He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp, 105 And drave it into the nut-browne bride, That fell deid at his feit. "Now stay for me, dear Annet," he sed, "Now stay, my dear," he cry'd; 110 Then strake the dagger untill his heart, And fell deid by her side. Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa', V. Unfading Beauty. This little beautiful sonnet is reprinted from a small volume of "Poems by Thomas Carew, Esq., one of the gentlemen of the privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his majesty. (Charles I.) Lond. 1640." This elegant and almost-forgotten writer, whose poems have been deservedly revived, died, in the prime of his age, in 1639. In the original follows a third stanza; which, not being of general application, nor of equal merit, I have ventured to omit. The subject of this ballad is sufficiently popular from the modern play which is founded upon it. This was written by George Lillo, a jeweller of London, and first acted about 1730. As for the ballad, it was printed at least as early as the middle of the last century. It is here given from three old printed copies, which exhibit a strange intermixture of Roman and black-letter. It is also collated with another copy in the Ashmole Collection at Oxford, which is thus entitled, "An excellent ballad of George Barnwell, an apprentice of London, who thrice robbed his master and murdered his vncle in Ludlow "The tune is The Merchant. This tragical narrative seems to relate a real fact; but when it hap pened, I have not been able to discover. THE FIRST PART ALL youths of fair Englànd A London lad I was, A merchant's prentice bound; My name George Barnwell; that did spenl My master many a pound. 5 And with a modest grace, "Welcome, sweet Barnwell," then quoth she, "Unto this homely place. 60 "And since I have thee found As good as thy word to be, A homely supper, ere we part, "O pardon me," quoth I, "Fair mistress, I you pray; For why, out of my master's house 65 |