Young Lubin was a shepherd boy

Young Lubin was a shepherd boy, Fair Rosalie a rustic maid; They met, they lov'd—each other's joy, Together o'er the hills they stray'd.

Their parents saw, and bless'd their love, Nor wou'd their happiness delay; To-morrow's dawn their bliss should prove, To-morrow be their wedding day.

When as at eve, beside the brook. Where stray'd their flocks, they sat and smil'd, One luckless lamb the current took; 'Twas Rosalie's—she started wild.

Run, Lubin, run, my fav'rite fave: Too fatally the youth obey'd: He ran, he plung'd into the wave, To give the little wanderer aid.

But scarce he guides him to the shore, When faint and sunk, poor Lubin dies; Ah Rosalie! for ever more, In his cold grave thy lover lies.

On that lone bank—Oh! still be seen, Faithful to grief, thou hapless maid; And with sad wreaths of cypress green, For ever sooth thy Lubin's shade.