 | Redwald |  |
Yet, scarce she caught the airy strain
'Twas sunk, and all was hush'd again:
She look'd around in wild amaze,
When to her quick and startled gaze,
Close at her side a form appear'd,
That youthful friendship once endear'd;
'Twas Mable, such before her view
As when she bade her last adieu!
Ere Edith's hopes and doubts were fled,
A sudden change the form o'erspread,
Wet stream'd her garments, and her hair
Hung dripping o'er her shoulders bare,
Her cheek, as pale and cold as snow,
Was stamp'd with deep and deadly woe;
Her large dark eyes with splendour shone,
But such as earth has never known;
Their solemn, fix'd, and dread controul
Appall'd each sense of Edith's soul!
The figure rais'd a hand that seem'd
Embody'd shade—which dimly gleam'd,
Scarce evident to mortal sight,
Like the pale glimmering beam of light
That breaks the mists of morn away,
And comes the first to promise day.
She wav'd it thrice, then slowly said,
In accents heard but from the dead:
“False to the oath thy father swore,
“Return and seek thy home once more,
“He who the first shall meet thee there,
“Tho' calm his looks—his words tho' fair,
“They shall his guilt no longer hide,
“For by his hand lost Mable died!”
The vision ceas'd, and sternly frown'd,
Then melted in the mist around.
'Twas sunk, and all was hush'd again:
She look'd around in wild amaze,
When to her quick and startled gaze,
Close at her side a form appear'd,
That youthful friendship once endear'd;
'Twas Mable, such before her view
As when she bade her last adieu!
Ere Edith's hopes and doubts were fled,
A sudden change the form o'erspread,
Wet stream'd her garments, and her hair
Hung dripping o'er her shoulders bare,
Her cheek, as pale and cold as snow,
Was stamp'd with deep and deadly woe;
Her large dark eyes with splendour shone,
But such as earth has never known;
Their solemn, fix'd, and dread controul
Appall'd each sense of Edith's soul!
The figure rais'd a hand that seem'd
Embody'd shade—which dimly gleam'd,
27
Like the pale glimmering beam of light
That breaks the mists of morn away,
And comes the first to promise day.
She wav'd it thrice, then slowly said,
In accents heard but from the dead:
“False to the oath thy father swore,
“Return and seek thy home once more,
“He who the first shall meet thee there,
“Tho' calm his looks—his words tho' fair,
“They shall his guilt no longer hide,
“For by his hand lost Mable died!”
The vision ceas'd, and sternly frown'd,
Then melted in the mist around.
| Redwald | |