THE HAMILTON ASSOCIATION. 63 
‘© Hurrah! hurrah! well ride the dead ; 
The bride, the bride is come ; 
And soon we reach the bridal bed, 
For Helen, here’s my home.” 
Reluctant on its rusty hinge, 
Revolved an iron door, 
And by the pale moon’s setting beam 
Were seen a church and tower. 
With many a shriek and cry whiz round, 
The birds of midnight, scared, 
And rustling like autumnal leaves 
Unhallow’d ghosts were heard. 
O’er many a tomb and tombstone pale, 
He spurr’d the fiery horse, 
Till sudden at an open grave 
He checked the wondrous course. 
The falling gauntlet quits the rein, 
Down drops the casque of steel, 
The cuirass leaves his shrinking side, 
The spur his gory heel. 
The eyes desert the naked skull, 
The mould’riny flesh the bone, 
*Till Helen’s lily arms entwine 
A ghastly skeleton. 
The furious barb snorts fire and foam, 
And with a fearful bound, 
Dissolves at once in empty air, 
And leaves her,on the ground. 
Half seen by fits, by fits half heard, 
Pale spectres flit along, 
Wheel round the maid in dismal dance 
And howl the funeral song. 
‘© B’en when the heart ’s with anguish cleft, 
Revere the doom of heaven; 
Her soul is from her body reft, 
Her spirit be forgiven !” 
A writer of ballads pitched in a different key, but worthy to 
rank with Lenore in excellence, was Macaulay. It is now half a 
century since his Lays of Ancient Rome first appeared. Their 
brilliant author was then at his best as essayist, reviewer and orator. 
His old antagonist, Prof. Wilson, of Edinburgh, gave them in 
“Blackwood” a hearty greeting. ‘“‘ What!” he says. ‘“ Poetry from 
Macaulay? Ay, and why not? The House hushes itself to hear him 
even though Stanley is the cry! If he be not the first of critics 
(spare our blushes) who is? Name the young poet who could have 
written the Armada. The young poets all want fire ; Macaulay is 
