

Who dy'd for love of you.

XV.

The lark fung loud; the morning fmil'd,

With beams of rofy red :

Pale William quak'd in every limb,
And raving left his bed.

XVI.

He hy'd him to the fatal place,
Where Margaret's body lay:
And stretch'd him on the green grass turf,
That wrap'd her breathless clay.

XVII.

And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name,

And thrice he wept full fore:

Then laid his cheek to her cold grave,

And word fpoke never more!

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On the publication of this ballad, in the year 1760, Mr. Mallet fubjoined an atteftation of the truth of the facts related in it, which we shall give the reader literally :

Extract of a letter from the curate of Bowes in Yorkfhire, on the fubject of the preceding poem, to Mr. Copperthwaite at Marrick.

66

"Worthy fir,

"As to the affair mentioned in yours; it happened long "before my time. I have therefore been obliged to confult my clerk, and another perfon in the neighbourhood for "the truth of that melancholy event. The hiftory of it is ་་ as follows:

"The family-name of the young man was Wrightson; of the young maiden Řailton. They were both much of "the fame age; that is growing up to twenty In their "birth was no disparity; but in fortune, alas! She was

"his inferior. His father, a hard old man, who had by

his toil acquired a handfome competency, expected and re"quired that his fon fhould marry fuitably. But, as amor "vincit omnia, his heart was unaiterably fixed on the "pretty young creature already named. Their courtship, "which was all by stealth, unknown to the family, con"tinued about a year. When it was found out, old Wright"fon, bis wife, and particularly their crooked daughter "Hannah, flouted at the maiden, and treated her with "notable contempt for they held it as a maxim, and a "ruflic one it is, that blood was nothing without groats.

:

"The young lover fickened, and took to his bed about "Shrove-tuesday, and died the Sunday sevennight after.

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"On the last day of his illness, he defired to fee his mif trefs: he was civily received by the mother, who bid "her welcome-when it was too late. But her daughter "Hannah lay at his back to cut them off from all oppor"tunity of exchanging their thoughts.

At her return home, on hearing the bell to toll out for his departure, she screamed aloud that her heart was burst, and expired fome moments after.

"The then curate of* Bowes inferted it in his register, "that they both died of love, and were buried in the fame 66 grave, March 15, 1714. . I am,

"Dear fir,

Yours, &i.

* Bowes is a small village in Yorkshire, where in former ages the earls of Richmond had a caftle. It ftands on the edge of that vaft and mountanious tract, named by the neighbouring people Stanemore; which is always exposed to wind and weather, desolate and solitary throughout. Camd. Brit.

FAR in the windings of a vale,

Faft by a fheltering wood,

The fafe retreat of Health and Peace,
An humble cottage food.

There beauteous Emma flourish'd fair,
Beneath a mother's eye;
Whofe only with on earth was now
To fee her bleft, and die.

The fofteft blush that nature spreads
Gave colour to her cheek:

Such orient colour smiles thro' heaven
When May's fweet mornings break.

Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn
This charmer of the plains:
That fun who bids their diamond blaze,
To paint our lilly deigns.

Long had the fill'd each youth with love,
Each maiden with despair;
And tho' by all a wonder own'd,
Yet knew not flie was fair.

Till Edwin came, the pride of fwains,
A foul that knew no art;
And from whofe eye, ferenely mild,
Shone forth the feeling heart.

A mutual flame was quickly caught;
Was quickly too reveal'd:

For neither bofom lodg'd a wifh,

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That virtue keeps conceal'd.

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