The circumstance of his love, and the melancholy that was produced by his death, are so admirably treated in the following ballad of Shenstone, that Dawson’s story will probably be remembered and regretted when that of the rest of the rebels will be forgotten.
JEMMY DAWSON: A BALLAD.
Come listen to my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts and lovers dear,
Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,
Nor will you blush to shed a tear.
And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid,
Do thou a pensive ear incline;
For canst thou weep at every woe,
And pity every ’plaint, but mine?
Young Dawson was a gallant youth,
A lighter never trod the plain;
And well he loved one charming maid,
And dearly was he loved again.
One tender maid, she loved him dear,
Of gentle blood the damsel came;
And faultless was her beauteous form,
And spotless was her virgin fame.
But curse on parties’ hateful strife,
That led the faithful youth astray!
The day the rebel clans appear’d—
(Oh! had he never seen that day!)
Their colours and their sash he wore,
And in their fatal dress was found;
And now he must that death endure
Which gives the brave the keenest wound.
How pale was then his true-love’s cheek
When Jemmy’s sentence reach’d her ear!
For never yet did Alpine snows
So pale nor yet so chill, appear.
“Yet, might sweet mercy find a place,
And bring relief to Jemmy’s woes,
O George! without a prayer for thee
My orisons should never close.