MISCELLANEOUS. 91 



With tlie stream that sweeps below. Divinely swelling 



On the still air, the distant waterfall 



Mingles its melody ; — and high, above, 



The pensive empress of the solemn night, 



Fitful, emerging from the rapid clouds, 



Shows her chaste face, in the meridian slry. 



Xo wicked elves upon the Warlock-knoll 



Dare now assemble at their mystic revels. 



It is a night, when, from their primrose beds, 



The gentle ghosts of injured innocents 



Are known to rise, and wander on the breeze, 



Or take their stand by the oppressor's couch, 



And strike grim terror to his guilty soul. 



The spirit of my love might now awake, 



And hold its 'customed converse. 



Mary, lo ! 

 Thy Edward kneels upon thy verdant grave, 

 And calls upon thy name. — The breeze that blows 

 On his wan cheek, Avill soon sweep over him, 

 In solemn music, a funereal dirge, 

 ^^'ild and most sorrowful. — His cheek is pale, 

 The worm that preyed upon thy youthful bloom, 

 It cankered green on his. — Xow lost he stands, 

 The ghost of what he was, and the cold dew 

 Which bathes his aching temj)les gives sure omen 

 Of speedy dissolution.— Mary, soon 

 Thy love will lay his pallid cheek to thine, 

 And sweetly will he sleep with thee in deatlu 



LINES, 



Written of'er reading some of his oivn earlier Sonnets. 



Yes, my stray steps have wander'd, wander'd far 

 From thee, and long, heart-soothing Poesy ! 

 And many a flower, which in the passing time 

 !My heart hath regisLer'd. nipp'd by the chill 

 Of uhdeserv'd neglect, hath shrunk and died. 



