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The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot]

... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes

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BALLADE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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116

BALLADE.

Couldst thou looke into myne harte,
Thou wouldst see a mansion drear;
Some old haunted tower aparte,
Where the spectre bands appear:
Sighing, gliding, ghostly forms,
'Mid the ruin shook by storms.
Yet my harte, whiche Love doth slighte,
Was a palace passing fair;
Which did hold thyne image bright,
Thee the queen of beauty rare;
Which the laughing Pleasures fill'd,
And fair Fortune's sunne did gild.
When shall my poor harte, alas,
Pleasure's palace be againe?
That, sweete mayde, may come to pass,
When thou ceasest thy disdaine:
For thy smiles, like beams of day,
Banish spectre forms away.