In a mirtle shade

[To a lovely mirtle bound Blossoms show'ring all around del.] 2 O, how sick & weary I Underneath my mirtle lie, Like to dung upon the ground Underneath my mirtle bound.

1 Why should I be bound to thee O my lovely mirtle tree? Love, free love, cannot be bound To any tree that grows on ground.

3 Oft my mirtle sigh'd in vain To behold my heavy chain Oft [the priest beheld del.] my father saw us sigh, And laugh'd at our simplicity.

So I smote him & his gore Stain'd the roots my mirtle bore. But the time of youth is fled, And grey hairs are on my head.