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Ballade.

And who was fo readye as lord Thomas,
To lett faire Ellinor in,

Is this your bride, faire Ellinor fayd?
Methinks the looks wonderous browne;
Thou mighteft have had as faire a woman,
As ever trod on the grounde,

Defpife her not, fair Ellin he fayd,
Defpife her not unto mee;
For better I love thy little finger,
Then all her whole bodèe.

This browne bride had a little penknife,
That was both long and sharpe,

And betwixt the fhort ribs and the long
She prickd faire Ellinor's harte.

O Chrift thee fave, lord Thomas hee fayd,
Methinks thou lookft wonderous wan;
Thou ufedft to look with as fresh a colour,
As ever the fun fhone on.

Oh, art thou blind, lord Thomas? he fayd,
Or canst thou not very well fee?

Oh! doft thou not fee my own hearts bloode
Run trickling down my nee.

Lord Thomas he had word by his fide;

As he walked about the halle,

He cut off his brides head from her shoulders,
And threw it against the walle.

He fet the hilte against the grounde,
And the point against his harte.

There never three lovers together did meete,
That fooner againe did parte.

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Eine der schönsten neuern Balladen, von dem berühmē ten Freunde Addison's, und seinem Mitarbeiter am Zus schauer, Thomas Tickel, geb. 1686, geft. 1740. von dem man, ausser vermischten Originalgedichten, eine poetische Uebersehung des ersten Buchs der Iliade, und des vierten Gesanges der Lukanischen Pharsalía hat. Mein Versuch einer Uebersetzung dieser Ballade steht in des Herrn Urs sinus Sammlung, S. 112; gern aber überlasse ich der Herderischen den Preis, in den Volksliedern, B. 1, S. 100, wo sie zugleich etwas abgeändert und dem einfachen alten Balladenton nåher gebracht ist.

LUCY AND COLIN.

Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Not e'er did Liffy's limpid ftream
Reflect fo fair a face.

Till luckless love, and pining care
Impair'd her rofy hue,

Her coral lip, and damafk cheek,
And eyes of gloffy blue.

Oh! have you feen a lily pale,

When beating rains defcend?
So droop'd the flow - confuming maid;
Her life now near its end.

By Lucy warn'd, of flattering fwains
Take heed, ye eafy fair:

Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye perjured fwains beware.

Three times, all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring;

And

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Vows due to me alone:

,,Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kifs, „Nor think him all thy own.

To-morrow in the church to wed, ,,Impatient both prepare;

But know, fond maid, and know, falfe man,
"That Lucy will be there.

"Then, bear my corfe, ye comrades, bear
,,The bridegroom blithe to meet;
„He in his wedding - trim fo gay,
"I in my winding -fheet."

She fpoke, fhe dy❜d; her corfe was borne,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;

He in his wedding - trim fo gay

She in her winding-fheet.

Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?
How were thofe nuptials kept?

The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,
And all the village wept.

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Tickell.

Confufion, fhame, remorse, despair
At once his bofom fwell:

The damps of death bedew'd his brow,
He fhook, he groan'd, he fell.

From the vain bride (ah bride no more!)

The varying crimson fled,

When, ftretch' before her rival's corfe,
She faw her husband dead.

Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling fwains,
One mould with her, beneath one fod
For ever now remains.

Oft at their grave the conftant hind
And plighted maid are feen;
With garlands gay, and true-love knots
They deck the facred green.

But, fwain forfworn, whoe'er thou art,
This hallow'd spot forbear;
Remember Colin's dreadful fate,
And fear to meet him there,

Mallet.

Mallet.

Mallet.

S. B. I. S. 78. — Sie erschien schon um das Jahr 1724 zuerst, und hernach in Maller's Gedichten, mit folgender Aenderung der beiden Anfangszeilen:

'Twas at the filent folemn hour

When night and morning meet;

wodurch freilich der Reim der zweiten und vierten Zeile bez richtigt, aber, wie Dr. Percy bemerkt, die Einfachheit des Balladentons vermindert wird. Auch stimmt die ältere Leseart mehr mit den Versen in Fletcher's Knight of the burning peftle überein, wodurch dieses schöne Stück eis gentlich veranlasst wurde. S. Reliques, Vol. III. p. 119; und eben daselbst S. 127 ff. ein sehr schönes Gegenstück, die alte schottische Ballade, Sweet William's Ghost. Beide stehen auch in der Sammlung des Herrn Ursinus, S. 94 und 102, diese mit der herderischen Uebersehung, (f Volkslieder, B. II. S. 183;) und jene, hier abgedruckte, mit der meinigen, die ehedem im Göttingischen Musens almanach v. J. 1772 stand.

MARGARET'S GHOST.

When all was wrapt in dark midnight
And all were faft afleep,

In glided MARGARET's grimly ghoft
And ftood at WILLIAM's feet,

Her face was like an April mørn,
Clad in a wintry cloud,

And clay-cold was her lily hand,
That held her fable fhroud.

So fhall the fairest face appear,

When youth and years are flown; Such is the robe that kings muft wear When death has reft their crown, 25

Her

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