The Unfortunate shepherdess/The bewildered maid

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THE BEWILDER'D MAID.

⟨SLOW⟩ broke the light and sweet breath'd the more,
⟨When⟩ a maiden I saw ⟨sitting under a thorn,⟩
Her dark hair hung loose on her bare neck of snow
⁠Her eyes look'd bewilder'd her cheek pale ⟨with⟩ woe.

Oh, whence is thy sorrow sweet maiden said I,
⁠The green grave will answer, she said with a sigh:
The merry lark so sweetly did sing o'er head,
⁠But she thought on ker woes, and the battle she said.

The breeze murmur'd by, when she look'd up forlorn,
⁠Hark! hark! didst thou hear-twas the sigh ⟨of⟩ the morn,
They say that in battle my love met his death,
⁠But ah! 'twas the hawthorn that robb'd his ⟨sweet⟩ breath.

Come here, gentle Robin, live safe from the storm
⁠In my bosom now sing, there my true-love lies warm;
Ah! Robin, be constant, my true love was brave,
⁠Sweet Robin shall sit, and sing over his grave.