« 이전계속 »
< Thus let me hold thee to my heart, "And ev'ry care refign :
"And fhall we never, never part,
"No, never, from this hour to part, "We'll live and love fo true;
"The figh that rends thy conftant heart, "Shall break thy Edwin's too.”
DEATH OF A MAD DOG.*
GOOD people all, of ev'ry sort,
And if you find it wond'rous fhort,
In Ifling-ton there was a man,
Of whom the world might fay, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray.
A kind and gentle heart he had,
And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Both mungrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,
And curs of low degree.
*This, and the following poem, appeared in The Vicar of
Wakefield, which was published in the year 1765.
This dog and man at first were friends;
The dog, to gain fome private ends,
Went mad and bit the man.
Around from all the neighb'ring streets,
The wound it feem'd both fore and fad,
And while they fwore the dog was mad,
But foon a wonder came to light,
WHEN lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray, What charm can foothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away?
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her fhame from ev'ry eye,