II.

SONG TO LOVE.

Sweet was yon note to fancy's ear,
That died upon the gale,

Yet sweeter far, in grove remote,
To breathe the am'rous tale.

The maid, in blushes, owns the truth She labours to conceal,

The panting breast, the averted eyeWhat more can she reveal

Then spare, fond youth, in pity spare, Nor urge your suit again,

Why need her lips that word declare, Which looks have made so plain.

XXI.

JOHN O' BADENYON.

When first I came to be a man
Of twenty years or so,

I thought myself a handsome youth,
And fain the world would know;
In best attire I stepp'd abroad,
With spirits brisk and gay,

And here and there and every where
Was like a morn in May;

No care I had nor fear of want,

But rambled up and down,

And for a beau I might have pass'd

In country or in town;

I still was pleased where'er I went,
And when I was alone,

I tun'd my pipe and pleas'd mysel'
Wi' John o' Badenyon.

Now in the days of youthful prime A mistress I must find,

For love, I heard, gave one an air,
And even improv'd the mind.

On Phillis fair, above the rest,
Kind fortune fix'd my eyes,

Her piercing beauty struck my heart,
And she became my choice;

To Cupid now, with hearty prayer,

I offered many a vow,

And danc'd and sang, and sigh'd and swore,

As other lovers do;

But when at last I breath'd my flame,

I found her cold as stone;

I left the girl, and tun'd my pipe
To John o' Badenyon.

When love had thus my heart beguil'd
With foolish hopes and vain,
To friendship's port I steer'd my course,
And laugh'd at lover's pain;
A friend I got, by lucky chance,
'Twas something like divine,
An honest friend's a precious gift,
And such a gift was mine;
And now, whatever might betide,
A happy man was I,

In any strait I knew to whom

I freely might apply.

A strait soon came-my friend I try'd ;
He heard, and spurn'd my moan;
I hied me home, and tun'd my pipe
To John o' Badenyon.

Methought I should be wiser next,
And would a patriot turn,

Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes,
And cry up parson Horne;
Their manly spirit I admir'd,

And prais'd their noble zeal,

Who had, with flaming tongue and pen,
Maintain❜d the public weal;

But ere a month or two had past,
I found myself betray'd,

'Twas self and party after all,

For all the stir they made.

At last I saw the factious knaves
Insult the very throne,

I curs'd them a', and tun'd my pipe
To John o' Badenyon.

What next to do, I mus'd awhile,
Still hoping to succeed,

I pitch'd on books for company,
And gravely tried to read :

I bought and borrow'd every where,
And studied night and day,

Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote

That happen'd in my way.

Philosophy I now esteem'd

The ornament of youth,

And carefully, through many a page,

I hunted after truth.

A thousand various schemes I tried,
And yet was pleas'd with none,
I threw them by, and tun'd my pipe
To John o' Badenyon,

And now, ye youngsters every where,
That wish to make a show,

Take heed in time, nor fondly hope,

For happiness below;

What you may fancy pleasure here,

Is but an empty name,

And girls, and friends, and books, and so,
You'll find them all the same.
Then be advis'd and warning take

From such a man as me;

I'm neither Pope nor Cardinal

Nor one of high degree;

You'll meet displeasure every where;

Then do as I have done,

Even tune your pipe, and please yourselves,
With John o' Badenyon.

XXII.

MARY OF BUTTERMERE.*

In Buttermere's woods and wilds among,
A floweret blossom'd, and fair it grew ;
Twas pure as the brook that rippl'd along,
Or the pearly drops of the morning dew.

This song refers to the urf et nate. Mary Robins n better kn wn br 4 Mary of Batterti re