| |
| COME listen to my mournful tale, | |
| Ye tender hearts, and lovers dear; | |
| Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh, | |
| Nor need you blush to shed a tear. | |
| |
| And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid, | 5 |
| Do thou a pensive ear incline; | |
| For thou canst weep at every woe, | |
| And pity every plaint, but mine. | |
| |
| Young Dawson was a gallant boy, | |
| A brighter never trod the plain; | 10 |
| And well he lov’d one charming maid, | |
| And dearly was he lov’d again. | |
| |
| One tender maid, she lov’d him dear, | |
| Of gentle blood the damsel came, | |
| And faultless was her beauteous form, | 15 |
| And spotless was her virgin fame. | |
| |
| But curse on party’s hateful strife, | |
| That led the faithful youth astray, | |
| The day the rebel clans appear’d— | |
| O had he never seen that day! | 20 |
| |
| Their colours and their sash he wore, | |
| And in the fatal dress was found; | |
| And now he must that death endure, | |
| Which gives the brave the keenest wound. | |
| |
| How pale was then his true love’s cheek | 25 |
| When Jemmy’s sentence reach’d her ear! | |
| For never yet did Alpine snows | |
| So pale, or yet so chill appear. | |
| |
| With faltering voice she, weeping, said, | |
| ‘O Dawson! monarch of my heart, | 30 |
| Think not thy death shall end our loves, | |
| For thou and I will never part. | |
| |
| ‘Yet might sweet mercy find a place, | |
| And bring relief to Jemmy’s woes, | |
| O George! without a prayer for thee, | 35 |
| My orisons should never close. | |
| |
| ‘The gracious prince that gives him life | |
| Would crown a never-dying flame, | |
| And every tender babe I bore | |
| Should learn to lisp the giver’s name. | 40 |
| |
| ‘But though he should be dragg’d in scorn | |
| To yonder ignominious tree, | |
| He shall not want one constant friend | |
| To share the cruel Fate’s decree.’ | |
| |
| O then her mourning coach was call’d; | 45 |
| The sledge mov’d slowly on before; | |
| Tho’ borne in a triumphal car, | |
| She had not lov’d her favourite more. | |
| |
| She follow’d him, prepar’d to view | |
| The terrible behests of law; | 50 |
| And the last scene of Jemmy’s woes | |
| With calm and steadfast eye she saw. | |
| |
| Distorted was that blooming face, | |
| Which she had fondly lov’d so long: | |
| And stifled was that tuneful breath, | 55 |
| Which in her praise had sweetly sung: | |
| |
| And sever’d was that beauteous neck, | |
| Round which her arms had fondly clos’d; | |
| And mangled was that beauteous breast, | |
| On which her love-sick head repos’d: | 60 |
| |
| And ravish’d was that constant heart, | |
| She did to every heart prefer; | |
| For though it could its king forget, | |
| ’Twas true and loyal still to her. | |
| |
| Amid those unrelenting flames | 65 |
| She bore this constant heart to see; | |
| But when ’twas moulder’d into dust, | |
| ‘Yet, yet,’ she cried, ‘I’ll follow thee. | |
| |
| ‘My death, my death alone can show | |
| The pure, and lasting love I bore: | 70 |
| Accept, O heaven! of woes like ours, | |
| And let us, let us weep no more.’ | |
| |
| The dismal scene was o’er and past, | |
| The lover’s mournful hearse retir’d; | |
| The maid drew back her languid head, | 75 |
| And sighing forth his name, expir’d. | |
| |
| Tho’ justice ever must prevail, | |
| The tear my Kitty sheds is due; | |
| For seldom shall she hear a tale | |
| So sad, so tender, yet so true. | 80 |
| |
