Sir ELDRED of the BOWER: A LEGENDARY TALE, PART II

ONCE—'twas upon a summer's walk, The gaudy day was fled; They cheated Time with cheerful talk, When thus Sir ARDOLPH said:

"Thy father was the firmest friend "That e'er my being blest; "And every virtue Heaven could send, "Fast bound him to my breast.

"Together did we learn to bear "The targe and ample shield; "Together learn'd in many a war, "The deathful spear to wield.

"To make our union still more dear, "We both were doom'd to prove "What is most sweet and most severe "In heart-dissolving love.

"The daughter of a neighbouring Knight "Did my fond heart engage; "And ne'er did Heav'n the virtues write "Upon a fairer page.

"His bosom felt an equal wound, "Nor sigh'd we long in vain; "One summer's sun beheld us bound "In Hymen's holy chain.

"Thou wast SIR ELDRED's only child, "Thy father's darling joy; "On me a lovely daughter smil'd, "On me a blooming boy.

"But man has woes, has clouds of care, "That dim his star of life— "My arms receiv'd the little pair, "The earth's cold breast, my wife.

"Forgive, thou gentle Knight, forgive, "Fond foolish tears will flow; "One day like mine thy heart may heave, "And mourn its lot of woe.

"But grant, kind Heaven! thou ne'er may'st know "The pangs I now impart; "Nor ever feel the deadly blow "That rives a husband's heart.

"Beside the blooming banks of Tay, "My angel's ashes sleep; "And wherefore should her ARDOLPH stay, "Except to watch and weep?

"I bore my beauteous babes away "With many a gushing tear, "I left the blooming banks of Tay, "And brought my darlings here.

"I watch'd my little household cares, "And form'd their growing youth; "And fondly train'd their infant years "To love and cherish truth."

"Thy blooming BIRTHA here I see," Sir. ELDRED straight rejoin'd; "But why thy son is not with thee, "Resolve my doubting; mind."

When BIRTHA did the question hear, She sigh'd, but could not speak; And many a soft and silent tear Stray'd down her damask check.

Then pass'd o'er good Sir ARDOLPH's face, A cast of deadly pale; But soon compos'd, with manly grace He thus renew'd his tale:

"For him my heart too much has bled, "For him, my darling son, "Has sorrow prest my hoary head; "But—Heav'n's high will be done!

"Scarce eighteen winters had revolv'd, "To crown the circling year, "Before my valiant boy resolv'd "The warrior's lance to bear,

"Too high I priz'd my native land, "Too dear his fame I held, "T' oppose a parent's stern command, "And keep him from the field.

"He left me—left his sister too, "Yet tears bedew'd his face— "What could a feeble old man do?— "He burst from my embrace.

"O thirst of glory, fatal flame! "O laurels dearly bought! "Yet sweet is death when earn'd with fame— "So virtuous EDWY thought.

"Full manfully the brave boy strove, "Tho' pressing ranks oppose; "But weak the strongest arm must prove "Against an host of foes.

"A deadly wound my son receives, "A spear assails his side. "Grief does not kill—for ARDOLPH lives "To tell that EDWY died.

"His long—lov'd Mother died again "In EDWY's parting groan; "I wept for her, yet wept in vain— "I wept for both in one.

"I would have died—I sought to die; "But Heaven restrain'd the thought, "And to my passion-clouded eye "My helpless BIRTHA brought.

"When lo! array'd in robes of light, "A nymph celestial came; "She clear'd the mists that dimm'd my sight— "RELIGION was her name.

"She prov'd the chastisement divine, "And bade me kiss the rod; "She taught this rebel heart of mine "Submission to its God.

"RELIGION taught me to sustain "What nature bade me feel; "And piety reliev'd the pain "Which time can never heal."

He ceas'd—With sorrow and delight The tale Sir ELDRED hears, Then weeping cries—"Thou noble Knight, For thanks accept my tears.

"O ARDOLPH, might I dare aspire "To claim so bright a boon!— "Good old Sir ELDRED was my sire— "And thou hast lost a son.

"And tho' I want a worthier plea "To urge so dear a cause, "Yet, let me to thy bosom be "What once thy EDWY was.

"My trembling tongue its aid denies; "For thou may'st disapprove; "Then read it in my ardent eyes, "Oh! read the tale of love.

"Thy beauteous BIRTHA '"—"Gracious Power, "How cou'd I e'er repine, "Cries ARDOLPH, "since I see this hour? "Yes—BIRTHA shall be thine."

A little transient gleam of red Shot faintly o'er her face, And every trembling feature spread With sweet disorder'd grace.

The tender father kindly smil'd With fullness of content, And fondly eyed his darling child, Who, bashful, blush'd consent.

O then to paint the vast delight That fill'd Sir ELDRED's heart, To tell the transports of the Knight, Wou'd mock the Muse's art.

But every kind and gracious soul, Where gentle passions dwell, Will better far conceive the whole, Than any Muse can tell.

The more the Knight his BIRTHA knew, The more he priz'd the Maid; Some worth each day produc'd to view, Some grace each hour betray'd.

The virgin too was fond to charm The dear, accomplish'd Youth; His single breast she strove to warm, And crown'd, with love, his truth.

Unlike the dames of modern days, Who general homage claim, Who court the universal gaze, And pant for public fame.

Then Beauty but on merit smil'd, Nor were her chaste smiles sold; No venal father gave his child For grandeur, or for gold.

The ardour of young ELDRED's flame But ill cou'd brook delay, And oft he press'd the maid to name A speedy nuptial day.

The fond impatience of his breast 'Twas all in vain to hide, But she his eager suit represt. With modest, maiden pride.

When oft Sir ELDRED press'd the day Which was to crown his truth, The thoughtful Sire wou'd sigh, and say, "O happy state of youth!

"It little recks the woes which wait "To scare its dreams of joy, "Nor thinks to-morrow's alter'd fate "May all those dreams destroy.

"And tho' the flatterer, Hope, deceives, "And painted prospects shews; "Yet man, still cheated, still believes, "Till death the bright scene close.

"So look'd my bride, so sweetly mild, "On me her beauty's slave; But whilst she look'd, and whilst she smil'd, "She sunk into the grave.

"Yet, O forgive an old man's care, "Forgive a father's zeal; "Who fondly loves must greatly fear, "Who fears must greatly feel.

"Once more in soft and sacred bands "Shall Love and Hymen meet; "To-morrow shall unite your hands, "And—be your bliss complete!"

The rising sun inflam'd the sky, The golden orient blush'd; But BIRTHA's cheeks a sweeter die, A brighter crimson flush'd.

The Priest, in milk-white vestments clad, Perform'd the mystic rite; Love lit the hallow'd torch that led To Hymen's chaste delight.

How feeble language were to speak Th' immeasurable joy That fir'd Sir ELDRED's ardent cheek, And triumph'd in his eye!

Sir ARDOLPH's pleasu're stood confest, A pleasure all his own; The guarded rapture of a breast Which many a grief had known.

'Twas such a sober sense of joy As Angels well might keep; A joy chastis'd by piety, A joy prepar'd to weep.

To recollect her scatter'd thought, And shun the noon-tide hour, The lovely bride in secret sought The coolness of her Bower.

Long she remain'd—th' enamour'd Knight, Impatient at her stay, And all unfit to taste delight When BIRTHA was away;

Betakes him to the secret Bower; His footsteps softly move; Impell'd by every tender power, He steals upon his love.

O, horror! horror! blasting sight! He sees his BIRTHA's charms, Reclin'd with melting, fond delight, Within a stranger's arms.

Wild phrenzy fires his frantic hand, Distracted at the sight, He flies to where the lovers stand, And stabs the stranger Knight.

"Die, traitor, die, thy guilty flames "Demand th' avenging steel"— "It is my brother, she exclaims, "Tis EDWY—Oh farewell!"

An aged peasant, EDWY's guide, The good old ARDOLPH sought; He told him that his bosom's pride, His EDWY, he had brought.

O how the father's feelings melt! How faint, and how revive! Just so the Hebrew Patriarch felt To find his son alive.

"Let me behold my darling's face "And bless him ere I die! "Then with a swift and vigorous pace He to the Bower did hie.

O sad reverse !—Sunk on the ground His slaughter'd son he view'd, And dying BIRTHA close he found In brother's blood imbued.

Cold, speechless, senseless, ELDRED near Gaz'd on the deed he had done; Like the blank statue of Despair, Or Madness grav'd in stone.

The father saw— so Jephthah stood, So turn'd his woe-fraught eye, When the dear, destin'd child he view'd, His zeal had doom'd to die.

He look'd the woe he could not speak, And on the pale corse prest His wan, discolour'd, dying cheek, And silent, sunk to rest.

Then BIRTHA faintly rais'd her eye, Which long had ceas'd to stream, On ELDRED fix'd with many a sigh Its dim, departing beam.

The cold, cold dews of hastening death Upon her pale face stand; And quick and short her failing breath, And tremulous her hand.

The cold, cold dews of hastening death, The dim, departing eye, The quivering hand, the short quick breath He view'd— and did not die.

He saw her spirit mount in air, Its kindred skies to seek; His heart its anguish cou'd not bear, And yet it wou'd not break.

The mournful Muse forbears to tell How wretched ELDRED died: She draws the Grecian Painter's veil, The vast distress to hide.

Yet Heaven's decrees are just, and wise, And man is born to bear: Joy is the portion of the skies, Beneath them, all is care.