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Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III

Keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's Abbey, a metrical tale; With some poetical pieces. By Anne Radcliffe ... To which is prefixed: A memoir of the author, with extracts from her journals. In four volumes
Radcliffe, Ann Ward (1764-1823)

collapse sectionI. 
VOL. I.
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GASTON DE BLONDEVILLE.
  
THE BRIDAL.
  
[O'er the high western wolds afar]
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VOL III, IV.
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ST. ALBAN'S ABBEY:
  
[prologue]
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CANTO I. THE ABBEY.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
  
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
 XXXI. 
XXXI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
XXXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX.
 XL. 
XL.
 XLI. 
XLI.
 XLII. 
XLII.
 XLIII. 
XLIII.
 II. 
CANTO II. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE FIRST BATTLE.
 III. 
CANTO III. THE DAY OF THE FIRST BATTLE.
 IV. 
CANTO IV. THE HOUR AFTER THE BATTLE.
 V. 
CANTO V. THE EVENING AFTER THE BATTLE.
 VI. 
CANTO VI. THE EVENING AFTER THE BATTLE.
 VII. 
CANTO VII. SCENE IN THE MONASTERY.
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CANTO VIII. SOLEMN WATCH WITHIN THE ABBEY.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
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III.
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IV.
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V.
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VI.
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VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
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IX.
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X.
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XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
 XXXI. 
XXXI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX.
 XL. 
XL.
 XLI. 
XLI.
 XLII. 
XLII.
 IX. 
CANTO IX. AMONG THE DEAD.
 X. 
CANTO X. AMONG THE DEAD.
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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
  
SALISBURY PLAINS.
  
SHAKSPEARE'S CLIFF.
  
THE FISHERS.
  
IN THE NEW FOREST.
  
ON A FIRST VIEW OF THE GROUP CALLED THE SEVEN MOUNTAINS;
  
A SECOND VIEW OF THE SEVEN MOUNTAINS.
  
ON ASCENDING A HILL CROWNED WITH A CONVENT.
  
THE SNOW-FIEND.
  
AN ANCIENT BEECH-TREE. IN THE PARK, AT KNOLE.
  
SEA-VIEWS.
  
TO THE SWALLOW.
  
FOREST LAWNS.
  
ON THE RONDEAU, “JUST LIKE LOVE IS YONDER ROSE.”
  
DECEMBER'S EVE, ABROAD.
  
DECEMBER'S EVE, AT HOME.
  
A SEA-VIEW.
  
ON HAYLEY'S LIFE OF COWPER.
  
WRITTEN IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.
  
SONNET TO THE LARK.
  
ON READING THE FOLLOWING BEAUTIFUL LINES, WRITTEN BY THE LATE LADY ELIZABETH LEE, SISTER OF EARL HARCOURT,
  
TO THE RIVER DOVE.
  
THE SEA-MEW.
  
TO THE WINDS.
  
MOONLIGHT.
  
SMILES.
  
THE REED OF POESY.
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EDWY.
 I. 
PART I. THE HAZEL TREE.
 II. 
PART II. THE FAIRIE COURT.
 III. 
PART III. THE MAGIC MIRRORS.
  
SCENE ON THE NORTHERN SHORE OF SICILY.

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XXXII.

By the north pillars of the nave,
Four dedicated altars stood;
Each bore a victim for the grave,
And now was stained with noble blood:
They faced those arches, sharp and tall,
Where Offa and his beauteous queen,
And Edward of the saintly mien,
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And mitred Lanfranc still are seen,
Bending from carved capital,
As watching o'er this mortal scene.
Now, listen; for 'tis fearful all—
All, that beneath Fitzharding's eye
Lay, as he watched in gallery.
He saw monks to this spot draw nigh,
And o'er a pallid figure bend,
And search again, if living breath
Might linger in such shape of death;
Then, silently, the limbs extend;
And—by the glare the torches threw
On the gashed face beneath his view,
Upon St. Scytha's altar laid—
Saw them the countenance compose,
O'er the glazed eye the eye-lid close
For ever—ever! in Death's shade!
And, while he marked that awful sight,
It seemed, by thrill of sympathy,
As if cold fingers did alight
Upon his lids, and on them lie.
A horror ran through all his frame;
But this more painful pang o'ercame—
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It seemed to him, that his sight now,
While resting on the form below,
Might view his father laid in death!
With frenzied gaze he sought to know
More certainly the face beneath—
In vain! The torch's wavering glare
To gallery high, through depth of air,
Showed but a wan, dead visage there.
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