If e'er from me thy loved memorial part,
May shame afflict this alienated heart:
Of thee forgetful if I form a song,

My lyre be broken, and untuned my tongue:
My grief be doubled from thy image free,
And mirth a torment unchastised by thee.

Thou hill, whose brow the antique structures grace,
Reared by bold chiefs of Warwick's noble race;
Why, once so loved, whene'er thy bower appears,
O'er my dim eye-ball glance the sudden tears?
How sweet were once thy prospects, fresh and fair
Thy sloping walks and unpolluted air!
How sweet the glooms beneath thy aged trees,
Thy noon-tide shadow; and thy evening breeze !
His image thy forsaken bowers restore;
Thy walks and airy prospects charm no more;
No more the summer in thy glooms allayed,
Thy evening breezes, and thy noon-tide shade.

From other ills, however fortune frowned, Some refuge in the Muse's art I found; Reluctant now I touch the trembling string, Bereft of him who taught me how to sing : And these sad accents, murmured o'er his urn, Betray that absence they attempt to mourn.

2. LUCY AND COLIN.

Of Leinster fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the

grace:

Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream

Reflect so fair a face.

Till luckless love and pining care
Impair'd her rosy hue,

Her coral lip and damask cheeks,
And eyes of glossy blue.

Oh! have you seen a lily pale,

When beating rains descend?
So droop'd the slow-consuming maid,
Her life now near its end.

By Luey warn'd, of flattering swains
Take heed, ye easy fair:

Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye perjur'd swains, beware.

Three times, all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring:

And at her window, shrieking thrice,
The raven flapp'd his wing.

Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
That solemn boding sound;
And thus in dying words, bespoke
The virgins weeping round:
“I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says, I must not stay:
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.

By a false heart and broken vows,
In early youth I die.

Am I to blame, because his bride
Is thrice as rich as I?

Ah, Colin! give not her thy vows;
Vows due to me alone:

Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss,
Nor think him all thy own.

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 corse, ye comrades! bear,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;

He in his wedding-trim so gay,

I in my winding-sheet."

She spoke, she died: her corse was borne,

The bridegroom blithe to meet:

He in his wedding-trim so gay,

She in her winding sheet.

Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?

How were those nuptials kept?

The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead;
And all the village wept.

Confusion, shame, remorse, despair,
At once his bosom swell:

The damps of death bedew'd his brow,
He shook, he groaned, he fell.

From the vain bride (ah! bride no more),
The varying crimson fled,

When stretched before his rival's corse,
She saw her husband dead.

Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains,
One mould with her beneath one sod,
For ever now remains.

Oft at their grave the constant hind
And plighted maid are seen;
With garlands gay, and true-love knots,
They deck the sacred green.
But swain, forsworn, whoe'er thou art,
This hallow'd spot forbear:
Remember Colin's dreadful fate,
And fear to meet him there.

CXXVI. GAY.

1. THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.
Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame.
The child, whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.
'Tis thus in friendship; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare, who in a civil way
Comply'd with ev'ry thing, like GAY,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain.
Her care was, never to offend,
And ev'ry creature was her friend.

As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,

Behind she hears the hunter's cries,

And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round:
Till fainting in the public way,
Half dead with fear she gasping lay.
What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the horse appeared in view!
"Let me," says she, "your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight;
To friendship ev'ry burden's light.

The Horse replied, " Poor honest Puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus.
Be comforted, relief is near;

For all your friends are in the rear."
She next the stately Bull implor'd:
And thus replied the mighty lord.
"Since ev'ry beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may without offence pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hence; a fav'rite cow
Expects me near yon barley-mow;
And when a lady's in the case,
You know, all other things give place.
To leave you thus may seem unkind,
But see the goat is just behind."

The Goat remark'd her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye:
"My back," says he, "may do you harm;
The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."
The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd
His sides a load of wool sustain'd:
Said he was slow, confess'd his fears:
For hounds eat sheep, as well as hares.
She now the trotting Calf address'd,
To save from death a friend distress'd.

"Shall I," says he, " of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler pass'd you by ;
How strong are they! how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence.
Excuse me then; You know my heart,
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu:
For see the hounds are just in view."
2. TRUE LOVE.

No power on earth can e'er divide
The knot which sacred love hath tied;
When parents draw against our mind,
The true love's knot they faster bind.
3. THE FOX.
I like the fox shall grieve,

Whose mate hath left her side;
Whom hounds, from morn to eve,

Chase o'er the country wide.
Where can my lover hide ?

Where cheat the weary pack ?

If love be not his guide,

He never will come back.

4. SWEET WILLIAM'S FAREWELL TO BLACK

EYED SUSAN.

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-ey'd Susan came aboard.
“Oh! where shall I my true-love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
If my sweet William sails among the crew."
William, who high upon the yard

Rock'd with the billow to and fro,
Soon as her well known voice he heard,
He sigh'd and cast his eyes below:

The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.