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" For three long days, and for three long nights,
“ Must they tremble with guilty fear, « Till the whirlwind cease, and all be peace,
“ And I no longer there.”
He spoke and clasp'd his arms to grasp
The form of that lady fair;
Now wanders with his thro' the air.
THE LOVER'S ROCK.
The maiden, thro' the favouring night
In fear they fled across the plain,
And now they reach the mountain's height,
But while she slept, the passing gale
Young Manuel started from his sleep,
They saw him raise his angry hand
Then Manuel's heart grew wild with woe,
The ascent was steep, the rock was high,
The moorish chief unmov'd could see His daughter bend the suppliant knee, He heard his child for pardon plead, And swore the christian slave should bleed.
He bade the archers bend the how,
The archers aim'd their arrows there,
He clasp'd her close, and groan'd farewells
And side by side they there are laid,
Yet every murcian maid can tell Where Laila lies who lov'd so well; And every youth who passes there, Says for Manuel's soul a prayer.
COLIN AND LUCY,
Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Reflect so sweet a face:
Impair’d her rosy hue,
And eyes of glossy blue.
Oh! have you seen a lily pale,
When beating rains descend?
Her life now near its end.
Take heed, ye easy fair :
Ye perjur'd swains, beware.
Three times all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring;
The raven clap'd his wing.
Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
The solemn boding sound:
The virgins weeping round:
“ I hear a voice, you cannot hear,
“ Which says, I must not stay; “ I see a hand, you cannot see,
« Which beckons me away. “ By a false heart, and broken vows,
“ In early youth I die: * Was I to blame, because his bride
“ Was thrice as rich as I ?
“Ah, Colin! give not her thy vows,
“ Vows, due to me alone: “ Nor thou fond maid receive his kiss,
“ Nor think him all thy own. “ Tomorrow, in the church to wed,
“Impatient, both prepare ! * But know, fond maid; and know false man,
“ That Lucy will be there!
“ Then bear my corse, my comrades, bear,
“ This bridegroom blithe to meet, “ He in his wedding trim so gay,
“ I in my winding sheet. She spoke, she dy'd, her corse was borne
The bride-groom blithe to meet,