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She saw him through the chequer'd shade— She mark'd the rapture in his eye—She saw a lovely stranger maid, That smil'd, and gave him sigh for sigh.
She heard him all his vows repeat; Quick throbb'd her heart—she heard no moreBut swiftly turn'd her trembling feet, And sought the river's fatal shore.
"Gavin!" she cried—he caught the word; Echo return'd the desp'rate cry—But, ah! too late false Gavin heard, He only came to see her die.
Stretch'd on the river's brink she lay; An aged shepherd rais'd her head,And sadly shook his tresses grey, And sorrow'd o'er the dying maid.
Her fading eye was dim with death, Her drenched ringlets loosely flow,And short and quick the parting breath Upheav'd her bosom's virgin snow.
He would have spoke—but conscious guilt And wild remorse his bosom wrung;And more than death the traitor felt As o'er the injur'd maid he hung.
