The book of British ballads . IIP. While thine shall fly direct and sure,This buckler every blow repel; This casque from wounds that face secure,Where all the loves and graces dwell. This glittering scarf, with tenderest care,My hands in happier moments wove ; Cursed be the wretch, whose sword shall tearThe spell-bound work of wedded love ! Lo! on thy falchion keen and bright,I shed a trembling consorts tears ; Oh! when their traces meet thy sight,Remember wretched Evas fears! Think how thy lips she fondly pressed, Think how she wept—compelled to part; Think, every wound which scars thy breast
The book of British ballads . IIP. While thine shall fly direct and sure,This buckler every blow repel; This casque from wounds that face secure,Where all the loves and graces dwell. This glittering scarf, with tenderest care,My hands in happier moments wove ; Cursed be the wretch, whose sword shall tearThe spell-bound work of wedded love ! Lo! on thy falchion keen and bright,I shed a trembling consorts tears ; Oh! when their traces meet thy sight,Remember wretched Evas fears! Think how thy lips she fondly pressed, Think how she wept—compelled to part; Think, every wound which scars thy breast,Is doubly marked on Evas heart!— O thou! my mistress, wife, and friend!—Thus Agilthorn with sighs began; Thy fond complaints my bosom rend,Thy tears my fainting soul unman: In pity cease, my gentle dame, Such sweetness and such grief to join ! Lest I forget the voice of Fame, And only list to Loves and thine. Flow, flow, my tears, unbounded gush ! Rise, rise, my sobs, I set ye free :Bleed, bleed, my heart! I need not blush
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, bookidg, bookpublisherlondonjhow
