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

And didft thou die for me?

Then farewel home; for, ever-more

A pilgrim I will be.

Dr. Percy.

But first upon my true love's grave
My weary limbs I'll lay,

And thrice I'll kiss the green-grafs turf,
That wraps his breathlefs clay.

Yet ftay fair lady; reft awhile.

Beneath this cloyfter wall:

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

O ftay me not, thou holy friar;
O ftay me not I pray;

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

Yet ftay, fair lady, turn again,
And dry those pearly tears;
For fee, beneath this gown of gray
Thy own true-love appears.

Here forc'd by grief and hopeless love,
Thefe holy weeds I fought:
And here amid thefe lonely walls
To end my days I thought.

But haply for me my year of grace
Is not yet pafs'd away,

Might I ftill hope to win thy love,

No longer would I stay.

Now farewell grief, and welcome joy

Once more unto my heart;

For fince I have found thee, lovely youth,
We never more will part.

Mirs. Bars bauld.

Mrs. Barbauld.

Vermuthlich sind die Original Pieces, welche Vikin feiner zweiten Ausgabe des Essay on Song -Writing, v. Jahr 1774 beifügte, nicht von ihm selbst, sondern von seiner Schwester, Mistreß Barbauld, so wie die in der ersten Ausgabe unter dieser Rubrik befindlichen von ihr waren, die er in der zweiten seinem Essay selbst einverleibte. Una ter jenen Stücken steht folgende schöne Ballade gleich zuerst; sie war vorher im Gentleman's Magazine abgedruckt worden.

EDWIN AND ETHELINDE.

ONE parting kifs, my ETHELINDE!“
Young EDWIN fault'ring cried,
"I hear thy father's hafty tread,
No longer must I bide.

To-morrow eve in yonder wood,
Beneath the well-known tree,
Say wilt thou meet thy own true love,
Whofe only joy's in thee?"

She clafp'd the dear beloved youth;

And figh'd and dropt a tear;
Whate'er betide, my only love
I'll furely meet thee there."

They kifs, they part; a liftning page
To malice ever bent,

O'erheard their talk, and to his lord
Reveal'd their fond intent.

The baron's brow grew dark with frowns,
And rage diftain'd his cheek,
,,Heavens! fhail a vaffal fhepherd dare
My daughter's love to feek!

But

The dews of evening faft did fall,

And darknefs fpread apace,

When ETHELINDE with beating breaft
Flew to th' appointed place.

With eager eye fhe looks around,
No EDWIN there was feen;
He was not wont to break his faith,
What can his abfence mean!"

Her heart beat thick every at noife,
Each ruftling thro' the wood;
And now the travers'd quick the ground,
And now she liftning stood.

Enlivening hope and chilling fear
By turns her bofom fhare,
And now the calls upon his name,
Now weeps in fad despair.

Mean-time the day's last glimmerings fled,
And blackening all the sky
A hideous tempeft dreadful rofe,
And thunders roll'd on high,

Poor ETHELINDE aghaft, dismay'd,
Beholds with wild affright

The threat'ning fky, the lonely wood,

"

And horrors of the night.

Where art thou now my EDWIN dear!

Thy friendly aid I want;

Ah me! my boding heart foretels,

That aid thou canst not grant."

Thus rack'd with pangs, and beat with ftorms,

Confus'd and loft fhe roves;

Mrs. Bars bauld.

nirs. Bars Now looks to heaven with earnest prayer, Now calls on him fhe loves.

bauld.

At length a diftant taper's ray

Struck beaming on her fight;
Thro' brakes fhe guides her fainting steps
Towards, the welcome light.

An aged hermit peaceful dwelt
In this fequefter'd wild,

Calm goodness fat upon his brow,
His words were foft and mild.

He ope'd his hofpitable door,
And much admiring view'd
The tendre virgin's graceful form,
Dafh'd by the tempeft rude.

Welcome, fair maid, whoe'er thou art,
To this warm fhelter'd cell;

Here reft fecure thy wearied feet,

Here peace and iafety dwell."

He faw the heart-wrung ftarting tear,
And gently fought to know,
With kindeft pity's foothing looks,
The ftory of her woe.

་

Scarce, had fhe told her mournful tale,
When ftruck with dread they hear
Voices confus'd with dying groans,
The cell approaching near.

„Help, father! help," they loudly cry,
,, A wretch here bleeds to death,

Some cordial balfam quickly give
To ftay his parting breath."

All deadly pale they lay him down,

And gafh'd with many a wound;

When, woful fight! 'twas EDWIN's felf

Lay bleeding on the ground.

With frantic grief poor ETHELINDE
Befides his body falls;

Lift up thine eyes, my EDWIN dear,

'Tis ETHELINDE that calls."

That much lov'd found recalls his life,
He lifts his clofing eyes,

Then feebly murmuring out her name
He gafps, he faints, he dies.

Stupid a while, in dumb despair

She gaz'd on EDWIN dead;
Dim grew her eyes, her lips turn'd pale,
And life's warm spirit fled,

Mrs. Bars bauld.