But love had, like the canker-worm, The rose grew pale, and left her cheek; "Awake!" she cry'd, "thy true-love calls, Come from her midnight grave; Now let thy pity hear the maid, "This is the dark and dreary hour, "Bethink thee, William, of thy fault, "Why did you promise love to me, And not that promise keep? Why did you swear mine eyes were bright, Yet leave those eyes to weep? "How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break? "Why did you say my lip was sweet, And why did I, young witless maid, "That face, alas! no more is fair; These lips no longer red; Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death, "The hungry worm my sister is; This winding sheet I wear; And cold and weary lasts our night, 'Till the last morn appear. "But hark! the cock has warn'd me hence! A long and last adieu ! Come see, false man, how low she lies, The lark sung loud; the morning smil'd, With beams of rosy red: Pale William shook in ev'ry limb, He hy'd him to the fatal place, Where Margaret's body lay; And stretch'd him on the grass-green turf, That wrapt her breathless clay. And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name, And thrice he wept full sore; And laid his cheek to her cold grave, And word spake never more. Mallet. ODE TO THE HARP. AWAKE, O Harp! and sooth my soul, Ah! much I need relief: Thy Halcyon sound can pain control, Bright rapture long shall bless thy name, And health, with purple wings, Wrapt in delirium sweet, I dwell For me a Heav'nly charming spell MS. HYMN Composed by Dr. Hawkesworth a month before his death, in 1773, and dictated by him to his wife. IN sleep's serene oblivion laid, At once I see the breaking shade, And drink again the morning light. New born-I bless the waking hour, Oh! guide me through the various maze My doubtful feet are doom'd to tread ; A deeper shade will soon impend, That deeper shade shall fade away, Thy light shall give eternal day! VERSES ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE TRENT, YE clear crystal streams in murmers soft flowing, On whose banks 1 have wander'd to welcome the day, Ere the sun in the east, with radiance mild glowing, Has ting'd the hill top with his all-cheering ray. Enraptur❜d I view the gay prospects returning, Which often in youth's early season I knew ; When accomplish'd my task, and for liberty burning, With what eager delight and wild transport I flew! Alas! since that day, how often in sorrow Has my heart sigh'd for peace in the crowd of the town; Still counting the days, in hopes that to-morrow Would repay all. my cares, and my wishes still crown. Hope lent her fond aid, and induc'd me to wander Long protracted the day that brought the wish'd treasure, |