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"O do not, do not, holy Friar,
My sorrow now reprove;

For I have lost the sweetest youth
That e'er won lady's love.

"And now, alas! for thy sad loss
I'll e'ermore weep and sigh;
For thee I only wish'd to live,
For thee I wish to die."

"Weep no more, Lady, weep no more,

Thy sorrow is in vain :

For violets pluck'd, the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow again.

"Our joys as winged dreams do fly,

Why then should sorrow last? Since grief but aggravates thy loss, Grieve not for what is past."

"O say not so, thou holy Friar, I pray thee, say not so;

For since my true-love died for me, 'Tis meet my tears should flow.

"And will he never come again? Will he ne'er come again?

Ah! no; he is dead, and laid in his grave, For ever to remain.


"His cheek was redder than the rose;
The comeliest youth was he!-

But he is dead, and laid in his grave:
Alas, and woe is me!"

"Sigh no more, Lady, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever:

One foot on sea and one on land,
To one thing constant never.

"Hadst thou been fond, he had been false,
And left thee sad and heavy:

For young men e'er were fickle found,
Since summer trees were leafy."

"Now say not so, thou holy Friar, I pray thee say not so;

My love he had the truest heart

O he was ever true!

"And art thou dead, thou much-lov'd youth!

And didst thou die for me?

Then farewell home! for evermore

A pilgrim I will be.

"But first upon my true-love's grave

My weary limbs I'll lay,

And thrice I'll kiss the green-grass turf

That wraps his breathless clay."

"Yet stay, fair Lady, rest a while,

Beneath this cloyster wall:

See, through the hawthorn blows the cold wind, And drizzly rain doth fall."

"O stay me not, thou holy Friar!
O stay me not, I pray!

No drizzly rain that falls on me
Can wash my fault away."

"Yet stay, fair Lady, turn again,
And dry those pearly tears;
For see, beneath this gown of grey
Thy own true love appears.

"Here, forced by grief and hopeless love,

These holy weeds I sought;

And here, amid these lonely walls,

To end my days I thought.

"But haply, for my year of grace

Is not yet pass'd away,

Might I still hope to win thy love,

No longer would I stay."

"Now farewell grief, and welcome joy

Once more unto my heart;

For since I've found thee, lovely youth!
We never more will part."




ERE Saturn's sons were yet disgrac'd,
And heathen gods were all the taste,
Full oft (we read) 'twas Jove's high will
To take the air on Ida's hill.

It chanced, as once with serious ken
He view'd from thence the ways of men,
He saw (and pity touch'd his breast)
The world by three foul fiends possess'd:
Pale Discord there, and Folly vain,
With haggard Vice, upheld their reign.
Then forth he sent his summons high,
And call'd a senate of the sky.
Round as the winged orders press'd,
Jove thus his sacred mind express'd :
66 Say, which of all this shining train
Will Virtue's conflict hard sustain?
For see,
she drooping takes her flight,
While not a god supports her right.”

He paused-when from amidst the sky,

Wit, Innocence, and Harmony,

With one united zeal arose,

The triple tyrants to oppose.

That instant from the realms of day

With generous speed they took their way,

To Britain's isle direct their car,

And enter'd with the evening star.
Beside the road a mansion stood,
Defended by a circling wood:
Hither, disguised, their steps they bend,
In hopes, perchance, to find a friend :
Nor vain their hope; for records say,
Worth ne'er from thence was turn'd away.
They urge the traveller's common chance,
And every piteous plea advance :
The artful tale that Wit had feign'd
Admittance easy soon obtain'd.

The dame who own'd, adorn'd the place; Three blooming daughters added grace. The first, with gentlest manners bless'd And temper sweet, each heart possess'd; Who view'd her, catch'd the tender flame: And soft Amasia was her name.

In sprightly sense and polish'd air,
What maid with Mira might compare?

While Lucia's eyes and Lucia's lyre
Did unresisted love inspire.

Imagine now the table clear,

And mirth in very face appear:
The song, the tale, the jest went round,
The riddle dark, the trick profound;

Thus each admiring and admired,

The hosts and guests at length retired:

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