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“It's Elmerick come from beyond the sea,

“To claim Lady Emmeline's hand.”.

Then down Lord Brooke's grey beard was seen

A stream of tears to pour ;
“Oh! death my daughter's spouse has been
“ These seven long years and more!

“ Remorseful guilt and self-despite

“ Destroy'd that beauteous flower, “ For that her falsehood kill'd a knight;

66 'Twas Arthur of the Bower.

“Sir Arthur gave her his heart to have,

“And he gave her his troth to hold; " And he gave her his ring, fo fair and brave,

6 Was all of the good red gold:

“ And she gave him her word, that only he

• Should kiss her as a bride ; “ And she gave him her oath, that ring should be

“ On her hand the day the died.

« But when she heard of Lord Elmerick's fame,

“ His wealth, and princely state; “ And when she heard, that Lord Elmcrick's name

“ Was praised by low and great,

“ Did vanity full lightly bring

My child to break her oath, " And to you the fent Sir Arthur's ring,

“ And to him fent back his troth.

“Oh! when he heard,
“ That her plighted word
“ His false love meant to break,
“ The youth grew fad,
" And the youth grew mad,
“ And his sword he sprang to take :

“ He fet the point against his side,

“ The hilt against the floor; "I wot, he made a wound fo wide,

“ He never a word spake more.

* And now, too late, my child began

“ Remorseless tears to shed; “ Her heart grew faint, her cheek grew wan,

" And she ficken'd, and took to her bed.

“ The Leech then said,
" And thook his head,
* She ne'er could health recover;
“ Yet long in pain
“ Did the wretch remain,

Sorrowing for her lover.

« And sure 'twas a piteous sight to see,

“ How she prayed to die, but it might not be “ And when the morning bell told three,

“ Still in hollow voice cried the,

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“ There is a thing, there is a thing,

66 Which I fain would have from thee! “ I fain would have thy gay gold ring;

“Oh! warrior give it me!”

Now who than ice was colder then,

And who more pale than snow?
And who was the saddest of all fad men?

Lord Elmerick, I trow!

“ Oh! lead me, lead me to the place

" Where Emmeline's tomb doth stand, « For I must look on that lady's face,

"And touch that lady's hand!"

Then all who heard him, stood aghast,

But not a word was said,
While through the chapel's yard they pass’d,

And up the chancel sped.

They burft the tomb, so fair and sheen,

Where Emmeline's corfe inclosed had been; And lo! on the skeleton's finger fo lean,

Lord Elmerick’s gay gold ring was seen!


Damsels! damsels! mark aright
The doleful tale I sing !
Keep your vows, and heed your plight,
And go to no warrior's tent by night,
To ask for a gay gold ring. *

* I once read in fome Grecian author, whose name I have forgotten, the story which suggested to me the outline of the foregoing ballad. It was, as follows: a young man arriving at the house of a friend, to whose daughter he was betrothed, was informed, that some weeks had passed since death had deprived him of his intended bride. Never having seen her, he foon reconciled himself to her loss, especially as, during his stay at his friend's house, a young lady was kind enough to visit him every night in his chamber, whence Me retired at day-break, al. ways carrying with her fome valuable prefent from her lover. This intercourse continued till accident shewed the young man the picture of his deceased bride, and he recognized, with horror, the features of his nocturnal visitor. The young lady's tomb being opened, he found in it the various presents which his liberality had bestowed on his unknown inamorata.






LORD Ronald was handsome, Lord Ronald was young ;
The green wood he traversed, and gaily he fung;
His bosom was light, and he spurr'd on amain,
When lo! a fair ląss caught his steed by the rein.

She caught by the rein, and the fank on her knee ;

-“ Now ftay thee, Lord Ronald, and listen to me!"She sank on her knee, and her tears ’gan to flow, -“Now ftay thee, Lord Ronald, and pity my woe!"

“ Nay, Janet, fair Janet, I needs must away; “ I speed to my mother, who chides my delay.“Oh! heed not her chiding; though bitter it be,

Thy falsehood and scorn are more bitter to me.”

– Nay,

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