Oh, I was cheerful as the lark, whose lay Trills through the ether, and awakes the day! Mine was the heartfelt smile, when earliest light Shot through the fading curtain of the night; Mine was the peaceful heart, the modest eye That met the glance, or turn'd it knew not why. At evening hour I struck the melting lyre, Whilst partial wonder fill'd my doating sire, 'Till he would press me to his aged breast, And cry, "My child, in thee my age is blest! Oh! may kind heaven protract my span of life To see my lovely ROSAMUND a wife; To view her children climb their grandsire's knee, To see her husband love, and love like me! Then, gracious heaven, decree old CLIFFORD's end, Let his grey hairs in peace to death descend." The dreams of bliss are vanish'd from his view, The buds of hope are blasted all by you; Thy child, O CLIFFORD! bears a mother's name, A mother's anguish, and a harlot's shame; Even when her darling children climb her knee Feels the full force of guilt and infamy! Wretch, most unhappy! thus condemn'd to know, Even in her dearest bliss, her keenest woe; Curst be this form, accurst these fatal charms That buried virtue in seduction's arms; Or rather curst that sad, that fatal hour, When HENRY first beheld and felt their power; When my too-partial brother's doating tongue On each perfection of a sister hung; Told of the graceful form, the rose-red cheek, The ruby lip, the eye that knew to speak, The golden locks, that shadowing half the face Display'd their charms, and gave and hid a grace: 'Twas at that hour when night's englooming sway Steals on the fiercer glories of the day; Sad all around, as silence stills the whole, And pensive fancy melts the softening soul; These hands upon the pictur'd arras wove The mournful tale of EDWY's hapless love; When the fierce priest, inflam'd with savage pride, From the young monarch tore his blushing bride: Loud rung the horn, I heard the coursers' feet, My brothers came, o'erjoy'd I ran to meet; But when my sovereign met my wandering eye, I blush'd, and gaz'd, and fear'd, yet knew not why; O'er all his form with wistful glance I ran, Nor knew the monarch, 'till I lov'd the man: Pleas'd with attention, overjoy'd I saw Each look obey'd, and every word a law; Too soon I felt the secret flame advance, Drank deep the poison of the mutual glance; And still I ply'd my pleasing task, nor knew In shadowing EDWY I had pourtray'd you.