The Bridal bed

THE

Bridal Bed,

AN

OLD BALLAD.

GLASGOW:

Published, and Sold Wholesale and Retail, by
R. Hutchison & Co. 10, Saltmarket.—1817.

THE BRIDAL BED.

It was a maid of low degree
sat on her true love's grave,
And with her tears most piteously
the green turf she did lave;
She strew'd the flower, she pluck'd the weed,
and show'rs of tears she shed;
Sweet turf, she cried, by fate decreed
to be my bridal bed.

I've set thee, flower, for that the flower
of manhood lieth here;
And water'd thee with plenteous shower
of many a briny tear.
And still she cried, Oh stay my love,
my true love, stay for me:
Stay till I've deck'd my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

I pluck'd thee, weed, for that no weed
did in his bosom grow;
But sweetest flowers, from virtue's seed,
did there spontaneous blow:
But ah! their beautecus tints no more
Their balmy fragrance shed;
And I must strew this meaner flow'r,
To deck my bridal bed.

Sweet turf, thy green more green appears,
Tears make thy verdure grow;
Then still I'll water three with my tears;
That thus profusely flow.
Oh stay for me, departed youth,
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deck'd my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

This is the flow'ry wreath he wove,
to deck his bride, dear youth!
And this the ring with which my love
to me did plight his troth;
And this dear ring I was to keep,
and with it to be wed———
But here, alas! I sigh and weep
to deck my bridal bed.

A blythsome knight came riding by,
and, as the bright moon shone,
He saw her on the green turf lie
and heard her piteous moan;
For loud she cried, O stay, my love,
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deck'd my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

O say, he cry'd, fair maiden, say,
what cause doth work thy woe,
That on a cold grave thou dost lay,
And fast thy tears o'erflow?'
Oh! I have cause to weep for woe,
For my true love is dead;
And thus, while fast my tears o'erflow,
I deck my bridal bed.

Be calm, fair maid, the knight replied,
thou art too young to die;
But go with me, and be my bride,
and leave the old to sigh.
But still she cried, Oh ⟨stay⟩ my love,
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deck'd my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

Oh leave, he cry'd, this grief so cold,
and leave this dread despair,
And thou shalt flaunt in robes of gold,
a lady rich and fair.
Thou shalt have halls and castles fair,
and when, sweet maid, we wed,
Oh thou shalt have much costly gear,
to deck thy bridal bed.

Oh hold thy peace, thou cruel knight,
nor urge me to despair;
With thee my troth I will not plight,
⟨for all⟩ thy proffers fair:
But I will die with my own true love—
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

Thy halls and castles I despise,
this turf is all I crave:
For all my hopes and all my joys,
lie buried in this grave:
I want no gold, no costly gear,
now my true love is dead;
But with fading flower and scalding tear
I deck my bridal bed.

⟨Oh!⟩ be my bride, thou weeping fair,
oh! be my bride, I pray;
And I will build a tomb most rare,
where thy true love shall lay:
But still in tears she cry'd, My love,
my true love stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

My love needs not a tomb so rare,
in a green grave we will lie;
Our carved works—these flowerets fair,
Our canopy be sky.
Now go, Sir knight, now go thy ways,
full soon I shall be dead;
And then return in some few days,
and deck my bridal bed.

And strew the flower, and pluck the thorn,
and cleanse the turf I pray,
So may some hand thy turf adorn,
when thou in grave shalt lay.
But stay, oh thou whom dear I love,
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

No, maid, I will not go my ways;
nor leave thee here alone;
Nor, while despair upon thee preys,
neglect thy woeful moan;
But I will stay and share thy woe,
my tears with thine I'll shed;
And help thee pluck the flower, to strew
o'er thy sad bridal bed.

Now from the church came forth the priest,
his midnight chaunt was done,
And much the hapless maid he prest
to cease her piteous moan;
For still she cry'd, O stay my love,
my true love stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

O! kneel with me, he cried, dear maid,
oh kneel in holy prayer;
Haply kind heaven may send thee aid,
and soothe thy dread despair.
I blame not heaven, the maid replied,
but mourn my true love dead;
And on his green grave I will 'bide,
for 'tis my bridal bed.

The hapless maid knelt down, for fear
that holy priest should blame;
But still, with every hallow'd prayer,
she sigh'd her true loves name.
And softly cried, Oh stay my love,
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

Enough, enough, thou sore-tried dear!
the weeping knight exclaim'd;
Enough I've tried thee, matchless fair,
and be the trial blam'd:
I am thy love, thy own true love,
and I am come to wed;
Nor shall this turf thy green grave prove,
nor be thy bridal bed.

I am a knight of noble name,
and thou of low degree;
So, like a shepherd poor I came,
to prove thy constancy.
But still, with woe forlorn, she cried
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

Again, enough, thou sore-tried maid!
the knight in tears exclaim'd;
See at thy feet thy true love laid,
of all his guile asham'd.
Forgive me maid—my love now prove,
and let us instant wed.
And thou with tears of joy, my love,
shall deck thy bridal bed!

And art thou him?—exclaim'd the maid,
and dost thou live?—she cried:
Too cruel love!—she faintly said—
then wrung his hand, and died.
Stay, cried the knight, all woe begone,
now, stay, my love, for me;
Stay, till I've deckt our bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.

In vain the priest, with holy lore,
by turns did soothe and chide;
The knight, distracted, wept full sore,
and on the green turf died.
And underneath (may heaven them save!)
the lovers both were laid,
And thus in truth, the green turf grave
became their bridal bed.

FINIS.