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LIST, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower
Fit music for a solemn vale!
And holier seems the ground To him who catches on the gale The spirit of a mournful tale,
Embodied in the sound.
Not far from that fair sight whereon
As Story says, in antique days,
A stern-brow'd house appeared;
Foil to a jewel rich in light
Cage for a bird of plumage bright,
To win this bright bird from her cage,
Full happy season, when was known,
Their mutual loyalty
Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Where Fact with Fancy stooped to play,
To trouble hours that winged their way,
But in old times Love dwelt not long
Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
And proves the Lover true;"
They parted. Well with him it fared
Though faint, compared with spear and shield,
And needlework and flowers.
Yet blest was Emma when she heard
She warbled from full heart:
Of absence! but they will not stay,
Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills
Whatever path he chooses;
As if his orb, that owns no curb,
Received the light her's loses.
He comes not back; an ampler space
Requires for nobler deeds;
He ranges on from place to place,
But what her fancy breeds.
His fame may spread, but in the past
Clear sight she has of what he was,
The tear in answer flows;
Month falls on month with heavier weight;
In sleep she sometimes walked abroad,
But she is innocent of blood, —
The moon is not more pure
That shines aloft, while through the wood
She thrids her way, the sounding Flood
Her melancholy lure!
While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe, And owls alone are waking,
In white arrayed, glides on the Maid