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THE ROSE OF DUNMORE.

As I went a walking out early,

Bright Phœbus most sweetly did shine,

And the nightingale warbled melodious,

As the lusin that falls from the glen.

It's down thro' a grove where I walked,

A while to condole in a shade,

On my destiny for to ponder,

It's there I beheld a sweet maid.

I cast forth my eyes for to view,

And thus unto her I did say,

You fair has my heart ensnared,

How far thro' the grove dost thou stray?

She answered, sir, I will tell you,

The truth unto you I'll explore,

Of a matter that lately befel me,

My dwelling lies near Dunmore.

Once I did love a brave hero,

Till my tender heart he did gain,

No mortal ever lov'd dearer,

But now he is ploughing the main,

All under brave Nelson for battle,

And our English Navy so brave,

Where cannons and guns loudly rattle,

Against the proud French on the main.

He says, now my fair, so ensnaring,

Perhaps your true-love he is slain,

As many a man fell a victim,

And fell by the French on the main;

So it might happen with your love.

As it hath done with many before,