English poem
BALLAD. (Alas where shall I comfort find)
by Anonymous
Alas where shall I comfort find? My peace is gone, distressed my mind; My heart beats high, I know not why, Poor heart! ah me, ah me! So tender, artless, and so young, I listened to his flatt'ring tongue, Nor did I e'er Suspect a snare From one who went to sea.
For sailors kind and honest are, They injured virtue make their care, One, only one, did e'er depart From that prov'd rule, and he, Ah me! Was born to break my simple heart.
Alas, &c.
When absent from my longing arms, Each hour was fraught with new alarms, Each rising morn beheld my tears, The softest breeze in my fond fears Did the horizon straight deform, And Zephyr grew into a storm: Yet to be cheated of my bliss, And was I then so kind for this?
Alas, &c.
More by Anonymous
- BALLAD. (Abergavney is fine, Aberistwith also)
- BALLAD. (Adieu my gallant sailor, obey thy duty's…)
- BALLAD. (Adieu, adieu, my only life)
- BALLAD. (Ah let not an instant of life…)
- BALLAD. (Alas! the battle's lost and won)
- BALLAD. (An infant defenceless, of succour bereft)
- BALLAD. (And did you hear what sad distaster)
- BALLAD. (And did you not hear of a…)