I 'prentice was to Vulcan, The stars pluck'd from their orbs too, CRAZY JANE. G. M. LEWIS, born 1773, died 1818. WHY, fair maid, in every feature Do my Dost thou weep to see my anguish? None could ever love again; But the youth I loved so dearly Fondly my young heart received him, From that hour has reason never Held her empire o'er my brain : Henry fled with him for ever Now forlorn and broken-hearted, The music was composed by Miss Abrams, a popular English vocalist, who, with her sister Theodosia, first sang in public in 1776 at the Ancient Concerts. THE DISTRACTED MAID. From "Johnson's Musical Museum." Said by the editor of " Johnson's Museum" to have been written by a negro confined in Bethlehem Hospital. ONE morning very early, One morning in the spring, I heard a maid in Bedlam Who mournfully did sing; Her chains she rattled on her hands O, cruel were his parents Who sent my love to sea! That bore my love from me; And I love my love, because I know Oh, should it please the pitying powers I'd claim a guardian angel's charge Around my love to fly; To guard him from all dangers, For I love my love, because I know 264 I'll make a strawy garland, Oh, if I were a little bird All For I love my love, because I know Oh, if I were an eagle To soar into the sky! I'd gaze around with piercing eyes Where I my love might spy; But, ah! unhappy maiden, That love you ne'er shall see: Yet I love my love, because I know My love loves me." Sheridan used the same melody for the air, "Had I a heart for falsehood framed," and Moore also for the air, "The harp that once in Tara's halls." OH, FOR MY TRUE-LOVE. From "The Myrtle and the Vine," 1800. Down by the river there grows a green willow, And all for my true-love, my true-love, oh! Sing all for my true-love, my true-love, oh! Maids, come in pity, when I am departed, Sing, oh! for my true-love, my true-love, oh! When dead on the bank I am found broken-hearted, And all for my true-love, my true-love, oh! Make me a grave, all while the wind's blowing, Close to the stream where my tears once were flowing, And over my corpse keep the green willow growing, 'Tis all for my true-love, my true-love, oh! THE MAD GIRL'S SONG. THOMAS DIBDIN. From "The Last Lays of the Three Dibdins," 1834. Он, take me to your arms, my love, For keen the winds doth blow! She hears me not, she cares not, I once had gold and silver; My wealth is lost, my friend is false, Beneath the willow-tree. UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE; from "As you like it." The music by Dr. ARNE, UNDER the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither! But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun, And loves to lie i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. |