"If fortune ever favour me, St. Hilda! hear my vow! No lover again in my native plain, Shall be thwarted as I am now. "One day I'll come to claim my bride, As a worthy and wealthy man! And my well earned gold shall raise a bridge Across this torrent's span." The rover came back from a far distant land, And he claimed of the maiden her long-promised hand; But he built, ere he won her, the bridge of his vow, And the lovers of Egton pass over it now. FOOTNOTE: [Footnote 206: "On first entering the village of Egton (near Whitby), instead of proceeding forward, take the road through a gate to the right, which leads past the church of Limber Hill, a winding and steep descent, which affords, from several points, fine views of Eskdale and Glaisdale, and at the foot of which the Beggar's Bridge, with its elegant single arch, bestrides the river Esk."--REED'S _Guide to Whitby_.] THE BANKS O' MORTON O' SWALE.[207] As autumn pour'd her teern o' good, And woe had ceased to wail, Ah wander'd forth hard by a woode, Upon the banks o' Swale. And there ah spied a lovely nymph Yan that neean could but hail, Ah sed, "Sweet lass, come take e trip Alang the banks o' Swale." Wi' looks as sweet as angels wear, She soon was in the vale, And ah was walking by my fair Upon the banks o' Swale. But ah sall neear forget that night, Whale life or memory fail, The hours they pass'd wi' syke delight, Upon the banks o' Swale. They swifter flew than did the stream, That murmur'd en the dale, For mah enjoyment was extreme Upon the banks o' Swale. Ah lov'd that lass as meh life, Ah felt to wish her weal, Ah ask'd her to become my wife Upon the banks o' Swale. Wi' looks bespeaking mind intent On what ah ardent tell, E' vain ah woo'd her to consent Upon the banks o' Swale. Ah kiss'd, ah press'd her to gi way But all of no availe, She had a wooer far away Fra the sweet banks o' Swale. A drinking ranting wretch wes hee, As ever was out o' hell, She took his hand and spurned me Far fra the banks o' Swale. But ah! when years had roll'd away Ah met a form full frail, She recognised me that day As fra the banks o' Swale. Said ah full low, "Can this be she, This thing of woe and wail, That ah yance kiss'd delightfully Upon the banks o' Swale?" O, heavens it was the very one Ah met e' that sweet vale, But ah the evary charm was gone, Ah saw ont' banks o' Swale. Wi' sorrow stamp'd on her brow She did her mind unveil, She told me all she had pass'd thro' Since on the banks o' Swale. But O her history how sad, To sad for me to tell, T'wad mak e' heart o' stane to bleed, Ah mourn ye banks o' Swale.