But there were none to help her, none to guide;-- And he, the man who should have taught the soul, Wish’d but the body in his base control. She left her infant on the Sunday morn, A creature doom’d to shame! in sorrow born; A thing that languished, nor arrived at age When the man’s thoughts with sin and pain engage-- She came not home to share our humble meal, 420 Her father thinking what his child would feel From his hard sentence--still she came not home. The night grew dark, and yet she was not come; The east-wind roar’d, the sea return’d the sound, And the rain fell as if the world were drown’d; There were no lights without, and my good man, To kindness frighten’d, with a groan began To talk of Ruth, and pray; and then he took The Bible down, and read the holy book; For he had learning; and when that was done 430 We sat in silence--whither could we run? We said, and then rush’d frighten’d from the door, For we could bear our own conceit no more; We call’d on neighbours--there she had not been; We met some wanderers--ours they had not seen; We hurried o’er the beach, both north and south, Then join’d, and wander’d to our haven’s mouth, Where rush’d the falling waters wildly out: I scarcely heard the good man’s fearful shout, Who saw a something on the billow ride, 440 And ‘Heaven have mercy on our sins!’ he cried, ‘It is my child!’ and to the present hour So he believes--and spirits have the power. And she was gone! the waters wide and deep Roll’d o’er her body as she lay asleep. She heard no more the angry waves and wind, She heard no more the threatening of mankind; Wrapt in dark weeds, the refuse of the storm, To the hard rock was borne her comely form! But O! what storm was in that mind? what strife, 450 That could compel her to lay down her life? For she was seen within the sea to wade, By one at distance, when she first had pray’d; Then to a rock within the hither shoal Softly and with a fearful step she stole; Then, when she gain’d it, on the top she stood A moment still--and dropt into the flood! The man cried loudly, but he cried in vain-- She heard not then--she never heard again! She had--pray, Heav’n!--she had that world in sight, 460 Where frailty mercy finds, and wrong has right; But, sure, in this her portion such has been, Well had it still remain’d a world unseen!’ Thus far the dame: the passions will dispense To such a wild and rapid eloquence-- Will to the weakest mind their strength impart, And give the tongue the language of the heart.” TALES OF THE HALL. BOOK VI. _ADVENTURES OF RICHARD, CONCLUDED._