I've now turn'd wild, a commoner of Nature; Of all forsaken, and forsaking all.
"SAY, wanderer, why with cheek so pale, With thin hairs white as mountain snow, Dost thou still haunt this lonely vale,
When the chilly winds of Autumn blow? Why is the cold damp earth thy bed, That daisied sod thy nightly pillow; With the fogs of heaven around thy head, And thy canopy the leafless willow? I fain would prove myself a friend,
My home is near, my heart is warm; My Anna's smile with mine shall blend, And Beauty's blush thy sorrows charm." His hoary head the old man rais'd, And wildly on the speaker gaz'd; Strange fires were sparkling in his eye: In notes akin to agony
He thus began: "I would not scorn The heart that feels for one forlorn; But leave me alone to linger here; The world has nothing that I hold dear! Of Friendship I hate to hear the sound, For it tears afresh a rankling wound; To Beauty my heart has long been cold; Yet I was young, though you see me old; Then Woman's smile and melting eye- But why should I speak of the days gone by?"
He paus'd, while deep his dark brow gloom'd, Then glanced around, and thus resum'd "My clan and kindred, name and birth, I fain would blot them from the earth! Though shepherds, who frequent the glen, Call me the Laird of Lumley-den ;
A barren waste-a dreary spot, Where I would hide, by all forgot; Yet I beheld life's morning shine,
When youth, and hope, and wealth were mine.
'Twas then my heart was doom'd to prove The stern omnipotence of love;
And I beheld, in Ellen's eyes, A brighter fire, a richer prize, Than ever Grecian painter drew, Or Fancy sketch'd to poet's view; But there are proud ambitious sires, Whose hearts forget their former fires; My Ellen was a cottage maid- And mine, in wrath, our loves forbade.
"Rebellion's voice was heard afar, "Twixt King and Clans intestine war: My father, scorning king and law, Now call'd on me the sword to draw. I own the cause to me was dear, And coward' hateful to my ear; My sire, a despot in his will; But Ellen's love was dearer still!
"I sought, and found her-told my taleHer bosom heav'd, her cheeks grew pale.
And why,' cried I, should fate divide? Confirm your love, and be my bride !' She blush'd-I urged-entreated-press'd- She gave her hand-and we were bless'd! I gaz'd on all her glowing charms, While virgin blushes bless'd my arms; Drank light and life from her bright eye, While rapture breath'd in every sigh.
"But man must taste the cup of woe, And mine was doom'd to overflow; It was a bitter draught—and I, Alas! have drain'd the goblet dry; But still the chalice fills again;
I drink and still the dregs remain ; My brain it burns-my heart it thrills- It maddens-wounds-but never kills! And Death, whose hand could bring relief, Still stands aloof, and mocks my grief!
Stranger, why does your cheek grow pale? 'Tis but the prelude to my tale;
Your ears will tingle, and your heart will swell, As you list to hear what I must tell ;
But leave me not-for you've touch'd the string,
And loud in your ear the notes shall ring
Notes of woe, that might wake the dead!
He who sleeps on a clay cold-bed ;
She who rests in a grassy tomb,
Where the woodbine waves, and wild flowers bloom; And the little cherub, with bright blue eye,
Who sits on the white cloud gliding by!
When will they wake? must they sleep for ever?
And when shall I rest? they answer, Never!"
"Where stood my tale?-In Eden fair! My bride-my Ellen, smiling there; But the destroying angel pass'd,
And we from Paradise were cast;
From bowers of bliss-down, down, we fell;
Aye, deeper far than tongue can tell.
"One little week had pass'd away,
While we in Love's Elysium lay;
and ages circling round,
With bliss like ours can ne'er be crown'd!
The Rebel Clans the signal gave,
I saw the floating banner wave; With tingling ears, and panting breath, I heard the clang-the note of death, Which forced me to the field of strife, From her, to me more dear than life. My hour was come-I must away; "Twas death to go, and worse to stay; But Ellen could not tarry there, And she must hide-I knew not where. I had a friend-let me be cool! I was a weak, confiding fool! To him, in faithful charge, was given My love-my life-my all of heaven!
I drank the tears that dew'd her cheek- We sigh'd the woes we could not speak ; I clasp'd her to my throbbing breast; Her lips in frenzied rapture press'd; Then tore myself from Ellen's arms, And madly rush'd to war's alarms!
"I stop not here, our rout to trace, Till Victory lured us to disgrace; As little may I pause, to tell
What Clans and Kinsmen fought and fell, How broad-swords flash'd and helmets rang- Of keen claymores, like lightning gleaming— The rolling drum-the trumpet's twang-
Of mangled limbs and life-blood streaming- The thundering cannon's deafening roar, And death, like showery hail, thick flying- Of wretches writhing in their gore,
The groans of those in anguish dying How bones beneath his hoofs were crash'd, When fierce, the furious war-horse dash'd! Of these, if you delight to hear,
If such are music to your ear, Go, read of red Culloden's heath, And wander o'er that field of death; Though hush'd are now the dying groans, You still may see the whitening bones; Through brainless skulls, the whistling wind May call your country's wrongs to mind; And there you'll see the heath-bloom wave Above my father's early grave! Why was not mine the blissful lot To fall with him, and sleep forgot? But I had pray'd, amidst the strife, That Heaven would yet prolong my life; For still, in death's most dread alarms, My fond heart mus'd on Ellen's charms. In wrath was heard my impious prayer, And I was spar'd, a load to bear- A load which time can never lighten,
In midnight shades, which ne'er can brighten; And, deeper still, the gathering gloom Will thicken round me to the tomb.
"Forgive my wildly wandering brainI had forgot my tale again;
Though day and night it haunts my mind, Around my heart with horror twin'd.
"Ay, 'twas Drummossie's field of blood That crush'd the cause for which I stood; Left me, on earth, to mourn alone, My father, fame, and fortune gone;
An exile, driven by cursed war,
From friends, and home, and Ellen far!
-On land pursued, on ocean toss'd,
I roam'd, till all but hope was lost.
And tender was the tale he wove, Which told of Ellen's health and love. He wrote again, and wish'd me joy, The parent of a lovely boy!` Are you a parent?-you will know The fond delight, the fervid glow, That shot through all my raptur'd frame! If you are not-my words were tame; A husband's and a father's love Are feelings Fancy ne'er can prove.
"Time stole apace—I heard no more Of Ellen, and my heart was sore; I wrote and wrote, but no reply; Suspense increas'd to agony : Day after day my bosom burn'd; At last, disguis'd, I home return'd, While Hope and Fear contending strove, I forward press'd, impell'd by love. I reach'd my friend's-the hour was late- And enter'd softly, blind to fate- To see-oh! horror to my sight! Oh! fatal hour!-accursed night!- My Ellen leaning on his breast! His lips her cheek with rapture press'd! They started both, in dumb surprise- Rage, fire, and fury, fill'd my eyes; 'Ellen!' I cried, vile, perjur'd wife!' And from the table grasp'd a knife; With up-rais'd arm, I forward rush'd, He sprung aside, then strongly push'd Me back; I stumbled-fell,
With mutter'd words, unmeet to tell! Against a corner struck my head, And light and all but life was fled. I woke and wondering, rose again, With aching head and whirling brain; Confus'd-amaz'd-I gaz'd around, My senses in oblivion drown'd; But memory soon recall'd the whole, And woke the tempest in my soul. Transfix'd with rage, I stood alone; Hector and Ellen both were gone. From room to room I ran with speed, My bosom steel'd to ruthless deed: I search'd in vain, for they were fled; But curtains wav'd around a bed; "Twas hell to think that Ellen's charms Might there have bless'd a villain's arms! I foam'd-I stamp'd-the curtain drew- A blooming infant met my view; The child, alarm'd, a stranger saw, And frighten'd, cried, Come here, Papa!' I, for a moment, gazing stood;
But madness fir'd my boiling blood; 'Vile imp of hell!' I wildly cried, And writh'd its neck-it gasp'd-and died!
"As springs the tyger from his lair, I, furious, sought the guilty pair ; How long, or where, I cannot tell, My brain was fir'd-my heart was hell!
We met at last-no more to part; My arm was strong-I pierc'd his heart! "Twas on that spot-See! there his bed- His blood has dyed the brown heath red; Though long, long years have linger'd by, Still, still it waves, in purple dye; Nor winter's frost, nor snow, nor rain, Nor summer's dew, can bleach the stain! Yet I laugh'd till echoes round me rang, When his heart-blood on my bosom sprang! And groan'd, because my faithless bride Lay not as sound asleep beside!
I turn'd to go, but heard a sound, Which seem'd to shake the hills around; Like thunder bursting on the ear,
It said, 'Your home-your grave is here! Your hand has seal'd a sinner's doom, Untimely hurried to the tomb !'
"With bitter tears (for I then could weep,) I dug his grave-it was dark and deep; At dead of night I laid his head- With trembling hands his turf I spread; At morn, I saw the heath-bell wave, Still wet with blood, above his grave! I wish'd to fly-but it could not be, Fate still had greater woes for me; By day, compell'd to watch and weep; At night, to rave-afraid to sleep.
"One day I gaz'd on the fiery sun, 'Midst gathering clouds of murky dun; He seem'd to weep in tears of blood; And hoarsely murmur'd the distant flood; Red lightnings shot from their secret bed, While thunders bellow'd around my head, Till they seem'd to shake the vault of heav'n- The brown-heath blaz'd, and the rocks were riven! I look'd around, and beheld a form, Whose loud laugh mingled with the storm; It seem'd a woman, with bosom bare; Her eye was bright as the light'ning's glare; Her cheek was pale, and her garments torn; She clapp'd her hands, and laugh'd in scorn. Oh God!—that laugh!-my soul it shook! It thrill'd my heart-and I paus'd to look- One dreadful glance the maniac cast! My heart it froze at the with'ring blast- 'Twas Ellen!
* * wildly she glanced again, And my blood run chill in every vein ! On me she gaz'd-then her arms she spread, With a shriek that might have wak'd the dead, And cried, Come, love! let me clasp thy form! Camest thou here on the mountain storm? I know thee well-poor, wand'ring sprite! Why didst thou leave the fields of light? I had forgot-but now I know- It was to seek thy bride below; But she was left alone, forsaken! From dreams of bliss, in grief to waken.
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