I cannot follow him in the splendour of his literary career, nor even mention so much as the titles of his various works. Suffice it to say he became one of the greatest poets of the age; and one of the chief motives that influenced him in his exertions for renown was to render himself worthy to possess such a treasure as Marina. She in whatever he was employed was never out of his thoughts, and none had he as yet beheld among all the ladies of the Glass Town,—though rich, titled, and handsome strove by innumerable arts to gain his favour,—whom he could even compare with her. CHAPTER V LADY ZELVIA ELLRINGTON One evening Albion was invited to the house of Earl Cruachan, where was a large party assembled. Among the guests was one lady apparently about twenty-five or twenty-six years of age. In figure she was very tall, and both it and her face were of a perfectly Roman cast. Her features were regularly and finely formed, her full and brilliant eyes jetty black, as were the luxuriant tresses of her richly-curled hair. Her dark glowing complexion was set off by a robe of crimson velvet trimmed with ermine, and a nodding plume of black ostrich feathers added to the imposing dignity of her appearance. Albion, notwithstanding her unusual comeliness, hardly noticed her till Earl Cruachan rose and introduced her to him as the Lady Zelvia Ellrington. She was the most learned and noted woman in Glass Town, and he was pleased with this opportunity of seeing her. For some time she entertained him with a discourse of the most lively eloquence, and indeed Madame de Staël herself could not have gone beyond Lady Zelvia in the conversational talent; and on this occasion she exerted herself to the utmost, as she was in the presence of so distinguished a man, and one whom she seemed ambitious to please. At length one of the guests asked her to favour the company with a song and tune on the grand piano. At first she refused, but on Albion seconding the request rose, and taking from the drawing-room table a small volume of poems opened it at one by the Marquis of Tagus. She then set it to a fine air and sang as follows, while she skilfully accompanied her voice upon the instrument:— I think of thee when the moonbeams play On the placid water’s face; For thus thy blue eyes’ lustrous ray Shone with resembling grace. I think of thee when the snowy swan Glides calmly down the stream; Its plumes the breezes scarcely fan, Awed by their radiant gleam. For thus I’ve seen the loud winds hush To pass thy beauty by, With soft caress and playful rush ’Mid thy bright tresses fly. And I have seen the wild birds sail In rings thy head above, While thou hast stood like lily pale Unknowing of their love.