In my sojourn for two days and nights in the woods of Coolmountain, I received attentions for which it would be shameful not to express my gratitude. Although the crisis of my fate was so near at hand, I felt some hours of unalloyed pleasure in its shade. I had leisure to peruse my letters from home, so full of courage, hope and love; and to consider well the different proposals and means of escape, suggested by others and contemplated by myself. The weather had cleared up and there was a succession of brilliant harvest days. I employed my evenings in composing the following two pieces; and after nightfall I was visited by some friends, with whom I sipped delicious champagne, till a late hour, 'neath the calm watchfulness of a brilliant harvest moon. EIBLIN A RUIN I sang thee other lays, Eiblin a ruin, But these were happy days, Eiblin a ruin, When mount and vale and grove, Where we were wont to rove, Were beautified by love, Eiblin a ruin. I said I loved thee well, Eiblin a ruin. Too fondly far to tell, Eiblin a ruin. I loved thee as the day, Serener for the ray, Thy smile shed o'er my way, Eiblin a ruin. But day has turned to night, Eiblin a ruin. With clouds and gloom and blight, Eiblin a ruin, Yet here an outlaw lone, My heart else, like a stone, Is more and more thy own, Eiblin a ruin. When in some rocky glen, Eiblin a ruin. I share the wild dog's den, Eiblin a ruin, Oppressed with woe and care, As sleep comes o'er me there, Methinks I hear thy prayer, Eiblin a ruin. Throughout that troubled rest, Eiblin a ruin Thy image fills my breast, Eiblin a ruin, And ere the vision's fled, My cold and flinty bed Seems down unto my head, Eiblin a ruin. As night's dark shadow flies, Eiblin a ruin, Along the opening skies, Eiblin a ruin, In the soft purpling ray, That heralds early day, I see thy fond smile play, Eiblin a ruin. When, dangers thick'ning fast, Eiblin a ruin, My fate seemed sealed at last, Eiblin a ruin. A low voice ever near, Still whispers in mine ear-- "For her sake do not fear"-- Eiblin a ruin, And oh, 'tis that lone hope, Eiblin a ruin, That nerves this heart to cope, Eiblin a ruin. With peril and with pain, And surging of the brain, More boisterous than the main, Eiblin a ruin. TO MY WIFE