With glowing crimson the pavilion shone, The crown imperial glitter'd in mine eye, The chief unbonnetted and drew me nigh, Wrapp'd in a deepen'd gloom his face appear'd, Like the dark low'rings of the cloudy sky, Ere the big-bursting tempest's voice is heard. Revenge, impatience, all that mads the soul, All that despair and frenzy's flame inspires, Shown by the tapers, in his eyes did roll, Hot meteors they amid the lesser fires. Through each dark line I could not truly scan; Yet through the veil of his distemper'd mien Broke forth a likeness of that lofty man, Whom, whilom, at the palace I had seen. To quell his feelings huge he sternly tried, Strong combat holding with his fighting soul, Cresting himself with more than earthly pride, As though from pow'r supreme he scorn'd control. At length (in part subdu'd his troubled breast) 'Wonder no more why thou art hither brought, < Thy father I, who fold thee in my arms, 'Rise from the ground, and dry thy flowing tears, Far other thoughts must now possess the mind. 'To-morrow, boy, I combat for my crown, 'He leads yon shallow renegado band, 'Yet since assurance is not giv'n to man, Nor can ev'n kings command th' event of war, Since peevish chance can foil the subtlest plan Of human skill, and hurl our schemes in air, To morrow's sun beholds me conqueror, Richard the Third, 'But thou, my son, heed and obey my word; 'North of our camp there stands a rising mound (Thy guide awaits to lead thee on the way), Thence shalt thou rule the prospect wide around, And view each chance, each movement of the fray. 'If righteous fate to me the conquest yield, Then shall thy noble birth to all be known; Then boldly seek the centre of the field, And midst my laurell'd bands my son I'll own: 'But if blind chance, that seld' determines right, Rob me at once of empire and renown, Be sure thy father's eyes are clos'd in night, Life were disgrace when chance had reft my crown. 'No means are left thee then, but instant flight, In dark concealment must thou veil thy head; On Richard's friends their fellest rage and spite His foes will wreak, and fear ev'n Richard dead. 'Begone, my son! this one embrace! away! Some short reflections claims this awful night: Ere from the east peep forth the glimm'ring day My knights attend to arm me for the fight.' Once more I knelt, he clasp'd my lifted hands, Bless'd me, and seem'd to check a struggling tear; Then led me forth to follow his commands, [fear. O'erwhelm'd with tenderest grief, suspense, and What need of more? who knows not the event Of that dread day, that desp'rate-foughten field, Where, with his wondrous deeds and prowess spent, By numbers overpower'd, my sire was kill'd? A son no more, what course was left to tread, My orphan footsteps did I pensive bend. O'er-ruling fate against my wishes wrought; With flowing eyes I left the sacred door, And with relying heart to Heav'n did bend; To God my supplication did I pour, To God, the mourner's best and surest friend: That he would guide me to some safe retreat, Where daily toil my daily bread might earn, Where pious peace might sooth ambition's heat, And my taught heart sublimer ardour learn. He heard me-All I ask'd, in thee was lent, The work is done, the structure is complete— Round the dear walls, Benevolence and Moyle! Hull. PRINCE EDWARD AND ADAM GORDON To Adam Gordon's gloomy haunt Prince Edward boldly wound his way 'And could I but find that bold outlaw, For he hath harrow'd merry Hampshire, And many a spoil possess'd; A bolder outlaw than this wight Ne'er trod by East and West. ''And now come on, my merry men all, For could I but meet that bold outlaw, 'And when we meet in hardy fight, Then spake a knight, 'It may be long For he doth dwell in a dreary haunt, Among the wolds and deep morass And never that wand'ring-wight went in, |