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There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie lea,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have he e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar


THE ROSE OF DUNMORE.

As I went a walking out early,
Bright Phœbus most sweetly did shine,
And the nightingale warbled melodious,
As the lusin that falls from the glen.
It’s down thro’ a grove where I walked,
A while to condole in a shade,
On my destiny for to ponder,
It’s there I beheld a sweet maid.

I cast forth my eyes for to view,
And thus unto her I did say,
You fair has my heart ensnared,
How far through the grove dost thou stray?
She answered, sir, I will tell you,
The truth unto you I’ll explore,
Of a matter that lately befel me,
My dwelling lies near Dunmore.

Once I did love a brave hero,
Till my tender heart he did gain,
No mortal ever lov’d dearer,
But now he is ploughing the main,
All under brave Nelson for battle,
And our English Navy so brave,
Where cannons and guns loudly rattle,
Against the proud French on the main.

He says, now my fair, so ensnaring,

Perhaps your true love he is slain,