And that we meet, and that we part; And that I drink within mine ear,

And that I clasp around my heart, Her sweet still voice, and soft caresses!

"Not in the waking thought by day,

Not in the sightless dream by night, Do the mild tones and glances play,

Of her who was my cradle's light! But in some twilight of calm weather, She glides, by fancy dimly wrought, A glittering cloud, a darkling beam, With all the quiet of a thought,

And all the passion of a dream, Linked in a golden spell together!"

Oh! Vidal's very soul did weep

Whene'er that music, like a charm,

Brought back from their unlistening sleep
The kissing lip and clasping arm.
But quiet tears are worth, to some,
The richest smiles in Christendom ;
And Vidal, though in folly's ring

He seemed so weak and wild a thing,

Had yet an hour, when none were by,
For reason's thought, and passion's sigh,
And knew and felt, in heart and brain,
The Paradise of buried pain!

And Vidal rose at break of day,

And found his heart unbroken;

And told his beads, and went away,
On a steed he had bespoken;

His bonnet he drew his eyelids o'er,

For tears were like to blind him ;

And he spurred Sir Guy o'er mount and moor, With a long dull journey all before,

And a short gay squire behind him.

And the neighbourhood much marvel had;

And all who saw did say,

The weather and the roads were bad,

And either Vidal had run mad,

Or Guy had run away

!

Oh! when a cheek is to be dried,

All pharmacy is folly;

And Vidal knew, for he had tried,

There's nothing like a rattling ride
For curing melancholy !

Three days he rode all mad and mute;

And when the sun did pass,

Three nights he supp'd upon dry fruit,

And slept upon wet

grass.

Beneath an oak, whose hundred years

Had formed fit shade for talk or tears,
On the fourth day he lay at noon,

And put his gilt guitar in tune;
When suddenly swept by,

In gold and silver all arrayed,

A most resplendent cavalcade;

Baron and Beauty, Knave and Knight,

And lips of love, and eyes of light,

All blended dazzlingly.

Ay! all the world that day came out,

With horse and horn, and song and shout;

And belles and bouquets gayly bloomed,

And all were proud, and all perfumed,

And gallants, as the humour rose,
Talked any nonsense that they chose,
And damsel gave the reins for fun
Alike to palfrey and to pun.

It chanced no lady had been thrown,

No heir had cracked his collar-bone,

So pleasure laughed on every cheek,

And nought, save saddles, dreamed of pique. And brightest of that brilliant train,

With jewelled bit, and gilded rein,

And pommel clothed in gorgeous netting,

And courser daintily curvetting,

Girt round with gallant Cavaliers,
Some deep in love, and some in years,
Half exquisites and half absurds,

All babbling of their beasts and birds,
Quite tired of trumpeting and talking,
The Baroness returned from hawking.

The lady halted; well she might;

For Vidal was so fair,

You would have thought some god of light Had walked to take the air;

Bare were both his delicate hands,

And the hue on his cheek was high,

As woman's when she understands

Her first fond lover's sigh;
And desolate very, and very dumb,

And rolling his eyes of blue,

And rubbing his forehead, and biting his thumb,

As lyrists and lovers do.

Like Queen Titania's darling pet,

Or Oberon's wickedest elf,

He lay beside a rivulet,

And looked beside himself;

And belles full blown, and beaux full drest,
Stood there with smirk and smile,

And many a finger, and many a jest,
Were pointed all the while.

Then Vidal came, and bent his knees

Before the lady there,

And raised his bonnet, that the breeze

Might trifle with his hair;

And said, he was a nameless youth,
Had learned betimes to tell the truth,
Could greet a friend, and grasp a foe,
Could take a jest, and give a blow,
Had no idea of false pretences,
Had lost his father, and his senses,
Was travelling over land and sea,
Armed with guitar and gallantry;