The heath this night must be my bed,
The bracken curtain for my head,
My lullaby the warder's tread,
Far, far, from love and thee, Mary;
To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,
My couch may be my bloody plaid,
My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid!
It will not waken me, Mary!
I may not, dare not, fancy now
The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
I dare not think upon thy vow,
And all it promised me, Mary.
No fond regret must Norman know;
When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,
His heart must be like bended bow,
His foot like arrow free, Mary!
A time will come with feeling fraught,
For, if I fall in battle fought,
Thy hapless lover's dying thought
Shall be a thought on thee, Mary!
And if returned from conquered foes,
How blithely will the evening close,
How sweet the linnet sing repose
To my young bride and me, Mary!
THE sun went down amidst an angry glare Of flushing clouds, that crimsoned all the air; The winds brake loose; the forest boughs were torn, And dark aloof the eddying foliage borne; Cattle to shelter scudded in affright; The florid evening vanished into night; Then burst the hurricane upon the vale, In peals of thunder, and thick vollied hail;
Prone rushing rains with torrents whelmed the land, Our cot amidst a river seemed to stand;
Around its base, the foamy-crested streams
Flashed through the darkness to the lightning's gleams,
With monstrous throes an earthquake heaved the ground,
The rocks were rent, the mountains trembled round!
Never since Nature into being came,
Had such mysterious motion shook her frame;
We thought, ingulpht in floods, or wrapt in fire,
The world itself would perish with our Sire.
Amidst this war of elements, within
More dreadful grew the sacrifice of sin,
Whose victim on his bed of torture lay,
Breathing the slow remains of life away.
Ere while, victorious faith sublimer rose
Beneath the pressure of collected woes:
But now his spirit wavered, went and came,
Like the loose vapour of departing flame,
Till at the point, when comfort seemed to die
For ever in his fixed unclosing eye,
Bright through the smouldering ashes of the man,
The saint broke forth, and Adam thus began!
"O ye, that shudder at this awful strife,
This wrestling agony of death and life,
Think not that He, on whom my soul is cast,
Will leave me thus forsaken to the last;
Nature's infirmity alone you see;
My chains are breaking, I shall soon be free;
Though firm in God the spirit holds her trust,
The flesh is frail, and trembles into dust.
Horror and anguish seize me;-'tis the hour
Of darkness, and I mourn beneath its power;
The Tempter plies me with his direst art,
I feel the Serpent coiling round my heart;
He stirs the wound he once inflicted there,
Instils the deadening poison of despair!
Belies the truth of God's delaying grace,
And bids me curse my Maker to his face.
I will not curse Him, though his grace delay;
I will not cease to trust Him, though he slay;
Full on his promised mercy I rely,
For God hath spoken-God who cannot lie.
-THOU, of my faith the Author and the End!
Mine early, late, and everlasting Friend!
The joy, that once thy presence gave, restore,
Ere I am summoned hence, and seen no more:
Down to the dust returns this earthly frame,
Receive my spirit, Lord! from whence it came;
Rebuke the Tempter, show thy power to save,
O let thy glory light me to the grave,
That these, who witness my departing breath,
May learn to triumph in the grasp of death."
He closed his eyelids with a tranquil smile,
And seemed to rest in silent prayer awhile:
Around his couch with filial awe we kneeled,
When suddenly a light from heaven revealed
A Spirit, that stood within the unopened door;-
The sword of God in his right hand he bore;
His countenance was lightning, and his vest
Like snow at sun-rise on the mountain's crest;
Yet so benignly beautiful his form,
His presence stilled the fury of the storm;
At once the winds retire, the waters cease,
His look was love, his salutation, 'Peace!'
Our mother first beheld him, sore amazed, But terror grew to transport while she gazed: "Tis He, the Prince of Seraphim, who drove Our banished feet from Eden's happy grove; Adam, my life, my spouse, awake!' she cried; 'Return to Paradise; behold thy Guide!
'O let me follow in this dear embrace!'
She sunk, and on his bosom hid her face.
Adam looked up; his visage changed its hue,
Transformed into an angel's at the view:
'I come!' he cried, with faith's full triumph fired, And in a sigh of ecstasy expired.
The light was vanished, and the vision fled;
We stood alone, the living with the dead;
The ruddy embers glimmering round the room,
Displayed the corse amidst the solemn gloom;
But o'er the scene a holy calm reposed,
The gate of heaven had opened there, and closed.
Eve's faithful arm still clasped her lifeless spouse; Gently I shook it, from her trance to rouse; She gave no answer; motionless and cold, It fell like clay from my relaxing hold; Alarmed, I lifted up the locks of grey
That hid her cheek; her soul had passed away; A beauteous corse she graced her partner's side, Love bound their lives, and death could not divide.
Trembling astonishment of grief we felt, Till Nature's sympathies began to melt; We wept in stillness through the long dark night, -And O how welcome was the morning light.
|