338 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
HAROLD anv TOSTI, .- 
Al Tragedy, in three Acts, with Chorus. 
Aneenee fi ‘a 212.) 
Scene. The same ves: ue banquet prepared 
in the ball. 
Editha. E lofty arches, in your vast 
( Extering.) inclosure ‘ 
‘The soul seems lost—a tread, a sigh, a word, 
Falls on the startled ear sith hollower mur- 
mur 
Ye tall grey pillars, down whose chilly sides 
A creeping dew distils, whose slender forms 
Brandish their branchy arms, and tufted 
heads, 
Like woods upon the misty mountain-top, 
In ceaseless gloom—-Ye windows dim with 
achments, 
Thro’ whose stain’d mail the day is scarcely 
twilight, 
And whence the azure sky, or golden cloud, 
& rarely seen—-that shudder to the blast, 
And teach the suilen echoes of theshall 
To shriek by fits a soul-appalling elank—= 
Ye long-drawn avenues, athwart whose aisles 
Oft by the gleam of the discolowr’d moons 
hght, 
During their dark and cloudy hours of free- 
dom, 
The ghosts of past possessors glide in silence, 
Whence nor the winter-fire, nor summers 
sun, 
Can chase this cheerless and unsocial cool- 
hess : 
Ye were not form’d for deeds ae revelry, 
For joyous pomp, for music, dance, or feast. 
Tho’ strewn with flowers and rushes, the’ 
adorn’d 
With all this gilded pageantry of plate, 
Ye seem far fitter for some doleful scene 
Of endless woem—to hold the warrior’s corse, 
When wife and daughter weep upon his 
wounds, 
And helpless vassals, mute, with folded arms 
Stand by, and view the spectacle of grief, 
While minstrels sound o’er his unhearing 
clay 
The solemn hearse-song. Here, within some 
; nook, 
Might rise the virgin’s tomb, whose lever 
bled 
By hostile spears, and whom a wailing mo- 
ther, 
Ox silent-grieving father, vainly moans: 
She is Siguna’s prey, and comes not back. 
© |! Edward, Edward, such will be my lot 
If thou be not sincere. 
‘I feel as I could die, and at my death 
A father and a mother too would mourn 
With lasting sorrow ; for I am their all. 
*Tis long, “tis very long, 1 have not seen 
them. 
How ina stranger’s house one learns to feel 
The value ofa home! My uncle loves me, 
4nd is most kind to mee=his little Siegwin 
I nurse and fondle with a sister's love 
Harold and Tosti, a Tragedy. 
[May i, 
But I have here no mother in whose ear . 
To pour my cares, my doubts, my anxious 
bodings, 
And I must weep alone and in concealment. 
When shall I be with her again?—I want 
her. 
Perhaps I never shall behold her more. 
My father has not come so often lately, 
And may not now return.—What armed maa 
Stalks hither, like a god, majestie, calm, 
But with aseeking eye, and hearkening ear? 
Is it my father’s spirit?, No: °tis he. 
O come my father—let me clasp thy feet, 
And thank thee for this welcome, heaven- 
tim’d visit. 
Pour calm and comfort on my troubled soul. 
Testi, Comfort |! What mean’st thou, child, 
by words of comfort ? 
When we have done our duty, and the fate 
That we deserve not faHs upon our heads, 
I know no comfort but to bear it bravely. 
I come to snatch thee hence, and with thy 
mother — 
To take thee to her father’s court in Flan- 
ders: 
Then will I think of vengeance. Come 
along :- 
There are no moments granted for delay. 
Thus strangely arm'd, the servants of the 
castle 
Took me, itseems, for one of Edward's train, 
And let me pass unquestion’d; but should, 
Harold 
-Find I am here, E knew his coward soul 
Witl borrow some assassin’s arm to slay me, 
And give thee up to be the whore of Edwards 
Edi. Harold is not the base dissembling 
villain 
For which thy passion takes him. My dear 
father, 
Indeed himself has pleaded with the king, 
Most anxiously he pleaded for thy pardon. 
Z. Pardon! What pardon does thy father _ 
need? 
I knew not when thy unele call’d thee 
hither, 
To cheer his lonely grief, as he pretended, 
That Edward lov’d thee. Harotd knew it 
well; 
Yet at the monarch’s table scrupled not 
To praise the Danish tyrant, Hardiknute, 
Whose lust made every nobie house a brethel. 
He mark’d the joy of Edward at his words: 
He told the king that thou wast harbour’d 
here ; 
And then invited him to this vile visit. 
This dar’d he even in thy father’s presence. 
£di. Perhaps he thought that Edward 
' meant to make 
Editha queen. 
7 He knew that Edward did not ; 
For Harold’s counsel nam’d the embassy 
‘That but three days ago set of for Denmark, 
To bring our monarch his intended bride. 
Edi. ThenI am lost. 
7. Know’st thou the pandar now ? 
What wonder if I started frem my seat, 
Aad, 
= 
o 
CC 
