"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 flowers before :
"But first the nodding minstrels go With music meet for lordly bowers,
The children next in snow-white vests,
Strewing buds and flowers !
"And then my love and I shall pace,
My jet black hair in pearly braids,
Between our comely bachelors
And blushing bridal maids."
OR THE CIRCASSIAN'S 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 shelter'd 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.
* Morning Post, April 13, 1798.
[I saw the white waves, o'er and o'er,
Break against the distant shore.
All at once upon the sight,
All at once they broke in light:
I heard no murmur of their roar,
Nor ever I beheld them flowing,
Neither coming, neither going;
But only saw them, o'er and o'er,
Break against the curved shore;
Now disappearing from the sight,
Now twinkling regular and white;
And Lewti's smiling mouth can show
As white and regular a row.
Nay, treacherous image! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.]
I saw a cloud of palest hue,
Onward to the moon it pass'd;
Still brighter and more bright it grew,
With floating colours not a few,
Till it reach'd 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 grey—
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 didst not look unkind.
I saw a vapour 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 snatch'd aloft the lawny shroud
Of lady fair-that died for love.
For maids, as well as youths, have perish'd
From fruitless love too fondly cherish'd.
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind-
Though Lewti never will be kind,
[This hand should make his life-blood flow That ever scorn'd my Lewti so!
I cannot choose but fix my sight
On that small vapour, thin and white!
So thin, it scarcely, I protest,
Bedims the star that shines behind it ;
And pity dwells in Lewti's breast,
Alas! if I knew how to find it.
And O! how sweet it were, I wist,
To see my Lewti's eyes to-morrow
Shine brightly through as thin a mist
Of pity and repentant sorrow!
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind-
Ah, Lewti! why art thou unkind?]
Hush! my heedless feet from under
Slip the crumbling banks for ever:
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,
I would it were your true delight
To sleep by day and wake all night.
I know the place where Lewti lies
When silent night has closed her eyes:
It is a breezy jasmine-bower,
The nightingale sings o'er her head:
Voice of the night! had I the power
That leafy labyrinth to thread,
And creep, like thee, with soundless tread, I then might view her bosom white
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