CORIN'S FATE. CORIN, most unhappie swaine, Whither wilt thou drive thy flocke? Little foode is on the plaine; Full of danger is the rocke: Wolfes and beares doe kepe the woodes; Forests tangled are with brakes; Meadowes subject are to floodes; Moores are full of miry lakes. Yet to shunne all plaine, and hill, Forest, moore, and meadow-ground, Hunger will as surely kill: How may then reliefe be found? Such is hapless Corin's fate: Since my waywarde love begunne, Equall doubts begett debate What to seeke, and what to shunne. Spare to speake, and spare to speed; Yet her sight augments my paine. What may then poor Corin doe? Is the lover's sharpest hell. Percy's Reliques. A SONG TO THE LUTE IN MUSICKE. MODERNISED. WHERE griping griefs the heart would wound, There Music, with her silver sound, In joy it makes our mirth abound, In woe it cheers our heavy sprites; Distracted heads relief hath found, By music's pleasant sweet delights: Our senses all, and e'en what more, Are subject unto music's lore. The gods by music have their praise; In seas, whom pirates would destroy, O heav'nly gift, that rules the mind, To comfort man, whom cares would nip! Ibid. JEMMY DAWSON. James Dawson was one of the Manchester rebels, who was hanged, drawn, and quartered, on Kennington Common, July 30, 1746. COME listen to my mournful tale, Ye tender hearts, and lovers dear And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid, ; Young Dawson was a gallant youth, One tender maid she lov'd him dear, But curse on party's hateful strife, Their colours and their sash he wore, How pale was then his true-love's cheek, With fault'ring voice she weeping said, "Yet might sweet mercy find a place, "The gracious prince that gives him life Would crown a never-dying flame, And every tender babe I bore Should learn to lisp the giver's name. "But tho', dear youth! thou should'st be dragg'd To yonder ignominious tree, Thou shalt not want a faithful friend O then her mourning coach was call'd, She had not lov'd her fav'rite more. She follow'd him, prepar'd to view And the last scene of Jemmy's woes With calm and stedfast eye she saw. Distorted was that blooming face, And sever'd was that beauteous neck, |