* Here followed the stanzas, afterwards published separately under the title "Love," (see this vol. p. 126,) and after them came the other three stanzas printed above; the whole forming the introduction to the intended Dark Ladie, of which all that exists is to be found on next page. Late Ed.

F*

And now once more, a tale of woe,
A woful tale of love I sing ;
For thee, my Genevieve, it sighs,
And trembles on the string.

When last I sang the cruel scorn,
That crazed this bold and lovely knight,
And how he roamed the mountain-woods,
Nor rested day or night;

I promised thee a sister tale,

Of man's perfidious cruelty;

Come, then, and hear what cruel wrong Befell the Dark Ladie.

THE BALLAD OF THE DARK LADIE

A FRAGMENT.

BENEATH yon birch with silver bark
And boughs so pendulous and fair,
The brook falls scattered down the rock :
And all is mossy there!

And there upon the moss she sits,

The Dark Ladie in silent pain;
The heavy tear is in her eye;

And drops and swells again.

Three times she sends her little page
Up to the castled mountain's breast,
If he might find the Knight that wears
The Griffin for his crest.

The sun was sloping down the sky,
And she had lingered there all day,
Counting moments, dreaming fears—
O wherefore can he stay?

She hears a rustling o'er the brook,
She sees far off a swinging bough!

"'Tis He! 'Tis my betrothed Knight! Lord Falkland, it is Thou !"

She springs, she clasps him round the neck, She sobs a thousand hopes and fears,

Her kisses glowing on his cheeks

'My friends with rude ungentle words
They scoff and bid me fly to thee!
O give me shelter in thy breast!
O shield and shelter me!

"My Henry, I have given thee much,
I gave what I can ne'er recall,
I gave my heart, I gave my peace,
O Heaven! I gave thee all !"

The Knight made answer to the Maid,
While to his heart he held her hand,
"Nine castles hath my noble sire,
None statelier in the land.

"The fairest one shall be my love's,
The fairest castle of the nine !
Wait only till the stars peep out,
The fairest shall be thine :

"Wait only till the hand of eve

Hath wholly closed yon western bars,
And through the dark we two will steal
Beneath the twinkling stars!"-

"The dark? the dark? No! not the dark? The twinkling stars? How, Henry? How? O God! 'twas in the eye of noon

He pledged his sacred vow!

"And in the eye of noon, my love,

Shall lead me from my mother's door
Sweet boys and girls all clothed in white
Strewing flow'rs before :

"But first the nodding minstrels go
With music meet for lordly bow'rs,
The children next in snow-white vests,
Strewing buds and flow'rs!

"And then my love and I shall pace,
My jet-black hair in pearly braids,
Between our comely bachelors
And blushing bridal maids."

*

LEWTI,

OR THE CIRCASSIAN LOVE-CHANT.

AT midnight by the stream I roved,
To forget the form I loved.

Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.

The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam And the shadow of a star

Heaved upon Tamaha's stream;

But the rock shone brighter far,
The rock half sheltered from my view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew—
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair,
Gleaming through her sable hair.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.
I saw a cloud of palest hue,

Onward to the moon it passed;
Still brighter and more bright it grew,
With floating colors not a few,

Till it reached the moon at last :
Then the cloud was wholly bright,
With a rich and amber light!
And so with many a hope I seek,

And with such joy I find my Lewti;

And even so my pale wan cheek

Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty!

Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind, If Lewti never will be kind.

The little cloud-it floats away,
Away it goes; away so soon?
Alas! it has no power to stay ;
Its hues are dim, its hues are gray-
Away it passes from the moon!
How mournfully it seems to fly,
Ever fading more and more,
To joyless regions of the sky-

And now 'tis whiter than before!
As white as my poor cheek will be,
When, Lewti! on my couch I lie,

A dying man for love of thee.

Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind— And yet, thou did'st not look unkind.

I saw a vapor in the sky,

Thin, and white, and very high;

I ne'er beheld so thin a cloud :

Perhaps the breezes that can fly
Now below and now above,
Have snatched aloft the lawny shroud
Of Lady fair-that died for love.

For maids, as well as youths, have perished
From fruitless love too fondly cherished.
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind-
For Lewti never will be kind.

Hush my heedless feet from under
Slip the crumbling banks forever:

Like echoes to a distant thunder,

They plunge into the gentle river.
The river-swans have heard my tread,
And startle from their reedy bed.

O beauteous birds! methinks ye measure
Your movements to some heavenly tune!
O beauteous birds! 'tis such a pleasure
To see you move beneath the moon,