The fair Isabel of Cotehele a Cornish romance, in six cantos. By the author of Local attachment, and translator of Theocritus [i.e. Richard Polwhele] |
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The fair Isabel of Cotehele | ||
XIX.
But quickly with his form, his face,From memory well nigh fled the trace
Of vows, fictitious or sincere,
Which never met her patient ear.
And to her Edward at the cave,
While glided fast “the haunted eve,”
She had not of Erizey told—
To her, his warmest suit was cold.
'Twas then, amidst their favourite bower,
Was pass'd by stealth the unvalued hour!
163
Perhaps to speak that suitor's name
Were but to wake a jealous flame!
The fair Isabel of Cotehele | ||