The sky-lark - National Library of Scotland

28 THE SKY-LARK,
*&"**&*t&^&~*&*
O, Nanny, canst thou love so true,
Through perils keen with me to go,
Or when thy swain mishap shall know,
To share with him the pang of woe 1
And when invading pains befall,
Wilt thou assume the nurse's care,
Nor, wishful, those gay scenes recal,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair ?
And when at last thy love shall die,
Wilt thou receive his parting breath,
Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh,
And cheer with smiles the bed of death ?
And wilt thou, o'er his much lov'd clay,
Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear ?
Nor then regret those scenes so gay,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair ?
CATCH.
Look, neighbours, look, here lies poor Thomas Day,
dead, and turned to clay
Does he? sure! what young Thomas? what old
Thomas? what old Thomas ? lack, lack a-day !
Poor soul!—no, no!—aye, aye!—aye, aye, aye !
!