Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch (1823)/Maria

MARIA.

'Twas near a thicket's calm re‘reat,
Under a poplar tree,
Maria chose her lonely seat,
To mourn her sorrows free.
Her lovely form was sweet to view
As dawn at opening day;
But, ah! she mourn'd her love not true,
And wept her cares away.

The brook flow'd gently at her feet,
In murmurs smooth along;
Her pipe, which once she tun’d so sweet,
Had now forgot its song.
No more to charm the vale she tries,
For grief has fill'd her breast;
Fled are the joys she us'd to prize,
And fled with them her rest.

Poor hepless maid! who can behold
Thy anguish so severe,
Or hear thy love-lorn story told,
Without a pitying tear!
Maria, hapless maid, adieu!
Thy sorrows soon must cease;
Soon heaven will take a maid so true
To everlasting peace.

FINIS.