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, 5
Do thou a pensive ear incline;
For thou canst weep at every woe,
And pity every plaint, but mine.
Young Dawson was a gallant youth,
A brighter never trod the plain; 10
And well he lov'd one charming maid,
And dearly was he lov'd again.
One tender maid she lov'd him dear,
Of gentle blood the damsel came,
And faultless was her beauteous form, 15
And spotless was her virgin fame.
But curse on party's hateful strife,
That led the faithful youth astray
The day the rebel clans appear'd:
O had he never seen that day! 20
Their colours and their sash he wore,
And in the 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, 25
When Jemmy's sentence reach'd her ear!
For never yet did Alpine snows
So pale, nor yet so chill appear.
With faltering voice she weeping said,
Oh Dawson, monarch of my heart, 30
Think not thy death shall end our loves,
For thou and I will never part.
Yet might sweet mercy find a place,
And bring relief to Jemmy's woes,
O George, without a prayer for thee 35
My orisons should never close.
The gracious prince that gives him life
Would crown a never-dying flame,
And every tender babe I bore
Should learn to lisp the giver's name. 40