Malvern Hills with Minor Poems, and Essays. By Joseph Cottle. Fourth Edition |
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ELEANOR DE MONTFORD's PRISON SONG. |
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 | Malvern Hills |  |
ELEANOR DE MONTFORD's PRISON SONG.
I
THE sun is up, the air is still,The firmament is fair and glowing;
All things with joy their chalice fill,
And softly Severn now is flowing;
But what to me can joyance bear,
While bolts, and prison bars surround me?
Forms of delight, so sweet that were,
Like ghosts of long-lost friends, confound me.
II
The captive in a foreign clime,Who on the breeze may waft his ditty;
Who chants, to soothe the tedious time,
The song which rocks might move to pity;
What are his cares compared with mine?
The sad, deserted, child of sorrow!
His prospects, with the morn, may shine,
But I expect no glad to-morrow.
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III
The joys which once I call'd my own,Like happy spirits, pass before me;
From anguish and the ceaseles moan,
Their fairy smiles again restore me;
Once more the sportive maid I seem,
Which late, thy groves, Montargis! found me;
Till, starting from the faithless dream,
A thousand terrors rise around me.
IV
Thy daughter, best of friends, and true!Couldst thou behold her, O my Mother!
Oh! couldst thou now thy sister view,
Brave Amoury, my noble brother;
Alas! withhold your grief for me,
Oh! precious names! the one, the other,
I have a tear to shed for ye,
My Amoury! my wretched mother!
V
And, O Llewellyn! brave as free,Above all spirits proudly soaring;
Shall I forget thy cause, and thee,
When other gifts, devout, imploring?
While 'tiring from the mortal fray,
Or on thy foes vindictive pressing;
My heart, O Prince! shall earnest pray
That thou may'st share heaven's choicest blessing!
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