20 IIENUY KIIJKF. AVIUTE S rOEMS. 



Now, see upon tlie perjured fair one hang 

 Remorse's glooms and never-ceasing pang. 

 Full well she knew, repentant now too late, 

 She soon must bow berieath the stroke of fate. 

 But, for the babe she bore beneath her breast, 

 The offended God proiong'd her life unblest. 

 But fast the fleeting moments roU'd awaj, 

 And near and nearer drew t!ie dreaded day ; 

 That day, foredoom'd to give her child the light, 

 And hurl its mother to the shades of night. 



The hour arrived, and from the wretched wife 



The guiltless baby struggled into life. — 



As night drew on, around her bed, a band 



Of friends and kindred kindlj' took their stand ; 



In holy prayer they pass'd the creeping time, 



Intent to expiate her awful crime. 



Their prayers were fruitless. — As the midnight eam.G, 



A heavy sleep oppress'd each weary frame. 



In vain they strove against the o'erwhelming load , 



Some power unseen their drowsy lids bestrode. 



They slept, till in the blushing eastern sky 



The bloomy morning oped her dewy eye : 



Then wakening wide they sought the ravish'd bed, 



But lo ! the hapless Margaret was fled ; 



And never more the weeping train were doom'd 



To view the false one, in the deeps intomb'd. 



The neighbouring rustics told that in the niglit 



They heard such screams, as froze them v.ith affright ; 



And many an infant at its mother's breast, 



Started dismayed, from its unthinking rest. 



And even now, upon the heath forlorn, 



They show the path, down which the fair was borne, 



By the fell demons, to the yawning wave, 



Her own and murder'd lover's mutual grave. 



Such is the tale, so sad, to memory dear, 



Which oft in youth has charmed my listening ear, 



