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THE HAPPY STRANGER.
As I was a-walking one morning in spring,
To hear the birds whistle, & Nightingale sing,
I heard a fair maid she was making her moan.
Saying, I, a poor stranger & far from my own.
I stept up unto her, and made a low gee,
And asked her pardon for making so free;
Saying, I have taken pity on hearing your moan,
As I’m also a stranger, and far from my own.
Her cheeks blush'd like roses & she shed a tear,
And laid, Sir I wonder at meeting you here!
I hope you'll not ill use me in this desart alone,
As I am a poor stranger, and far from my own.
My dear, to ill use you indeed I never will.
My heart’s blood to save you indeed I would spill
I'd strive for to ease & relieve all your moan.
And wish to convey you safeback to your home.
Therefore, my dear jewel, if you would agree,
And if ever you marry, to marry with me;
I Would be your guardian thro' those dasarts unknown.
Until with your parents I’d leave you at home.
Sir, where is your Country. I'd wish for to know ?
And what’s the miſfortunes you did undergo?
That caus'd you to wander so far from your home,
And made us meet strangers in this desart alone.
