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And near them they beheld a child,

Upon a crag he stood,
A little crag, and all around

Was spread the rising flood.

The boatman plied the oar, the boat

Approach'd his resting place ;
The moon-beam shone upon the child,

And show'd how pale his face.

“ Now reach thine hand !" the boatman cried,

« Lord William reach and save !" The child stretch'd forth his little hands

To grasp the hand he gave.

Then William shriek’d; the hand he touch'd

Was cold and damp and dead ! He felt young Edmund in his arms

A heavier weight than lead.

The boat sunk down, the murderer sunk

Beneath the avenging stream;
He rose, he shriek’d, no human ear
Heard William's drowning scream.

1798.

THE CROSS ROADS.

The circumstance related in the following Ballad happened about the year 1760, in a village adjacent to BRISTOL. A person who was present at the funeral told me the story and the particulars of the interment, as I have versified them.

THERE was an old man breaking stones

To mend the turnpike way;
He sate him down beside a brook,
And out his bread and cheese he took,

For now it was mid-day.

He leant his back against a post,

His feet the brook ran by ;
And there were water-cresses growing,
And pleasant was the water's flowing,

For he was hot and dry.

A soldier with his knapsack on

Came travelling o'er the down ; The sun was strong and he was tired; And he of the old man enquired

“ How far to Bristol town ?"

“ Half an hour's walk for a young man,

By lanes and fields and stiles ; But you the foot-path do not know, And if along the road you go

Why then 'tis three good miles.”

The soldier took his knapsack off,

For he was hot and dry; And out his bread and cheese he took, And he sat down beside the brook

To dine in company.

« Old friend! in faith," the soldier says,

“ I envy you almost ; My shoulders have been sorely prest, And I should like to sit and rest

My back against that post.

“ In such a sweltering day as this

A knapsack is the devil !
And if on t'other side I sat, .
It would not only spoil our chat,

But make me seem uncivil."

The old man laugh’d and moved ...“ I wish

It were a great-arm'd chair!
But this may help a man at need:..
And yet it was a cursed deed

That ever brought it there.

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