We perceive a susceptibility to
adulteration in their worship at the sight of one of their number, a
young maid, suddenly snatched up to the gaping heights of Luxury and
Fashion through sheer good looks. Remembering that they are accustomed to
a totally reverse effect from that possession, it is very perceptible how
a breach in their reverence may come of the change.
Otherwise the ballad is innocent; certainly it is innocent in design. A
fresher national song of a beautiful incident of our country life has
never been written. The sentiments are natural, the imagery is apt and
redolent of the soil, the music of the verse appeals to the dullest ear.
It has no smell of the lamp, nothing foreign and far-fetched about it,
but is just what it pretends to be, the carol of the native bird. A
sample will show, for the ballad is much too long to be given entire:
Sweet Susie she tripped on a shiny May morn,
As blithe as the lark from the green-springing corn,
When, hard by a stile, 'twas her luck to behold
A wonderful gentleman covered with gold!
There was gold on his breeches and gold on his coat,
His shirt-frill was grand as a fifty-pound note;
The diamonds glittered all up him so bright,
She thought him the Milky Way clothing a Sprite!
'Fear not, pretty maiden,' he said with a smile;
'And, pray, let me help you in crossing the stile.
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