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was written by Thomas Tickel, Efq; the celebra. ted friend of Mr. Addison, and editor of his works. He was fon of a Clergyman in the north of England, had his education at Queen's college Oxon, was under.fecretary to Mr. Addison and Mr. Cragge, when succeffively fecretaries of state ; and was lastly (in June 1724) appointed fecretary to the Lord Juftices in Ireland, which place be held till his death in 1740. He acquired Mr. Addison's patronage by a poem in praise of the opera of Rosamond written while he was at the University.

F Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,

Bright Lucy was the grace ;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream

Reflect so fair a face.


Till luckless love, and pining care,

Impair'd her rofy hue,
Her coral lips, and damask cheek,

And eyes of glofly blue.

Oh ! have you seen a lilly pale,

When beating rains descend?
So droop'd the Now.consuming maid;

Her life now near its end.

By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swains,

Take heed ye easy fair :
Of vengeance due to broken vows

Ye perjur'd (wains beware.

Three times all in the dead of night,

A-bell was heard to ring;
And at her window, shrieking thrice,

The raven Aap'd his wing.

Too well the love-lorn maiden knew,

The solemn boding sound ; And thus in dying words bespoke

The virgins weeping round,

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By a false heart, and broken vows,

" In early youth I die. " Am I to blame, because his bride

6 Is thrice as rich as I ?


Ah Colini give her not thy vows ;

6 Vows due to me alone; « Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss,

" Nor think him all thy own.


“ To-morrow in the Church to wed,

“ Impatient, both prepare ; 6 But know, fond maid, and know, false man

" That Lucy will be there.

" Then bear my corse : ye comrades, bear,

“ The bridegroom blithe to meet ; “ He in his wedding trim so gay,

“ I in my winding sheet."

She spoke, she dy'd-her corse was borne,

The bridegroom blitbe to meet ; He in his wedding trim so gay,

She in her winding sheet.

Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts ?

How were those nuptials kept ;
The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,

And all the village wept.

Confusion, shame, remorse, despair,

At once his bofom swell :
The damps of death bedew'd his brow,

He hook, he groan'd, he fell.

From the vain bride, (ah bride no more)

The varying crimson filed,
When, ftretch'd before her rival's corse,

She saw her husband dead.

Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,

Convey'd by trembling swains,
One mould with her, beneath one fod,

For ever now remains.

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Oft at their grave the conftant hind

And plighted maid are seen ; With garlands gay, and true-love knots,

They deck the sacred green.

But, fwain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,

This hallow'd spot forbear ; Remember Colin's dreadful fate,

And fear to meet him there.

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In a comedy of Fletcher, called The Knight of the burning Peftle, old Merry-Thought enters repeating the following verses :

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When it was grown to dark midnight,

And all were fait asleep,
In came Margaret's grimly ghost,

And stood at Williani's feet.

This was, probably, the beginning of some ballad, commonly known, at the time when that author wrote ; and is all of it, I believe, that is any where to be met with. These lines, naked of ornament and simple as they are, struck my fancy: and, bringing frejh into my mind an unhappy adventure, much talked of formerly, gave birth to the following.poen ; which was written many years ago.

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