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BALLADS.

ROSALIND.
High on the hills Lord Heron he dwells,
Rosalind sings on the moors below,
Faint as the sea in its singing shells,
Up to the castle her soft notes go.

Young Lord Heron has left his state,
Donned a doublet of hodden-gray;
Stolen out at the postern-gate,
A silly shepherd, to wander away.

Rosalind keeps the heart of a_child,
Tender and gentle and true is she;
Colin the shepherd is comely add mild,
Tending his flocks by valley and lea.

Never shepherd has whispered before
Words she hears at the close of day:—