CUMNOR HALL.

"No more thon com'st with lover's speed, Thy once-beloved bride to see;

But be she 'live or be she dead,

I fear, stern Earl, 's the same to thee.

Not so the usage I received,

When happy in my father's hall;
No faithless husband then me grieved,
No chilling fears did me appal.

I rose up with the cheerful morn,

No lark more blythe, no flower more gay;

And like the bird that haunts the thorn,

So merrily sung the livelong day.

"If that my beauty is but small,

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Amongst court-ladies all despisedWhy didst thou rend it from that hall,

Where, scornful Earl, it well was prized?

'And when you first to me made suit,
How fair I was, you oft would say ;
And, proud of conquest, pluck'd the fruit,
Then left the blossom to decay.

"Yes, now neglected and despised,
The rose is pale, the lily 's dead;
But he that once their charms so prized
Is, sure, the cause those charms are fled.

"For know, when sick'ning grief doth prey, And tender love's repaid with scorn,

The sweetest beauty will decay

What floweret can endure the storm?

CUMNOR HALL.

"At court, I'm told, is beauty's throne,
Where every lady's passing rare,-
That eastern flowers, that shame the sun,
Are not so glowing, not so fair:

"Then, Earl, why didst thou leave the beds Where roses and where lilies vie,

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To seek a primrose, whose pale shades Must sicken when those gaudes are by?

"Mong rural beauties I was one;

Among the fields wild-flowers are fair: Some country-swain might me have won, And thought my beauty passing rare.

But, Leicester- or I much am wrong,
Or 'tis not beauty lures thy vows;
Rather ambition's gilded crown

Makes thee forget thy humble spouse.

"Then, Leicester, why, again, I plead,

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(The injured surely may repine),

Why didst thou wed a country maid,

When some fair princess might be thine?

Why didst thou praise my humble charms, And, oh! then leave them to decay?

Why didst thou win me to thy arms,

Then leave me mourn the livelong day?

"The village-maidens of the plain

Salute me lowly as I go;

Envious they mark my silken train,

Nor think a Countess can have woe.

"The simple nymphs! they little know How far more happy's their estate: To smile for joy, than sigh for woe; To be content, than to be great.

CUMNOR HALL.

"How far less blest am I than them,
Daily to pine and waste with care!
Like the poor plant that, from its stem
Divided, feels the chilling air.

"Nor, cruel Earl, can I enjoy

The humble charms of solitude; Your minions proud my peace destroy, By sullen frowns or prating rude.

Last night, as sad I chanced to stray,

The village death-bell smote my ear: They wink'd aside, and seem'd to say, 'Countess, prepare: thy end is near!'

"And now, while happy peasants sleep,
Here I sit lonely and forlorn;
No one to soothe me as I weep,

Save Philomel on yonder thorn.

"My spirits flag, my hopes decay

Still that dread death-bell smites my ear

And many a boding seems to say,

Countess, prepare: thy end is near!'"

Thus, sore and sad, that lady grieved
In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear,
And many a heartfelt sigh she heaved,
And let fall many a bitter tear.

And ere the dawn of day appear'd

In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear,
Full many a piercing scream was heard,
And many a cry of mortal fear.

CUMNOR HALL.

The death-bell thrice was heard to ring;
An aerial voice was heard to call;
And thrice the raven flapp'd his wing
Around the towers of Cumnor Hall:

The mastiff howl'd at village door;

The oaks were shatter'd on the green: Woe was the hour,-for never more

That hapless Countess e'er was seen!

And in that manor now no more

Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball; For ever since that dreary hour

Have spirits haunted Cumnor Hall!

The village-maids, with fearful glance,
Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall,
Nor ever lead the merry dance

Among the groves of Cumnor Hall.

Full many a traveller oft hath sigh'd, And pensive wept the Countess' fall, As, wand'ring onwards, he has spied

The haunted towers of Cumnor Hall.