Reliques of Ancient English Poetry consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets, (Chiefly of the Lyric kind.) Together with some few of later Date |
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| XVII. | XVII. MARGARET's GHOST. |
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 | Reliques of Ancient English Poetry |  |
XVII. MARGARET's GHOST.
[_]
This Ballad, which appeared in some of the public newspapers in or before the year 1724, came from the pen of David Mallet, Esq; who in the edition of his poems, 3 vols. 1759, informs us that the plan was suggested by the four verses quoted above in pag. 119, which he supposed to be the beginning of some ballad now lost.
“These lines, says he, naked of ornament and simple, as they are, struck my fancy; and bringing fresh into my mind an unhappy adventure much talked of formerly, gave birth to the following poem, which was written many years ago.”
The two introductory lines (and one or two others elsewhere) had originally more of the ballad simplicity, viz.
“When all was wrapt in dark midnight,
“And all were fast asleep, &c.
“And all were fast asleep, &c.
332
'Twas at the silent solemn hour,
When night and morning meet;
In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.
When night and morning meet;
In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.
Her face was like an April morn,
Clad in a wintry cloud:
And clay-cold was her lily hand,
That held her sable shrowd.
Clad in a wintry cloud:
And clay-cold was her lily hand,
That held her sable shrowd.
So shall the fairest face appear,
When youth and years are flown:
Such is the robe that kings must wear,
When death has reft their crown.
When youth and years are flown:
Such is the robe that kings must wear,
When death has reft their crown.
Her bloom was like the springing flower,
That sips the silver dew;
The rose was budded in her cheek,
Just opening to the view.
That sips the silver dew;
The rose was budded in her cheek,
Just opening to the view.
But love had, like the canker worm,
Consum'd her early prime:
The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;
She dy'd before her time.
Consum'd her early prime:
The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;
She dy'd before her time.
“Awake! she cry'd, thy true love calls,
“Come from her midnight grave;
“Now let thy pity hear the maid,
“Thy love refus'd to save.
“Come from her midnight grave;
“Now let thy pity hear the maid,
“Thy love refus'd to save.
333
“This is the dumb and dreary hour,
“When injur'd ghosts complain;
“Now yawning graves give up their dead,
“To haunt the faithless swain.
“When injur'd ghosts complain;
“Now yawning graves give up their dead,
“To haunt the faithless swain.
“Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,
“Thy pledge, and broken oath:
“And give me back my maiden vow,
“And give me back my troth.
“Thy pledge, and broken oath:
“And give me back my maiden vow,
“And give me back my troth.
“Why did you promise love to me,
“And not that promise keep?
“Why did you swear mine eyes were bright,
“Yet leave those eyes to weep?
“And not that promise keep?
“Why did you swear mine eyes were bright,
“Yet leave those eyes to weep?
“How could you say my face was fair,
“And yet that face forsake?
“How could you win my virgin heart,
“Yet leave that heart to break?
“And yet that face forsake?
“How could you win my virgin heart,
“Yet leave that heart to break?
“Why did you say my lip was sweet,
“And made the scarlet pale?
“And why did I, young witless maid,
“Believe the flattering tale?
“And made the scarlet pale?
“And why did I, young witless maid,
“Believe the flattering tale?
“That face, alas! no more is fair;
“These lips no longer red:
“Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,
“And every charm is fled.
“These lips no longer red:
“Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,
“And every charm is fled.
334
“The hungry worm my sister is;
“This winding-sheet I wear:
“And cold and weary lasts our night,
“Till that last morn appear.
“This winding-sheet I wear:
“And cold and weary lasts our night,
“Till that last morn appear.
“But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence!
“A long and last adieu!
“Come see, false man, how low she lies,
“Who dy'd for love of you.”
“A long and last adieu!
“Come see, false man, how low she lies,
“Who dy'd for love of you.”
The lark sung loud; the morning smil'd,
With beams of rosy red:
Pale William shook in ev'ry limb,
And raving left his bed.
With beams of rosy red:
Pale William shook in ev'ry limb,
And raving left his bed.
He hyed him to the fatal place,
Where Margaret's body lay;
And stretch'd him on the grass-green turf,
That wrapt her breathless clay:
Where Margaret's body lay;
And stretch'd him on the grass-green turf,
That wrapt her breathless clay:
And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name,
And thrice he wept full sore:
Then laid his cheek to her cold grave,
And word spake never more.
And thrice he wept full sore:
Then laid his cheek to her cold grave,
And word spake never more.
| Reliques of Ancient English Poetry | |