Edward and Editha

When fair Editha, with young Edward sate, Upon a cliff, that overlook'd the main, As if intended by some wayward fate, A sudden tempest rose, of wind and rain, Which from the dreadful height with fury cast, The beauteous maid adown the frightful steep, Into the green and wide expanded waste, With Thetis, there, for ever more to sleep; A maniac wild, distracted, Edward fled, To all he met, this piteous burthen said, Say have you seen, where e'er you've been, Editha dear! my Fairy Queen.

Oft o'er the desert wild, he'd thoughtless roam, Or where the gloom, by clust'ring limes is made; And there, bewilder'd, make a transient home, Or hold vague converse with Editha's shade; And now he'd sally forth, by frenzy led, Or from his cell, rush with an hideous scream; Then tear the beauteous ringlets from his head, And seek the margin of some mournful stream: His eyes express'd the tempest in his brain, And thus he sung, in slow and pensive strain, Ye Willows green, say, have ye seen, Editha dear! my Fairy Queen.

Once, where the hurrying torrent rushes down, With thund'ring roar, upon the gulph below; While peering rocks, above the brambles frown, Like stately monarchs, with imperious brow; There, while poor Edward sate in abject mood, He thought Editha lav'd upon each wave; Then brav'd the deepest current of the flood, And dy'd, like her, within a wat'ry grave. But ere he sunk beneath the ruthless tide, Around he look'd, and thus he fainting cry'd, Ye Willows green, say, have ye seen, Editha dear! my Fairy Queen.