CLIFTOX GROVE. 



Chill'd with ainazement, — senseless with the blow, 

 He stood a marble monument of woe. 

 Till caird to all the horrors of despair, 

 He smote his brow, and tore his h.orrent hair ; 

 Then rush'd impetuous from the dreadful s} ot, 

 And sought those scenes (by memory ne'er forgot), 

 Those scenes, the witness of their growing flame, 

 And now like witnesses of Margaret's shame. 

 'Twas night— he sought the river's lonely shore. 

 And traced again their former wanderings o'er. 

 Now on the bank in silent grief he stood, 

 And gazed intently on the stealing flood, 

 Death in his m.ien and madness in his eye, 

 He watch'd the waters as they murmur'd by ; 

 Bade the base murderess triumph o'er his grave — ■ 

 Prepared to plunge into the Avhelming wave. 

 Yet still he stood irresolutely bent, 

 Religion sternly stayed his rash intent. 

 He knelt. — Cool played upon his cheek the wind, 

 And fann'd the fever of his maddening mind. 

 The willows waved, the stream it sweetly swept, 

 The paly moonbeam on its surface slept, 

 And all was peace : — he felt the general calm 

 O'er his rackd bosom shed a genial balm : 

 When casting far behind his streaming eye, 

 He saw the Grove, — in fancy saw her lie, 

 His Margaret, luU'd in Germain's* arms to rest, 

 And all the demon rose within his breast. 

 Convulsive now, he clench'd his trembling hand. 

 Cast his dark eye once more upon the land, 

 Then, at one spring, he spurn'd the yielding bank. 

 And in the calm deceitful current sank. 



Sad, on the solitude of night, the sound, 



As in the stream he plunged, was heard around : 



Then all was still, — the wave was rough no more, 



The river swept as sweetly as before. 



The willows waved, the m.oonbeam shone serene, 



And peace returning brooded o'er the scene. 



* Germain is tlie traditionary name of her husband. 



