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14
THE RUNAWAY BRIDE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY WILLIAM SMYTH, ESQ.
By William late offended,
I blamed him, I allow, —
And then my anger ended,
And he is angry now.
And I in turn am chided
For what I ne'er design'd ;
And tho' by Love misguided,
Am called myself unkind.
So now when I am nigh him,
My looks must coldness wear $
They tell me, I must fly him,
At market and at fair;
Nor near the thorn tree meet him,
At evening, I suppose,
Nor in the morning greet him,
As by the door he goes :
Nor at the kirk perceive him,
But ponder on my book ;
With downcast eyes deceive him,
Tho' stealing oft a look. —
Alas ! how long must Nature
This cruel war maintain ?
Content in every feature,
While writhes my heart with pain ?
O William, dost thou love me ? —
Oh ! sure I need not fear ;
How, dearest, would it move the*
To see this falling tear!
Too heedless, thoughtless Lover, —
From what thyself must feel
Why canst thou not discover
What Jeanie must conceal.

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