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Music from the West. 213 |
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The gentleman having observed the lady, afterwards approaches her :
I guessed her not Venus, Minerva, or Helen,
Calypso, Eucarius,17 or fair Eurydioe, Ber chess appeared rural, as there she sat viewing
A meand'ring brook that most rapidly glides. My spirits recruiting, I approached with confusion,
And gently saluted this seraphic fair. She said, 'Sir, pass by me, and don't tantalise me,
For by love I'm destined to repine in these shades.'
He goes on, not rebuffed :
' Are you Sylvia or Pandora, sage Pallas or Flora,
Hibernia or Scotia; or what is your name?
Or are you famed Juno, or bright shining Luna,
Or are you a human of Adam's great race?'
To whom the lady, as follows: —
With mild condescension, and smiles on each feature,
She said, 'Sir, be seated in these lonely green bowers, As 1 am no <Jeitij, but a plain country maiden
That sallied forth early to gather some flowers; These copious plantations and bounties of Ceres
Have so pre-engaged me at this hour of day, That 1 roved out more careless, led on by Dame Nature,
So excuse the frailties of a dear Irish maid.'
The rhyme and the reason of this lyric (there are three verses of it) are noteworthy, as illustrating the characteristic national confusion which has had much to do with national music.
The fact of a people so overflowing with fun and humour and repartee being dead to the absurdity of such bothered Arcadian minstrelsy as the above, 17 Sic—Ed. |
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