Condemn'd in fight a hapless end to meet, While — angry Monmouth's tears were seen to flow, Her once much-lov'd, and dear, delightful home, Small hope of Emma's forfeit life could yield, And bade, with fighs, a wretched world farewell. Burft from her train, and fought the Severn's fide; Ev'n there, where once the young Sabrina brave Peifh'd, indignant, in the foaming wave; With ftreaming eyes and agonizing woe, Her fhade afcending from the angry flood, Till in the clouds fhe met her lover's form, And with him foar'd to heav'n, amid the bellowing storm, And still the ruftics to their fons relate, The difmal ftory of fair Emma's fate, As oft as" in long winter nights" they tell, How Monmouth fought, how gallant Percy fell. J. H. ALLEN. ON ALLEN AND ELLA, A FRAGMENT.† N the banks of that crystalline stream Fair A furreptitious copy of this appeared (agreeable to the date below) under the names of COLIN and LUCY: and, at a time when all modern productions were decryed, this piece, by means of the following preface, met with an approbation which otherwife, no doubt, it would have failed of. To the READER. The MS. bears date (anno 1609), at Eaft-Sheene in Surry, the then bright refidence of a maiden queen, and her royal court. Who the perfonages were, concealed under the fimple characters of ALLEN and ELLA, does not rightly appear; but, as lady of the noble family of Hungerford is recorded to have drowned herself much about that period, 'tis more than probable it gave birth to the above fo affecting tale; and the reader is left to judge, how far the productions of that refined age would have exceeded those of the prefent, had more of them been, fortu nately, preferved. It is hoped, that time has not so injured other pieces, as to pre vent their being presented to the public hereafter. What parts of this were unintelligible, are only gueffed at: for the editor, as he would not dare the adding to, chofe alfo, not to diminish from, fo valuable a FRAGMENT. Richmond, May 1, 1755. Fair Ella! of all the gay throng The fairest that nature had seen, Now drew ev'ry village along, From the day fhe firft danc'd on the green. Ah! boaft not of beauty's fond pow'r, His affection each fwain now, behold, Or wealth, when compar'd to his love? Yes, Allen, together we'll wield In winter I'll winnow the wheat, As it falls from thy flail on the ground: That flail will be mufic as fweet, When thy voice in the labour is drown'd. How oft wou'd he speak of his blifs! Ev'ry promise and vow that he laid. But, But, hark! o'er the grafs-level land, Sad Ella, too foon, heard the tale, That he broke his fond promife for gold. As the walk'd by the margin so green, How oft' fhe was languishing feen! How oft' wou'd fhe gaze on the tide ! By the clear river, then, as fhe fate, And the green turf ftill pillow'd her head. There, there! is it Ella I fee? Like me, she has forrow'd and wept, Moft likely the village of Petersham. I come, In the original (much damaged in this particular place) it feems to be: "Which be.ringes that fweet river's fide." |