"Welcome the wild, imperfect rest, Which these bewilder'd spirits share! Welcome this tumult of the breast, After the shudder of despair! "My Robert he is brave and strong, He will these flowing tears reprove. Alas! how little know the young, The tremor of a Mother's love. "For we are weak from many a care, From many a sleepless, anxious hour, When fear and hope the bosom tear, And ride the brain with fevering power. "But lo! he cheerly waves his hand! I hear his voice! I see his face! And eager now he springs to land, To meet a Mother's fond embrace! "This failing heart! but joy to me, If heaven in pity is thy guard; And of the pangs I feel for thee, Protection be the dear reward!" * * * * * EDGAR AND ELLEN. "Arrest thy steps! On these sad plains, Fair dame, no farther go! But listen to the martial strains, Whose wildness speaks of woe! Hark! strife is forward on the field, I hear the trumpet's bray! Now spear to spear, and shield to shield, Decides the dreadful day! Unfit for thee, oh! Lady fair! The scenes where men engage; Thy gentle spirit could not bear The fearful battle's rage." "I prithee, stranger, let me fly! Though pallid is my cheek, The lightning's flash delights my eye, I love the thunder's break. And oft beneath our castle tow'rs, When tempests rush'd along, My steady hand has painted flowers, Or voice has rais'd the song." "Oh Lady! that bewilder'd eye Is red with recent tears; Already that heart-startling sigh Proclaims thy anxious fears. Then let a stranger's words prevail, Nor thus in danger roam! Here many frightful ills assail, But safety is at home!" "No, in some peasant's lowly cot Perhaps she may abide, To consecrate the humble spot, But not where I reside. In Hubert's halls, my father's foe, From childhood have I dwelt, And for his wily murderer too, A filial fondness felt. Ah me! how often have I press'd The lips which seal'd his doom! How oft the cruel hand caress'd Which sent him to the tomb! My nurse reveal'd the dreadful truth, And, as she told the tale, A sickly blight pass'd o'er my youth, And turn'd its roses pale. The heavy secret on my heart Like deadly poison prey'd; For she forbade me to impart A word of what she said. I, who so blithely sung before, So peacefully had slept, Fancied gaunt murder at the door, And listen'd, shook, and wept. No longer with an open smile, I greeted all around; My fearful looks were fix'd the while, In terror on the ground.