Three times all in the dead of night A bell was heard to ring, And shrieking, at her window thrice. Too well the love-lorn maiden knew And thus in dying words bespoke "I hear a voice you cannot hear, I see a hand you cannot see, By a false heart and broken vows In early youth I die: Was I to blame because his bride Was thrice as rich as I? Ah, Colin! give not her thy vows, Vows due to me alone; Nor thou, fond maid! receive his kiss, To-morrow in the church to wed, Impatient both prepare; But know, fond maid! and know, false man! That Lucy will be there. COLIN AND LUCY. Then bear my corse, my comrades! bear, This bridegroom blithe to meet; He in his wedding trim so gay, I in my winding sheet." 297 She spoke; she died. Her corpse was borne The bridegroom blithe to meet; He in his wedding trim so gay, She in her winding sheet. Q Q Then what were perjured Colin's thoughts? How were these nuptials kept? The bridesmen flock'd round Lucy dead, And all the village wept. Confusion, shame, remorse, despair, At once his bosom swell; The damps of death bedew'd his brow; He shook, he groan'd, he fell. From the vain bride, ah! bride no more! The varying crimson fled, When stretch'd before her rival's corpse She saw her husband dead. Then to his Lucy's new-made grave Convey'd by trembling swains, One mould with her, beneath one sod, For ever he remains. Oft at this grave the constant hind And plighted maid are seen; But, swain forsworn! whoe'er thou art, This hallow'd spot forbear; Remember Colin's dreadful fate, And fear to meet him there. HAWKING. From "The Chase." BY WILLIAM SOMERVILLE. [WILLIAM SOMERVILLE was born in the year 1692, at the family seat at Edstone, in Warwickshire. He was educated at Winchester School, and afterwards at New College, Oxford. He passed the chief part of his life at the residence of his ancestors, and occupied himself with the duties of a country magistrate, the active life of a keen sportsman, and the cultivation of his poetic talents. Somerville's "Chase has always been a favourite with lovers of country life, and has often been reprinted.] NEXT will I sing the valiant falcon's fame: With busy pennons and projected beak, Piercing th' opponent clouds: the falcon swift Follows at speed, mounts as he mounts, for hope Gives vigour to her wings. Another soon Strains after to support the bold attack, Perhaps a third. Warm grows the conflict, every nerve 's employ'd; Now through the yielding element they soar In trackless mazes through the troubled sky. Hangs o'er him like a cloud, then aims her blow |