II.
But o’er the monarch’s child, in vain,
Sleep sought to hold her wonted reign.
With active thought she ponder’d o’er
The plumed chieftain’s evening lore,
Till half it seem’d before her view
Appear’d the strange unearthly crew;
And that wild tale on her had wrought such power,
That she with sleepless eye had pass’d the midnight hour.
Forth in her airy summer dress,
With footsteps light and echoless,
All-unperceived she left the cell,
By servant, sire, or sentinel.
In such divine apparel seem’d
That lovely night, you would have deem’d
It had its bridal vesture on
To wait and wed the coming dawn.
Its moonlight robe flow’d rich and free,
Thick set with star-embroidery,
And round the earth and o’er the sky
Hung like a garb of Deity.
The pageant of that glorious night
Might well be gazed on with delight,
But still the loveliest object there
Was that lone maiden, young and fair,
Gliding abroad at such an hour,
By forest tree and summer bower.
On the distant groves of Paspahey
Her eye was brightly turn’d,
And to be where that land in dimness lay
Her bosom as warmly burn’d.
What though the way was lonely and far?
The dread of the stilly night,
Nor dark morass, had power to bar
That maiden’s romantic flight;
And when from the east the azure tide
Of day came over the wild,
There stood alone by the river side
The monarch’s artless child.
And she was gazing in wild surprise
On a barque majestic and proud,
Whose masts appear’d, to her wondering eyes,
High towering up to the vaulty skies,
And as deep in the waters bow’d.