Belvedder, Baron Kolff, etc

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a&eltoetitrer, BARON KOLFF, &c. BY THOMAS EAGLES, AUTHOR OF " MOUNTAIN MELODIES," &c LONDON : WHITTAKER & CO., AVE MARIA LANE. MDCCCXXXVII. TO WILLIAM WALLACE CURRIE, Esq. THESE 5?©Zi5M^ ARE HUMBLY INSCRIBED, B\ HIS MUCH OBLIGED AND MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT, THOMAS EAGLES. t CONTENTS. Page RELVEDDER . ...Canto I ! II 38 HI 78 IV 118 BARON KOLFF.. Canto 1 149 II 16ti III 173 IV 189 SONNET— EVENING 201 WHEN THE DEWS ARE FALLING 202 SONNET— THE DAISY 205 EDGAR 208 MIDNIGHT 209 THE EXILE 211 SONG 214 BENEATH YON SHADOWY CYPRESS TREES 216 YON ANCIENT ASH, SO OLD AND PALE 218 SONNET— MORNING 221 AND THOU WILT JOIN THE GLITTERING THRONG 222 ARMINA— Canto 1 225 II 2*36 FAREWELL RELVEDDER. i. Where rolling billows lash the barren shore, And rocks on rocks in gloomy grandeur rise, Where humid clouds their wat'ry burdens pour, And wildly journey through the dismal skies, Where thunders roar and sheeted lightnings fly, And howling Boreas winds his deaf 'ning horn, A man's oft seen in sadness passing by, Casting on all an eye of bitter scorn As slowly wand'ring on regardless of the storm.

II. With eyes cast down and tott'ring careless pace, He holds his course along the line of sand, O'er whose smooth breast the restless waters race, And leap and curl in foaming circles grand ; 1: Then mounts the craggy cliff's tall spireing height, And 'neath a lonely fir he takes his seat, And vacant gazes on the billows bright Which underneath in frightful roarings break, And madly onward press with fury up the steep. III. At times his eye with anger flashes fierce ; His hands are clench'd, convulsions heave his frame He draws his dirk as if about to pierce His heart, and close his wretched, mortal reign His teeth arc set — the starting sweat-drops roll, And chase each other down his wrinkl'd brow. Corroding grief seems wrapp'd around his soul — Some dire calamity ! — some dreadful blow Hath burst full o'er his head its heavy weight of woe ! — IV.

Anon, his anger seemeth to subside, And from his eye starts forth the shining tear ; He casts his gaze around the prospect wide As if in search of something to him dear. Callous as rock, on which he heedless sits, For hours his sight will scan the distant waves ; Fearless around the timid sea-bird flits; Huge billows thunder in the hollow caves ; Yet moves he not the while, tho' wrathful tempest raves. v. Why braves he thus the lashing tempest's might ? Why court the storm like barren ocean rock ? Why doth he strain his anxious, steadfast sight Far o'er the waves which in the rude wind rock ? Why leave the haunts of men for sterile shore ? Why rave at midnight to the heedless moon ? Why court the elements' discordant roar, And fly sweet songs and music's gladd'ning tune ? 'Tis strange 'tis strange I trow ! but thou wilt know full soon.

Canto I. Relvedder

9 XX. It came to pass upon one dreadful morn, (When howling Boreas swept across the sky, And hills of water furiously were borne With rush impetuous o'er the black rocks high) A noble vessel bending 'neath the blast Was seen to roll her heavy form along, Her sails were rent and flutter'd round the mast As hard she labour'd lashing seas among, Whilst through the dismal sky the thunder rattled long, XXI. And anxious men gazed o'er the creeking side, Straining their sight across the boiling deep ; Pallid with fear they eyed the billows ride, And o'er their bark in madd'ning fury leap. And there were women clinging to the shroud, And, as the sea upon the broadside broke, Their piercing screams re-echoed long and loud, Surrounding cliffs in answ'ring echoes spoke, Then faintly died away, then suddenly awoke.

XXII. The wind grew stronger — fiercer beat the storm — Peal followed peal, and flash succeeded flash ; The bending masts were from their stations torn, And overboard did headlong rattling crash : c Wild shrieks and curses mingled with the roar Of rushing waters, dreadful to the ear ! The boding sea-bird round about did soar — 'Twas known to all that death was hov'ring near — The bravest were unnerv'd, their hearts beat quick with fear, XXIII. The smugglers saw her from their secret hold, And from the first the oldest seaman said, A few short hours and those warm hearts will cold Be at the bottom of the ocean bed ! They tried, but all in vain, to lend her aid ; They launch'd their boat, and battled with the sea — Alas ! alas ! upon the rock she's laid, Whilst through the storm loud cries of misery Pierce the fierce tempest's roar — drear moans of agony !

XXIV. The rolling carry flew athwart the sky, Thick showers of hail rode on the sweeping blast ; The smugglers vainly at the strong oars ply, Again, again, they're 'mongst the breakers cast. Anon they strive to stem the furious rush Of bursting billows — heedlessly they strive — With strong excitement their hard features flush, As from the vessel helplessly they drive. " By heav'n all hope is lost ! we cannot save their lives !" RELVEDDER. 11

CANTO I. XXV.

And when on board they saw the boat depart, And make its way despairing to the shore, Oh ! what deep horror struck each wretched heart ! What groans, and sighs, and orisons they pour ! Oh ! then what thoughts crept thro' their teeming mind, Of anxious friends, who waited their return, Fond lovers, sisters, doting mothers kind ! — The god nubiferous did their anguish spurn, And o'er their helpless heads blew loud his awful horn. XXVI. The smugglers paced the bleak and sterjle beach, In hopes that they might some assistance give ; They threw out ropes — alas ! they could not reach The heavy-beating wreck — No boat could live In such a surge — Drear night was closing fast ; And still the storm had no abatement made. At times they saw poor suff'ring sailors cast O'er the dark side — then sink beneath the shade Of the huge dismal rock on which the vessel laid.

XXVII. The night had closed — a dreadful night to see ; And still could they discern, by lightning's flash, The vessel heaving — rolling helplessly Upon the rocks, and hear the awful crash As down she fell upon their pointed head In frightful beatings, heavy, dull and loud ; Whilst o'er her bow the smoth'ring billows sped, And thunder rattled through the sable cloud, And flames of hissing fire shot thro' night's duskv shroud XXVIII. RiiLVEDDER sat within his spacious hall, Listing the storm that bellow'd loud with ire ; He heard the rain in streaming torrents fall, The thunder's voice, and saw the lightning's fire. He thought of those compel I'd to track the sea, And journey o'er the waste of waters great — His soul o'erflow'd with tender sympathy — "What hearts arc sadden'd, and what fond friends weep For those who leave their homes to court the faithless deep XXIX.

Deceitful element ! o'er thy waters skim The light refreshing breeze — Oh ! beauteous scene ! Thy playful wavelets with their silver rim Sailing so sweetly o'er wide beds of green — Thy sparkling bosom and thy gurgling note ; The shining gems that gleam the rocks between ; The snowy birds that o'er thy surface float ; The wide blue sky, the sun's delighting beam, Lure the glad heart away, and tempt us to the stream. But when once there, how soon the aspects change ! The sun retires, the glowing beams depart : Huge heavy clouds around the concave range, And from repose the rising billows start : Strong gusts of wind at intervals burst forth, And distant howlings speak the coming storms ; A ray of light is resting in the north ; The sky assumes grotesque, fantastic forms ; The watchful sailors quake, their hearts beat with alarms.

XXXI. And so oft end the fairest thoughts of earth — The brilliant hopes — the visions sweet with joy — They're but the harbingers of sorrow's birth, The bright forerunners of the anguish'd sigh. The clearest mom precedes the blackest day ; The purest joys are follow'd by despair ; The fondest hopes that round our fancies play Leave naught behind but heart-corroding care ; A dismal prospect drear for what seem'd bright and fair !" — XXXII. Thus mused Relvedder — when his ear was caught By a faint groan, that spoke distress at hand ; He wonder'd much — Again it came — He thought It might be some one from the smuggler band ; RELVEDDER. < ANTO i 14 its For no one else, he knew, resided near ; The coast was barren — habitations few — Again it came, and did so close appear, That swiftly through the spacious hall he flew, And from the heavy locks the pond'rous bolts be drew XXXIII.

The massy door he quickly open'd wide, And strain'd his sight into the gloom without ; The wild wind roar'd as if 'twould ne'er subside ; With anxious gaze he cast his eyes about, But nothing met his glance save pallid fire, Hissing and darting through the robe of night. The groan again ! — He scarcely coidd respire — A human fonn now struck his wond'ring sight, Stretch'd on the soaking earth, whose soul seem'd near flight. XXXIV. He raised it up, and gazed upon the face ; He called for lights, he summon'd all within : No sign of life could good Relvedder trace ; A ghastly corse it seem'd — The livid skin As if by frequent blows was bruised and rent ; His splendid robes (for he appear'd of rank) Were soiled and torn, and as the good man bent In kindness o'er, his heart within him sank, As kneeling by his side, amongst the tall grass dank.

CANTO I. RELVEDDER.

15 XXXV. They rais'd the hapless man — they bore him quick Unto the hall — removed his dripping clothes : Relvedder's wife, sweet guardian of the sick, In kindness nursed him — put him to repose ; And watch'd his ev'ry move with anxious care ; They marvell'd much who could the stranger be : Again, again, they'd to his couch repair; They liked his aspect, fair it was to see, Such nobleness appear'd in its fine symmetry. XXXVI. A many days elapsed ere he revived — Delirium reign'd — He raved about the sea ; Of drowning men contending for their lives ; Of hollow groans, and dreadful agony ; Of storms and thunder, rocks, and beds of sand ; Of sinking ships, and overwhelming wave ; Of pallid corses drifting to the land, For whom no pitying hand was stretch'd to save, But helpless left to sink, and find an ocean grave.

XXXVII. And oh ! it grieved them sorely to behold So much of beauty lying helpless there ! To see his eyes in madd'ning flashes roll'd And gaze upon them with unmeaning glare ; Then fainting fall upon his restless bed, And sigh, and moan, so pensive and so low — Alas ! alas ! at times they thought him dead ! Then down his cheeks the burning tears would flow, And his broad chest would throb with sad convulsive throe. XXXVIII. At length by slow degTces his health return 'd ; The colour mantled o'er his handsome cheek ; His jet-black eye in gratitude was turn'd On those who succour'd him — they did bespeak The inward workings of his grateful mind, And told how much he priz'd their goodness, worth ; The loving friends, the benefactors kind, Who gave him refuge in this gloomy earth, When sorrow hemm'd him round, and woe had taken birth ! xxxix.

One summer's eve, when all was hush'd and still, And nature's brow was tranquil and serene, When naught was heard save purling of the rill That sweetly glided 'neath the emerald screen, Unto a bow'r o'crhung with roses bright, And mantled round with aromatic trees, Relvedder did his much-lov'd guest invite To spend an hour and catch the soothing breeze, Which o'er the placid scene came dancing from the seas. RELVEDDER. 17

CANTO I. XL.

And, as they rested 'neath the fragrant shade, And mark'd the sun declining o'er the sea, On whose wide breast the burnish'd streamers play'd, And ting'd the gliding waves so beauteously ; Relvedder said — " My dearest friend — come, tell (We're all impatience, courteous Sir, to hear) Upon that dreadful night what you befel — Relate thy life, it will the moments cheer :" His wife and beauteous child in eagerness drew near. XLI. Thus spake the stranger, as his piercing eye In rapture rested on the maiden's face ; (From his full heart escaped the tender sigh ; He'd ne'er beheld such loveliness and grace In all his travels, never yet had seen A form so exquisite, so sweet a mien : He gazed, and gazed, as he had ravish'd been. Her laughing eyes were as the eve-star's gleam, When at day's closing hour it glistens o'er the stream.)

XLII. Thus then he spake : — " My country's o'er the sea — That earthly paradise — that land of flow'r Adored by all — soul-soothing Italy ! Oh ! 'tis the seat of nature's utmost pow'r ! D The paragon of excellence ! — the bow'r of love ! Where all is heavenly, exquisite and grand ! What sweet emotions the fond bosom move, Beholding thee, thou sweet romantic land ! Thy wide pellucid lakes — thy gentle breezes bland ! XLIII. Thy dark-hair'd daughters, lovely to behold, With heaving bosoms, beating with desire How far superior to the glances cold Of northern dames, those glowing looks of fire ! There love in all its glory holds its reign, Uncheck'd, unlimited — devoid of art — No forms, or rules, the tender maids constrain ; No hated affectation, for the heart Spcaketh its hopes and fears, and love's sweet tear-drops start XL1V. Thy pale blue mountains, ignorant of storms, Piercing the sky, so glowing, rich and bright ; In shapes fantastic, rear their stately forms, Placid and tranquil, smiling with delight ; Thy purple vineyards, and thy fragrant bow'rs ; Thy plains of verdure — waving woods and dells The rich perfume that on the zephvr pours; The plaintive music of thy vesper bells — Oh ! land of joy and love, all other thou excels !

CANTO I. RELVEDDER

19 XLV. 'Twas there I drew my breath — in that fair scene My childhood's days were pass'd — Oh ! happy days ! From thy dear haunts a wand'rer long I've been Roaming the earth, and witnessing the ways Of vain far-reaching man — ambition's tool ! Pompous and proud — poor grov'lling bit of earth ! The sport of time and fortune's plaything — fool ! Grasping at vapour, in whose soul's a dearth Of sweet content and peace — dark wretchedness has birth ! XLVI. My father was a soldier. — Oh ! that men Can't live in peace, without the blast of war ! Dread harbinger of woe ! — what horrors then Would leave the earth. — Thy sanguine car, Thy implements of strife — Oh ■' hated Mars ! Thy cannon's thunder, and thy hollow groans ; Thy death-wounds dire — thy gaping grumous scars ; The parting spirit's plaintive dying moans — Fell desolating God ! blighter of joys and homes !

XLVII. A braver man ne'er wielded sword or lance — His cry was glory — valour was his theme ! The din of war he lov'd — his piercing glance Upon the gath'ring foe would wildly gleam With look undaunted ; and the charger's neigh Rejoiced him more than music's gladd'ning sound, As wild with fury, rushing, sweeping, they O'er the drear field did wreckful, madly bound Thro" the thinn'd broken ranks, inflicting death around. XLVIII. At length Moranto ('twas my father's name) Was ta'en in battle, and a captive made By Don Laruto, fierce as lightning flame. — His brilliant sun had set — dark fortune's shade Had mantled o'er him — His proud soul arose At thoughts of such debasement — how he burn'd To show'r revenge upon his hated foes ! Alas ! alas ! the tide of war had turn'd, And o'er his shatter'd hopes the captive soldier mourn'd. XL1X. My sire he hated, dreaded and despised ; It joy'd him much to have him 'neath his pow'r ; What law of arms and manners authorised He heeded not, but did his vengeance pour With malice great — his limbs with chains he bound, And cast him down into a gloomy cell, Dismal and damp, with nothing save the ground On which to rest on — light he did expel, And left him helpless there where naught but vermin dwell RELVEDDER. 21

CANTO I.

L. Thus then he lay, shut out from heav'n's sweet light, Refreshing air, and nature's fair domain : Around his cell he cast his useless sight, Darkness alone there held its solemn reign. o A noxious, putrid vapour, dank and foul, Roll'd thro' the vault its foetid sick'ning smell, And ever and anon the sonorous toll, The cadence deep of the old castle bell, Re-echo'd thro' the vaults as if it rang his knell. LI. Oh ! it is galling to the noble heart To be confined by savage brutal pow'r ; Helpless to pine, from dearest friends apart, And drag unpitied thro' the tedious hour ; To have the limbs enclosed with hateful chains, Their constant rattling grating thro' the soul, Whilst callous gaolers, laughing, mock your pains, And greet your ears with oaths, and language foul, Then o'er the iron door the massy bars they roll.

LII. Oh ! then what longings fill the teeming mind ! What recollections crowd the musing brain ! What we thought curses once — alas ! we find Were blessings pure and sweet, and we would fain Now hold communion with them — feel again The pleasures we then felt, and thought were woe. Man knows not blessings till away they're ta'en ! Until he's felt some sharper, keener blow, He knows not good from ill in this dark vale below ! LIU. Time roll'd along, and yet Moranto lay In this vile spot, dejected and forlorn ; He knew not day from night, the night from day, The burnished ev'ning from the crimson morn. And, as he heard the heavy echoing sound Of guards and gaolers pacing near his cell, He sprang unconscious from the mildew' d ground, He thought the tyrant (hated fiend of hell •') Was there with tortures dire and executioner fell.

Liv. And yet no plaint escaped him — calm and still He waited bravely for the fatal word — lie knew he lay at Don Laruto's will — Th' assassin dark, detested and abhorr'd ! And, as he raised his stately warlike form From off the ground, and clash'd his fetter'd hands, " Come on, Laruto ! hurl the utmost storm Of thy soul's fury — bring thy ruffian bands — I hear await thy wrath. — Moranto fearless stands ! Come •' bring the hatchet — bring the strangling cord ! I will not shrink, nor quake before thy might ; I'll hear unmov'd the final signal word, And scorn thee, tyrant ! as my soul takes flight. A soldier I have liv d, as one I'll die ! Only one pang would then shoot thro' my heart, That I did not upon the war-field lie, On glory's bed, pierced by the foeman's dart, Among the noble slain, and there with life-blood part."

LVI. But yet they came not — Day by day roll'd on In dull monotony — darkness reign'd around. Alas ! alas ! faint hope was nearly gone — Within his mind did images abound Awful and drear. — Disorder'd was his brain — The solemn silence — so horribly still — Confused his senses — nigh he was insane — Forebodings dreadful to his mind instill, And flit athwart his brain against his reason's will. LVII. The guards at length did one by one depart, Save one weak veteran soldier, feeble, old ; Old tho' he was, he had a callous heart, His features grim the suff ring captive told : RELVEDDER. 24

CANTO I.

And when he brought him food, he tried in vain To make him speak, but all without avail — All gloomy silence — Nor would he explain Aught to the pris'ner — but his ears assail With one deep lengthen'd curse, and scoff'd his hapless tale. LVIII. How prone is man, when clothed with little pow'r, To persecute, and wring the breasts of those Whom fickle fortune in an evil hour Has left to fall ! — Oh ! with what joy he throws The cup of wormwood to their sinking hearts •' When they're declining, how he helps the fall ; To their picre'd bosoms adds a thousand darts ; Mocks the soul's anguish — mocks the plaintive call, And like vile snarling curs, fall on them one and all ! LIX. Thus was Moranto left in sore suspense — He marvell'd much, he knew not what to think ; No friend had he, no weapon of defence Was left to cheer him — he was on the brink Of dark despair — " And shall I never see — Oh ! shall I never, cried the hapless chief, The mother dear who watch'd my infancy, And to my helpless years gave sweet relief — Oh ! heavy, heavy hour ! my heart nigh bursts with grief! — Oh! shall I never more behold the woods Thro' which I've wander'd ? — never more behold The glassy streams ? — the wild contending floods ?

The tow'ring Alps ? — the western rays of gold ? The wide clear sky ? — the tranquil calm of eve ? The restless ocean glist'ning with the light From night's fair queen ? — Must I these beauties leave, For everlasting, dark and cheerless night ? Forbid it heav'n and earth ! — the thought my heart doth blight ! LXI. And shall these hated walls inclose me round, Until I fall beneath pale famine's pow'r, And sink unheeded on the loathsome ground, Unknown to all ? — Oh ! heart-appalling hour ! And shall my wither'd limbs be left to lie In this vile charnal house — this vault of hell ? Ignoble death, in such a spot to die, With no kind friend to catch the last farewell, To cheer the latent hour, and gloomy thoughts expel !" LXII. But just when dark despair, with deadly ire, Was bursting o'er him — when all hope had fled — When those bright eyes were dim, that once were fire, And all his former self within was dead; E Deliv' ranee came, like cheering ray of light That shoots across the tempest's cheerless brow ; Like heav'nly music, creeping on the night, From some far land borne o'er the ocean's flow, And to his wretched mind did thrilling transports throw.

LXIII. 'Twas just as day was sinking into night, And gentle breezes fann'd the rippling sea ; When o'er the hills, Diana, gleaming bright, Cast forth her beam in spotless purity ; And myrtle trees their fragrance wafted o'er The placid lakes, and fill'd the balmy air, And sweetly dipp'd the gondolier's oar, Laruto's daughter, heavenly and fair, Did to the castle-walls in thoughtful mood repair. LXIV. Her lovely eyes surveyed the wide expanse Of skv and ocean — solemn, calm and still — A thoughtfulncss crept o'er her, a sweet trance Enwrapp'd her soul, and did her bosom fill With sweet emotions — Oh ! it was a scene So pure and lovely — so romantic — grand ! It seem'd enchantment! — Rising hills of green Kiss'd the blue wave, whose breast the zephyr fann'd It seem'd the witching work of some great fairy's wand.

CANTO I. RELVEDDER.

27 LXV. And as she paced the battlements of stone, (That rose in gloomy grandeur o'er the wave, Thro' whose high turrets, with sad plaintive moan, Sigh'd the soft wind) and listened to the lave Of curling wavelets, as they glided on In silver circles 'neath the trembling ray, Awhile in sight, then to the ocean gone, Dancing and leaping on their joyous way — In wisp'ring accents sweet thus to her maid did say : — LXVI. " And do you think the captive in yon cell (The warrior captive — Edith, tell me true) Is that Moranto of whom minstrels tell? The noble soldier whose proud banner flew, And flutter'd o'er so many fields of war — The boast of valour, and the theme of song ? Come, tell me what thou think'st ? — Yon burning star Is the sole list'ner — Oh ! for much I long To be inform'd of this — sad fears my bosom throng !"

LXVII. " Indeed, sweet Bertha, must I speak my mind, And tell to thee the secrets of my heart ! He then it is — the noble, good, the kind, Valorous Moranto bound in chains • — You start!" "Howknow'st thou that? — Come, give to me the proof, I'm all impatience — Surely such as he My father ne'er would persecute!" — " Forsooth ! 'Tis brave Moranto pining helplessly Within yon dungeon's gloom — Old Pedro told it me." LXVIII. " May bounteous heav'n preserve the warrior chief! (Cried the sweet maiden, as she clasp'd her hands O'er her white bosom) — Oh ! what heavy grief Must wring his noble heart ! — Where are the bands, The troops of soldiers, and the vet'rans bold, With whom he fought-*— companions of his jov ? — Whv leave him helpless now, when fate has roll'd Its dark shroud o'er him ? — Vile inconstancy !

Why leave your gallant chief in durance here to die ?" LXIX. And this young maiden that deplor'd the youth With such deep ardour, (down whose lovely face The round tears fell like drops of dew,) in sooth, Possessed such beauty, symmetry and grace, That struck with admiration and surprise All who beheld her. — Fair she was to view — The glowing lustre of her beaming eyes Was fascination ! — large they were, and blue, And woe betide the youth on whom their glances flew !

CANTO I. RELVEDDER.

29 LXX. Artless and simple was she — she had ne'er Mix'd with the world, but grew in solitude Like a sweet lily — spotless, pure, and fair, Nurs'd in the wild, with innocence imbued And tender feeling. — Her ambitious sire Kept her secluded — sacred from the gaze Of prying man. — Stern was his look, and fire Of hottest wrath did from his eye-balls blaze, Whene'er she wander'd forth alone at ev'ning's haze. LXXI. A tilt or tournament she never graced, Nor music's votaries, nor sportive throng ; Lonely and restless through the halls she paced, Lofty and gloomy — implements among For battle's use. — Spears, swords, and coats of mail Graced the oak walls — shields, bows, the deadly mace ; And pond'rous halberds, which did oft assail The haughty foe ; and left the reeking trace Of the warm streaming gore upon the battle's face.

LXXII. Thus then she lived, secluded from the world; Devoid of affectation, art or guile : Unto her soul had never been unfuri'd The earth's dark banner — sweetly did she smile RELVEDDER. 30

CANTO I.

In her own happiness. — Shut out from all, Her mind ran wildly in a fond romance ; Bright thoughts of pleasure did her heart inthrall, And thro' her brain did fairy visions dance, And held her captive mind in ecstasy entranced. LXXIII. It joy'd her much in reading legends old, Of minstrels, knights, and ladies fair to see ; Of hapless damsels, haughty barons bold ; Of lovers' sighs, and tears, and constancy; Of broken hearts — of combats fierce and fell ; Of gloomy castles — clangous chains and groans ; Of dismal caves where pallid spectres dwell. Pacing by moonlight past the mildew'd tombs, Whilst thro' the cypress trees the night wind sadly moans, LXXIV. At times lone minstrels would get access Into the castle, and some tale relate Wondrous and wild ; — and songs of loveliness And lute's soft music would her soul awake To sweetest rapture, and her eyes would gleam With joyous lustre, then o'erflow with tears, Like the bright sun's sweet cloud-dispersing beam, Which thro' the changing April sky appears, And with warm glowing ray the gloomy prospect cheers.

Then there was Father Pedro, who would oft On winter ev'nings, when the storm roar'd loud, Relate his youthful prowess. — He had cross'd The fiery prancing steed, and saw the cloud, The dreadful cloud of war rise o'er the land, Frightful and black. — He spoke of bygone times Long fled away — of past adventures grand ; Of contests fierce in foreign burning climes — Until the convent bells did chant the midnight chimes LXXVI. And in the wond'rous tales of other years Moranto's name was dwelt upon : — his race Had been all warriors. — The tender tears Would trickle down the blooming Bertha's face, Like water pearls, in tender sympathy, When hearing of the woe, the bitter pain Which they had suffer'd far, far o'er the sea, Where desolation held its dismal reign, And pallid famine dwelt, and cast its woeful bane !