LATE was the hour; and hush’d each sound,
When Egbert sought his downy bed;
Tho’ silence reign’d, yet balmy sleep
Had from his weary eyelids fled:
For long upon his noble heart,
Had sorrow prey’d without controul;
Which drove away the soother hope,
And from his eyes their lustre stole.
Rage, grief, and ever-pining care,
Were inmates of his tortur’d breast;
And now, tho’ past the midnight hour,
Resisted was every thought of rest.
In highest rank was Egbert born,
Fortune on him had fondly smil’d;
And Nature, in her fairest mould,
Had form’d him for her favorite child.
It chanc’d that on a summer’s day,
He wander’d near a mountain’s side;
Near whose broad base impetuous ran,
A foaming river, deep and wide.
Whilst pond’ring on its rapid course,
And on its bright translucent wave;
Which, rushing on with headlong force,
Forbids (tho’ sultry warm) to lave.
Sudden–a horse’s swiftest steps,
And female screams, alarm his ear;
And soon he saw a bounding steed,
Whose back a beauteous maid did bear.
The beast advanc’d in wild affright,
And rearing with a dang’rous spring;
Was disengag’d from his light load,
And to the ground her form did fling,
Young Egbert flew as quick as thought,
And seiz’d the horse’s flowing rein:
In happy time to save the maid,
Whose fainting form his arms sustain.
A rustic timorous nymph was she,
Who now requir’d his tender care;
No splendid robes the maid adorn,
Yet ne’er beheld he one so fair.
Soft love (now first) his breast assails,
He view’d her charms in sweet surprize;
Anxious he watch’d returning life,
And joyful saw her raise her eyes.
From that fond hour he Mary woo’d,
Tho’ humble was her rank in life:
And, guided by strict honor’s rules,
He soon call’d lovely Mary wife.
But bad her heart, altho’ so fair,
No sense of gratitude had she;
And ill did her illiterate mind
With Egbert’s elegance agree.
And Mary, heedless of his worth,
As undeserving of his care;
Favor’d a lover’s guilty suit,
And to encourage it did dare.
Too late he mourn’d his hasty choice,
Where beauty only sent the dart;
For where’s the charms which can supply
The noble virtues of the heart.
Now jealousy, with baleful sting,
Fix’d its fell venom in his breast;
And in reflections on his fate,
Was banish’d every hope of rest.
For he would not with pointed steel,
Draw on himself a murd’rer’s name;
But prudent, calm, and ever just,
He left her to an endless shame.
Confiding love and peace now fled,
Of these can he no more partake;
Depriv’d of all his fondest hopes,
His noble heart will shortly break.
Nor long shall be the wicked reign
Of Egbert’s false, ungrateful wife;
Sorrow, repentance, toil, and pain,
Shall terminate her wretched life.
(Caroline Maxwell)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Life Poems, Mind Poems, Sadness Poems, Nature Poems, Youth Poems, Fairness Poems, Name Poems, Hope Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Pain PoemsBased on Keywords: resisted, soother, requir, advanc, inmates, illiterate, chanc, terminate, undeserving, disengag, ever-pining