This Ballad, which appeared in fome of the public news papers in or before the year 1724, came from the pen of David Mallet, Efq; who in the edition of his poems, 3 vols. 1759, informs us that the plan was fuggefted by the four verfes quoted above in pag. 120, which he fuppofed to be the beginning of fome ballad now lost.

"These

"Thefe lines, Jays he, naked of ornament and fimple, as they 86 are, ftruck my fancy; and bringing fresh into my mind an "unhappy adventure much talked of formerly, gave birth "to the following poem, which was written many years ago."

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The two introductory lines (and one or two others elfewhere) had originally more of the ballad fimplicity, viz. "When all was wrapt in dark midnight, "And all were faft asleep, &c.

AWAS at the filent folemn hour,
When night and morning meet;

In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And stood at William's feet.

Her face was like an April morn,

Clad in a wintry cloud:

And clay-cold was her lily hand,

That held her fable fhrowd.

So fhall the fairest face appear,

When youth and years are flown:
Such is the robe that kings must wear,
When death has reft their crown.

Her bloom was like the springing flower,

That fips the filver dew;

The rofe was budded in her cheek,

15

Just opening to the view.

But love had, like the canker worm,
Confum'd her early prime :

The rofe grew pale, and left her cheek;

She dy'd before her time.

"Awake! fhe cry'd, thy true love calls,

"Come from her midnight grave;

"Now let thy pity hear the maid,

20

"Thy love refus'd to save.

"This is the dark and dreary hour,

25

"When injur'd ghosts complain;

"Now yawning graves give up their dead, "To haunt the faithless swain.

"Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,

"Thy pledge, and broken oath:

"And give me back my

maiden vow,

"And give me back my troth.

"Why did you promife love to me,

"And not that promife keep

30

"Why did you fwear mine eyes were bright, 35 "Yet leave those eyes to weep?

"How could you fay my face was fair,

"And yet that face forfake?

"How could you win my virgin heart,

"Yet leave that heart to break ?

40

Why

"Why did you fay my lip was sweet, "And made the scarlet pale?

"And why did I, young witlefs maid, "Believe the flattering tale?

"That face, alas! no more is fair; "These lips no longer red:

"Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,

" And every charm is fled.

45

"The hungry worm my fifter is;

"This winding-sheet I wear :

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"And cold and weary lasts our night,

Till that laft morn appear.

"But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence!

"A long and last adieu!

"Come fee, falfe man, how low the lies,

55

"Who dy'd for love of you."

The lark fung loud; the morning fmil'd,

With beams of rofy red:

Pale William fhook in ev'ry limb,

And raving left his bed.

He hyed him to the fatal place,

Where Margaret's body lay;

And stretch'd him on the grafs-green turf,

That wrapt her breathless clay:

*

And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name,

And thrice he wept full fore:
Then laid his cheek to her cold grave,

And word spake never more.

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** In a late publication, intitled, THE FRIENDS, &c. Lond. 1773, 2 vols. 12mo (in the firft volume), is inserted a copy of the foregoing ballad, with very great variations, which the Editor of that work contends was the original; and that Mallet adopted it for his own and altered it, as bere given. But the fuperior beauty and fimplicity of the prefent copy, gives it fo much more the air of an original, that it will rather be believed that fome tranfcriber altered it from Mallet's, and adapted the lines to his own tafte; than which nothing is more common in popular fongs and ballads.

LUCY

XVII.

AND
AND

COLIN

was written by Thomas Tickel, Efq; the celebrated friend of Mr. Addison, and Editor of his works. He was Jon of a Clergyman in the north of England, had his education at Queen's college, Oxon, was under fecretary to Mr. Addison and Mr. Craggs, when fucceffively fecretaries of fate; and was laftly (in June, 1724) appointed fecretary to the Lords Juftices in Ireland, which place he held till his death in 1740. He acquired Mr. Addifon's patronage by a poem in praife of the opera of Rofamond, written while he was at the University

It is a tradition in Ireland, that this Song was written at Caftletown, in the county of Kildare, at the request of the then Nirs. Conolly-probably on fome event recent in that neighbourhood.

OF