Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Charms of melody, or, Siren medley

THE CHARMS OF MELODY.
119
The Birth of May.
WHEN rural lads and laffes gay,
Proclaim'd the birth of rofy May,
When round the may-pole, on the green.
The rullic dancers all are feen ;
'Twas there young Jockey met my view.
His like before 1 never knew ;
He pip'd fo fweet, and danc'd fo gay,
Alas I he danc'd my heart away.
At eve, when cakes and ale went round,
He plac'd him next me on the grotind.
With harmlefs mirth, and pleafing jeft,
He fhone more bright than all the reft;
He talk'd of love, and prefs'd my hand.
Ah I who could fuch a youth withftand?
Well pleas'd I heard what he could fay ,;
Alas 1 he Hole my heart away.
He often heav'd a tender figh,
While rapture fparkled In his eye ;
So winning was his grace and air.
He might the coldeft heart enfnare :
But when he aflr'd me for his bride,
I promis'd foon, and foon comply'd :
What nymph on earth could fay hinrnay ?
Alas! he ftole my heart away.
A^
Amo, Amas.
MO, amas,
I love a lafs,
As a cedar tall and (lender.
Sweet cowflips grace
Is her nominati've cafe.
And fhe's ot the Jimim/ie gender,
Rorum corum,
Sunt divorum,
Harum fcarum divo :
Tag, rag, merry derry', perriwig and hat-band,
His, hoc, h:rum, gaiitivo.
Can I decline,
A nymph devine ?
..Her voice as a.iiute is dukit.
Her occtilus bright,
Her mantis white,
And foft, when I taffo her pxilfe is.
Rorum corum, &c.
O how belU,
My paella :
I'll kifs h.er ficu' a fecahrum :
If I've luck, fir,
She's my uxor,
dies henediilonim.
■O'Kecfe.
Rorum coram, isfc.
Bleft as th' immortal Gods is he.
BLEST as th' immortal gods is he,
The youth who fondly fits by thee.
And hears and fees thee, all the while,
Softly fpeak, and fweetly fraile.
'Twas this deprlv'd my foul of reft.
And rals'd fuch tumults in my breaft ; .
For while I gaz'd, in tranfport toft.
My breath was gone, my voice was loft.
My bofom glow'd, a fubtle flame
Ran quick thro' all my vital frame ;
O'er my dim eyes a darknefs hung.
My ears with hollow murmurs rung.
In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd.
My blood with gentle horror thriU'd,
My feeble pulfe forgot to play ;
I fainted, funk, and dy'd away.
<0
o
Sir James the Rofs.
AN OLD BArLAD.
F all the Scottifli Northern chiefs.
Of his high warlike name.
The braveft was Sir James the Rofs,
A knight of meikle fame.
His growth was as the tufted fir
That crowns the mountain's brow.
And waving o'er his Ihoulders broad.
His locks of yellow flew.
The chieftain of the brave clan Rofs,
A firm undaunted band;
Five hundred warriors drew the fword
Beneath his high command.
In bloody fight thrice had he flood
Againft the Englifh keen,
Ere two-and-twenty op'ning fprings
This blooming youth had feen.
The fair Matilda dear Tie lov'd,
A maid of beauty rair,
Even Marg'ret on the Scottifii throne
Was never half fo fair,
Lang had he woo'd, lang flie refus'd.
With feeming fcorn and pride ;
Yet aft her eyes confefs'd the love
Her fearful words deny'd.
At laft {he blefs'd his well-try'd faith.
Allow 'd his tender claim ;
She vow'd to him her virgin heart, •
And own 'd an equal flame.
Her father, Buchan's cruel lord.
Their paflion difapprov'd,
And bade her wed Sir John the Graham^
And leave the youth {he lov'd.
At night they metas they were wont.
Deep in a fliady wood.
Where on the bank befide the burn,
A blooming faugh- tree ftood.
Conceai'd among the underwood
The crafty Donald lay.
The brother of Sir John the Graham,
To hear what they would fay.
When thus the maid began :— " My fire
" Your paflTion difapproves,
" And bids me wed Sir John the Graham,
" So here muft end our loves !
" My father's will muft be obey'd,
" Nought boots me to withftand ;
" Some fairer maid in beauty's blooRi
" Shall blefs thee with her hand.
" Matilda foon fliall be forgot,
" And from thy mind defac'd ;
" Eut may that happinefs be thine ••
" Which I can never tafte".
" What do I hear ? Is this thy vow ?"
Sir James the Pofs reply 'd,
" And will Matilda wed the Graham,
" Tho' fworn to be my bride ?
" His fword fhall fooner pierce my heart
" Than reave me of thy charms I"
Then clafp'd her to his beating breaft,
Faft lock'd within her arms.
" I fpeak to try thy love," fhe faid,
" I'll ne'er wed man but thee ;
" The grave fhall be my bridal bed,
" Ere Graham my huftaand be.
" Take then, dear youth, this faithful tifs,'
" In witnefs of my troth,
" And every plague become my lot,
" That day I break my oath."
The