The tempest crackles on the leads,

And, ringing, spins from brand and mail ; But o'er the dark a glory spreads,

And gilds the driving hail,
I leave the plain, I climb the height :

No branchy thicket shelter yields ;
But blessed forms in whistling storms

Fly o’er waste fens and windy fields.

A maiden knight-to me is given

Such hope, I know not fear ;
I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven

That often meet me here.
I muse on joy that will not cease,

Pure spaces clothed in living beams,
Pure lilies of eternal peace,

Whose odours haunt my dreams ;
And, stricken by an angel's hand,

This mortal armour that I wear,
This weight and size, this heart and eyes,

Are touch'd, are turn’d to finest air.

VOL. II.

VII

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The clouds are broken in the sky,

And thro' the mountain-walls A rolling organ-harmony

Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod,

Wings flutter, voices hover clear : “O just and faithful knight of God!

Ride on the prize is near."
So pass I hostel, hall, and grange ;

By bridge and ford, by park and pale, All-arm'd I ride, whate'er betide,

Until I find the holy Grail.

EDWARD GRAY.

Sweet Emma Moreland of yonder town

Met me walking on yonder way, “ And have you lost your heart ?" she said ;

“ And are you married yet, Edward Gray ?"

Sweet Emma Moreland spoke to me :

Bitterly weeping I turn'd away : “Sweet Emma Moreland, love no more

Can touch the heart of Edward Gray.

“ Ellen Adair she loved me well,

Against her father's and mother's will · To-day I sat for an hour and wept,

By Ellen's grave, on the windy hill.

“Shy she was, and I thought her cold ;

Thought her proud, and fled over the sea : Filld I was with folly and spite,

When Ellen Adair was dying for me.

“ Cruel, cruel the words I said !

Cruelly came they back to-day: • You're too slight and fickle,' I said,

* To trouble the heart of Edward Gray.'

“ There I put my face in the grass

Whisper'd, “ Listen to my despair : I repent me of all I did :

Speak a little, Ellen Adair !'

“ Then I took a pencil, and wrote

On the mossy stone, as I lay, · Here lies the body of Ellen Adair ;

And here the heart of Edward Gray !

“ Love may come, and love may go,

And fly, like a bird, from tree to tree : But I will love no more, no more,

Till Ellen Adair come back to me.

“ Bitterly wept I over the stone :

Bitterly weeping I turn’d away : There lies the body of Ellen Adair !

And there the heart of Edward Gray!”