That instant as the murderer spake There came a sudden light; Strong as the mid-day sun it shone, Though all around was night: It hung upon the willow tree, It gave to view the poplar isle, The traveller who journies there, He'surely hath espied A madman who has made his home Upon the river's side. His cheek is pale, his eye is wild, For Jaspar since that hour has made His home unshelter'd there. And fearful are his dreams at night, He thinks upon his untold crime, And never dares to pray. The summer suns, the winter storms, O'er him unheeded roll, For heavy is the weight of blood Upon the maniac's soul! 1798. LORD WILLIAM. No eye beheld when William plunged Young Edmund in the stream, No human ear but William's heard Young Edmund's drowning scream. Submissive all the vassals own'd And he as rightful heir possess'd The ancient house of Erlingford Stood in a fair domain, And Severn's ample waters near Roll'd through the fertile plain. And often the way-faring man Would love to linger there, Forgetful of his onward road, To gaze on scenes so fair. But never could Lord William dare In To gaze on Severn's stream; every wind that swept its waves He heard young Edmund scream. In vain at midnight's silent hour In Sleep closed the murderer's eyes, every dream the murderer saw In vain by restless conscience driven Lord William left his home, Far from the scenes that saw his guilt, To other climes the pilgrim fled, He sought his home again, but peace Was still a stranger there. Slow were all passing hours, yet swift The months appear'd to roll; And now the day return'd that shook With terror William's soul. A day that William never felt For well had conscience kalendar'd Young Edmund's dying day. A fearful day was that! the rains Fell fast with tempest roar, And the swoln tide of Severn spread Far on the level shore. |