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Sir Eglamore was he:
Their mutual loyalty !
Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Thy brook, and bowers of holly ;
That all but Love is folly ;
Doubt came not nor regret ;
Whose sun could never set.
But in old times, Love dwelt not long
Sequestered with repose ;
Fanned by the breath of foes.
And proves the lover true ;'
And looked a blind adieu.
They parted.-Well with him it fared
Through wide-spread regions errant; A knight of proof in love's behoof,
The thirst of faiae his warrant: And she her happiness can build
On woman's quiet hours ;
Though faint, compared with spear and shield, The solace beads and masses yield,
And needlework and flowers.
Yet blest was Emma when she heard
Her Champion's praise recounted ; Though brain would swim and eyes grow dim,
And high her blushes mounted ; Or when a bold, heroic lay
She warbled from full heart: Delightful blossoms for the May Of absencel but they will not stay,
Born only to depart.
Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills
Whatever path he chooses ;
Received the light hers loses.
Requires fe nobler deeds ;
But what her fancy breeds.
His fame may spread, but in the past
Her spirit finds its centre;
And that would now content ner. “Still is be my devoted knight?"
The tear in answer flows; Month falls on month with heavier weight ;
Day sickens round her, and the night
Is empty of repose.
In sleep she sometimes walked abroad,
Deep sighs with quick-words blending, Like that pale queen whose hands are seen
With fancied spots contending ; But she is innocent of blood,
The moon is not more pure That shines aloft, while through the wood She thrids her way, the sounding flood
Her melancholy lure !
While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,
And owls alone are waking,
The downward pathway taking,
And to a holly bower ;
By thee, Sir Eglamore!
A wandering ghost, so thinks the knight,
His coming step has thwarted, Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,
Within whose shade they parted.
Perplexed her fingers seem,
Flung from her to the stream.
What means the spectre ? Why intent
To violate the tree,
To her I left shall prove
Of valour, truth, and love.
So from the spot whereon he stood,
He moved with stealthy pace;
He recognised the face ;
Some to the green-leaved tree, Some muttered to the torrent-fall, “Roar on, and bring him with thy call ;
I heard, and so may he !"
Soul-shattered was the knight, nor knew
If Emma's ghost it were,
Her very self stood there.
The soft touch snapped the thread Of slumber-shrieking, back she fell, And the stream whirled her down the dell
Along its foaming bed.
In plunged the knight! when on firm ground
The rescued maiden lay,
Her eyes grew bright with blissful light,
Confusion passed away;
Her faithful spirit flew,
She felt that he was true.
So was he reconciled to life:
Brief words may speak the rest ; Within the dell he built a cell,
And there was Sorrow's guest :
From vain temptations free ;
And awed to piety.
Wild stream of Airs, hold thy course,
Nor fear memorial lays,
Are edged with golden rays !
Thougı minister of sorrow,
Shalt take thy place with Yarrow!