And that he knew it was a Fiend, And that unknowing what he did, And how she wept, and clasped his knees; And ever strove to expiate The scorn that crazed his brain ;— And that she nursed him in a cave; His dying words—but when I reached All impulses of soul and sense And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, And gentle wishes long subdued, She wept with pity and delight, She blushed with love, and virgin shame; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved-she stepped aside, * 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, When last I sang the cruel scorn, "'Tis He! 'Tis my betrothed Knight! Lord Falkland, it is Thou !" She springs, she clasps him round the neck, She quenches with her tears. My friends with rude ungentle words "My Henry, I have given thee much, gave what I can ne'er recall, I I gave my heart, I gave my peace, The Knight made answer to the Maid, "The fairest one shall be my love's, "Wait only till the hand of eve Hath wholly closed yon western bars, "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 "But first the nodding minstrels go "And then my love and I shall pace, * LEWTI, OR THE CIRCASSIAN LOVE-CHANT. AT midnight by the stream I roved, Image of Lewti! from my mind The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam Heaved upon Tamaha's stream; But the rock shone brighter far, Onward to the moon it passed; Till it reached the moon at last : And with such joy I find my Lewti; And even so my pale wan cheek Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty! |