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

The murderer for their Lord,

And he, the rightful heir, possessed
The house of Erlingford.

The ancient house of Erlingford
Stood midst 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
To gaze on Severn's stream;

In

every wind that swept its waves

He heard

young Edmund scream.

In vain at midnight's silent hour
Sleep closed the murderer's eyes,
In every dream the murderer saw
Young Edmund's form arise.

In vain by restless conscience driven Lord William left his home,

Far from the scenes that saw his guilt,

In pilgrimage to roam.

To other climes the pilgrim fled,
But could not fly despair,

He sought his home again, but peace

Was still a stranger there.

Each hour was tedious long, 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
Return without dismay,

For well had conscience kalendered

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.

In vain Lord William sought the feast
In vain he quaff'd the bowl,

And strove with noisy mirth to drown
The anguish of his soul.

The tempest as its sudden swell

In gusty howlings came,

With cold and death-like feelings seem'd To thrill his shuddering frame.

Reluctant now, as night came on,
His lonely couch he prest,

And wearied out, he sunk to sleep,
To sleep, but not to rest.

Beside that couch his brother's form
Lord Edmund seem'd to stand,

Such and so pale as when in death

He grasp'd his brother's hand;

Such and so pale his face as when
With faint and faltering tongue,

To William's care, a dying charge
He left his orphan son.

"I bade thee with a father's love

My orphan Edmund guard

Well William hast thou kept thy charge! Now take thy due reward."

He started up, each limb convuls'd

With agonizing fear,

He only heard the storm of night

"Twas music to his ear.

When lo! the voice of loud alarm

His inmost soul appals,

What ho! Lord William rise in haste!

The water saps thy walls!