DOLLY. A BALLAD

Ingenuous trust, and confidence of Love .’[1] 


1

The Bat began with giddy wing
His circuit round the Shed, the Tree;
And clouds of dancing Gnats to sing
A summer-night’s serenity.

2

Darkness crept slowly o’er the East! 5
Upon the Barn-roof watch’d the Cat;
Sweet breath’d the ruminating Beast
At rest where Dolly musing sat.

3

A simple Maid, who could employ
The silent lapse of Evening mild, 10
And lov’d its solitary joy:
For Dolly was Reflection’s child.

4

He who had pledg’d his word to be
Her life’s dear guardian, far away,
The flow’r of Yeoman Cavalry, 15
Bestrode a Steed with trappings gay.

5

And thus from memory’s treasur’d sweets,
And thus from Love’s pure fount she drew
That peace, which busy care defeats,
And bids our pleasures bloom anew. 20

6

Six weeks of absence have I borne
Since Henry took his fond farewell:
The charms of that delightful morn
My tongue could thus for ever tell.

7

He at my Window whistling loud,25
Arous’d my lightsome heart to go:
Day, conqu’ring climb’d from cloud to cloud;
The fields all wore a purple glow.

8

We stroll’d the bordering flow’rs among:
One hand the Bridle held behind; 30
The other round my waist was flung:
Sure never Youth spoke half so kind!

9

The rising Lark I could but hear;
And jocund seem’d the song to be:
But sweeter sounded in my ear, 35
‘Will Dolly still be true to me!’

10

From the rude Dock my skirt had swept
A fringe of clinging burrs so green;
Like them our hearts still closer crept,
And hook’d a thousand holds unseen. 40

11

High o’er the road each branching bough
Its globes of silent dew had shed;
And on the pure-wash’d sand below
The dimpling drops around had spread.

12

The sweet-brier op’d its pink-ey’d rose, 45
And gave its fragrance to the gale;
Though modest flow’rs may sweets disclose,
More sweet was Henry's earnest tale.

13

He seem’d, methought, on that dear morn,
To pour out all his heart to me;50
As if, the separation borne,
The coming hours would joyless be.

14

A bank rose high beside the way,
And full against the Morning Sun;
Of heav’nly blue there Violets gay 55
His hand invited one by one.

15

The posy with a smile he gave;
I saw his meaning in his eyes:
The wither’d treasure still I have;
My bosom holds the fragrant prize. 60

16

With his last kiss he would have vow’d;
But blessings crouding forc’d their way:
Then mounted he his Courser proud;
His time elaps’d, he could not stay.

17

Then first I felt the parting pang;— 65
Sure the worst pang the Lover feels!
His Horse unruly from me sprang,
The pebbles flew beneath his heels;

18

Then down the road his vigour tried,
His rider gazing, gazing still; 70
My dearest, I’ll be true,’ he cried:—
And, if he lives, I’m sure he will.

19

Then haste, ye hours, haste, Eve and Morn,
Yet strew your blessings round my home:
Ere Winter’s blasts shall strip the thorn 75
My promise’d joy, my love, will come. [2] 

Notes

[1] [Edward Young, Night Thoughts. Night VIII, 307.] BACK

[2] [1st edn, 1st state adds note:] Highly animated, natural, and engaging. C. L.] omitted in 1st edn, 2nd state and later edns BACK