Six excellent songs (1)/The rover's bride

THE ROVER’S BRIDE.

Oh if you love me, furl your sails,
⁠Draw up your boat on shore;
Come tell me tales of midnight gales.
⁠But tempt their might no more:—
Oh stay, Kate whisper’d, stay with me,
⁠Fear not, the Rover cried,
Yon bark shall be a prize for thee.
⁠I’ll seize it for my bride.

The boat was in pursuit—it flew,
⁠The full sails bent the mast,
Poor Kate well knew the Rover’s crew
⁠Would struggle to the last.
And ceaselessly for morning’s light
⁠She pray’d upon her knees,
For all the night the sounds of fight
⁠Were borne upon the breeze.

When morning came, it brought despair,
⁠The Rover’s boat was gone,
Kate rent her hair, one bark was there.
⁠Triumphant, but alone.
She sought the shore, she brav’d the storm,
⁠A corpse lay by her side,
She strove to warm the Rover’s form,
⁠Then kiss’d his lips, and died.