Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Mary, A Tale.
When the sound of a voice seem' -d to rise on her ear , She paus'd , and she listcn'd , all eager to hear , And her heart panted fearfully now . The wind blew , the hoarse ivy shook over her head ^ * Shelislen'd—nottg ' itclsecould she hear
, The wind ceas'd , her heart sunk in her bosom with dread , For she heard in the ruins distinctly the tread Of footsteps approaching her near . Behind a wide column , half breathless with fear , . _ She crept to conceal herself there :
That instant the moon o ' er a dark cloud shone clear , And she saw in the moonlight too ruffians appear , And between them a corpse did they hear . Then Mary could feel her heart-blood curdled cold ! Again the rough wind hurried by , —
It blew off the hat of the one , and behold Even close to the . feet of poor Marv it roll'd , — She felt , and expected to die . ' Curse the hat ! ' he exclaims , ' nay come on and first hide ' The dead body , ' his comrade replies . She beheld them in safety pass on by her '
<* i ' . [ plied , She seizes the hat , fear her courage sup-And fast thro' the abbey she flies . She ran with wild speed , she rusli'd in at the door , She gaz'd horribly eager around , Then her limbs could support their faint burthen no more , And exhausted and breathless she sunk on the floor , Unableto utter a sound .
Ere yet her pale lips could the story impart , For a moment the hat met her view;— - Her eyes from that object convulsively start , For—oh God wh . it cb / d horror then titrill'd thro' her heart , When the name ofher Richard she knew I Where the old abbey stands , on the-common hard by
, His gibbet is now to he seen . Not far from the road it engages the eve , The trav'ller beholds it , and thinks , wiih a sigh , Of poor Mary the maid of the inn .
Song.
SONG .
SWEET Rosalind ! forbear to chide , Alas ! I can no longer hide Wbatlong my heart would have disclo : , 'd . Had modest Fear not iuterpcs'd . Whene ' er I view thy heav ' nly face , My wond ' ring eyes new beauty trace ;
Song.
My glad'nir . g soul with rapture burns , And love to adorati n turns . Thy ever-blooming cheeks disclose The lily blended with the rose . And Cupid wantons , while he sips ' ¦ ' ¦ The flowing- fragrance on thy , 'ips . Those ringlets that so neatly deck Thy comely faceand graceful neck
, , With those prcpc ; rt : pn'd limbs combine To form thee , fair one ! all divine . Who can resist thy matchless charms ! .-Oh ! take me , clasp me in those arms ! Regale me on thy spicy breast , And lull my ravish'd sou ! to rest .
Occasional Address, Sung By The Children Of The Freemasons' Female Charity, February- 9, 1797.
OCCASIONAL ADDRESS , SUNG BY THE CHILDREN OF THE FREEMASONS' FEMALE CHARITY , FEBRUARY- 9 , 1797 .
f-J ' Jie wiris by a Yoiin ^ i-jrly , iJauiliur of .- ! Fus Mason . The Mubic by Dr . Arncild . 1
A HEN wand ' ring , comfortless and low , In Poverty ' s dark vale of woe , Expos'd to error , want , disease , And vice , more fatal still than these , Your fost ' ringcare our bosomscheer'd , Our infant minds with learning rear'd . cnoiiiis . ' i For you our hands to heav'n we raise ,
Willi grateful hearts , in pray'r and praise . 0 may our bosoms doubly know The joys your lib ' ral acts " bestow ; And long , through years revolving , prove The blessings of Fraternal Love ; That to the heart humane isgiv ' n A foretaste of the bliss of heav'n . " cnonus . For you our hands to heav ' n we raise , With grateful hearts , in pray ' r and praise .
Sonnet.
SONNET .
GO , place the swallow on yon turfy bed , Much will he struggle , but . can never rise ; Go , raise him even » ith the daisy ' s head , And the poortwitt ' i-crlikean arrow flies ! - So , oft' thro' life the man of" pow'rs and worth , Haply the ral ' rer for an infant train , Like Huns must struggle on the bare-wora
earth , While all his efforts to arise are vain ! Yet , should the hand of relative or friend . lust from the surface lift the suffering wight , Soon would the wings of industry extend , Soon would' he rise from anguish to ¦ delight I Gotten , ye Affluent , go , your hands outstretch , ' ¦ And . from Despair's dark verge , ch I raise the woe-worn wretch 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Mary, A Tale.
When the sound of a voice seem' -d to rise on her ear , She paus'd , and she listcn'd , all eager to hear , And her heart panted fearfully now . The wind blew , the hoarse ivy shook over her head ^ * Shelislen'd—nottg ' itclsecould she hear
, The wind ceas'd , her heart sunk in her bosom with dread , For she heard in the ruins distinctly the tread Of footsteps approaching her near . Behind a wide column , half breathless with fear , . _ She crept to conceal herself there :
That instant the moon o ' er a dark cloud shone clear , And she saw in the moonlight too ruffians appear , And between them a corpse did they hear . Then Mary could feel her heart-blood curdled cold ! Again the rough wind hurried by , —
It blew off the hat of the one , and behold Even close to the . feet of poor Marv it roll'd , — She felt , and expected to die . ' Curse the hat ! ' he exclaims , ' nay come on and first hide ' The dead body , ' his comrade replies . She beheld them in safety pass on by her '
<* i ' . [ plied , She seizes the hat , fear her courage sup-And fast thro' the abbey she flies . She ran with wild speed , she rusli'd in at the door , She gaz'd horribly eager around , Then her limbs could support their faint burthen no more , And exhausted and breathless she sunk on the floor , Unableto utter a sound .
Ere yet her pale lips could the story impart , For a moment the hat met her view;— - Her eyes from that object convulsively start , For—oh God wh . it cb / d horror then titrill'd thro' her heart , When the name ofher Richard she knew I Where the old abbey stands , on the-common hard by
, His gibbet is now to he seen . Not far from the road it engages the eve , The trav'ller beholds it , and thinks , wiih a sigh , Of poor Mary the maid of the inn .
Song.
SONG .
SWEET Rosalind ! forbear to chide , Alas ! I can no longer hide Wbatlong my heart would have disclo : , 'd . Had modest Fear not iuterpcs'd . Whene ' er I view thy heav ' nly face , My wond ' ring eyes new beauty trace ;
Song.
My glad'nir . g soul with rapture burns , And love to adorati n turns . Thy ever-blooming cheeks disclose The lily blended with the rose . And Cupid wantons , while he sips ' ¦ ' ¦ The flowing- fragrance on thy , 'ips . Those ringlets that so neatly deck Thy comely faceand graceful neck
, , With those prcpc ; rt : pn'd limbs combine To form thee , fair one ! all divine . Who can resist thy matchless charms ! .-Oh ! take me , clasp me in those arms ! Regale me on thy spicy breast , And lull my ravish'd sou ! to rest .
Occasional Address, Sung By The Children Of The Freemasons' Female Charity, February- 9, 1797.
OCCASIONAL ADDRESS , SUNG BY THE CHILDREN OF THE FREEMASONS' FEMALE CHARITY , FEBRUARY- 9 , 1797 .
f-J ' Jie wiris by a Yoiin ^ i-jrly , iJauiliur of .- ! Fus Mason . The Mubic by Dr . Arncild . 1
A HEN wand ' ring , comfortless and low , In Poverty ' s dark vale of woe , Expos'd to error , want , disease , And vice , more fatal still than these , Your fost ' ringcare our bosomscheer'd , Our infant minds with learning rear'd . cnoiiiis . ' i For you our hands to heav'n we raise ,
Willi grateful hearts , in pray'r and praise . 0 may our bosoms doubly know The joys your lib ' ral acts " bestow ; And long , through years revolving , prove The blessings of Fraternal Love ; That to the heart humane isgiv ' n A foretaste of the bliss of heav'n . " cnonus . For you our hands to heav ' n we raise , With grateful hearts , in pray ' r and praise .
Sonnet.
SONNET .
GO , place the swallow on yon turfy bed , Much will he struggle , but . can never rise ; Go , raise him even » ith the daisy ' s head , And the poortwitt ' i-crlikean arrow flies ! - So , oft' thro' life the man of" pow'rs and worth , Haply the ral ' rer for an infant train , Like Huns must struggle on the bare-wora
earth , While all his efforts to arise are vain ! Yet , should the hand of relative or friend . lust from the surface lift the suffering wight , Soon would the wings of industry extend , Soon would' he rise from anguish to ¦ delight I Gotten , ye Affluent , go , your hands outstretch , ' ¦ And . from Despair's dark verge , ch I raise the woe-worn wretch 1