Excerpt
1 At Palaiseau, there liv’d a maid,In form and features mild;The stings of conscience never prey’d,On this devoted child. 2 She serv’d a wealthy farmer there,An honest soul was he;Her comforts were his only care,And all he wish’d to see. 3 His wife was of another mould,And prematurely smart;Hasty, and rash, with that a scold,Yet still a feeling heart. 4 One summers eve’, her labor done,She sat in pensive plight;Watching the clear declining sun,With rapt’rous delight. 5 ’Twas then, that Blaisot trembling cameAnd sitting by her side;Ventur’d to declare his flame,And ask her for his bride. 6 He told his tale of tender love,Then on her hand he sigh’d!Annette she blush’d, her love to proveAnd with his suit complied. 7 In mutual flame, their bosoms burn,He steals a rapt’rous kiss;When soon old Juliannes return,Distroy’d the lovers bliss. 8 By Farm-house door in wicker cage,A Magpie hung to view;Whose prattling tongue would oft assuage,The melancholy few. 9 Julianne now strict orders made,To clean up all the plate;Annette her orders quick obey’dAnd sought the outer gate. 10 Her Father who was sadly poor,And wander’d heedless were;Just at the moment reach’d the door,In wild, and deep dispair. 11 His wretched form, she knew full well,His voice she knew as soon;Her feelings now what pen can tell,She dropt both fork and spoon. 12 She rush’d distracted to his arms,In extacy of joy;Nor dreamt that scoffs and rude alarmsWould e’er her peace destroy. 13 When at this moment from his hold,The Magpie swiftly flew;He seiz’d the spoon: ah! wretch so bold,And dragg’d it from their view. 14 Swift to the Abbey then he sped,Borne on the buoyant air;Nor ever thought that as he fled,Annette his guilt would bear. Verse 15 Look up my child and view me here,One lost to all his clan;My enemies, alas! are near,To claim a wretched man. 16 Then on his neck the fair one fell,A victim to dispair;He strove her fondness to dispell,Her grief he could not bear. 17 Just at this moment past the door,A wretch to feelings blind;He view’d the guest, and saw him poor,And therefore prov’d unkind. 18 What wretched man is that I seeIn garb so sad and torn?A weary traveller, said she,Who wanders here forlorn. 19 Come hither girl,——come hither lass,Said justice with a smile;Come cheer your spirits with a glass,Each anxious hour beguile. 20 She saw his motive, knew his aim,Her heart was elsewhere plac’d;Her Blaisot’s form, her Blaisot’s name,Was no where to be trac’d. 21 Just at this pause, there enter’d straight,His worships clerk with speed;With papers relative to fate,Or some foul bloody deed. 22 Read this my child, the justice said,And tell me what they say;Judge what she felt; ah! luckless maid,Now think of her dismay. Verse 23 Her Fathers name was couple’d there,With death and sore disgrace;“Desertion” was his crime,—dispairWas written in her face....