As the wood pidgeon cooes without his mate, 30 Henceforth the morn shall dewy forrow shed, And ev❜ning tears upon the grass be spread; The rolling ftreams with watry grief shall flow, 35 And winds shall moan aloud---when loud they blow. Henceforth, as oft as Autumn shall return, The dropping trees, whene'er it rains, shall mourn; The feafon quite fhall ftrip the country's pride, For 'twas in Autumn Blouzelinda dy'd. 40 Where-e'er I gad, I Blouzelind shall view, Woods, dairy, barn, and mows our paffion knew. When I direct my eyes to yonder wood, Fresh rifing forrow curdles in my blood. 45 Thither I've often been the damfel's guide, 51 If by the dairy's hatch I chance to hie, I fhall her goodly countenance espie; 55 For there her goodly countenance I've seen, When in the barn the founding flail I ply, Whenever by yon barley-mow I pass, Before my eyes will trip the tidy lass. 65 I pitch'd the fheaves (oh could I do fo now) 71 75 81 Lament, ye fields, and rueful symptoms show; Henceforth let not the smelling primrose grow; Let weeds, inftead of butter-flow'rs, appear, 85 And meads, instead of daisies, hemlock bear; For cowflips fweet let dandelions spread; For Blouzelinda, blithsome maid, is dead! Lament, ye fwains, and o'er her grave bemoan, And spell ye right this verse upon her ftone: Here Blouzelinda lyes—Alas, alas! Weep, Shepherds-and remember fieb is grass. CRUBBINOL. Albeit thy songs are sweeter to mine ear, Line 84. Pro molli violà, pro purpureo Narcisso Carduus & fpinis furgit paliurus acutis. VIRG. 90. Et tumulum facite, & tumulo fuperaddite carmen. 93. Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta, Quale fopor feffis in gramine: quale per æftum VIRG. 96. Κρέσσον μελπομένω του ακεέμεν ο μέγι— λέχειν. 90 95 THEOC. When Blouzelind expir'd, the weather's bell And with hoarfe croaking warn'd us of her fate; How fhall I, void of tears, her death relate, Mother, quoth fhe, let not the poultry need, And give the goose wherewith to raise her breed ; Be these my fifter's care - and every morn -- Amid the ducklings let her scatter corn; 115 The fickly calf that's hous'd, be sure to tend, There fecretly I've hid my worldly pelf. Be ten the parfon's, for my fermon paid. 120 The reft is yours --- My fpinning-wheel and rake Let Sufan keep for her dear fifter's sake; My new ftraw hat, that's trimly lin❜d with green, Let Peggy wear, for fhe's a damfel clean. 126 My leathern bottle, long in harvests try'd, 130 135 To fhow their love, the neighbours far and near Follow'd with wiftful look the damfel's bier. Sprigg'd rosemary the lads and laffes bore, While difmally the parfon walk'd before. Upon her grave their rosemary they threw, The daifie, butter-flower, and endive blue. After the good man warn'd us from his text, That none could tell whofe turn would be the next; He faid, that heav'n would have her foul no doubt, And spoke the hour-glafs in her praise --- quite out. To her sweet mem'ry flow'ry garlands ftrung, O'er her now empty feat aloft were hung. With wicker rods we fenc'd her tomb around, 145 To ward from man and beast the hallow'd ground; Left her new grave the parfon's cattle raze, For both his horfe and cow the church-yard graze. Now we trudg'd homeward to her mother's farm, To drink new cyder mull'd, with ginger warm. For gaffer Tread-well told us, by the by, Excefive forrow is exceeding dry. 151 |