1824.] 



Mrs. Garnttt's^^I^ight before the Bridal." 



resident of a cloister ; she even takes the 

 vows, — :but still remains in lier fiUljci's 

 house until he departs fur the wars. In 

 the mean time, Helena (the name of the 

 heroine,) becomes acquainted willi a 

 young cavalier of the name of Leontio ; 

 they become lovers, although there is 

 no lawful hope for either : the consc- 

 <lticnce of this is, that Helena yields 

 herself to Leontio's guilty passion tiic 

 very nig:lit before ho sets olT in company 

 with her father; she is immediately im- 

 muro|[| in her convent. Don Miguel, 

 her father, falls in battle. Leontio re- 

 turns, — falls in love -vith a 30ung ricii 

 heiress, of the name of Inez, — woos her, 

 and is accepted. Helena hears of this, 

 and, maddened at the ncw^, sends a 

 letter to her seducer, entreating him. to 

 meet her, the night before the bridal, in 

 the deserted house of her deceased 

 parent. He comes, and sees lier in all 

 her charms, sciited in a magnificent 

 apartment: his hc.art at first seems to 

 soften, but it soon regains its wonted 

 tone: — • 



How could he chide her kneelin? iherc,T-so full 



Of grief, and shame, and unaluted love; 



Wiih hpr white arms, so Ions and beauiiful. 



Wound closely round him f llowcould he reprove 



That fondness which, if it. ahal had jtown 



To crim;, had sinn d for him, and him alone ? 



Yet he did chide her, and ignobly strove 



To cast all guilt from his unmanly soul. 



And heap on her the infamy of the whole. 



He had not deem'd she own'd a heart so frail. 



He thought her shielded by a vestal's veil ; 



What was his crime? Love in her bosom burn'd, 



And mutual passion he lor lier*s reiurn'd. 



'Twas idle now against the pasl to rail, 



Twas but a youthful error, and no more : 



Htish'd in their hearts, 't would pass all silent o'er; 



The world would hear noughtof it,— whv then waste 



One precious hour in grieving o'er the past? 



He «wore to her,— cold sensualist ! how he »wore,^ 



That she was lovely, aye, and lov'd as ever. 



And spread his arms to fold a^ain her form 



To his false heart, and riot in each charm; 



But the sprung from his grasp, and answer'd, 



" Never! 

 O never, — so heaven witness me !— slialt thou 

 Tliy perjur'd arms, Ihou base one, round me 



throw." 



She stood, oh! how shall I describe her!— how 



Pourtray her bearing, as she towering stood, ' 

 With eye of lightning, brow to which the blood 

 Rush'd vengeful red, — hii;h breast and swelling vein, 

 Lip mute with its unutterable disdain. 



He shrunk beneath the ven;;p:ince of her eye, 

 Tlierc was nought earihlv like to it. A cry,— 

 A craven cry,— escap'd him : he had met 

 His foe undaunted,— so Would meet him yet ; 

 Had (ac'dthe battle in iis darkest lower. 

 Defied, and even woo'd, the frown nf fate ; 

 But he hadnever brav'dawonjan's hate; 

 And that subdued him. Never till diat hour 

 Had he felt fear come o'er him : he had need. 

 For she had ncrv'd her sinews tor a deed,— 

 How shall I write it ! forth fium her dark vest 

 Flash'd die bright steel,— 'Iwas rais'd, — 'twas aim'd, 



—it fell. 

 Merciful God t ah no, not on his breast. 

 But lo the eariti. Her heart was woman's still,— 

 The thought was murd'nius, but ahe could nut kill. 

 The conllict past, she fell,— her ilark hair wrraili'd 

 Around her form,— our mov'd, nor luok'd, nur 



Urealli'd. 



501 



Inez, on her bridal morn, anxiously 

 awails the coming of Leonlio; but he 

 does not ajipear. At last she is in- 

 formed by a menial tliat his body, co- 

 vered with wounds, had been found near 

 the towerr. of Alcaz:ir: she instantly 

 falls lifeless. Seville is in an uproar on 

 account of (his murder : Lennlio liatl 

 been seen the preceding night to eiitei" 

 the gate of Don jMigucl; ihilher rutili 

 the crowds, — tiiey seek Helena : — 



And there she sat ! the dying lamp <;Icam'.d faiat 



Upon her figure; language cannot paint 



fler inarhle look,— her de*oJale despair; 



Nor their traiisii.x'd amaze to hnd her there, 



Like tenant of the tomb ; she wliom tiiey had thought 



To have found Ihetc with guilt and shame o'et- 



wrouijht. 

 Tliey trac'd nj sign of fear, — hut guilt, deep guilt, 

 Glared all around licr : at her feei (here lay 

 Thatslearaing poniard, jeweli'd at the hilt. 

 But bloodies.-; thaLava.I'd not.— there it lay: 

 Was it lit instrument f.ir maiden's hand ? 

 Upon the board (hat silver cui) did stand. 

 As he had draiu'd it: wnie and viands rare 

 Iri house of moui ning spread,— what did ihey there ? 



Slie is seized, and brought to trial, — 

 w here she, velieinently a.'^sorts that she 

 is entirely innocent of the dct<l : hcc 

 protestations, however, avail her not, — 

 she iscoiideniued and execntt;;l. Many 

 years pass avvav, (iil one uiglit the 

 priest, who attended her in her la.st 

 moments, is called to visit the couch of 

 a dying man, and to hear his coo- 

 fession : — 



lie lav in slumber, if such could be call'd 

 A frighlful sleep that evei7 eye appall'd ; 

 His blue lips mov'd, his glassy eye-lialls roll'd. 

 And his hand grappled with the curtains' fold. 



He confesses himself to he a noble of 

 the first rank, who had aspired to <he 

 hand of Inez, but, b<:iiig snpplantt-d by 

 Leontio, he in revenge caused him to bo 

 murdered. 



I 'scaped the vengeance of the laws,— one fell 

 Of my foul crime the victim innocent. 

 Hut that guilt clung to me where'er I went, 

 Making my soul its own fifitce burning heli. 

 Is there no hope for me ! O father, say. 



The priest had turn'd in sickening ear aa-av, 

 And o'er his brow his shrouding garb had flung. 

 Still on his ear the dark confession rung; 

 He thought on that yet well- lemember'd day, 

 And oil the parting words of Helena; 

 How to the last she had ass;-rted clear 

 Her innocence. He turn'd him,— what lay there » 

 7 lie murderer's corse stretch'd on its gorgeous bier. 

 I.oud roll'd the siorni ; one broad sulphureous flame 

 Flash'd through the chamber, and then redly came 

 Full on thai couch. The features of the dead 

 Glared in the light one moment, — then were spread 

 O'er them thise pale and livid huesthatcome 

 Faintly to show the secrels of the tomb. 



I'hns ends the poem : the specimens 

 which we have given of it speak for 

 themselves; they require no panegyrist, 

 and cannot fail to recommend the entire 

 work to universal favour. 



Mr. BowuiNG is already well known 

 to the liritish public by his transliitions 

 from the Dutch and Uussiun puets, ami 



we 



