power
  To keep thee from my sight?

"Why do'st thou glare? Why do'st thou wave
  That fatal cursed knife?
The deed is done, and from the grave
  Who can recall to life?

"Why rolls thine eye beneath thy brow,
  Dark as the midnight storm?
What do'st thou want? O, let me know!
  But hide thy dreadful form.

"I'd give the life's blood from my heart
  To wash my crime away:
If thou'rt a spirit, O, depart!
  Nor haunt a wretch of clay.

"Say, do'st thou with the blessed dwell?
  Return and blessed be!
Or com'st thou from the lowest hell?
  I am more curst than thee."

The form advanc'd with solemn step,
  As though it meant to speak;
And thrice it mov'd its mutt'ring lip,
  But silence did not break.

Then sternly stalk'd with heavy pace,
 Which shook the trembling wall;
And, frowning, turn'd its angry face,
  And vanish'd from the hall.

With fixed eyes, pale Conrad stood,
 That from their sockets swell;
Back on his heart ran the cold blood,
  He shudder'd as he fell.

Night fled, and thro' the window 'gan
  The early light to play;
But on a more unhappy man
  Ne'er shone the dawning day.

The gladsome sun all nature cheers,
  But cannot charm his cares:
Still dwells his mind with gloomy fears,
  And murther'd Edward glares.

PART III.

"No rest nor comfort can I find,
  I watch the midnight hour;
I sit and listen to the wind
  Which beats upon my tower.

"Methinks low voices from the ground
  Break mournful on mine ear,
And thro' these empty chambers sound
  So dismal and so drear.

"The ghost of some departed friend
  Doth in my sorrows share;
Or is it but the rushing wind
  That mocketh my despair.

"Sad thro' the hall the pale lamp gleams
  Upon my father's arms:
My soul is fill'd with gloomy dreams,
  I fear unknown alarms.

"Oh! I have known this lonely place
  With ev'ry blessing stor'd;
And many a friend with cheerful face
  Sit smiling at my board,

"Whilst round the fire, in early bloom,
  My harmless children play'd,
Who now within the narrow tomb
  Are with their mother laid.

"And now low bends my wretched head,
  And those I lov'd are gone:
My friends, my family, all are fled,
  And I am left alone.

"Oft' as the cheerless fire declines,
  In it I sadly trace,
As 'lone I sit, the half form'd lines
  Of many a much lov'd face.

"But chief, O Marg'ret! to my mind
  Thy lovely features rise:
I strive to think thee less unkind,
  And wipe my streaming eyes.

"For only thee I had to vaunt,
  Thou wert thy mother's pride:
She left thee like a shooting plant
  To screen my widow'd side.

"But thou hast left me weak, forlorn,
  And chill'd with age's frost,
To count my weary days, and mourn
  The comforts I have lost.

"Unkindly fair! why did'st thou go?
  O, had I known the truth!
Tho' Edward's father was my foe,
  I would have bless'd the youth.

"O could I see that face again,
  Whose smile calm'd ev'ry strife!
And hear that voice, which sooth'd my pain,
  And made me wish for life!

"Thy harp hangs silent by the wall:
  My nights are sad and long:
And thou art in a distant hall,
  Where strangers raise the song.

"Ha! some delusion of the mind
  My senses doth confound!
It was the harp, and not the wind,
  That did so sweetly sound."

Old Arno rose, all wan as death,
  With broken steps of care;
And oft' he check'd his quick-heav'd breath,
  And turn'd his eager ear.

When like a full, but distant choir
  The swelling sound return'd;
And with the soft and trembling wire,
  The sighing echoes mourn'd.

Then softly whisper'd o'er the song
  Which Marg'ret lov'd to play,
Like some sweet dirge, and sad, and long,
  It faintly died away.

His dim-worn eyes to heav'n he cast,
  Where all his griefs were known;
And smote upon his troubled breast,
  And heav'd a heavy groan.

"I know it is my daughter's hand,
  But 'tis no hand of clay:
And here a lonely wretch I stand,
  All childless, bent, and grey.

"And art thou low, my lovely child?
  And hast thou met thy doom?
And has thy flatt'ring morning smil'd,
  To lead but to the tomb?

"O let me see thee ere we part,
  For souls like thine are blest;
O let me fold thee to my heart
  If aught of form thou hast.

"This passing mist enrobes thy charms:
  Alas, to nought 'tis shrunk!
And hollow strike my empty arms
  Against my aged trunk.

"Thou'rt fled like the low ev'ning breath
  That sighs upon the hill:
O stay! tho' in thy weeds of death,
  Thou art my daughter still."

Loud wak'd the sound, then fainter grew,
  And long and sadly mourn'd;
And softly sigh'd a long adieu,
  And never more return'd.

Old Arno stretch'd him on the ground,
  Thick as the gloom of night,
Death's misty shadows gather'd round,
  And swam before his sight.

He heav'd a deep and deadly groan,
  Which rent his lab'ring breast;
And long before the morning shone,
  His spirit was at rest.

A REVERIE.

  Beside a spreading elm, from whose high boughs
Like knotted tufts the crow's light dwelling shows,
Where screen'd from northern blasts, and winter proof,
Snug stands the parson's barn with thatched roof;
At chaff-strew'd door, where, in the morning ray,
The gilded mots in mazy circles play,
And sleepy Comrade in the sun is laid,
More grateful to the cur than neighb'ring shade;
In snowy shirt unbrac'd, brown Robin stood,
And leant upon his flail in thoughtful mood:
His full round cheek where deeper flushes glow,
The dewy drops which glisten on his brow;
His dark cropt pate that erst at church or fair,
So smooth and silky, shew'd his morning's care,
Which all uncouth in matted locks combin'd,
Now, ends erect, defies the ruffling wind;
His neck-band loose, and hosen rumpled low,
A careful lad, nor slack at labour shew.
Nor scraping chickens chirping 'mongst the straw,
Nor croaking rook o'er-head, nor chatt'ring daw;
Loud-breathing cow amongst the rampy weeds,
Nor grunting sow that in the furrow feeds;
Nor sudden breeze that shakes the quaking leaves,
And lightly rustles thro' the scatter'd sheaves;
Nor floating straw that skims athwart his nose,
The deeply musing youth may discompose.
For Nelly fair, and blythest village maid,
Whose tuneful voice beneath the hedge-row shade,
At early milking, o'er the meadows born,
E'er cheer'd