 | Poems by the author of The Village Curate |  |
63
THE HUE AND CRY.
Oyez, my good people draw near,
My story surpasses belief,
Yet deign for a moment to hear,
And assist me to catch a stray thief.
My story surpasses belief,
Yet deign for a moment to hear,
And assist me to catch a stray thief.
Have you chanc'd a fair damsel to meet,
Adorn'd like an angel of light,
In a robe that flow'd down to her feet,
No snow on the mountain so white.
Adorn'd like an angel of light,
In a robe that flow'd down to her feet,
No snow on the mountain so white.
Silver flowers bespangled her shoe,
Amber locks on her shoulders were spread,
Her waist had a girdle of blue,
And a beaver plum'd hat had her head.
Amber locks on her shoulders were spread,
Her waist had a girdle of blue,
And a beaver plum'd hat had her head.
64
Her steps an impression scarce leave,
She bounds o'er the meadow so soon;
Her smile is like Autumn's clear eve,
And her look as serence as his moon.
She bounds o'er the meadow so soon;
Her smile is like Autumn's clear eve,
And her look as serence as his moon.
She seems to have nothing to blame,
Deceitless and meek as the dove;
But there lives not a thief of such fame,
She has pilfer'd below and above.
Deceitless and meek as the dove;
But there lives not a thief of such fame,
She has pilfer'd below and above.
Her cheek has the blushes of day,
Her neck has undone the swan's wing,
Her breath has the odors of May,
And her eye has the dews of the spring.
Her neck has undone the swan's wing,
Her breath has the odors of May,
And her eye has the dews of the spring.
She has rob'd of its crimson the rose,
She has dar'd the carnation to strip,
The bee who has plunder'd them knows,
And would fain fill his hive at her lip.
She has dar'd the carnation to strip,
The bee who has plunder'd them knows,
And would fain fill his hive at her lip.
65
She has stol'n for her forehead so even
All beauty by sea and by land,
She has all the fine azure of Heaven
In the veins of her temple and hand.
All beauty by sea and by land,
She has all the fine azure of Heaven
In the veins of her temple and hand.
Yes, yes, she has ransack'd above,
She has beggar'd both nature and art,
She has got all we honour and love,
And from me she has pilfer'd my heart.
She has beggar'd both nature and art,
She has got all we honour and love,
And from me she has pilfer'd my heart.
Bring her home, honest friends, bring her home,
And set her down safe at my door,
Let her once my companion become,
And I swear she shall wander no more.
And set her down safe at my door,
Let her once my companion become,
And I swear she shall wander no more.
Bring her home, and I'll give a reward
Whose value can never be told,
More precious than all you regard,
More in worth than a house-full of gold.
Whose value can never be told,
More precious than all you regard,
More in worth than a house-full of gold.
66
A reward such as none but a dunce,
Such as none but a madman would miss,
O yes, I will give you for once
From the charmer you bring me, a kiss.
Such as none but a madman would miss,
O yes, I will give you for once
From the charmer you bring me, a kiss.
| Poems by the author of The Village Curate | |