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« Come back, coine hack,” he cried in grief,
Across this stormy water : “ And I'll forgive your Highland chief,
“ My daughter,--Oh my daughter!"'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore,
Return or aid preventing :
And he was left lamenting.
THE TURKISH LADY.
'TWAS the hour when rites unholy
Call'd each Paynim voice to pray’r, And the star that faded slowly
Left to dews the freshen’d air. Day her sultry fires had wasted,
Calm and sweet the moon-light rose; E'en a captive's spirit tasted
Half oblivion of his woes. Then 'twas from an Emir's palace
Came an Eastern Lady bright: She, in spite of tyrants jealous,
Saw and lov'd an English knight. “ Tell me, captive, why in anguish
“ Foes have dragy'd thee here to dwell, " Where poor Christians, as they languisli,
- Hear no sound of sabbath bell?" 56 'Twas on Transylvania's Bannat
" When the crescent shone afar, " Like a pale disastrous planet,
« O’er the purple tide of war.“ In that day of desolation,
“ Lady, I was captive made; « Bleeding for my Christian nation
“ By the wall of high Belgrade.”
“ Captive, could the brightest jewel,
“ From my turban, set thee free?"
“ Ransom’d, yet if reft of thee.
« Christian climes should we behold ?"
• Were thy ransom paid in gold !"
Rose the midnight star to view,
Thrice she wept, and bade adieu !
“ Tyrant barks, in vain ye ride !" Soon at Rhodes the British lover,
Clasp'd his blooming Eastern bride.
ALONZO THE BRAVE AND FAIR
A WARRIOR so bold and a virgin so bright,
Convers’d as they sat on the green ; They gaz'd on each other with tender delight; Alonzo the Brave, was the name of the Knight
The Maid's was the Fair Imogine. “ And, oh!" said the youth, 66 since to-morrow I go
" To fight in a far distant land, " Your tears for my absence soon ceasing to flow, • Some other will court you, and you will bestow
" On a wealthier suitor your hand!
“ Oh! hush these suspicions," fair Imogine said,
• Offensive to love and to me: “ For, if you be living, or if you be dead, “ I swear by the Virgin, that none in your stead
“ Shall husband of Imogine be. « If e'er I, by lust or by wealth led aside,
Forget my Alonzo the Brave, “ God grant that, to punish my falsehood and pride, “ Your ghost at the marriage may sit by my side, “ May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride,
6° Aud bear nie away to the grave!" To Palestine hasten'd the hero so bold;
His love she lamented him sore:-
Arriv'd at fair Imogine's door.
Soon made her untrue to her vows:
And carry'd her home as his spouse!
The revelry now was begun; The tables they groan'd with the weight of the feast, Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceas'd,
When the bell at the castle toll'd-ONE. Then first with amazement fair Imoginę found
A stranger was plac'd by her side:
But earnestly gaz'd on the bride!
His armour was sable to view:
The lights in the chamber burn'd blue !
His presence all bosoms appear'd to dismay ;
The guests sat in silence and fear'; At length spake the Bride, while she trembled, " I
“ Sir Knight, that
you would lay, 66 And deign to partake of our cheer!!!
The lady is silent; the stranger complies;
His vizor he slowly unclos'd;-
When a skeleton's head was expos'd !
All present then utter'd a terrify'd shout,
All turn'd with disgust from the scene; The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept
out, And sported his eyes and his temples about,
While the spectre address'd Imogine:
«« Behold me, thou false one, behold me!” he cry'd;
• Remember Alonzo the Brave! “ God grants, that, to punish thy falshood and pride,
My ghost at thy marriage should sit by thy side; “ Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as bride,
" And bear thee away to the
Thus saying, his arms round the lady he wound,
she ; Then sunk with his prey thro' the wide-yawning
ground! Nor ever again was fair Imogine found,
Or the spectre that bore her away!
Not long liv'd the baron; and none, since that time,
To inhabit the castle presume ;
And mourns her deplorable doom.
At midnight, four times in each year, does her sprite,
When mortals in slumber are bound,
And shriek as he whirls her around !
While they drink out of skulls newly torn from the
grave, Dancing round them the spectres are seen: Their liquor is blood, and this horrible stave They howl" To the health of Alonzo the Brave,
" And his consort, the Fair Imogine !"
POOR MARY, THE MAID OF THE INN.
WHO is she, the poor maniac, whose wildly-fix'd
The composure of settled distress,
No aid, no compassion the maniac will seek;
Cold and hunger awake not her care : Thro' the rags do the winds of the winter blow bleak On her poor wither'd bosom, half bare, and her cheek
Has the deadly pale hue of despair.
Yet cheerful and happy (nor distant the day)
Poor Mary the maniac has been; The tray'ller remembers, who journey'd this way, No damsel so lovely, no damsel so gay,
As Mary, the maid of the ind.