Parks with oak and chestnut shady,
      Parks and order’d gardens great,
    Ancient homes of lord and lady,
      Built for pleasure and for state.

    All he shows her makes him dearer;
      Evermore she seems to gaze
    On that cottage growing nearer,
      Where they twain will spend their days.

    O but she will love him truly! 
      He shall have a cheerful home;
    She will order all things duly
      When beneath his roof they come.

    Thus her heart rejoices greatly
      Till a gateway she discerns
    With armorial bearings stately,
      And beneath the gate she turns;
    Sees a mansion more majestic
      Than all those she saw before;
    Many a gallant gay domestic
      Bows before him at the door.

    And they speak in gentle murmur
      When they answer to his call,
    While he treads with footstep firmer,
      Leading on from hall to hall.

    And while now she wanders blindly,
      Nor the meaning can divine,
    Proudly turns he round and kindly,
     “All of this is mine and thine.”

    Here he lives in state and bounty,
      Lord of Burleigh, fair and free. 
    Not a lord in all the county
      Is so great a lord as he. 
    All at once the colour flushes
      Her sweet face from brow to chin;
    As it were with same she blushes,
      And her spirit changed within.

    Then her countenance all over
      Pale again as death did prove: 
    But he clasp’d her like a lover,
      And he cheer’d her soul with love.

    So she strove against her weakness,
      Tho’ at times her spirits sank;
    Shaped her heart with woman’s meekness
      To all duties of her rank;
    And a gentle consort made he,
      And her gentle mind was such
    That she grew a noble lady,
      And the people loved her much. 
    But a trouble weigh’d upon her
      And perplex’d her, night and morn,
    With the burden of an honour
      Unto which she was not born.

    Faint she grew and ever fainter. 
      As she murmur’d, “Oh, that he
    Were once more that landscape-painter
      Which did win my heart from me!”

    So she droop’d and droop’d before him,
      Fading slowly from his side;
    Three fair children first she bore him,
      Then before her time she died.

    Weeping, weeping late and early,
      Walking up and pacing down,
    Deeply mourn’d the Lord of Burleigh,
      Burleigh-house by Stamford-town.

    And he came to look upon her,
      And he look’d at her and said,
   “Bring the dress and put it on her
      That she wore when she was wed.”

    Then her people, softly treading,
      Bore to earth her body, drest
    In the dress that she was wed in,
      That her spirit might have rest.