ELLEN's FATE DESERVES A TEAR

In life's morn a maiden gay, Meek Ellen wander'd light and free: Where pleasure wing'd the shining day, Among the flowery wilds of Dee: In beauty like the vernal scene, Like balmy gales her mind serene: 'Till luckless love her heart oppress'd, And banish'd from her bosom rest. Now she warbles soft and slow, Madrigals of plaintive woe, Hear the tale, in pity hear, Ellen's fate deserves a tear.

A pensive Pilgrim doom'd to stray, Her strains a settl'd grief impart, But still the love-lamenting lay Is soothing to the Mourner's heart; Her songs no more from frenzy flow, Her wildness now is chang'd to woe, Which still delight in tuneful lays, To sing of love and happier days. Now she warbles soft and slow, Madrigals of plaintive woe; Hear the tale, in pity hear, Ellen's fate deserves a tear.