Mirth and Metre consisting of Poems, Serious, Humorous, and Satirical; Songs, Sonnets, Ballads & Bagatelles. Written by C. Dibdin, Jun |
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4
ELLEN;
OR, THE FAIR INSANE.
“Gentle stranger! hast thou, pray,
Seen my Bertram in thy way?
Past the hour he mark'd to meet—
Seldom Love has tardy feet.
Seen my Bertram in thy way?
Past the hour he mark'd to meet—
Seldom Love has tardy feet.
“Would, O would the youth were here!
Yet 'twill wrong his faith, to fear;
O, he's true; vain fears, be gone!
Bertram will be here anon.
Yet 'twill wrong his faith, to fear;
O, he's true; vain fears, be gone!
Bertram will be here anon.
“Then we'll trip to yonder grove—
There he told me first his love;
And, when there, with kisses sweet,
He'll the charming tale repeat!
There he told me first his love;
And, when there, with kisses sweet,
He'll the charming tale repeat!
“Fifty ways his fondness show;
Braid my locks, and bind my brow:
Cull me flow'rs, or blythely play
Many a pretty roundelay.
Braid my locks, and bind my brow:
Cull me flow'rs, or blythely play
Many a pretty roundelay.
“See this chaplet! this he wove—
Ah! how long delays my love!
Know'st thou, stranger, where he strays?
Can'st thou tell me why he stays?
Ah! how long delays my love!
Know'st thou, stranger, where he strays?
Can'st thou tell me why he stays?
“He comes not—ah! I wish in vain—
Stranger, he'll not come again!
Dead, and gone, my Bertram's laid,
Where Ellen, too, must rest her head!—
Stranger, he'll not come again!
Dead, and gone, my Bertram's laid,
Where Ellen, too, must rest her head!—
5
“Red, last night, the moon appear'd;
Twice the nightbird's scream I heard:
Thro' the grove, the nightingale
Told a sad, sad, piteous tale!
Twice the nightbird's scream I heard:
Thro' the grove, the nightingale
Told a sad, sad, piteous tale!
“Yes—I saw my true love there!
With no flow'rs he deck'd my hair—
Wherefore could his fondness fail?—
Told me not one tender tale.
With no flow'rs he deck'd my hair—
Wherefore could his fondness fail?—
Told me not one tender tale.
“He ne'er gave me kisses sweet,
Nor even found kind word to greet!
But he wistful look'd, and wan;
Beckon'd me, and quick was gone!—
Nor even found kind word to greet!
But he wistful look'd, and wan;
Beckon'd me, and quick was gone!—
“Mark! the wreath he made is dead,
Ev'ry flow'ret hangs its head:
But, tho' dead, to me 'tis dear—
Stranger, tell me, why that tear?
Ev'ry flow'ret hangs its head:
But, tho' dead, to me 'tis dear—
Stranger, tell me, why that tear?
“Is thy true love lost, like mine?
Come, I'll mingle tears with thine—
Ah! no—with grief, this long, long day,
Stranger, I've wept them all away!
Come, I'll mingle tears with thine—
Ah! no—with grief, this long, long day,
Stranger, I've wept them all away!
“Have my sorrows giv'n thee pain?—
Soon 'twill all be well again!
Spring reblooms, tho' winter blight;
Day succeeds the longest night.
Soon 'twill all be well again!
Spring reblooms, tho' winter blight;
Day succeeds the longest night.
“Pitiest thou my hapless lot?—
Pity now availeth not!
Envy's arts possess'd the youth,
Ellen had betray'd his truth.
Pity now availeth not!
Envy's arts possess'd the youth,
Ellen had betray'd his truth.
“Oh, I saw the deadly cup?
Why would Bertram drink all up!
None to leave me, was unkind—
Yet, I will not stay behind.
Why would Bertram drink all up!
None to leave me, was unkind—
Yet, I will not stay behind.
6
“If thou chance my knell to hear,
Stranger, kindly place my bier
Where my love—I faint—I'm spent—
Oh!—my heart—indeed, 'tis rent!
Stranger, kindly place my bier
Where my love—I faint—I'm spent—
Oh!—my heart—indeed, 'tis rent!
“—Hist!—heard'st thou my love cry, “Come?”
Yes! 'tis he, he calls me home!
“Haste!” he says—“I come,” she cried;
Then, wildly gazing, Ellen died!
Yes! 'tis he, he calls me home!
“Haste!” he says—“I come,” she cried;
Then, wildly gazing, Ellen died!
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