Page:Prophecies of Thomas the Rhymer, the ancient Scotch prophet (2).pdf/22

Tells how a neighbour lad came o'er the moor,
To do some errands, and convoy her home,
The cautious Mother marks the conscious flame.
Sparkle in Jenny's eye, and flush her cheek;
With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name,
While Jenny hesitates afraid to speak;
Well-pleas'd the Mother hears, it's no wild worthless rake.

With kindly welcome, Jenny brings him in;
A comely youth: her joy the Mother shews;
Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta,en;
The Father talks of horses, fields, and cows,
The Youngster's artless heart o'erflow with joy,
But dash'd and bashful scarce can well behave.
The Mother, with a woman's wiles can spy,
What makes, the Youth so bashful and so grave;
Well-pleas'd to think her Child such suitor's like to have,

O happy Love! where Love like this is found!
O heart-felt pleasure! bliss beyond compare!
I've paced mnch this weary, mortal round,
And sage Experience, bids me thus declare.—
'If Earth a draught, of true delight can share,
One cordial in this melancholy Yale,
'Tis when a Youthful, loving, modest Pair,
With hearts sincere breathe out the tender tale,
Walking o'er fragrant fields that scent the ev'ning gale.'

Is there in human form, that bears a heart—
A Wretch! a Villain! lost to love and truth!
That can, with studied' sly, ensnaring art,
Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth!
Woe to his perjur'd arts! dissembling, smoth!
Are Honour, Virtue, Conscience, all exil'd?