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Most faithless!" he cried..." but the thorns of reflection

When I am at rest, shall thy pillow bestrew;
A mother will greet me with smiles of affection-
I fly to her bosom...base female adieu !"
He flew to the cottage with fond expectation;
But roofless and void was the dear habitation-
No parent was there...all was dark desolation-
Where oft he had slumber'd the rank nettle grew,

A swain passing by, the sad story related,

How Mary, the victim of sorrow had pin'd; How oft the lov'd name of her son she repeated,

When dotage arose on the wreck of her mind : How oft his return she would welcome with gladnessThen movingly pour forth the wailings of sadness; But death brought a calm to the tempest of madnessHer William she blest, and her being resign'd.

"Then fled is the dream of delight I have cherish'd," The sailor exclaim'd, while a tear dimm'd his eye, "Oh! why was I sav'd when my dear messmates perish'd ? How happy their lot! peace and rest they enjoy : Yet, yet let me live, tho' forlorn, and a stranger, My country is injur'd, this arm shall avenge her ; Adieu, hallow'd

spot ! I will rush into danger→

My heart's dearest wish is in battle to die!”

THE SAILOR'S MISTRESS.

TUNE-"Owen.”

How sweet from yonder mountain the limpid streamlets flow,
How pleasant in yon valley the pale primroses blow!
How sweet the sylvan songsters hail each returning day!
But nothing gives me pleasure, since William sail'd away.

At eve, my young companions frisk gaily o'er the plain, While I, in some lone arbour, lament my absent swain ;

It rends my heart asunder, to see them sport and play-
I think on our sad parting, when William sail'd away.

If to the glen I wander, where oft I met my dear, Those scenes which once gave pleasure, now force the scalding tear;

There first he spoke his passion, as in the shade we lay— That spot my tears have water'd, since William sail'd away.

When from yon heath-clad mountain, I view the distant main,

Each tender recollection renews my mental pain;
While on its wavy bosom, my tearful eyes survey,
The course his ship was steering, when William sail'd

away.

My parents often tell me, he will return no more,
They say he's fall'n a victim to India's deadly shore ;
If so, forlorn I'll wander, and mourn that woeful day,
When on the trackless ocean young William sail'd away.

THE SOLDIER'S MISTRESS.

TUNE-"Wauking o' the fauld."

WHEN peace serenely smiling,.

Our fertile island blest,

No grief I knew-my cares were few—
No grief I knew-the moments flew→→

But peace no longer smiling,

Reigns o'er the verdant plain,

Rude war's alarms have from my arms

Allur'd my youthful swain !

The fragrant hawthorn blossom

Perfumes the morning breeze,

The small birds sing-the flow'rets spring

The small birds sing the vallies ring

But summer's fairest blossoms

Display their sweets in vain,

Deep fraught with woe, no joy I know,

Since I have lost my swain !

'Twas on yon hill we parted

Perhaps to meet no more,

My heavy sighs-my streaming eyes

My heavy sighs-my sobs and cries,

Too plain foretold we parted

And ne'er should meet again,

If Edwin's dead all joy is fled

"Till death I'll mourn my swain.

But as the seaman sinking

On some weak stay depends,

Kind hope appears, to calm my fears

Kind hope appears, to wipe my tears

To save my heart from sinking,

And soothe me from my pain;

My prayers may move the pow'rs above

To give me back my swain.

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