O

TO WINTER.

WINTER! bar thine adamantine doors:

The north is thine; there hast thou built
thy dark

Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathed
In ribbed steel; I dare not lift mine eyes;
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks :
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal'st
With storms, till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driven yelling to his caves beneath Mount Hecla.

TO THE EVENING STAR.

`HOU fair-hair'd angel of the evening,

TH

Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains,
light

Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves, and, while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And the lion glares thro' the dun forest :
The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.

TO MORNING.

HOLY virgin! clad in purest white,

Unlock heaven's golden gates and issue
forth;

Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light
Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring
The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day.
O radiant morning, salute the sun,

Roused like a huntsman to the chase, and with
Thy buskin'd feet appear upon our hills.

THE

FAIR ELEANOR.

HE bell struck one and shook the silent tower; The graves give up their dead: fair Eleanor Walk'd by the castle-gate, and looked in; A hollow groan ran thro' the dreary vaults.

She shriek'd aloud, and sunk upon the steps,
On the cold stone her pale cheek.
Of death issue as from a sepulchre,

Sickly smells

And all is silent but the sighing vaults.

Chill death withdraws his hand, and she revives;
Amazed she finds herself upon her feet,

And, like a ghost, through narrow passages
Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands.

Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones
And grinning skulls, and corruptible death
Wrapt in his shroud; and now fancies she hears
Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding.

At length no fancy, but reality

Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet
Of one that fled, approaches.-Ellen stood,
Like a dumb statue, froze to stone with fear.

The wretch approaches, crying, "The deed is done; "Take this and send it by whom thou wilt send; "It is my life-send it to Eleanor :—

"He's dead, and howling after me for blood!

'Take this,” he cried; and thrust into her arms
A wet napkin, wrapt about; then rush'd
Past, howling: she received into her arms
Pale death, and follow'd on the wings of fear.

They pass'd swift thro' the outer gate; the wretch Howling, leap'd o'er the wall into the moat, Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass'd the bridge, And heard a gloomy voice cry, "Is it done?"

As the deer wounded Ellen flew over
The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly

By night; destruction flies, and strikes in darkness.
She fled from fear, till at her house arrived.

Her maids await her; on her bed she falls,

That bed of joy where erst her lord hath press'd:

'Ah, woman's fear!" she cried, "Ah, cursed duke!

"Ah, my dear lord! ah, wretched Eleanor !

66 My

lord was like a flower upon the brows "Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower!

"O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand,

"Seek'st thou that flower to deck thy horrid temples?

My lord was like a star in highest heaven "Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness;

My lord was like the opening eyes of day,

"When western winds creep softly o'er the flowers.

"But he is darken'd; like the summer's noon "Clouded; fall'n like the stately tree, cut down; "The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves. "O Eleanor, weak woman, fill'd with woe!"

Thus having spoke, she raised up her head,
And saw the bloody napkin by her side,

Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold
More terrified, saw it unfold itself.

Her eyes were fix'd; the bloody cloth unfolds,
Disclosing to her sight the murder'd head
Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted
With gory blood; it groan'd, and thus it spake :

"O Eleanor, behold thy husband's head
"Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower,
"Was reft of life by the accursed duke!
"A hired villain turn'd my sleep to death!

"O Eleanor, beware the cursed duke, "O give not him thy hand, now I am dead; "He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night, "Hired a villain to bereave my life."