Sweet Mabel, a cordial thy spirits to cheer
By thy true love commission'd, I bring;
Drink a health to thine Alleyn so fond, and sincere ; This pledge of his faith too he begs thee to wear :— He said, and presented a ring.
The maid took the chalice-" Most grateful to me "Are the gifts of my swain," she replied, "Love hallows his tribute: O blest may he be! "And Peace, courteous stranger, attend upon thee, "Where Fortune thy footsteps shall guide."
Then the path-way pursuing, at length to her view The wall of the Church-yard appear'd;
(Where spleenwort and maidenhair luxuriantly grew)
And within its inclosures, a wide-spreading yew
For a century, it's huge trunk had rear'd.
There her love she beheld, as athwart the deep shade
The moon-light soft chequer'd the place;
The Pilgrim at distance had follow'd the maid,
And now, by a tomb-stone conceal'd, he survey'd
The Fair in her Alleyn's embrace.
Thrice welcome my dear one! enraptured I press
The treasure so loved to my heart;
The Damsel with fondness return'd his caress;
But her voice sunk and faultering, could scarcely express
The emotions she sought to impart.
At length-"O my Alleyn, thy cordial" she cried, By turns chills my blood, and inflames.”
"What cordial?"-the lover astonish'd replied; Then the counterfeit Pilgrim his garb cast aside, Rush'd forth, and thus wildly exclaims.
Revenge, thou art mine!-Now attend haughty ❝ fair,
"And prepare to resign thy last breath,
"No longer my soul thy indifference shall bear;
"But my
Rival in turn feel the pangs of despair;
"For the draught that I gave thee was death.
"No more with soft wishes thy bosom shall heave, "Or Love dart his fires from thine eye; "No more, Hope's gay visions thy fancy deceive, "Or whisper that Mabel for Alleyn shall live; "For Mabel with Hubert shall die!
"With a ring I've espoused thee;-look round and "behold
"The bride-bed made close by thy side;
"My hands have prepared it, though narrow, and
"With a winding-sheet only our limbs to infold :-
""Tis there I would sleep with my Bride."
Then, frantickly laughing, a dagger he drew,
And sheath'd the keen point in his breast;
Poor Alleyn distracted, his arms fondly threw
Round his now dying Mabel, kind, lovely, and true;
And his lips to her cold lips he press'd.
On his bosom so faithful her breath she resign'd,
And her eyelids his trembling hand closed,
Two moons, the sad lover in solitude pined;
Ere the third rose full-orb'd, his pale corse was con-
sign'd
To the grave where his Mabel reposed.
At the end of the hamlet, where four roads unite,
The suicide's relicks are laid;
A stake marks the spot, half conceal'd from the sight
By nightshade, and hemlock;—and adders delight
To lurk mid' the poisonous shade.
Now traditions report, when the year has roll'd round,
And St. Andrew's vigil returns ;
The death-bell is heard deep and solemn to sound,
And Hubert's thin shade thrice encircles the mound
Where the lovers are buried, and mourns.
But on May's earliest morn, the fair maids of the vale
O'er the green sward bespangled with dew,
(While they weep at remembrance of Mabel's sad tale)
Strew bright purple pansies, and primroses pale,
With hare-bells and violets blue.
And at Midsummer oft' by the stars silver light,
Love-spells o'er the cold earth they weave;
The oracular herb *, with each mystical rite
On the yew boughs suspending to augur aright,
If their lovers are true, or deceive.
There too village Brides, with their Bridegrooms repair, Ere at Hymen's pure altars they bow;
Join their hands o'er the turf which conceals the fond pair,
While a soft tear to pity from rapture they spare ;
And plight the reciprocal vow.
* Telephium roseum, Orpine, or rose-root. Vulg. Midsummer-men.
WHEN fiercely raves the arctic storm,
And howling winds the seas deform,
O'er shaking hills I urge my car
To rule the elemental war.
Proud Nature owns my potent sway,
And trembling bows before my throne,
While round her form the lightnings play,
I mock the feeble sufferer's groan:
'Tis mine the boundless deep to heave
In mountains to the gates of heaven,
And mine the cloud-formed gloom to weave,
Whose shades involve the polar Even.
When round the struggling vessel's keel
The ocean's maddening waves congeal,
And the dim moon, with crimsoned rays,
Upon the stiffened canvass plays,
How the blood freezes in each vein,
While they that far from home exil'd
Behold the waters of the main
In crystal mountains round them pil'd!
Yet still they hope these scenes to brave,
To tread the icy-mantled sea,—
I seal their doom, no power can save,
Or my devoted victims free!
Obedient to my dread behest,
The whirlwind's breath rends Ocean's breast,
While Ruin scorns Distraction's cry,
The frantic sufferers shriek-and die.
Lo the fond mother scales the height
Whose brow defies the tempest wild,
And there she spends the fearful night,
To hail her long expected child;
Her hoary locks float on the storm,
Fierce on her head the wild winds beat,
When from the deep her son's pale form
I toss at her convulsing feet.
While Frenzy fires her straining eye,
Her piercing accents rend the sky;
As wild she tears her silvered hair,
That falls upon her bosom bare;
Now Death smiles dimly on his prey,
As the lost maniac to her breast
Clasps the beloved insensate clay,
And plunges in the watry waste.
These are the triumphs of my reign,
And these the trophies of my power,
When riding on the wintry main
I rule Destruction's fated hour.
From the dark bosom of the cloud,
That bears my form o'er Lapland's flood,
The meteor's vivid flame I urge,
Far glittering o'er the icy surge:
Lured by its ray the native braves
The unknown horrours of the dell,
Where scowling night in gelid caves,
On darkness throned, delights to dwell.
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