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THE HAPPY STRANGER.
AS I was walking one morning in ſpring,
To hear the birds whiſtle & nightingale ſing,
I heard a fair maid and ſhe was making her moan,
Saying, I am a poor ſtranger and far from my own.
I ſtept up unto her, and made a low gee,
And aſked her pardon for making ſo free,
Saying, I have taken pity on hearing you moan,
As I am a ſtranger, and far from my own.
Her cheeks bluſh'd like roſes and ſhe ſhed a tear,
And ſays, Sir, I wonder at meeting you here,
But I hope you'll not ill uſe me in this deſart alones
As I am a poor ſtranger, and far from my own.
My dear to ill uſe you indeed I ne'er will,
My heart's blood to ſave you indeed I would ſpill,
I'd drive for to eaſe and relieve all your moan,
And wiſh to convey you ſafe back to your home.
Therefore my dear jewel, if you would agree,
And if ever you marry to marry with me,
I'd be your guardian thro' thoſe deſarts unknown,
Until with your parents I'd leave you at home.
Sir, where is your country, I'd with for to know,
And what's the misfortunes you did undergo?
That caus'd you to wander ſo far from your home,
And made us meet ſtrangers in this deſart alone.
He ſays, my ſweet fair one the truth I will tell,
If I was in my own country neat Newry I dwell,
But yet to misfortunes my love I was prone,
Which made many a hero go far from his home.
