BALLAD. (And did you hear what sad distaster)

And did you hear what sad distaster Poor Peg of Mapledown befel? For love that stoutest hearts can master. Alas! that those who love so well,

In sorrow's train Should mourn in vain: Her story does such grief impel, That woe is me the while I tell.

She loved a youth of honest kindred; At church behold the happy pair; And ask what 'twas their bliss that hindred, For he was young, and she was fair:

Accurs'd be wars, And party jars, Why must the handsome danger share? Alas! it fills me with despair.

Onward to his liege lord's dwelling A rebel rout had cut their way; What shrieks ensued! and what a yelling! For he a true man must away;

He swore the fight Would end ere night, And he'd return with garlands gay, Sweet trophies for his wedding day.

Night came, and saw the youth returning; Accursed be war's destructive knife; She ran to clasp, with passion burning, Her wedded lord—deprived of life!

Oh! cruel spight! What! not one night, Is not her tale with misery rife? At once a maiden and a wife.