Page:Emigrant (2).pdf/7

 " Elſe ſoon, too ſoon, your hapleſs fate ſhall be,

" Like me to ſuffer, to depart like me.

" On your dear native land, from wheneewhence [sic] I part,

" Reſt the beſt bleſſing of a broken heart.

" If in ſome future hour, the foe ſhould land

" His hoſtile legions on Britannia's ſtrand,

" May ſhe not then th' alarum found in vain,

" Nor miſs her baniſhed thouſands on the plain.

" Feed on, my ſheep, for though depriv'd of me,

" My cruel foes ſhall your protectors be,

" For their own ſakes, ſhall pen your ſtraggling flocks,

" And ſave your lambkins from the rav'ning fox.

" Feed on, my goats, another now ſhall drain

" Your ſtreams that heal diſeaſe and ſoften pain;

" No ſtreams, alas! can ever, ever flow,

" To heal your maſter's heart, or ſoothe his woe.

" Feed on, my flocks, ye harmleſs people, feed,

" The worſt that ye can ſuffer is to bleed.

" O! that the murderer's ſteel were all my fear!

" How fondly would I ſtay to periſh here-

" But, hark! My ſons loud call me from the vale,

" And, lo! the veſſel ſpreads the ſwelling ſail.

" Farewel! Farewel!"-A while his hands he wrung,

And o'er his cook in ſpeechleſs ſorrow hung,

Then caſting many a ling'ring look behind,

Down the ſteep mountain's brow began to wind.