LIBRARY CAilPORNiA SAN 3oT=t "SHE TOLD HEK INCANTATIONS THERE." [Frontispiece.] ONTI OKA. A METRICAL ROMANCE. BY M. B. M. TOLAND, AUTHOR OF "SIR RAE," " IRIS," ETC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM DESIGNS BY W. L. SHEPARD. PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1881. Copyright, 1880, by M. B. M. TOLAND. TO THE MEMORY OF MY LATE HUSBAND, HUGH HUGER TOLAND, M.D., AT WHOSE SUGGESTION IT WAS BEGUN, BY WHOSE SIDE IT WAS MOSTLY WRITTEN, AND WHOSE APPROVAL HAS FURNISHED THE STRONGEST INDUCEMENT FOR ITS COMPLETION, THIS POEM 18 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE 1. "She told her incantations there" .... Fi-oi>ti*piece. 2. " On Adirondacks' Highlands gray" 15 3. " His jealous anger's flashing light" 19 4. " From primrose cups and daisies pale" . . . . .29 5. "Her cousin John appeared the boldest cliff upon" . . 45 6. " In slumber soft reposed the queen" ..... 57 7. " She could not move, closed were her eyes" .... 61 8. " Her kerchief o'er the wound she pressed" .... 69 9. " Lay Edith within her father's arms" ..... 73 10. " He read: ' Arrested De Maury on the ship Vesper' " . . 79 11. " His hands he pointing towards her raised" .... 83 12. " When Edith noticed them their joy burst forth" ... 87 13. "With one impatient hoof he cleft the mould" ... 91 14. " Edith, my darling my beloved adored!". ... 97 15. " High in my general's favor soon I stood" .... 99 16. "Oh, God, can this be mockery?" 109 17. " Edith beside her casement stood" . . . . . .113 18. "Farewell! thy horoscope is told" . . . . . 116 7 O N T I O R A. WHEN searching for this book a name, Onti Ora,* " clouds of the sky," Under my weary glances came And lent its aid to mystify. * The Indian name for the Catskill Mountains. See Lippincotis Magazine, August, 1879. O N T I O R A. CANTO FIRST. i. ON Adirondacks' Highlands gray The Hudson Eiver finds a source, And winds its wild, romantic way Through varied scenes along its course. Pictured upon its surface clear The borrowed tints of the blue sky, In mirrored landscapes all appear, From valleys fair to mountains high. 13 14 ONTI OR A. II. Where the famed Catskills on the west Are like enchanted castles seen, The river with a broader breast Flows on its lovely banks between. The old estates that fringe the shore, The mansions proud that on them stood, A look of princely grandeur wore, With cultured grounds and park and wood. in. 'Twas early June ; a shower of rain In torrents fell with plash and dash; A seething flood each window-pane, A mimic fall from every sash. Trees spread their boughs as if to fling The blinding strands of silver spray, As wild birds plume their dripping wing, And dip and skip in bathing play. ONTI OR A. 15 IV. The mountain peaks were veiled from sight By lowering clouds, that round them hung "On Adirondacks' Highlands gray." Like thunder-scabbards, black as night, From which the swords of lightning sprung. ONTI ORA. Hoarse muttered curses, low and deep, Storm demons raving in despair, And groans and sighs appeared to sweep Down from the conflict raging there. Cold grew the shadows on the hills, And fainter gleamed the light of day, Like eddies on the mountain rills, Dissolved in farewell beams away. More wildly raged the wailing blast And driving sleet like ocean foam, Over a stately mansion cast, That stood amid the deepening gloam. VI. Within a spacious library, On every side by books enframed, Their antique bindings, vellum gray, The works of classic authors famed, ONTI OR A. 17 Law, science, literature, and art, In cases carved of oaken wood, Crowding the shelves on every part, Ranged with imposing titles stood. Judge Lee Von Emich reading sat, While near him dozed his gentle dame ; Beside the hearth a Maltese cat With wonder watched the sparks inflame, The marks of her wild madcap play Madam Von Emich's knitting bore; A tangled mass of worsted lay With needles strewn upon the floor. VIII. The judge, a man of middle age, Was poring o'er some law debate; Slowly he studied every page, For it concerned affairs of state. b 18 ONTI OR A. His brow, the index of his mind, Was furrowed with deep lines of care ; His well-formed features, calm, refined, Illumed with light of genius rare. IX. Remote from them, in softened light, With half-reclining girlish grace, Stood a young maiden tall and slight, Of noble mien and winning face And mild alluring comeliness; Her warm dark waving chestnut hair In Grecian bands confined, each tress Rippled in golden halos fair. x. With saddened lustre shone her eyes, Large, dreamy, shaded deepest blue, Like veil of night on summer skies With brilliant starlight gleaming through. " HIS JEALOUS ANGER'S FLASHING LIGHT. ONTI OR A. 21 Repelled by the uncourteous mien Of one beside her, with affright She had in his dark glances seen His jealous anger's flashing light. XI. Leon de Maury was the name Of our young hero. He could trace From Norman root well known to fame His lineage high, his knightly race. His father, Judge Von Emich's friend And neighbor, socially lived near, Leon his evenings there would spend: A welcome guest, and none more dear. XII. Edith, their daughter, his first love, Betrothed were they, and not a cloud Had interposed its shade to prove That perfect bliss is not allowed, 22 ONTI OR A. Until the coming of their guest, Whose courtly grace and gallantry The bane instilled in Leon's breast, And whet the fang of jealousy. XIII. Hence came this quarrel : her reply Was blended with love-glances kind, "Leon!" she said, "the gloomy sky Or this fierce storm o'erclouds your mind. Frowning! not so would cousin John Return my greeting, rueful knight ! Fie, Leon ! Tell me, have I done Aught to provoke this sullen plight?" XIV. He answered sharply, " Since he came This Southern hero all the time You dwell upon his saintly name. John this, John that, in ceaseless chime; ONTI ORA. 23 And I am ever forced to hear A rival's deeds of valor sung By lips that once to me were dear, When love on every accent hung." xv. "Leon, beware!" she cried; "to me Your words are undeserved, unjust, Uttered in cruel mockery, There is no cause for this distrust. The rights of hospitality And kindred love, to him are due ; He is above your jealousy Nor will I suffer it from you. XVI. " Take back your ring and vows ; they prove But galling fetters to enchain A plighted troth, devoid of love ; Take them and go ! be free again." 24 ONTI OR A. She stood with feeling ill suppressed : Her wounded pride she would assuage ;- With yearning heart, and heaving breast, She tendered him love's golden gage. XVII. He waved the ring off with his hand, The precious gem fell to the floor. "Edith!" he cried, "you can't command A heart that loves to love no more." His words were spoken bitterly, "Edith, forgive, if I have erred; I will not be, I am not free; Speak! say I have not rightly heard. xvni. " Pause, Edith, ere it be too late, We are betrothed, and must not break Nor tangle thus the web of fate; From this delusion bid me wake. ONTI OR A. 25 Silent ! Oh, shame ! a coquette then, False, fickle, trifling, heartless one, To harvest thus the love of men, Your conquests have but just begun. XIX. "Edith, 'tis strange that one so fair Such false pretences e'er could nurse, For 'tis dishonor thus to snare A trusting heart. Oh, God ! the curse To waken from a blissful dream And find my hopes dispelled and dead, Your promises a mocking theme Of pleasantry in jesting said. xx. " Farewell ! God grant through future years On you no waking grief may fall, And blend your life with bitter tears, And blighted hopes your heart impall." 26 ONTI OR A. He paused one moment, then was gone, The fiercely-raging storm to brave, Nor cared he as he struggled on His blighted, weary life to save. XXI. The judge had finished his debate, Madam Von Emich had rewound Her tangled wool. The hour was late, The fire had burned to ashy mound. Trembling and pale, Edith drew near. " Father !" she cried, " Leon has gone, Gone never to return, I fear, My taunting words the wrong have done." XXII. The judge exclaimed, " Edith ! in tears ! My child, I do not understand This lovers' quarrel ; cease your fears. Leon will not renounce your hand ; ONTI OR A. 27 He's noble, brave, and must be true, His spirit proud; but I am sure By early morn he'll visit you ; His anger will not long endure." XXIII. Her mother whispered, " Do not mind This little trial in your way; Misunderstandings we all find, Like cloudlets on the fairest day." Edith, relieved by what they said, Made her affectionate adieu, All anger from her thoughts had fled, And left her love unchanged and true. XXIV. Louder the deafening thunder pealed In crashing din the mansion o'er; The lurid lightning's flame revealed The slighted bauble on the floor. 28 ONTI ORA. Edith replaced the pledge of love Upon her finger with a kiss, And silent prayer that it would prove Auspicious of her future bliss. CANTO SECOND. MORNING awoke; a golden sheen Of sunshine flooded mount and vale; " From primrose cups and daisies pale." It drank the drops from foliage green, From primrose cups and daisies pale, 29 30 ONTI ORA. And stole from webs of gossamer Their tiny beads of pearly dew, Without a zephyr's breath to stir The fairy meshes stranded through. ii. Edith from troubled dreams arose With aching heart and weary brain ; She wandered forth to seek repose, Her wonted spirits to regain. Through deep ravines, 'neath shadows gray Of latticed boughs and trailing vines. Where sunbeams seldom found their way To sport in bright prismatic lines. in. By the pure air refreshed, at last She paused, debating her return. A flock of pigeons fluttered past ; What startled them she could not learn, ONTI OR A. 31 Till in the path before her stood A woman in a foreign guise, Who looked the genius of the wood In her strange garb of many dyes. IV. Surprised, bewildered, Edith gazed Like mountain fawn; from sudden fright She trembled, panting and amazed, As the strange figure met her sight. A hat of straw with drooping plumes Sat jauntily upon her head; Her garments, silk from India's looms, A rich and golden lustre shed. v. Hers was a tawny beauty rare, With head erect and stately mien, And large black eyes and raven hair, The faultless type of gypsy queen. 32 ONTI OR A. Edith by instinct maidenly, Attracted to a face so mild, Regained her native courtesy, And on the wandering stranger smiled. VI. Then quickly o'er the gypsy's face Rippled a genial answering glance : "Lady!" she said, "thy winsome grace And loveliness all hearts entrance. Thy fortune, lady, let me tell; I joy to read a fate like thine ; Thy future life I know as well As gifts of prophecy divine. VII. " Here, place thy little hand in mine ; Now cross the palm with coin of gold; 'Twill make the planets brighter shine Through which thy horoscope is told." ONTI ORA. 33 Long gazed she on the shapely hand That nestled coyly in her own, Studied each line and threaded strand, Until they all to her were known. VIII. She said, "I see thy childhood's dream Of joy and gladness glide away, Unruffled was life's placid stream Until the eve of yesterday. Venus and Mercury have told Of him thy lover, brave and good ; He has been jealous, proud and cold; That, lady, you have understood. IX. " Ah ! here are clouds ; nay, mind them not, My charm can drive them all away ; And here I see a darker spot Obscure the brightness of thy day. 34 ONTI ORA. I am a gypsy: in our God My faith is firm; this gift he gave That, as through life I onward plod, Some few from peril I might save. x. " I, Sibyl Metis, have the power, A talismanic charm of gold, To grant to thee a blissful dower And with delight thy heart enfold. Give me a gem, some jewel rare; My amulet will work the spell "With aid of thy two planets, where The reading of thy fate I tell." XI. Edith from out her girdle drew Her purse, and coin of gold she pressed Within the gypsy's palm, that true Might prove the promises expressed. ONTI ORA. 35 " See ! thus I make a mystic sign," The sibyl said ; " repeat with me The magic spell, that bliss be thine When I shall solve thy destiny." XII. In dialect of Romani She told her incantations there, While Edith's whispers timidly Fell like response to murmured prayer. With curious signs the gypsy placed An amulet in Edith's hand, A plaid of many colors traced Over a well-filled tiny band. XIII. " The clouds that now obscure thy sky In time will all have cleared away, For in the future I descry The sunshine of thy wedding-day. 36 ONTl OR A. Thy lines of life are strangely laid, Deep mystery all blended through; Whatever comes, be not dismayed; Have faith, be strong! Lady, adieu!" XIV. Edith, her fortune told, returned, Excitement beaming in her eyes; Her cheeks with mantling blushes burned, That half betrayed her late surprise. The breakfast hour was nearly o'er,- " Ah ! here you come !" her father said ; " I searched for you two miles or more, "Will-o'-the-wisp, such ways you led." xv. Madam Von Emich smiling sat Over the breakfast to preside, Not e ? en forgetting " Flo," the cat, That watched for crumbs her chair besida. ONTI ORA. 37 Edith was troubled and oppressed By sad forebodings undefined ; A deep solicitous unrest Had forced itself upon her mind. XVI. Her cousin John, two months that day, Had come their welcome guest to be ; Brave, handsome, witty, genial, gay, Rather a dangerous rival he. Born in the South, for the "lost cause" Four long and toilsome years he fought ; The strife had been a dreary pause, And his young life stern lessons taught. XVII. His father was the brother twin Of Edith's mother, and therefore Doubly endeared, ere Cain's dark sin Of brother against brother bore 38 ONTI OR A. Death-dealing arms with sword and flame. He, foremost in the battle strife, A victim to his zeal became, And in the conflict lost his life. XVIII. His mother died of grief, 'twas said, When Peace her olive-branch displayed, And buried discord with her dead. John Winstone had not long delayed His promised visit North; he knew He would receive the warm embrace That as their kinsman was his due, And in their love would find a place. CANTO THIRD. EDITH'S fond hopes proved all in vain, Leon did not return again. The judge, in his official way, Condemned his slighting, cold delay. He called his daughter to his side And bade her steel her heart with pride ;- " You, a Von Emich, are above The wrong imposed upon your love ; The fickle Frenchman, let him go: Guard every look that none may know You cared for him. My darling child ! For many weeks you've scarcely smiled; Go walk up through the mountain wood, The morning air will do you good; 39 40 ONTI ORA. Thomas shall follow you anon, Give me a kiss, one more ; begone !" rf ii. With deep-drawn sigh her answer came : " Dear father, give me all the blame ; I drove him hence; but I will smile, My poor heart breaking all the while, In penitence for that false pride Which banished Leon from my side." She fondly kissed his frown away And left, his wishes to obey. Her father called her cousin then And bade him walk through mountain glen As gallant knight and guardian true, Her steps to trace the forest through. He had good motive when he said That Thomas should be sent instead, A trusty servant growing old, Unlike her youthful cousin bold. ONTI ORA. 41 Her kinsman she had shunned of late, And blamed him for her altered fate. in. The judge observed her manner shy And thought this stratagem to try, Which he concluded would be best To reconcile her to their guest. John called his dogs and sauntered forth (His skill as guide was not much worth); The setters, in glad racing play, Oft led his footsteps far astray. Edith, in meditative mood Seeking a solitary wood, From beaten path had turned aside Where rushed a torrent deep and wide, A mountain stream the cliffs between Meandering through a wild ravine; The droning waters overleapt A craggy height, and downward swept 42 ONTI ORA. In foaming spray-shower from on high, Like web of floss dropped from the &ky. IV. Blithe chorus of sweet melody Trilled back in echoes glad and free; .^Eolian harp notes, low and clear, Enchantingly fell on her ear, As if the birds with rival song Their madrigal would fain prolong. She paused and gazed with anxious eye In hope her lover to descry, Sighing, " My Leon will not prove A recreant to his plighted love ; He will not leave me to atone My hasty words. Could I have known My folly as I see it now, Unchanged had been love's sacred vow." ONTI ORA. 43 She looked a wood-nymph standing there, Bewildered by her deep despair, When suddenly a call-note clear Rang out upon her listening ear; The loud halloo still nearer came, Calling repeatedly her name. Then instantly her cousin John Appeared the boldest cliff upon. " Halloo ! Diana ! sylvan maid ! For this fair chance I've dearly paid: My dogs have wandered from the path ; I've left the stragglers in my wrath, And let my fancy teach the way; It led me here. Sweet coz, I say ! Behold the doom of Tantalus, To be so near and sundered thus. I cannot scale the mountain-side, Nor, like Leander, swim the tide. 44 ONTI OR A. Had I the wings of Mercury, To my beloved I'd quickly flee." VI. "Cease, John!" slie cried, in her surprise; " A greater barrier 'tween us lies." " Ah yes," he answered ; " but why dwell On past misfortunes? none can tell What future years may have in store ; Please, Edith, be yourself once more. Joking aside, sweet coz, I fear I have intruded coming here ; Has my rough humor been so plain That it has blanched your cheeks with pain ?'' Like athlete bold in swift descent From crag to crag he nimbly went, Till with a bound, all barriers past, He landed at her side at last, Beaming with health and exercise, A merry light in his dark eyes, " HER COUSIN JOHN APPEARED THE BOLDEST CLIFF UPON. ONTI ORA. 47 Quite undecided which, to tease Or try his cousin's mood to please. VII. He said, " 'Tis time we should return; A sportsman's prize I fairly earn, Not as a poacher came I here, I must take home my uncle's dear." She smiled to hear his sallies gay, And followed on their homeward way; His ringing laugh and chatty cheer Fell like glad music on her ear. The truant setters soon appeared, With whining bark the hrushwood cleared ; Their drooping, silken ears and tails, Their crouching gait and plaintive wails, And each imploring, upturned face, Gave mute expression of disgrace. When in their master's pleasant mien No sign of anger they had seen, 48 ONTI ORA. They fawned on him in sportive play, And bounded on the homeward wav. VIII. The Gordon Scot was black as night, The other brown bedappled white; Two noble dogs, of setter breed, Trained every glance to know and heed. Edith admired the graceful pair, Their supple limbs and silken hair; She said, ^How beautiful this Scot! So glossy black, and every spot Of richest tan, he's good and wise, I know by his clear, speaking eyes." John said, " I'll give the dog to you, Edith; he'll prove a champion true; Here, Shot ! down charge ! allegiance give To your fair mistress while you live." She answered, "John, I thank you; no, I've not the heart to treat him so; ONTI OR A. 49 Such friends devoted must not part, He understands, 'twould break his heart." John reassured her when he said, "Be not by sympathy misled; Shot is so jealous, he can't bear My love with even Grouse to share." CANTO FOURTH. I. ON mountain ledge of mossy stone, Near where a rushing torrent strayed Through gorges deep and ways unknown, The gypsies their encampment made. Sibyl sat gazing on the sky, The planet influence to explore, And solve the tangled mystery In murmured words of gypsy lore. Long sat she thus, her brow o'ercast By gloomy omens that oppressed ; Then smiled and said, "I see; at last Her weary heart will find its rest: Ah ! thankless task, Why did I ask This mystery to solve? 51 52 ONTI OR A. Her planets rise On clouded skies, And in their gloom revolve. "What do I care If she be fair, Gentle, refined, and pure? 'Tis self must rule, I am no fool, Her fate she must endure." n. She paused and heard the laughter gay Of gypsies laden with their spoil, Who sauntered up the rugged way Singing blithe songs to lighten toil; And, as they gained the craggy height, Assum, their leader, gayly sung A tribute to the shades of night, That echoed the dark cliffs among. ONTI ORA. 53 And the/\melody's refrain Prolonged the music, till the trees From nightly slumber woke again With foliage dancing in the breeze. SONG. We love the night With star-gems bright, When hooting owls we hear ; "Tis then we reign O'er mount and plain, Nor lords nor laws we fear. Chorus. Drink to the night ! When dawning light Shall shift the darker scene, We close our play And hie away, Away to the woodlands green. When midnight flings Her sombre wings Over the sleeping town, 54 ONTI OR A. The gypsies rove Through field and grove, And seek their own renown. Chorus. Drink to the night ! When dawning light Shall shift the darker scene, We close our play And hie away, Away to the woodlands green. III. At their approach, with queenly smile Sibyl received her loyal band; For well she knew they would beguile The weary hours at her command. "Play timbrels, dance, and sing glad songs, I fain would rest ere dies the night," She said, " for joy to youth belongs ; Your mirth will sadness put to flight." She drew her mantle o'er her breast, On bed of moss with graceful ease ONTI ORA. 55 She sought and found refreshing rest, While all conspired their queen to please. SONG. Drink to our queen ! The forests green To her allegiance own ; The mountains high That kiss the sky Her kingdom and her throne. Chorus. Sleep, sweet sleep, Silent and deep, Give to our queen. She's good, she's great, She reads our fate, By her each line is told : Here's to her health ! Here's to her wealth ! In countless coins of gold. Chorus. Sleep, sweet sleep, Silent and deep, Give to our queen. 56 ONTI ORA. IV. Ere the last note had died away Along the wild and deep ravine, Of the sweet, soothing roundelay, In slumber soft reposed the queen. The stars had paled in light of dawn ; All silent save the monotone Of mountain torrent rushing on Forever, with its drowsy drone. And while the gypsies take their rest We'll seek our heroine again, Whose joyless heart, by love unblessed, Strove to conceal its blighting pain. v. John Winstone by his jovial glee, His witty sallies, courtly grace, From every selfish motive free, Won flitting smiles to Edith's face. ONTI ORA. 57 For her he'd sing some melody, Her harp responding to the lay, That with transporting sympathy Wafted her thoughts far, far away. lii slumber soft reposed the queen." Of all his songs, one pleased her best, A ballad breathing love so deep It touched the chord in her pure breast Of hopes not dead but feigning sleep. 58 ONTI ORA. BALLAD. A soldier from the battle din Crowned with the wreath of fame, The fairest, loveliest bride to win O'er Ashley's borders came. Chorus. Fair Lena's brow was white, Her cheeks like blushing shells, Her eyes were sparkling bright, And blue as Scotia's bells. Her lips like rosy Cupid bows To match the young god's dart, Her pearly teeth would oft disclose, When drawn by smiles apart. Chorus. She was divinely fair, The soldier wooed in vain ; She loved young Arthur Dare, And ne'er would love again. ONTI OR A. 59 Her locks, like silken gold refined, In sunny ringlets strayed, Like beams of light, all unconfined, Around her shoulders played. Chorus. She was divinely fair, The soldier wooed in vain , She loved young Arthur Dare, And ne'er would love again. " Think not of him," the soldier cried, "For on the battle-field Young Arthur fighting by my side To naught but death would yield." Chorus. Then hopelessly she cried, " Arthur, my love ! for thee Thine own affianced bride Will pine in misery." Then off he threw his ample cloak, Disguise he cast aside, In well-known accents fondly spoke, "Lena! my faithful bride!" 60 ONTI ORA. Chorus. One startled glance she gave, Then fainted on his breast ; The true deserve the brave, God their true love had blessed. VI. When they had finished the refrain And all with compliments drew near, Edith concealed her hapless pain, JSTor let one sign of grief appear. The judge was satisfied and more That such discretion she had shown, With true Von Emich pride she bore A sorrow that should not be known. "Shot" was her escort everyday; He fondly followed her at large, On rides or walks, with sportive play And gallant pride in his fair charge. VII. One moonless night, when nature's breath Suspended hung like sultry noon, ONTI OR A. 61 Edith a warning had of death, A palsied dream, or trance-like swoon ; Of troubled fancies it was born And gleamed from shadows of the night; "She could not move, closed were her eyes." Before the waking hour of morn Appeared a figure ghostly white, One hand was pointing toward the wood; The other to a crimson stain 62 ONTI ORA. Upon its breast; awhile it stood, As if its meaning to make plain. VIII. She could not move, closed were her eyes,- Yet the strange spectral form of light She saw in agonized surprise, Until it vanished from her sight. Then starting from her sleep, she cried, "Am I awake? What means the blood I saw upon the phantom's side ? This surely cannot bode me good; And lives there one to do me wrong ? "Was I awake ? No ! I have dreamed ; By grief disturbed, I am not strong, Yet like reality it seemed. IX. " 'Twas but a vision of my sleep ; My soul is sad and thus I dreamed. ONTI ORA. (J3 Father in mercy gently keep Thy erring child, unworthy deemed To quaff her cup of earthly bliss. Oh, grant my prayer ! May heavenly grace Protect my love ; his doubts dismiss, And sad remembrances efface !" She nestled from her murmured prayer Down on her pillow like a child ; Secure in God's paternal care, With faith sublime, she swee.tly smiled. x. Her soothing sleep, her tranquil rest, Dispelled the phantoms of the night; All fears that had her mind oppressed The warm bright sunshine put to flight. Refreshed from her long morning nap, She found her mother, although late, Awaiting her, puss on her lap, Watching for crumbs beside her plate. ONTl ORA. " My darling ! you are pale to-day," She said to Edith. "You must eat; You starve yourself (Flo, run and play) ; These strawberries are quite a treat. XI. " You tarried long in land of dreams ; And yet your gallant cousin John Is later than yourself, it seems." " Madam, the gentleman has gone Out shooting partridge, if you please," Thomas respectfully replied. His words set madam's mind at ease ; For John in sporting took great pride. She laughing said, " That will explain The startling sound I heard this morn; It echoed through my drowsy brain Like tally-ho and huntsman's horn." ONTI ORA. 65 XII. Edith determined not to walk That morning, for she felt afraid Of giving cause for silly talk Between staid Thomas and her maid. Then all at once, by impulse led, She called for Shot his run to take, And followed as he onward sped To where the falls sad echoes wake. Their walk had not extended long Ere Shot at once grew wild with fear, Sure evidence that something wrong, Some great calamity, was hear. XIII. He sniffed the air with plaintive wail, Then urged her on to greater speed, Or cringed and howled. She could not fail The dog's great agony to heed. QQ ONTI ORA. " What ails you, Shot ? I fear you're ill," She said. " We will go home, poor Shot !" He heeded not her gentle will, And slowly crawled, as if he sought Yet dreaded something in the wood; Then his low whine was answered near ; The sound unearthly chilled her blood With uncontrolled and boding fear. XIV. Shot was at once electrified; Swift as an arrow on he flew ; She quickly followed her wild guide The tangled vines and brushwood through. Up near the fall, its bank upon, Composed as if he calmly slept, Lay dead her princely cousin John. The dogs their dirge-like wailing kept; Edith at first transfixed with grief Stood one brief moment, then she tried ONTI ORA. 67 To succor him, to bring relief, Sadly she knelt down by his side. xv. Her kerchief o'er the wound she pressed : " Shot ! home !" she cried ; he understood, And prompt to do her fond behest, Swiftly he bounded through the wood. They found her gazing on the dead, Gazing with deep despair and awe. They deemed her crazed from what she said : "John, 'twas thy spirit that I saw Draped in a flowing misty shroud ; Blood-stains upon its bosom white, Floating before me like a cloud, It vanished with the dawning light." XVI. * * * * * ,__ * "Who murdered our dear, noble John? Think you 'twas he ?" The madam spoke ; gg ONTI OR A. "Where can lie be? Where has he gone? It is a deadly, crushing stroke To the De Maurys; they are wild With hopeless grief and bitter shame That he, their loved, their only child, Has this suspicion on his name." " They say a duel had been fought," The judge replied ; " ill will he bore His rival ; but by more 'tis thought Revenge has paid the deadly score. XVII. "It is most strange, for I have learned, Before the murder Leon fled ; Had the base miscreant returned Much scandal had been left unsaid." Edith had ventured from her room, Where by her grief she was confined, And overheard her lover's doom With burning ears and frenzied mind. " HEK KERCHIEF O'ER THE WOUND SHE PKESSED." ONTI ORA. 71 "Father!" she cried, "this cannot be That you were saying ; you have erred; Leon from taint of crime is free; Take back each cruel, unjust word. XVIII. " Leon loved me too well, I know, To so revenge himself on John ; 'Twas I that caused this hapless woe, And at my bidding he has gone. Speak, father! all your words unsay; They fought not, nor has Leon fled Like recreant from the fatal fray, Leaving his blood-stained victim dead. Father ! be merciful to me ; To please you I have ever tried ; I come to sue on bended knee, No more sustained by my false pride. XIX. " Leon I loved, I love him still ; My coquetry drove him away; 72 ONTI ORA. My girlish folly, wayward will, Would not relent to bid him stay. Dear Cousin John read my poor heart; I thanked him for his tender care ; No longer can I play a part In life's dull drama of despair. I've faith in Leon, he is true; His innocence I will proclaim; Dear father, promise me that you In your high justice do the same. xx. " How stern you look ! your trembling hand My brow has never chilled before." "Edith, 'tis hard to understand What you would have ; pray say no more," The judge replied; "this triple woe Has made you not yourself to-day. You're faint! some water! Gently, so." Like sculptured form of marble lay ONTI OR A. 73 Edith within her father's arms ; The grief upon her face impressed Enhanced, idealized her charms, While wrapped in her unconscious rest. \v " Lay Edith within her father's arms." XXI. " My darling child ! My precious one ! She never will awake again. 74 ONTI ORA. See what our heedless words have done; Why have we caused this crushing pain ? Oh, God ! she's dead !" her mother cried, Wringing her hands in anguish wild; And all in ministrations vied Ere Edith woke and faintly smiled. Her lovely, classic, changeless face, Of purest alabaster white, Found in her father's heart new grace, He whispered, "Leon shall have right." CANTO FIFTH. i. TIME with his leaden wheels rolled on O'er Edith's heart, by grief oppressed; The judge had many missions gone In hope to calm her wild unrest, Her deep solicitude. Her wasted form and pallid cheek, Her ever-watchful, anxious eyes, Appeared amid the gloom to seek Some ray of light that might arise, Some harbinger of good. ii. One night there raged a fearful blast, The thunder muttered overhead, The skies, with blackest clouds o'ercast, The driving rain in torrents shed, Warped by the wild-wind sweep. 75 76 ONTI ORA. Thor drove his bolts and clanked his chain, Mocked by the echoes far away; The lightning to the weird refrain Danced in and out in fitful play, As if to "murder sleep." in. There came a package to the door, Official papers sealed and tied; A look of much importance wore In their stiff covers, long and wide, Bespattered by the rain. The judge the document received, Its contents scanned with studious care. " Edith !" he said, " you are relieved ; This legal work you need not share, 'Twould only give you pain." IV. Foreboding evil filled her heart. "Father!" she cried, "don't bid me go; ONTI OR A. 77 I feel those papers have a part In my great grief that I should know ; Don't keep me in suspense." The judge read twice the papers through Ere he could frame his words to speak, As if their purport to review; The gentlest way he fain would seek The bad news to dispense. v. "Read them!" she cried; "I have no fear; My cup of grief o'erruns its brim." " God give you strength, Edith, my dear !" He answered. " They've arrested him ; For so the papers say." "That is not all, tell me the rest; See! I am calmer far than you. Give me the papers ; it is best ; I am prepared to read them through; Dear father ! don't delay." 78 ONTI ORA. VI. He read : " ' Arrested De Maury On the ship Vesper, bound for France; She had just cleared the port for sea ; We found him by the merest chance, And have him here detained. Those who have known the young man well And felt great interest in his case Have paid him visits in his cell ; He does not recognize a face, Nor is his madness feigned.' VII. " Edith ! I would have spared you this ; Let me conduct you to your room. God bless you, darling! One more kiss! Take heart, we yet may lift the gloom ; Light follows darkest hour." He left her with her drowsy maid, Who marked Miss Edith's altered face, ONTI ORA. 79 And instantly attention paid, With thoughtful care and kindly grace, To the fair, drooping flower. " He read : 'Arrested De Maury on the ship Vesper. VIII. Silent was Edith, deepest grief Had stilled her tongue ; the tidings read Contained so much, although so brief, That with them hope at once was dead, Like blighted bud of spring. g0 ONTI ORA. She gently waved Marie away, Who answered, "Please, I cannot leave, Mademoiselle; with you I'll stay; I am afraid too much you grieve. Shall I the madam bring?" IX. Madam Von Emich quickly came, And, bending o'er her daughter fair, She murmured softly her dear name, Blended in a maternal prayer That God would bless her child. Her kindly words with love imbued, Her soft caressing, gentle hand, Her tender, fond solicitude, Edith's sad heart could understand Amid its tumults wild. x. Was it her mother's prayer sincere That soothed to rest her troubled mind ? ONTI OR A. 81 Or that the angels hovered near, In holy ministrations kind, That she so calmly slept? Madam Von Emich watched awhile Her dove, within her downy nest; Watched till she saw a dream-born smile Flit o'er the lovely face at rest, Then turned away and wept. XI. Why did she ever rise again ? Why did the morning's rosy light Bring naught to her but hopeless pain, And sorrow's slow, death-dealing blight? Why wake to misery? What use had been the gypsy's charm, The many-tinted amulet? It had not shielded her from harm ; Accursed the day that she had met That bane of destiny ! 82 ONTI ORA. XII. How dragged the hours in weariness ! Her self-conviction strong became That Leon's madness and distress, That brought disgrace upon his name, Were caused by jealousy. One little word that fatal night Of explanation would have made Leon her actions view aright; His maddened passion would have stayed From its dark tragedy. XIII. They took her on the mission sad To visit Leon in his cell. She found him sullen, hopeless, mad ; She cried, "My love! all will be well, God give us strength meanwhile." 'HIS HANDS HE POINTING TOWARDS HER RAISED. ONTI ORA. 85 At her sweet voice he turned and gazed One moment as if petrified ; His hands he pointing towards her raised ; " Avaunt ! thou lovely fiend !" he cried, " With thy false luring smile." XIV. He spoke in French, " I love her not ! How dares she speak of love to me? On my fair fame there is a blot From which it never can be free, I am condemned by fate." He turned away; nor would he deign To look upon her once loved face, Nor would he speak to her again, But proudly waved her from the place, And scowled with loathing hate. xv. They led her gently from the room In mute, unutterable pain. 86 ONTI OR A. The madman's cell that living tomb Was Leon's sentence to remain, There without hope consigned. To his sad parents Edith went Daily, in sympathy sincere, During their son's dark banishment; Full well she knew the moments drear Their lonely lives would find. XVI. Not once since that disastrous day Had Edith walked in forest green; The dogs neglected, hid away, At first were scarcely to be seen, They would their kennels keep. When Edith noticed them, their mood Of sorrow passed and joy burst forth ; Her kindly care they understood, And well she knew their faithful worth, Their strong afifection deep. ONTI ORA. 87 XVII. The judge insisted she should ride With mounted groom ; then Grouse and Shot, Watchful attendants, by her side, Their recent sorrow all forgot In their wild racing play. "When Edith noticed them their joy burst forth." One morning, much to her surprise, She felt new sense of happiness, ONTI ORA. New light of pleasure filled her eyes, And sorrow's sombre clouds grew less That darkened o'er her way. XVIII. Her thorough-bred, Ben Bolt, a bay, Sniffed the fresh air and cantered on With dancing feet and easy sway. Not far upon the road he'd gone, When he at once stood still ; There, near the tree-embowered wood, In her fantastic golden sheen, The gorgeous gypsy waiting stood, Like ancient Oriental queen The web of fate to fill. XIX. " Lady, God greet thee ! Many a day Have I been waiting, to explain What I have done the spell to stay That mars thy youth, but all in vain It was thy destiny. ONTI ORA. gg Through the long hours of yesternight, I read thy planets o'er again; The clouds are passing, all is light; Thy meed shall come from grief and pain, Joy wreathes her smiles for thee. xx. " 'Tis written, six months from this, hour Thou shalt become a happy wife ; Bliss unalloyed shall be thy dower, And children gladden love and life, Thy horoscope is read." When she received her fee of gold, She said, "I thank thee, lady fair! My. face once more shalt thou behold;" Then, like a meteor through the air, From Edith's presence fled. XXI. Ben Bolt had stood as if a spell Was wrought upon him, till she left ; 90 ONTI OR A. His fine, arched neck began to swell; With one impatient hoof he cleft The fern and moss-grown mould ; Quivered his flanks with nervous dread, His flickering nostrils wide became, Nodded his restless, shapely head, His ears alert and eyes aflame With horror uncontrolled. XXII. The dogs had flushed a woodcock there, And set him in the dingle shade; Of the strange meeting unaware, Attention to their game they paid With silent watchfulness. That interview renewed the pain In Edith's breast; her pale, sad face Could not its late bright glow regain ; No faith on gypsy lore she'd place To lighten her distress. "WITH ONE IMPATIENT HOOF HE CLEFT THE MOULD. CANTO SIXTH i. "DEARLY four years have winged their onward way," Edith soliloquized ; "It does not seem That I have lived; 'twas only the delay, The hope to waken from this dreadful dream ; Total eclipse will make of morning night, When shrouded in the shadows it will bring." She stood in her black robes, herself so white ; Etherealized was she by suffering. n. " Why should the anniversaries of grief, Dull monitors, awake a slumbering woe ? The journey of our life is far too brief To live again our sorrows as we go," 94 ONTI ORA. The judge observed when Edith's form he saw, As she her solitary musing kept; And greeting her, he said, " By nature's law I thought that you in morning dreams still slept. in. " ' A dream,' old Homer tells us, ' comes from God.' If so, I can predict for you some good. That I should dream at all is somewhat odd; As I remember, it was thus I stood, With you beside me, gazing at the moon ; Diana held her silver bow unstrung, Late in the morning, near the brightest noon, Her crescent pale among the sunbeams hung. IV. " The sky was brilliant with its sunny light, 'Twas one of summer's warmest, brightest days ; I said to you, ' My vision can't be right ; Phrebus should hide Diana's borrowed rays.' ONTI ORA. 95 Delightedly you made reply to me, ' Father, I've wished ; my wish I shall obtain ; When the new moon at mid-day we can see, The sign portends that we our hopes shall gain.' ' v. " Papa, I thank you ! 'Twas a vivid play Of fancy," Edith answered ; " ne'er before Have I believed my grief would pass away And sorrow's gloom enshroud my life no more. 'Tis not foreboding that I soon shall die ; But in the sunshine, in the morning air, All nature with new beauty greets my eye; My faith revives that God will answer prayer." VI. And as they stood conversing pleasantly, They heard the rumbling of a carriage near : " So early !" Edith said, " Who can it be At the De Maurys ? Some one ill, I fear." 96 ONTI ORA. A lengthened pause, and then a joyous scream ; She grasped his arm, and cried excitedly, " 'Tis he ! 'tis Leon ! Father, do I dream ? And is this but a mocking phantasy?" VII. Already near, he might have heard her speak; Advancing quickly in his manly pride, The flush of deep excitement on his cheek, A moment more and he was by her side. " Edith, my darling my beloved adored !" Clasped in his arms she fainted on his breast, But waking soon, to consciousness restored, All fears dispelled, she knew her love was blessed. VIII. He sat with them, still clasping Edith's hand, As if afraid to trust her from his sight, And told his story : " When at your command I rushed oft' madly, that tempestuous night, ONT1 ORA. 97 I met a friend of mine about to leave For France, to aid his countrymen at war; Then came the thought that I could make you grieve, Nor scrupled I your happiness to mar. " Edith, my darling iny beloved adored !" IX. That you would grieve I hoped ; I took delight In your remorse and torture ; you would feel 98 OAT/ OR A. Yourself the cause ; unmarked, I fled by night, My heart by jealousy grown hard as steel ; I joined the army; fighting did me good, Hardship soon softened my revengeful ire; High in my general's favor soon I stood, And won the fame that soldiers most desire. " The star and cross I gained. When Peace once more Spread her soft pinions o'er the spoils of war, I yearned to visit my dear native shore And slighted loved ones, in that land afar. I sought and found my relatives in France; They told me there the very strangest tale. My aunt received me in a swooning trance ; I thought her dead, she looked so cold and pale. : HIGH IN MV GENERAL'S FAVOR SOON i STOOD. ONTI OR A. 101 XI. " "When she revived, ' Louis ! my child !' she cried ; ' My darling ! darling boy ! noble and brave ! Sadly for you we've mourned; we thought you died In distant land, or found a watery grave.' Then both caressed me in so fond a way I could not breathe, so great their ecstasy, Until at last I found the voice to say, 1 There's some mistake ; I'm Leon de Maury.' XII. " 'Twas hard to make them credit me, at last They both exclaimed, ' If what you say be true, On a dark mystery a light is cast : Louis, our son, is suffering for you.' Then from a paper crumpled, old, and torn, I read in French what you too well must know; Nearly four years my name had Louis worn ; My folly meted him the direful blow. 102 OJfTI ORA. XIII. " Then came back on myself all I had schemed, And grim remorse for my revengeful pride Oppressed my heart. Poor Louis' fetters gleamed Like haunting phantoms ever at my side. His parents and affianced bride are here; Impatient in their love they came with me. Pauline's devotion Louis' heart will cheer When he from unjust bondage is set free." XIV. He scarce had ended, ere he heard his name Called by his mother in her gentle way: " Ah, truant ! how you slight our older claim, That you at love's behest so long delay !" She greeted Edith with affection deep. "Leon," she said, "they wait at home for you; Asylum bars their prisoner must not keep, When you the bolts so quickly can undo." ONTI ORA. 103 XV. When they had gone, the judge in merry mood Exclaimed, "Dear Edith, tell mamma my dream ; And let its meaning so be understood ; Visions prophetic through my fancy gleamed. I'm not poetic with a frenzied mind, Nor superstitious, nor astronomer; Edith, my darling, in its reading find That once a dream of sunshine did not err." CANTO SEVENTH. i. THE old asylum stood alone In which poor Louis was confined; A massive pile of granite stone, Where strength and beauty were combined. His room the best; a trailing vine Stranded the window bars between, And fragrant flower of eglantine Peeped blushing "mid the foliage green. II. He just had finished his repast, And musing sat in revery; Little he dreamed 'twould be the last Of prison life that he would see. 105 106 ONTI OR A. He sighed, " They all believe me dead ; They cannot know my unjust doom, Buried alive," he sadly said, " In this my hapless, lonely tomb." in. " Dear Louis !" were the words he heard Through his half-open casement low. " Listen !" he cried, " my mocking-bird, The only one my name can know." The bird was hanging near his chair, With ruffled plumage chirping clear ; His plaintive note rung on the air, When Louis' voice he chanced to hear. IV. Then, from the casement as he turned, His yearning gaze on distant view, Familiar faces he discerned, And forms appeared that well he knew. ONTI ORA. 107 'Twas fortunate that timely glance Prepared his mind for future weal; Sometimes unlooked-for pleasures chance To break the heart they come to heal. V. No words can paint the blissful scene, The rapture unrestrained and wild, That marked the meeting there between The parents and their long-lost child. Leon and Louis wondering gazed Each at the other's face awhile; Both were surprised, perplexed, amazed, Nor could resist a puzzled smile. VI. "Louis," said Leon, "love and war Are themes that we will not dispute; While you were pent by bolts and bar In Gallia's cause, your substitute, 108 ONTI ORA. I fought, and God preserved me whole. Nor have I dimmed your noble name; I think I your advancement stole, Beside your star and cross of fame, VII. " Marked ' L. de Maury ;' here they are. The cross I keep in penitence ; Take this, 'tis yours, the jewelled star! For prisoned years small recompense. 'Tis all made plain, I understand The cordial greeting I received From the brave general in command, Rendered to you as he believed." VIII. Then Louis' mother whispering said, " Pauline is here, unchanged and true ; While we all mourned for you as dead She hopefully awaited you." ONTI OR A. 109 " Mother !" he cried, " oh, do you mean Those words ? ' unchanged and true' to me ! She here ! My own beloved Pauline ! Oh, God, can this be mockery? "Oh, God, can this be mockery?" IX. " Many the letters I have sent, Nor would I she my doom should know; Quite sure am I my letters went, At least the doctor told me so, 110 ONTI ORA. But never came an answering word : O Vainly I strove the cause to trace; I thought my sad mischance she heard, And I had fallen from her grace." x. He paused awhile, and then reviewed The dire mishap that brought him there, That had declared his hands imbrued With blood; his anguish, his despair, And all his lonely prisoned years; Then, banishing oppressive thought, He dashed away unbidden tears And said, " My bliss is cheaply bought. XI. " Our ship had scarcely touched the shore When the exciting news I learned That France against all Prussia bore Offensive war; my valor burned ONTI ORA. Ill To join my regiment again. I took my passage that same night; And when detained, my rage and pain My reason nearly put to flight. XII. "Nor dreamed I that my face and name Had living counterpart so true; That as your double I became The substitute, Leon! for you, "While you for me great hardships bore, During the cruel siege of France ; Thank God ! the tragedy is o'er ; Past gloom our present joys enhance." XIII. Edith at once must sympathize, On her first meeting, with Pauline, Whose earnest, anxious, dreamy eyes Shadowed the sorrow she had seen. 112 ONTI ORA. Pauline knew Edith's story well, Pictured by Leon's partial tongue; Of her great beauty he would tell, Her truth and virtues all he sung. XIV. 'Twas morning, brightest of the year ; Edith beside her casement stood, When all at once who should appear But Sibyl, genius of the wood. Edith waved her a mute command; Unushered, quickly by her side The gypsy came. She took her hand And said, " God bless thee, lovely bride ! xv. " To solve the mystery I came That clouds upon thy life have cast; The death of one whose honored name Lives in sad memory of the past. "EDITH BESIDE HER CASEMENT STOOD. ONTI OR A. 115 'Twas accidental : in his sport His gaze on distant game intent, He fell, and at his gun's report I quickly to his succor went. XVI. " It was too late, quite dead he lay : The shot had pierced his young heart through ; I lifted him, yet dared not stay : 'Twould be unsafe. Lady, I knew Our race adjudged to be a bane ; Had I my knowledge then made known, That he by accident was slain, Guilt on the gypsies had been thrown. XVII. " This is thy wedding day foretold, Dispelled is now all boding gloom ; Nor could I longer from thee hold The secret shrouded in his tomb; 116 ONTI ORA. My tingling blood made known to me, The morning on which first we met, The part mysterious destiny To me in thy misfortunes set. "Farewell! thy horoscope is told." XVIII. A sacred wish was granted me, The boon of grace to bless thy life : ONTI ORA. H7 From sorrow evermore be free, Wedded in love, an honored wife. Thrice, lady, I thy path have crossed ; In gypsies' queen no foe behold : Kind words to us are never lost ; Farewell ! thy horoscope is told." THE END.