L 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 /5f 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In writing the following Poem, ray object was not, 
 as it may appear, to attempt a condemnation of the 
 Eomish Church. At the period when the events 
 recounted in " Elyfnor" are supposed to have taken 
 place, the Church, as it then stood, was one of the 
 high roads to fame, wealth, and power. The 
 worldly position thus offered, induced a certain class 
 of men to enter the sacred office for no other object 
 than self-aggrandisement. Once in, such men as 
 
 85S9^
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 these can have had little compunction as to what 
 they did, so long as they placed a fair exterior before 
 the world's eye, while they secretly worked their 
 way to the ambition of their lives. With power at 
 their command, and the miserable means the public 
 had of obtaining information, it is scarcely to be 
 wondered at, that crimes as vile as any which history 
 can show took place under the shadow of the Eomish 
 Church ; the blame of which she nas had to bear, 
 while these her professed children, but bitterest 
 enemies, reaped the sole benefit of their guilt. 
 
 It has been my endeavour to portray one of these 
 characters in Abnyard, but far be it from me to say 
 that the unperverted creed of Rome was ever intended 
 as a screen for crimes condemned alike by God and 
 man. That such men as these had brought the 
 Church to a state not to be tolerated by the laity, is 
 evident from the fact of the Eeformation. A gigantic
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 effort such as this is seldom attempted unless ren- 
 dered absolutely necessary, for we well knw that 
 those who were in any way the instruments by 
 which this effect was produced, risked the torments 
 of an agonising death. 
 
 That the two Churches — the Reformed and the 
 Romish — waged bitter warfare against each other, is 
 of course an historical fact ; and it is more than 
 probable that in the majority of cases, the judges on 
 either side were in no worldly way benefited by the 
 deaths of the accused. To these I have not alluded, 
 being a class to which Abnyard did not belong. As a 
 worldly man with a cunning brain, he saw the way to 
 power, attended with least risk, lay in the paths of the 
 Church, and chose his vocation for temporal enhance- 
 ment only ; but at the same time evincing an enthu- 
 siasm he did not feel, which he used as a lever to 
 raise himself in the estimation of men. Against the
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 actions of the true children of the Romish doctrine I 
 have not attempted an argument of any kind, since 
 the Reformed Church herself is not in a position to 
 cast the stone ; nor do I think such a position can 
 be established while Ireland and her history exist. 

 
 To Thee, to whose firm guiding hand we owe, 
 Through God, the savimg of our ship from wreck, 
 When o'er the breast of Fortune's roughest sea 
 Our small bark struggled through the seething foam; 
 While ships of greater size swept on as though 
 They rode the smoother surface of a lake. 
 Cross currents, storms, and adverse winds did bar 
 The progress of our course, but still thy hand 
 Obey'd the dictates of a mind that saw 
 A smoother sea beyond. The light of Hope 
 Shone through the clouds that gather'd in the sky, 
 And nerv'd thy mind to this thy weary task. 
 But when at last the threat'ning waves came still, 
 And changing Fortune sail'd our ship beside, 
 And Spring did smile upon a Winter past, 
 Thou, whose firm hand had held the helm so long, 
 Wast swept away, for, lo, thy work was done.
 
 
 The howling Wind went sweeping by, 
 
 Beside the winter blast ; 
 His wings were spreading open wide, 
 
 As on he hurried fast. 
 O'er moor, o'er river, land and lake, 
 
 His aerial path did tread : 
 While 'cross the ocean's mighty span, 
 
 Was heard his song of dread.
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 With furious glee, the breakers he 
 
 Did toss, 'mid deaf ning roar, 
 And high the white spray dashing up, 
 
 Along the sand-strewn shore ; 
 "While far in the deep mid ocean, 
 
 Hard struggling through the gale, 
 Flew gallant ships, their haggard crews, 
 
 All drench'd, and deathlike pale. 
 He saw faint hope light up each face, 
 
 The Wind what care had he? 
 Their hopes he swept along his path, 
 
 Athwart the stormy sea. 
 Leaving then the watery waste, 
 
 He sped to find the shore, 
 And let the angry, surging waves, 
 
 Without him fight their war. 
 He cours'd along the mountain side, 
 
 That sought to make him stay, 
 And shrieking down through deep defiles, 
 
 He fore'd his headlong way.
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 With unseen strength he onward drove, 
 The clouds that ride the sky ; 
 
 And changing each fantastic shape, 
 As swift they floated by. 
 
 Whistling, moaning, howling, sighing, 
 Destroying with his stormy pow'r ; 
 
 While from some far distant turret, 
 
 Old Time peal'd forth the midnight hour. 
 
 Listening to the being that broke 
 The stillness of the night, 
 
 Lay the dying Lady Aveline, 
 With face of marble white ;
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 The pain of her earthly sickness, 
 
 Had threaten'd, come, and gone ; 
 Free from the wasting body's pain, 
 
 All silent, and alone 
 She lay, while the cold conviction, 
 
 Of death drew deep the sigh, 
 For when youth lies bright before us, 
 
 How hard it is to die. 
 And Memory, at Death's bidding, 
 
 Across the weary brain, 
 Brought back the pictures of the past, 
 
 And drew them all again, 
 The storm, like some enchanting mind, 
 
 Cast o'er her soul a spell, 
 Which the will, with illness weaken'd, 
 
 "Would strive in vain to quell. 
 And the "Wind did mould her fancy, 
 
 His passage deep and fast, 
 Made in swift and strong commotion, 
 
 Each thought go hurr'ing past,
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 Until, the unequal struggle 
 Brought an exhaustion deep ; 
 
 And a kindly respite granted, 
 Beneath the wings of sleep. 
 
 By slow degrees the storm at length 
 
 Its height began to wane, 
 The moon, between half-broken clouds, 
 
 Shone o'er the scene again. 
 The earth once more in silence wrapt, 
 
 Slept 'neath the peaceful shade 
 Of gather'd darkness, where no more, 
 
 The vivid light'ning play'd ; 
 And all the scenery around, 
 
 'Came hushed in night once more ; 
 Like a deserted battle-field, 
 
 After a day of war.
 
 EL VISOR. 
 
 The change, that brought to others sleep, 
 
 Awoke fair Aveline, 
 Woke, but a deep tranquillity 
 
 Came over all within ; 
 Then speaking, in low trembling tones 
 
 She call'd the tending maid ; 
 Who hast'niug quickly to her side, 
 
 This message straight she bade : 
 " Ere the brightness of the morrow 
 
 Shall gild the sky so free, 
 Strange voices that are not of earth, 
 
 From earth will summon me. 
 Go, tell thy Lord, his Lady, I, 
 
 My last farewell would take ; 
 For me, when darkness leaves the sky 
 
 No earthly pow'r shall wake." 
 
 Soon the door was softly open'd, 
 With gentle tread and sly ;
 
 ELVfXOli. 
 
 A monk, in robes of woven wool, 
 
 The portal glided by. 
 "With folded arms he came and stood, 
 
 Beside the dying bed, 
 And from that smooth and shaven faee 
 
 Fair Pity long had fled ; 
 His hands were small, and clean, and white, 
 
 His form was thin and spare, 
 Deep sunk the eyes beneath the brow, 
 
 Of sable black his hair 
 Was once, but now the shaven pate, 
 
 Did Nature's care disdain, 
 For smooth and polish'd was the skull, 
 
 That hid his thoughtful brain. 
 
 As thus he stood, with firmer tread 
 Through the opening door, 
 
 There stcpt the Lord of Earlingford, 
 Lord Edward Earlingmore.
 
 ELVIXOR. 
 
 He gazed upon the fading form, 
 
 The cheek so sad and pale, 
 That blush'd but three short years ago 
 
 Beneath a bridal veil ; 
 The finger that had trembled so, 
 
 When first the wedding ring 
 Fell o'er it, then of goodly shape, 
 
 But now a wasted thing. 
 He gently knelt down by her side, 
 
 Look'd sadly in the face, 
 That ere the form of sickness came 
 
 Shone with every grace, 
 That gathers round a woman's form ; 
 
 To please the eye of man, 
 The frost of death had bitten them, 
 
 They wither'd, and were gone. 
 As Edward's eye met now her glance, 
 
 It quiver'd as he spoke ; 
 His voice in low yet manly tones, 
 
 Thus first the silence broke :
 
 ELVTNOR. 
 
 " Sweet Aveline, I did not deem 
 
 When thou becam'st mine own, 
 I should live to see thee wither, 
 
 Should live to know thee gone ; 
 But fancied, from the battlefield, 
 
 By archer's bow laid low, 
 Mine own good men would carry me, 
 
 And ere my soul should go ; 
 It should see thy sweet form again, 
 
 Then render up its life ; 
 Nor thought to be a widower, 
 
 But thou a widow'd wife. 
 God knows I love thee, Aveline, 
 
 Though stern mine outward mould, 
 My heart though often cas'd in steel, 
 
 Towards thee hath ne'er been cold. 
 He felt the hand within his own 
 
 Tremble, and tighter grow,
 
 10 ELVIXOH. 
 
 And then began Av'line to speak 
 In tone both weak and low. 
 
 " Hark, Edward, to the moaning sigh, 
 
 The storm is nearly spent, 
 But while its fury rag'd around 
 
 My heart and brain were rent 
 AYith visions of a coming war, 
 
 That delug'd earth with blood, 
 Each nation seem'd to pour its stream, 
 
 Into one common flood. 
 What was the cause I could not see, 
 
 For the darkliest hue 
 Of mystery, did shroud it round, 
 
 And hid it from my view. 
 While pondering, the vision changed, 
 
 Methought my soul had fled 
 From earth, and that many a year 
 
 Of time its course had sped.
 
 ELVINOH. 11 
 
 I look'd, and lo the castle here, 
 
 With music loud and strong 
 Rang out, while hall and courtyard too 
 
 Were rill'd with merry throng ; 
 But mingling with the many there, 
 
 Two forms I could not see, — 
 Thy step was not among them all, 
 
 Our daughter, where was she ? 
 Methought I search'd, and found thee not, 
 
 A sense came o'er my soul, 
 And gliding forth with angel-wings, 
 
 Distinctly I heard toll 
 A bell of dismal harmony, — 
 
 It toll'd, and then it ceas'd, 
 Again, anon, its cold, cold voice 
 
 Became once more releas'd. 
 I follow'd, and it led me to 
 
 A bygone battle plain ;
 
 12 ELVIXOR. 
 
 While seeking round the dismal soil 
 
 What would the sound explain, 
 All suddenly its voice was still ; 
 
 I stood and waited there, 
 The moon came gently stealing out 
 
 Across the plain so bare ; 
 But no belfry was there near me, 
 
 In all the plain around, 
 No convent yet nor castle rose 
 
 Upon that war-stain'd ground 
 
 Within one shelter'd shadow'd nook 
 
 There stood an old oak tree, 
 Its branches, wafted by the wind, 
 
 Did seem to beckon me ; 
 I walk'd, and soon did stand beneath 
 
 Its branches stout and wide, 
 And lo, thy shadow seem'd to rise 
 
 And stand the tree beside.
 
 ELVIXOR. 13 
 
 Tliy face was pale, and through thy form 
 
 The moon her pale light shone. 
 I spoke, but thou no answer gav'st, 
 
 And wast next moment gODe. 
 'Twas then I knew beneath that tree 
 
 Thou, Edward, cold didst lie, 
 Left, on that dismal battle plain, 
 
 Untended there to die ; 
 And knew, alas, our fair young child, 
 
 Alone on this bleak earth, 
 Was left to some cold guardian's care, 
 
 Who ne'er would love her worth. 
 
 Weeping I stood, and lo the sound 
 Of gently murmur'd prayer, 
 
 Was borne upon the passing breeze 
 That softly stirr'd the air ; 
 
 All suddenly a darkness came, 
 AncI fell o'er both mine eyes, —
 
 U ELVlxnn. 
 
 Their sight returning, saw no more 
 The starlit summer skies. 
 
 Within a damp and gloomy cell, 
 
 All built of hard grey stone, 
 Along the outer side of which 
 
 The dank green moss had grown, 
 I stood, and saw an angel face, 
 
 Enwrapt in earth's dull clay, 
 Whence the soul shone out in brightness, 
 
 Like fair celestial day ; 
 The form that yet belong'd to earth 
 
 A grace enchanting wore, 
 Yet mark of slow consuming death 
 
 Diffus'd each feature o'er 
 Of that young face, so sadly pale ; 
 
 Whence youthful bloom had gone — 
 But not by years of mortal life 
 
 Was Nature's colour won ;
 
 ELVINOR. 15 
 
 'Twas the cold hand of earthly pain, 
 
 That wasted lay and bare, 
 The face and form where beauteous grace 
 
 Had laid her treasures rare. 
 I long'd to clasp within mine arms 
 
 The form I knew so well, 
 But no power had the spirit 
 
 To break its mystic spell. 
 While sorrowfully gazing there 
 
 I trembled and I spoke, 
 The wind then swept my dream away, 
 
 And weeping, I awoke." 
 
 Exhausting had the effort been 
 
 So long a tale to tell, 
 With fainter breath fair Aveline 
 
 Back on her pillow fell. — 
 Her eyes were clos'd, as weary and 
 
 Impassive still she lay.
 
 10 EL VIXOR. 
 
 "While thus, in vrhisp'rrag tones the monk 
 To Earlingmore did say : 
 
 " Exhausted nature needs relief, 
 
 Let quiet now spread o'er 
 The mind, and sleep perchance may bring, 
 
 Her youthful life once more ; 
 Go thou, and I will follow thee, 
 
 And all in stillness keep, 
 For life and death, hang on the breath 
 
 Of this most timely sleep." 
 
 Lord Earlingmore arose and went, 
 While sorrow's deepest pain 
 
 O'erspread his face, yet Nature's tears 
 Were held back by the chain, 
 
 Of a superior stronger will 
 That wished for silent grief,
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 And hated tears when shed hy man, 
 
 E'en tho' they caus'd relief ; 
 But his face was deeply furrow'd, 
 
 As through the hall he pass'd, 
 In silence reach'd the secret room, 
 
 The door he bolted fast ; 
 And stay'd alone, till darkness deep 
 
 Gave place to morning bright, 
 And earth arose all radiant, 
 
 To greet the Lord of light. 
 
 Upon her deathbed, Aveline 
 
 Was silent still and cold, 
 Her two white hands impassive lay, 
 
 Beneath Death's icy hold ; 
 For the chamber he had enter'd 
 
 Ere dark'ning night had sped, 
 And in the light of morning bright 
 
 Fair Aveline lay dead.
 
 ELVIXOR. 19 
 
 (Blisinox. 
 
 In the AVest the sun declining, 
 
 Foretold the close of day, 
 
 As blushing earth received the kiss 
 Of each departing ray ; 
 
 A happy peace and harmony 
 Seem'd o'er the landscape wide, 
 
 While the setting sun was tinting, 
 The grass-grown mountain side.
 
 '20 ELV1N0R. 
 
 All seera'd on that bright evening, 
 
 So peaceful and so still ; 
 As gently cours'd the winding stream, 
 
 And rippling flow'd the rill. 
 Distant harmonious music low 
 
 Broke o'er the still cool air, 
 Like the gentle whispering, of 
 
 An angel's pleading prayer ; 
 It came from the convent archway, 
 
 "Whose grey walls peep'd between, 
 The high and stately mountain tree- 1 , 
 
 That sought to intervene. 
 
 While the eastern skies were spreading, 
 
 With rising form of night ; 
 Whose borders yet were fring'd around 
 
 With bright and golden light, 
 Fair earth herself preparing was 
 
 For silence and for rest ;
 
 EL VI NOR. 21 
 
 Her lord and master sinking down 
 
 Behind the distant west ; 
 For with him wan'd the evening, 
 
 And disappeared the light ; 
 Earth's bright blushes covering, with 
 
 The mantle of the night. 
 
 Such was the still calm evening, 
 
 As from the turret high, 
 Stood watching, o'er the scene that lay 
 
 Beneath the tranquil sky ; 
 The daughter fair, of Earlingmore, 
 
 Whose still and sadden'd face, 
 Gaz'd along by the mountain side ; 
 
 As though her mind could trace 
 Some road of fancy hidden there 
 
 That piere'd its pondrous size, 
 And open left the way before 
 
 The gaze of those bright eyes.
 
 22 ELVINOR. 
 
 As she stood, the soft wind gently, 
 
 Stir'd each fair tress that fell 
 About her, and in soft shadows, 
 
 There came a mystic spell, 
 Of golden colour o'er her face ; 
 
 As the fast dying hue, 
 Of fainter, and yet fainter light, 
 
 Her hair came shining through. 
 Still, motionless, and silent stay'd, 
 
 That form of gentle grace ; 
 The sign of absent thoughtfulness, 
 
 Array'd upon her face, 
 Did hold her mind enchanted, with 
 
 The spell of reverie ; 
 As Fancy made each ideal thought 
 
 Seem a reality. 
 
 Of what then canst thou be thinking ? 
 Perchance dost thou await
 
 ELVINOR. 2:\ 
 
 Some lover of thy beauty fair, 
 
 Who thus can tarry late ? 
 But no, methinks thy face is sad, 
 
 No lover can it be, 
 That wraps so young and fair a face 
 
 In sorrow's mystery. 
 Of what then canst thou be thinking ? 
 
 For on thy face is spread, 
 The fancy of some hidden thought, 
 
 That Memory has shed. 
 Think'st thou of one who is not, 
 
 And who in time before, 
 Strew'd pleasures in thy childhood's path, 
 
 Yet lives for thee no more ? 
 Of one whose spirit from this earth, 
 
 Has wing'd its course away ; 
 Yet comes again to see thee, as 
 
 Declines the light of day ? 
 For oft the thoughts of evening 
 
 Bring, veil'd by nightly shade,
 
 >2i ELVINOR. 
 
 The shadows of long absent ones, 
 
 "While Memory doth wade 
 Back through the course of years gone by, 
 
 And gently sings her lay ; 
 While Fancy pictures bygone times, 
 
 As though they were to-day. 
 
 "lis thus in reverie we raise 
 
 The ghost of absent woes, 
 While again each wither'd pleasure, 
 
 In Mem'ry's shadow glows ; 
 And 'tis thus the lonely mourner, 
 
 linear' d for, and unknown, 
 Watches old forms rise around him, 
 
 Creations of his own, — 
 Sad spells, that can be broken, by 
 
 A cinder on the hearth, 
 The dreamer wakes to misery, 
 
 To sorrow, and to earth.
 
 ELVlNOli. 25 
 
 It was perchance a week before, 
 
 That ev'ning, calm and bright, 
 Did at the castle drawbridge straight, 
 
 A messenger alight; 
 Dress'd in the garb of soldier true, 
 
 His horse of goodly breed ; 
 Impatient pawing, as he stood, 
 
 The long and sun dried mead. 
 The narrow bridge they lower'd soon, 
 
 And clanking o'er it rode, 
 The messenger in armour bright, 
 
 That bloody war furbode. 
 Lord Edward stood within the hall, 
 
 Around his vassals true 
 Were grouped, and all full eager were, 
 
 For aught of warlike hue. 
 The knight, for such was his degree, 
 
 A stalwart man and strong,
 
 26 FJA'IXOR. 
 
 Saw each was eager for the new-, 
 Nor kept them waiting long : 
 
 " And now, Lord Edward Earlingmore, 
 
 These news I bring to you. 
 This morning five good knights arose, 
 
 To ride North Country through, 
 And summon from the land around 
 
 Bach noble of degree, 
 For aid that we may put to rout 
 
 The northern enemy. 
 For the Scots on yonder border, 
 
 Do gather full and strong ; 
 They promise to give battle, ere 
 
 Another day is gone ; 
 And I have come to bid thee now, 
 
 With all thy vassals near, 
 To aid fair England keep her name 
 
 With sword, and bow, and spear.
 
 ELVINOR. 27 
 
 Nor must thy tarrying be long ; 
 
 I wait to bo thy guide, 
 To swell the gathering forces, 
 
 Upon the border side. 
 While each his armour quickly dons, 
 
 Refresh, I pray, my steed, 
 For swiftly hither did we ride, 
 
 And food we both do need." 
 
 Thus was it came the summoning, 
 
 And e'er the day had sped ; 
 The soldiers from the castle march'd, 
 
 Lord Edward at their head. 
 And since that day no news was heard, 
 
 A week had come and gone : 
 Elvinor, on the turret stood, 
 
 In silence and alone ; 
 All weary doom'd to watching, 
 
 All silently to wait,
 
 28 EL VINOR. 
 
 Till fate some messenger should stay, 
 Beside the castle gate. 
 
 No sound broke through the morning air, 
 
 The earth was still around ; 
 The rising sun called up the mist, 
 
 That gather'd o'er the ground ; 
 In ghastly shrouds, as loth to leave, 
 
 Yet forced to obey ; 
 It clung around each shrub, and tree, 
 
 In white and damp array ; 
 Till lighter, and yet lighter grew, 
 
 Its form of nightly dew, 
 Expanding to transparency, 
 
 'Twas lost in liquid blue. 
 And then, as though a weight were gone, 
 
 From Earth's flower-strewn breast ; 
 The quiet, a thousand voices broke, 
 
 From each surrounding nest ;
 
 ELVINOR. 29 
 
 And flow'rs their odours cast around, 
 
 To scent the morning air, 
 Nor knowing, in their freedom wild, 
 
 Aught of a gard'ner's care. 
 Colours, of ever-changing hue, 
 
 Did clothe the mountain high, 
 And tinting shadows threw across 
 
 The stream that gurgled by ; 
 While through the opening branches, 
 
 The early sunbeams fell, 
 And glancing o'er a silent glade, 
 
 Did break its shadow'd spell. 
 Such was the springtide morning fair, 
 
 As Time the hour of four 
 Struck from the turret, that o'erlook'd 
 
 The lands of Earlingmore. 
 
 Along the winding path that led 
 Unto the castle gate
 
 30 EL VINOR. 
 
 A solitary figure came, 
 
 With slow and nieasur'd gait ; 
 A beard, as white as driven snow, 
 
 Fell o'er the sunken breast ; 
 His tall, but spare and meagre form, 
 
 In long loose robes was dress'd. 
 By the castle portal halting, 
 
 lie blew the sum'ning horn, 
 Nor loud, nor long, for from his lungs 
 
 The strength of youth was gone. 
 
 At length the sleepy porter came, 
 
 "With testy voice, and said, 
 " "Who art thou now, old wanderer, 
 
 Who Christians from their bed 
 Can'st bring at this unearthly hour ? 
 
 Art courier of war ? 
 Methinks a swifter messenger 
 
 Should come from Earlingmore."
 
 ELVINOR. 31 
 
 " Friend," the old man answering said, 
 
 " I do come frcm the plain, 
 AVhere men strive to their latest breatli 
 
 For empty honour's gain, 
 And I with weary steps have brought 
 
 This letter from the war, 
 For he who should have carried it 
 
 Is now alive no more ; 
 But with his dying hand he gave 
 
 This letter to my grasp, 
 And pray'd me, full and earnestly 
 
 "With his last dying gasp, 
 To carry it with all my speed, 
 
 Nor wait an hour's delay ; 
 So I have travell'd through the night 
 
 Till now the dawn of day." 
 The warder took the letter, and 
 
 He turn'd it o'er and o'er,
 
 82 ELVINOR. 
 
 But this, the superscription was, 
 
 "ToElyinor." 
 
 His errand done, the old man then 
 
 In silence went away, 
 'Twixt mountains and the forest trees 
 
 The winding roadway lay. 
 
 The warder, in the mystery 
 
 Of writing, then profound, 
 Was wrapt, and food for wonder in 
 
 The superscription found ; 
 But from his calculations he 
 
 No satisfaction drew, 
 So writing then, as witchcraft curs'd, 
 
 The fate of great things new ; 
 At least so once it used to be, 
 
 But now much older grown 
 The world's become and is so wise 
 
 That all new things are known
 
 ELVIXOR. 
 
 Beneath the sun ; yet still ere long 
 
 Some genius may find, 
 That which may hitherto have been 
 
 Unknown to human mind ; 
 And when that something new is found, 
 
 Unknown to earth's vast school, 
 It then as one exception bright 
 
 "Will go to prove the rule. 
 
 The early morning hours had sped, 
 
 AVhen by the window side 
 Sat Elvinor, the casement small 
 
 AVas open thrown and wide, 
 And slowly wafted on the breath 
 
 Of gently stirring air, 
 There came the sweet and fragrant scents 
 
 Of flowers rich and rare, 
 And with them too the mingled sounds 
 
 Of living things were borne,
 
 34 ELVINOR. 
 
 All happy in the presence of 
 A bright and summer morn. 
 
 Happy, because contented they 
 
 Within the present dwell, 
 Nor seek like man too often does 
 
 The future to foretell, 
 And thus, by anticipation, 
 
 To suffer twice his woe, 
 Or by imagination gild, 
 
 With false and fleeting glow, 
 Each joy he deems the future holds ; 
 
 And long before tis due, 
 He measures, weighs, and studies it ; 
 
 Nor thinking to the view 
 Distance will lend enchantment rare, 
 
 "Which human foresight foils, 
 Thus of our pleasures full one h alf 
 
 Anticipation spoils.
 
 ELVIXOR. 
 
 And yet Anticipation lives, 
 
 Nor ever will she die, 
 While Time exists and future holds 
 
 An unknown mystery. 
 
 Silent and still sat Elvinor, 
 
 The silken cord untied 
 Of the letter, as it rested 
 
 Unopen'd by her side; 
 Yet on its seal one small white hand 
 
 Irresolutely lay, 
 From whose fair slender fingers, gems 
 
 Did glance their sparkling ray. 
 While thoughtfully she gazed in space 
 
 That face seem'd made of thought, 
 O'er which there play'd an ideal world, 
 
 Of f.iirv texture wrought : 
 That hand in hand with Fancy went 
 
 To seek an unknown clime,
 
 36 ELVIXOR. 
 
 Fair borders that have never known 
 
 The hand of mortal time ; 
 A land where all is lighted by 
 
 Imagination's gleam, 
 Who thus the mind, entranc'd will bind 
 
 Within a waking dream, 
 Until the senses all are hush'd 
 
 In stillness vast and deep, 
 And Fancy undisputed reigns, 
 
 Among the vales of Sleep. 
 
 Unopen'd still the packet lay, 
 
 Till broke the reverie 
 Of Elvinor, and swept away 
 
 All Fancy's mystery. 
 At length she took the letter, and 
 
 Untied the silken cord, 
 While carefully and slowly she 
 
 Did read each written word ;
 
 ELVINOR. 37 
 
 For in those times good reading was 
 
 Full difficult and sore, 
 Irregular the character 
 
 That early writing bore. 
 Her gentle face its colour lost, 
 
 Her cheek 'came pale and wan, 
 This news was in the letter, and 
 
 'Twas thus the writing ran : 
 
 " Sweet Elvinor, a messenger, 
 
 A faithful one and true, 
 To night I send, then meet him, Love, 
 
 Beneath the bending yew. 
 Sore wounded, weak, and chafing, I 
 
 Do toss from side to side, 
 I would, but cannot, meet thee for 
 
 Many an eventide. 
 Of the battle he will tell thee, 
 
 But, Elvinor, whate'er
 
 88 ELVINOE. 
 
 The tidings taste of bitterness, 
 
 Thou, Love, wilt not despair ; 
 But, dearest, I am weak with pain, 
 
 Nor can I, on this night, 
 O'er the surface of this parchment, 
 
 A lover's letter write. 
 Remember, brightest Elvinor, 
 
 Most faithfully I say, 
 If ever thou wast lost to me, 
 
 The brightest warmest ray, 
 That the kindly Hand of Heaven 
 
 Hath shone upon my head, 
 Would cleave my short-liv'd happiness, 
 
 And leave it cold and dead." 
 
 It was thus the letter ended, 
 No signature, no sign, 
 
 Excepting one clear token that 
 Shone in every line :
 
 ELVINOR. 89 
 
 The sense that gives to writing voice 
 
 Which Fancy doth dispense, 
 And makes the air around seem full 
 
 Of silent eloquence ; 
 Silent, because within the brain 
 
 The heart its joy doth hold, 
 And while Imagination air 
 
 To living forms can mould. 
 
 Thus happy, grieving, silent, sad, 
 In turns they trembling rise, 
 
 Whilst slowly earth's attracting globe 
 Floats towards the western skies.
 
 40 el vi yon. 
 
 The silv'ry moon was shining out, 
 
 As 'neath the forest yew 
 An old man stood, whose hair and beard 
 
 Were both of snow-like hue. 
 His face with age was furrow'd o'er, 
 
 And sunken was the chest, 
 "While pain that mark'd his visage too 
 
 Seem'd yet his constant guest. 
 Still bore his brow a noble mien, 
 
 The eye in age was clear, 
 And bold did seem, as though he ne'er 
 
 Had known a paltry fear. 
 An oaken staff was in one hand, 
 
 His wasted form array'd 
 Was in friar-like robes, the which 
 
 Of homespun wool were made. 
 His mind 'mid contemplation dwelt, 
 
 As silently he stood,
 
 ELVINOR. 41 
 
 When rustling through the leaves there came, 
 
 In mantle dark and hood, 
 The slender form of Elvinor, 
 
 With light and gentle tread, 
 That scarcely press'd the tender blade 
 
 Upon its grassy bed. 
 
 On meeting, 'twixt them passed a sign 
 
 Of deepest secrecy, 
 A sign that spoke, but not with voice, 
 
 In surest mystery ; 
 A sign used by a little band 
 
 Who from the Romish Church 
 Did differ in religious thoughts, 
 
 And who themselves did search 
 In God's own Word, reveal'd to man 
 
 By Him in ancient time ; 
 And this, if known, would constitute 
 
 A death-deserving crime.
 
 42 ETA' ISO II. 
 
 And for these meeting each did leave 
 
 At night his hearth and home ; 
 While o'er them loom'd in pow'r and strength, 
 
 The righteous Church of Rome. 
 
 But Elvinor, whose anxious thought 
 
 Was tidings of the war, 
 The silence broke, and sought to know 
 
 The fate of Earlingmore. 
 
 " Egbert," she said ; the old man gaz'd 
 
 With sorrow on her face, 
 A - he saw both hope and fear 
 
 Upon her visage trace 
 Alarm, then the eager question, 
 
 " My father, where is he ? 
 I- he far, or is he near, 
 
 Say, comes he back to me ? "
 
 JUA'IXOH. 43 
 
 No answer came from Egbert's lips, 
 
 No words by him were said, 
 But pointing to some ruins grey, 
 
 The way he thither led ; 
 And lo, a wall of mossy green 
 
 Stood straight across their way, 
 Along whose base the woodland flow'rs 
 
 Did grow in fair display. 
 
 Within this old and ruined wall, 
 
 Was plac'd a huge grey stone ; 
 When, pressing close a secret spring, 
 
 With low and creaking groan 
 The stone roll'd back, before them lay 
 
 A dimly lighted place ; 
 Which with glimmering flicker threw 
 
 A flash upon each face.
 
 •li ELVINOR. 
 
 The space wherein they now did stand 
 
 Had at one time sustain'd 
 The hand of fire, for even yet 
 
 The blacken'd stones remain'd, 
 As they by tire had last been left ; 
 
 While crumbling lugs of wood, 
 Their half destroyed and broken shapes 
 
 Did from the walls protrude. 
 
 With quick'ning steps did Egbert lead, 
 
 While follow'd Elyinor, 
 And open'd on the farther side 
 
 A dark and oaken door. 
 Before, a narrow passage lay, 
 
 And their echoing tread 
 Sounded hollow, as though they walk'd 
 
 Above the vaulted dead.
 
 Yet as the distant end they reach'd, 
 
 Murmuring met their ear 
 Of people who in whispers spoke, 
 
 No voice was loud or clear, 
 Then turning to the right they stood 
 
 Within a narrow cell, 
 With one small window, o'er whose light 
 
 The clust'ring ivy fell. 
 'Twas here the silence Egbert broke, 
 
 And first began to speak 
 In whispers hush'd, subdued and low, 
 
 With voice by age made weak. 
 
 " Thou kuowest I am not the one 
 Of whom the letter spake, 
 
 For he who sent it gave it to 
 An archer bold to take. 
 
 He pass'd across the battle plain, 
 And reach'd the farther side,
 
 ■LG ELVINOR. 
 
 Where the forest's sheltering arms 
 
 Lay open far and wide, 
 But ere his lithesome footstep trod 
 
 'Neath the protecting shade, 
 A quick sharp shower of arrows 
 
 Among the branches play'd ; 
 Two struck him, when he pluck'd them forth 
 
 The quiv'ring flesh he tore, 
 And quickly flow'd the crimson flood ; 
 
 The wounds were deep and sore. 
 
 " I had stood and watch ''d the battle, 
 
 Hoping perchance to show, 
 The peace of Hcav'n to some who were 
 
 By death's dark hand laid low ; 
 Then hast'ning to the wounded man 
 
 I sought to stay the blood, 
 But all my efforts were in vain, 
 
 For its unceasing flood
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 Flow'd on, and stain'd the verdure of 
 
 That Border battle-field ; 
 All strewn with those who never more 
 
 Should mortal weapon wield. 
 I knew the hand of death was near, 
 
 The span of life nigh o'er, 
 And spoke of immortality 
 
 On Heav'n's celestial shore. 
 
 "Thus answered he, — ' On earth I've serv'd, 
 
 And with my latest breath 
 AYill serve mine own young master now, 
 
 In whatsoe'er he saith. 
 To-night I was to meet, beneath 
 
 A forest bending yew, 
 My master's own betrothed bride, 
 
 To tell her straight and true 
 The tidings of this Border war.' 
 
 'Twas then he told to me
 
 i- KLVIXOTl. 
 
 What, Elvinor, stern truth makes hard, 
 For me to tell to thee. 
 
 "The Hand of God is on this earth, 
 
 And oft times lie doth find 
 A mercy in the chastisement, 
 
 To which our eyes are hlind. 
 lie in His mercy, Klvinor, 
 
 Will temper thy sad grief, 
 Will render, in His own good time, 
 
 Thee, comfort and relief; 
 For death did yester-morning set 
 
 Thy father's spirit free, 
 And may God grant it is with Him, 
 
 Through all eternity." 
 
 His tale was o'er, hut while he told 
 The most untimely end,
 
 ELVINOR. 1. 1 
 
 Of one who serv'd in her fair cause, 
 
 Kind sympathy did blend 
 Itself with sorrow, on the face 
 
 Of Elvinor, and spoke 
 In silence, yet effectually, 
 
 Of feelings that awoke 
 Within her breast, where Pity's form 
 
 A resting-place did find, 
 An angel whose bright hand doth link 
 
 Together womankind. 
 
 But deeper and yet deeper grew 
 
 The shades of grief that fell 
 Around her, as the substance of 
 
 The tale did Egbert tell ; 
 Then Sorrow in her blackest garb 
 
 The mind of Elvinor 
 Enwrapt, yet still her sad young eyes 
 
 Of Nature's traces bore
 
 50 EL VIXOR. 
 
 No sign, for oft when grief sincere 
 Within our hearts doth move, 
 
 It speaks as silently as doth 
 The strongest pow'r of love. 
 
 At length she suddenly arose, 
 
 Bade the old man adieu, 
 And with her touch the pond'rous rock 
 
 Back on its hinges flew. 
 "Within her chamber once again, 
 
 Sank down in still despair, 
 Unconsciously, the livelong night, 
 
 She sadly rested there. 
 At morning dawn, all pale but calm, 
 
 She each direction gave, 
 The banner from the flagstaff fell, 
 
 No more with wind to wave. 
 That very day the castle fair 
 
 Was hung with deepest gloom,
 
 EL VINOR. 51 
 
 As silently it mourned o'er 
 Its master's earthly doom, — 
 
 Mourning dark in every room 
 Its silent influence spread, 
 
 While in her chamber Elvinor 
 Sat grieving for the dead. 
 
 .!ftsVD»2-— *
 
 ELVfXO/i. 
 
 Two months had sped their course away. 
 
 The Spring had pass'd her prime, 
 And Earth rejoie'd in the embrace 
 
 Of glorious Summer time. 
 Now Earlingford once more was rife 
 
 With stalwart men and true, — 
 The brother of Lord Earlingmore, 
 
 And all his retinue, 
 Resided at the castle now 
 
 To watch with guardian care 
 O'er his niece's name and fortunes, 
 
 And lands both wide and fair. 
 
 Upon that very battlefield, 
 
 Where was Lord Edward slain, 
 
 He fought, and where his brother fell 
 Lord Henry did remain.
 
 ELVINOR. 53 
 
 With sword and spear and mounted men 
 
 They Earlingmore did guard, 
 While Henry knelt down by his side 
 
 Upon the blood stain'd sward ; 
 But sore and mortal prov'd the wound, 
 
 All useless human aid, 
 And waving back the soldiers, he 
 
 Thus to his brother said : 
 
 " The hand of death is on me now, 
 
 His fingers stiff and cold, 
 Yet now around my beating heart 
 
 Do tightly grasp their hold. 
 Wilt thou, when the war is over, 
 
 To Earlingford repair, 
 And o'er my daughter's fortunes watch 
 
 With kindly soldier's care ? 
 Thy son, — who won his knightly spurs 
 
 By old Sir Guthrie's side,
 
 54 EL VINOR. 
 
 When foremost they of England's men 
 
 Through Scottish ranks did ride — 
 Methinks, did think on Elvinor, 
 
 And as his bride did woo ; 
 So said report: if time should prove 
 
 Their love is firm and true, 
 Then my consent I freely give, — 
 
 Thy son and Elvinor 
 Are last but we who bear the name 
 
 < )i ancient Earlingniore. 
 Wilt, Henry, thou accept the trust ? — 
 
 Eor then I die content." 
 lh spoke, his voice more feeble grew, 
 
 Life's strength was nearly spent. 
 
 His hand Lord Henry firmly grasp'd. 
 
 "Here, Edward, by thy side 
 I swear, while life lasts, by thy trust 
 
 As sacred to abide.
 
 EL VI NOR. 55 
 
 If I fail aught to Elvinor, 
 
 Require it then of me, 
 When the last Judgment peal shall call 
 
 Us to eternity." 
 
 " God help thee now," said Earlingmore, 
 
 " Full faithfully and sure 
 As sacred vow to keep thine oath, 
 
 While doth thy life endure." 
 
 As thus he spake, a silence fell 
 
 That hush'd each living breath. 
 All watched the soldier as he lay 
 
 Within the arms of death ; 
 When o'er that field the Western sky 
 
 Did blush in crimson red, — 
 One more of ancient Earlingmore 
 
 Did number with the dead.
 
 56 ELVIXOi; 
 
 Now Earlingford did once again, 
 
 With manly voice- clear, 
 Ring nut unto the music clank 
 
 Of buckler, sword, and spear — 
 Carnal weapons, the which, when they 
 
 By man are used aright, 
 
 Uphold ;i pi oplr's honour, and 
 
 Maintain a people's right. 
 But Europe was preparing for 
 
 A stronger, mightier war 
 Than Earth herself had dreamed of, 
 
 Or England known before ; — 
 A war from out whose mouth there came 
 
 A boon from Heaven's Hand — 
 That worship free allowed to man 
 
 Through most of Europe's land ; — 
 A war it was in which the slain 
 
 By millions counted were,
 
 ELVlXni; 
 
 Around whose banners fell the brave, 
 
 And by their side the fair ; — 
 A war in which each nation stain 'd 
 
 Itself in its own blood, 
 About whose stakes and scaffolds flow'd 
 
 The daily crimson flood : — 
 
 •J 
 
 A war fought not in battlefield. 
 
 But round each hearth and home; — 
 
 A war that to its basis shook 
 The lofty jiow'r of Rome. 
 
 Within her chamber Elvinor 
 
 Sat silent and alone, 
 As brightly, o'er the land without, 
 
 The moon her pale light shone, 
 Before whose face there quiv'ring flew 
 
 The sable shades of night, 
 "While Earth in silence slept beneath 
 
 The silver of her light.
 
 58 ELVINOR. 
 
 'Tis then that fair Romance's form 
 
 Walks by some winding stream 
 That threads the *cene as Reason doth 
 
 Sometimes a wayward dream ; 
 'Tis then Romance, with fairy forms, 
 
 Will people ruins grey, 
 And eloak them round with mystery 
 
 That fades with light of day; 
 "lis then Romance will gild around 
 
 With lair and roseate hue 
 The lover's tale, as gently he 
 
 Doth bride or mistress woo ; — 
 Bright colours that, 'fore Reason's face, 
 
 Do flee from earth away, 
 As doth a mountain mist before 
 
 The monarch of the day. 
 Aye, fair Romance, like most things fair, 
 
 What mischief hast thou done,
 
 EL VI NO 11. 59 
 
 Since thou with woman first commenc'd 
 On earth thy course to run ! 
 
 And aye, what towers of mischief, 
 Thou yet on earth wilt move ; 
 
 While man a tongue to flatter hath 
 And woman heart to love. 
 
 As Elvinor did idly gaze 
 
 The moonlit landscape o'er, 
 A clanking sword was heard without, 
 
 And softly ope'd the door. 
 Enter'd a young and manly form, 
 
 With dark and glancing eye ; 
 But face, that recent suff'ring did 
 
 The glow of health deny. 
 As Elvinor his footstep heard 
 
 A tinge her cheek did gain 
 Of Nature's rouge, while steadily 
 
 She gaz'd upon the plain ;
 
 00 EL VIXOR. 
 
 As from his lady-love the knight 
 
 Did unresisted steal, 
 A bond which then, as now, was used 
 
 A plighted troth to seal. 
 In silence did they both remain, 
 
 Until iit length the knight 
 Spoke, while the face of Elvinor 
 
 Again grew calmly white. 
 Hi- voice was gentle, and did sound 
 
 As though he drew a veil 
 Over its proud battle hoarscne— . 
 
 His face was calm and pale. 
 
 "Sweet Elvinor, from the battle 
 I scarce have come to thee, 
 
 "VMien my Sire, for secret message, 
 Again hath need of me. 
 
 So I must once more to saddle, 
 Ere doth the morning break ;
 
 HLV1XOH. 61 
 
 With me the secret documents, 
 
 In safety must I take ; 
 But came, ere mounting my good steed, 
 
 My lady fair to see; 
 For sev'n long days, sweet Elvinor, 
 
 To say adieu to thee. 
 But why is thy sweet face so sad ? 
 
 I have not seen it glow 
 With happy blush or bright'ning smile 
 
 Since cruel war laid low 
 Thy Sire. Remember, Elvinor, 
 
 Upon that battle field, 
 None his broadsword or battle-axe 
 
 More manfully did wield. 
 His death was true and noble, while, 
 
 His spirit to console, 
 In yonder convent often they 
 
 Held masses for his soul."
 
 62 EL VI NCR. 
 
 Then musing, he ceas'd speaking, while 
 
 The lips of Elvinor 
 Quiver'd, and her gentle breath 
 
 Came quicker than before ; 
 For doubting, in her inmost soul, 
 
 That mass 'gainst sin could weigh, 
 She secret kept the words that strove 
 
 To find the light of day. 
 'Twaa not to save her own young life 
 
 She held in secrecy 
 The faith, which branded was, of yore, 
 
 As fatal heresy ; 
 Rut lest she should suspicion rouse, 
 
 And Earlingmore shoul I search, 
 To bring to what man justice call'd, 
 
 The members of her Church ; 
 Who met, amid the shade* of night, 
 
 When all around was still, 
 To study there the Word of God, 
 
 And His revealed will.
 
 ELVfXOR. 63 
 
 Then as she spoke, fair Elvinor, 
 
 Her voice to steady strove, 
 While shone the depth of her sad eyes, 
 
 With brightest purest love. 
 And Leonard stood, and listcn'd, while 
 
 The softly moaning breeze 
 Did play its gentle harmony 
 
 To the whispering trees. 
 
 "While seated by the window here, 
 
 Before I heard thy tread. 
 Dark thoughts were passing through ray mind 
 
 As silence round was spread. 
 A vision fell before ray face, 
 
 The shadow deep of night, 
 With darkly veil enwrapt mine eyes, 
 
 And took from them their sight ; 
 I look'd, and lo, an opening 
 
 Was in the darkness made ;
 
 hi EL VI NOR. 
 
 The scene of yonder mountain side, 
 
 Before mine eyes was laid ; 
 And, Leonard, thou wast standing there, 
 
 Thy face was hard and stern, 
 While deep with fiery anger 
 
 Thine eye- did seem to burn. 
 Methought I heard thee call my name 
 
 ka though I was no more, 
 The echo threw thee back thy words, 
 
 Where art thou, ElvinorP 
 No answer came, and lo thy face 
 
 Became of ghostly white, 
 As quickly fell a mountain mist, 
 
 And hid thee from my sight ; 
 And then, the darkness seem'd to close 
 
 Upon mine eyes again, 
 And slowly vanishing I saw 
 
 Once more yon moonlit plain."
 
 KI.VIXQR. 65 
 
 She ccas'd, and the silence breaking, 
 Clank'd hoof of mailed steed, 
 
 Within the courtyard down below, 
 E'en from its stabling freed. 
 
 Then answering, Sir Leonard said : 
 
 "A week its course shall wane, 
 My message done, my missive o'er, 
 
 I shall return again ; 
 And, once more here by thy dear side, 
 
 Long then shall be my stay, 
 Fair love shall teach me how to drive 
 
 These gloomy dreams away. 
 For sev'n long days, each fleeting hour 
 
 Must fast its brother chase, 
 And bring the time when I again 
 
 Shall see my Lady's face. 
 Till then adieu, sweet Elvinor, 
 
 May angels from above,
 
 Bfi ELVINOR. 
 
 Guard thy fair form, if 'gainst it aught 
 Of evil there doth move." 
 
 Ee went, ami in the courtyard soon, 
 Tin- warlike steed bestrode ; 
 
 And, waving his Bteel bonnei high, 
 Spurr'd down the moonlit road. 
 
 'Twas thus thr lovers' parting came, 
 
 Amid the hmir of night ; 
 In Bad] 11 watch'd Elvinor, 
 
 From that lone window height ; 
 Watch'd there, until the darkness seem'd 
 
 To shadow o'er the room, 
 Enwrapping, too, her fair young love 
 
 Iu its forboding gloom. 
 For to our minds her message, Fate, 
 
 v 'inetimes foretelling sings ;
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 Mid waking dreams the shadow writes, 
 Of what the morrow brings. 
 
 'Twas thus in silence Elvinor, 
 Did by the window stay, 
 
 Until the silv'ring east rn sky 
 Foretold the birth of day.
 
 6fl ELY IX OR. 
 
 Among the goodly retinue 
 
 That follow 'd Earlingmore, 
 From that same field where Edward fell, 
 
 A victim of the war. 
 Was one, a Father Abnyard nam'd, 
 
 A monk of subtle skill ; 
 Whose hand ne'er fail'd to execute 
 
 The dictates of his will. 
 Since he to Earlingford had come, 
 
 Like glancing eagle's eye, 
 Did watch the ways of Elvinor, 
 
 And all her actions spy ; 
 And yet, withal, his face did keep 
 
 So smooth, so straight and plain, 
 That none might on its surface read 
 
 The working of his brain. 
 His lips were thin, and seem'd as though 
 
 By will were tight compress'd ;
 
 ELVINOR. G!) 
 
 Full much he thought, hut little spake, 
 
 And gave his tongue much rest. 
 His voice he train' d to kindly tones ; 
 
 In manners e'en might be 
 Too silent, but he never fail'd 
 
 In aught of courtesy. 
 Such was the man whose eyes had watch'd 
 
 The ways of Elvinor, 
 Since he to Earlingford had come 
 
 "With Henry Earlingmore. 
 
 Of time four days their course had sped 
 
 Since Leonard rode away ; 
 When Father Abnyard writing sat, 
 
 As idly round him lay 
 Parchments, upon which Time had laid 
 
 His ever ageing hand ; 
 One roll of which, full carefully 
 
 Was tied with silken band.
 
 TO Ef.VISoll. 
 
 A monk, who had a message bornej 
 
 Was standing idly by, 
 While Abnyard did the letter read, 
 
 And wrote him his reply ; 
 The which when done, full cautiously, 
 
 The Father once again, 
 His eye the missive scann'd along. 
 
 These news did it contain : 
 
 "E'er zealous in the Church's cause, 
 At midnight'- -"limn hour, 
 
 A- summon'd, I will meet with thee 
 Beneath the belfry tow'r." 
 
 To the monk he gave the letter, 
 Who bore it straight away, 
 
 "While Abnyard meditating did 
 Await the close of day.
 
 EL VI NOR. 71 
 
 Upon the mountain side, that girt 
 
 The lands of Earlingmore, 
 An abbey stood, but since destroy'd 
 
 By grimy hand of war. 
 E'en then 'twas old, but built full strong, 
 
 Of well cemented stone, — 
 A strength, which in our modern days, 
 
 Is seemingly unknown. 
 Behind it rear'd the mountain crest, 
 
 Beside a torrent bed 
 There lay, down which in furious rush 
 
 The winter waters sped. 
 In front, the mountain side again 
 
 Its steep descent began, 
 While many hundred feet below 
 
 The winding roadway ran. 
 Of such the elevation was, 
 
 Upon whose summit stood
 
 7 2 ELVlXUlt. 
 
 The in- mastery that was oall'd. 
 The Abbey uf St. Jude. 
 
 The night wa^ dark, the Abbot Bat 
 
 Within a secret cell, 
 Whose dampen'd walls sent glistening back 
 
 The light which on them felL 
 Unhealthy was the atmosphere 
 
 Tliat fill'd thr space around ; 
 For 'neath the abbey lay the cell, 
 
 And deep within the ground ; 
 From which some steps, to th' monks unknown, 
 
 Did lend their winding way 
 Into a vault, which dark and drear 
 
 N( Vr Baw the light of day. 
 Obscure, and in a corner plac'd, 
 
 "Was here a door of stone, 
 So little used, that opening 
 
 It dismally did groan ;
 
 ELVINOll. 73 
 
 And as along the passage dark 
 
 Its hollow sounding sped, 
 The echo, that return'd it, seem'd 
 
 An answer from the dead. 
 As now the vault the passage left 
 
 Its limits wider grew, 
 While sometimes, from a grating high, 
 
 A ray of light shone through. 
 It still pursu'd its winding way 
 
 Until at Length it crept 
 Into the chapel, where 'twas by 
 
 A pannel secret kept. 
 
 The cell wherein the Abbot sat, 
 
 Lay 'neath the belfry tow'r ; 
 From whence the iron tongue peal'd forth 
 
 The number of the hour. 
 Against the wall a table stood 
 
 Of oak, whereon was spread
 
 U ELVIXOR. 
 
 Wine flagons, and two goblets large, 
 "With meat, and home-made bread. 
 
 Twas midnight, when, lo, through the wall 
 
 Which bound the narrow cell ; 
 Tl c distant, but yel measur'd, sound 
 
 < »f human footsu pa fell, 
 They nearer came, wh< n, suddenly, 
 
 A stone, half round, half square, 
 Mnv'd lark, and Father Abnyard stood 
 
 Within the portal there. 
 In silence he stepp'd forth and then 
 
 The stone drew back once more; 
 With scarcely sounding steps he pass'd 
 
 Across the stone-pav'd floor. 
 A\"i tli native cunning, then did he 
 
 The portly Abbot greet, 
 1 1 is voice he sway'd to gentleness, 
 
 And made it low and sweet.
 
 ELVINOR. 75 
 
 Each seated in an oaken chair, 
 Abnyard to speak began, 
 
 While often would his subtle eye 
 His neighbour's visage scan. 
 
 " Father, the hour at length hath come 
 
 When breaks the veil of night, 
 Which hitherto, hath hid the goal, 
 
 Long wish'd for, from our sight. 
 When last we met, good Father, thou 
 
 Rememb'rest I did say 
 Of Elvinor, much secrecy 
 
 Did round her actions lay ; 
 Thou knowest I e'er zealous was 
 
 For our good Church's cause, 
 And ever hated those who did 
 
 Defy her sacred laws. 
 Then closely watching Elvinor, 
 
 I found, at length that she
 
 70 ELVINOR. 
 
 Did set at naught the lxomish Church, 
 
 And dealt with heresy. 
 Then listen, for fair Fortune now 
 
 Lends ear to our design ; 
 While doth the bounteous Hand of Ileav'n 
 
 Upon our actions shine." 
 
 The Abbot turned in hi- chair, 
 
 That he might better hear ; 
 And unto Father Abnyard's side 
 
 Himself he drew more near. 
 His elbow on the table plac'd, 
 
 His chin upon his hand ; 
 While of his long and heavy robes 
 
 He loos'd the girtle band, 
 As thus he spake : 
 
 " Good Abnyard, thou 
 Must e'en thy tale explain ;
 
 KLV1X0R. 77 
 
 Heresy is a cursed sin, 
 
 But how our cause doth gain 
 Its end from that, I cannot see, 
 
 For if this Elvinor 
 Can be rcmov'd, there still exists 
 
 An heir to Earlingmore." 
 
 Abnyard, in raising up his head, 
 
 Did fix his cold clear eye, 
 Upon the Abbot's face, and said, 
 
 " To clear this mystery 
 I speak ; since mutually we act, 
 
 In part must neither fail ; 
 Then listen, while I now rehearse, 
 
 From end to end my tale. 
 
 "It was full thirteen years ago 
 Amid November's gloom
 
 EL VINOR. 
 
 That Henry's Lady sicken'd lay, 
 
 And met her earthly doom. 
 A fearful death it was she died, 
 
 Nor first its cause knew wc ; 
 But, ere the morning broke, her words 
 
 Revealed heresy. 
 It thus was prov'd : 
 
 "When Henry knew 
 
 Earth's efforts were in vain, 
 And that her tread in castle hall 
 
 Should ne'er be heard again, 
 lie bade me straightway then prepare 
 
 The sacramental food; 
 While he a message sent unto 
 
 The Abbot of St. Jude. 
 
 " Thou, Father, wast not Abbot then," 
 Explaining, Abnyard said,
 
 ELVIXOli. 
 
 " But one who govern'd here before, 
 And who lung since is dead. — 
 
 "And I, when all prepared was, 
 Within the chamber stav'd; 
 
 Everything in order, for 
 
 The Abbot straightway laid. 
 
 " He came, and all had left us there, 
 
 We stood by her alone, 
 But naught in us would she confide, 
 
 An 1 no misdeeds would own. 
 She would not touch the bread or wine, 
 
 But held her head away, 
 And in her stubborness did she 
 
 Refuse to hear us pray. 
 The Abbot gazing on her, spoke, 
 
 And said in accents stern,
 
 80 FJ.VIXOIL 
 
 1 Daughter, wilt thou in death's dark hour 
 
 From Rome's protection turn ? 
 What mean thy words, By mortal man 
 
 Sin cannot be forgiv'n ? 
 And that guilt can he never cleans'd, 
 
 But by tlif Hand of Heav'n? 
 Hast thou then dar'd to search in things 
 
 Thou can's! not understand ; 
 Thy si ml in this thy dying hour 
 
 With heresy to hrand ? 
 
 " ' Listen, thou yet can'st save thy soul 
 
 If thou wilt tell to me, 
 "Who hath an other doctrine dar'd 
 
 Than Rome's to broach to thee. 
 In Heaven's name, I thee conjure 
 
 Ti i say, ere thou dost die, 
 "Who is he thus hath dar'd to spread 
 
 This cursed heresy?'
 
 ELVINOR. 81 
 
 " She heeded not, for fever came, 
 
 With double strengthen'd sway, 
 As though with one last final blow 
 
 Twould sweep her life away ; 
 While madly raving, on our cars 
 
 Her dying words thus fell, 
 As 'fore her soul there secm'd to yawn 
 
 A near and black'ning Hell. 
 
 " ' Oh, God,' she cried in agony, 
 ' Spare me a little time ; 
 
 Call not my soul, so unprepar'd, 
 To Heaven's height to climb !' 
 
 " All suddenly she took my hand 
 With fast and fervent hold ;
 
 82 ELVIXoIi. 
 
 While felt her hands, unto my touch, 
 All damp and deathlike eold. 
 
 She spoke with voice of trembling fear, 
 I never shall forget ; 
 
 While o'er my brows came, dampening, 
 The coldly dews of sweat. 
 
 " ' He come- to me with burning I 
 lie point- the road to hell ! ' 
 
 And with a fearful pierc i _. scream, 
 A corpse she backward fell." 
 
 As Abnyard for a moment ceas'd, 
 
 The voice, on -udden stay'd, 
 Like rumbling echoes, all among 
 
 The hollow archway- play'd. 
 The Abbot nervously did move, 
 
 While in his wine-flush'd face
 
 ELVIS'nll. 83 
 
 Many a superstitious fear 
 
 Abnyard's quick eye could trace; 
 Contempt stole then his visage o'er, 
 
 His cheek, 'most always pale, 
 Now slightly flush'd with speaking, be 
 
 Once more pursued his tale : 
 
 "A hurried step we heard without, 
 
 And open'd quick the door, 
 The threshold o'er, with ghastly face, 
 
 Stepp'd Henry Earlingmoi 
 While, as he came, did both <»f us 
 
 Our faces turn away, 
 As at his wife's dead form he gaz'd 
 
 In silence and dismay. 
 Each sound within that room was hush'd ; 
 
 The Abbot turn'd and said, 
 His voice half chanting, while his hand 
 
 Was pointing towards the dead :
 
 84 ELl'ISni;. 
 
 " ' Yon form, that on thy bridal day 
 
 Thy wedded wife became, 
 And with the wedding-ring receiv'd 
 
 Thy brave and honour 'd name, 
 Hath lately damnably been taught 
 
 For other truths to search 
 Than those of Rome, and slighting thus 
 
 The sacred Romish Church, 
 As punishment, her dying hour 
 
 Has come before its time, 
 And Heaven her youth hath smitten 
 
 For this her sinful crime. 
 Then, Henry, I command thee now, 
 
 In blessed Clary's name, 
 If purgatory's blasting heat 
 
 Thou for thy bride would'st tame, 
 Swear now thou art an enemy 
 
 To ev'ry Church and State
 
 ELVINOR. 85 
 
 That savours not of Rome's decree ; 
 
 And that with firmest hate 
 Unto Rome thou wilt deliver, 
 
 Whoever it may be, 
 "Who thou hast slightest cause to know 
 
 Doth aught in heresy. 
 And there Lord Henry took the oath, 
 
 Which I wns witness to; 
 And in that hour my cloister oath 
 
 Did I again renew.' 
 
 "As time pass'd on this heresy 
 
 Did seem awhile to wane ; 
 We scour'd the country round about, 
 
 But all our zeal was vain. 
 News of many a fiery death 
 
 Had reach'd the peasantry, 
 And with reverence they obey'd 
 
 Rome's every decree.
 
 "As years pass'd on the Border raids 
 
 More numerous became, 
 And many soldiers perished 
 
 Supporting England's name. 
 One day the tidings quick arose 
 
 Of this late Border war, 
 News came, the Scots were gathering 
 
 Much stronger than before ; 
 Each nobleman led forth his host 
 
 In all the country round, 
 And on that day were many laid 
 
 Dead on the battleground. 
 It was upon that very field 
 
 Lord Henry's brother lay — 
 'Twas Edward, Lord of Earlingford, 
 
 Whose life's blood ebb'd away ; 
 As Henry, by his brother's side 
 
 Knelt, he did promise there
 
 ELVINOR. 87 
 
 To show his daughter, Elvinor, 
 
 A soldier's guardian care. 
 At peace with Church, at peace with God, 
 
 His brother by his side, 
 Lord Edward Earlingmore fell back, 
 
 And for his country died. 
 
 " To Earlingford then Henry came, 
 
 "With him his only son, 
 Sir Leonard, who the graces fair 
 
 Of Elvinor had won ; 
 For oft I saw her sad young face 
 
 Flush, as to her he said 
 Some speech of polish'd flattery 
 
 In Court of Cupid bred ; 
 And this Lord Henry saw with joy, 
 
 He deeming that once more 
 Their wedded life would raise again 
 
 The line of Earlingmore ;
 
 88 ELVINOR. 
 
 For of that house, of royal descent, 
 
 Did then there but remain 
 These two, as many an Earlingmore 
 
 In recent wars was slain. 
 Thus in their love did he rejoice, 
 
 But I was watching too, 
 For did they die, then thi 36 wide lands 
 
 Descended then, I knew. 
 Unto this Abbey of St. Jude, 
 
 Of whose good brethren I 
 Am one, and all my fortunes owe 
 
 Unto this monastery. 
 
 "So while within mine inmost thoughts 
 These things I ponder'd o'er, 
 
 I with my keenest glance did watch 
 The ways of Elvinor : 
 
 In watching, all my visage kept 
 Of kind yet thoughtful hue,
 
 So that my face told not my mind, 
 
 As speaking faces do. 
 Full narrowly this Elvinor 
 
 I watch'd, mcthought her soul 
 Leapt up sometimes to dizzy heights 
 
 Which earth could not control. 
 At length I found at night-time she 
 
 "Would often bend her way 
 Unto some place of secrecy 
 
 That in the ruins lay. 
 I follow'd once, but did not dare 
 
 To come her form too near, 
 But fifty yards behind her, that 
 
 My steps she should not hear. 
 Along a close and winding path 
 
 Her way she quickly sped, 
 But there I could not follow her — 
 
 The branches overhead 
 "Were deep entwin'd, and grew full low, 
 
 So that meth ought if she
 
 90 ELVIXOU. 
 
 Should at her destination stay 
 
 For me too suddenly, 
 I thus, without fair warning, might 
 
 Myself have then betray'd, 
 So where the pathway did begin 
 
 I there in silence stav'd. 
 
 "An hour went by, yet patiently 
 
 Did by the path remain, 
 When, lo, I from the distance heard 
 
 The rustling noise again. 
 
 sound of whispering voices 
 
 Too, through the branches came, 
 And once, 'twas strange, and yet methought 
 
 I heard them speak my name. 
 Fair Fortune smil'd on me that night, 
 
 And shone her beaming ray 
 On all my plans, for Elvinor 
 
 Did by the thicket stay
 
 ELVINOR. 91 
 
 With her companion, an old man, 
 
 Who — priceless luck for me — 
 Was slightly deaf, so Elvinor 
 
 Spoke in a higher key 
 Than prudent was ; while, as they stay'd, 
 
 Her glancing eye did scan 
 The scene around, and, satisfied, 
 
 To speak again began. 
 
 '"Egbert, come now with me no more, 
 
 The trees are wider here 
 Apart, some monk on yonder road 
 
 Might pass, perchance, too near. 
 So now adieu, — we meet again, 
 
 Once more I come to thee, 
 To-morrow or next night and bring 
 
 The Book, then thou must flee, 
 For if around us danger lies, 
 
 No longer must thou stay,
 
 92 • ELVINOR. 
 
 Thy Book return'd, then, Egbert, thou 
 For safety must a way.' 
 
 " She ceas'd. Though I of rage was full, 
 
 Though hatred fill'd my heart, 
 Yet of necessity did I 
 
 In silence let them part. 
 And when 'twas safe, with swiftest speed, 
 
 Myself I sped away, 
 And to the castle secretly 
 
 Return'd ere break of day. 
 The rest thou knowest ; now my tale 
 
 From end to end is told, — 
 Our plan and execution we 
 
 "Will straightway now unfold." 
 
 The Abbot, whose fat face had shown 
 Attention vast and deep,
 
 ELVINOR. 93 
 
 Now spoke : 
 
 "Abnyard, thy cunning should 
 A goodly harvest reap 
 But if we burn, or starve, or flay, 
 
 This girl called Elvinor ; 
 Still Earlingford will find an heir 
 
 In Leonard Earlingmore. 
 
 " Peace Father, listen, in my brain 
 
 The plan is now mature, 
 If thou wilt act as I decree, 
 
 Then our success is sure. 
 Since with Lord Henry Earlingmore, 
 
 As father, I have dwelt, 
 Each item of his character, 
 
 I line by line have spelt ; 
 A man he is, whose plighted word, 
 
 lias honour'd e'er his name,
 
 94 ELVINOR. 
 
 And he I know -will keep his oath, 
 
 And ne'er his word defame. 
 Then I, with gentleness, with tears, 
 
 If they should needful be, 
 Will tell him, Elvinor to death 
 
 Was rack'd for heresy. 
 Now Elvinor is young and fair, 
 
 And hath a noble mind ; 
 Perverted since by heresy 
 
 It hath been undermin'd. 
 Sir Leonard madly loves her now, 
 
 His blood is warm and young, 
 And in this case, methinks he'll place 
 
 No bridle on his tongue. 
 Thus when Lord Henry tells the news, 
 
 As tell he must, and may, 
 How Elvinor was rack'd to death. 
 
 His son in deep dismay 
 Will curse the Church, and to pity 
 
 A heretic may dare.
 
 "When sinning thus, no lunger he 
 
 His father's roof may share. 
 The vow that Earlingmore has sworn, 
 
 Spares neither kith nor kin. 
 To th' utmost he his oath must keep, 
 
 If Heaven lie would win. 
 Upon our Abbe}', Heaven smiles, 
 
 As't did in days of yore, 
 And to St. Judc will soon descend 
 
 The lands of Earlingmore." 
 
 'O* 
 
 As Abnyard ceas'd, the Abbot gaz'd, 
 
 With admiration deep, 
 On him, with exultation did 
 
 His base heart in him leap. 
 But suddenly his visage chang'd 
 
 To disappointment's hue ; 
 At length he said, 
 
 " No rack we have, 
 
 "Wherewith this deed to do ;
 
 96 ELVIKOR. 
 
 But thumbscrews, knives, and heating rings,- 
 
 Alas, no rack have we." 
 He spoke, and his small eyes shone with 
 
 Outwitted cruelty. 
 
 " Fool ! " was the word on Abnyard's lips, 
 
 " Good Father," he did say, 
 " No rack we need, her death must be 
 
 In a more secret way . 
 For did she on the rack recant, 
 
 The torturers would wait, 
 And our mistake we then should find, 
 
 When 'twas, alas, too late. 
 And if she but recanted, then 
 
 Lord Henry Earlingmore 
 Might buy a pardon from the Pope, 
 
 And take her back once more. 
 No violence this time we use, 
 
 "Within the strongest cell,
 
 ELVINOR. 97 
 
 Place her, till death doth open leave 
 The road from earth to Hell ; 
 
 Without food let her linger there, 
 In silence and alone, 
 
 And she can recantation say 
 Unto the walls of stone." 
 
 " 'Tis well, Abnyard," the Abbot said, 
 '* But one thing doth remain, 
 
 How, secretly, of Elvinor 
 Shall we possession gain ? " 
 
 " In this wise, Of the brethren send 
 Three, trusty, safe, and true, 
 
 They must obey in ev'ry thing 
 That I may bid them do ; 
 
 Midnight is o'er, me thinks when it 
 Once more doth come its round,
 
 us EL VIXOR. 
 
 Elvinor in the forest way 
 Will once again be found, 
 
 And in thy pow'r, her death is sure, 
 While thou can'st leave to me 
 
 Both sire and son. And now is clear 
 To thee the mystery?" 
 
 " Abnyard, it is. Good night to thee, 
 
 Long life unto the brain 
 
 That long hath work'd, and arduously, 
 For our good Abbey's gain." 
 
 The Abbot went, and pass'd along 
 
 The secret passage way ; 
 While Abnyard push'd again the rock 
 
 That in the damp wall lay ; 
 And standing by the sliding stone 
 
 Soliloquising spoke,
 
 ELVINOR. 99 
 
 While gaz'd his eyes where last they saw 
 The Abbot's well-lin'd cloak : 
 
 " Proud shallow fool, dost thou then think 
 
 I thus have work'd ray brain, 
 That thy dull sense, and fatten'd paunch, 
 
 ►Should reap the hard-won gain ? 
 I may be Abbot after thee, 
 
 Nor feel inclin'd to wait 
 Slow Nature's course, but think to aid 
 
 Towards death thy tardy gait. 
 Should'st thou sicken, I will attend 
 
 Beside thy weary bed, 
 And then, methinks, thou wilt ere long 
 
 Be number'd with the dead." 
 
 He ceas'd, deep musing then again 
 He spoke aloud his thought,
 
 100 ELVINOR. 
 
 Expression free, no more controll'd, 
 Did pass his face athwart. 
 
 " Will they suspect me P No. Thy death 
 
 As was thy life shall be, 
 Base hypocrite, thou shalt in death 
 
 Maintain hypocrisy. 
 Art, doth in clumsy fingers fail, 
 
 But she at my command 
 Shall still thy heart, as gently as 
 
 Doth death from nature's hand. 
 
 " Will they suspect me, when my face, 
 Grows sadden'd and grows pale ? 
 
 Will they suspect the visage, that 
 Is wrapt in sorrow's veil ? 
 
 Suspicion, this shall meet thy gaze, 
 The murderer shall weep,
 
 ELVIXOR. 101 
 
 "While on the bed shall lie the dead, 
 As 'twere in gentle sleep." 
 
 He spoke, then, tightening his robes, 
 
 Departed, once again 
 He strode the passage, from whence he 
 
 The mountain side did gain. 
 To Earlingford, with stealthy steps, 
 
 Full quickly then he sped, 
 Where soon his plotting brain in sleep, 
 
 He pillow'd on his bed.
 
 102 ELVIXOR. 
 
 Again 'twas night, no kindly moon 
 
 Made night like lesser day, 
 Still 'twas not dark, for through the clouds 
 
 Some light to earth found way ; 
 The? mountains ioom'd to twice their size, 
 
 And hid each shaggy crest, 
 Or seem'd to, in that darkly light, 
 
 In cloudland's gloomy breast. 
 The roadway was deserted, while 
 
 Around the forest spread 
 A silence deep, as though from it 
 
 Each living thing had sped. 
 
 A muffled form unerring stole 
 Along the narrow way, 
 
 That led to where the ruins old 
 Did picturesquely lay.
 
 ELVIXOR. 103 
 
 It stay'd and waited silently, 
 
 When from an old oak tree 
 Egbert stepp'd, and whispering said, 
 
 " Hast thou the Book for me ? " 
 The hood the figure wore fell off, 
 
 And Elviuor's sad face 
 Reveal'd, while she in Egbert's hands 
 
 A much worn Book did place. 
 
 "Take it, Egbert, and may God grant, 
 
 In His Almighty way, 
 The time may come when men may read 
 
 In the broad light of day, 
 That Book, which I have had to read 
 
 In secret and by stealth ; 
 In secrecy, to seek within 
 
 Its mines of hidden wealth."
 
 104 ELVINOU. 
 
 She mus'd awhile, as loth to go, 
 
 Yet fearing to remain ; 
 Then gazing in the old man's face, 
 
 Her voice broke out again. 
 
 " Then from mine oath I now am free, 
 
 For yonder ruins grey 
 Are empty now, our Church no more 
 
 Meet there by night or day. 
 They fled, because they fancied I, 
 
 Though willing, could not bear 
 The torture Rome inflicts on those, 
 
 Who heresy may share. 
 They could not trust me," — and her voice 
 
 Half quiver'd as she spoke, 
 A moment ceasing, through the night 
 
 Again her clear voice broke: —
 
 ELVINOR. 105 
 
 " They said, till Abnyard came 'twas safe, 
 
 But now is safe no more ; 
 And thus for me they separate, 
 
 Thus is our worship o'er." 
 Her voice so low, so deeply sad, 
 
 Was silent once again, 
 At length, in startled tones, she said, 
 
 " Egbert, no more remain 
 With me, I strangely danger feel. 
 
 Farewell, farewell to thee ! 
 May God requite thee, for the light 
 
 Which thou hast shown to me, 
 And in His mercy may His Hand 
 
 Keep ever thee and thine, 
 In joy, and sorrow, may Heav'n's light 
 
 Around thy spirit shine ; 
 And when thy life, of sadness full, 
 
 Its earthly course hath run, 
 May God give thee a crown whose light 
 
 Would pale a noon-day sun."
 
 100 EL VI NOR. 
 
 In Egbert's hand she plac'd her own, 
 
 Who answ'ring her did say, 
 " God bless and keep thee too, my child, 
 
 Through earth's intricate way. 
 Thy life is young, but, Elvinor, 
 
 Remember, sometimes Heav'n 
 Demands the sweetest gift, which it 
 
 Perchance not long hath giv'n. 
 Thy sire is dead, thy mother thou 
 
 On earth hast never known ; 
 God grant the Hand that chastises, 
 
 Hath mark'd thee for Ilis own. 
 And even should He ask again 
 
 Of thee thy youthful life, 
 Refuse it not, for with that gift 
 
 "Will end thine earthly strife. 
 For ' he who seeketh life to save, 
 
 Shall seek to save in vain ;
 
 ELVIXOR. 107 
 
 But he who dieth for My sake, 
 Shall life eternal gain.'" 
 
 He spoke, his voice grew eloquent, 
 
 And more erect his frame, 
 His eyes shone forth a sparkle that 
 
 Rcveal'd an inward flame. 
 'Twas thus they parted, watching stood, 
 
 In silence, Elvinor, 
 Until the fading footstep sounds 
 
 Did reach her ears no more. 
 Pondering deeply, slowly she 
 
 Mov'd through the close-grown trees, 
 As harmonising with her thoughts, 
 
 There play'd the soughing breeze. 
 
 At length the pathway end she reach'd, 
 There came a rustling sound,
 
 108 ELVINOR. 
 
 Around the face of Elvinor 
 A cloak was quickly wound. 
 
 A stifled cry, a feeling as 
 Of death did o'er her creep, 
 
 A gasp, and she unconscious fell 
 Into a drugged sleep. 
 
 A moment Abnyard stood and watch'd, 
 
 Then turning he did say 
 Unto the monks : " Now carry her 
 
 In secrecy away, 
 Imprison'd in the Abbey she 
 
 Alone must wait until 
 To-morrow, when the Abbot doth 
 
 Dictate to you his will." 
 With stealthy steps then Elvinor 
 
 They hurried through the wood, 
 And took the secret way that led 
 
 To th' Abbey of St. Jude.
 
 ELVINOR. 109 
 
 As struck the distant belfry clock 
 The early morning hour, 
 
 Was Elvinor, for heresy, 
 Within the Church's pow'r. 
 
 It now was dark as deep midnight, 
 
 Still Abnyard yet did stay 
 Beside a huge and fallen oak, 
 
 That in the forest lay ; 
 When through the trees a portly frame, 
 
 Came to where Abnyard stood, 
 Whom he in whispers greeted, as 
 
 The Abbot of St. Jude. 
 
 " Hast aught to tell ? " the Abbot said, 
 " Methought, last night, that we
 
 110 ELVINOR. 
 
 Arrang'd full well our secret plans. 
 Wilt thou yet aught from me ? " 
 
 " But this," said Abnyard, " All goes well. 
 
 But, when the night has fled, 
 The news that Elvinor has flown 
 
 Will through the castle spread ; 
 And Earlingmore an angry search, 
 
 To North, South, East, and West, 
 Will straight dispatch, nor give himself, 
 
 Till news comes, aught of rest. 
 Then listen ; at thy Abbey gate 
 
 A messenger will stay, 
 To know if thou the search can'st aid ; 
 
 Thus thou to him must say. 
 
 " Last night about the hour of twelve, 
 While at the chapel shrine
 
 ELY IN OR 111 
 
 I knelt, and intercession pray'd 
 
 Of Mary, Saint Divine, 
 For my past sins, a message came, 
 
 That bade a brother go 
 And pray beside the bed of one 
 
 "Whom death was laying low. 
 It seem'd an answer to my pray'r, 
 
 A summons to do good, 
 I call'd no monk, but went myself, 
 
 Barefooted through the wood, 
 With him who brought the message, and 
 
 Stay'd by the sick man's bed, 
 Until by pray'r and council he 
 
 Lay still and comforted. 
 Then, thanking Heav'n for my success, 
 
 I once more bent my way 
 Through the wood, till I came again 
 
 To where the roadway lay. 
 'Twas barely light, still I this glove 
 
 Espied, and lo, within
 
 112 ELVINOR. 
 
 One of its slender fingers I 
 
 Found this fair gem-set ring. 
 Now take these to thy master straight, 
 
 The Lord of Earlingmore, 
 For they perchance may tell a tale 
 
 Of this lost Elvinor. 
 And if thy lord knows nought of them, 
 
 Bring thou both back to me ; 
 No other news I now can give 
 
 Than what is told to thee." 
 
 He ceas'd, and in the Abbot's hand 
 A handsome ring he plac'd, 
 
 Also a glove, whose surface was 
 With mud and clay defae'd. 
 
 " These Elv'nor's are," thus Abnyard said, 
 " The ring, from Earlingmore
 
 ELVINOR. 118 
 
 A present was, and he will know 
 It, when he sees once more. 
 
 The sequel to thy tale can'st leave 
 To mine inventing brain, 
 
 Look to thyself, now fare thee well, 
 Until we meet again." 
 
 " Adieu Abnyard," the Abbot said, 
 
 " Thou hast a mighty mind, 
 And well methinks our plan hath been 
 
 From first to last dcsign'd. 
 When the wide lands of Earlingmore 
 
 Food for the Abbey bear, 
 With goodly rents, and bounteous crops, 
 
 Thou shalt its fortunes share." 
 
 With beaming eyes and happy heart, 
 The Abbot then forsook
 
 lit ELVINOR. 
 
 The wood, and towards the Abbey gate 
 
 The secret pathway took. 
 With scornful eyes did Abnyard gaze, 
 
 And, by that fallen oak, 
 The thoughts that crowded round his mind 
 
 Soliloquising spoke : 
 
 " Go thou, and act the part I will, 
 
 Thou art a loathsome tool ; 
 A coward, without intellect, 
 
 A proud and cruel fool ; 
 Go thou and live thy little life, 
 
 Aye, live till my command 
 Bids Art aid me to move thee from 
 
 The living of the land. 
 'Tis well, methinks, man knows not what 
 
 The future doth contain, 
 For then all plots and counterplots 
 
 AVere useless and in vain.
 
 ELVINOR. 11 J 
 
 'Tis well what shall be, thus is wrapp'd 
 
 AVithin the future's womb, 
 Surrounded, to the eye of man, 
 
 In dark and mystic gloom. 
 'Tis well, for thou proud Abbot can'st 
 
 With present pleasures wed, 
 While certain death, unknown to thee, 
 
 Doth lurk beside thy bed. 
 Then live awhile, I slowly move, 
 
 But all my work do well, 
 For surely death thy body waits, 
 
 As for thy soul doth Hell." 
 
 Still musing, Abnyard slowly mov'd, 
 With cautious steps his way 
 
 He took, and reach'd the castle ere 
 Broke out the light of day.
 
 110 ELVINOR. 
 
 The morn had dawn'd, another day 
 
 Its measur'd time had sped ; 
 And night once more her mantle dark 
 
 Around the earth had spread. 
 No light from moon, nor yet from star, 
 
 Unto the earth way found ; 
 The distant rocks sent echoing back 
 
 The rumbling thundersound. 
 
 Within a low, and darken'd room 
 
 Abnyard, alone and still, 
 Sat writing, while no other sound 
 
 Except his gliding quill 
 Disturb'd the air ; an hour he sat, 
 
 When from without the door 
 There came a knock, and, entering, 
 
 A page this message bore ;
 
 ELVINOR. 117 
 
 'Twas thus he spoke : 
 
 " Good Father, I 
 
 Do from Lord Henry pray 
 Thy good assistance and advice, 
 
 "Within an hour's delay." 
 
 Said Abnyard, 
 
 " With thy master I, 
 
 Withiu an hour shall be, 
 And my best council give, which he 
 
 Hath deign'd to ask of me." 
 
 The page retir'd, and Abnyard then 
 Rehears'd the part once more, 
 
 Which his intention was to play 
 Before Lord Earlingmore. 
 
 With stealthy tread he pac'd the room, 
 While of his tale thought he,
 
 118 ELVINOR. 
 
 He scarcely spoke, but thought aloud, 
 In this soliloquy : 
 
 " When scandal hot from foolish tongues 
 
 Unevidenced stands, 
 And with her rat'ling, prat'ling tongue 
 
 An honour'd name she brands ; 
 "When she the cheeks of innocence 
 
 Fires with burning shame, 
 And throws her accusations round 
 
 A woman's unstain'd name, 
 What 'vails it if mistaken she 
 
 Herself at length doth find ? 
 The blow is giv'n, the name is toss'd 
 
 With ev'ry changing wind, 
 From North to South, from East to West ; 
 
 What 'vails it doth she try 
 To stay the storm herself hath raised — 
 
 To stay the branding cry ?
 
 ELVTNOR. 11!) 
 
 What 'vails it when she her mistakes 
 
 In whispers tells the crowd, 
 While, with her brazen voice doth speak, 
 
 Her damning lies aloud ? 
 
 " In scandal's shape, suspicion will 
 
 By Earlingmorc abide, 
 And tell him Elvinor hath fled 
 
 Across the border side 
 With some young gallant ; thus his mind, 
 
 All predispos'd to hate, 
 Will not revolt when he doth learn 
 
 What truly was her fate. 
 Tis thus that while his blackest thoughts 
 
 Do dwell around her name, 
 While doth suspicion whisper guilt, 
 
 And scandal tell of shame, 
 That I can now command success, 
 
 Nor care what price I pay,
 
 120 ELVINOR. 
 
 So that success doth follow me, 
 And my command ohey." 
 
 Alone in his still chamber sat 
 
 Lord Henry Earlingmore, 
 A warrior he, of goodly skill, 
 
 "Was e'er in times of war ; 
 A man he was, whose speech was frank, 
 
 No cunning haa his mind, 
 He always fought his foes in front, 
 
 Nor crept on them behind. 
 
 Thus spake he on the battlefield, 
 
 " A free and open fight 
 We wage, nor seek to butcher men 
 
 Beneath the shades of night. 
 Let others wage unequal strife, 
 
 And from some hidden lair,
 
 ELVIKOR. 121 
 
 Pounce on their unsuspecting foes 
 
 Ere they their swords can bare. 
 All's fair in war, the adage says, 
 
 As is all fair in love, 
 But I prefer against my foes 
 
 In open way to move. 
 Then of my soldiers, he who doth 
 
 AY age mean or unfair war, 
 "Will straightway, by his conduct, he 
 
 Offend Lord Earlingmore." 
 
 'Twas thus in battle Henry spake, 
 
 "While too, in times of peace, 
 Unbridl'd, as his thoughts arose, 
 
 He gave them their release. 
 Of hasty temper, quick incens'd, 
 
 He quickly was appeas'd, 
 Nor spake he words for lady's ears, 
 
 When much he was displeas'd.
 
 122 ELVIKOR. 
 
 Easily led, but never driv'n, 
 
 And, though religious, he 
 Deem'd it no wrong when put abcut 
 
 To swear right lustily. 
 Such was the man whose iron frame 
 
 Unchafing ever wore 
 The heavy armour of the time, — 
 
 Such was Lord Earlingmore. 
 
 As in his lonely chamber, he 
 
 Was seated now alone, 
 The sultry air was broken by 
 
 A distant thunder moan. 
 Unheeded 'twas, for Henry there 
 
 Was deep in reverie, 
 His mind pent full of anxious thoughts, 
 
 Xaught for the storm cared he. 
 Silent he sat, and pond'ring lean'd 
 
 Upon his hand his head,
 
 ELVINOR. 12a 
 
 "When through the op'ning doorway came, 
 
 With sly and gentle tread, 
 Abnyard. He pac'd across the room. 
 
 To Earlingmore he spoke, 
 Who constrain'd himself to listen, 
 
 And from his rev'rie broke. 
 
 " The Hand of Heaven is sometimes hard 
 
 For mortal frame to bear, 
 But he who acts a noble part, 
 
 Shall after glory share. 
 Tidings to-night of ill I bring, 
 
 Which near to thee concern ; 
 To-night Temptation's form shall rise, 
 
 Which thou from thee must spurn. 
 Let Mem'ry raise for thee once more 
 
 The dying bed, where thou 
 Vengeance against all heresy, 
 
 Most solemnly did'st vow.
 
 Now hearken, this most fatal sin 
 
 Again hath shown a sign ; 
 Once more its arm is raised up 
 
 Against the Church Divine. 
 And I, remem'bring thy sworn vow, 
 
 Do even now rely 
 Upon thy help, Lord Henry, to 
 
 Crush out this heresy." 
 
 The face of Earlingmore did change, 
 
 As Abnyard brought again 
 Before his mind the deathbed where 
 
 His much lov'd bride had lain. 
 With all the force of passion strong 
 
 His heart to her had clung, 
 And now the mem'ry of her death 
 
 Again his heart strings rung. 
 He deem'd her spirit linger'd yet 
 
 In purgatory, where
 
 ELVINOR. 125 
 
 The blasted name of heresy 
 Did brand her with despair; 
 
 Then thinking thus, to Abnyard he 
 Replied thus haughtily: 
 
 " Thou, Father, now for many years 
 
 Hast liv'd thy life with me, 
 Did'st ever know a time when I 
 
 Repented what I swore ? 
 Did'st ever know a sacred vow 
 
 Forsworn by Earlingmore ? 
 I now 'fore thee repeat mine oath, 
 
 That I this heresy 
 Condemn, and I will aid against 
 
 All thus accus'd by thee. 
 If it were one whom I do view 
 
 As dearest in my home, 
 I e'en would keep that sacred oath, 
 
 And take the side of Rome."
 
 12(i ELVIXOR. 
 
 He ccas'd, and both wore silent for 
 A space, when Earlingmore 
 
 Spoke once again ; this time his voice 
 A milder accent bore. 
 
 " I call'd thine aid," Abnyard, he said, 
 
 " To say how we may gain 
 More tidings of this Elvinor ; 
 
 Our search is yet in vain 
 So far, of all my messengers 
 
 But one some tidings brought, 
 And yonder tokens he did bring, 
 
 With silent language fraught." 
 
 While speaking, his finger pointed 
 To glove and ring that lay
 
 ELVINOH. 127 
 
 Upon a table standing by, 
 
 Where the bright glancing play 
 Of light'ning lit the beauteous gem 
 
 "Which set that golden ring, 
 And made it seem as liquid fire 
 Was lock'd the stone within. 
 
 " That ring," continu'd Earlingmore, 
 
 " As well, as yonder glove, 
 Are Elvinor's. The ring I gave 
 
 When Leonard's proffer'd love 
 She did accept a few months since ; 
 
 And now where has she gone ? 
 With gallant 'cross the border side, 
 
 Methiuks she e'en hath flown ; 
 For on the road that northward leads 
 
 Yon glove and ring did lie ; 
 They cannot speak, but yet methinks 
 
 They clear the mystery."
 
 ia8 ELVINOR. 
 
 lie ccas'd, and Abnyard then bis mind 
 
 To all its force did mould ; 
 While nearer drew the mutt'ring sWm 
 
 Hia lying tale he told. 
 
 " The Hand of Ileav'n, I e'en have said 
 
 Doth try the soul of man, 
 And God hath tried those he most lov'd, 
 
 Since first the world began. 
 Thou, Earlingmore, hast ever been 
 
 True to the Romish Creed, 
 And when thy dying hour doth come 
 
 'Twill serve thee in thy need ; 
 And man's good actions here on earth 
 
 Can tame, for those he loves, 
 The scorching flame that in the lake 
 
 Of purgatory moves.
 
 EL VINOR. 12'.) 
 
 Remember thy departed bride, 
 
 And nerve thine inmost will 
 Temptation, in his fairest garb, 
 
 To conquer and to kill. 
 Remember, that for heresy 
 
 Fair Pity is a sin, 
 And close thy heart with firmness round, 
 
 Nor let her enter in. 
 Sad news it is I must recount, 
 
 "Which truth makes hard and stern, 
 Forgive me if thou suddenly 
 
 My fatal news dost learn ; 
 For, with no gallant, Elvinor 
 
 Is o'er the border sped ; 
 But she, thy pride, Lord Earlingmore, 
 
 For heresy is dead." 
 
 " Dead !" said Henry, as to his feet 
 He sprang, the table o'er
 
 ISO ELVIXOR. 
 
 He turn'd, and with a crash it fell 
 Upon the stone-pav'd floor. 
 
 " Dead ! and guilty of this foul sin, 
 
 Fair, beautiful, and young ! 
 Some cursed blunder must have work'd 
 
 To Elvinor this wrong." 
 
 " Is this thy vow, Lord Earlingmorc ? " 
 
 Thus interrupting spoke 
 Abnyard, " Thy vow to-night renew'd 
 
 Thou can'st not now revoke. 
 Remember what ill heresy 
 
 Hath work'd in time before 
 To thee and thine, and steal thy heart 
 
 Against it, Earlingmore."
 
 ELVINOR. LSI 
 
 " Sav on," said Henrv, " if so far 
 This fatal sin hath spread 
 
 As to be owned by Elvinor, 
 Thank God she now is dead ! " 
 
 He ceas'd. His preconcerted tale 
 
 Abnyard then straight unrolFd, 
 Nor when it did his purpose serve 
 
 Car'd he what lies he told, 
 So they as lies were never known. 
 
 Such conduct, by the by, 
 In modern days hath been renam'd, 
 
 'Tis call'd diplomacy. 
 
 " Lord Earlingmore, my conduct in 
 This matter to make plain, 
 
 I must recall years long since fled, 
 Mv earlv life again
 
 132 ELVIXOli. 
 
 Must view. 
 
 " Then in my younger days 
 
 'Twas fear'd that heresy 
 Increasing was in England, and 
 
 In Europe o'er the sea. 
 Of Romish brothers many did 
 
 Form in a secret band 
 To aid the Church, by private means, 
 
 Throughout all Europe's land 
 This sin to crush ; and lo, as one 
 
 False member easily, 
 Unless by sacred oath was bound, 
 
 Might thwart in secrecy 
 The Church's plans, if they perchance 
 
 In righteous wrath should move 
 Against one whom that member did 
 
 Surround with mortal love : 
 We, to prevent, so fram'd the oath 
 
 Which ev'ry member spoke,
 
 ELVINOB. 188 
 
 That he no part, while life endur'd, 
 
 Of it might e'er revoke. 
 An oath it was, in which each did 
 
 Renounce all human love, 
 Which e'er against the Romish Church, 
 
 In enmity did move. 
 Each swore no blood relation should 
 
 Protect the guilty one, 
 The warmest ties of blood to break, 
 
 "Where heresy was done. 
 Each swore, that mother, friend, or sire, 
 
 That sister, wife,* or child, 
 That brother, — aye, all mortal loves, 
 
 If they were but defil'd 
 By heresy, should fall before 
 
 The Church's righteous hate ; 
 And swore that he no hand would raise 
 
 To save them from their fate. 
 
 * The word wife inserted only when the oath was 
 taken by a layman.
 
 184 ELVIXOR. 
 
 Much more was in that oath contain'd, 
 
 To tell 'tis needless now, 
 Each did repeat this curse when he 
 
 Had sworn the solemn vow." 
 
 " Do I fail aught in that which I 
 
 Have sworn most solemnly, 
 For me, let pardon ne'er be found, 
 
 Though sorely tempted I 
 Might be, and may my punishment 
 
 By Satan be design'd, 
 And from his clutches may God ne'er 
 
 Escapement let me find ; 
 Upon earth may my body e'er 
 
 With mis'ry blasted be ; 
 And may my soul, by death releas'd, 
 
 For all eternity 
 Unrested walk through fiery flame, 
 
 Immortal agony
 
 ELVINOR. 135 
 
 In horror fram'd, God ever let 
 
 It haunt and follow me; 
 Until in periods vast, which Time 
 
 No pow'r hath e'er to span, 
 Periods, whose calculation goes 
 
 Beyond the mind of man, 
 My spirit shall foul madness in 
 
 Her fatal chains enrol ; 
 If in mine oath I dare to fail 
 
 May God so damn my soul." 
 
 " Such were the words," thus Ahnyard said, 
 
 ' ' And till my life shall end 
 I am so sworn the interests 
 
 Of our Church to defend. 
 Then listen while I now recount 
 
 The death of Elvinor, 
 And how I knew against the Church 
 
 She wag'd unrighteous war.
 
 13G ELV1K0R. 
 
 " Some weeks ago I chanc'd to pass 
 
 Through Earlingford's thick wood, 
 As I return'd from conf'rence with 
 
 The Abhot of St. Judo. 
 The ruins pass'd which thou dost know 
 
 Within the forest lie, 
 Mcthought mine ear a human voice 
 
 Heard, as I pass'd them by. 
 I stood a moment, hid behind 
 
 A stone of monstrous size, 
 "When, lo, to mine astonishment, 
 
 Before my watching eyes 
 There pass'd six men, whose muffled forms 
 
 Did secrecy portend, 
 With stealthy steps the ruins through 
 
 Their well-known way did wend. 
 One by one they disappeared, 
 
 And I once more alone,
 
 ELVIXOR. 137 
 
 The entrance sought, by which they had 
 
 Into the ruins gone ; 
 But found it not, so once again 
 
 Unto the wall return'd, 
 A murmur faint there met mine ear, 
 
 But I no w r ords discern 'd. 
 
 " Gazing above, a grating small 
 
 I saw, the which around 
 The ivy clung, methought through it 
 
 More eas'ly might the sound 
 Be heard of what was done within ; 
 
 Then climbing silently 
 To it, I heard a voice that pray'd 
 
 In low and hushen'd key ; 
 No longer doubting, once again 
 
 To Abbey I return'd, 
 And straight the news the Abbot told, 
 
 TVhich I but just had leara'd.
 
 138 ELVINOR. 
 
 " Such brethren who had ta'en the oath, 
 
 Just even told to thee, 
 He summon'd, then we form'd a plan 
 
 By which might taken be 
 These heretics. Last night we fix'd 
 
 The ruins to assail ; 
 But all escap'd through Elvinor, 
 
 By her our plan did fail. 
 
 " Twas thus, — By night for two long weeks 
 
 I watch'd, at length had found 
 The spring, by touching which a stone 
 
 Swung on its hinges round, 
 And then reveal'd a darken'd path, 
 
 That led its winding way 
 To meeting place of heresy, 
 
 Which 'niong the ruins lay.
 
 EL VINOR. lag 
 
 Last night it was that we, unknown 
 
 To any, had conceal'd 
 Ourselves within the passage, while 
 
 A sickly light reveaPd 
 To us the damning practice of 
 
 A secret heresy. 
 We deem'd them ours for where we stood 
 
 The exit seem'd to be, 
 And this we guarded. Suddenly 
 
 A low and rustling sound 
 The garment of a brother made, 
 
 As 'gainst the wall which bound 
 The passage it swept. Elvinor 
 
 Was leaning by the stone 
 That form'd the portal of the cell, 
 
 Where was the worship done. 
 
 " She heard the noise, and turning round, 
 Within her eyes did seem
 
 uo el vi yon. 
 
 To dwell the gaze of one M T ho wakes 
 
 From some unearthly dream. 
 Herself forgetting, quick as light 
 
 She clos'd an iron door 
 Before us, which, most foolishly, 
 
 We had not seen before. 
 With one accord, then all of us 
 
 Did towards the portal bound, 
 But uselessly ; nor spring, nor lock, 
 
 Our searching fingers found. 
 In silence there stood Elvinor, 
 
 While we the muffled tread 
 Of those within escaping heard 
 
 As from the cell they fled. 
 
 " Enrag'd, one brother, Elvinor 
 Did seize by either hand, 
 
 And he in acce nts stern and loud 
 Did straightway her command
 
 ELVlNoll. Ul 
 
 The door to open, for she knew 
 
 Where lurk'd the op'ning spring. 
 She answer'd not, tho' he her hand 
 
 "Within his own did wring 
 With force, that from the finger tips 
 
 The trickling blood did come ; 
 A sweep of pain pass'd o'er her face 
 
 But still the voice was dumb. 
 
 " I whisper'd, Thou can'st save thyself 
 
 By making some reply, 
 But neither would she aught assert, 
 
 Nor any-thing deny. 
 Then some to question did propose, 
 
 By means that might ensure 
 An answer. For thus argued they : 
 
 Few women may endure 
 The rack, if they have but to speak 
 
 Its wrenching pain to stay.
 
 U9 ELVIXOR. 
 
 Unto St. Jude they hurried her 
 "With such intent away. 
 
 " I dar'd not pity, useless was 
 
 The council I might give ; 
 I knew if obstinate she prov'd 
 
 Short time had she to live. 
 Lord Ilenry, it will naught avail 
 
 Minutely to tell all 
 Which in that chamber damp, last night, 
 
 Did Elvinor befall. 
 Let this suffice, she did refuse 
 
 To tell where might be found 
 Those we had lost, and said her tongue 
 
 By promise fast was bound. 
 Three times the fatal rollers they 
 
 Did turn, and then her head 
 Droop'd back ; when they the cords relax'd, 
 
 Her latest breath had sped."
 
 ELVINOR. U:\ 
 
 Thus told Abnyard his lying tale, 
 
 And when his voice he stay'd, 
 He scan'd the face of Earlingmore, 
 
 To see if pity made 
 Impression ; — but no, heresy 
 
 By him was so abhorr'd, 
 That stern and firm his visage kept 
 
 The Lord of Earlingford. 
 Tie forgot who was the sufTrer, 
 
 And steel'd his heart within 
 'Gainst all who guilty were of what 
 
 He deem'd so foul a sin. 
 
 Abnyard, who in the building of 
 
 His plans, where villainy 
 His guest was, did make them perfect 
 
 To cv'ry minutiaG ;
 
 144 ELVIXOR. 
 
 But when a simple plot he had, 
 
 "Where villainy could find 
 No resting place, he made mistakes, 
 
 To prove his simple mind ; 
 So that the superficial thought 
 
 Him shallow, but sincere ; 
 A zealous Catholic, from whom 
 
 No man had aught to fear. 
 But now the plot he play'd was real, 
 
 Though as a part rehears'd, 
 In which the slightest error he 
 
 Had as damnation curs'd. 
 He deem'd some explanation, then, 
 
 "Was due to Earlingmore, 
 As to the presence of the glove 
 
 And ring of Elvinor. 
 
 'Twas thus he spake : 
 
 " "When death did lio 
 On Elvinor's still face
 
 ELVIXOR. 145 
 
 We had no clue last night by which 
 The fugitives to trace. 
 
 " Some wonder'd then who was the maid 
 
 Whom they but just had slain, 
 They knew her not, for Elvinor 
 
 In lifetime did remain 
 Full much alone, and thoughtful she 
 
 Was ever since her birth ; 
 In childhood lacking playmates, she 
 
 Did lack fair childhood's mirth. 
 The habit of this solitude 
 
 To her had pleasing grown, 
 That on the verge of womanhood 
 
 Companions she had none. 
 
 " While thus the brethren wond'ring were, 
 Aside the Abbot came
 
 146 ELVINOR. 
 
 And spake with me, for loth was he 
 
 The brave and honour'd name 
 Of Earlingmore to mark and brand 
 
 "With fatal hcresv. 
 We argued long ; at length I said, 
 
 ' If left in mystery 
 Her death may be, then Scandal's tongue 
 
 Will a solution find, 
 And satisfy the ignorant, 
 
 And dupe the peasant's mind. 
 To-morrow morn let Earlingmore 
 
 His messengers forth send, 
 And, Abbot, he who comes to thee 
 
 Some trinket thou can'st tend 
 Of Elvinor's, and he will think 
 
 'Twas by some brother found 
 Last night, as on the service of 
 
 The Church he e'en was bound ; 
 Ajid let him tell what tale he may, 
 
 Or let him go in quest
 
 EL VI NOR. 147 
 
 Of other clues, — he'll tell the news, 
 
 Romance will do the rest ; 
 What she constructs let none gainsay, 
 
 And thus the honour'd name 
 Of Earlingmore will saved be 
 
 From heresy's foul shame. 
 The tale they spread of Elvinor 
 
 By facts they cannot prove, 
 "lis better far, than heresy, 
 
 To think her cause was love.' 
 
 " ^Ye argued much. The Abbot said, 
 
 At length, 
 
 ' Since Earlingmore 
 A noble Catholic hath liv'd, 
 
 This sin of Elvinor 
 Unknown and secret shall remain ; 
 
 Then let the idle say
 
 148 ELVINOR. 
 
 Whate'er they will, licr secret shall 
 Ne'er know the light of day.' 
 
 '"Twas thus they gave the glove and ring 
 
 Thy messenger unto. 
 Her best the Church hath done for thee, 
 
 Since faithful thou, and true, 
 Hast been to her. Now, Earlingmore, 
 
 My tale is even told ; 
 Then wilt thou listen while to thee 
 
 Thy duty I unfold ? 
 For my commission is of God, 
 
 And I the way must show, 
 "When duty treads a path obscure 
 
 "Where many false lights glow." 
 
 Abnyard so far his tale had told 
 "With greatest studied care,
 
 /■:/.r/xo;;. 149 
 
 His skilful voice, he moulded had 
 
 To elocution rare ; 
 So far success had greeted him, 
 
 Then Henry Earlingmore 
 Thus answ'ring spake, while nearer drew 
 
 Without, the tempesl war: 
 
 "Aye, Ahnyard, I well need advice, 
 
 For Leonard will return 
 To-night. How shall I tell the news ? 
 
 For he the fate must learn 
 Of Elvinor. How shall I teach 
 
 The lover to despise 
 The lov'd one, when for her fair cause 
 
 He ev'ry sacrifice 
 Would make ? How shall I answer him 
 
 If he throws hack the hlanie 
 On me ? How shall I answer him 
 
 If still he loves her name ? "
 
 150 ELVINOR. 
 
 Abnyard from his loose hanging robes 
 
 A roll of parchments took, 
 And while he spoke his face did mould 
 
 Unto its saddest look. 
 
 " Lord Earlingmore, since time begin, 
 
 The hand of God hath riv'n 
 The happiness of those He loved 
 
 To win their souls to Heav'n. 
 To show how He as sacred holds 
 
 An oath, He hath reveal'd 
 An ancient truth, the which hath been 
 
 By inspiration seal'd. 
 
 " An Israelite in time of old 
 A soldier such as thou —
 
 ELVIXOK. 151 
 
 When victory crovvn'd his efforts once 
 
 To God he made a vow, 
 That whatsoe'er first greeted him, 
 
 When home he came once more, 
 He as a sacrifice would slay 
 
 For his success in war. 
 Rash was the vow, for when he came 
 
 Victorious from the plain 
 Of battle, as he near'd his home — 
 
 His much-lov'd home again — 
 The first that came to him with joy, 
 
 A. welcome bright to bear, 
 Was his lov'd child, the only one, 
 
 His daughter young and fair. 
 
 " Such was the vow which Jephthah swore 
 
 In Jewish days of old ; 
 The oath, and how it was redeem'd, 
 
 Within God's Word are told.
 
 152 ELVIXOR. 
 
 " Then by that tale thyself must guide, 
 
 Remember, Henry, thou 
 'Fore God hast made, and solemnly 
 
 Hast sworn a sacred vow ; 
 And though the keeping of it sot ins 
 
 Too much for thee to bear, 
 Remember, those whom God doth love 
 
 On earth much grief must share. 
 
 " This very night for thy deep pain 
 
 Thy bride's soul shall be free 
 From purgatory's suffering ; 
 
 To-night she thence shall flee, 
 If thou wilt drain this bitter cup 
 
 Unto the very end, 
 Thyself unto the noble cause 
 
 Of Romish Church wilt lend.
 
 ELVIXol! L53 
 
 " Thy son each moment may return, 
 
 Remember then if he 
 Speaks 'gainst the fate of Elvinor, 
 
 He pities heresy ; 
 And in pitying then he doth 
 
 This heresy defend ; 
 But 'gainst so black and foul a sin 
 
 May Heav'n thy son forefend. 
 For though her death seems stern on earth, 
 
 Yet 'twas not man's design ; 
 In slaying her, we but obey'd 
 
 Command of God Divine. 
 And, EarliDgmore, remember too 
 
 It is the Pope's decree, 
 The Church, in order to prevent 
 
 The spread of heresy, 
 Shall exile all of those who dare 
 
 To pity or to sigh,
 
 154 EL UXOR. 
 
 The fate of those whom she condemns 
 For heresy to die. 
 
 " Xerve up thy mind, restore thy soul, 
 
 Remember, Henry, now, 
 What is the Tope's most stem decree, 
 
 Krmember still thy vow ; 
 And if thy son for Elvinor 
 
 Speaks in a pitying tone, 
 Unwav'ring must thou banish him, 
 
 And straightway must disown. 
 
 " Hark ! I hear the echoing stroke 
 Of one who rides at speed, 
 
 Methinks 'tis thy returning son 
 And his warrior steed ; 
 
 He comes, and I do leave thee, while 
 Iu purgatory now,
 
 ELVINOR. 155 
 
 A soul in anguish waits, lest thou 
 Shouldst dare to break thy vow." 
 
 He left, and as the door he clos'd, 
 The distant tempest war, 
 
 Echoing through the castle sent 
 An angry sullen roar. 
 
 ^■^^nqXI^^X^V^s^j
 
 156 ELVINOH. 
 
 Again was Earlingmorc alone, 
 
 Till Leonard's armed heel 
 Along the echoing pavement 
 
 Did send its ringing peal. 
 He enter'd, and the glow of health 
 
 And youth was on his face ; 
 The colour that stout exercise 
 
 Doth in the visage trace. 
 Encas'd in armour smooth and bright 
 
 "Was Leonard Earlingmore, 
 One gauntlet in his hand he held, 
 
 The other one he wore. 
 But ere he spoke, Lord Henry rose, 
 
 And stood before him there, 
 He summon'd all his force of will 
 
 A visage stern to hear. 
 A father's heart had Earlingmore, 
 
 And all his strength of will
 
 ELVINOB. 157 
 
 Could not yet nerve his hand to strike, 
 
 The radiant joy to kill 
 That dwelt upon Sir Leonard's face. 
 
 He strove then to divide 
 His news, the death of Elvinor 
 
 Told first, then how she died. 
 
 Thus he in speaking first began, 
 
 " Ere greeting there can be, 
 Hark, Leonard, to the fatal news 
 
 "Which I must tell to thee. 
 My son, nerve up thy soldier mind, 
 
 Against the cold bleak blast, 
 Now given to thy father's hand 
 
 Around thy form to cast. 
 
 " There is mourning in the castle, 
 And sorrow in the room,
 
 Lis ELVINOR. 
 
 There's mourning for the fair and young 
 
 Brought to an early doom ! 
 For life hath left her slender form, 
 
 And hath for ever sped, 
 Thy love can be thy love no more, 
 
 Thine Elvinor is dead ! " 
 
 All pale, and still, and ashen white 
 Sir Leonard's face did grow, 
 
 Long 'ere his sire the news had told 
 His cheek had lost its glow. 
 
 In silence sire and son did stand, 
 O'er Leonard still despair 
 
 There crept, as 'gainst the portal he 
 Did rest ; while leaning there 
 
 He spoke in low yet manly tones, 
 Upraising to his head
 
 F.l.l'IXOR. 159 
 
 And to his pain-drawn face his hand, 
 Unto his sire he said : 
 
 " From earth for me all hope is gone, 
 
 I never more shall know 
 The brightness of fair woman's smile, 
 
 Lost is the gentle flow 
 Of Elvinor's sweet voice ! My life 
 
 To me has little worth, 
 My brightest and my fairest hope 
 
 Is now no more of earth." 
 
 His voice he stay'd, a silence came, 
 A silence short and brief; 
 
 Then spoke in softening accents, 
 Of sad and tender grief :
 
 1G0 ELV1XOR. 
 
 " Oh, Elvinor, is tliy sweet form 
 
 From me for ever fled ? 
 In the bright flower of thy youth 
 
 Can'st thou lie cold and dead ? 
 Are thy lips for ever silent, 
 
 Thy voice for ever still ? 
 Thy voice, whose gentle eloquence 
 
 Could calm my sterner will ! 
 Thine eyes, are they for ever clos'd ? 
 
 O'er which the mystic spell 
 Of thy long and silken lashes 
 
 In gentle shadows fell. 
 Those hands, that when they link'd in mine, 
 
 Stirr'd through mine inmost frame, 
 Lie cold and dead ; but leaving me 
 
 The mcm'ry of thy name ! 
 
 " I thought not, sweetest Elvinor, 
 While yet thou wast on earth,
 
 ELVINOE. 161 
 
 Of death, nor then remember'd I 
 
 Thou wast of mortal birth, 
 For when within the presence of 
 
 Thy bright and beauteous love, 
 The things of earth seem'd far beneath, 
 
 And we seem'd far above. 
 
 " Where art thou ? for thou art not dead, 
 
 Is not thy spirit free ? 
 But though thou livest, Elvinor, 
 
 Alas ! art dead to me ; 
 For, while I am the creature of 
 
 A span of mortal time, 
 Thou 'mid angelic forms dost dwell 
 
 In Heaven's distant clime, — 
 "Where thy beauteous form doth move 
 
 With sweet enchanting grace, 
 And where no dampening sorrow 
 
 Can pass athwart thy face. 
 
 M
 
 1G2 ELVINOB. 
 
 Oh, thou wast bright and beautiful ! 
 
 And angels' envious eyes 
 Have deemed thee too fair for earth, 
 
 And lur'd thee to the skies ! 
 Lost, lost to me ! — yet still the sun 
 
 His bright'ning ray will shine, 
 But never more to gild again 
 
 An earthly hope of mine. 
 
 "Had I lost strength, had I lost pow'r, 
 
 Had I lost sordid gold, 
 The bright and kindly voice of Hope 
 
 Her whispering tale had told. 
 "What now is strength ? — it means long life, 
 
 When I most hate to live ; 
 And what is pow'r ? — when that I wish 
 
 It faileth e'en to give. 
 What use is gold ? — when the desire 
 
 For which I most do long
 
 KLVINOR. 163 
 
 It cannot buy, because my wish 
 Doth not to earth belong. 
 
 "Aye, useless baubles, things of earth, 
 
 Playthings ye are of man, 
 That most engross his thoughts, while he 
 
 Lives out his little span 
 Of life ! — where is the grandeur of 
 
 The Lord of all the earth ? 
 "WTiat creature doth respect his woe ? 
 
 And who doth deem him worth 
 A passing thought ? Man's heart comes full 
 
 Of deep despairing woe ! 
 The sun will not refuse to shine, 
 
 Nor winds refuse to blow, 
 Nor waves to roar, nor thundersound 
 
 To penetrate the air ; — 
 Proud Nature still pursues her course, 
 
 Nor cares for man's despair.
 
 lfi-l ELV1N0R. 
 
 " TTnsympathis'd he walks his way, 
 Still heats the sun, still glows the day, 
 Each earthborn maggot has its day, — 
 And so hast thou, oh man ! ,; 
 
 Such were the bitter thoughts that pass'd 
 
 In Leonard's sorrow'd mind, 
 But in their utterance could he 
 
 No consolation find ; 
 And turning then, as all men must, 
 
 If not in life, in death, 
 Unto their Author, pass'nately 
 
 He pray'd beneath his breath : — 
 
 " God ! why hast Thou done this thing ? 
 great Almighty Jove !
 
 EL VINOR. 105 
 
 Slay also me, and let me join 
 
 What was my mortal love ; 
 Or if Thou wilt not, still, my God, 
 
 Through Thine Almighty Son, 
 Oh, grant when I upon this earth 
 
 My mortal course have run, 
 And when my spirit shall be free 
 
 Of this its earth-built pris'n, 
 That I may seek her once again 
 
 Upon the plains of Heav'n." 
 
 Lord Earlingmore most anxiously 
 Had watch' d with deep concern 
 
 Reception of his news, and he 
 In accents seeming stern 
 
 Now spoke : 
 
 " My son, control thy grief. 
 Unworthy is the maid
 
 166 EL VIXOll. 
 
 For whom thou utterest such thoughts, 
 For whom such prayers are pray'd. 
 
 And if unworthy, then from thee 
 With indignation spurn 
 
 The love, that once for Elvinor 
 AVithin thy heart did burn. 
 
 " The Church of Rome in heresy 
 
 Have found a deadly curse, 
 To every Christian country 
 
 Throughout the Universe, 
 And thus decrees : 
 
 '"Whoever, by 
 
 Example, word, or deed, 
 Loth aught against the faithful Church, 
 
 Against the Romish Creed, 
 Shall by the Church be straight condemn'd, 
 
 If they their guilt deny, —
 
 ELVINOR. 167 
 
 Accurs'd of God, accurs'd of man, 
 Within their sin to die.' 
 
 " So wills Heaven. Thou must not grieve 
 
 Against thine earthly fate ; 
 With manly resolution turn 
 
 Thy former love to hate. 
 For ere yon distant western sky 
 
 By setting sun was fir'd, 
 Thine Elvinor, for heresy, 
 
 Upon the rack expir'd." 
 
 How quick and sudden is the change, 
 From night to brightest day ! 
 
 When o'er the dark expanse of Heav'n, 
 The forked light'nings play.
 
 168 ELVLXOU. 
 
 As quick and sudden was the change 
 
 That o'er Sir Leonard flew ; 
 That made the sadness on his face 
 
 Take anger's deepest hue ; 
 While yet, scarce understanding, he 
 
 Gaz'd in his sire's face, 
 But sternly look'd it back on him, 
 
 No doubting there could trace. 
 
 " The rack ! " And as he spoke the word 
 
 His lips 'came ghastly pale, 
 " Such engine foul to tear a form 
 
 So fragile and so frail ! 
 And doth the arm of Romish Church 
 
 Shield those who did the deed ? 
 The passion foul of cruelty, 
 
 With such a life to feed !
 
 ELVINOR. 109 
 
 " Had knight said aught 'gainst her fair name, 
 
 Deep vengeance then had I 
 Demanded, both with sword and lance, 
 
 In courts of chivalry. 
 But now what vengeance can be mine ? 
 
 What 'vaileth it to search 
 
 For vengeance, when this deed is held 
 
 As sacred by the Church ? 
 I cannot war 'gainst beardless monks, 
 
 And so her death avenge. 
 They cannot fight, to murder them 
 
 Would be the coward's revenge. 
 Thus I must choose 'twixt murder foul, 
 
 And standing idly by, 
 When all my soul, and heart, and mind, 
 
 For action stern do cry ! " 
 
 " My sire, Thou art a soldier ; and 
 Can so thy nature change,
 
 70 ELVIXOR. 
 
 That thou upon their monkly side 
 In such a deed wilt range ? 
 
 Are they of the same sex as thou, 
 "Who woman can condemn 
 
 To such a death ? Do they deserve 
 To bear the name of men ? 
 
 " Aye, men who stood directing there, 
 
 Enwrapt in monk's grey gown ; 
 And men who mov'd that engine rude, 
 
 And ply'd those levers down. 
 Thrice cursed death ! Each manly cheek 
 
 "Would blush and burn with shame, 
 To think that they who did such deeds 
 
 Should own our manhood's name ! " 
 
 As Leonard ceas'd, a moaning sound, 
 A lowly utter'd cry,
 
 ELYINOR. 171 
 
 Did seem to pass the door without, 
 
 And, vanishing, to die. 
 The cheek of Earliugmore grew pale 
 
 "With superstitious fear, 
 But Leonard's thought was otherwhere. 
 
 The sound he did not hear. 
 
 A silence came, Lord Henry then 
 Did slowly raise his hand, 
 
 And pointing to the storm without, 
 His son did thus command : — 
 
 " Go forth among yon storm-toss'd winds, 
 
 Return to me no more ! 
 No son have I ! In me will end 
 
 The house of Earlingmore ! '
 
 172 I.I.VIXOR. 
 
 Sir Leonard turn'd, but ore lie went 
 
 lie spoke but once again. 
 " My sire," he said, " When thou with death 
 
 Upon thy bed art lain, 
 May the bright form of Elvinor 
 
 Bend her fair angel face 
 O'er thee, and whisper in thine ear 
 
 Words of redeeming grace ! 
 May tell thee, by thy deathbed side, 
 
 Of her wrongs forgiven ; 
 And teach thee in thy dying hour 
 
 A brighter road to Heav'n." 
 
 -M > 3>>J £ ^ €K X-
 
 ELY'INOR. 173 
 
 The storm increas'd its violence, 
 
 While Leonard bent his way, 
 Still clad in all his armour bright, 
 
 In all his steel array. 
 He left his home, but heeded not 
 
 To say a last adieu 
 To courtyard, casement, steed, or man, 
 
 Or walls of time-worn hue. 
 For deep within his heart had sunk 
 
 A dark and dread despair, 
 Which sapp'd the strength of man's resolve ; 
 
 Defenceless left and bare 
 The field that should be guarded e'er 
 
 'Gainst Satan's scheming wile, 
 Where now he easy access gain'd 
 
 To blacken and defile.
 
 174 ELVINOR. 
 
 Deeply brooding, still unheeding 
 
 The measur'd flight of time, 
 That calmly mid the roaring storm 
 
 Peal'd forth the midnight chime, 
 He reach'd the stately mountain side, 
 
 Where often he before 
 Had wander' d, whisp'ring softly by 
 
 The side of Elvinor ; 
 But now alone, while ^lem'ry drew 
 
 A face that ne'er should be 
 Again to him, on mortal earth, 
 
 A bright reality. 
 
 Alone and still did Leonard stand, 
 While past his feet there sped 
 
 The furious rush of wat'ry foam 
 That swept the torrent bed. 
 
 O'er rocks and stones the waters wash'd, 
 With endless splashing sound,
 
 ELVIXOR. 175 
 
 As down a ravine deep they leapt 
 And shook the earth around. 
 
 Amid the flashing light'ning there 
 
 Stood Leonard watching by ; 
 In fancy heard a whisper — " Leap, 
 
 And end thy misery ! 
 Leap thou, and break the chain that links 
 
 Thy soul to this dull earth ; 
 Leap, tho' the deed thy body slays, 
 
 It gives thy spirit birth." 
 
 He stood, and as each crowding thought 
 Came o'er his sicken'd brain, 
 
 Fair Reason against Satan strove 
 To force it back again. 
 
 But weaker grew her arguments, 
 Her voice was nearly spent,
 
 17 ELVINOR. 
 
 And foul Temptation watch'd with joy 
 
 Success of his intent ; 
 "When, by another hand was giv'n 
 
 A warning from the store 
 Of nature. 
 
 A mighty rock that stood 
 
 A thousand years before 
 Upon that precipice secure, 
 
 But now was wash'd away 
 The hard supporting earth that 'neath 
 
 Its mighty basis lay, 
 As o'er its rugged surface too 
 
 The yearly waters sped, 
 They render'd weak, and weaker still, 
 
 The rock upon its bed ; 
 So that the force of waters now, 
 
 In balance held the stone, 
 "Which to and fro did tott'ring sway, 
 
 "With crunch, and creak, and groan.
 
 As Leonard stood, by lightening was 
 The heaving mass reveal'd ; 
 
 No sooner seen, than once again 
 By darkness 'twas conceal'd. 
 
 A sudden burst of water came, 
 
 Whose thund'ring force unbound 
 The mighty mass, tottering, it 
 
 O'ersway'd with deaf 'ning sound ; 
 Bounding, smashing, hissing, crashing, 
 
 From ravine side to side ; 
 With sound which in that moment brief, 
 
 The thunder's voice defied ; 
 Strong and mighty trees uprooting, 
 
 That grew below its bed, 
 While around it clung the water, 
 
 As through the air it sped. 
 
 N
 
 178 elvinor. 
 
 As the trembling inouut seem'd reeling, 
 
 Sir Leonard backward drew ; 
 Deaf Lis ears with roar and crash wore, 
 
 His face of deathlike hue. 
 Reason her sweet pow'r regaining, 
 
 Victorious banner bore, 
 As Despair defeated left him, 
 
 He rose a man once more. 
 And the sight of nature's warring 
 
 O'er him broke its power, 
 Striking chords of nobler passions, 
 
 Within that stormy hour. 
 
 As he stood a change came o'er him, 
 His will could not control, 
 
 That swept his mind above the storm 
 And stirr'd his inmost soul.
 
 EL VINOR. 179 
 
 With face that stern resolve portray'd, 
 
 "With fiery flashing eye ; 
 Thus Leonard spake, while light'ning play'd 
 
 Athwart the blacken'd sky : 
 
 " Listen, oh ye roaring waters, 
 
 Dashing, splashing as ye fall ; 
 Listen, oh ye steadfast mountains 
 
 Cover' d with a black'ning pall ; 
 And ye rocks of rugged hardness 
 
 y the force of waters riv'n ; 
 Listen, oh ye glancing light'nings, 
 
 And ye thunderbolts of Heav'n. 
 Listen, oh ye gather'd darkness, 
 
 Listen, winds so wild and free, 
 That ride upon the anger' d breast 
 
 Of a wild disturbed sea.
 
 180 ELVINOR. 
 
 " "When the foaming deep is seething, 
 And the ocean is upheaving 
 
 Long forgotten dead : 
 When mounts on their basis swaying, 
 No more Nature's laws obeying, 
 
 Fill men's hearts with dread : 
 
 " When the sun his light is veiling, 
 And an universal wailing 
 
 Fills the air around : 
 When to Time great Death is neariug, 
 And an angry God appearing 
 
 Shakes the earth-made ground : 
 
 " When the sky with meteors flashing, 
 Thundersound its loudest crashing, 
 
 'Mid surrounding gloom : 
 And when Heav'n's pillars are shaking,
 
 ELVINOR. 181 
 
 Earth with trembling fear is quaking, 
 "Waits to hear her doom : — 
 
 " Then, Elv'nor, shall I remember 
 
 Thine injustice and thy wrong ; 
 How upon the earth they tore thee 
 
 With the rack's most cruel thong ; 
 And before the God of Justice 
 
 Shall thy murderers appear, 
 When their tongues no words can answer 
 
 Shall their condemnation hear. 
 Truth that sits beside the Godhead, 
 
 Aid my voice to plead thy cause, 
 She may tell how they condemn'd thee, 
 
 By the help of Satan's laws ; 
 For no laws that speak such cru'lty 
 
 Were design'd by mighty Jove, 
 Hath He not Himself proclaimed 
 
 That He is a God of love ?
 
 1«2 ELVIS OR. 
 
 " Then before the great Almighty, 
 
 I do vow thy death to show ; 
 'Fore Whose face alike the richest 
 
 And the poorest pleading bow. 
 Tis not from tribunal mortal 
 
 That their sentence shall be giv'n, 
 But from one whence no appeal is, 
 
 From the highest Court of Heav'n. 
 
 " And may God from Heaven ban me, 
 And may God for ever damn me 
 If I do not keep my vow. 
 
 " Thou soul confin'd in Hell's deep darkness, 
 
 Of w T hate'er thy pain may be, 
 Be it a solitude that lasteth 
 
 Throughout all eternity :
 
 ELV/X')/;. 188 
 
 Be it a fiery guilty conscience, 
 
 Or a light that clear as day, 
 Shows thee the brightness of that Heaven 
 
 From which thou hast pass'd away : 
 Amid the loneness of thine anguish 
 
 He remembers thou art there ; 
 And He doth measure in His mercy, 
 
 Strength and depth of thy despair. 
 But did He will He should forget thee, 
 
 Then art thou for ever damn'd ; 
 And then o'er thee hath Satan's legions 
 
 Pow'r unbrook'd, and pow'r untam'd ; 
 Did He forget thee, then the measure 
 
 Of thy pain would never stay ; 
 In that thy deep despairing hour, 
 
 Thou in vain would'st strive to pray ; 
 Thou forgotten, who then should hear thee ? 
 
 Forgotten Heav'n's strongest blow, 
 But even thus may God forget me, 
 
 If I do not keep my vow."
 
 184 EL VIXOR. 
 
 He ceas'd, and as his voice was stay'd, 
 
 From out the clouds on high 
 There came a tongue of molten fire 
 
 That clove the hlacken'd sky ; 
 The space around was lighted up 
 
 With light'ning's lurid glare, 
 Whose brilliance in that moment brief 
 
 Did fire the mountain air. 
 Suddenly it smote asunder 
 
 An oak of giant spread, 
 Dividing scorch'd its mighty trunk, 
 
 And left it bare and dead. 
 Not alone the tree it blacken'd, 
 
 For Leonard, standing there, 
 One moment thought how Heav'n's mercy 
 
 Might finish earth's despair. 
 One moment, — and like falling star 
 
 It lighted on his breast ;
 
 ELVINOR. 1S5 
 
 He fell amid electric fire, 
 
 In all his armour dress'd. 
 And where he fell unconsciously, 
 
 Nigh death his form did lie, 
 Nor heeded more the elements 
 
 That warr'd amid the sky. 
 Untended there by human hand, 
 
 Sir Leonard silent lay, 
 Until the mutt'ring storm at length 
 
 In distance died away. 
 
 Ere death, his soul awoke once more ; 
 
 As in a waking dream 
 The form of Elvinor came back — 
 
 Came flowing back to him. , 
 Fair Fancy drew her face again 
 
 Before his fading sight, 
 He thought she stood beside him there 
 
 In robes of woven light.
 
 186 EL\1X<)H. 
 
 Within her hand a Book she held, 
 
 Across whose page there fell 
 A light, which round a single Name 
 
 In mystery did dwell. 
 Beneath was written, 
 
 " This to man 
 
 As watchword has heen giv'n ; 
 And he who can forget its sound, 
 
 No passport has to Heav'n." 
 
 As Leonard read once more there came 
 
 The shadow of the night. 
 The Name, the Book, and Elvinor 
 
 "Were vanish' d from his sight. 
 'Twas then the voice of Faith awoke 
 
 A hope within his breast, 
 And thus he spake ere sank his frame 
 
 For ever into rest :
 
 EL VINOR. 187 
 
 " My soul, why dost thou tremble now 
 
 Within thy mortal frame ? 
 Fearest thou to soar through space, 
 
 Wherein lies freedom's name ? 
 Fearest thou to leave this earth, 
 
 Where first thy birth was giv'n ? 
 Fearest thou to see thy God, 
 
 And tread the courts of Heav'n ? 
 The Hand that made thee hath redeem'd, 
 
 And, when thy prison dies, 
 His word can find a place for thee 
 
 In realms of Paradise. 
 
 "And His protecting Hand can keep 
 
 That Being, whose brightest love 
 Will wait for thee while thou dost search 
 
 Among the stars above.
 
 188 ELVINOE. 
 
 " Oh, bright immortal Elvinor ! 
 
 My spirit, unconfin'd, 
 Through space shall fly to seek thee, with 
 
 Eternity to find." 
 
 -^*»*2r 5 *£l6Si=4fcJ>'S--
 
 ELVINOE. 189 
 
 Within a dark and stifling cell 
 
 Five forms there were array 'd 
 In muffled robes, which nought beside 
 
 Their features stern display'd. 
 Foul instruments of cruelty 
 
 Array 'd around the room 
 Hung side by side, each curious shape, 
 
 Half hidden by the gloom, 
 Appear'd more horrible than 'twas ; 
 
 While on the stone-pav'd floor 
 An engine stood, whose shape was by 
 
 A dark cloth cover'd o'er. 
 In one far corner stood a wheel, 
 
 The which but half reveal' d, 
 Spoke dismally of horrors that 
 
 Were from the mind conceal'd. 
 A table on which parchments lay 
 
 Did in the centre stand,
 
 190 EL VIXOR. 
 
 The Abbot at one end did sit, 
 Two monks at either hand. 
 
 In front of them, and face to face, 
 
 Her fair wrists chafing sore 
 'Neath iron bands that link'd them, stood 
 
 The form of Elvinor, 
 Array'd in stout and heavy robes, 
 
 Which coarsely woven were ; 
 A chain link'd either hand as she 
 
 Stood 'fore her judges there ; 
 A girdle bound that slender waist, — 
 
 The feet upon the stone 
 Unshodden stood, while o'er her face 
 
 The lamp its pale light shone, 
 Revealing each sad feature pale, 
 
 Yet still surpassing fair, 
 Round which in golden sunshine fell 
 
 Her bright and auburn hair.
 
 ELVINOR. 191 
 
 The sentence waiting still she stay'd ; 
 
 Her answer had been giv'n, 
 In voice that sounded weak on earth, 
 
 But harmony in Heav'n. 
 Around that picture Silence did 
 
 Her deepest influence spread, 
 The Abbot then arose and straight 
 
 The condemnation read : 
 
 " Tho' thou as yet art young in years, 
 
 Yet, Elvinor, hast dar'd 
 To side with this curs'd heresy ; 
 
 Yet still the Church had spar'd, 
 Perchance, thy life, or else had giv'n 
 
 A peaceful death to thee, 
 If thou hadst but at her command 
 
 Recanted heresy. 
 But since our arguments are vain, 
 
 And thou perversely still
 
 19'2 EL VINOR. 
 
 Dost cling unto a doctrine that 
 Against the Church breeds ill, 
 
 Justice, in aid of Truth's fair cause, 
 Doth now thy death demand, 
 
 And we, her favour'd instruments, 
 Obey but her command. 
 
 " Though thou art now condemn'd to die, 
 
 So great is yet the love 
 Of Rome, to thee her erring child, 
 
 Thine innocence to prove 
 One chance she gives : if guiltless thou 
 
 'Fore God shouldst e'en be found, 
 Then shall thy chains be smitten off, 
 
 Thy bonds shall be unbound. 
 
 " "Within a cell shalt thou remain 
 Until a week has sped ;
 
 EL VINOR. 193 
 
 No food shall pass thy mortal lips 
 
 Until that time has fled. 
 If life within thee then remains, 
 
 "With righteous joy shall we 
 Absolve thee from all sinfulness, 
 
 And from all heresy ; 
 But if unto the pow'r of death 
 
 God's Hand doth give thee o'er, 
 And thou dost sleep the lasting sleep 
 
 That wakes on earth no more, 
 Then is thy soul accurs'd of man, 
 
 Accurs'd of God Divine ; 
 And after death, worse pains than those 
 
 Of earth shall then be thine. 
 For the body's burning wasting 
 
 In death may find relief ; 
 But through a long eternity, 
 
 Doth a remorseful grief 
 Unto each damned spirit cling, 
 
 As happiness they see
 
 194 ELVINOR. 
 
 In Ilcav'n, which never can be their's 
 Throughout eternity. 
 
 " If death doth claim thee, Elvinor, 
 
 As Satan's thou art seal'd ; 
 The horrors of the second death 
 
 To thee shall be reveal'd, 
 For thy departing spirit's sigh 
 
 Shall be the summ'ning knell, 
 From thy last earthly pain unto 
 
 The liquid fires of Hell." 
 
 In silence still stay'd Elvinor, 
 Condemn'd, so young, so fair ! 
 
 In the bloom of youth's bright beauty 
 She stood before them there. 
 
 The sickly lamp shone out its light, 
 And on each feature play'd,
 
 ELVINOR. 195 
 
 But no relenting mercy kind 
 Within one face display'd ; 
 
 Each heart was cold, fair Pity's voice 
 No echoing chord could find, 
 
 And, like an arrow spent, retum'd 
 The music of her mind. 
 
 And this was Justice, this was Truth ! 
 
 Oh, who in this bleak world 
 Believes at heart fair Justice hath 
 
 Her banner yet unfurl'd ! 
 Believes, when watching he can see 
 
 Men siding e'er with might ; 
 E'er striving to extinguish Truth, 
 
 Where she may shed her light. 
 They brand her yet as libel foul, 
 
 In this our modern age ; 
 She must not speak, or if she doth, 
 
 Must single-handed wage
 
 190 ELVINOR. 
 
 A war 'gainst laws, which have been made 
 
 To bridle her fair tongue, 
 And force mankind, when deeply wrong'd, 
 
 To silent keep the wrong : 
 Or else indeed, to spend his coin 
 
 In buying, clause by clause, 
 So call'd justice, from those who are 
 
 Read deeply in the laws. 
 And when he well-nigh ruined is, 
 
 Or else is ruined quite, 
 So twisted is his case that he 
 
 Finds out a wrong is right : 
 A thing that Common Sense denies : 
 
 But Common Sense her cause 
 Once tried in court, and lost it, 'mid 
 
 A labyrinth of laws. 
 
 man, hope not for Justice here, 
 Her home is not on earth ;
 
 ELVINOR. 197 
 
 Nor seek for Truth, they jewels are 
 
 Of far too bright a worth 
 To dwell where things are bought and sold, 
 
 Whatever they may be, 
 Wife, child and honour, name or fame, 
 
 Or friend's fidelity. 
 
 Say when a girl is wedded to 
 
 A man who rich may be, 
 Whose age amounts to what her own 
 
 Is multiplied by three ; 
 Was it for gold she married him ? 
 
 Or was her motive love ? 
 Truth perchance might answer " Gold," 
 
 But Truth might libel prove. 
 
 A man adopts another's child, 
 And gives him wealth untold,
 
 198 ELVINOR. 
 
 That child may love him, but his love 
 Perchance is bought with gold. 
 
 Let man ask honour, name, or fame, 
 
 A faithful friend and true, 
 They all will come at Gold's command, 
 
 As moths a light unto. 
 
 Aye, Gold, thou art the monarch now 
 
 Of this our sin-stain'd earth, 
 All things are measur'd by thy span, 
 
 And valu'd by thy worth. 
 But when thou wast created king, 
 
 Fair Truth and Justice tbey 
 "Were swept, with Heaven's brightest gifts, 
 
 From our sad earth away.
 
 EL VINOR. 199 
 
 Short was the time that Elvinor 
 
 Did stand amid the gloom, 
 Which hung about the dampen'd air 
 
 Within the torture room ; 
 From out that place the jailor did 
 
 Before her lead the way, 
 As through a dark stone archway low 
 
 The narrow passage lay. 
 But he dar'd not look upon her, 
 
 Nor dar'd he raise his head, 
 For never he so young a form 
 
 Unto its death had led. 
 As they trod along the passage, 
 
 Each step afresh awoke 
 An echo that had slumb'er'd long 
 
 Now through the silence broke.
 
 200 ELVINOR. 
 
 They pass'd by iron grated doors, 
 
 And dismal vaults of stone, 
 Whose depths among, now and anon, 
 
 Was heard the soughing moan 
 Of winds, that sought but could not find 
 
 Escapement from that place : 
 And from the coffins of the dead, 
 
 In sport the dust did chase. 
 
 At length the jailor halted by 
 
 A door, whose surface spoke 
 Of lengthen'd age ; its frame was made 
 
 Out planks of darkest oak. 
 A leathern girdle, wide and strong, 
 
 The jailor wore, and he 
 Did choose from this a curious shap'd 
 
 And long unused key. 
 The strong door open wide he thrust, 
 
 Then sadly on one side
 
 ELVINOR. 201 
 
 He stood, while slowly Elvinor 
 
 Did 'tween the portals glide. 
 The jailor turn'd to close it then, 
 
 But tears were on his face, 
 And words arose he dar'd not speak 
 
 In that accursed place, 
 Lest prying monk should hear the sound, 
 
 Accused then might he 
 Himself 'fore a tribunal stand, 
 
 For pity'ng heresy. 
 
 As silently he left her there, 
 
 The pond'rous door he sway'd 
 Upon its rusty hinges round, 
 
 The chains and bolts fast made. 
 In that dark cell stood Elvinor, 
 
 Amid surrounding gloom, 
 While told the rattling chains without, 
 
 The sealing of her doom.
 
 202 ELVINOR. 
 
 Condemri'd to die when life contain'd 
 
 The health of youthful blood ; 
 Uncar'd for, and unsympathis'd, 
 
 Alone she silent stood. 
 As Nature did around her form 
 
 A slow sure access gain, 
 A dizziness did float across 
 
 The overtaxed brain. 
 
 An alabaster whiteness came 
 
 Athwart that face so pale, 
 Aoid threw each feature sad around 
 
 As 'twere a snow-white veil. 
 The blood that tinted once the cheek, 
 
 Grew still and icy cold. 
 As some fair marble sculpture white, 
 
 Of beauteous Grecian mould
 
 ELV1N0R. 203 
 
 A moment stood, and gaz'd around 
 Where black'ning gloom was spread, 
 
 Then on the stony pavement fell, 
 As silent as the dead. 
 
 Stealing through the window grating 
 
 Which lit that narrow cell, 
 The borrow'd light of hidden Sun 
 
 In softly measure fell. 
 That still and fallen figure round, 
 
 The Moon her soft light spread ; 
 And on the dark stone prison wall 
 
 Her gentle light she shed. 
 Her beam reveal' d the glory bright 
 
 Of each long auburn tress, 
 Which fell athwart that pale wan face 
 
 In fairest loveliness. 
 Unfelt she touch'd the hand that lay 
 
 The cold hard stone upon ;
 
 204 ELVINOR. 
 
 Her light did rest upon that breast 
 Whence nigh the breath was gone ; 
 
 Around those limbs that passive lay- 
 She wove a fairy wreath, 
 
 And tinted the unshodden foot 
 Which peep'd the robes beneath. 
 
 Unfelt was her caress that stole 
 
 That silent figure o'er ; 
 Nor wakened, for deep the spell 
 
 That fell on Elvinor ; 
 Semblance of sleep, unconsciousness, 
 
 But not the calm repose 
 That to mortals from fair Nature 
 
 In kindly measure flows. 
 Unconsciousness, w T hich doth subdue 
 
 Awhile all mental pain ; 
 That o'ertax'd nature doth allow, 
 
 To save the reeling brain.
 
 ELVINOR. 205 
 
 No other eye was there to see, 
 
 No other hand to aid, 
 Except the Eye and Hand of Him, 
 
 By "Whom that form was made ; 
 No voice but that which Nature bade 
 
 Her form unconscious keep, 
 In th' valley of Forgetfulness 
 
 Among the vales of Sleep. 
 
 Oh Woman ! why around thy name, 
 
 In gentle measures rise, 
 Fair Fancy's brightest gifts, which she 
 
 To other name denies ? 
 Say, why doth Pity take thy shape ? 
 
 "Why Grace thy form doth wear ? 
 And Beauty choosing thy fair face, 
 
 Hath laid her treasures there ?
 
 206 ELVIXOR. 
 
 Why is the form of Justice too 
 
 Within thy garb array'd ? 
 Why in her majesty is she 
 
 Unto thy likeness made ? 
 Imagination great and high, 
 
 Memory's beauteous face, 
 With Reason, Knowledge, Wisdom, too, 
 
 All thy fair fashion trace. 
 
 Aye, Woman, these fair gifts were thine, 
 
 Ere thou eternity 
 By sin untied, thus making man 
 
 A thing of time to be. 
 Yet still they cling unto thy shape, 
 
 Bound by Memory's hand, 
 As first she saw thy form descend 
 
 To Eden's garden land.
 
 ELVTNOR. 207 
 
 Aye, once thou of creation wast 
 
 The summit and the zest ; 
 The Eve of all created things 
 
 The brightest and the best ; 
 Who 'fore admiring angel's eyes 
 
 In Eden's garden trod, 
 The equal and companion too, 
 
 To man from Heaven's God ; 
 Where Adam finding, saw thee gaze, 
 
 With sweet majestic grace, 
 Into the crystal water that 
 
 Reflected thee thy face ; 
 And watching while he thought thee then 
 
 A being from Heav'n above, 
 That came 'mid Eden's flow'rs to teaeh 
 
 Man the power of love. 
 For of all the grand creation 
 
 That rose at God's command, 
 Thou wert the fairest being that left 
 
 That all-creating Hand.
 
 20H ELVINOR. 
 
 Oh ! who in these our modern davs 
 
 Of hard-won liberty, 
 Can picture slow starvation as 
 
 A stern reality ; 
 "Wherein the mind desponding, doth 
 
 Count ev'ry link of time, 
 That forms the items of that chain 
 
 "Which joins each hour's chime. 
 And as each separate moment, 
 
 "Within one day's long train, 
 Doth unrelaxingly demand 
 
 Its full amount of pain ; 
 And with the lengthen'd wasting of 
 
 The fading mortal clay, 
 The mind itself diseas'd becomes, 
 
 And threatens Reason's sway.
 
 ELVIS OR. 209 
 
 'Tis then at Satan's bidding comes 
 
 Temptation's form, array'd 
 In garb we love, the which when he 
 
 Hath 'fore our eyes display'd, 
 Doth stand beside our wav'ring mind, 
 
 With searching eyes to read 
 That which we long, yet dare not do, 
 
 And at our sorest need 
 He proves man's destiny is sin, 
 
 And in our weakest hour 
 Doth find excuse for that we wish, 
 
 With deep discerning pow'r. 
 
 Two dnys had risen, and had wan'd, 
 The darkness spread its gloom 
 
 Once more across the grating of 
 That silent prison room, 
 
 Colouring with its influence 
 Of deep and darkly shade,
 
 210 ELVINOR. 
 
 The shadow of Temptation, who 
 
 By Elvinor now stay'd ; 
 And 'fore her rais'd this picture, as 
 
 In deep exhaustion she 
 Fell back, and wrapt her spirit in 
 
 A dreamy reverie. 
 
 At Nature's bidding pain had ceas'd, 
 
 And from her form had flown, 
 When 'neath her feet receding seem'd 
 
 To fall that floor of stone. 
 Before the eyes of Elvinor, 
 
 In silence was unfurl'd 
 Upon one plain the likeness of 
 
 The kingdoms of the world. 
 
 Through ev'ry land a river of 
 Unfathomable sin,
 
 ELVINOR. 211 
 
 Unto one mighty ocean flow'd, 
 And there each emptied in 
 
 Its measure of corrupting guilt 
 Which, since the world began, 
 
 With its larger force hath blacken'd, 
 The better deeds of man. 
 
 'Twas thus Temptation whisp'ring said 
 
 " Can unto man be giv'n, 
 In face of this deep sea of sin 
 
 The promis'd peace of Heav'n ? 
 Stay thou and I will show to thee 
 
 The only bright'mng well ; 
 Let Reason's voice then answer thee, 
 
 If it suffice to quell 
 Yon damning evidence of ill, 
 
 To cleanse and make once more, 
 Those waters like the waves that wash 
 
 On Heaven's distant shore."
 
 212 ELY IX OIL 
 
 Across this picture then ho drew 
 
 A deep and darkly shade ; 
 While from the eyes of Elvinor 
 
 Its dismal form did fade. 
 And, lo ! another fancy then 
 
 Appeared in its stead, 
 Before her eyes the scenery 
 
 Of Calvary was spread. 
 
 A scene that show'd the death of God, 
 
 A mighty mystery, 
 That link'd the dust of mortal earth 
 
 To immortality. 
 
 a/ 
 
 Faith, Hope, and Love were cluster'd round, 
 
 But strong Temptation sway'd 
 A darkness round each Heav'n-horn face, 
 
 So that their forms did fade,
 
 ELVINOR. 213 
 
 Far from the gaze of Elvinor 
 
 Into the gloom away ; 
 And, lo ! the picture but display'd 
 
 A God in mortal clay. 
 
 " Shall this suffice," the Tempter said, 
 
 " To wash a world of sin ? 
 By one Man's death, to Heaven's courts 
 
 Shall millions enter in ? 
 
 " 'Tis but a wild invented tale, 
 
 To give poor mortals peace ; 
 A tale invented, that it might 
 
 Give human mind release 
 From thoughts that dwell in future's coil, 
 
 Where man may spend his breath 
 In vain, to find the great Beyond. 
 
 Man's life shall end in death.
 
 Since bis ambition told bim be 
 
 "Was an immortal soul, 
 Nature gave birtb to master minds, 
 
 That tbey migbt men console 
 With theories of a God Whose Hand 
 
 A\ r ould guide their feet to Heav'n : 
 With theories of a God by Whom 
 
 Foul sin could be forgiv'n. 
 
 " Thus Nature 'twas gave birtb to Christ, 
 
 And threw around Him fame ; 
 So that great nations bow before 
 
 The mention of His Name. 
 And thougb of all men earth bath seen 
 
 The greatest, grandest, He 
 Is, was, and shall be, yet He is 
 
 Naught but mortality. 
 What fool would think the only Son 
 
 Of great Almighty Jove,
 
 ELV1X0R. -m 
 
 Would die for man ? He Whose command, 
 Unnumber'd planets move." 
 
 With loud and mocking laughter then 
 
 Temptation left his sway, 
 And from the eyes of Elvinor 
 
 The picture fell away. 
 
 ,^£>^»9 J ,Cs-
 
 216 ELV1N0R. 
 
 Satan, consummate master of 
 
 Poor human nature's ways, 
 Know- well how he our faith may thwart, 
 
 And how our minds may daze. 
 He talks of Reason, and doth sway 
 
 Our reason to his will ; 
 He talks of Hope, and gives us hope 
 
 That he will ne'er fulfil. 
 To human calculation he 
 
 Can ever bend his mind : 
 Problems of infidelity 
 
 Were first by him design'd. 
 He taketh men as men are found, 
 
 And lays their eyes before 
 The sin they love, and throweth then 
 
 Excuse's mantle o'er ; 
 Until by many slow degrees 
 
 Excuse is banish'd quite,
 
 ELVIN01L 217 
 
 And in companionship of wrong, 
 Man doth detest the right. 
 
 As Elvinor awoke, her mind 
 
 "Was weak with mortal pain, 
 It scem'd that all her suffering, 
 
 And all her hopes were vain. 
 As 'neath the shade of that dark vale, 
 
 Which life and death doth hind, 
 Her spirit walk'd, around lurk'd Doubt 
 
 Beside, before, behind. 
 'Twas then her soul imploring pray'd 
 
 The prayer of Calvary : 
 "Oh, Thou art in Thy kingdom now, 
 
 Wilt Thou remember me!" 
 And there came, as if in answer, 
 
 Once more exhaustion deep ; 
 And Elvinor this vision saw, 
 
 Within the realms of Sleep :
 
 218 elvisoi;. 
 
 Imagination's stately form 
 
 Stood in that prison place, 
 With gentle tenderness she stoop'd 
 
 And kiss'd that sleeping face. 
 While by her side fair Nature stay'd, 
 
 And drew her kindly hand 
 Along that form, whence Pain arose, 
 
 And left at her command. 
 Imagination then her tale 
 
 In clearest whispers told, 
 While Fancy's fingers slowly did 
 
 The scenery unfold. 
 
 'Twas in her vision she awoke, 
 And earth's pain felt no more ; 
 
 In wonder and amazement gaz'd 
 The eyes of Elvinor, 
 
 As fell their sight upon a form 
 In robes of shining light,
 
 ELVIS OR. 819 
 
 Subdued, that it might harmonise 
 
 Unto her mortal sight. 
 A trembling fear came o'er her frame, 
 
 The angel saw, and he, 
 In gentle accents said to her, 
 
 " Arise, and come with me." 
 
 Before that angel's will did seem 
 
 To totter, and to fall, 
 The strong grey stones of which was built 
 
 That convent prison wall. 
 And then his silver wings began 
 
 The aerial path to tread, 
 While 'neath their feet earth's beauty fair 
 
 "Was picturesquely spread. 
 
 On, swiftly on through space they cours'd, 
 With fastest speed of light,
 
 ELVINOR. 
 
 Beyond the range of earthly sphere, 
 
 Beyond the range of night, 
 To where in the deep grandeur of 
 
 Immeasurable size, 
 Great space majestic'ly surrounds 
 
 The wonders of the skies. 
 While smaller yet, and smaller still, 
 
 The earthly planet grew, 
 Till but a beauteous ball it seem'd, 
 
 Enwrapt in distance blue. 
 And when at last their winged course 
 
 They first began to stay, 
 Fair Earth among the brilliant stars 
 
 In distance fell away. 
 
 Above, below, on either hand, 
 On each, and ev'ry side, 
 
 Did stretch unending starry space 
 That piercing sight defied.
 
 ELVINOR. 221 
 
 And all around was majesty, 
 
 Grand, beautiful, and bright, 
 For space itself was tinted with 
 
 A strange conflicting light, 
 As many a far distant sun 
 
 His brilliant sunbeams threw, 
 Which, meeting light from other suns, 
 
 In bright and changing hue 
 Broke out to life, mid distant ^pace, 
 
 Where no deep shadow fell 
 Across their light and fairy forms, 
 
 To silence and dispel. 
 
 While standing there with Elvinor, 
 
 The angel's voice alone 
 Broke out in sweetest melody 
 
 In ever-vary'ng tone, 
 A voice to whose rich fulness was 
 
 No earthly echo giv'n,
 
 222 ELV1N0R. 
 
 A voice that had been tun'd among 
 The music chords of Heav'n : 
 
 " Far, far below, beneath our feet, 
 
 In yonder distant sky, 
 That body bright men call the sun 
 
 Doth situated lie. 
 Yon stream of light, that from his face 
 
 Dies into space away, 
 Gives light to all the satellites 
 
 O'er whom he holdeth sway. 
 Among whom Earth, with measur'd pace, 
 
 Her yearly course doth run, 
 Attracted by the greater star, 
 
 By yonder shining sun ; 
 Who in his turn, with all his train, 
 
 A cycling orbit flies 
 Round a greater and a nobler 
 
 Attraction of the skies.
 
 ELVIXOR. 223 
 
 That greater sun himself is bound 
 
 By greater Sun again, 
 "Which forces him to move through space 
 
 "With all his lesser train. 
 
 " "While each sun an attraction doth 
 
 Than himself greater find, 
 "Which him, with all his lesser suns, 
 
 "With one great law doth bind ; 
 That power which is most potent 
 
 Of all the wondrous laws 
 Created by the Master Mind, 
 
 The first and only Cause, 
 By which all heav'nly bodies are 
 
 Along their pathway sway'd, 
 Whose strength since it created was 
 
 Hath never yet been stay'd :
 
 ELV/.X''/,: 
 
 " Yet Reason says, ' One Centre great, 
 Round which Creation turns, 
 
 There needs must be, aud he who asks 
 Of her this answer learns: — 
 
 " ' One Centre, by whose influence 
 
 The limitless is bound, 
 And "Whose power extending doth 
 
 Great space itself surround, 
 There is, — without Whom cv'ry star 
 
 Would lose its cycling way, 
 And through unending space be lost, 
 
 For all eternal day. 
 Without Whom, in one mighty war 
 
 All planets would arise ; 
 And in one great clash expiring, 
 
 With fragments strew the skies. '
 
 ELVINOR. 225 
 
 " That Centre great is He, around 
 
 Whom space itself revolves, 
 With each created body that 
 
 Within itself involves ; 
 Around Whom, since created 'twas, 
 
 Each star its course hath trod, 
 Is the First and Everlasting, 
 
 The great Eternal God. 
 
 " Because thy weak mortality 
 Perplexed was with pain, 
 
 Can Satan's tempting voice so force 
 His thoughts into thy brain, 
 
 That one suggestion which he brings 
 
 And lays before thy mind, 
 Shall e'en suffice thy life's belief, 
 To shatter and unbind ? 
 
 Q
 
 226 ELVINOR. 
 
 " Shall not the blood of that great I [eir 
 
 To all these realms of space, 
 Suffice the stains of yon far speck 
 
 To cover and efface ? 
 Shall not the life suffice for man, 
 
 That matchless and alone 
 Doth nation's bright example stand, 
 
 "While age o'er age goes on ? 
 His life, the grandest study that 
 
 The mind of man can win : 
 The great Creator living where 
 
 Around Him all was sin ! 
 Rebellion, and all wickedness, 
 
 Before His presence trod ; 
 The finite, and the Infinite, 
 
 The creature, and the God. 
 
 " Though man was blind to ev'ry proof, 
 From yonder Earth afar
 
 ELVINOR -2-27 
 
 The host of Heav'n each movement watch'd, 
 
 From each surrounding star. 
 And as pain fell across His path, 
 
 The heav'nly music stay'd, 
 While angel eyes look'd down on earth, 
 
 In Sorrow's garb array'd ; 
 And round His path they lingered 
 
 Until the day He died; 
 When hush'd became each voice in Heav'n 
 
 From distant side to side ; 
 For silence o'erspread Heav'n's wide space, 
 
 When from the fatal tree, 
 As Mortal render' d up His life 
 
 For all Humanity. 
 And ere from the earthly body 
 
 Th' Incarnate Spirit fled, 
 A mourning o'er each angel's face 
 
 Its deeply gloom did spread ; 
 And the shadow of that darkness, 
 
 Upon Earth's surface fell
 
 228 ELVINo/i. 
 
 For three long hours, the which till then 
 The sun could nut dispel. 
 
 "But when the brightening grandeur 
 
 Of that first Easter morn, 
 Portray'd its silvery shimmer, 
 
 And day began to dawn ; 
 Every voice in music broke, 
 
 ' The Son of God hath ris'n,' 
 In one harmonious chorus swept, 
 
 Along the vales of Ileav'n." 
 
 And ceasing, then the angel stay'd, 
 The silence broke no more ; 
 
 But his face with light grew brighter, 
 Far brighter than before. 
 
 The mortal eyes of Elvinor 
 Could not withstand the light,
 
 ELVINOR. 229 
 
 From th' angel's she her hand withdrew, 
 
 To hide her aching sight ; 
 "Without that aid she could not stand, 
 
 But fell towards earth away, 
 In falling woke, and morning broke 
 
 Into the dawn of day. 
 
 ^0*7X3^3^^
 
 230 l.IMXOR. 
 
 Death has many a harvest time, 
 
 An often-changing lay ; 
 As keeping pace with Father Time, 
 
 He marches on his way. 
 To some his voice doth gentle teem, 
 
 E'eD loving, soft, and kind ; 
 While his stem fingers carefully 
 
 Do seem but to unbind 
 The tie that links the spirit to 
 
 The feeble mortal clay, 
 Which dying haves the soul releas'd 
 
 For all eternal day. 
 Unloosed by the hand of Death, 
 
 To wing its course so free ; 
 To find among the distant stars 
 
 Eternal liberty.
 
 ELVINOR. 231 
 
 To others seems his deathly form 
 
 For ever dark and stem, 
 In whose grim face their mortal fear 
 
 No pity can discern, 
 As silently beside them he 
 
 Doth stand amid the gloom, 
 And seeming but the jailor of 
 
 The graveyard and the tomb. 
 Again like swooping eagle he 
 
 O'crtakes his shrinking prey, 
 Without a warning note to end 
 
 Their earthly mortal stay. 
 To some the termination is, 
 
 That ends a life of crime ; 
 To 'tone for in eternity 
 
 What they have done in time. 
 While to some he bringeth labour, 
 
 To some he bringeth rest, 
 And brings the only healing balm 
 
 To sorrow'ng and distress'd.
 
 232 ELV1X0R. 
 
 Some strive in deep forgetfulness 
 
 The sight of Death to lose, 
 While they the gloomy shadow leave, 
 
 The merry sunshine choose. 
 Still there are those who yet will wait, 
 
 Close by the shadow stay, 
 Where lies a form beneath the ground, 
 
 Whose spirit is away. 
 
 To such, the voice of Death may speak 
 
 In soft and kindly tone, 
 When standing by the grave of one 
 
 Whose spirit long has flown ; 
 When fancies dead arise again, 
 
 And bring a meaning new, 
 'Tis oft the voice of Death that speaks, 
 
 Though hidden from the view.
 
 ELVINOR. -:;.; 
 
 Perchance fair Mem'ry tellcth, of 
 
 Aid ov'ning calm and still ; 
 "When the summer breeze came floating 
 
 Across the window sill. 
 
 Seat ed beside the last sad couch, 
 
 The fever'd hand in thine ; 
 '31 id anxious silence waiting thus, 
 
 Last wishes to divine. 
 "While all about the room were strewn 
 
 The flow'rs which Nature gives, 
 To cheer the spirit that among 
 
 The body's sickness lives : 
 To cheer and to brighten, they 
 
 "Were laid around the bed ; 
 While each, as if in sympathy, 
 
 Did droop its with'ring head.
 
 234 ELVINOR. 
 
 When the voice that could not answer 
 
 In common mortal sound, 
 Turn'd to the flowers to aid it, 
 
 And in their silence found 
 A voice. One tiny flower 'twas, 
 
 That speaking silently, 
 The dying wish unfolding, did 
 
 Relate it thus to thee : 
 
 "Sometimes remember when the world 
 
 Doth leave thy thoughts awhile, 
 That I on earth have liv'd with thee ; 
 
 And let thy mem'ry smile 
 On days that ne'er shall be again. 
 
 If thou wilt think of me, 
 Then I content shall sink to rest, 
 
 And to eternity."
 
 ELVINOli. 235 
 
 These were the last, the parting words, 
 
 That flower did convey ; 
 "When the parch'd tongue, and dying lips, 
 
 No mortal word could say ; 
 When with love's last sad parting look, 
 
 The hand, so fever'd hot, 
 Press'd into thine, with feeble strength, 
 
 A dead Forget-me-not. 
 A tearful prayer, that asked thee, 
 
 When death your lives should sev'r, 
 To link with mem'ry's graceful bridge, 
 
 Both sides of his dark riv'r ; 
 In th' hour of night, upon that bridge, 
 
 The shining stars above, 
 To let thy mem'ry woo again, 
 
 The spirit of thy love. 
 
 'Twas early dawn of summer morn 
 That smil'd on Elvinor,
 
 836 ELVINOR. 
 
 "When from her vision she awoke 
 
 To earthly life once more. 
 "Woke, but every strengthening hue 
 
 Had left that fair voung life : 
 Flown the flower of girlhood's bloom, 
 
 Before consuming strife 
 Of stern starvation, slow and sure, 
 
 Her hands so pale and thin, 
 That early light of morning bright 
 
 Shone through the burning skin. 
 
 That form so weak, no longer could 
 
 The will's command obey ; 
 Yet long'd to see the smiling earth, 
 
 Ere she should pass away : 
 And wish'd for some kind human face 
 
 To stand beside her bed : 
 For water cool, to sprinkle o'er 
 
 The burning aching head.
 
 ELVINOR. 237 
 
 No step there came, no voice was heard, 
 
 Imagination gave 
 Silence horrors, as Mem'ry told 
 
 Of many a hidden grave 
 That lay around the gloomy cell, 
 
 Which scarce a week before, 
 In youth and health she passed by, 
 
 As to the oaken door 
 Of that dim cell, the jailor led 
 
 The deep entwined way ; 
 Then little heeded, but they now 
 
 Would in remembrance stay. 
 
 All through that long, hot summer day, 
 
 The dying girl did lie ; 
 Now in unconsciousness enwrapt, 
 
 Anon with waking sigh,
 
 288 ELVINOR. 
 
 To wonder why Death would not come, 
 
 And give her soul release : 
 To pray that, if it were His "Will, 
 
 Her earthly life might cease. 
 
 'Twas thus the weary minutes pass'd, 
 
 And day was on the wane, 
 When Nature brought unconsciousness 
 
 Unto her mind again. 
 Unconsciousness, serenely still, 
 
 So quiit, and so deep ; 
 An emblem of the deathlike trance, 
 
 The never-waking sleep. 
 
 The sultry summer day gave birth 
 
 Unto a stormy night ; 
 And oft the gather'd darkness burst 
 
 Into an angry light.
 
 ELVINOR. 239 
 
 Like broken and misshapen rocks 
 
 The clouds went floating by, 
 And swept their sullen drapery 
 
 Athwart the gloomy sky. 
 The angry thunder's muffled sound, 
 
 The distant rushing roar 
 Of torrents, told too plainly of 
 
 The advent tempest war. 
 
 The thunderstorm may purge the air, 
 
 And shake the mountains high ; 
 The light'ning burst its lurid glare, 
 
 And fire the blacken'd sky. 
 The rain may swell the torrent, that 
 
 Doth dash its angry foam 
 Around the fisher's lonely hut, 
 
 Or hermit's dismal home. 
 The things of earth may wend their course, 
 
 Their sound shall nevermore,
 
 340 i: I. UXOR. 
 
 Awaken from unconsciousness 
 The mind of Elvinor. 
 
 For, lo, a brilliant burst of light 
 
 I)id lire the space around; 
 A -ili nee and a stillness came, 
 
 That hushM each living sound, 
 As by the dark'ning hand of Death 
 
 That link of life was riv'n, 
 There swept across the angry sky 
 
 Th' artillery of HeaVn. 
 
 London : William Poole, 12a, Paterxostbr Row.
 
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