"I hear a voice, you cannot hear, 25
Which says I must not stay:
I see a hand, you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.
"By a false heart, and broken vows,
In early youth I die. 30
Am I to blame, because his bride
Is thrice as rich as I?
"Ah Colin! give not her thy vows;
Vows due to me alone:
Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss, 35
Nor think him all thy own.
"To-morrow in the church to wed,
Impatient, both prepare;
But know, fond maid, and know, false man,
That Lucy will be there, 40
"Then, bear my corse; ye comrades, bear,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He in his wedding-trim so gay,
I in my winding-sheet."
She spoke, she dy'd;—her corse was borne, 45
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He in his wedding-trim so gay,
She in her winding-sheet.
Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?
How were those nuptials kept? 50
The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,
And all the village wept.
Confusion, shame, remorse, despair
At once his bosom swell:
The damps of death bedew'd his brow, 55
He shook, he groan'd, he fell.
From the vain bride (ah bride no more!)
The varying crimson fled,
When, stretch'd before her rival's corse,
She saw her husband dead. 60
Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains,
One mould with her, beneath one sod,
For ever now remains.