With glowing crimson the pavilion shone,
Reflected by the lofty taper's ray,
The polish'd armour, bright and deft to don,
Beside the royal couch in order lay.

The crown imperial glitter'd in mine eye,
With various gems magnificently grac❜d;
Nigh which, as meant to guard its dignity,
A weighty curtelaxe unsheath'd was plac'd.

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)
On my impatient ear these accents broke,
(I pale and trembling as th' attentive priest,
Who waits the inspirings of his mystic oak!)

'Wonder no more why thou art hither brought,
The secret of thy birth shall now be shown;
With glorious ardour be thy bosom fraught,
For know, thou art imperial Richard's* son.

< Thy father I, who fold thee in my arms,
Thou royal issue of Plantagenet!
Soon as my pow'r hath quell'd these loud alarms
Thou shalt be known, be honour'd, and be great.

'Rise from the ground, and dry thy flowing tears,
To nature's dues be other hours assign'd!
Beset with foes, solicitude, and cares,

Far other thoughts must now possess the mind.

'To-morrow, boy, I combat for my crown,
To shield from soil my dignity and fame :
Presumptuous Richmond seeks to win renown,
And on my ruin raise his upstart name:

'He leads yon shallow renegado band,
Strangers to war and hazardous emprize,
And 'gainst the mighty chieftains of the land,
Vain and unskill'd, a desperate conflict tries.

'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,
Or sees me low among the slaughter'd lie;
Richard shall never grace a victor's car,
But glorious win the field, or glorious die.

Richard the Third,

'But thou, my son, heed and obey my word;
Seek not to mingle in the wild affray :
Far from the winged shaft and gleaming sword,
Patient await the issue of the day.

'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,
To whom apply, or whither should I wend?
Back to my tutor's roof, by instinct led,

My orphan footsteps did I pensive bend.

O'er-ruling fate against my wishes wrought;
That pious man, snatch'd from this frail abode,
Had found the blessing he so long had sought,
The way to immortality and God.

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,
Thou lib'ral proxy of my gracious God!
Thou paid'st my industry with rich content,
And giv'st my weary age this soft abode.

The work is done, the structure is complete—
Long may the produce of my humble toil
Uninjur'd stand! and echo long repeat,

Round the dear walls, Benevolence and Moyle!

Hull.

PRINCE EDWARD AND ADAM GORDON

To Adam Gordon's gloomy haunt
Prince Edward wound his way :
And could I but meet that bold outlaw,
In the wold where he doth lay!'

Prince Edward boldly wound his way
The briars and bogs among:

'And could I but find that bold outlaw,
His life should not be long.

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,
Nor heed the dreary way;

For could I but meet that bold outlaw,
Full soon I would him slay.

'And when we meet in hardy fight,
Let no one come between ;
For Adam o'Gordon's as brave a man
As ever fought on green.'

Then spake a knight, 'It may be long
Ere Gordon you shall find;

For he doth dwell in a dreary haunt,
Remote from humankind.

Among the wolds and deep morass
His lodging he hath ta'en;

And never that wand'ring-wight went in,
That e'er came out again.