While Albion on her parent deep
Shall rest, may glory light her shore,
May honour there his vigils keep
Till time shall wing its course no more;
Till angels wrap the spheres in fire,
Till earth and yon fair orbs expire,
While chaos mounted on the wasting flame,
Shall spread eternal shade o'er nature's frame.
EDWIN AND ELTRUDA,
A LEGENDARY TALE.
Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones
Do use to chant it. It is silly, sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age.
SHAKSPEARE'S TWELFTH NIGHT.
EDWIN AND ELTRUDA
A LEGENDARY TALE.
Where the pure Derwent's waters glide
Along their mossy bed,
Close by the river's verdant side,
A castle rear'd its head.
The ancient pile by time is raz'd,
Where Gothic trophies frown'd;
Where once the gilded armour blaz'd,
And banners wav'd around.
There liv'd a chief, well known to fame,
A bold advent'rous knight;
Renown'd for victory; his name
In glory's annals bright.
What time in martial pomp he led
His gallant, chosen train;
The foe, who oft had conquer'd, fled,
Indignant fled, the plain.