The Suicide

And did you see in yonder vale,
A corpse entomb'd, when night began.
Then you shall hear a mournful tale
It was the corpse of beauteous ANNE,
Poor injur'd mourner beauteous ANNE.

Ah once that lovely maid to see,
Each village Swain delighted ran,
And once she look'd so full of glee,
We always call'd her smiling ANNE,
Sweet playful beauty smiling ANNE.

Yet tho' we told her men betray'd
False HENRY could her heart trepan,
And soon we saw her beauty fade
And ceas'd to call her smiling ANNE!
O! how she sorrow'd wretched ANNE.

But when we heard her whole sad tale,
To shun her e'en her friends began,
Then desp'rate made she sought yon vale,
And in that stream plung'd frantic ANNE!
There lay self-murder'd, hapless ANNE.

Yet still when Evening's gentle breath,
The willow o'er her grave shall fan,
We'll seek the spot, lament her death,
And breathe a pray'r, for guilty ANNE!
O! Heav'n forgive thee, guilty ANNE!