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 party's hateful strife,
That led the faithful youth astray
The day the rebel clans appeared:
Oh had he never seen that day!
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,
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,
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
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.
"But though, dear youth, thou should'st be dragged
To yonder ignominious tree,
Thou shalt not want a faithful friend
To share thy bitter fate with thee.
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