CUPID'S PROMISE. PARAPHRASED FROM THE FRENCH. SOFT Cupid, wanton, amorous boy, Oh! raise thy voice, one song I ask, Touch, then, the' harmonious string; To Thyrsis easy is the task, Who can so sweetly play and sing. Two kisses from my mother dear, Thyrsis, thy due reward shall be; None, none, like Beauty's queen is fair; Paris has vouch'd this truth for me.' 6 I straight replied, Thou know'st, alone, If thou 'lt be kind, and make me bless'd. One kiss from Chloe's lips, no more, But, oh! my Chloe, beauteous maid, Wilt thou the wish'd reward bestow? Wilt thou make good what Love has said, And, by thy grant, his power show? 95 SONGS AND BALLADS. THE THIEF AND CORDELIER. A BALLAD. To the tune of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury.' WHO has e'er been at Paris must needs know the Greve, The fatal retreat of the' unfortunate brave, Where honour and justice most oddly contribute To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet. Derry down, down, hey derry down. There death breaks the shackles which force had put on, [begun ; And the hangman completes what the judge but There the Squire of the Pad and the Knight of [no more cross'd. the Post, Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes Derry down, &c. Great claims are there made, and great secrets are known, [own; And the king, and the law, and the thief, has his But my hearers cry out, What a deuce dost thou Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale.' [ail? Derry down, &c. "Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws, The Squire, whose good grace was to open the scene, Seem'd not in great haste that the show should begin; Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, And often took leave, but was loath to depart. Derry down, &c. What frightens you thus, my good son? (says the priest) You murder'd, are sorry, and have been confess'd.' 'O Father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon, For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was taken.' Derry down, &c. Pugh! pr'y thee ne'er trouble thy head with such fancies; Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis ; If the money you promised be brought to the chest, You have only to die; let the Church do the rest. Derry down, &c. And what will folks say if they see you afraid? It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade: Courage, friend, for to-day is your period of sorrow, And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.' Derry down, &c. To-morrow! (our hero replied, in a fright,) He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of to-night.' Tell your beads, (quoth the priest) and be fairly truss'd up, For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup.' Alas! (quoth the Squire,) howe'er sumptuous the treat, Parbleu, I shall have little stomach to eat; That I would, (quoth the Father) and thank you to boot, But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit: Then turning about to the hangman, he said, Dispatch me, I pr'y thee, this troublesome blade; For thy cord and my cord both equally tie, And we live by the gold for which other men die.' Derry down, &c. IN vain SONG. you tell your parting lover— You wish fair winds may waft him over: Be gentle, and in pity choose 99 |