Most faithless!" he cried..." but the thorns of reflection When I am at rest, shall thy pillow bestrew; 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, 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- 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; away. My parents often tell me, he will return no more, 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— 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. |