CLIFTON GROVE. 23 



Bat now she hears a quickening footstep sound, 



Liglitlj it comes, and nearer does it bound : 



'Tis Bateman's self, — he springs into her arms, 



"I'is he that clasps, and chides her vain alarms. 



" Yet why this silence ? — I have waited long, 



And the cold storm has yell'd the trees among. 



And now thou'rt here my fears are Hed— yet speak, 



Why does the salt tear moisten on thy cheek ? 



Say, what is wrong ?" — Now through a parting cloud, 



The pale moon peer'd from her tempestuous shr._.ud, 



And Bateman's face was seen ; — 'twas deadly white, 



And sorrow seem'd to sicken in his sight. 



•• Oh, speak, my love !" again the maid conjured ; 



'• Why is thy heart in sullen woe immured?" 



He raised his head, and thrice essay'd to tell, 



Thrice from his lips the unfinished accents fell ; 



When thus at last reluctantly he broke 



His boding silence, and the maid bespoke : — 



" Grieve not, my love, but ere the morn advance 



I on these fields must cast my parting glance ; 



For three long years, by cruel fate's command, 



I go to languish in a foreign land. 



Oh, Margaret ! omens dire have met my view 



Say, Avhen far distant, wilt thou bear me true ? 



Should honours tempt thee, and should riches fee, 



Wouldst thou forget thine ardent vows to me, 



And on the silken couch of w ealth reclined. 



Banish thy faithful Bateman from thy mind ?" 



" Oh ! why," replies the maid, " my faith thus prove ?— 



Canst thou ! ah, canst thou, then, suspect my love ? 



Hear me, just God ! if, from my traitorous heart, 



My Bateman's fond remembrance e'er shall part, 



If, when he hail again his native shore, 



He finds his Margaret true to him no more, 



May fiends of hell, and every power of dread, 



Conjoin'd, then drag me from my perjured bed, 



And hurl me headlong down these awful steeps, 



To find deserved death in yonder deeps !"* 



* This part of the Trent is commonly called" The Clifton Derps." 



