As the shades of glamory depart— Strange thoughts are glimmering round her'; Quicker and quicker her breath is flowing, And her eye gleams out from its long dark lashes, Fast and full, unnatural flashes; For hurriedly and wild Doth Reason pour her hidden treasures, And "oh !" she saith, "my spirit doth seem You that are young may picture the rest, You that are young and fair. Never before, on this warm land, Came Love and Reason hand in hand. When you are blest, in childhood's years With the brightest hopes and the lightest fears, Where a greener glow was on the ground, And a purer life in the gay sunbeam, And have you not lingered, lingered still, All unfettered in thought and will, A fair and cherished boy; Until you felt it pain to part From the wild creations of your art, And then, oh then, hath your waking eye And seen your mother leaning o'er you, And drink, in one o'erflowing kiss, Your deep reality of bliss? Such was LILLIAN's passionate madness, Such was the calm of her waking gladness. Enough! my tale is all too long: Fair children, if the trifling song, Hath stolen from you one gay laugh, Or given your quiet hearts to quaff One cup of young delight, Pay ye the rhymer for his toils In the coinage of your golden smiles, And treasuré up his idle verse, With the stories ye loved from the lips of your nurse. THE BRIDAL OF BELMONT. A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. WHERE foams and flows the glorious Rhine, Majestic in its dark decay. Among their dim clouds, long ago, They mocked the battles that raged below, Where foams and flows the glorious Rhine, Many a fierce and fiery lord Did carve the meat, and pour the wine, For all that revelled at his board. Father and son, they were all alike, Firm to endure, and fast to strike; Little they loved but a Frau or a feast, More trusty of heart, or more stout of hand, Are you rich, single, and your Grace'? Before you leave your travelling carriage, Is found to have the sweetest canter; And Jane 's so bold when you are driving! Some recollect your father's habits, And know the warren, and the rabbits! The place is really princely-only They 're sure you 'll find it vastly lonely. You go to Cheltenham, for the waters, Lo! Lady Anne and Lady Eva. In horror of another session, You just surrender at discretion, And live to curse the frauds of mothers, Count Otto bowed, Count Otto smiled, As the sun may think of the clouds that play As the Count rode up to her father's gate; Many a maid shed tears of pain, As the count rode back to his Tower again; But little he cared, as it should seem; For the sad, sad tear, or the fond, fond dream— As the owl that dwells in the hollow tree: It was almost the first of May: The young Count clambered down the rock, |