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Dunluce Castle, A Poem

Edited by Sir Egerton Brydges
Quillinan, Edward (1791-1851)

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DUNLUCE CASTLE,
 I. 
PART I.
 II. 
PART II.
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PART III.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
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PART IV.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.

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III.

But now as he approach'd, a form
That seem'd no nursling of the storm,
But rather some seraphic thing,
That in the storm had bruis'd its wing,
And underneath the crashing wood,
As if in fearful shelter, stood;
A moment glitter'd on his sight;
And then again was lost in night,
As lent a flitting coruscation
Its momentary scintillation!
47

“What may this be! I know it well;
'Tis Marion's spectre come to tell:”
He paus'd—he durst not tell his heart,
The madness that would cheat his brain;
But, lo! the tempest's visage swart
Is lighted with a flash again;
A vast and widely flaring blaze,
That right athwart him flings its rays;
And there! O God! it is indeed,
No idle shape of Fancy's breed!
'Tis Marion's self is standing there!
On Owen's eyes, with wondering glare,
Her eyes an instant dwelling;
And now on his her cheek is sobbing;
Her breast upon his breast is throbbing,
Its pang of rapture telling!
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