James Shirley 142 An Apology for having loved before Waller 140 Upon my Mistress Dancing. On Aurelia's Blushing The Hue and Cry Ledyard's Praise of Women Stanzas on Woman. C. Leftley, Esq. 142 A. M. Porter 143 Hurdis 144 Barbauld 147 Goldsmith 149 Elegy, describing the Sorrow of an ingenuous Mind on the melancholy event of a Stanzas, on the Death of a Lory, Rev. Wm. The man was clad in a mantle red, 'Twas black and drear; the silent trees The long grass stirred not in the breeze; But the lady bright, on the battlements height, He saw by the burning moon; From her locks so light, and her garments white, The stranger knew her soon, "Ho! Lady Anne, thou must come down; 66 Thy husband sends for thee: By the cross of stone, on the heath alone, "He waits to fly with thee. "For the fight is o'er, and the rebel power, "Hath vanquished its lord; And now his store is nothing more, "But only his good sword.". "Now tell me knight! by a warrior's might, "I charge thee, tell me true! "If from the fight, this fatal night, "My love, unhurt withdrew! "Ah! be my bed, the leaves that are shed, By Autumn's hollow wind, "If on his breast, my head but rest, "The sweetest sleep I'll find." "He waits for thee,"-the knight replied, By the mouldering cross of stone; Thy sleep will be sweet:" the stranger sigh'd"But never sweet alone. "Come, mount thee here; nay do not fear, "Tho' the clouds be gathering fast: "My courser's swift, for his career, "Is like the ocean's blast." They rode o'er hill, they rode o'er vale, And near it lay a comely form, In dusky armour drest He lay in sleep; and the raging storm The warrior slept, and the lady stepped She kiss'd his brow, but the nightly snow With piercing cries she rais'd her eyes, His steed was formed of the foaming surf "Behold your Lord!" the phantom said, "The fight indeed is o'er ; "And under this shade my corse is laid, "But thou must with me; for the shoreless sea "Is given us for our reign; "And Killarney's lake each year shall quake "For its prince and hero slain. "Killarney's hills, and Killarney's caves, "Our lonely dwellings must be, Till this yearly hour, when its shuddering waves, "My airy horse shall see: Then in angry pomp, thro' the waters wide, "In lightning and thunder drest, "Your prince shall ride, while the stormy tide "O'erwhelms his vassal's rest. |