Eleanor of Exeter

As wand'ring out one summer's morn, Near Exon's peerless stream, I sought fair Eleanor forlorn, And listen'd to her theme. My heart was soon a pris'ner made, Enchanted were my eyes, My ruddy cheeks began to fade, My bosom heav'd with sighs.

But when I heard her Edmund's name, Repeated in each strain, My heart renew'd its wonted flame, My cheeks they flush'd again. The love which modesty forbad, That she should shew to me, The doubts which often made me sad, Were chang'd to exstacy!

I ran and knelt at Ellen's feet, She trembl'd all with fear, And tho' she bid me oft retreat, She did it with a tear. I wip'd the precious gem away, And told how much I lov'd; Her eyes shot forth a vivid ray, While she that love approv'd.

Then ev'ry morn and ev'ry eve, We pass'd an hour divine, Which caus'd full many a swain to grieve, That Eleanor was mine. When I from church, all trim and gay, Led her across the green, Ev'ry swain would whisp'ring say, Would I'd so happy been.