« السابقةمتابعة »
With cane extended far I sought
To steer it close to land,
Escap d my eager hand.
With fix'd confid'rate face,
To comprehend the case.
Dispersing all his dream,
The windings of the stream.
Beau trotting far before,
And plunging left the shore.
Impatient swim to meet
The treasure at my feet. Charm’d with the fight, the world, I cry'd,
Shall know of this thy deed;
Of man's fuperior breed.
Awake at duty's call,
To Him who gives me all.
THE DOUBLET OF GREY.
BY MRS. ROBINSON.
A dark foreft now blackens the mound: Where often, at dawn-light, the deep-founding bell Tolls sadly and folemn a soul-parting knell,
While the ruin re-echoes the found. Yet long has the castle been left to decay,
For its ramparts are skirted with thorn; And no one by moon-light will venture that way, Left they meet the poor maid, in her doublet of grey,
As she wanders, all pale and forlorn! " And why should she wander? O tell me, I pray,
“ And, 'O! why does she wander alone ?" Beneath the dark ivy, now left to decay, With no shroud, but a coarse simple doublet of grey,
Lies her bosom as cold as a stone.
Or fo comely, when richly array'd;
Than a rose with the cheek of the maid.
Was the heir of a peasant's hard toil;
What the damsel receiy'd with a smile..
And a grave
Whene'er to the wake or the chase she would
Theodore loiter'd that way;
Still he watch'd till the closing of day.
Heard the story of love with dismay;
Should be Madeline's bridal array.
And the moon-beams shone paly and clear;
And the blood in her heart froze for fear;
he was making with speed;
“i Curs'd caitiff! thy bosom shall bleed!" Distracted, forlorn, from the castle of pride,
She escap'd at the next close of day,
And her form in a doublet of grey.
Through the gate hung with ivy she flew :
ng vistas between,
Where the cottage of Theodore stood;
While the keen hunters travers'd the wood.
With a deep sullen murmur, rush'd by;
When she found that no shelter was nigh.
And now, on the dry wither'd fern, she could hear
The hoofs of swift horses rebound;
And she shudder'd and shrunk at the found. so 'Tis here we will wait," cry'd the horseman; “ for see
“ How the moon with black clouds is o'erspread; “ No hut yields a shelter, no forest a tree“ This heath shall young Theodore's bridal-couch be,
“ And the cold earth shall pillow his head. “ Hark! some one approaches :- now stand we aside,
“ We shall know him—for see the moon's clear; " In a doublet of grey he now waits for his bride, “ But, ere dawn-light; the carle shall repent of his pride,
“ And his pale mangled body rest here.”
The horsemen were scatter'd far wide;
And the torrent rolld swift by her side.
While her ear met the deep groan of death; “ Yield, yield thee, bold peasant," the murderer faid, “ This turf with thy heart's dearest blood shall be red,
“ And thy bones whiten over the heath.” Now shrieking, despairing, she starts from the ground,
And her spear, with new strength she lets go:
As it drank the life-blood of her foe.
Soon the warm rofy cints circled wide;
With her lover's pale corpse by his Gde! Half frantic she fell on her parent's cold breast,
And she bath'd her white bosom with gore; Then, in anguish, the form of her Theodore press’d-“I will yet be thy bride, in the grave we will rell,"
She exclaim'd; and she suffer'd no morc.
Now o'er the wild heath, when the winter winds blow,
And the moon-silver'd fern branches wave, Pale Theodore's spectre is seen gliding flow, As he calls on the damsel in accents of woe,
Till the bell warns him back to his grave. And while the deep sound echoes over the wood, : :
Now the villagers shrink with dismay; For, as legends declare, where the castle once food, 'Mid the ruins, by moon-light, all cover'd with blood,
Shrieks the maid-in her doublet of grey.
A COURT AUDIENCE.
LD South, a witty churchman reckon'd,
My Lord! why, 'tis a monstrous thing!
THE WINTER'S DAY.
THEN raging storms deform the air,
And the wide landscape, bright and fair,
No deepen'd colours blend.
Bleak from the north and east,
Prepar'd to laugh and feast :