Alas! by Tweed my love did ftray,
For me he fearch'd the banks around;
But, ah! the fad and fatal day,

My love, the pride of swains, was drown'd.
Now droops the willow o'er the ftream,
Pale ftalks his ghost on yonder grove,
Dire fancy paints him in my dream,
Awake, I mourn my hopeless love.

M

Y love was once a bonny lad,

He was

the flower of all his kin; The absence of his bonny face

Has rent my tender heart in twain.

I day nor night find no delight,

In filent tears I ftill complain;
And exclaim 'gainft those my rival foes,

That ha'e ta'en from me my darling fwain.

Despair and anguish fill my breast,
Since I have loft my blooming rofe;
I figh and moan while others rest,
His abfence yields me no repofe.
To feek my love I'll range and rove,
Thro' ev'ry grove and distant plain;
Thus I'll ne'er cease, but spend my days,
T'hear tidings from my darling fwain.

There's nothing ftrange in nature's change,
Since parents fhew fuch cruelty;
They've caus'd my love from me to range,
And knows not to what deftiny.

The pretty kids and tender lambs

May cease to sport upon the plain;

But I'll mourn and lament, in deep discontent,
For the abfence of my darling fwain.

Kind Neptune, let me thee intreat,
To fend a fair and pleasant gale;
Ye dolphins fweet, upon me wait,
And convey me upon your tail.
Heav'ns blefs my voyage with fuccefs,
While croffing of the raging main,
And fend me fafe o'er to that distant shore,
To meet my lovely darling fwain.

All joy and mirth at our return

Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay;
The bells fhall ring, and fweet birds fing,
Το grace and crown our nuptial day.
Thus blefs'd with charms in my love's arms,
My heart once more I will regain ;
Then I'll range no more to a distant shore,
But in love will enjoy my darling fwain.

SONG CXXI.

JOCKY AND JENNY.

Jocky. WHEN Jocky was blefs'd with your love

and your truth,

Not on Tweed's pleasant banks dwelt fo blithfome a youth,

With Jenny I fported it all the day long,

And her name was the burden and joy of my fong, And her name was the burden and joy of my fong.

0

Jenny. Ere Jocky had ceas'd all his kindness to me,
There liv'd in a vale not fo happy a she,
Such pleasures with Jocky his Jenny had known,
That fhe fcorn'd in a cot the fine folks of the town.”

Jocky. Ah! Jocky, what fear now poffeffes thy mind, That Jenny, fo conftant, to Willy's been kind! When dancing fo gay with the nymphs on the plain, She yielded her hand and her heart to the fwain.

Jenny. You falfely upbraid-but remember the day
With Lucy you toy'd it beneath the new hay;
When alone with your Lucy, the shepherds have faid,
You forgot all the vows that to Jenny you made.

Jocky. Believe not, fweet Jenny, my heart ftray'd from thee.

For Lucy the wanton's a maid ftill for me:

From a lafs that's fo true your fond Jocky ne'er rov'd, Nor once could forsake the kind Jenny he lov'd.

Jenny. My heart for young Willy ne'er panted nor figh'd,

For

you of that heart was the joy and the pride. While Tweed's waters glide, fhall your Jenny be true, Nor love, my dear Jocky, a fhepherd like

you.

Jocky. No fhepherd e'er met with so faithful a fair, For kindness no youth can with Jocky compare. We'll love then, and live from fierce jealoufy free, And none on the plain shall be happy as we.

T

THE BASHFUL LOVER.

Set by Mr Hudfon.

HERE lives a fhepherd in the vale,
Tender, conftant, and fincere,

Who dares not tell his tender tale,
Left he offend his charmer's ear:
I cannot, dare not tell his name;
But fay, would you his paffion blame ?

His heart enshrines the cruel fair,
Of all his thoughts the constant theme;
Her lov'd idea triumphs there,
His daily mufe, his nightly dream.
I cannot, dare not, &c.

When in her prefence he appears,
He veils the fecret of his eyes;
More deep refpect his paffion wears,
Than ev'n his charmer can furmife.
I cannot, &c.

Ah! fhould his love itself betray,
And her aufterity offend!
Her cruelty would drive away
At once the lover and the friend.
I cannot, &c.

SONG CXXIII.

STREPHON'S COMPLAINT.

W

HEN Delia on the plain appears,
Aw'd by a thousand tender fears,
I would approach, but dare not move;
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

Whene'er fhe speaks, my ravish'd ear
No other voice than hers can hear;
No other wit but hers approve;
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

If fhe fome other swain commend,
Tho' I was once his strongest friend,
His inftant enemy I prove,
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

When she is abfent, I no more
Delight in all that pleas'd before,
The clearest spring, the fhadieft grove;
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

When fond of pow'r, of beauty vain,
Her nets she spread for ev'ry fwain,
I ftrove to hate, but vainly ftrove;
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

F

OR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An unrelenting foe to love;

And when we meet a mutual heart,
Come in between, and bid us part;
Bid us figh on from day to day,
And wish, and wish the foul away,
Till youth and genial years are flown,
And all the life of life is gone!

But bufy, bufy ftill art thou
To bind the loveless, joylefs vow,
The heart from pleasure to delude,
And join the gentle to the rude.

For

once, O Fortune, hear my pray❜r, And I abfolve thy future care: All other wishes I refign,

Make but the dear Amanda mine.

F

OR the lack of gold fhe's left me,
And of all that's dear bereft me,
She me forfook for a great duke,
And to endless woes fhe's left me.

A ftar and garter have more art
Than youth, a true and faithful heart;
For empty titles we must part,
And for glittering show she's left me.

No cruel fair fhall ever move
My injur❜d heart again to love;