William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
The Maid of LlanwellynJoanna Baillie (17621851)
I
Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake,
No corn in my garner, nor fruit on my tree,
Yet the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
And loud bay’d the watch-dog, loud scolded the dame;
For shame, silly Lightfoot! what is it to thee,
Though the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me?
The clerk at the alehouse still claims the great chair,
But, of all our proud fellows, the proudest I’ll be,
While the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
And meek as a matron in mantle of gray,
And trim as a lady of gentle degree,
Is the Maid of Llanwellyn, who smiles upon me.