Page:Fair maid in bedlam, or, The deceitful Irish boy.pdf/5



S I was a walking one ev’ning in spring,

To hear the birds whistle & nightingale sing,

I heard a fair maid was making great moan,

Saying, I am a poor stranger and far from my own.

I stept up unto her, I made a low gee,

I asked her pardon for making so free,

Saying, I’ve taken pity on hearing your moan,

As I am a stranger, and far from my own.

Her cheeks blush’d like roses and she shed a tear,

And says, Sir, I wonder at meeting you here,

But I hope you’ll not ill use me in this desert alone,

As I am a poor stranger, and far from my own.

My dear to ill use you indeed I ne’er will,

My heart’s blood, to save you indeed I would spill,

I’d strive for to ease and relieve all your moan,

And wish to convey you safe back to your home.

Therefore my dear jewel, if you would agree,

And if ever you marry to marry with me,

I'd be your guardian thro’ these desarts unknown,

Until with your parents I leave you at home.

Sir, where is your country, I wish for to know,

And what’s the misfortunes you did undergo?

That caus’d you to wander so far from your home,

And made us meet strangers in this desart alone.

He says, my sweet fair one, the truth I will tell,

If I was in my own country, near Newry I dwell,

But yet to misfortunes my love I was prone,

Which made many a hero go far from his home.