Nay, God forbid!--You recollect I mention'd A habit which disquietude and grief Had brought upon him; and we all conjectured That, as the day was warm, he had lain down Upon the grass, and waiting for his comrades, He there had fallen asleep; that in his sleep He to the margin of the precipice Had walk'd, and from the summit had fallen headlong. And so, no doubt, he perished: at the time, We guess, that in his hands he must have held His shepherd's staff: for midway in the cliff It had been caught; and there for many years It hung, and moulder'd there. The priest here ended-- The stranger would have thank'd him, but he felt A gushing from his heart, that took away The power of speech. Both left the spot in silence; And Leonard, when they reach'd the churchyard gate, As the priest lifted up the latch, turned round, And, looking at the grave, he said, "My Brother!" The vicar did not hear the words: and now, Pointing towards the cottage, he entreated That Leonard would partake his homely fare; The other thank'd him with a fervent voice, But added, that, the evening being calm, He would pursue his journey. So they parted. It was not long ere Leonard reach'd a grove That overhung the road: he there stopp'd short, And, sitting down beneath the trees, review'd All that the priest had said: his early years Were with him in his heart: his cherish'd hopes, And thoughts which had been his an hour before, All press'd on him with such a weight, that now This vale, where he had been so happy, seem'd A place in which he could not bear to live: So he relinquish'd all his purposes. He travell'd on to Egremont: and thence, That night, he wrote a letter to the priest, Reminding him of what had pass'd between them; And adding, with a hope to be forgiven, That it was from the weakness of his heart He had not dared to tell him who he was. This done, he went on shipboard, and is now A seaman, a grey-headed mariner. [2] This actually took place on Kidstow Pike, at the head of Hawes Water. [3] The Great Gavel, so called, I imagine, from its resemblance to the gable end of a house, is one of the highest of the Cumberland mountains. It stands at the head of the several vales of Ennerdale, Wastdale, and Borrowdale. The Leeza is a river which flows into the lake of Ennerdale; on issuing from the lake it changes its name, and is called the End, Eyne, or Enna. It falls into the sea a little below Egremont. EMMA; OR, THE MURDERED MAID. A TRAGEDY OF THE LAKE DISTRICT.