Miss Kitty: A Parody, on Lenora; a Ballad

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Geo. Reid and Company ... sold by them, and the booksellers, 1797 - 29 pages
 

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Page 16 - All in her sarke, as there she lay, Upon his horse she sprung : And with her lily hands so pale About her William clung. And hurry-skurry forth they goe, Unheeding wet or drye ; And horse and rider snort and blowe, And sparkling pebbles flye.
Page 5 - Or dost thou love no more ? He went abroade with Richard's host, The Paynim foes to quell ; But he no word to her had writt, An he were sick or well. With...
Page 12 - At midnight only we may ride ; " I come o'er land and fea ; " I mounted late, but foone I go, " Aryfe, and come with me." — — " O William, enter firft my bowre, " And give me one embrace : «* The blafts athwarte the hawthorne hifs,
Page 8 - O mother, what I feel within, No sacrament can staye; No sacrament can teche the dead To bear the sight of daye.' 'May be, among the heathen folk Thy William false doth prove, And puts away his faith and troth, And takes another love. Then wherefore sorrow for his loss ? Thy moans are all in vain : And when his soul and body parte, His falsehode brings him paine.
Page 14 - And where is, then, thy house and home ; And where thy bridal bed?' ' 'Tis narrow, silent, chilly, dark ; Far hence I rest my head.' ' And is there any room for mee, Wherein that I may creepe ?' There's room enough for thee and mee, Wherein that we may sleepe.
Page 10 - Almighty God ! O do not judge My poor unhappy childe ; She knows not what her lips pronounce, Her anguish makes her wilde. My girl, forget thine earthly woe, And think on God and bliss ; For so, at least, shall not thy soule, Its heavenly bridegroom miss.
Page 6 - Their hehnes bydeckt with oaken boughs, They feeke their long'd-for home. And ev'ry roade and ev'ry lane Was full of old and young, To gaze at the rejoicing band, To hail with gladfome toung.
Page 10 - Go out, go out, my lampe of life, In grislie darkness die : There is no mercye, sure, above ! For ever let me lie...
Page 10 - May be, among the heathen folk ... . Thy William falfe doth prove, And puts away his faith and troth. And takes another love. Then wherefore forrow for his lofs ? Thy moans are all in vain : And when his foul and body parte. His falfehode brings him paine.
Page 8 - Our Heavenly Father, if we praye, Will help a suff'ring childe : Go take the holy sacrament; So shall thy grief grow milde.

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