These lyrics were found in The Myrtle and Vine, Vol. 2, by C. H. Wilson (London: West and Hughes, 1800), page 73. It is also found as a broadside in the Bodleian Library:


THE VILLAGE LOVERS.
Written by Mr. Cross.

WILLIAM and Anne were lovers true,
In the same village infants rear'd,
In childhoods pranks affection grew,
Which youthful passion more endear'd.
To serve his king o'er ocean bound,
The battle's rage had Will defy'd,
And with success and glory crown'd,
Return'd to make his Anne a bride.

The morn was fix’d, so smart array'd,
Will to the steeple led the way,
When springing from a neighbouring glade,
A press-gang darted on their prey:
He check’d a tear that wrung his heart,
Exclaim'd to Anne, who pallid grew—
“’Tis for my country’s good we part,”
Then heav'd a sigh, and bade adieu.

Borne from his Anne wide o'er the main,
Alas! she never look’d up more;
A burning fever wreck’d her brain,
A beating heart her bosom tore.
The ship some leagues had sail'd from land,
Vain 'gainst the feelings William strove;
Fancy pourtray’d her on the strand,
O'er board he leap'd to meet his love.

The cruel waves he beat amain,
Within a cable's length of shore,
Made one sad effort to regain,
But sunk, alas! to rise no more.
His pallid corse when Anne espy'd,
Who dar'd the tempest's terror brave,
She shriek'd, breath'd out his name, and died,
Both now repos'd in one cold grave.