---

Amelia Opie - Ballad
Work rating: Low

Round youthful Henry`s restless bed
His weeping friends and parents pressed;
But she who raised his languid head
He loved far more than all the rest.

Fond mutual love their bosoms fired;
And nearly dawned their bridal day,
When every hope at once expired,
For Henry on his death-bed lay.

The fatal truth the sufferer read
In weeping Lucy`s downcast eye:
"And must I, must I, then," he said,
"Ere thou art mine, my Lucy, die!

"No,…deign to grant my last, last prayer;
`T would soothe thy lover`s parting breath,
Wouldst thou with me to church repair,
Ere yet I feel the stroke of death.

"For trust me, love, I shall my life
With something like to joy resign,
If I but once may call thee wife,
And, dying, claim and hail thee mine."

He ceased: and Lucy checked the thought
That he might at the altar die,….
The prayer with such true love was fraught,
How could she such a prayer deny?

They reached the church….her cheek was wan
With chilling fears of coming woe….
But triumph when the rites began
Lent Henry`s cheek a flattering glow.

The nuptial knot was scarcely tied,
When Henry`s eye strange lustre fired,
"She`s mine! she`s mine!" he faltering cried,
And in that throb of joy expired.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.