PtJBLJC TLJBRA.RIJB», REFERENCE LIBRARY. This Book must not be -t^kq^ ,from the room. "nT^ 3 I. POEMS. A POEM, ON TIIK DESTRUCTION OF THE WELSFl DYNASTY. RAYMOND: A METRICAL ROMANCE, AND VARIOUS MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Bv C. C. BENTLEY. Envy not the Poet's name, ^ Darken no) his dawn of fame; ♦ •Tis the guerdon of a mind, 'Bove the thralls oi earthly kind ; 'Tis the haven for a soul, Where the storms of genius roll; It often lights him to his doora, A halo round an early tomb ! KOBEBT MONTOOMJJar. NEWARK-UPON-TRENT : PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY S. AND C. RIDGE; AND SOLD BY MB. JOY, LONDON; MR. DUNN, NOTTINGHAM; MR. E. DBUBY, LINCOLN; AND MR. RIDGE, GRANTHAM. 1830. C2> w. ? TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LADY C. DENISON, THIS WORK IS, BY PERMISSION, MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY HER LADYSHIPS, MOST GRATEFUL, AND OBLIGED, HUMBLE SERVANT, C. C. BENTLEY. PREFACE, It has become an established usage for Authors, somewhat apologetically, to declare what impetus drove their first productions on the "world's wide stage;" but, on this subject, the writer of the subsequent pages, will say no- thing 5 — she sends her early offspring forth, with all its "imperfections on its head,'* in the full confidence, that, should it deserve well, it will infallibly vm secure support and patronage, from the generous Sons of Albion, whose fame stands unrivalled, as the fosterers of the Arts, and who are ever ready to extend the right hand of benevolence to the children of virtue, of whatever station, or whatever clime. She, how- ever, feels a maternal anxiety for the fate of her work, on its public appear- ance; well knowing the wide disparity of opinion there frequently exists between friends, and critics^ — and though she would not owe, even the breath of fame (were that possible) to party, or partiality, but would stand or fall, ac- cording to her merit, yet she would wish that justice might be tempered IX with lenity ; — and, consequently, begs to solicit the indulgence of her coun- trymen on many of the minor pieces; which, (however they may fail in exe- cution or expression) are certainly the breathings of deep and unsophisticated feeling, the effusions of a mind, too fatally true, to the higher pictures of romance ; fatally ! because it led her to form ideas of persons, and things, unreal — such, as indeed, never may exist generally : it was a beautiful de- lusion, more beautiful than truth while it lasted ; but such error, must always entail, on its unhappy dupe, a period of melancholy despondency, whenever the dark reality rushes on the mind — which can only terminate, when she shall acquire a true, and practical know- ledge of the world, and its ways. The Poem styled " Cambria/* the Author apprehends will disappoint the expectations of many, who may, from its title, have taught themselves, to anticipate a regular detail of the history of the times ; an heroic description of all the din and circumstance of war; such, may smile contemptuously on a simple tale, combined of a few principal events; it may also possibly be objected too, that the subject is unpopular : the union of the two nations, however effected, being " a consummation devoutly to be wished" by every English heart : but while the patriot joys in the security and aggran- dizement of his country, surely the generous and philanthropic bosom will not repress the awakening sigh of sympathy, over the wounds of a pros- trate nation — over the extinguished spark of liberty — -so long, so dearly, and so proudly cherished — even though its sons were her political foes. Of the other principal poem, the Author will forbear to speak : the whole, such as they are, have proved a grateful amusement; and, not unfrequently, a fount of consolation, xu to a mind, but too vitally sensible ot the pain, which springs from its own, and others woe. It now rests with a British public, to bid her harpings glow with all the energy of gratitude, and gladness; or feink away, in sorrowful complainings. CONTENTS. Page. Cambria, Part First 1 Part Second 13 Notes to Cambria 25 Raymond 29 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. An Address written for a Sunday School Examination 7 1 An evening address for the same 75 To Content 77 Lines occasioned by the death of her Grace, Georgiana, the Duchess of Newcastle 79 On the same ■. 80 To a Friend ., 82 To a Relative - 84 Forget me not , 86 Song 88 XIV contp:nts. Page. Woman 90 Farewell 92 To one recommending the perusal of Rogers's " Pleasures of Memory" 93 Lines written on a Blank page of Rogers's " Plea- sures of Memory," after having read the same . . 94 Lines written for one suffering a disappointment of the Heart 95 Serenade, " to the Spanish Air of IsaheV 97 Acasto 99 A Portrait 99 Lines composed by Moonlight 101 On a Smile 102 On Woman's Love H)4 Envy 105 To Miss Linwood 106 To Isabel 109 Joan d'Arc 112 To a Redbreast caught in a Window 114 Youth 115 Absent Friends 119 Fragment 123 Lines, written during the pervasion of a fit of M^J^ncholy 123 CONTENTS. XV Page. To Sarah . • 125 I'o ##»**# 126 Thou beautiful dream of life's beautiful morning . . 127 There is a voice in every thing 128 Sonnet on hearing a Blackbird sing, late in the month of December, 1827 129 I'll think on thee 130 Lines occasioned by the Authoress being asked if she should not have pleasure in visiting Newstead Abbey, and the (omb of Byron 132 Stanzas ., 133 Lines written in the prospect of Death J 35 The social Fire 137 My dear, my native Village Bells 139 Ellen 141 Lines " When doth love look most holy ?" 142 Lines written under circumstances of pectdiar affliction 144 To a Friend who' accidentally saw the foregoing, and reproved the Authoress for indulging the melan- choly strain 145 Mary 147 I sigh and think, &c , ... 149 XVI CONTENTS. Page. To a Friend who was inconsolable for the loss of her beautiful Sister 151 To a Lute 133 Lines 154 Lines written on a contemplated separation from congenial Society 160 To a Friend 162 Patriotism 165 CAMBRIA. PART I. When bold Llewellyn 'mid th' unequal strife For glorious Freedom, yielded his brave life— When tyrant Edward, with ferocious band 1 Spread woe, and desolation o'er the land ; Fair Cambria wept, with agonizing pain, Her glory faded, and her heroes slain : Those chiefs, whose ancestry, had greatly stood, Nor deign'd to mingle, with ignoble blood. Lords of fair Albion, ere the Danish train. Leagued with the Saxon, drove them from the plain Oppress'd, not humbled, from their mighty foes To where the western mountains, proudly rose, B Z CAMBRIA. By their lov'J Goddess, (beauteous Freedom) led, Each antient Briton, high, indignant sped ; And though awhile, each wept, with bitter tears, The vernal plains, which knew his infant years. Yet they felt strong, since still by Freedom blest. And soon contentment, calm'd each swelling breast; Soft habit, reconcil'd his mountains wild. And nature's sunbeams, o'er his rallies smil'd — Thus ages sped — for the' by late decay. The primogenitors had pass'd away, Yet sons, on sons, brave as their sires arose, To shield their liberties, and guard their laws : An uncorrupted, warlike, generous band. The strength, the grace, the glory of the land ! But now, sad Cambria weeps 'neath mighty woes, Wounds which no balm may soothe, nor ages close : Yet scornful lightnings, gather on her crest, And giant indignation, swells her breast . She calls with potent voice, from hill to hill. Her native bards,— her bards attend her will— CAMBRIA. Her heart-strings glow, with strong maternal joy, And tears of feeling, gem her heavenly eye, To view her idol sons — a numerous band. The pride, the praise, the honor of her land ! " While ye survive," the deity confess'd — " Your wretched mother, still will own her blest ! " Now, let each well-belov'd, awake his lyre, ** Let seraph numbers, burst each quiv'ring wire, " First, to the praises of the honor'd dead, " Your princes, patriots, for ever fled — '* Let their high honors, sound aloud, and far, ** Then change the theme, to liberty and war ! " Let the bold strain, reach every Cambrian ear, " And teach our youth their birthright to revere : — " Be each, as erst, the genius to inspire, " Courageous principle, and martial fire — " Then shall the bloody Edward rue the day, "He bore my regal son, in scorn away — 2 *' Yes, e'en this fierce Plantagenet shall see, " The heirs of Brutus, were, and will he Free ! /" b2 4 CAMPIIIA. She ceas'd — an hundrevliharps, obedient run^, An hundred voices, sad responBJve sung— The Lay of the Minstrels. " Sons of .the brave ! who nobly f^l, "In Freedom's righteous cause — " Assist your faithful B^rds |o sw^, " Their tribute of applause : " Though filial tears, of pious woe, proCusejiy flpw* V Yetlepd your pain, "To aid the strain, " Till like your sires — till like your sires— till Uke your sires, ye grow ! " Llewellyn ! by each name endear'd " Of Father — prince — and friend, " Of Godlike race : of truth rever'd — ** Of courage tried— of prowess fear'd — " We mourn thine early end ! CAMBRrjf. 5 " But still as living, so iii death, " In honor's cause, thou yield'st thy breath, " In glory's arms thoii lifes : — " Better to fall thus, nobly brave, " Than mea^ily Mve, a regal slave ! *' Then to his name, witli loud acclaim ! " Let deathless praise ! — ^let deathless praise '.—let death- less praise ariisie ! " Cambria show'd, what valour dan, ** Amid th* unequal, bloody fray ! " Steel to steel — and man to main, *' Cambria, had won the day— " The blood, the thirsty Lion sought, " Was nobly sold— and' dearly bought — " Each heroic heart, with patriot ardour glow'd ; " For his native laws, " For Freedom's cause '• " For his babdsi— his wife— " Amid the strife, O CAMBRIA. " His generous life-blood flow'd ! " Then let each name, *' Through earth's wide bound, " And heav'ns profound " Be borne by Fame, on wings of flame !— On wings of flame !" " And shall the hand which crimson'd o'er, " Our earths with gore ; ** To mock our fate, " With ruthless hate, " Its tyrant power retain ? " Forbid it Freedom ! — Honour I — Fame ! " Virtue ! — and every sacred name— " Shall a son of the brave, " Ever stoop as a slave, " Under Edward's inglorious chain ? " With the lives of your Fathers, the plains are yet gory, " Then follow I— then follow !— to Freedom and glory !" CAMBRIA. Valour, flash'd from every eye, Patriot ardour brightly glow'd, " As our Fathers liv'd" they cry, " So will we, or like them die, " And write our names in blood l" But ah ! the muse must tell a tale Might bleach, e'en mirth's bright rose-buds pale, To Edward's ear, on wings of mom, The Bards' inspiring notes were borne — And well he knew, their high controul, Their mighty influence o'er the soul ; He saw, with indignation, and surprize. While all the daemon, kindled in his eyes, The conquest of his pride, the Cambrian land. Receding in the distance, from his hand — The horrid purpose, blacken'd o'er his face, To extirpate, these war-springs of their race : Design, but worthy an infernal breast. Where war's wild harpies, built their horrid nest ! 8 CAMBRIA. Whilst the gentle dews of night, Softly, through the vallies stealing ; And the fair Diana's light, Wak'd each breast to faptur'd feeling ; Then each Bard, comfiienc'd his theme. Sweetly true, to recent sorrow — Oh ! how little did they dream. Of the bloody deeds, of morrow ! Apollo ! how could'st thou depart. To thine own, na warning lending — When thou knew'st, each generous heart. Unconscious of the ill impending' ? They had wateh'd thy parting rays, Saw th«e callmly, btightly Smiling-^ Oh ! thou ruler of the bays. Thou wert fashion'd for beguiling \ When the rosy-fing^r'd day, Had reht the veil of night, away— CAMBRIA. 9 As the bolt, from heav'n sped, (Ere tis seen, its victim's dead,) From secret ambush, rush'd the foe. And laid Apollo's children low : Unarm'd — defenceless — 'mid the sanguine strife. Each yielded to his savage butcher's knife. Edward ! not all the fountains of the main. Though they should weep, drop, after drop a'.ray Can e'er obliterate, the crimson stain, Drawn o'er thy fame, that sacrificial day ! END OF PART I. CAMBRIA, PART THE SECOND. Awake, thy last sad voice, my harp ! The voice of wo, and wild despair : Awake, resound thy latest lay, Then sleep in silence, ever niair." BURNS. CAMBRIA. PART 11. Where Cader-Idris, 3 lifts his brow sublinoe, Which mocks, the desolating hand of Tijrie ; A seeming-, venerable man appeiars. Bending beneath accumulated years : Time's silver blossoms, on his breast descending, A breast, whose finest chords, with grief are rendiiig- To heav'n his tearful eye, imploring turns, While thus, his fate, the wretched victim mourns : " Ah ! why did I, by fate's s;everer law, ** Escape the fataLdooir, of all my race ? '* Since thou, my prince ! my master ! art laid low — • *• Since I, no more, must see that honor'd face ? 14 CAMBRIA. " Oft have I fondly, o'er thy cradle hung, " And sooth'd thy slumbers, with my warbling lyre ;- *' Oft to thy youth, the deeds of heroes sung, " And fondly fan'd each emulous desire : " 'Twas my sweet task, to soothe thy hours of care, " Or, when pale sorrow, shook thy royal breast, *• Far, far to drive, the daemon of despair, " And hush with melody, thy griefs to rest. ** But now my prince, alas ! one only lay, " Befits thee — noblest, of the good, and brave ! ** That, shall thy faithful Urswic, sadly pay, " Then sink Llewellyn ! o'er thy houor'd grave." A pause ensued ; but it was brief— A moment of the keenest grief : The wretched mourner, felt each chain, Which bound to life, and charm'd his pain, Was Bunder'd by the hand of fate — He stood alone, and desolate : — Not one> in the wide world, to bless— Or pluck the barb from deep distress — CAMBRIA. On the wild rock, forsaken, and forgot, He sunk, and wept his own, his country's lot — Then sad uprose, with trembling^ limbs, and slow, And wak'd his harp, to notes of melting woe : Far o'er the list'ning hills, they fled away, And every pitying echo, sung the lay — 'Twas nature's chorus ! nature's bosom bled, O'er Freedom, vanish'd with the mighty dead : O'er Cambria, prostrate 'neath the victor's heel — Bleeding, 'neath thousand swords, of sharpest steel ; Rifled, abandon'd, and exposed to shame — Who erst, stood proudest, in the ranks of Fame ! But ah ! the o'erwhelmning floods of memory, gush Deep o'er his soul, with devastating rush — The bursting strings, declare his mighty pain, Until his hand, denies to wake the strain : His every nerve, quakes with convulsive shock. Again he sinks upon the barren rock ! 16 CAMBRIA. See ! where a "graceful youth, with languid eye. Ascends with pain, the steep declivity ! Drawn by the spell, of Urswic's heav'n-ton'd lyre, He seeks the hand, which bade those notes aspire . Still on the "ground — the wretched mourner lies. His fine-wrought soul, dissolv'd in agonies— Absorb'd in anguish — bitter as the smart, Of those wild pangs, which tear life's strings apart ; With kind solicitude, ihe stranger bends, And all his aid to raise the suff 'rer lends — Who, on his beauteous visage, fix'd a gaze, Replete with grief — with wonder, and amaze ! Nor calmer were the thoughts, or looks that stole, Across the junior's lineaments, or soul — " Urswic ! — and can it be ?— am I so blest ? Do yet these eyes, on Urswic's features rest ? Oh, yes ! though chang'd, I ken that face again. No other hand, could wake that seraph strain- Tell me thou honor'd man, by what blest power, Thou did'st escape, in Edward's bloody hour ?" CAMBRIA, 17 " Kind, courteous stranger '. why this seeming care, " For one, the veriest victim of despair ? " By chance alone, 1 'scap'd the happier doom, *' Which plung'd my fated brethren in the tomb ; " I, yet survive, one painful debt to pay, " While sorrovvr frets, my heart's last strings away." " — I bless thee, Urswic ! thou, art faithful still ! " Such, would have been, thy royal master's will — " That thou, should'st pour a requiem, o'er his bier ; " That thou should'st shed for him, affection's tear ; ** But not, that thou should'st droop to grief a prey, " Until it rend vitality away!" " Stranger ! whoe'er thou art," the bard rejoin'd, " Thy words drop incense, o'er ray bleeding mind — " Fain would I know thee, since, with me, thou weeps " The fate of him, who all unconscious sleeps :— " Thy looks, recall a face to memory dear, " One, who (if living,) pours the bitter tear ; " But of the other sex — as fair as truth, ** My honor'd master's love, in happier youth ; c 18 CAMBRIA, " Whom, for his country's weal, the prince resign'd, *' Although the idol of his royal mind — ** O ! she was worthy, of the proudest throne, " Between the frigid, and the torrid zone— *' Oft have her heav'nly eyes, in rapture wept, " Whilst o'er my harp, this ag^ed hand hath swept" High beat the stranger's heart, a sudden blush Stain'd his ingenuous cheek, with crimson flush — Anon, its hue was chang'd to ashy pale, While thus with tears, he told his anguish'd tale. *' Urswic ! I see, not e'en this deep disguise, " Can veil my person, from thy searching eyes— " Then view the wretched Agnes ! sport of fate ! " A creature fatherless — and desolate — " On Snowden's heights, my sire, and brothers fell, " To me, one came the fatal news to tell— *' Frantic Avith grief, I arm'd me as a knight, " And rush'd impetuous, to the raging fight ; " By thy lov'd master, (though unknown) I stood, " And fought, by him inspired, through seas of blood- CAMBRIA. 19 " Until o'erwhelmn'd, amid the savage foe, *' The hand of curs'd De Frampton, laid him low. " Oh ! with what joy, would I have died to save " My prince — my husband, from the early grave ! ** My husband Urswic ! for 'twas thine to know, " That he was mine, by every tender law ; " Ere cruel policy, compell'd his arms, 4 " To clasp an Elenora Montfort's charms — " Thou know'st, e'en then, from me no chidings rose, " Although for ever, fled my heart's repose ! — " Well, well I knew, his fondest love was mine ! " I bless'd the patriot prince, who could resign, " With soul exalted, all his dearest joys, " To bless his land, and shield her liberties : — ** Had he been less, 't had ne'er been his to move, " My proud young bosom's, deep, unearthly love ; " For I could scorn the craven, who withdraws " Whate'er his suffering, from his country's cause. " Such was not he, the hero patriot, sage, " The pattern, boast, and glory of his age j c2 20 CAMBRIA. " For whom I've liv'd— and soon my latest sig^h, " Shall tell thee, Urswic, 'tis for him I die ! •' Some friendly angel, whispers in mine ear, " Come, Agnes come, thy mortal hour is near" " Live thou, great bard, and o'er my lifeless clay, " Oh ! deign to pour, thy melancholy lay ; — " With dear Llewellyn's, let my requiem rise " Above the hills, e'en to the bounding skies." With admiration, pity and amaze — On her, sad Urswic fixed his tearful gaze ; Whilst sorrow chok'd his voice, he thrice essay'd, With soothing words, to cheer the noble maid ; But ere the kind intent, an utterance found, She fell insensate on the stony ground : Th' etherial tenant, of that spotless breast. Had flown to other climes, of blissful rest ; Its proper sphere ! — so exquisite a mind, Was never, for this nether world design'd— Where thorns, and briers, obstruct the tedious wy. And rend the bosom's finest strings away. CAMBRIA. 21 Still, by the lovely Agnes, Urswic stood, Lethargic torpor, circlinij through his blood ; Awhile, as one who drinks of Lethean dew, The mournful past, receded from his view : Nay, present, future, in that hour were lost ! As, when the mighty main, by whirlwinds tost. Leaps to the heav'ns, commingling earth and sky, In wild, terrific, dreadful anarchy— Until fair Reason, o'er the burning brain, Return'd, to re-assert, her wonted reign. Then, as the spirits of the reprobate. Who, having pass'd through Pluto's iron gate, Wake from insensibility, to woe, No cheering beam of future hope to know — Sad consciousness, with overwhelmning might. Burst o'er his soul, and gave the past to light ! He then reraember'd, Agnes' last desire. And wak'd obedient his angel Lyre. 22 CAMBRIA. ,, " Requiem. " Noblest, of the good, and brave ! ** Whom, not a nation's tears might save " Hear, thy faithful Minstrel pay, *' To thy manes, his last lay — " While he rings, his own death knell, ** Pour to thee, his sad farewell ! ** And thou too — fairest of the fair I " Beauteous victim, of despair I ** Lovliest flower, of spotless truth — ** Wither'd in the bloom of youth ! " Whose deep love, no power could quell- ** First of women ! fare — thee — well ! " Noblest pair, by love united ! ** Hapless pair, by fortune blighted ! " Both shall live, in deathless story — " Both shall live, to fame and glory ! ** Future Bards, your praise shall tell ; " Llewellyn ! Agues i" * * * * * CAMBRIA. 23 fare — ye — well — he would have said — But the ag^grieved, soul had fled — To that far distant, happy shore, Where sorrow, pain, and grief are known no more I Urswic ! thou chiefest, of the tuneful band, The pride of Cambria's once happy land — Blessing thy fealty, and affection true. Permit an humbler bard, to breathe adieu ! NOTES CAMBRIA. Note 1, page 1, Hue 3. " When tyrant Edward, with ferocious band." Llewellyn Prince of Wales, had been closely connected with the Moulfort family in the reign of Henry the 3id, and though Leicester and his faction fell before the vigourous arm of prince Edward, yet the remains of hostility then engendered continued to exist in the bosoms of both princes ; and on the accession of Edward in 1272, Llewellyn refused to pay him the claim of homage as his superior lord. Rightly anticipating the consequence of such refusal, he in order to strengthen himself against a prince, so confessedly warlike and powerful, resolved on forming an alliance, with the remains of the Montfort family ; and accordingly in 1276 demanded in marriage, the liandof Elcnor, daughter of the late earl of Leicester, then a protegee, of Philip King: of France. The French King acceding to his request, 26 NOTES TO CAMBRIA. Elenor embarked for Wales, escorted by her brollier Aumeri — but the vessel being- captured at sea, the betrothed princess was sent a state prisoner to the court of Edward, and her brother committed to Corfe Castle. A war ensued, very disadvantageous to the Welsh, and on the establishment of a peace by treaty, one of the principal articles was, the acknowledgment of Llewellyn's allegiance to the English The oath of fealty taken, Edward delivered up Elenor, whose nuptials with the Welsh prince were celebrated at the English court •with extraordinary pomp and magnificence, in the presence of the King, and principal nobility. The peace between the two sovereigns, remained inviolable until 1281, when the Welsh in consequence of the rapacity, extortion and violence of the English officers, who bloated with all the insolence of authority, thought of nothing but oppressing the unhappy natives, applied to their prince for redress, Llewellyn, made frequent, but ineffectual remonstrances to Edward : when the Welsh driven to desperation, resolved either to compel justice with the sword, from their powerful foe, or nobly perish on the wreck of their liberties. Edward on hearing their intention, assembled a mighty army, and vowed to annihilate the government of Wales, and extir- pate every vestige of its antient independence : he accordingly in the spring 1282 marched into the country ; when Llewellyn and David his brother acting in concert, retired to their fastnesses in Snowden, where they succeeded in cutting off near 1300 of the invaders in tlieir passage through the woods. Prince David still remaining in Snowden with a portion of the army to guard this important iiold, tlic otlicr part with Llewellyn at their head, marched through Radnorshire NOTES TO CAMBRIA. 27 against the main body of the English, but being surprised by a pow- erful detachment under the command of Mortimer, himself was slain with 2000 of his followers and his whole army totally routed. After the death of their sovereign, the Welsh made little effort, to support their tottering state ; many to avoid worse consequences submitted to a power they were unable to resist. Tlie unhappy David retired to the woods and fastnesses of the mountains, and after being for a long time hunted from hill to hill, and suffering the greatest dis. tresses, was at last delivered up by his false countrymen, and Edward to his eternal disgrace ordered this sovereign prince, to be hanged, drawn and quartered : — a punishment doubtless merited, by his exertions to defend the rights of his native country, and the throne of his inheritance. Note 2, page 3, line 18. " He bore my regal son, in scorn away — " Adam de Frampton, by whom Llewellyn was slain, cut off his head, and bore it as a grateful present to the sanguinary Edward, tlien encamped at Conway. The king, immediately sent the dishonoured head to London, where it was carried through the streets in a cart, on the point of a lance, crowned with a silver circlet, in contempt of a prophecy of Merlin, who had predicted that one of the race of Llewellyn should ride through the streets of London with a crown upon his liead, and be the restorer of Brutus' empire in Britain. It was subsequently, placed on a pillory in Clieapside, from whence it 28 NOTES TO CAMBRIA. was conveyed to the Tower, and crowned in solemn mockery with a wreath of ivy, and then by order of the khig, affixed on the point of a staff, erected for the purpose on the top of that fortress. Note 3, page 13, Hne 1. " Where Cader-Idris, lifts his brow suhlime,' Cader-Idris, one of the most stupendous mountains of North Wales, situate in Merionethshire. Note 4,^age 19, line 7.— See note 1. RAYMOND. ■ Night ! even in tlie zenith of her dark domain, Is sunshine, to the colour of my fate." YOUNG. RAYMOND 1 HE clang of battle, died away. In murmers o'er the bounding^ main ; — And Cynthia rose, with silver ray — Across the deep ensanguin'd plain : She look'd as gay — as fair — as bright — As though it were a festal night ! She reck'd not, 'twas the feast of death, Where many a hero gasp'd for breath ; She heeded not, the rending groans, The bitter sighs, and piercing moans, Which rung from many a bleeding heart. That stung, with more than mortal smart 32 RAYMOND. Insulting Memory's ruthless hand In that tremendous houi* — Pourtray'd the soldier's native land. His home, his peaceful bower ! She show'd his frantic, widow'd love — He heard his orphans cry ! She bade his honest bosom prove, 'Twas bitterness to die ! Earl Raymond, in whose noble breast, The flames of martial valour glow'd — Sought, in the arms of balmy rest, Release from care's oppressive load : — When lo ! a maiden's touching wail, Was borne upon the gentle gale ; Such plaints, alas ! as only rise, When all we've lov'd below the skies. Hath vanish'd from the mortal sight, In death's eternal starless night. RAYMOND. 33 The Warrior rose, and bent his way, To whence he heard the sound — Where lo 1 a dying soldier lay, Stretch'd on the blood-stain'd ground : Beside him, knelt in frantic mood, A lovely Highland Maid; Who strove, to staunch life's ebbing flood. With her own scarf of plaid. The moon-beam, kiss'd her bosom fair, White, as her mountain's snow, Veil'd only, by her golden hair, But gem'd, with tears of woe. Her cheek was pale — where nature kind. Had lavish'd every grace ; Each virtue, that exalts the mind, Beam'd in her angel face. The Earl too, knelt in reverence by. And gently rais'd the sufferer's head, D 34 RAYMOND. Who, fix'd on Heaven, his glazing eye, And on his child, a blessing shed : — ** Protect her, thou Eternal power !" " In fervent prayer, the soldier sigh'd ; ** Support her, in this dreadful hour, . " And let no future ills, betide ; " Oh ! guard her weak, defenceless youth, " 'Mid danger's thorny way, ** And from the paths of holy Truth, " Oh, let her never stray 1"~— — ** -— Say ? — Dar'st thou, reverend man, confide *' Thy child to me?" Earl Raymond cried, " By virtue's holy self, I swear ! " I'll shield her, Avith a father's care ; — " Who, shall her virtuous peace molest, *' Shall force his way, through Raymond's breast !" *' Thanks, noble Knight ! her dying Sire, " Accepts the generous vow ; RAYMOND. 35 *' In peace, my life shall now expire ; " Oh, weep not, Marian, now !" He heav'd a sigh — the blood gush'd fast, From his deep wounded breast — Alas, poor Marian I — 'twas his last, Thy Father's e^one to rest ! To safe asylum, o'er the glade, The Earl, withdrew the weeping Maid ; To where, before the birth of mom, Her Sire's belov'd remains were borne, From 'midst the less distinguish'J dead, Promiscuous heap'd, on honour's bed ; His aged limbs, now, decent laid. The rites of sepulture, were paid ; And honours, as beseem the brave. Were paid, around the Wairior's grave ; A monument to mark the spot. The God of War, permitted not : D 2 36 RAYMOND. His thundering voice, with loud alarms, Recall'd each generous chief to arms : Bellowing he rush'd, o'er all the plain, Desiring more, though gorg'd with slain : And omen vultures, scream'd aloud, Impatient in the thirst of blood. Now lance, and spear, and sword and shield. Shone horrid, o'er th' embattled field ; For starting from the couch of night, Sol, shed around terrific light ; Each host, appear'd a grove of flame, Whose fury, nought but blood might tame. As angry lions, strong in might. Fierce rush the combatants to fight ; Like rolling waves, when whirlwinds sweep The stormy surface of the deep ; And steadfast, in the fearful strife. Each seem'd as prodigal of life : For Victory, with delusive mein, 'Mid either host, by turns was seen. RAYMOND. 37 Nor had the cheat, repaid their pain, When night enwrapp'd the broad champaign. Three days, her absent guardian knight, The hapless Marian mourn'd ; The fourth, at morning's early light, That anxious chief return'd : — A stranger she, to gentle sleep, While night yet reign'd in gloom. Had left her couch, to sit and weep. Beside her father's tomb. O'er her fair arm, of stainless snow. Her pallid cheek, reclin'd ; While springing floods, of mighty woe. Burst from her broken mind. Weak— helpless— in a hostile land, With none, to soothe her grief, (For one was absent, whose lov'd hand. Alone might bring relief;) 38 RAYMOND^ She woo'd the friendly hand of death, For erring fame, had told. Her Guardian, paid his life's last breath. Midst many a brave and bold — And still, unconscious be was nigh. She blest bis memory dear, Pour'd o'er his fate, a rending sigh. And virtue's purest tear. Each smote his soul — that precious gem. That blessing on his name. Were worth, a monarch's diadem, Or proudest breath of fame ! He spoke— a faint and feeble cry, Responded to the soimd. The mourner, clos'd her heav'nly eye. And sunk upon the mound. With pain, Earl Raymond, many a week. Despite of all his care. Beheld, upon her lovely cheek, The impress of despair ; RAY\roND. 39 When tlie fair sun unveils his face, When tempests wrap the skies, To g^ild the gloom, he cannot chase, And bid the rainbow rise ; We feel his beauties, such an hour By contrast with the gloom — Far more, thail when supreme in power, He fills th' etherial dome. Such, o'er sweet Marian's fine- wrought soul. Her patron's goodness shone ; Grateful, she struggled to controul The griefs, which bore her down ; Her generous efforts, charm'd the Knight, Who fond, delighted saw Returning tints, of roseate light, Dispel the shades of woe. And now, she shone above compeer, A star of brightest ray. Fair, as the glowing harbinger, That lights the infant day. 40 RAYMOND, A truce ensu'd — the hostile powers. Agreed to stop the mortal flood ; And eight fair months, the winged hours Flew to their goal, unstain'd by blood. Too brief their space — ^yet such relief, Was like the joy, succeeding grief. The sudden calm of rending pain, Or sudden sleep of stormy main : 'Twas welcome, though not full release, Suspended war, not final peace ! For watchfulness, was needful still. To guard from treason, fraud, or ill. The martial Raymond's lofty soul, Own'd deep affection's high controul ! His Marian's worth, his breast inspir'd. And bound the heart, her beauty fir'd ; The hours, on rosy wings flew by. In her belov'd society ; He seem'd to live, but, in her smile, Where feeling shone, devoid of guile. RAYMOND. 41 And fondly longf'd, each name to blend, Protector — patron — lover — friend ! In one, by closer links allied, And make the Highland fair, his bride. And was that Highland bosom cold ? O, no ! — 'twas fram'd of softest mould 'Twas full of sentiment, and truth, Improv'd by all the fire of youth ; To him, was all its ardour given, Her only solace under heav'n : — She blest his vows, and gave her charms, In hymen's temple to his arms. Adjacent, midst a shady wood, A stately castle-fortress stood. Where, safe from scenes of hostile strife. The soldier plac'd his beauteous wife : For by a general's honour chain'd, He still, to rule the camp, remain'd . 42 RAYMOND. Each hour, from duty set apart, He gave the empress of his heart : 'Twas bliss supreme — 'twas heav'n below— For still, some latent charm, Surpris'd the Chief, with sudden glow. In native beauties warm. But joy's fair sun, however bright. Its soul-inspiring ray, Oft, in the gloom of starless night. Will sudden sink away, Alas, that e'er one jealous sigh, One misbelieving fear, Should blight such pure felicity, " And cloud a sky so clear ! In Raymond's ear, the tongue of Fame, Had dar'd, to brand his Marian's name J Told, how a hated rival's arms, Encircled oft, those matchless charms, When her high lord, at honor's post. Was absent, with the distant host ! RAYMOND. 43 He heard, and all his martial breast, Seem'd as by death's cold hand oppress'd ; His brow, sweat drops of agony, And vision fled his glazy eye ; But not so dim, the mental light. One object to th' internal sight. Stood forth, by feverish fancy wrought, A .picture, with distraction fraught ; — That peerless, lovely thing, so late Esteem'd the choicest gift of fate Polluted, self-debas'd he saw, Clasp'd by a rival, thence his foe ! Like a chaf d lion, thence his ire, Gleam'd o'er his livid brow — its fire. Re-lit his rolling eye—his tone. Made his design, and purpose known, More than his language — words half-born, Died on his lip, convuls'd by scorn ; For scorn, with vengeance — pride with grief, Mounting to madness, mock'd relief ! — 44 RAYMOND. But hap'ly, for his sentenc'd wife. The force, of that tempestuous strife, Secur'd her from the dread decree — The forfeit of delinquency. A ruptur'd vein, forbade the blow, Fore'd him reluctant, to forego, His destin'd purpose. — Marian's ear, Soon caught the tale, replete with fear, Of Raymond's sickness — swift she flew, To his encampment — scene not new ! A Soldier's Child— a Soldier's Wife- Yet lov'd she not the scene of strife ; Timid as fahr ! — why sought she then. Her suflTring Lord, 'midst armed men ? Felt she repentance', healing force. Wrought by that power, yclep'd Remorse ? Sought she by kindness, to atone For wrongs, she thought in secret done ? His couch with her repentant tear, To wash from stains, she'd printed there ? RAYMOND. 45 That couch was gain'd, whate'er her mind, Naught earthly, e'er seera'd so refin'd ; To guiltless — tender — chaste — and bright — Her ravish'd husband's dazzled sight. Saw naught but beauty, virtue, love. Which bade his ire forget to move : And soon, her soft attentions stole. The slumbering venom, from his soul, And half he blush'd, whene'er he thought. On pangs by that idea wrought. When first he deem'd her faithless— how 1 Could aught so fair disgrace her vow ? Could he suspect her seeming truth. Sweet Innocence, and blushing Youth ? Could he suspect her angel smile, So seeming bland — so void of guile ! No ! 'twas too much ! — he strove to quell His bosom's agitated swell, Nor with upbraidings, stung the ear. Of her, that bosom lov'd so dear. 46 RAYMOND. But jealousy, can't wholly die, Though it perchance may sleep ; Not seldom, veil'd from human eye, Its rankling course 'twill keep : Yet where the daemon lifts her wand, The dove of peace, takes flight ; Joy's fairest blossoms, 'neath her hand. Droop in eternal blight. The truce was past — the mortal war, Was soon lo be renew'd : The morrow even's vesper star. Was doom'd to rise in blood. Earl Raymond, now to health restor'd, Resum'd his high command. Foremost amidst the brave, he stood. The noblest, of his land : Long ere the dawn, the chief withdrew And sought his Marian's tower, T' indulge a tender brief adieu. Ere sunlight's sickening hour. RAYMOND. 47 But wLo, his feelings shall relate, That heart dissolving- throe ! When as he near'd, his castle g;ate That graceful form, he saw, Clasp'd, in a highland youth's embrace, Prepar'd to ride away — Heard her, while tears roll'd down her face, Intreat a longer stay ? *' Alas !" she cried, " before 'tis night, '• Some dreaded stroke, may tear, ** Forever, from thy Marian's sight, " The one, she loves so dear." The soldier fled— o'er Raymond's breast. Now, full conviction stole ; Madness again, his brain possess'd, And vengeance too his soul : He fiercely drew, his gleaming blade. Which never had, his hand betray'd, And smote the form, he'd lov'd so well. With ghastly Wound— supine, she fell, 48 RAYMOND. He saw IH'e's purple current flow, Deep mingling, with her bosom's snow ; And turn'd away, with anguish'd pain, And wildly, sought the battle plain ; There fought, and won the bloody field, Yet still pursu'd the foe— • 'Gainst mercy's prayer his breast was steel'd 'Gainst all — save ire and woe. He forthwith, led his conquering host. And all his vassals brave, In safety to Old England's coast Across the deep blue wave. The martial hero's laurell'd crown. Fame, plac'd on Raymond's head, And every star, of bright renown. Amidst its foliage shed. He visited his rich domain. His dear paternal halls, But smiling Peace, with all her train, Affrighted fled his walls — RAYMOND* 49 Reflection's, torturing hand, display'd His lov'd, his murder'd Marian's shade I He still, beheld the crimson tide. Deep issuing from her wounded side : Wild anguish, o'er his bosom roll'd, His breast, was torn by woe : — *' Yet did I not," he cried, " behold, *' Around her neck of snow, " The foul adulterer's arm, entwin'd ? *' Did I not, hear her tell, " While sorrow shook her faithless mind, " She lov'd, the daemon well ?" — He then, beheld the vengeance just, Which, in that moment burn'd ; Which sentenc'd, to the silent dust, The wife his bosom mourn'd : — But was there comfort, in the thought ? No ! — memory turn'd away, To those blest scenes, with rapture fraught, Through many a vanish'd day ; £ 50 RAYMOND. When love was faith — and all his breast, 'Neath Marian's heav'nly smile was blest* Yet e'en from thence, no cheering ray, Arose to gild his darksome way — The retrospect, of scenes so fair, But sunk him deeper in despair ! No more, he sought the festive bower, No more, he join'd the mirthful hour j In vain, might music's tones invite, His harrow'd soul, to taste delightj Absorbed by silent, moody woe. He shun'd alike, both friend, and foe. He veil'd beneath a monkish stole. His silver corslet fair ; Exchang'd his helmet, for a cowl, And for a staff, his spear- Then Raymond, left his princely seat, And rov'd from east to west, He sought the child of want's, retreat, And all its woes redress'd : — HAYMOND. 51 Where e'er he mov'd, the widow's prayer, And orphan's balmy sigh, With grateful blessings fiU'd the air. And scal'd the bounding sky : His heart was form'd for deeds of truth And bounty rul'd his hand ; Earl Raymond stood, in pride of youth, The honour of his land ! One eve, what time fair Vesper deigns, Her glories, to display — As o'er Britannia's northern plains, The Earl pursu'd his way ; He met a Knight, with Lady fair, Bound like a culprit slave ; She look'd on Raymond, in despair. And cried ** Oh ! Father save !" The soft appeal, was not in vain, He seiz'd her proud companion's rein, And bad him on his faith, declare, His right, to hold the captive fair 1 B 2 52 RAYMOND. " Away, away 1" — with haughty pride, The fierce Earl Regjinakl, replied ; " Dar'st thou, mad priest ! presume to thwart, " Or probe, the counsels of my heart ? — " Hence ! while my vengeful arm may spare, " In reverence to the garb you wear !" He spurr'd his courser, in disdain — But Raymond's hand, still held his rein , The goaded steed, to breeding true. With sudden whirl, impetuous flew. Hurling its proud, and lordly trust, With foul concussion in the dust : He rose, with imprecations dire, And drew his sword with vengeful ire ; Nor, was the noble Raymond slow. To meet his fierce insulting foe ! He cast his priestly vest, aside, And stood array'd in martial pride : In form a Mars, in air, and face. Breathing Apollo's finish'd grace. RAYMOND. 53 Determin'd as some mig'hty rock, That braves the elemental shock :■ — Amazement, fiU'd his foe-man's eyes. To see him burst his deep disguise ! Then each in combat fierce, engag'd. And doubtful long the conflict wag'd : — The captive fair, with tearful eye. Distraught by fear, sate trembling by. The other's aims each parried still, With dext'rous scientific skill, Until his adversary's blade In Raymond's side, an opening made; But not momentous : — fate soon gave, Atoning vengeance, to his glave, For soon he sprung, with agile bound And to his heart, an entrance found ; — He fell ! — and while hie mortal sight, Was sinking, in eternal night ; Deep curses hung upon his breath, Half ultcr'd, half suppress'd, b) death ; 54 RAYMOND. But they were lost on him, who stood, And shed in virtue's cause, his blood ! He, turning to the Lady bright, Unbound her fetter'd charms, Who, courteous thank'd her champion knight. Half swooning in his arms. <* Oh ! bear me gentle knight again," She said to Osmond's hall, From whence, the wretch thine arm hath slain, l"his day his daughter stole. Fair Evelina's charms, inspir'd. Earl Reginald's proud breast ; And all his soul, with passion fir'd, Too fierce to be repress'd : The noble maiden, scorn'd his love, And all his suit denied ; She vow'd, by every saint above, She ne'er would be his bride : — Indignant at her high disdain, He swore, her pride should bow ; RAYMOND, 55 And sought by treacherous wile to gain, The object of his vow ! That day, as o'er the neighbouring plain, The maiden chanc'd to stray ; Assisted by a ruffian train. He bore her bound away ! Now, on the weary trav'llei-'s sight, Proud battlements arise, Illumin'd by the queen of night, Bright blending with the skies : — The warder, blows a ringing blast, The heavy draw-bridge falls 5 Again, (each well-known portal past,) She treads her father's halls : — The baron, blest the valiant knight. And o'er his darling's head. The soul-warm tear of true delight With fond affection shed. 56 RAYMONI>. Lord Osmond, was a borderer, Renown'd for wealth and power. But more for her, his daughter dear^ Britannia's northern flower ! Sole" fount, of all his hopes on earth, His solace and his pride ; For in the hour, which saw her birth. His beauteous consort died. Six days a princely feast he ^ave. In honor of his guest ; And all the neighb'ring fair, and brave, To share his banquet j)rest :-— He bad the sweetly vocal shell, The silver sounding lyre, With deepest tones of rapture swell. And burst each quivering wire : He bath'd Mirth's laughing, rosy check, In cups of sparkling wine ; And bade each youth the myrtle seek. To weave amid the vine. RAYMOND. 57 Earl Raymond's soul, forgot its grief ; Here found from woe, a sweet relief : — Again he mov'd, with airy bound, 'Mid smiling pleasure's frolic rouud -. — Fair Evelina, held a spell, Whose power, could all his transports quell ! Her potent smile, could e'en remove, The image of his bleeding love ; He mark'd the virtues, that combin'd To dignify, her noble mind ; He mark'd the ray of feeling, bright. Which warra'd her eye, of chasten'd light ; An eye, whose soul inspiring thrill, Bound each beholder, to its will. Earl Raymond sought, and won the fair. Who, all his wishes crown'd ; Her tender love subdued his care, And heal'd each bleeding wound : Lord Osmond, blest his children twain, The objects of his pride j 58 RAYMOND. When Raymond, to his own domain, Convey'd her, as his bride. Again, the friends of early youth, Re-trod his native halls ; And friendship, virtue, peace and truth. Abode within his walls. Twelve months, by bliss were counted o'er Love, blest the noble pair, For Lady Evelina bore, A beauteous infant heir ; The Earl, receiv'd the smiling boy, And clasp'd him to his breast ; And own'd, with father's fondest joy. His lot was more than blest ! The cherub grew — but fate again Call'd Raymond to the battle plain ; — Again, Bellona lash'd her car. And loos'd, the prison'd fiends of w ar : He prest his Lady, to his heart. To whom, 'twas worse than death to part ; — RAYMOND. 59 And while emotions, shook his sou'. He labour'd vainly, to control, A boding, from his bosom's core, Proclaim'd, " we part to meet no more /" He kiss'd his boy — the big tear fell — As he pronounc'd, the last Farewell. The Countess, watch'd with frantic pain, His swelling, milk-white sail. Glide swiftly o'er the rolling main, Before the favoring gale • She gaz'd^ till e'en to Fancy's eye, The speck, appear'd no more ; Then heav'd an agonizing sigh. And sank upon the shore. Still, Raymond's stately prow, divides The curling, deep blue wave ; And safe i' th' destin'd haven rides, With all his marshall'd brave :— But who, shall paint the thoughts that roll, In burnitii; anguish, o'er his soul ? 60 RAYMOND, He now, re-trod that fatal coast, Where youth's tranquillity was lost ! His mind review'd that mournful night ; When first his Marian bless'd his siglit, He saw, the lovely highland maid, Envelop'd in her native plaid, Still, bending o'er the Soldier's bier, Deck'd with the pearly filial tear I And then, he saw each melting charm, Expiring 'neath his vengeful arm ! Again, distraction rul'd his mind ; Again, his bosom bled ; And that soft hand, that ever kind The healing balsam shed- Was far away, — He join'd the fight. Where honor call'd, he stood ; Still, prov'd himself, a valiant knight, And seal'd his fame in blood : Till close assail'd, by numerous foes, He fought, but fought in vain ; RAYMOND* 61 And 'neath reiterated blows, Had sunk, amid the slain ; But one was nigh, who flew to aid, And sav'd him from the strife ; But, in th' unequal conflict, paid. His own, for Raymond's life. — The Earl's big heart, with pity bled, He rais'd, his generous Champion's head, Thence started back, with wild surprise, With horror, gleaming in his eyes ! 'Twas his, (with agony,) to trace, His rival, in that dying face ! The object, of his jealous hate ! The author, of his Marian's fate ! And deep it stung his soul to owe, His life's salvation, to his foe ! The dying youth, with seeming bland. Still, grasp'd the Earl's reluctant hand ; Whom, while convulsions shook his breast, He thus, with earnestness address'd ; 62 RAYMOND. " Mistaken Knight ! behold in me, " (The object, of your jealousy,) ** The brother, of your angel wife I " Who, yet inhales the breath of life : — " Nay, start not thus, my Lord ! but hear, " While yet my tongue may tell — k " May justify, that sistei dear, " My bosom loves so well ! " Know, when the fair became your spouse, " I, (then unknown to fame) " Seal'd Marian's lips, with solemn vows, " To veil my humble name ; ** Till, I should win a fair renown, ** My Soul, with honest pride, " Forbad me, e'er presume to own, " Myself, to you allied : — " She kept her vow, that fatal morn, " Remember'd but too well — ** I left the camp, long e'er the dawn, *' To take a sad farewell : RAYMOiND. 63 " Alas ! my Lord, what else ensued, " 'Twere needless to relate ; *♦ You sought, in Marian's generous bloodj " To quench your frantic hate ; '* But Mercy, quite unnerv'd your ann, *' She yet survives the blow ; ** Though Sorrow's hand, on every charm " Hath set the print of woe. " When first she prov'd her lord had fled, " Distraction seiz'd her brain j " She sought, amidst the silent dead, " A refuge from her pain ; " But I, yet near, with watchful care, " Preserv'd her precious life ; " And though the victim of despair, " She breathes, your faithful wife t " I die — her husband to restore, " And glory in my fall !" But ah, a sob ! he could ho more, The hero save his all 64 RAYMOND. O Fancy ! thou whose lynx-like eye, Alone, such feelings may'st descry ; Assist the Reason, to survey. The adder, {griefs, that fiercely prey, That drink the life, of Raymond's heart, Couvuls'd with more than mortal smart ! He flew, with wildness, that sad hour To seek his Marian's widow'd bower ; Again, beheld— that well-known face, Though pale, replete with finished grace : Again, with breaking heart, he prest. The injur'd beauty, to his breast ; Again, beheld that tender truth, Which charrn'd his soul in early youth- Bright, beautiful, and glowing still, Undimm'd, unchang'd, by all her ill ! But reason burst her fretted cell, Deep madness rul'd his brain ! Naught could his raving transports quell, His heart was rent in twain ; — RAYMOND. 05 lie wildly, caught his gleaaiing glave,. And plung'd it in his breast ; Oh that a soul, so high, so brave, Should know no other rest ! Alas, poor Marian ! that bright chain, Which bound to life* and sweeten'd pain^ Her cherish'd hope, her only one. Was burst— ^dissolv'd—^for evet gone ! She shed no tear, she heav'd no sigh, Grief, drank the font of feeling dry ;-^ Like a scath'd, lovely, flower she stood> A blossom, wither'd in its bud — She fell, despairing, where her Raymond lay> And breath'd, het melancholy soul away ! SONG. Lullaby, my sweet baby ! hush ! hush thee my dear I Though the wind whistles shrilly, thou'st nothing to fear j Thy Mother's beside thee, \Vhdse eye cannot sleep, Through the watches of night, she must waken and weep. V 66 RAYMOND. Yet rest thou unconscious, my solace, and stay ! Thy innocence ken's not, thy father's away : Alas ! even now, on the murderous plain, Perhaps that bold father, in battle lies slain. Protect him, ye angels who shelter the brave, And bear him safe back, o'er the perilous wave ; Oh, then with what rapture, what exquisite joy. Will he clasp to his bosom, his love and his boy. Thus, Lady Evelina sung, Sad, watching o'er her child ; Far, on the midnight air it rung, In numbers sweet and wild : Hope's glowing, though delusive ray^ Athwart her spirit shone. Whose power yet kept despair at bay, And sooth'd affliction's moan. Anticipated joys, are bright, They sweeten human ill 5 RAYMOND. • 67 llowe'er illusive to the sight, They glow, and glitter still ! At length, the fatal tidings came» Incumbent on the wing of fame ! Lord Osmond heard with anguish wild And wept, the fortunes of his child : Yet wisely veil'd, the mystic cause^ Of all her Raymond's rending woes j Told her, in glory's combat slain. He fell, upon the battle plain : She heard ! and frantic with despair, In wildness, tore her lovely hair ; Her cheeks bright rose» forgot to blow^ Her radient eyes, forgot to glow, Save, with that wild, terrific fire, Which frenzy's impulses inspire : Even her blooming infant boy, The darling object of her joy ! She view'd with apathy profound^ And disregarded all around s f2 68 RAYMOND. She rusli'd, unseen, one fatal hour. And clim'd the castle's topmost tower, And in the wave, that roU'd beneath, Leap'd wildly in the arms of death ! xMlSCELLANEOUS POEMS. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. AN ADDRESS WRITTEN FOR A SUNDAY SCHOOL EXAMINATION. xIail kind Assemblage ! how shall I impart, The joy, that thrills this moment through my heart j- To seCy so large a concourse, here attend, To feely each bosom, beats the Children's Friend ? Hope, love, and gratitude, my soul inspire. For i/ou, will aid, each infantine desire ! 5^2 MISCELLANEOUS Yes, my companions ! we have naught to fear, For see ! beholj, our Benefactors here ! We shall not fami&h for the light of Truth, The bread of life, the blessing of our Youth ; These come, resolv'd to aid the blest design, Whose end, and purpose arc, alike diving. Permit ye Patrons, on this happy day, All humble Child, our grateful thanks to pay j To yoUj whose kind assistance put to flight. The gloomy chaos of prinieval night: Low in the depths of ignorance we lay, 'Twas you, who turn'd our darkness into day ; Recall'd us, from the paths of guilt we trod, And led our souls, by knowledge up to God : By yoUf are we enabled to behold, The gospel treasures, richer far than gold j There do we learn, how Jesus wept, and bled. And even bow'd to death, his radiant head, To save us children, who in Adam fell, From death';: dominion and the bonds of hclL POKM8. 72 With general know kfl lit too, our niiiuls expand, Thanks to each generous heart, and willing' hand But whilst the glorious work is inconipltte, Permit me still, your succours to intreat ; And for each loan, you generously impart. Each Child, shall give its all, a grateful heart ! } see, I see, I shall not plejid in vain, Witness each kindling brow ! each swelling vein ! I read it in each tear that gems the eye ! I hear its promise in each balmy sigh ! Tacit, but oh ! emphatic is their voice, Hope gladdens ! and our inmost hearts rejoice. To you, lov'd Teachers ! whose paternal hearts, We know partake the joy this scene imparts ; What shall 1 say ? How can my lisping tongue Pronounce the praises that to you belong ? I stand reprov'd ! — each honor'd look I read, With modest worth, forbids me to proceed : I know each bosom, will with warmth repeat It was a sacred iask-^a. duty sweet ! 74 MISCELLANEOUS How can we chilJrcn, all this goodness pay ? Our thanks are poor I — but yet 'tis all we maj/ ; — No ! yet not all I Thou great eternal Power That smil'st upon us this auspicious hour ; Oh ! hear our prayers — reward their pious care, Let each through life, thy choicest blessings share : Bless all who aid our cause, and thine this day, With tenfold interest, all their gifts repay, Inspire their generous souls with holy love, And lead ihem on to starry thrones above. Bless us, Lord ! and from thy holy way. Forbid our youthful feet, to turn astray : Oh ! be it ours, to prove Thee, to the end, What Thou hast ever been, thy Children's Friend! Through future years, (should Heaven protract our span, Till time shall swell the infant into man ; When sage Experience, hath inform'd our powers, Of the full value of these golden hours,) POEMS. /i How shall our souls o'erfiow, with prayer and praise, For those who sav'd us from dark Error's maze I AN EVENING ADDRESS FOR THE SAME. With what delight, we view the orb of day, In the full splendour of his noon-tide ray ! When in his zenith, glorious to behold, He laves all nature in a sea of gold ; Our bosoms glow — our hearts expand the while. And glad, partake the universal smile I Nor less at eve — when from the azure plain, On the soft bosom of the Western main, He sinks effulgent, though with fainter blaze, And to creation, sends his farewell rays : Not less the joy ! — though calmer, more serene. With which we contemplate this lovely scene ; 7^ MISCELLANKOUS And when liis lalcbt tints, have died anav, And silent night, r.ucceeds to busy day ; Grateful we feel, he will with morn arise, And take his station, in the glowing skies. You, generous friends ! have been to us, this day, What arc the beams, of Sol's meridian ray : You deign'd to smile, upon our infant band, And lent us succours, with a liberal hand ; Dispell'd each cloud, that dimm'd our humble sky, And kind, forbad our cherish'd hopes, to die. Again, each cheering face at eve, we scan, Intent to aid instruction's noble plan ; And thus the day, that rich in blessings rose, With sweet benevolence you kindly close. Nor rest we here : — for, as tomorrow's sun, Bright as to-day, his radiant course will run ; ^^'e draw alike, from present, and from past, The sweet assurance, that your care shall last . While Want, and Ignorance, together dwell, Close leagu*(\ to drag the human soul to Hell ; POEMS. // Whilst Vice, maintains her desoratinfr rule, Or Misery's babes, shall need a Sunday School, Your hearts, alive to generous pity's laws. No ! never, never ! will desert uur cause ! To Thee, O Father i King of earth and heav'n, Sole fount of light, to Thee our thanks are giv'u ! Bless those who swell our little, from their store, And Oh ! repay them with abundance more ! TO CONTENT. Hail ! thou nymph, of sober mein. Of placid eye, and look serene I How I love to see thy face. Fraught with every modest grace , Deign, ever near thy votary to dwell, And make, Oh! make my heart, thy choicest celh 78 MISCELLANEOUS Wlien fortune low'rs, and frowning. skies, In whirlings tempests, wildly rise, Thou mock'st their fury^ scorn 'st their power, And stand's! unraov'd> in darkest hour ; Bend'st thy meek head, before the sweeping storm, That vainly rages, o'er thy heav*uly form. Thou sweetest good, by heav'n design'd. To bless the philosophic mind ! Thou tak*st the sting, from woe and pain, Despair, far flying, owns thy reign ; Thou sweetly bath'st the weary'd, woe- fraught soUlj Where soft tranquillity's bland waters roll. ThoU self-existent heaven-born gUest ! Thou tenant of each virtuous breast ! May'st thou support, and cheer my way, Throughout life's brief, and gloomy day : And when death's angel, claims his plighted bride, Mny'st thou, sit smiling, sweetly by my side ! POEMS. 79 LINES OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF HER GRACE GEORGIANA DUCHESS OF NEWCx\STLE. Long must ye weep ! lon^ must ye weep ! Yea long, must sorrow's children mourn ! Georgiana, sleeps, the dreamless sleep, And Virtue sorrows o'er her urn ! Hush ! break not on the sacred grief, Which rends her noble husband's breast j Where may his pangs obtain relief ? Ah ! what shall charm such woes to rest ? No more, that chastly beaming eye. So full of soul, so soft and bright. May smile on him sweet sympathy, And wake his bosom to delight ! See! Mercy, daughter of the sky, Descending from her starry sphere, With her sweet sister. Charity, To weep, above their darling's bier :— > 80 MlSCELLAKEOtrS For Mercy, nurs'd the noble dame, And fann'd her bosom's geuer(^us fire : Oil ! let her virtuous glowing fame, But with Newcastle's name expire. Oh ! why did heav'n sUch Worth remove^ And rob mankind of so much bliss ? He lifted her, to worlds above. Who, saw her soul too pure for this. ON THE SAME. 1 mark'd her glide, along the dance, The first and fairest there ; I mark'd her dark eyes witching glance^ To feeling bosoms dear : POEMS. 83 Misfortune, in ray natal hour, Enthrall'd me by her darkest powers Bade life's deep cup, with gall o'erflow, And seal'd her impress o'er my brow j Oft hath she bid bright scenes ariscj Only, the Witch ! to tantalize. Yet 'fore the heartless, and the proud; The vain, the gay, the idle crowd. The robe of cheerfulness I wear, (For scorn's the hardest ill to bear :) And such is habit's force, I deem I'm oft well nigh, the thing I seem, Till somewhat gives my fate to view, And tears the cicatrice anew; Wonder no more — on yon dark cloud,^ See the sun smiling--.'tis his shroud ! Yon day flower too, whose doom is past, Yet smiles, looks lovely to the last :— » G 2 84 MISCELLANEOUS Patterns of beauty ! ye impart A lesson, to the afflicted heart ; Ye gild with smiles, the darkling gloom, Which marks your passage to the tomb. TO A RELATIVE. Daughter of him, to whom my heart, Clung with affection true ; Permit thy Katie, ere we part To breathe a fond adieu : Adieu ! dread word ! of deepest pain, When kindred souls are forc'd in twain. Bereft of thee, an hermitess, I midst the crowd shall pine ; For little, has the world to bless, Since few have hearts like thine . POEMS. 85 Where virtue, dignity unite. With feeling goodness to delight. For such a||i one, I've sought in vain, Midst those professing fair ; Then tum*d me from the quest of pain, Sad victim of despair — Poor erring thing ! I could not deem. The stillest was the deepest stream. Thou, modest, dear, retiring maid, With bosom fram'd to bless ; Art like the vi'let of the glade, Grace of the wilderness ! So though the Iqadstone do not shine. There's naught more precious gems the mine. O, let that generous heart with mine. In friendship's bower repose ; Let soft affections round them twine, And virtue's deathless rose : 86 MISCELLANEOUS May no unholy thing, molest. To break, or mar their sacred rest. Oft when were parted, think on me. Thou dearest maid and best ; And I will e'er be true to thee, Thou'lt live in Katie's breaat : Her solace, trust, and guiding spell. But now— adieu— farewell— farewell ! FORGET ME NOT • When lighter minds, are torn apart. Slight is the anguish of the heart. And soon the smart's forgot : Such is not mine, thou know'st full well ! And what it feels, no tongue can tell— Jt sighs, ^^f of get me mt !** POEMS. 87 That only boon, I ask of thee, Would gild my page of destiny, Bedimm'd by many a blot ; As Sol's reviving glorious ray. Oft drives o'erwhelmning gloom away 5 Then O forget me not ! The scathed oak— the blighted flower, The sun-dried stream— the ruin'd tower, Are emblems of my lot :— The heart is sad and desolate, Yet whilst I strive jwith adverse fate, Forget— forget me not ! O ! would that kindred bosoms might, In sweet Platonic bonds unite, In some sequester'd spot. Far from the dull cold world apart; Naught then, should daunt the yearning hearty Who's prayer's, forget me not ! 88 MISCELLANEOUS But why should'st thou remember nie ? A thing hetroth'd to misery^ Were surely best forgot ! Yet all life's ills, would pain me less, Than proving thy forgetfulness. Then Oh I forget me not ! SONG. Her warrior tove departed, To bis vows, his country true ; And though nigh broken hearted. Yet she faulter'd forth " adieu! " But strove to quell her woman's fears, And from her noble eye. She dash'd away the rising tears. Whilst he stood wond'ring by. POEMS, " Go matchless youth ! she firmly said, *' And still by land, or sea, " With passion undiminished, ** This heart must go with thee ; " Whilst thou, still to thy fame art true, " And to thy native land ; ** Without which, never dare to sue, *' A patriot woman's hand," 'Twas inspiration — 'twas his fate — Too well the hero prov'd. How he e&teem'd that mandat's weight, How well, how deep he lov'd ! Boldest, in danger's front he stood, 'Gainst battles whelming tide 5, Alas ! it cost his heart's best blood, In glory's strife he died. His fame soon reach'd that maiden's ear, Borne on the mournful gale ; 90 MISCELLANEOUS Her eye refus'd its balmy tear, Above that rending tale ! A light, of more than earthly glow, Seem'd p'ei? her brows to play, ** 'Tis well !" she sigh'd, and sinking low. Her spirit past away. WOMAN. What light doth man the most approve. When darkness hovers nigh ? The chastely glowing light of love, From woman's beamy eye. When billows of affliction roll, And rob his heart of rest ; Where may the wight unload his soul ? Where ? but on woman's breast I FOEMS. 01 Though Fortune frown, and friends decay, And turn his life blood chill ; He'll find the partner of his way, Sweet woman, faithful still ! When jealous envy wounds his name, What may his pangs beguile ; And compensate for blighted fame ? Woman's endearing smile. When sickness lays her lover pale, And pangs, his body tear ; Oh ! say \?hat arts may best avail ? Sweet woman's fervent pray'r I And when he sleeps from mortal strife^, What most shall grace his bier ? The proudest trophy, won in life, Sweet woman's dewey tear \ ^ MISCELLANEOUS FAREWELL. There is a word, which tears the heart, With tortures, indiscribable ; More dire, than mortal sabre's smart. And that wild accent is, Farewell ! It wrings, it rends, the troubled soul, The bosom heaves, with anguish'd swell ; And baffled Reason, yields controul. To passions wak'd, by sad, Farewell, The finest chords, soft Feeling's hand, Twines round the heart, with witching spell ; Smote by Despair's, soul-chilling wand. All wither, 'neath the sad Farewell. It sounds, of each lov'd hope, and dream, The dying groan, the iinal knell ; The breaking heart, espies nc beam, To gild the gloom, of sad Farewell. POEMS. 93 TO ONE RECOMMENDING THE PERUSAL OF ROGERS*S " PLEASURES OF MEMORY.' Tell me not, of " Memory's pleasures," Recollection's fancied joys ! While each hope, my bosom treasures, Time, or destiny, destroys ! Can the life, that's past in sorrow, From the retrospective eye. Fail the briny tear to borrow ? Fail to wake, the mournful sigh. Friendship's smiles, with beams of {gladness, Oft have twinkled through the gloom ; Only, to augment my sadness, And to aggravate my doora^ Adverse Fate, no sooner bound me. Rut she rent the chains she'd tvvin'd ; Left me, more the wretch, she found me, Broken, and subdued, of mind. 94 Miscellaneous Can siich recollections charm me ? Can a ray of comfort break, O'er my sorrowing hea,rt, to warm me ? No ! — this bosom, still must ache 1 LINES WRITTEN ON A BLANK PAGE OF ROGERS'S " PLEASURES OF MEMORY," AFTER HAVING READ THE SAME. Oh ! might I twine a wreath for thee> £nchantor sweet, of " Memory /" I'd fondly cull, such virgin flowers. As bloom'd in Eden's sacred bowel^: Nor should the winds, o'er Lethe's streams that blow. E'er drink their sweets, or mar their radiant glow. t»OEMS. 96 I'd bid the " Tear*'' a central gein> Sparkle on thy diadem ; Then ask of " Jacqueline's" fair shade^ To crown thee, with the grateful braid : And joying scan our Rogers* much lov'd name^ Wove with " Columbus'" in the rolls of Fame« LINES WRITTEN FOR ONE SUFFERING A DISAPPOINT^ MENT OF THE HEART. O ! throw those sparkling buds away, Twine, twine no flowery wreath for me 3 But weave one with a cypress spray, And branches from the willow tree. 96 MISCELLANEOUS Mingle then, some sprigs of rue, Aconite, and dark nightshade \ Each trembling leaf of mournful hue, To close the sad, yet welcome braid. But should'st thou find, some flower of springy, Nipt by the hoar frosts killing breath ; Lovely, lone, and withering, Sinking in the arms of death ; Place it, as a central gem, On this aching joyless brow ; 'Tis a sad, but a lovely emblem, Of a heart betray'd by woman's vt)W. Joy, bright goddess ! hath fled forever, Deaf is my ear, to the notes of mirth ; Peace must re-visit this heart — no never ! Till it sleep in the lap of its parent earth* PbEMS.' 97 "thtn twine, fair Lady, yea, twine the willdw, O kindly plant it above my grave ; O yes ! when I sleep on my clay-cold pillow, Let it, with the cypress, over me wave; SERENADE. TO THE SPANISH AIR OF " ISABEL.' ' Rest, lov'd one, rest !— O at this lonely hour, Be peaceful slumber's thine ; May fairy visions, with soothing power, To cheer thy soul combine ; May thy soft bosom, thou gentle flow'r, Ne'er feel the woes of mine : May'st thou sleep— may'st thou sleep— may'st thou Ble«?j Unconscious of Henry's sorrow ^ Ah ! well may thy fond lover weep^ For we sail ere the sunrise to-morrow. Adieu 1 Adieu f H 98 MISCELLANEOUS Whilst I must strive, amid foes and danger, May'st thou know soft repose ; May thy lov'd bosom, to care a stranger. Oft bathe wliere pleasure flows ; And Oh ! may no thought of thy sad ranger, E'er mar love thy cheek's bright rose, May'st thou sleep! &c. If I should in battle surrender. In Freedom's fair cause my breath. For thee my last prayers I'll render, And bless thee even in death ; With vows of affection so tender, I'll thee to heav'n bequeath. May'st thou sleep — may'st thou sleep — ^may'st thou sleep ! 'Till then be a stranger to sorrow ; For then must my faithful one weep, Nor must Hope gild the gloom of that morrow. Adieu! Adieu t POEMS. ACASTO. In life's sequester'd vale, to fame unknown, The meek Acasto pass'd his life's long day ; Almost to misery's hapless child alone. Was known the hero of this humble lay : To wipe the tear from sorrow's languid eye, To bind the wounds of disappointment's smart. To shield the helpless, soothe the sufF'rers sigh. Were the choice labours of his pious heart. Peace to his ashes ! o'er his grassy tomb. The pensive muse this humble tribute pays ; The memory of the good survives their doom, But works, like his, demand immortal praise. 99 A PORTRAIT. O full of guile ! and clever to deceive, 'Tis thine the web of wiles, with skill to weave, H 2 100 MISCELLANEOUS Fair spotless truth, with falshood to entwine, And bid the cheating surface smoothly shine : Thine eyes the mind hath taught to speak so well, They own the serpent's fascinating spell. Dame Nature's hand, on thy whole form and face, Hath wasted many a charm and blooming grace, A face where glows expression's brightest ray. Yet seeming lovely only to betray ! Thine is the melting look — the touching toncj That smites the soul, and makes the heart its own, With tales of art, wrought with the nicest skill. Thou bend'st each captive to thy worthless will ; Should one, thy slave, revolting, try to break His chain, and thus thy potent empire shake, Array'd in smiles, or tears-, thou well can'st feigo. Thou bind'st the rebel with a tenfold chain ; Each deep intrigue is gloss'd with seeming clear, Thou Cleopatra, of a meaner sphere ! POEMS. 101 LINES COMPOSED BY MOONLIGHT, SEPTEMBER 16, 1826. 'Tis one of those night?. In which fancy delights, On the moons' silver wings to be straying, While the gems sweetly glow, On her Ethiop brow, And the sylphs o'er the meadows are playing. Every leaf is at rest. Every bird's in it's nest, All is hush'd, save the charmer, the minstrel of night ! She pours her lone wail. Tells her soul-rending tale. Whilst fair Cynthia, enamour'd,' looks down with delight. O ! this is the hour, When care killing pow'r ! Unlooses her chains and releases the mind. 102 MISCELLANEOUS When the heart of the lover. Who roves the world over. Breathes a sigh for the maiden ^ho lingers behind. ON A SMILE. Too oft is a smile. But the creature of guile, A beautiful glowing illusion ! Seeming sunbeam of truth. On the forehead of youth. But a meteor of dangerous delusion. 'Tis the finishing grace. To a beautiful face. As 'mid dimples reposing most »wect ; roEMs. 103 Alas ! that so bright, A young ray of delight. Should be ever the mask of deceit ! He who murders your name, And traduces your fame, Even hCf the assassin I will smile'; As he yields you his hand. With a seeming most bland. He will life's fairest rose-buds despoil. Thus laughs, in the hour. When *neath its dread power. The Hyaena grasps wildly its helpless prey ; 'Tis a beautiful daemon. Of virtuous seeming. That looks like an angel, alas ! to betray* 104 MISCELLANEOUS ON WOMAN'S LOVE, A woman's love, a woman's love. Say what is like a woman's love ? |n earth below, and skies above. Oh ! what is like a woman's love ? *Tie like the sun, whose cheering ray Gives light and beauty to the day : 'Tis like the moon, whose radiance bright, Illume's the ethiop brow of night ; *Tis like that unexpiring blaze, Which burns where death's dark banner plays : *Tis like the vast and mighty deep. Whose rolling waves may never sleep : *Tis like the magnet, ever true. Which keeps its worship'd star in view : 'Tis like the pearly fount that streams. Where torrid suns diffuse their beams : 'Tis pure as those young flowers that hlovr^ Jn early spring, in vests of snow ^ POEMS. ♦Tis like the precious diamond's light, That glows, e'en 'raid the darkest night. On earth below, or skies above. What else displays a woman's love ? Whatever breathes of faith and truth. Shows woman's love in early youth. m ENVY. Pale Envy sickens at another's good. And blights life's fairest blossoms in the bud j With sharper thorns, invests its brightest rose, And darkly o'er our path her mantle throws. 8he hates the mirror, that to nature true. Presents her own dark visage to her view, And seeks to mar its lustre, and deface. Its fair, immaculate, and polish'd face : Unloving and unlov'd, she live's accurs'd, Tormenting all, herself tormented worst ; 10(> MISCELLANEOUS Her darling child is Hate, by fate decreed On her dark Parent's vital powers to feed. Her's are the venom'd blade, the poison'd bow!, A thousand deaths in her dark eyeballs roll . Where'er the scowling daemon holds her reign. Slander, and malice, revel in her train ; She plucks the blossoms from Fame's topmost bough, And casts them where the Lethean waters flow : Infernal pair ! by Satan's self begot, Nurs'd where the light of Virtue shineth not ! -^- TO MISS LINWOOD. Pride of thy country, hail ! to thee the votive muse would pay, No lowly servile off 'ring, but a pure and grateful lay ; A muse, that ever worships at fair Genius* radiant shrine. Now stoops immortal Linwood I low, devoutly stoops at thine j POEMS. 107 Than whom^ hath never shone a star, of purer ray to gem, The beauteous brows of ocean's queen, or grace her diadem ; *Kings-, Princes, Emperors, have view'd the wonders of thy hand. And borne, delighted borne ! thy praise to every distant land : E'en she who sleeps, that virtuous fQueen, whom British hearts revere, Confess'd that in creative power, thou stood'st without compeer. Nor shines thy worth, illustrious one ! less than thy genius bright, Thou hast a heart which virtuous deeds alone, can yield delight ; • "Kings, Princes, Emperors," &c. Tlic crowned heads ^vho visited England, in 1814, 1 suppose visited Miss Linwood's exhibition, in liCicester-square. f The late Queen Charlotte— C. C. B. 108 MISCELLANEOUS In works of high benevolence, we know thy honour*