As might beseem the fairest Fair,
Whether she graced a royal chair,
Or shed, within a vaulted Hall,
No fancied lustre on the wall
Where shields of mighty Heroes hung,
While Fingal heard what Ossian sung.

'The heroic Age expired-it slept

Deep in its tomb :-the bramble crept
O'er Fingal's hearth; the grassy sod
Grew on the floors his Sons had trod :
Malvina where art thou? Their state
The noblest-born must abdicate,
The fairest, while with fire and sword
Come Spoilers-horde impelling horde,
Must walk the sorrowing mountains, drest
By ruder hands in homelier vest.
Yet still the female bosom lent,
And loved to borrow, ornament;
Still was its inner world a place
Reached by the dews of heavenly grace;
Still pity to this last retreat
Clove fondly; to his favourite seat
Love wound his way by soft approach,
Beneath a massier Highland Broach,

When alternations came of rage
Yet fiercer, in a darker age;

And feuds, where, clan encountering clan,
The weaker perished to a man;
For maid and mother, when despair
Might else have triumphed, baffling prayer,
One small possession lacked not power,
Provided in a calmer hour,

To meet such need as might befall-
Roof, raiment, bread, or burial:
For woman, even of tears bereft,
The hidden silver Broach was left.

As generations come and go, Their arts, their customs, ebb and flow; Fate, fortune, sweep strong powers away, And feeble, of themselves, decay; -What poor abodes the heir-loom hide, In which the castle once took pride! Tokens, once kept as boasted wealth, If saved at all, are saved by stealth. Lo! ships, from seas by nature barred, Mount along ways by man prepared ; And in far-stretching vales, whose streams Seek other seas, their canvas gleams. Lo! busy towns spring up, on coasts Thronged yesterday by airy ghosts; Soon, like a lingering star forlorn Among the novelties of morn, While young delights on old encroach, Will vanish the last Highland Broach.

But when, from out their viewless bed,
Like vapours, years have rolled and spread,
And this poor verse, and worthier lays,
Shall yield no light of love or praise,
Then, by the spade, or cleaving plough,
Or torrent from the mountain's brow,
Or whirlwind, reckless what his might
Entombs, or forces into light,
Blind Chance, a volunteer ally,
That oft befriends Antiquity,
And clears Oblivion from reproach,
May render back the Highland Broach.

THE EGYPTIAN MAID;

OR,

THE ROMANCE OF THE WATER LILY.

[For the names and persons in the following poem, see the "History of the renowned Prince Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table" for the rest the Author is answerable; only it may be proper to add, that the Lotus, with the bust of the goddess appearing to rise out of the full-blown flower, was suggested by the beautiful work of ancient art, once included among the Townley Marbles, and now in the British Museum.]

WHILE Merlin paced the Cornish sands,
Forth-looking toward the Rocks of Scilly,
The pleased Enchanter was aware
Of a bright Ship that seemed to hang in
air,

Yet was she work of mortal hands,
And took from men her name - THE
WATER LILY.

Such was the wind, that landward blew ; And, as the Moon, o'er some dark hill ascendant,

Grows from a little edge of light

To a full orb, this Pinnace bright Became, as nearer to the Coast she drew, More glorious, with spread sail and streaming pendant.

Upon this winged Shape so fair
Sage Merlin gazed with admiration :
Her lineaments, thought he, surpass
Aught that was ever shown in magic
glass;

Was ever built with subtle care; Or, at a touch, set forth with wondrous transformation.

Now, though a Mechanist, whose skill Shames the degenerate grasp of modern science,

Grave Merlin (and belike the more

For practising occult and perilous lore)
Was subject to a freakish will
That sapped good thoughts, or scared
them with defiance.

Provoked to envious spleen, he cast
An altered look upon the advancing
Stranger

Whom he had hailed with joy, and cried, "My Art shall help to tame her pride-" Anon the breeze became a blast,

Yet is there cause for gushing tears; So richly was this Galley laden; A fairer than Herself she bore, And, in her struggles, cast ashore ; A lovely One, who nothing hears Of wind or wave-a meek and gu:leless Maiden.

Into a cave had Merlin fled

From mischief, caused by spells himself had muttered;

And, while repentant all too late,

In moody posture there he sate,

He heard a voice, and saw, with halfraised head,

With thrilling word, and potent sign Traced on the beach, his work the

Sorcerer urges ;

The clouds in blacker clouds are lost, Like spiteful Fiends that vanish, crossed By Fiends of aspect more malign; And the winds roused the Deep with fiercer scourges.

But worthy of the name she bore Was this Sea-flower, this buoyant Galley; Supreme in loveliness and grace Cf motion, whether in the embrace Of trusty anchorage, or scudding o'er The main flood roughened into hill and valley.

Behold, how wantonly she laves

Her sides, the Wizard's craft confounding;

Like something out of Ocean sprung To be for ever fresh and young, Breasts the sea-flashes, and huge waves Top-gallant high, rebounding and rebounding!

But Ocean under magic heaves,

And cannot spare the Thing he cherished: Ah! what avails that She was fair, Luminous, blithe, and debonair? The storm has stripped her of her leaves; The Lily floats no longer!-She hath perished.

Grieve for her, -She deserves no less; So like, yet so unlike, a living Creature! No heart had she, no busy brain; Though loved, she could not love again; Though pitied, feel her own distress; Nor aught that troubles us, the fools of Nature.

uttered:

"On Christian service this frail Bark Sailed" (hear me, Merlin!) under high protection,

Though on her prow a sign of heathen power

Was carved-a Goddess with a Lily flower, The old Egyptian's emblematic mark Of joy immortal and of pure affection.

"Her course was for the British strand, Her freight it was a Damsel peerless; God reigns above, and Spirits strong May gather to avenge this wrong Done to the Princess, and her Land Which she in duty left, though sad not cheerless.

"And to Caerleon's loftiest tower

Soon will the Knights of Arthur's Table A cry of lamentation send;

And all will weep who there attend, For whom the sea was made unnavigable. To grace that Stranger's bridal hour,

chalice.

My pearly Boat, a shining Light, That brought me down that sunless river, Will bear me on from wave to wave, And back with her to this sea-cave; Then Merlin! for a rapid flight Through air to thee my charge will I deliver.

The very swiftest of thy Cars Must, when my part is done, be ready; Meanwhile, for further guidance, look Into thy own prophetic book; And, if that fail, consult the Stars To learn thy course; farewell! be prompt and steady."

This scarcely spoken, she again
Was seated in her gleaming Shallop,
That, o'er the yet-distempered Deep,
Pursued its way with bird-like sweep,
Or like a steed, without a rein,
Urged o'er the wilderness in sportive gallop.

Soon did the gentle Nina reach
That Isle without a house or haven;
Landing, she found not what she sought,
Nor saw of wreck or ruin aught

But a carved Lotus cast upon the shore By the fierce waves, a flower in marble graven.

Sad relique, but how fair the while! For gently each from each retreating With backward curve, the leaves revealed The bosom half, and half concealed, Of a Divinity, that seemed to smile On Nina as she passed, with hopeful greeting.

No quest was hers of vague desire, Of tortured hope and purpose shaken; Following the margin of a bay, She spied the lonely Cast-away, Unmarred, unstripped of her attire, But with closed eyes,-of breath and bloom forsaken.

Then Nina, stooping down, embraced, With tenderness and mild emotion, The Damsel, in that trance embound; And, while she raised her from the ground, And in the pearly shallop placed, Sleep fell upon the air, and stilled the ocean.

The turmoil hushed, celestial springs Of music opened, and there came a blending

Of fragrance, underived from earth, With gleams that owed not to the Sun their birth,

If this be sleep, how soft! if death, how fair!

Much have my books disclosed, but the end is hidden."

He spake, and gliding into view
Forth from the grotto's dimmest chamber
Came two mute Swans, whose plumes
of dusky white

Changed, as the pair approached the light, Drawing an ebon car, their hue (Like clouds of sunset) into lucid amber.

Once more did gentle Nina lift

The Princess, passive to all changes:
The car received her; then up-went
Into the ethereal element

The Birds with progress smooth and swift As thought, when through bright regions

memory ranges.

Sage Merlin, at the Slumberer's side. Instructs the Swans their way to measure; And soon Caerleon's towers appeared, And notes of minstrelsy were heard

From rich pavilions spreading wide, For some high day of long-expected plea

sure.

Awe-stricken stood both Knights and
Dames

Ere on firm ground the car alighted:
Eftsoons astonishment was past,

For in that face they saw the last

Last lingering look of clay, that tames Al. pride, by which all happiness is blighted.

Said Merlin, "Mighty King, fair Lords, Away with feast and tilt and tourney! Ye saw, throughout this Royal House, Ye heard, a rocking marvellous Of turrets, and a clash of swords Self-shaken, as I closed my airy journey.

"Lo! by a destiny well known To mortals, joy is turned to sorrow; This is the wished-for Bride, the Maid Of Egypt, from a rock conveyed Where she by shipwreck had been thrown; 1 sight! but grief may vanish ere the morrow."

"Though vast thy power, thy words are
weak,'

Exclaimed the King. "a mockery hateful;
Dutiful Child! her lot how hard!
Is this her piety's reward?

Those watery locks, that bloodless cheek! O winds without remorse! O shore ungrateful!

"Rich robes are fretted by the moth;
Towers, temples, fall by stroke of thunder;
Will that, or deeper thoughts, abate
A Father's sorrow for her fate?
He will repent him of his troth;

His brain will burn, his stout heart split asunder.

44

'Ask not for whom, O champions true! She was reserved by me her life's betrayer; She who was meant to be a bride Is now a corse; then put aside

Vain thoughts, and speed ye, with observance due

Of Christian rites, in Christian ground to lay her."

The tomb," said Merlin, "may not close Upon her yet, earth hide her beauty; Not froward to thy sovereign will Esteem me, Liege! if I, whose skill Wafted her hither, interpose

To check this pious haste of erring duty.

'My books command me to lay bare The secret thou art bent on keeping; Here must a high attest be given, What Bridegroom was for her ordained by Heaven;

And in my glass significants there are Of things that may to gladness turn this weeping.

"For this, approaching, One by One, Thy Knights must touch the cold hand of the Virgin;

So, for the favoured One, the Flower may bloom

Once more; but, if unchangeable her doom,

If life departed be for ever gone, Some blessed assurance, from this cloud emerging,

"May teach him to bewail his loss; Not with a grief that, like a vapour, rises And melts; but grief devout that shall endure

And a perpetual growth secure

Of purposes which no false thought shall

cross

A harvest of high hopes and noble enterprises."

"So be it," said the King;-"anon, Here, where the Princess lies, begin the trial;

Knights each in order as ye stand
Step forth."-To touch the pallid hand
Sir Agravaine advanced; no sign he won
From Heaven or Earth ;-Sir Kaye had
like denial.

Abashed, Sir Dinas turned away;
Even for Sir Percival was no disclosure;
Though he, devoutest of all Champions,

ere

He reached the ebon car, the bier

What patient confidence was here!
And there how many bosoms panted!
While drawing toward the Car Sir Ga-
waine, mailed

For tournament, his Beaver vailed,
And softly touched; but, to his princely
cheer

And high expectancy, no sign was granted.

Next, disencumbered of his harp,

Sir Tristram, dear to thousands as a brother,

Came to the proof, nor grieved that there ensued

No change; the fair Izonda he had wooed

With love too true, a love with pangs too sharp,

From hope too distant, not to dread another.

Not so Sir Launcelot ;-from Heaven's grace

A sign he craved, tired slave of vain contrition;

The royal Guinever looked passing glad When his touch failed.-Next came Sir Galahad;

Belief sank deep into the crowd That he the solemn issue would determine.

Nor deem it strange; the Youth had worn
That very mantle on a day of glory,
The day when he achieved that matchless
feat,

The marvel of the PERILOUS Seat, Which whosoe'er approached of strength was shorn,

Though King or Knight the most renowned in story.

He touched with hesitating hand,

And lo! those Birds, far-famed through Love's dominions,

The Swans, in triumph clap their wings; And their necks play, involved in rings, Like sinless snakes in Eden's happy land;

"Mine is she," cried the Knight;—again they clapped their pinions.

"Mine was she-mine she is, though dead, And to her name my soul shall cleave in sorrow;"

Whereat, a tender twilight streak Of colour dawned upon the Damsel's cheek;

And her lips, quickening with uncertain red,

Seemed from each other a faint warmth to

borrow.

Deep was the awe, the rapture high,

Of love emboldened, hope with dread entwining,

When, to the mouth, relenting Death
Allowed a soft and flower-like breath,
Precursor to a timid sigh,

vision.

For late, as near a murmuring stream He rested 'mid an arbour green and shady, Nina, the good Enchantress, shed A light around his mossy bed; And, at her call, a waking dream Prefigured to his sense the Egyptian Lady.

Now, while his bright-haired front he bowed,

And stood, far-kenned by mantle furred with ermine,

As o'er the insensate Body hung

The enrapt, the beautiful, the young,

In silence did King Arthur gaze

Upon the signs that pass away or tarry; In silence watched the gentle strife Of Nature leading back to life; Then eased his Soul at length by praise Of God, and Heaven's pure Queen-the blissful Mary.

Then said he, "Take her to thy heart Sir Galahad! a treasure that God giveth, Bound by indissoluble ties to thee Through mortal change and immortality; Be happy and unenvied, thou who art A goodly Knight that hath no Peer that liveth!"