But oh! they were words of deepest woe, He sprang to her arms, "I will never go," He said, 66 we will never part. If we cannot live together, dear, And then bless'd spirits we'll wander here, We listen the sound of the musical rill, And kiss the sweet lips that are prest." He said and they walk'd to a deep, clear stream, And 'neath the light of pale Cynthia's beam, Not a sound was heard, along the shore, Save the owl that scream'd, and the wind's wild roar, The whirlwinds loud whistled a dirge on the moor, For beauty still mantl'd their cheeks with its charms, Their curls had entwin'd round each other's brow, Like the ivy twines round the tree; Wet by the wave were their breasts of snow, G And low they were laid in their earthy bed, Like flowers of the valley, they sparkle and bloom, A white silvery vest, ting'd brightly with gold, And robes of rich whiteness, like snow to behold, And their harps they strike sweetly, and deeply, and loud, Till the valleys reecho the strain. But should you e'er on that sacred spot dare, They vanish in mist upon the soft air, And no more that night they are seen." Such, such were the pensive and mournful tales, That 'guil'd many a weary hour; When we all sat safe from the rude wind's rage, And shelter'd from stormy shower. With wonder each heard, astonish'd each stands, While the pale cheek trembles with fear; Convulséd each breast, we wrung our small hands, And dropp'd on our bosoms a tear. THE MAID AND THE SMUGGLER. 31 THE MAID AND THE SMUGGLER. A BALLAD. THE night was dark, the billows dash'd, The thunders peal'd, the lightnings flash'd, A pensive maiden stray'd; She look'd as far as eye could reach, She clasp'd her hands with ecstacy, Her face was pale when from the cave, She led him to that cavern wide, Where on her breast he fell; She saw blood gushing from his side, Had fought most bravely there 32 THE MAID AND THE SMUGGLER. His well-arm'd foe was swift and brave, And he could do and dare But wildly flew the shafts of death, He curs'd the hour with deep-drawn breath, They gallop'd o'er the foaming sea, And from the foe they fly; The smuggler reach'd the shore with glee, But reach'd the shore to die. She kiss'd and press'd his snowy brow, She heard his last fond spirit's vow, She hung o'er charms that still were fair, Sigh'd out her soul alone. The night's dark clouds had pass'd away, And Phebus lit the sky; When the bright beams of broad noon-day, Reveal'd them to the eye. Pale was each cheek, and like a flower, So look'd they both when dead. And his stern eye was fix'd, serene, His heart that knew not coward fear, And there the young, the fair, the brave, THE UNHAPPY LOVERS. Lo! where yon mansion towers above the grove, O'ergrown with moss and twining ivy green; There liv'd a family, rich, happy, blest, And peace and love, smil'd on the daily scene. Stern was the Father, rigorously just, The Mother was affectionate and good; The Son possess'd each sweet and manly grace, Kind to his friends, to strangers never rude, He was the only child, and dearly lov'd, Tho' ne'er indulg'd in any vicious way; Nor was his mind bent on such vile pursuits, But works of mercy mark'd each passing day. And wandering oft beneath the poor man's cot, To cheer his heart, his pious object there; He saw a fair maid, like himself employ'd, Dispensing blessings with sweet generous care. He heard kind accents fall from her pure lips, And saw sweet tears of pity in her eye; As o'er the abject and distress'd, she bent Her snowy breast, that woke compassion's sigh. H |