a 
POETRY. 
‘THE WAIL OF ELVINA. AN ODE. 
For the Bee. 
“W a asr time the soft ey’d star of eve 
“Gleam’d on the gently trembling wave, 
From Bara’s isle the sighing gale 
Wafted Elvina’s rueful wail : 
Forlorn, her lovely locks the tore, 
And pour’d her sorrows on the desart fhore. 
© Ye rocks,” fhe cried, © ye fhelving caves, 
“© Whose sides the briny billow laves; 
‘ © Ye cliffs far frowning o’er the deep, 
€ Ye lonesome isles,—to you I weep; 
y ¢ Far distant from my father’s halls, 
a © The tow’rs of Moran and my native walls. 
‘ 
} © O Moran are thy warriors fled ! 
2 © Dismal and dark their narrow bed; 
-! € Silent they sleep,—the north wind, cold, 
; * Blows dreary o’er their crumbling mold; 
h 6 Silent they sleep, no dawning day 
5 « Visits the grave, or wakes their fhrouded clay. 
-At dead of njght a cry was heard, 
« O why was Moran unprepar’d! 
“ No watchman on the castle wall, 
€ No wakeful warrior in the hall; 
« At dead of night the crafty foe 
« Rufh’d from the main, and struck the vengeful blow 
€ To arms! cried Moran, but in vain! 
“€ L-saw my warlike brothers slain! 
* ¢ I saw my father’s bosom gor’d5 
oe ¢ By Cadwal’s num’rous host o’erpow’r'd 
© He fell; and from the gufhing wound, 
a “ Recking and red, his life blood stream’d around. 
€ Mingling with Smoke I saw the fire 
‘* Along the rending walls aspire 5 
* Now rage impetuous in the hall, + 
« (1 heard the crafhing rafters fall!) 
* Now o’er the roof and turrets high, 
art blazes fierce and furious to the fky ! 
VOL. ix, I t 
